#it made me laugh so hard the first time I saw it

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

The Great War

A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!

Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.

Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward

🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.

🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.

🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.

🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.

🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.

🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.

🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.

🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe

🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.

🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.�� like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.

🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.

“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”

🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.

“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”

“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”

“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"

“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“

“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”

“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.

“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”

“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”

“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”

“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”

“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”

“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”

“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”

🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.

🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.

🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.

🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.

“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.

“…What do you want.”

“Still mad at me, babygirl?”

“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”

“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.

“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”

“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”

She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”

“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.

She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.

“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.

“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.

“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”

“-For FUCK’s SAKE”

“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”

Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'd choose you and me...religiously

♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — karasu tabito x fem! reader, fem! reader, childhood friends to lovers, reader is very normal and quiet, goes through 3rd grade to the U-20 vs Blue Lock game, reader doesn't understand soccer, cuddling, kissing, some cussing

♡ synopsis — Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

Tabito Karasu had always been moved by ordinary things. The way rain left trails on windows, the sound of soccer cleats tapping against pavement, the smell of freshly cut grass on the field. Ordinary moments stayed with him long after they’d passed, as if they were somehow more precious than the extraordinary ones.

And then, there was you.

He noticed you before he ever talked to you, always quiet and off to the side, a book or sketchpad in your hands while the other kids played and shouted around you. You weren’t like the rest of them—you weren’t loud, flashy, or attention-seeking. To most, you might have seemed unremarkable.

But to Tabito, you were something special.

He just didn’t realize it until the day he saw you crying.

The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving, casting sharp shadows on the concrete playground. Tabito was sitting on a bench, juggling a soccer ball between his feet, when he noticed the commotion.

A group of kids stood in a semi-circle around you, taunting you about being “too quiet” and “weird.” You didn’t say anything in return, but your teary eyes and the way you hugged your knees gave everything away.

Before he could think twice, Tabito was on his feet, marching over.

“Hey!” he barked, startling the group. He planted himself between you and them, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he glared them down. “Why don’t you piss off and leave her alone?”

The kids hesitated, their bravado faltering under his sharp gaze. Eventually, one muttered something under their breath before they all dispersed.

He turned back to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks...”

He grinned, crouching beside you. “No problem. But you owe me big time. The teacher’s totally gonna yell at me for this one.”

Sure enough, he was called out for his language later, but he didn’t care. By then, the two of you had already cemented an unspoken bond.

From that day on, Tabito Karasu became your first—and only—friend.

By the time junior high rolled around, Tabito had become a name everyone knew. He was a rising soccer star, his talent and charisma drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But no matter how busy his life got, he always made time for you.

You, on the other hand, stayed much the same. You kept to yourself, stayed out of the spotlight, and quietly supported him from the sidelines. Every game he played, you were there, clapping and cheering along with the crowd—even if you didn’t fully understand the rules.

“You seriously don’t get it?” Tabito asked one evening, his breath visible in the crisp autumn air as the two of you walked home.

He had just finished explaining the mechanics of offside for the fifth time.

“I mean... I get that the ball should go in the net,” you said hesitantly. “But everything else is... kind of fuzzy.”

Tabito groaned dramatically, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not that hard! Okay, think of it like chess—”

“Tabito, I don’t know how to play chess.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You’re kidding me. You’ve been watching my games for years, and you don’t even know what’s happening?”

“I know you’re good,” you offered, laughing. “That’s all that matters, right?”

He sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”

By high school, Tabito had become your anchor, and you had become his.

No matter how many people surrounded him or how many girls vied for his attention, he always found his way back to you. He walked you to your classes, saved you a spot at lunch, and invited you over to his house whenever your parents were working late.

One night, after a particularly heavy rainstorm, you ended up staying at his place again. His mom gave you a pillow and blanket for the floor in his room, but when you lay down, the hardwood felt unbearably cold.

“You seriously gonna sleep there?” Tabito asked from his bed, leaning over the edge to look at you.

“Where else would I sleep?”

He rolled his eyes. “Here. Come on.”

“Tabito, your mom said—”

“The floor’s freezing. Just get up here.”

You hesitated, but the warmth in his voice and the ease of his grin convinced you. Moments later, you were lying beside him, your head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“This is too close,” you muttered, though you made no effort to move even though there was plenty of room on his bed.

“Shut up,” he replied, laughing softly.

After a long silence, you spoke again. “Someone asked me what my name was today. We’ve been going to school together since junior high, and they didn’t know my name.”

Tabito’s hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “That’s their loss,” he murmured. “You’re unforgettable.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart beating faster than it should have. “Tabito—”

Before you could ask what he meant, his lips were on yours.

When he pulled back, you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and steady.

“I don’t care what happened. I’d never forget your name.” He kissed you again. “Your face.” Another kiss. “Your goddamn voice.”

You stared at him, your cheeks burning, and he grinned. “You’re mine, okay? Have been for a while.”

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window as Tabito’s mom opened the door. She froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you curled up together in his bed.

“Tabito Karasu!”

Breakfast was... awkward. Over toast and eggs, you and Tabito sheepishly explained your newly minted relationship, only to be rewarded with an impromptu birds-and-the-bees talk.

Tabito groaned, hiding his face in his hands while you tried—and failed—not to laugh.

The letter came during your senior year.

You sat under a tree in the park, the letter in your lap as Tabito leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky.

“This is it,” he said softly. “This is how I make it big.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m proud of you.”

His grin faltered when he looked at you. “You don’t look proud.”

“I am,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “I just... I’ll miss you.”

“Hey,” he said, reaching over to take your hand. “It’s not forever. Just until I make it. Then I’m coming back for you.”

You knew he would, because when Karasu set his mind on something, he would get to it, no matter what it took.

You just wished that he wouldn't have to leave for an uncertain amount of time, but you wouldn't say that. He was still yours, always would be, no matter how long you were apart.

When Tabito left for Blue Lock, he packed light—just the essentials. But tucked carefully at the bottom of his bag was something that wasn’t on any checklist: a collection of your letters.

Some were filled with words of encouragement, like the time you’d written after his first big loss, telling him that failure didn’t define him and that he’d always be a winner in your eyes. Others were playful, teasing him about his ego while reminding him to eat properly and not slack off during training. And then there were the ones you wrote late at night, when the ache of missing him felt too heavy to ignore. Those letters carried lipstick marks on the edges, small imprints of your love pressed onto the paper as if they could somehow close the distance between you.

He read those letters often. Whenever the loneliness crept in or the pressure of Blue Lock’s brutal competition threatened to overwhelm him, he would pull one out, smoothing the creases and letting your words fill the silence. Your voice, even through ink and paper, was his anchor.

One day, during a rare quiet moment in the dorms, Otoya noticed one of the letters poking out of Tabito’s duffel bag. Curiosity piqued, he reached over and grabbed one, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What’s this?”

Tabito, who had been lounging on his bed, immediately sat up. His sharp glare shot across the room like a warning. “Put it down, Otoya.”

But Otoya, ever the instigator, was already opening it. “Aw, come on, don’t be so uptight—” His eyes scanned the first few lines before he froze, his smirk widening. “Oh-ho, what’s this? A girlfriend?”

Tabito was on his feet in an instant, snatching the letter back with a scowl. “None of your business.”

Otoya leaned back, hands raised in mock surrender, but his laughter rang out, echoing in the small dorm room. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Karasu. You’ve got that whole ‘too cool for relationships’ vibe going on, but here you are, all sentimental. Lipstick marks, too? Damn, she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Tabito stuffed the letter into his bag, his jaw tight. He didn’t bother responding to the teasing; it wasn’t worth his energy. Instead, he turned his back to Otoya, muttering under his breath, “Shut up.”

But as Otoya’s laughter died down, Tabito’s fingers brushed the edges of the letter. He could feel the faint ridges of your handwriting beneath the paper, the weight of your love in every stroke of the pen.

A small smile tugged at his lips, one he didn’t let Otoya see.

Because Otoya was wrong about one thing: you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger. No, it was deeper than that. You were his lifeline, his reminder of everything waiting for him back home.

The teasing didn’t matter. The competition didn’t matter. What mattered was the thought of you—always cheering him on, always believing in him.

One day, he promised himself. One day, he’d read those letters with you sitting beside him, not miles apart. And when that day came, he’d show you just how much your words, your love, had carried him through.

For now, though, he folded the letter and placed it carefully back in his bag, ready to fight his way to that future.

Watching the Blue Lock team play against the U-20 team almost put you into an early grave, you swear, Blue Lock won, of course. ( You totally weren't praying on some of the U-20 team's downfall during the game...not at all)

The crowd’s roar was deafening, a wave of cheers and chants reverberating through the stadium. You stood on the sidelines, heart pounding as the Blue Lock team celebrated their hard-fought victory on the field.

You had come all this way to watch him, to see for yourself just how much he’d grown. And yet, even after all these years of supporting him, nothing had prepared you for this moment.

Your eyes darted across the players, searching, until—suddenly—you felt arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your feet left the ground as you were spun around, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

“Tabito!” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling out of you.

When he finally set you back down, you turned to see his grinning face, his hair damp with sweat and a few stray blades of grass stuck to his jersey. He looked different—stronger, sharper, more determined—but when his eyes met yours, the warmth in them hadn’t changed one bit.

“You did it!” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. “You actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, his tone cocky, but his grin softened when his hand came up to cup yours. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as pride swelled in your chest. But before you could say anything else, the words you’d been holding back for years tumbled out:

“Tabito, I finally got it today!”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Got what?”

“Soccer!” you blurted, your voice trembling with excitement. “I mean, okay, maybe not all of it, but at the kickoff, I just... I got it! I understood why you love it so much. I felt it. When the game started, I was so excited I almost screamed! And when you got close to the goal, I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted you to score so badly.”

His eyes widened in surprise before his expression melted into something softer, something that made your heart ache in the best way. “You... really mean that?”

“Yes!” you said, gripping the front of his jersey like you’d never let him go. “I finally understood why you’ve worked so hard, why this means so much to you. It’s amazing, Tabito. You’re amazing.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t find the words. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he pulled you into another spin, your laughter echoing above the noise of the crowd.

When he set you down again, he didn’t hesitate—his lips found yours, and the world fell away.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re the one who’s amazing,” he whispered. “And you know what? That was the only goal I needed today—hearing you say that.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped away a stray tear. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.

He glanced around, the chaos of victory still unfolding behind him, but all his focus was on you. “Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Will you follow me? No matter where this takes me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Anywhere. Always.”

His grin returned, wider than ever, and he kissed you again, as if sealing a promise. And as the stadium lights bathed you both in a golden glow, you knew you’d never stop cheering for him—on the field or off.

Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

i take him to my pent house and i FREAK IT

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

[hgfictionwriter]

First Impressions: Part two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Okay, so maybe Jessie isn't as shallow or one-dimensional as you thought. You decided to give her a chance, but first impressions and long-standing reputations can be hard to simply forget about. Can you let your insecurities go and can she prove that she's serious about you?

Warnings: Smut. Edging. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Language.

A/N: Part two! The rehabilitation of Player Jessie lol. It's a bit long, but there is smut, I swear.

“Hey Beautiful. How’s your day going?”

You glanced up from your phone and bit back a smile. You idly glanced around the library, clearing your throat before resettling on your phone and typing out a reply.

“Texting me when you’re on the road? You must be bored.”

“Day’s going well. Just at the library right now.”

“What? Without me?! I feel betrayed jk”

“I’m not bored. Just missing my study buddy turned…girlfriend?”

Your posture straightened and your eyes narrowed as you read her message.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

"Yeah?"

"Lol why the question mark! You're either asking me out or you're not."

"I am."

"Wow."

"What?! What was wrong with that? Lol. I thought it was smooth."

"Your inexperience is showing, Fleming."

“Well that’s a first.”

You rolled your eyes. When you glanced back down you saw she was typing.

“You said you didn’t want casual. And we've had some great dates. And I don't want to seem too over-confident, but I think I've coaxed you along from tolerating me to perhaps even enjoying my company. Periodically lol. So, I’m just following through.”

You bit your lip and your cheeks ached from holding back a full blown smile. Your head buzzed as you reread her message.

If there was a theme in your dynamic, it was that you had to give a hard time. Even in this situation.

"Enjoying your company? Let's not get carried away, now. I mean, just because we text all day, have hot make-out sessions, say sweet, romantic things to each other and it took us an hour and a half to say 'goodnight' yesterday, doesn't mean anything. So presumptuous of you."

"Ugh. You're right. I've misread the signs. My bad."

"But seriously - you haven't answered. And I'm actually getting nervous. Come on, Y/L/N. You'll either be my girlfriend or you won't 😛"

You smirked. You appreciated how easily you two bantered and this was no exception.

A few weeks had passed since that night in the hallway. Things escalated quickly, honestly. Suddenly there was this emotional intimacy that was rapidly evolving between you two and it just felt so natural. And Jessie, despite everything you would've originally expected, had been sweet, authentic, and steady.

The opportunity to step away and stop yourself from catching feelings was long over. Dangerous territory? You were in the thick of it. If you were going to turn back, now was the time.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

"That just 1000% made my day. My week. Month. More!"

You rubbed your face in elated disbelief and typed out a reply.

"Well. If you keep it up, my feelings for you might progress from tolerating, to enjoying to...who knows."

"Shit. I honest to God want to turn around and come back. And I never want to miss camps."

"I seriously miss you."

Giddy. You felt fucking giddy and you couldn't believe it.

"I miss you too. Which is fucking crazy since I saw you less than 24 hours ago."

"Tell me about it lol."

"I'll be here when you get back."

“Better be lol. And until then. Don’t let some other nerdy athlete charm you.”

You audibly laughed, cutting it short as it sounded through the quiet space.

“Yeah. And you keep your little fan club at bay while you’re away, okay?”

“Easy. I’ll text you after we're done for the day, okay? Happy studying!”

You couldn’t believe what was going on. It was so unexpected that you still had to remind yourself of the events that took place to get here. It was the only way to reconcile the fact that you were sitting here texting with Jessie Fleming. Flirting with Jessie Fleming. Dating Jessie Fleming. Someone who was Bad News; the type to break your heart and leave you longing.

Yet, someone who you - maybe - had all wrong.

Someone you, in fact, very much, were swooning over.

-------

You were reading the slide on screen and listening to the professor when suddenly Jessie nudged you with her elbow.

She had her eyes trained forward but shifted her laptop, angling it towards you. A smirk began to tug at the corner of her mouth and she gave you a brief, cursory glance. You looked down at her screen to see she'd selected some text in her notes.

"You look amazing. Stop distracting me."

You nearly blew a raspberry, managing to suppress it into a vague scoff. You rolled your eyes as you faced forward once more, but felt a blush burning on your cheeks. You glanced back at her to see her smiling widely at you now. She returned her attention to her laptop and typed out a new sentence.

"You know you're beautiful. You don't need to be shy about it."

You shook your head affectionately and typed out a reply before turning your screen slightly towards her. Your posture stiffened as she placed a hand on the edge of your seat to lean in to read.

"You're out of control. And who's distracting who here, huh? lol"

She retracted her hand to start typing and you missed it immediately. When she was done typing you leaned over, placing a hand directly on her thigh as you read the message.

"You are distracting me. You = distracting and gorgeous."

You silently snickered with another shake of your head.

"Omfg. You're ridiculous."

She glanced down at your hand purposefully.

"Especially now."

You gave her a look somewhere between chiding and teasing. She shot you another smirk and typed further.

"Don't get me wrong. I like it."

"Care to go on a little adventure with me after class?"

You weren't going to say 'no'. She knew it. You knew it. And sure enough, after class she led you by the hand to another building across campus until you were in an abandoned stairwell. You assumed you were going to continue on elsewhere, but learned otherwise when she gently pushed you against the wall with a charming smile and a slow kiss.

You giggled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around the back of her shoulders.

"You take me to the nicest places," you teased.

"Both our roommates are in, so privacy is a tough commodity to come by," she replied with a chuckle as she began to kiss her way down your neck. It took every effort not to gasp. "You look gorgeous all the time, but I especially love when you wear your hair up. I couldn't stop staring at your neck - all I could think about was kissing it."

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as her warm breath caressed you, her lips explored and you could feel just the slightest, teasing touch of her tongue on your neck.

While the emotional barriers you'd tried to put up had proven entirely fruitless and ineffective, you'd done a much better job of withholding physical boundaries.

Given your concerns going into this relationship, you'd told yourself that you wanted to very strongly establish an emotional foundation with Jessie before being physically intimate. So even though you would've probably already slept with someone by this point, and Jessie most certainly would've too, you'd never allowed the two of you to go further than a heavy and hot make-out session.

You wanted her to work for it. To earn it. And to your surprise, she didn't seem deterred in the least. She'd been respectful and patient. Well, mostly patient. You knew she was raring to go, but any time you pumped the brakes she backed off.

Your hands were running through her hair and you two were - consciously or not - rocking your hips against one another's as she kissed and lightly sucked on your neck and her hands began to inch under your top. Your core was throbbing with need already.

"What if someone comes by?" You managed to say, eyes falling shut at the sensations she was sending through your body.

"No one ever comes here. Don't worry," she responded easily.

Your eyes fluttered opened, a frown slowly forming across your forehead. The lightness and excitement that had been coursing through your veins a moment before was immediately replaced with a heavy pit in your stomach.

You pulled back, slowly dropping your hands away from her head to her waist and pushing gently. She extended her neck, working to keep her lips in contact with your neck before eventually relenting with a confused look and allowing herself to be pushed back.

"I should probably go," you said, tone admittedly a bit flat as you failed to hold eye contact with her while you smoothed out your clothes.

"Wh-huh?" She asked, blatantly puzzled by your change in demeanor. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head subtly and began to walk away. You were deeply tempted to not reply at all or to just deflect, but instead you replied with, "Look. I'm not going to be just some other girl you fuck in a stairwell between classes, okay?"

You had your back to her and were pushing the door open so you missed whatever physical reaction she had, but her perturbed, "Are you serious right now?" rang loud in your ears.

You continued to walk outside, her footsteps close behind you and you turned around folding your arms against yourself.

"Yeah. I am," you told her almost wearily. You could see the frustration on her face and she laughed in disbelief.

"What," you challenged. "Are you going to tell me you haven't brought other girls here? Made out with them there? Fucked them even?"

Despite her irritation, she averted her gaze, scoffing lightly and eventually offering an exaggerated shrug.

"And if I did?"

You shook your head, turning away slightly with a huff. She gave an empty laugh.

"Would you rather I lie? 'No, baby, you're the only one ever!'" She finished mockingly.

"What the fuck, Jess," you retorted, voice rising slightly as you narrowed your eyes at her. "You don't need to be an asshole about it." Your face felt hot with anger, but suddenly it shifted and you knew if you weren't careful you were going to start crying. "I just don't want to be treated the same as all the others." You scowled, pushing back further emotion, "If what you say is true and things are different with me."

She exhaled heavily, dropping her gaze and stretching out her fingers and opening her palms as a way to calm herself. She took a breath and lifted her head to meet your eyes once more, still speaking tersely, but calmer than you'd been.

"That's why I'm frustrated," she said. "You are very different and I feel very different about you. For you. And I do treat you differently! Do you think I was texting those girls all day? Telling them I miss them. Planning dates. Telling them all my hopes and fears; asking them about theirs? Bringing them to hang out with my friends? And I sure as shit didn't ask them to be my girlfriend."

A wave of guilt rushed over you. Okay, maybe you were still making a sweeping generalization, but you still felt the way you did.

"I'm sorry," you relented slightly, but went on. "I see what you're saying. And I'm trying. But I still can't help it sometimes. I-I don't know. I know you're not who I originally thought you were. But I guess a part of me is still scared. I," you paused, words getting caught in your throat, "I really like you, Jess. And - moments like this make me terrified that I'm just going to get left behind like one of your other girls."

Jessie sighed quietly, dropping her gaze once more as she kicked distractedly at the sidewalk. When she looked back up her eyes were sad, but you could still see the warmth behind them.

"I don't know what to do," she said helplessly. "I can't change the past. I want you to feel confident in us. In me. But I can't undo anything from before. I'm trying to be clear and direct about how important you are to me. I really like you too, and I just wish I knew how to get you to trust me."

You exhaled, your own frustration at your feelings seeping in. "It's not that I don't trust you. I mean, I guess that's hard to believe, but that's really not what's going on," you insisted. "And I understand that you can't change anything from the past. And you shouldn't have to. That's just something I need to get over. It's really just...I don't want to be the same as the other girls."

She watched you quietly as she contemplated. She took a couple of steps towards you, closing the gap and tentatively taking your hands in hers.

"I promise you you're not. And I understand that my reputation has made trust a bit more difficult. But, I really, really need you to know that this - and you - are special to me." She nodded as she continued. "You're right - I probably shouldn't have brought you to the same spot I brought other girls. Especially given," she looked away briefly, "what I'd do with them there. I can see now that was not the wisest. I really wasn't thinking that way - I just wanted to be alone with you and knew we could be there."

You sighed softly and removed your hands from hers to wrap them around her back, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly and kissed the side of your head.

"Thank you. I know you didn't mean anything negative. I just...I got in my head. But, yeah, if you can try to be more mindful of things like that, I'll work on not reacting so impulsively."

"Deal," she chuckled. She pulled back enough for you to see the way she cocked an eyebrow at you playfully. You weren't sure where she was going with this, but you were grateful for the sudden levity and the forgiveness it implied. "And for the record, it's not just all sunshine and rainbows on my end either, you know." She smirked at you and continued.

"Despite my bravado, there's a certain level of insecurity that comes with having the history I do and now meeting this incredible woman and wanting something serious and long-term with her. A no-strings-attached lifestyle is easy breezy - you don't get invested and you don't get hurt. But with you? I don't want to disappoint you. And you can definitely hurt me. I'm not used to that."

You searched her face as she finished speaking and warmth radiated throughout your chest. You kissed her and another wave of affection rushed through you as she squeezed you securely against her.

"I didn't mean to disrespect you at all. I'm really sorry," she said quietly as your kiss ended and she tucked her head against yours.

You pulled back to look at her. Her dark eyes were soft and shimmering and you laid a single kiss on her lips.

"Come with me," you said as you took her by the hand and led her back to the stairwell. You bit back a laugh at the curious smirk on her face as she allowed you to maneuver her against the wall. You smiled as her eyes slowly fell shut as you leaned in to kiss her.

"Guess this means you aren't too mad at me?" She muttered jokingly into the kiss. A crooked grin crossed your lips as you gently grasped her chin and had her meet your gaze.

"You're forgiven," you said with teasing benevolence before arching an eyebrow. "But don't push your luck." She chuckled and shook her head with a smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

You grinned as you engaged her a deep, slow kiss, this time your hands sneaking under her shirt and splaying out across her abs. A spark of satisfaction flared and you had to hold back a fuller smile as you felt her breath hitch and the faintest moan escaped her throat.

"I like you so much," you whispered as you began to trail kisses down her neck, noting the way her fingers dug into your waist.

"I like you a lot too," she said with a breathy laugh. You fought back a grin as you pressed your thigh between hers and ground up into her.

"Oh shit," she said, still breathless, another laugh in awe. You got the impression the tables weren't typically turned on her like this. You continued, your hand now toying with the button on her pants. She let out another soft moan. "Fuck, you're getting me so hot."

You smiled smugly as you nipped at her neck.

"Good," you said simply as you pulled back entirely, breaking off all contact and loving how her hands stretched out to follow you and only falling away as you stepped out of reach.

You saw the tiniest, cutest frown form across her forehead as her eyes fluttered open in confusion.

"Call me later?" You asked sweetly with a flirtatious shrug, already turning on your heel and heading for the door.

"Wait, what?" She called after you, her confusion evident in her voice.

You stepped through the door, but turned back to give her an innocent smile. She stared after you like a lost puppy. "We're even now. Call me later, baby."

She belatedly opened her mouth to speak, but you simply blew her a kiss and let the door fall shut.

And call you she did. In fact, when you woke up the next morning you had a text from her in the middle of the night.

"I can't even sleep because I'm still thinking about the stairwell. Nobody's ever made me feel like this. I feel like I'm drunk on you lol. I know that's stupid. But. I can't stop thinking about you."

-----------

You slung your bag over your shoulder and scrolled through your phone as you began to exit your class. You walked head down into the masses of students until someone brushed against your arm and fell into step with you.

"How was class?"

You frowned, puzzled momentarily until your brain caught up and a smile crossed your face at who it was.

"Well hello," you greeted as you gently pushed your shoulder into her, jostling her.

"Hey baby," she greeted with a winning smile as she held out a coffee for you.

"Now this is service," you teased as you took it.

"Only the best for my girl," she said with a wink.

"Is your class cancelled or something?" You asked, knowing her next class was in an entirely different building across campus.

"No, but my last one got out early. Thought I'd surprise you with a coffee," she said, obviously very pleased with herself.

"You're the sweetest," you said as you leaned over mid-step to kiss her cheek. She smiled.

"Don't tell anyone."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Yeah, everyone thinks you're such a jerk."

"You did," she quipped.

"I didn't think you were a jerk," you responded haughtily. "Just a thoughtless womanizer," you chuckled.

"Oh, well thank you for clarifying," she replied dryly with an eye roll of her own as she laced her fingers with yours. "Well now that you know I'm not a total deviant, want to come out for drinks tonight? Mia's back so we're all getting together."

"Sure," you responded lightly as you gave her hand a squeeze.

"Okay, great," she said before leaning over and kissing your cheek before stepping away, walking backwards towards another hall. "See you tonight." She gave you another wink. "Don't miss me too much until then."

That evening you were in a crowded dorm room, solo cup in hand, the bass of some song underlining conversations throughout the space. Mia stood across from you.

"Glad I got a chance to chat with you more. I knew I had to get to know you better because you have got our girl swooning," she teased with a smirk.

"Oh my gosh, not at all," you dismissed though you averted your gaze and felt a blush coming on. Mia laughed heartily and cocked an eyebrow.

"No, no. I've never seen Jess like this before. She used to make fun of other girls for being all lovesick, but now she's even worse than them. Though don't tell her that," she laughed, "she thinks she's being all nonchalant and cool about it."

Your head buzzed with excitement over Mia's words. The extra validation cemented your growing confidence in how significant this connection really was to Jessie. You couldn't help but direct your gaze away from Mia in search of the girl in question. You caught her eye across the room and flashed a smile with a quick wink. You watched as she excused herself from her conversation and began to weave through the crowd.

"Hey, you good?" She asked quietly as she approached, laying a hand on your arm as she kissed your temple. You gave her a quiet smile, holding her gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good."

You didn't think you held her eye contact that long, but your attention and Jessie's was drawn towards Mia as she laughed. She shook her head in amusement.

"Okay, later lovebirds," she deadpanned as she held up her drink in a 'cheers' and walked away.

"I trust Mia was treating you well?" Jessie asked as her eyes followed Mia momentarily while chuckling.

"Of course," you replied with a cheeky grin. "She took great care of me."

"Hopefully not too great," she teased. Your jaw dropped, scandalized though you laughed.

"You're not serious. You. Jessie Fleming. Get jealous?" You asked, eyes bright with amusement as you felt a fluttering in your stomach.

Jessie made a face and laughed, though you could easily see the way her cheeks grew flush. She eventually shrugged.

"Hey, what can I say? I know my teammates are awesome and you're an incredible girl, you can have your pick."

You rolled your eyes. "You're being silly," you said as you gave her an affectionate smile. She held up her hands with charming smirk.

"Just saying. I'm not taking what we have for granted. You don't have to pick me."

You 'tsked' her, arms folded. "Well. I do," you replied, shoulder back and head held high. "So you can relax."

Jessie leaned in, placing a hand on your waist as she kissed your cheek. Her breath tickled your skin. "Well, consider me beyond pleased."

You held her gaze again. Suddenly, there were too many people around. You were overwhelmed with a need to be close to her. Alone with her.

"How's your night going?" You asked, spurring a curious frown from her.

"Fine? Good?" She answered with a soft laugh. "Yours?"

You shrugged lightly. "Nice." You cocked your head as you glanced away purposefully. "Could be better."

"Oh?" She asked. "How so?

You reached out and smoothed out the shoulder of her shirt before playing with the collar.

"It's just starting to feel a little crowded in here," you said with flippant lament. You sighed quietly, but in exaggeration as she processed your words. She cracked a smile.

"Yeah? Is that so?" She asked, chin tilting up slightly as she studied you. She glanced towards the door. "I mean, we could always go."

"Oh I wouldn't want to force you to leave," you relayed sweetly and she gave you a wicked grin.

"Yeah, you're really forcing my hand here," she said flatly. You looked her up and down with a smirk of your own.

"I can find some other things for your hand to do."

Her eyes grew wide for a moment and her mouth fell open at your brazen comment. She eventually closed her mouth, now giving you a less than subtle once over.

"It's not nice to tease," she warned.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently while locking eyes with her.

She puffed her cheeks out in an exhale, gaze flitting across the room with an appreciative shake of her head that left you holding back a smug smile. She reached out to lace her fingers with yours, her thumb teasing the palm of your hand.

"Well, are you going to let me take you home or what?" She whispered. You raised both eyebrows at her and clicked your tongue.

"I believe you'll be coming home with me," you retorted playfully. "If anyone's going to be burdened with the walk of shame, it's going to be you." You shrugged. "This time anyway."

She laughed, loud enough that it even attracted the attention of couple of people in adjacent conversations. She sniffed with a residual chuckle and nodded. "Sure. I'll shoulder that responsibility."

On the walk to your building she asked if you should stop at her room to grab, any, you know, supplies. You didn't break your pace at all and simply responded with, "No. I want you now."

She grinned like a Cheshire cat, placing a hand on the small of your back and increased her strides, pulling you along too. "Well then let's not waste any more time."

You'd texted your roommate on the way back and was grateful to see she'd vacated the premises by the time you stepped inside. You'd given her space many times, so it was her turn to return the favour.

You'd barely closed the door when a lighthearted yelp escaped your throat as Jessie spun you around and lifted you off the ground, pressing your back against the door. Her lips immediately latched onto your neck as your arms and legs wrapped around her.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've wanted you," she breathed into your neck as she nipped and sucked at the skin there harder than she'd ever done before and it immediately had your core pulsing.

Something between a gasp and a moan left your mouth as you ran one hand through her hair, pressing her mouth further against your neck and she moaned into you while digging her fingers harder into the underside of your thighs.

Both of you were too hungry to take your time, so it wasn't long before she carried you to the bed, lips still locked as she laid you down.

Your hands were under her shirt and she chuckled as she sat up and took it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

"Now you," she said with a lustful grin as her hands wandered below your shirt and pushed it upwards. You arched your back off the bed and she reached around to help support you while she peeled your shirt off with her other hand. She was still discarding the garment when she leaned down to begin laying teasing kisses down your chest to your bra. Her hand was on the clasp of your bra and you chuckled as she unclasped it with ease, drawing the straps down off of your shoulders with her teeth.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," she said in awe as she sat back again to take in your half-naked image in the dim of the room.

A small cry left your lips as she dipped her head back down and drew one of your nipples into her mouth, her teeth grazing as she released it before latching on again and swirling her tongue around the hardened nipple. You set both hands on the back of her head, fingers partially digging into her scalp in appreciation as she attentively explored you.

She switched nipples and her hand caressed up the outside of your thigh and grabbed your ass through your jeans, kneading firmly and hungrily as she moaned into your breast.

You grasped her other hand and guided it between your bodies, your own hand undoing the button of your jeans.

“You’re sure?” She asked, pausing despite your invitation. You rolled your hips up into her waiting hand and continued to guide her.

She took over, unzipping and pushing her hand down towards your core. Her fingers pressed firmly across your folds through the fabric of your underwear. Your jaw fell as her fingers indirectly grazed your clit.

She moaned. "I can already feel how wet you are," she said in wonder and her tone assured you she was more than pleased by this.

She pushed your panties aside, her fingers caressing through your slick folds for the first time and you immediately groaned in pleasure and rolled your hips up into her eager hand.

"You feel so fucking amazing already," she said, head lolling to the side momentarily before she began kissing her way down your torso. You tried not to whine as she removed her hand long enough to remove your jeans.

"You're going to get sick of me telling you how gorgeous you are," she said as she nipped at your underwear, tugging them down teasingly with her teeth. She hooked her fingers into the band but you stopped her temporarily.

"I want your clothes off, too," you told her in a way that left no room for debate. She snickered before pushing herself up off of you and shimmying off her clothes.

"Anything for you," she joked as she returned her attention to you, her lips laying fleeting kisses along the crease between your thighs and core. You heard her chuckle as your legs grew restless, rubbing against the sheets. She reached up and rubbed teasing circles around your nub through your panties.

"Please," you said simply.

"Please what?" She asked innocently and you could hear the smile in her voice before her tongue made contact with your skin, eliciting a gasp out of you.

You writhed beneath her. Even though this was brand new territory for you two, you felt safe expressing yourself.

"I need you," you answered, trusting that it would be well received and not feeling embarrassed or self-conscious in your saying so.

You heard a satisfied grunt from her and you drew your legs back eager to help her remove your panties. You bit your lower lip at the tender kiss she planted on your hip bone.

She began to kiss her way down your mound and although you really just wanted her to fuck you, to feel her fingers inside of you, you figured you'd waited this long, might as well let her set the pace.

Her lips brushed along your folds as she settled herself between your legs and that was enough to send a pulse through your core, but you absolutely throbbed as her fingers dug into the tops of your thighs and she pulled herself closer with an eager moan.

You were honestly contemplating begging her to not tease you any longer when her tongue began to trail up and down between your folds, your back bucking off the bed at the sudden sensations coursing through you.

You heard a muffled laugh from between your legs but before you could protest she began lapping up juices that were surely dripping from your core. Despite your intentions your back arched once more and you gripped the sheets tightly in her hands.

"Don't worry, baby," she said, "I'll take good care of you."

You fleetingly considered scolding her for her bravado, but she flicked her tongue upwards and over your clit before latching onto it with her mouth and sucking in a rhythm that urged your hips to roll up into her face further.

You could feel her smiling into you and she was entirely undeterred by your bucking and moving, confidently and easily keeping her mouth centered on you wherever your body took you.

She sucked, licked, and nipped at you in such a skilled way you'd never experienced before. You'd thought you'd had good sex before; evidently you were wrong.

To top it off, the way she moaned and chased you up the bed with a blatant hunger made you feel wanted and desired in a way you'd never felt before either. The way she devoured you, muffled moans sending pleasurable vibrations through your core, head rocking into you and lapping at you as though you were the most delicious thing she'd had made you feel like she'd never wanted anything more.

And when she reached out and laced her fingers of one hand with yours? Your heart melted.

It was blissful in so many ways.

You hadn't even realized she'd removed her other hand from your thigh when you felt her tease your entrance with a finger. A shuddering moan fell from your lips as she gently dipped a digit inside. You threw your head back into the mattress, back arching all over again as she began slipping a second finger inside, stretching you out deliciously as she continued to flick her tongue across your clit.

Her fingers felt just as good inside of you as you'd imagined and before you knew it she was curling her fingers up against your g-spot. You let out a low moan and your hips began rocking against her with greater fervour. She gave your hand a squeeze and you just held on for dear life, clutching her hand as if it was the only anchor holding you here. You reached down with your free hand and gripped her hair, pulling another pleased noise from her.

The pressure building between your core reached a tipping point. You don't even know how many strokes she'd taken - not many at all - when your cries and whimpers got caught in your throat, mouth drawn into a silent 'o' as your hips began to jerk against her as the tension deep inside of you burst. Your sounds eventually caught up with you as several seconds later you finally mustered a cry as you were already well soaking her face.

She stayed with you the whole time, continuing to help you ride out your orgasm and slowing her motions as you gradually came down.

As you fell back into the bed, your limbs and entire body felt so heavy. It's not like you two had been at it for all that long, but you felt so spent. Even as she began to tenderly kiss her way up your body, you couldn't muster up the energy to caress or hold her. You couldn't even open your eyes.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," she whispered into your ear as she settled herself against you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

You still couldn't make a noise or embrace her, you simply let her pull you against her.

"You're incredible. And that was so amazing. I-," she paused. "You're so sexy. All of that is going to be engrained in my mind for a long, long time."

You let your head fall to the side and against hers. She chuckled and kissed your forehead and you became aware of how she was gently thumbing your shoulder as she held you.

"Fuck," you eventually said. You heard her hold back a laugh and you finally opened your eyes to look at her. Her eyes were bright and shimmering as she looked down at you. A lazy, crooked smile crossed your lips as you reached up and pushed her face away playfully. "You are way too pleased with yourself right now," you laughed.

"I'm not!" She protested though she laughed. "I'm just- I'm really happy," she eventually said.

"Yeah?" You chuckled as you pulled her closer and she gladly obliged. You tucked your head under her chin. "Well that makes two of us," you laughed and she kissed the top of your head. You sighed contentedly. "Well now I know what all the fuss is about."

Your eyes opened as you felt her stiffen slightly. She shifted, clearing her throat quietly.

"Hey," was all she said, probably meant to be teasing or warning, but sounding sad instead.

You pulled back to look at her. It was true, the bright, warm smile she'd worn was now faint as she looked back at you. You kissed her softly.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was a funny joke. Not appropriate," you said.

"I just want it to be about us," she said quietly as her gaze fell as she drew small, distracted designs on your collarbone with her finger.

"I know," you agreed in the same tone as you placed a hand on hers and caressed the back of it with your thumb. She kissed your cheek. "Me too. I just - you're good. Extraordinarily good. And, well, the fact fleeting crosses my mind that, you know, how do you get so good? Well, practice makes perfect. So..."

Jessie huffed inaudibly, but you felt the air tickle your skin.

"I know we talked about this," you rushed on. "And I'm not upset. Honestly." You chuckled, hoping to lighten things. "I mean, I'm reaping the benefits here." She cracked a faint smirk, but not exactly what you hoped to see. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay," she relented as she kissed your cheek once more with a soft sigh. "Just as long as you know you're the only one I want."

You nodded, but she must not have been convinced because she carried on.

"Because, if it was anyone else, I would've been down the stairs and out of the building by now. And," she punctuated, "-not that I should say anything- but, I typically don't get undressed. I'm not looking for intimacy or anything like that. But, I want that with you."

You held a hand up to her cheek and ran your thumb softly against her cheekbone.

"And? Do you have that with me?"

She nodded, leaning her head into your palm.

"Yeah. And it's," she trailed off, her gaze falling briefly as she smirked at herself. She looked up at you again. "It's really great."

You held her gaze and inhaled. Your head was swimming with all sorts of thoughts and feelings. A particular set of words sat on the tip of your tongue. She must've noticed.

"What?" She asked with a tender smile. You considered dismissing it, but instead you just gave a gentle shake of your head.

"I'm falling very hard for you, Jessie Fleming."

Her eyes lit up and you watched as she searched yours. In this moment, this woman who was all charm and confidence looked exceedingly vulnerable.

"That's not funny to joke about," she eventually said with a forced smirk and a single, faint laugh.

"Who says I'm joking?" You asked with a soft laugh.

Realization settled in her and she shifted so she was slightly more on top of you.

"Don't joke," she repeated. You held her gaze, laughing quietly again.

"I'm not."

She rolled you fully onto your back again so she was on top of you. Her knee nudged your legs apart and it any other reality you would've been embarrassed at how your core immediately throbbed.

She looked down at you, eyes different than any way you'd seen them before. Darker somehow. But it didn't scare you. It made you want her more.

"You're everything I wanted," she said. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that first day in class." She subtly began to rock against you and your hands began to wander along her back.

"Everybody told me what this was supposed to feel like, but it just never clicked for me before. At all. But," she took a short, stuttered breath as she continued to grind against you and her hand began to travel down your torso. "You have me. You're on my mind all the time. Any time I'm away from you, I'm just reliving past conversations and moment or dreaming up new ones."

She shook her head in mild disbelief. "I've never felt this way," she said as her hand settled between your legs. You were certain there was no way she couldn't feel the heat radiating off of you. And somehow, with every declaration from her you grew wetter and wetter.

"Me neither," you told her. She smiled and ran two fingers through your folds to then tease your entrance - immediately confirming how wet you were - her eyes lit up and her smile turned into a grin.

"You are so gorgeous. And so fucking amazing," she told you in reverie.

Your exhale was unsteady as your center throbbed in want. "Jess," you said; panted even. "I need you."

A sharp gasp escaped you as she slowly sunk two fingers inside of you. Your fingers dug into her skin at how amazing it felt to be filled up by her again. When you opened your eyes once more she was still watching you intently.

"You feel so fucking good," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Mm," she glanced down, slowly drawing her fingers out until they rest at your entrance before pushing in again more swiftly. "So fucking tight."

"Jesus Christ," you said as your hands came to her arms and you clutched them while your head rolled back into the pillow.

"I want you cumming all over my fingers," she told you with quiet assuredness. "Not just tonight. Any and every fucking night you'll let me," she said as she tucked her head down and began to kiss your neck, drawing a shuddering whimper out of you.

"Oh Jess," you moaned as your hips ground into her waiting hand. A shiver ran through you as she breathed against your neck and nipped at you.

"My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth," she praised.

If you had any kind of witty quip, it was immediately extinguished as she began to pump fully and steadily in and out of your hot, wet tunnel. A heady moan worked its way up your throat as she curled her fingers inside of you like earlier, each stroke sending a pulse through you.

You wrapped your legs around her and she began to thrust into you, using her hips to push her fingers deeper and harder into you.

"You look so good underneath me. You're so beautiful," she said as she continued to fuck you and it wasn't long until you could feel your wetness dripping down you and onto the sheets.

You were never overly vocal in bed, especially given the dorm situation and neighbours. But the way her thumb teased your clit and the way her fingers filled you with each stroke, your voice resounded off of the walls of your dorm.

Soon you could feel your core tightening much as it did earlier. You clenched around her fingers as she panted above you. You didn't need to tell her you were close; she fucked you steadily, carrying you over the threshold. Your whole body stiffened, fingers digging sharply into her skin as she groaned in response as you began to convulse around her fingers.

"God, you are so gorgeous cumming in my arms like this," she declared as she continued to pump in and out of you, slowing only when you began to grow slack in her embrace.

"Holy fuck," you eventually panted. She was laying slow, tender kisses along your shoulder as she waited you out.

"Your roommate's not coming back tonight, is she?" She asked.

"No," you said and she cracked a salacious grin.

"Good."

-------

The next morning you awoke. You inadvertently groaned as you shifted. Your body was exhausted. The memories of last night flooded your mind and you glanced over only to see the space next to you unoccupied.

You sat up immediately and your eyes scanned the room for any evidence of Jessie. Her shoes were gone, her clothes. You sat up further as your heart began to thump loudly in your chest and confusion settled over you.

You shook your head with a frown. No. This didn't make sense. Not after everything.

You reached over to grab your phone. As you did, you spied a sticky note on your bedside table.

"I'm a morning person. What can I say! I'm getting us coffee and croissants. I'll be back soon. - J"

The lump in your throat immediately subsided and you released a breath you hadn't known you were holding. You opened your phone to see a text from her as well.

"Just in case you missed the note. I'm getting coffee and croissants. Be back soon, Beautiful."

You laid back on the bed, pulling the sheets up with you and letting out another sigh as your body relaxed once more.

Okay. This made much more sense. It wasn't all a lie.

A short while later you heard the door handle turn and the door was tentatively pushed open a crack. You found yourself smiling immediately as she tip-toed in, her straightening and smiling fully when she saw you were awake.

"Good morning," she greeted as she approached with said coffee and baked goods in hand.

"You're lucky, Fleming," you teased as you rolled onto your side as she set everything down. "I was about to lose it until I saw your note."

Jessie gave you a teasing look as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She spoke, unbothered, "Waking up next to a beautiful woman who I think is amazing? Yeah, I am lucky."

You chuckled as she kissed your forehead. "Well, I didn't get that luxury. Just a cold and lonely bed," you teased.

"I get antsy once I'm up. I didn't want to wake you," she explained. You pulled her in for a kiss.

"Fine. I forgive you."

Jessie smiled, returning your kiss. "Thank you. And, mmm, morning breath."

"Oh my God," you gasped, mortified as you swatted at her, only causing her to laugh. She leaned back in, pushing you down onto the bed with a kiss.

"Hey, I don't mind. I want you, morning breath and all," she chuckled.

"You better," you grumbled good-naturedly as she continued to kiss you. Her hand began to wander and you knew very well what she'd find.

"Mm, and it seems like you want me, too," she grinned. You chuckled, but rolled your hips into her hand.

"Coffee's not the only way to wake me up."

[jov1ii]

Home.

♡⃕.pairing: The Salesman x Reader

♡⃕.summary: The man you had known for way before, before he 'ruined' your life, the one you were so determined to find, pays you a visit.

♡⃕.word count: 1.5k+

♡⃕.a/n: This is my first time writing a "proper" fic and it did NOT turn out the way I wanted it to but ig we all start somewhere. I hope yall like it, thank you!! 😭 [not proofread]

Being the only surviour of what you considered no less than hell on earth, you should have been content, no? How could you be? After witnessing the death of so many people, people who you promised you would enjoy life with after escaping that game.

Call it greed, call it madness, whatever it was, it had people blinded in those games.

One would call you crazy if they saw how determined you were to put an end to the games you had played and survived.

Being already considered half crazy, if not a total gone case by your friends, you found it hard to even believe yourself at times. If it wasn't for the giant stack of money in the corner of your store room, maybe even Lei would have not trusted you.

There you were, sighing in defeat, another day spent, trying to search for the man who ruined your life by a game as stupid as ddajki. Fucking ddajki.

Throwing your phone over at the couch, you sat down next to Lei. With your face hidden now in the curve of your palms, you pondered upon the number of days left, the number of days which still remained unticked on the calendar.

You could not find it in yourself to give up so easily, no. You had been trying for years now, it was as if your life had a purpose.

"Did they find him?" Lei asked, placing a comforting hand on your back. She rubbed your back gently, wishing to offer you comfort. You remained quiet, allowing her to soothe you.

After a pause, you rested your head on her shoulder, seeking more of the warmth she was offering. "I... I am tired, Lei. I am so fucking tired."

Lei closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing you to let your emotions flow as she pulled you into a hug. "It will be okay, all is well."

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤ ㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

͏

Drinking had never really been your thing and yet you found yourself standing right beside Lei, watching as she ordered drinks for the two of you.

"You come here often?" You ask, your wandering gaze landing back at her. Lei simply shrugged, offering you a smile. "Is three times a week often?" She chuckled.

As the hours passed and the two of you made your way out of the bar after spending an undoubtedly wholesome evening, you could not help but ponder upon the cold, almost commanding look that Lei offered to the bartender at one point.

The games had made you too paranoid, they had forced you to pay unwanted attention and overthink every little thing that happened around you. After seeing the countless betrayals before your very own eyes, who could blame you for behaving like that?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lei's voice brought you back to reality. "Oh... It's nothing." You said, looking back at her.

"It has to be something if it had you so deep in your thoughts, what is it?" Lei asked, demanding an answer.

"I said it's nothing. Come on, it is getting late, keep moving, Lei." You said, patting the skirt of your dress, refusing to meet her gaze.

"You do not trust me, do you?"

Oh. Your eyes finally met hers.

"Lei— what are you..."

Lei chuckled, shaking her head. "I love how easy it is to get you so... anxious. Of course I know you trust me, silly!" She laughed. "I earned it, didn't I?" After a brief pause, she added, "Let's get going, hm? It's getting late."

You nodded, moving ahead to look for a taxi for the two of you, blissfully unaware of the cold pair of eyes that stalked each and ever step you took.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ🎟

If there was one good thing remaining in your life, it would be night outs like these with Lei. They would usually end with Lei pulling dumb moves, flirting with strangers, enjoying her life and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't crave the life she has.

A life free from guilt, a life full of excitement and will to see and experience what the next day had to offer.

After looking at the numerous selfies sent by the people you had hired in hopes that at least one of them would succeed in catching the man that had plagued your thoughts, you could not help but groan in frustration.

Another fruitless search. You threw your phone away, closing your eyes as you thought of how your life used to be before all this happened.

A part of you hated yourself for yearning his touch, his caress. You had known for way longer than you would like to admit, he was kind, loving... or perhaps you were a fool.

It was funny how you still remembered each and every night when he took you to his home, when he fed you and held you in his arms when you cried about how bad your life was getting.

You trusted him with everything. Told him about how you managed to get all your hard earned money stolen by your own boyfriend. Sometimes felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You trusted him when he told you to play a game of ddajki with him. You trusted him when he told you to give that number a call.

And now here you were, alive. With all the blood money in your pocket. You wish you had died there. You knew that he wished you had died too. You knew he was scared to meet you or so you liked to believed.

You knew that once you managed to get catch him, you would not let him leave without giving you any answers.

ㅤㅤ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ㅤㅤ‎⎯‎⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ ㅤ 🎟

"Why so silent, hm?"

Your throat felt as if it had closed when you saw him in your apartment, staring at the calendar.

"Missed me, angel?"

He chuckled, turning around. His cold, calculating eyes found your scared ones.

"Weren't you dying to meet me?" He asked, taking a step in your direction.

"I feel a bit— hm desired, knowing that the first thing my sweet girl thought of was searching for me instead of just letting her little brain rest a bit."

He laughed. "Most people would have taken the money and started a new life but here you are, still stuck. Typical." He said, offering a rather phoney smile.

"You expected me to move on?" You cry, feeling a sting in your throat.

"Oh please, save your tears." He said, his voice taking an irritated turn.

"Is this all a joke to you?! I trusted you— I trusted you so fucking much! You ruined my life!" You yelled.

"You agreed to play them. You called that number willingly."

"I was helpless and in need of money, you knew it! I had no idea of what I was getting into!" You yelled.

He didn't flinch, his face showed no emotion. As if her words had no effect on him. "Why do you still yearn for me, after all that happens, hm? I can see it in your fucking eyes." He spat out, taking a few long strides in your direction.

"You think I haven't been watching you?" He laughed hysterically. "Searching for me like your life depended on it..." He paused, tugging you closer as he pressed his forehead against yours. "So unaware of how I never left. "

His words irritated you. You hated how his words still had effect over you— after all that happened.

"You don't know anything." You whispered, your hands clenching into a tight fist and before you knew it, your hand was out to punch him, to take your frustration out.

"Ah, ah." In a sudden motion, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, his grip unyielding "Don't you think I deserve a better welcome?" He pouted.

"Let go, you bastard!" You yell and his hold around you tightens, enjoying your futile efforts futile struggle. "That stubborn spirit... it just makes me want to break you more." His voice drops dangerously low. "But don't worry, angel - I have ways of..." He pauses, staring into her eyes.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his warm breath ghosting across your skin. "...ways of making you beg for more." His free hand trails down your side, maintaining the pressure that keeps you trapped.

"I wonder how long it'll take for you to accept this as your new reality... As your new normal." He smiles to himself, a cold, calculating smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in a possessive kiss.

Before you could comprehend any of this properly, he was already making his way out of your apartment.

Leaving you once again, with just the warmth of his touch.

[ardentlythieving]

It is with great joy that I inform everyone who liked the last Deadfire Map Post that I have reached Dunnage.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 5: In the Spotlight

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: being the "babysitter"= fun...right?

Welcome to the chapter 5 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

The whispers started as soon as I entered the gym for practice the day after the Villanova game. People were staring, their eyes darting between their phones and me. A couple of players from the men’s team even snickered when I walked past.

I didn’t understand what was going on until KK intercepted me by the bleachers, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed and held up her phone. On the screen was a blurry video of me walking into the locker room at Villanova. The caption read: “Paige Bueckers’ mystery girl? 👀”

I groaned, my face heating up. “Are you kidding me? This is so out of context!”

“Yeah, but people love a good rumor,” KK said, scrolling through the comments. “Most of them are just shipping you and Paige.”

“Shipping us?” I echoed, incredulous. “We’re not even—”

“Relax,” she cut in, her tone gentle. “It’s just noise. Don’t let it get to you.”

But it did get to me. All day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watching me, judging me. By the time practice ended, I was ready to throw in the towel on my entire final project.

I went straight to Coach Geno’s office, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. He looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing when he saw me.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said, placing my project proposal on his desk. “The rumors, the stares—it’s too much. I didn’t sign up for this.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Let me ask you something. Why did you choose this project?”

I hesitated. “Because I wanted to challenge myself. To tell a story that mattered.”

“And do you think you’ve done that so far?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stood, walking around his desk to stand in front of me. “I see potential in you, Y/N. You have an eye for this—an instinct. Don’t let a bunch of gossip derail what could be an incredible project. Push through. Finish what you started.”

I nodded, his words sinking in. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Later that evening, I found myself in the gym. The empty court was a welcome reprieve from the noise of the day. I was adjusting my camera settings when the sound of sneakers on hardwood made me look up.

Paige.

“Hey,” she said, her smile soft. “Mind if I join you?”

I shook my head, and she dropped her bag on the sidelines before walking over. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” I replied, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms. “The video?”

I nodded, surprised she even knew about it.

“People are ridiculous,” she said. “But you can’t let them win. Come on.”

She grabbed a ball and motioned for me to follow her to the three-point line. “Let’s work off some of that pressure. I mean granted im kinda banned drom practice though.”

“I’m terrible at basketball, and yeah you are banned.” I warned.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me as your coach, speaking of coah i asked fo sit with you..so like you're my babysitter” she said with a evil grin.

The first few shots were laughably bad, but Paige was patient, adjusting my form and giving me tips. By the time I finally sank a three, I was laughing so hard I almost dropped the ball.

“There you go!” she cheered, throwing her arms in the air.

“Beginner’s luck,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

She pulled out her phone, recording me as I took another shot. “For posterity,” she said when I gave her a questioning look.

“Hang on,” I said, running out to my car to grab my personal camera. When I came back, she was dribbling the ball lazily at half-court.

“Let’s use this instead,” I said, setting up the tripod.

We spent the next hour goofing off, filming everything from trick shots to ridiculous commentary. Paige even tried to reenact her infamous Villanova assist, but it ended with her tripping over her own feet.

As it was getting late we headed back at my dorm, we poured Shirley Temples into a giant pitcher, the fizz of the soda filling the room.

“To surviving rumors and bad basketball shots,” Paige said, holding up her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. “And to you, for teaching me how to shoot a three.”

She laughed, leaning back against the couch. “You’re a natural.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.

As the night wore on, we sat there talking, the camera still sitting on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to grab it, to capture this moment. But another part of me knew that some things were better left undocumented, kept just between us.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 .... (more to be added)

[ikkyfics]

Hair Bleach

Pietro Maximoff x f!reader

Summary: He was sitting on the kitchen counter, his long legs stretched out and his messy brown hair already partially covered by the bleach you were carefully applying. “Do you think it’ll look good?” he asked, his voice low and slightly rough, but carrying a playful tone that was so characteristic of him. “You’ve done this before, remember? It wasn’t exactly a disaster,” you replied, trying to focus as you spread the cream through his hair.

Warnings: fluffy, modern!au

Masterlist

Maybe it was the drink you both had earlier – that cheap wine Steve insisted on serving – or maybe it was just the laid-back atmosphere of the party, with Wanda’s laughter echoing through the room and the music that seemed like it would never stop. You weren’t exactly sure what had made you comment on his hair. Maybe it was a flash of memory, a detail lost in time.

“Do you remember when your hair was bleached?” you had asked, both still a little dizzy as you walked down the empty street, heading home.

He laughed, his voice rough and a little drawn out, clearly carrying the influence of the drinks. “Remember? Hard to forget. You loved messing with it.”

“I really did,” you admitted, feeling your face heat up. It was true, after all. Pietro with bleached hair had been almost a comical version of himself – always complaining about the upkeep, but knowing how much you liked it.

“Then why don’t we do it again?” he suggested, that carefree sparkle in his eyes that was so typical of him.

“Now?” you asked, laughing.

“Now,” he confirmed, with an unexpected determination.

And before you could protest, you were standing in front of a 24-hour pharmacy, arguing over which bleach brand would be best while laughing like two teenagers.

Now, in your apartment, the wine had given way to a comfortable sobriety. The apartment still smelled like the party, as if the echoes of the night you’d spent together refused to completely disappear. Dim lights filtered through the blinds, creating an almost theatrical contrast between the dark and the light. You were still in your party dress, a piece of fabric that seemed made for Pietro to look at you like that – his blue eyes sparkling, intense and sweet, as if the thought of looking away was unthinkable.

He was sitting on the kitchen counter, his long legs stretched out and his messy brown hair already partially covered by the bleach you were carefully applying. The black t-shirt was a little askew, revealing the outline of muscles you knew by heart, but that still made you blush as if it were the first time you saw them.

“Do you think it’ll look good?” he asked, his voice low and slightly rough, but carrying a playful tone that was so characteristic of him.

“You’ve done this before, remember? It wasn’t exactly a disaster,” you replied, trying to focus as you spread the cream through his hair.

He smiled, that grin that was a mix of mischief and tenderness, before tilting his head back, looking at you closely. “It wasn’t a disaster because you said it looked good. Everything you say looks good, I believe.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile that slipped out was inevitable. Pietro had that effect on you – an almost magical ability to turn the simplest moment into something that felt extraordinary.

“Stop moving your head,” you murmured, gently pushing his face into the right position.

“Hard to do. You’re here, looking gorgeous like this, talking to me as if I don’t want to kiss you every five seconds.”

“You’re already distracting me,” you shot back, but he didn’t seem in the least bit sorry.

“It’s part of my charm,” he replied before sliding one of his large hands to your waist. The touch was warm, firm, as if he needed to feel your presence there, just to make sure this was real.

“Pietro,” you complained quietly, but your voice lacked any strength. Not when his fingers were mindlessly tracing little circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Just one kiss,” he asked, leaning forward, his short beard brushing your cheek before he reached your lips with his.

It was a lazy kiss, but full of meaning. He had always been like that with you, direct in his feelings, with no room for doubt.

When he finally pulled away, you sighed, but the laughter that slipped out afterward was involuntary. “If I mess up, it’s because you can’t stay still. It’ll be your fault.”

“Then I’ll have to live with a permanently stained head,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But I bet you’d still think I’m cute.”

“Maybe,” you teased, turning your attention back to his hair.

Your fingers slid carefully through the brown strands, now covered by the white bleach cream. The chemical smell filled the air, but it wasn’t enough to overshadow the sweetness that seemed to emanate from the moment. Pietro closed his eyes slowly, as if savoring a luxurious experience and not something as mundane as getting his hair bleached in the kitchen of your apartment. For the first time that night, he was quiet, allowing you to work in peace – at least in terms of words.

His hands, however, weren’t so easily quieted. One rested on your waist, the fingers unaware of the thin fabric of the dress you were still wearing, while the other moved up to your thigh, resting there with familiarity and a touch of affection. He wasn’t exactly distracting you, but he didn’t seem willing to let you forget he was there, that he needed to touch you – as if you might disappear if he wasn’t sure you were real.

The warmth of his touch was something you could feel even through the fabric, a constant reminder that he was near, that he was yours. And as much as you tried to focus on his hair, the bleach, the time it needed to work, it was impossible not to be affected.

“If this keeps up, I’m going to mess up,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

His lips curved into a lazy smile, his eyes still closed. “Doesn’t seem like I’m the one distracting you right now,” he replied, but didn’t move, just enjoying the feel of your fingers massaging his scalp.

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with the soft sound of his breathing and the sensation of his hair under your fingers. For a moment, you lost yourself, the movements becoming slower and more careful. It was almost hypnotic – the texture of the strands, the warmth radiating from his skin, the way he seemed so absorbed in the touch, as if nothing else mattered.

And then you looked at him.

His face was relaxed, dark lashes contrasting against his pale skin, the stubble outlining the curve of his jaw. His chest rose and fell in a tranquil rhythm, as if he were on the verge of a light sleep, but the smile on his lips was still there, a small curve that seemed impossible to erase.

It was inevitable. You leaned in before you even realized what you were doing, your lips touching his in a gesture as natural as breathing. Pietro responded immediately, as if he had been waiting for this, his hands gently gripping your waist and thigh, pulling you closer.

The kiss started sweetly but quickly turned into something more. It wasn’t urgent, but it had an intensity that made your knees almost buckle. When you tried to pull away, his hands wouldn’t let you, holding you in place as if he wasn’t done yet.

“Wait,” you tried to protest against his lips, but the word came out muffled, without conviction.

It wasn’t until you felt something wet trickling down the side of your face that reality hit hard. “Pietro!” you exclaimed, laughing as you pulled away.

He opened his eyes, confused, but the smile quickly returned when he saw the white stain on the side of your hair and a bit on your forehead. “Well, looks like you’re going to bleach with me.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed. “I told you this would happen! Now my hair’s going to be stained, and it’s all your fault.”

He shrugged, not a hint of regret. “You’re still beautiful. Maybe we should bleach it all at once.”

“No way,” you replied, trying to wipe the cream off your forehead with the back of your hand, only to spread it even more.

Pietro laughed, that warm, contagious laugh that made your heart race. He grabbed a piece of paper towel and leaned forward, wiping the stain off with a care that was completely at odds with the laughter shaking his shoulders. But then he held your face, giving you a look full of affection. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

You blinked, surprised by the intensity in his voice. “I know, Pietro.”

His fingers ran along your cheek. “I want you to know. Really. I don’t care about the hair, or what we do. I just want to make you happy.”

Your heart tightened, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to disappear. “You already do,” you said, your voice softer than you intended, but full of sincerity.

He smiled, that small, genuine smile that was all his. “Good. Because you’re everything to me.”

You felt the words like a hug, warm and full of meaning. He had always been like that – direct, no nonsense, but full of feeling.

“Now stop distracting me,” you said, trying to refocus, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide.

“No chance,” he replied, leaning in to steal a kiss before you could protest.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 57

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,835ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan take care of you despite you feeling like a burden.

Notes: Next update will not be until Jan. 19th at the earliest. Thanks for understanding. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

After your brief words to Logan, the pain overtook you again and you fell back unconscious. When it was Laura’s turn to take care of you, Logan made sure that the door was shut behind him. He knew that the two of you needed your privacy. Laura’s tears started as she sat next to your bed and took your hand.

“I can’t lose you, mom,” Laura sobbed. “I’ve lost everyone else… I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Always,” you rasped, still groggy but at least waking up. “You're my daughter… can’t stay mad at you for long…”

“Mom! I’ve been so worried… so scared.”

“I know, kiddo… but I’m here.” You gave her hand the best squeeze you could muster.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” your laugh fell flat.

Laura didn’t find it funny one bit, her face falling more. “There’s got to be something that we can do… Something that will make this easier.”

“Cassandra told me that Charles’ seizures affected my mutation… she said that there was something that she could do about it but refused to help… She’s dead now and I can’t go back to the mansion to get Charles’ help.”

“I can’t… I can’t lose you… I can’t stand by and watch your mutation kill you like dad’s did.”

“Laura… Listen to me. No matter what happens, you continue down the path that you are on. Do not become what they made you to be… Promise me.”

She nodded. “I promise, mom.”

“Good… Now… I really need some more pain meds.”

~~~

Logan had locked himself in the bathroom after leaving your room. His mind was swirling with memories of his version of you, of the events of the last day or so, and of the information that your Logan’s adamantium bones had poisoned him. 

Would he be dealt the same fate?

Or would he be cursed to watch you deal with a similar fate?

And would he be strong enough to deal with any of what happened? He wasn’t strong enough the first time when things got hard. He only made things harder. Splashing his face with some water, Logan met his own gaze in the mirror. He could do this. Be this person. Be better than he had been for his you. Be better for Laura and Wade. Logan couldn’t let the people who trusted him down again. He sighed before heading out to the living room.

“Still writing?” Logan grumbled as he saw Wade lounging on the couch with his laptop.

“Nope,” Wade responded, “just trying to beat your ass in saving the day.”

“What?”

“I’m going to find someone who can help cure our Little Flame. The normal people are out of the question since she can’t go near the mansion, so I’m searching for someone else.”

Logan’s log strides took him quickly to sit beside Wade and look at his screen. “What have you found?”

“Nothing and no one. I’m thinking we may need to take a travel through the Multiverse to find a way to help her.”

“We can’t just go from universe to universe without knowing what we’re lookin’ for.”

“We’re looking for a telepath,” Laura stated, heading into the kitchen. 

“How do you know?”

“My mom’s awake. She told me.”

Wade and Logan rushed down the hallway and burst into your room. You winced at how loud they were.

“Buttercup!” Wade exclaimed.

“Wade, Logan,” you greeted.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asked, stepping closer.

“Fine… Laura’s getting me meds and I’m afraid I’m going to need more burn cream than I have.”

“Oh! Nose goes!” Wade announced, placing a finger on his nose. “Ha! Looks like Peanut has to go!”

“What the fuck was that?” Logan wondered, completely confused. “You can’t just put your finger on your nose like a child and—“

“Why don’t both of you go?” You interrupted. “Laura can take care of me just fine. Besides, we all need some food.”

“Yeah! Just me and my Peanut, running errands!” Wade exclaimed, clapping excitedly.

You went to laugh, but it quickly turned into a whine at the pain. You noticed the shift in the men immediately, both ready to jump in and help you. 

“I’m fine,” you told them. “Go. Laura’s got this.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Wade said before skipping down the hall. Logan lingered in the doorway. “Come on, Peanut!”

“Go, Logan. Your boyfriend’s waiting. I’ll be fine.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Logan grumbled, following after Wade.

Laura came into the room with a water bottle and a variety of meds. She came over and sat on the bed. She carefully helped you sit up against a bunch of pillows. 

“I can do the rest,” you said, shakily reaching for the pills. You took them and threw them down your throat before Laura handed you the water bottle. “I hate this… Laura, I’m going to need your help to get to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” 

Laura took the water bottle, setting it aside before carefully helping you to your feet. You leaned heavily on her as she guided you to the bathroom. She helped you inside and you gripped the counter.

“I can handle it from here,” you told her.

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I don’t mind—“

“I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Laura sighed before leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. You took care of business before using the counter to get you up and wash your hands. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You could see the burns that littered the skin that you could see. Slowly, you pulled your shirt up and quietly gasped. Your torso was burnt badly. There was no stopping the tears. 

You absolutely hated this. You hated how your powers were failing you and you didn’t know how to stop it. You hated how your skin was quickly becoming more scarred than ever before and how weak you were becoming. But what you hated most was that you were becoming a burden to Laura and your friends. You couldn’t hold back the sob that erupted from deep inside you. Your body gave out, proving how weak you still were, and you collapsed to the floor.

“Mom?” Laura sounded very concerned from the other side of the door. “Are you okay? Do you need any help?”

“No,” you quickly said, trying to calm yourself. “I’m fine!”

You knew that Laura didn’t believe you, but you were thankful that she didn’t push anymore. You grabbed a nearby towel and wadded it up before placing it against your mouth to try to drown the sobs.

Laura sat against the wall opposite of the bathroom as she listened to your sobs. Her own tears gathered. Leaning her head back against the wall, Laura closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel all the swirling emotions inside of her. She snapped to attention the moment she smelt smoke. Without a word, Laura barged into the bathroom to find you curled up on the floor, towel against your mouth, and small flames forming around your body.

“Mom! Please, you’ve got to calm down,” Laura begged as she knelt beside you. She pulled the towel from your grip before you could set it on fire before she grabbed your hands, ignoring the burning sensation that ran through her own. “Mom, breathe with me. In… Out…”

“I—I—I need… to… cool… down…” You stammered while trying to catch your breath.

“How do I do that?” Laura asked.

“The… tub…”

Laura moved quickly. She turned the cold water on and plugged the tub before helping you into it. Neither of you care that you were still wearing your clothes. Laura held tightly to your hand as the two of you waited for the cold water to help you. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, mom, don’t apologize,” Laura shook her head. 

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me… you shouldn’t have to lose another parent like this…”

“You took care of me and you didn’t even have to. I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

“So I’m thinking we head to the TVA and see what we can dig up there on a nearby telepath,” Wade planned as he and Logan carried the groceries up the stairs. “I don’t care what universe or time we need to go, we are finding a telepath.”

“Let’s just focus on getting Y/N feelin’ better before we plan another visit to the TVA,” Logan muttered, opening up the door of your apartment. He immediately could sense that something happened. He dropped the grocery bags and raced down the hall, only to find you in the tub with Laura sitting beside it. “What happened?”

“She broke down and over heated,” Laura explained. “She fell asleep and I couldn’t get myself to move her. The water is keeping her cool and helping soothe the burns.”

“I’ll move her to the bed. Grab her a new set of clothes and Wade—“

“I’ve already got the burn cream and bandages!” Wade shouted.

Laura nodded as she gave your hand a squeeze before going to get you a new set of clothes. Logan found a towel and crouched down next to the tub. He laid the towel over his lap then reached down and pulled you out of the tub. A whine slipped through your lips.

Logan quickly shushed you. “I’ve got you, Y/N,” he said softly. “Go back to sleep. We’ll take care of ya.”

He wrapped the towel around you and tried to dry you off the best he could. Laura came back with a new set of clothes for you and Logan gently set you on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“I’ll let you change her,” he said. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll carry her back to bed.”

~~~

When you woke up to full consciousness, you were back in bed, changed, and bandaged up. Your door was open and no one was in your room, though you could hear them down the hall in the living area. Doing a quick check of your body, you still felt achy but it was better than before. You pushed yourself up and moved your legs over your bed. Unsteadily, you got to your feet and carefully headed out into the hall. Once you were there, you used the walls to help you get out to the living area where you found Blind Al sitting on the couch with Laura, the two quietly discussing something and Wade and Logan bickering in the kitchen. You noticed that your kitchen was a mess as the two of them worked to make something.

“What is going on out here?” You finally spoke up. Everyone’s head snapped in your direction.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Logan asked as he rushed over.

Laura was at your side in an instant, her arm around you to hold you up. “You should be resting,” Laura scolded. 

“I’m feeling a bit better,” you insisted. “And I heard all this commotion out here. What is going on?”

“I’m making dinner and baking a cake!” Wade exclaimed, still working away in the kitchen.

“Sure doesn’t smell editable,” Althea retorted. “Smells like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh before wincing. Laura and Logan were immediately on alert.

“Okay, enough,” Logan said. “You’re going back to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, “My healing factor is kicking in. I can sit on the couch.”

“Mom,” Laura whispered, giving you a pleading look. “Please go lay back down.”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” Logan stated, sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you down the hall.

“Logan!” You squealed, smiling and laughing. 

It lifted everyone’s spirits to hear that sound. You felt at safe—almost home—in Logan’s arms as he carried you back to bed. You smiled up at Logan as he set you down, a brief moment you forgot about everything, including that the man touching you was not your husband. Suddenly, your face fell and you flinched away as your mind caught up with reality. Logan was not your Logan. He was not your husband. Logan noticed the quick shift.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, fighting back the tears. “I’m just tired.”

Logan didn’t believe that you were telling him the whole truth. “Well, Wade and I are almost done with dinner.”

“Okay.” Your eyes were focused on your hands as they messed with the blanket.

He dipped his head to try to catch your eye but you avoided it. “Are you sure there’s nothin’ wrong?”

“Let me know when you’re done with dinner.”

Logan let out a grunt, studying you for a few more seconds before leaving the room. 

~~~

You were back to work a week later, despite Laura and Logan’s wishes. Wade was on your side, telling everyone that his favorite superhero was strong enough to handle anything. You were beginning to feel added pressure of Wade’s belief in you along with everything else you were still feeling. Despite it being summer, you wore long sleeves to constantly cover the scars that now littered your body more than you had ever had before.

Laura, Logan, and Wade could see that things were still weighing heavily on you. Each of them did what they could for you, though you often insisted that you were fine and could handle everything. You were pushing their help away, embarrassed that you need to rely on them so much.

One night, you came home late do to a closing shift. Logan could hear you from where he was waiting up in his apartment. He had made it a habit to listen for you on your late shifts. He quickly went to the door and peeked his head out to see you struggling to open the door due to your hands trembling and new burns on them.

“What happened?” Logan asked, taking quick strides over to you.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, focusing on getting the door open. “I’m fine.”

“Your hands are burnt.”

You pushed the door open, causing it to slam against the wall. You were thankful that Laura was sleeping over at a friends house so that you didn’t have to worry about her see you like this tonight. You marched inside, with Logan close behind. He gently closed the door and took note to take care of the hole that the doorknob had made in the morning.

“Y/N, we need to take care of your hands,” Logan said quietly.

“We don’t need to do anything,” you retorted, focusing on anger out of all your swirling emotions. “I can take care of myself just fine. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to. I can—“

“I don’t even know you!” You spun around to face him. Your hands clenched as flames threatened to take over. “You look like my James— my husband, but you’re not him. You have a different life, a different set of memories. You have a different me!” Tears began to sizzling down your heated cheeks. “I don’t even know what fully happened between the two of you but you seem to know my whole life story. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need to be your replacement and you don’t deserve to be mine. We can be friends, that’s fine, but I don’t need you stepping in to take care of me all the time! You’re not my husband!”

“Y/N, I’m—“

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

Logan’s hands came up in surrender as flames engulfed your fists. “Okay, okay, just please take a deep breath. I— I’ll go, just please, stop. Stop the flames. Don’t hurt yourself anymore, please.”

“Then get out!”

Logan hesitated for a moment, but he could see the seriousness and heartbreak in your eyes. You wanted to be alone and him being here right now would only make things worse. With slow steps, he turned and left the apartment, but he couldn’t get himself to move away from the door.

You were right in some of your words. Logan wasn’t your husband, but he wasn’t trying to be. He was just trying to help you like friends do. You also had a point that he definitely knew more of your story than you knew of his. Logan just hated to talk about his past. It brought him to a place he couldn’t handle. But maybe you deserved to know that you weren’t a replacement to him. 

Logan sighed as he heard your sobs through the door. There was no way he was going back to his apartment tonight, even with it just next door. He still didn’t know what happened to you before you got home and you were clearly not in a good place mentally. He leaned against the door and slid down to the ground.  He couldn’t leave you alone. He would wait until either Laura returned or you decided to leave the apartment. 

next chapter >

[unknownperson246]

a/n: Could you do a request that is modern day axl, something just fuckin freaky, like toys, over stimulation, just him fucking the absolute shit out of you, him also having a obsession with reader tits, and loves her hair, how it falls down n shit idkkkkk, maybe some fluff after wards, like watching a horror movie to fall asleep, and kissing and cuddling in each other, THANK YOUUUUU I HOPE THAT ISNT TOO MUCH, LOVE YOUR STUFFFF

Hiiii THANK YOUUUUUU SO MUCH ❤️❤️. I LOVED THIS REQUEST. Sorry it’s a bit late babes. Hope you enjoy it 💋.

Modern Axl Rose: Downtown:

Words: 1,568

Warnings: *smut* *fluff* *age gap* *oral sex* *f receiving* *toys* *overstimulation* *cheating* *daddy kink* *pet names*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were upset at your boyfriend. He hadn't slept with you since the last time he was at home with you claiming he was in love with you and that you were his whole life. He is in a band and is on tour now that his interesting rock band is gathering fame slowly. He did not seem interested in you. You wanted a serious relationship with someone who wanted to be with you. You happened to be at one of his concerts to tell him some news. You tried to talk to him about getting this relationship further but you saw him on stage with another woman. 

He was kissing her on the lips in front of a huge crowd. Tears started to flood your eyes. You ran through the crowd with sobs of agony. Jealousy and anger ran through your mind. You were not thinking judiciously. You were a person who made many jarring and detrimental decisions. 

You were vastly wrathful of your sickening boyfriend. As you were running away you bumped into a man. He held onto your arm. His touch was oddly warm. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked in a familiar deep raspy voice. 

You looked up and it was Axl Rose. You had met him multiple times backstage because of your boyfriend being a rockstar. According to Axl, your boyfriend's band reminds him of the original lineup of guns.  Axl was always around watching your boyfriend perform and this was the first time you two had ever been alone. 

 “Yeah I’m fine” You had stated to him while sniffling and wiping away any visible tears.

“No you're not,” He said holding on to your arm.

“Yeah, I am.” You had said again 

“Let me make you feel better sweetheart.” Axl had whispered in your ear. 

His grip on your arm went unyielding. You melted in his arms and started to sob. He gulped and stood there keeping you safe and protected in his strong arms. He pets your hair with each crying sound you made. You were finally done. You weren’t going to sit around in sadness wasting your time over some dumb guy. 

You crying in pain was driving Axl mad. He hated seeing someone like you so small and innocent hurt. 

“I’m taking you home,” Axl said, helping you with putting your coat on. 

“Thanks.” You sniffled. 

“I didn’t like that bastard anyway,” Axl said to you.

“Yeah. I need to tell him that we’re breaking up.” You said laughing now.

“You know I really thought he would be the one.” You chuckled. 

No feelings of hatred were in you. You found this whole situation so funny now. It was a shame your ex-boyfriend couldn’t have you. 

“Your way too good for him Y/N” Axl had said to you.

“You should be with someone who cares,” Axl said while playing with your hair. 

“I love the way your hair falls and takes its place.” Axl had twirled it around with his finger.

You started to cheer up and blush because of his compliment. Axl drove you to his nearby home. Once you stepped out Axl took your coat off and hung it off to the side. 

He took you to his room. He had made you lay down on his bed.

“I’m going to take you downtown tonight.” He chuckled with a wicked smile. 

You couldn’t contain yourself. You were so wet for him. You just had a lady boner from him saying those sweet and arousing words to you. You hopped on the bed, stripping yourself completely for him. You watched the bulge in his pants grow.

“Are you getting hard?” You chuckled. 

You got off the bed and started palming him with your hands through his pants. It was his most sensitive area. You felt him grow harder as you did this swift action. You stopped and he started to frown. He then decided to punish you.

“How bad of a girl have you been Y/N?” Axl asked you this unexpected question.

“Really bad daddy.” You smiled slowly.

“Good.” Axl had said.

He grabbed a box labeled “for bad girls” from a remote corner of his bedroom that looked modern and fancy.

He had toys shoved in the box. They were brand new. He had been waiting to use them on women but he never brought them over. He put the sturdy metal box that had cute designs on his cushiony bed. His hands went to your knees. 

“Spread your legs for me babydoll.” He smirked.

You laid down on your back and your hands were resting on your belly. You had spread your legs for Axl. It was like he was opening a treasure box full of gold. You felt a bit cold from being naked but you were going to need it since it was about to get toasty. 

He had a vibrator he pulled out of the box earlier. It had a remote to it. He shoved it up inside of you. It was bent. It was shaped perfectly for it to hit your G-spot over and over again. He started to toy with the remote at the lowest speed.  

“Look at that. It fits in your small pussy.” Axl laughed.

You went along with it and you let him play inside of you. 

“You’ve been a bad girl Y/N. This is how daddy punishes bad girls.” Axl chuckled looking at your facial expressions of pleasure.

“I’ve been a very bad girl Daddy.” You moaned. 

His words and facial expressions just made you more thirsty for his cock. You were desperate for it. Soon you felt the toy’s vibration just go faster. Eventually, Axl had turned it up to the highest level.

“Fuck” you moaned quietly. 

“Axl I mean Daddy I’m going to-” You had moaned in pleasure.

Axl already knew your next words before you were able to voice them.

“That quickly?” Axl set the vibrations off. 

He took the toy out of you and opened your legs himself. You felt his hands on your knees once more. You had no idea of his plan.

Your body shivered when you saw his mouth going over to your pussy. His tongue left a stroke and he left some saliva on your vulva. He started to suck you slowly. He kissed your vulva softly in between sucking so he doesn’t tire himself out. His hands were now holding onto your feet right above your ankles so you stayed in place.

“Axl.” You helplessly moaned in your hoarse voice.

“Please stop. I’m getting overstimulated and it's starting to hurt.” You begged in a whiny voice.

Axl immediately stopped. 

“Sorry darling.” Axl had said with a frown getting upset he hurt you.

“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t you. My lady part is just stinging right now from overstimulation  but when it stops we can continue.” You said to Axl.

“Sure,” Axl said.

He still wanted to have fun and you could tell he was downhearted. You got up from being on your back while Axl had put that toy in you and while he was eating you out. You grabbed Axl's hands and teased him by putting his hands on the sides of your body. His hands slowly slid up and you allowed it to happen. His lips connected to your nipples and he started to bite them slowly. He gently stopped biting and started to grope them. His grip was incredible. 

“Daddy, we can start again. I feel better now.” You stated.

You got up on your knees preparing yourself. 

He immediately jumped up and his cock was hard for you. He removed his pants but his shirt remained on. He was insecure about himself but you knew he was flawless. 

The anticipation grew thicker in the air when he positioned his dick on your pussy sending shivers through your body. He went in slowly to make sure you weren’t in any pain.

 “Tell me when to go faster” Axl looked down at you. 

“Axl faster please.” You whined.

Axl started thrusting himself inside of you at full speed. His hips collide with yours every second. 

“So good babydoll.” Axl had complimented your body.

“Axl” You moaned. 

“I love it when I hear you moaning my name.” Axl groans in pleasure. 

You feel his thrusts get sloppy as you feel a hot oozing liquid coming out of him and going into you. You felt a thin layer of sweat coat you. You felt the sharpness of his hips over and over again. In the last moments of him thrusting you purposely clench your pussy around his cock. He pulls out and his cock is covered in strings of come. His cock is also covered in your come. You lay down on his bed again to rest. 

“Your amazing Axl” You kissed him on the cheek showing your appreciation and gratitude towards the act both of you just completed. 

He helped you clean up his jets of come that kept gushing out of you. He helped you over to the couch and he grabbed the remote and let you choose a movie. It was a horror movie. Soon after the movie you both fell asleep together on his couch cuddling with kisses. Your ex boyfriend was wondering where the hell you were. You had eventually told him over text that the both of you were over. 

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 7

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

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Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

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Chapter 7: Breaking Point

Y/N’s POV

It’s been, what, two weeks since I last saw Sukuna? Since he left my apartment I finally put my foot down. It feels surreal. Like he was here one moment, his presence filling every part of my life, and then, just like that, he’s gone. I can actually focus in class again, and my thoughts are less cluttered without his constant ups and downs. For the first time in a long time, I’m getting assignments done on time, and keeping up with my workload. But underneath it all, there’s this ache, a hollow space where he used to be.

I try to ignore it, but it’s always there, tugging at me, making it hard to concentrate completely. It’s the little things—his laugh echoing in my mind, the feel of his arms around me, his stupid smirk whenever he got under my skin. I find myself wondering if he’s okay. Did he come out of the hospital yet? Did he manage to finally piece himself together?

A part of me wants to reach out, just to check in. Maybe see if he’s doing better, if he’s still leaning on his friends, getting through each day somehow. But that’s not my place anymore, is it? I gave him so many chances to let me in, to let me help, and every single time, he shut me out. He made it clear he wanted to handle things his way. And I… I need to start respecting that boundary, as much as it hurts.

I take a deep breath, glancing out the window of the studio. The city is buzzing outside, people going on with their lives, completely unaware of the turmoil inside me. I sip my coffee, watching the people walk by, their laughter faintly audible through the glass.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a message from Utahime.

Utahime: You doing okay? Need anything?

I smile, appreciating her concern. She’s been there since everything happened, her presence a constant comfort, even when I didn’t realize I needed it.

Me: Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking too much, as usual.

Utahime: Well, stop that! We’re going out tonight. A distraction is exactly what you need.

I hesitate, looking down at my phone, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I know she’s right. A distraction might help me let go of these lingering thoughts, these small pieces of Sukuna that I can’t seem to shake.

Me: Fine. Where and when?

Utahime: I’ll pick you up at 8. Be ready!

A part of me feels relieved at the thought of getting out, of being around people who remind me of who I am outside of Sukuna, outside of this relationship that became such a heavy part of my life.

as the car moves through the city streets, I press my head against the cool window, letting the world blur past me. The bass-heavy beat of W.D.Y.W.F.M. pulses through my headphones, each lyric tugging at parts of me I’ve been trying to bury.

Maybe you’re right, maybe this is all that I can be, the words echo, hitting a little too close to home. I close my eyes, feeling the weight of those lyrics settle in my chest. The memories start seeping in—the countless times I let myself believe that if I loved Sukuna enough, if I was patient enough, he’d eventually find it within himself to let me in. That if I just waited, things would finally feel right. But now I wonder… maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe I should have known better than to believe that love could fix someone so broken.

But what if it’s you, and it wasn’t me?

The question pierces through my thoughts, stirring a bitterness I didn’t know I still had. He wanted to drown in his own pain, to shut me out every time I tried to pull him up for air. I couldn’t have been the answer, and yet here I am, with pieces of him still lingering, haunting me at every turn.

The Uber driver takes a corner, the familiar streets near my apartment coming into view. I force my gaze away from the window, back to my phone screen, trying to focus on anything but him. It shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does—knowing that for all the love I poured into him, it wasn’t enough to keep him from self-destructing.

The song fades as I arrive at my building. I thank the driver, taking a deep breath as I step out, feeling the city air wrap around me. The streetlights cast a dim glow on the sidewalk, and I let myself pause for a moment before going inside. I need to let him go, I tell myself firmly, as I push open the door and head up the stairs to my apartment. I have to learn to let go of the weight of him, of the what ifs and the could’ve been that keep me tangled in his memory.

I climb the stairs, my heart pounding faster with each step as I spot the car parked out front. The familiar shape, that old, dark-colored sedan that Sukuna drove everywhere... no, no, no, I think, my pulse racing. I’m not ready to see him. My body tenses with dread, the past few weeks crashing down on me in waves.

But as I get closer, I realize it isn’t him. The figure slouched in the driver's seat isn’t Sukuna—it’s Yuuji, his face drawn and pale under the streetlight glow. Relief floods me, only to be replaced by confusion and worry. I stride up to him, feeling the weight of all the things I know about Sukuna’s recent spiral pressing on me, unsettling and heavy.

"Yuuji," I say, my voice sharp, "why are you here?"

He startles, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. I catch the shadow of sleepless nights, maybe even nights spent worrying about Sukuna. He tries to brush off the tension, but I can see right through him. He's younger, not yet old enough to be driving around on his own at this hour. That alone makes my stomach twist.

"I just… I didn’t know who else to talk to," he mutters, glancing away. The hurt and worry in his voice rip into me.

My gut clenches as I realize just how much of Sukuna’s pain has been spilling onto his family. The weight he’s putting on Yuuji, on Choso… it’s more than I ever understood. The anger, frustration, and heartbreak I felt these past weeks—they’re nothing compared to what Yuuji was going through. He’s barely an adult, forced to watch his older brother destroy himself.

“Yuuji,” I say softly, keeping my tone steady, “what’s going on? Why didn’t you call me?”

Yuuji looks up, and in that one look, I see just how much he’s been holding in. “I thought… I thought I could handle it, but… he’s just getting worse. I can’t even talk to him without him blowing up at me. He left some days ago, maybe more, and just stormed out. No one knows where he is. Toji, Choso, and even Geto…they all tried reaching him, but he wouldn’t answer. And then I remembered… you always knew how to reach him when he was like this.”

The ache in his voice cuts through me, and a fierce protectiveness rises up. I left Sukuna to deal with his pain, but it’s clear that his absence has left more than just a hole in my life—it’s tearing his family apart too.

“Yuuji,” I start, forcing calm into my voice. “I know things are tough, and Sukuna… he’s dealing with a lot. But you don’t have to do this alone. Have you told anyone else? Choso? Gojo?”

He shakes his head, looking at the ground. “No. Choso is dealing with enough as it is… and I don’t want them to worry more.”

He’s trying to be strong, trying to hold everyone else together when he’s the one falling apart. I know that feeling all too well. Sukuna and I broke things off because I couldn’t keep sacrificing my sanity for someone unreachable. But I never thought about how much worse it would get for those who couldn’t walk away, like Yuuji and Choso.

I reach out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yuuji, you don’t have to do this alone. You shouldn’t be doing this alone. Sukuna needs someone to get through to him, and it might not be me anymore—but we can try together.”

He stares at me for a moment, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Do you think… Do you think he’ll ever listen? Or is he too far gone?”

My heart aches at his words. “I don’t know. But we have to try.”

He nods, the glimmer of hope in his expression heartbreaking and determined.

I closed my eyes, gripping the phone tight. I knew Kenjaku could be difficult, even evasive when he wanted to be. Sukuna had a talent for finding people who were just as stubborn and reckless as he was. But I couldn’t back down, not now, not with Yuuji looking at me like he was counting on me.

“Kenjaku, I need to know. Yuuji’s here with me. He and Choso haven’t heard from Sukuna in days. They’re worried sick, and he’s…he’s not okay. I think you know that.”

There was a pause on the other end, the silence stretching uncomfortably long. I could almost picture Kenjaku’s calculating look, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “He showed up here a few nights back. I didn’t ask questions. He’s been sleeping it off on my couch, but I’ll be honest—he looks like hell, Y/N.”

The anger that had been simmering inside me now sparked, but it wasn’t toward Kenjaku. It was all for Sukuna—his self-destructive spiral, the pain he was dragging everyone into, and the part of him that still didn’t realize how much he meant to those around him.

“I’ll be over soon,” I said, voice steady despite the turmoil within me. “But please, don’t tell him I’m coming. I don’t want him bolting before I get there.”

Kenjaku’s chuckle was dry, but he agreed. “Sure thing. I’ll keep him occupied, though good luck getting through to him. He's really badly…. He’s fucked up, Y/N.”

I hung up, feeling a mix of relief and dread. When I looked at Yuuji, his eyes were wide, filled with a flicker of hope. He didn’t need to ask what I’d found out; the look on my face told him everything.

“I’m going to see him,” I said softly, reaching for my bag. “I’ll try to talk to him, to get through to him, somehow.”

Yuuji looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and worry. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

With a final squeeze of his shoulder, I turned and headed out the door, my heart pounding as I braced myself for the conversation I wasn’t sure I was ready to have.

Yuuji nodded, taking the key from my hand with a somber expression. "I will. Be careful, okay?" he said, his voice thick with unspoken worry.

I offered him a brief smile, though I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I will. Just... keep an eye on things here, yeah? If anything happens, call Toji."

Yuuji gave me a small, reassuring nod before he turned to head toward the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the hall as he climbed.

I stood there for a moment longer, staring at the door. The tension was building inside me—this wasn't going to be easy. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I knew I had to face it. For Yuuji. For Choso. And for myself.

With a deep breath, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and left the apartment, locking the door behind me. The walk to Kenjaku's place felt longer than usual, each step heavy with uncertainty. The city seemed quieter tonight, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement as I made my way toward the familiar building.

When I finally arrived, I didn't bother knocking. Kenjaku had given me the code to the door ages ago. I typed it in quickly, the door clicking open with an almost too-loud sound. The hallway was dimly lit, and I could hear the faint murmur of voices from behind one of the doors.

I hesitated for a moment, my hand on the doorframe. This was it. I didn’t know what I was about to walk into, but there was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

I stood there, taking in the scene before me—Sukuna, looking completely worn down, his eyes barely open, his hair disheveled and his face a mess of exhaustion and defeat. The cigarette hung loosely from his hand, the smoke curling up into the air as Uraume stood nearby, her posture stiff, frustration radiating off of her.

"Uraume, calm down," I said, my voice steady but firm as I crossed the room, stepping closer to the couch where Sukuna was sprawled out.

He groaned in response, his hand sliding off his face just enough for his eyes to meet mine, dull and clouded. He didn’t look surprised to see me, but his expression was unreadable.

"Great, now I'm fucking seeing and hearing shit," he muttered again, his voice thick with fatigue and annoyance.

I didn’t react to his comment, not letting it phase me. Instead, I walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, just enough to be close but not invading his space. I glanced over at Uraume, who seemed to be holding her ground, but she took a step back, recognizing that I was the one who needed to handle this.

"Sukuna, stop hiding," I said, my tone softer now, almost pleading. "What the hell are you doing?"

He didn’t answer immediately, instead, taking another drag from the cigarette, his eyes drifting away from mine, focused on the wall as though he didn’t want to face me, or anyone.

"You think running away is gonna fix anything?" I continued, my voice low but insistent. "You think wallowing in this is gonna bring Jin back? Or fix what’s broken?"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to snap at me again, but instead, he just let out a deep sigh, and the silence in the room hung thick.

"I’m not hiding," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "I’m just... tired."

"Then let us help you," I replied, my heart aching for him, but frustration mixing with it. "You don’t have to carry all this alone."

Sukuna shifted on the couch, his hand coming up to cover his eyes again, but this time, there was something in the way he did it—a sort of resignation, like he knew I was right, but couldn't bring himself to admit it. Uraume stood there, arms crossed, clearly waiting for him to make a move, but it was clear he wasn’t ready.

I stayed quiet for a moment, allowing him his space, but I couldn’t just leave it at that. He needed to hear it, and I needed him to understand.

"You're not alone in this, Sukuna," I said quietly, my voice breaking through the tension. "You’ve got people who care about you. People who are worried. And you don’t get to shut them out."

He didn’t respond immediately, but I could see his body language soften just a little. I wasn’t sure if he was hearing me, or if he was just too far gone to care, but I couldn’t give up on him—not when he was this close to losing everything, including himself.

"Sukuna..." I started again, but Uraume cut me off.

"You can only do so much, Y/N," she said, her tone serious, but a little softer now. "He’s gotta want it. He’s gotta find it in himself to get back up. And we can’t make that choice for him."

I nodded, swallowing back the knot in my throat. I knew she was right. But it didn’t make it any easier.

"You think he’ll listen?" I asked, barely above a whisper, not expecting a clear answer.

Uraume gave a small shrug. "Maybe. But only if he realizes he’s not beyond saving. But that’s up to him."

I glanced at Sukuna once more, feeling the weight of everything press down on me. His eyes were still closed, and he looked so damn defeated. Part of me wanted to scream, to shake him out of his spiral. But I knew that wasn’t what he needed.

What he needed was time and a reminder that he wasn’t the only one who had lost something.

Sukuna's smirk was laced with bitterness, and it was as if the weight of his guilt and self-loathing had manifested in those cruel words. His eyes never left me as he took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around us like a barrier, creating distance between us that I could almost feel.

I didn't flinch. I refused to let him see the impact his words had, but inside, I was crumbling.

His voice was sharp, cutting through the air, his pain seeping out in every syllable. "You think you can save me, Y/N? Don’t fool yourself. You know I’m worthless."

I wanted to shout at him, tell him he was wrong, but instead, my voice came out softer than I expected. "Sukuna, you're not worthless."

He let out a dry laugh, one that held no humor. "Yeah? Then why the hell did you leave? After we fucked, you tossed me out like I was nothing. Isn’t that what you think of me too?"

Each word felt like a blade to my chest. The anger, the resentment in his voice—it was suffocating. I could see the way his eyes flickered with something raw, something vulnerable that he kept buried under layers of pride and self-doubt. But he was pushing it all on me now.

I took a shaky breath, trying to keep my composure, but the truth was, hearing him say those things cut deeper than I ever anticipated.

I stepped closer to him, ignoring the thick cloud of smoke that hung in the air. "I didn’t leave because I thought you were worthless," I said, my voice trembling but determined. "I left because you pushed me away. You closed yourself off, pushed me out of your life like I was nothing. And I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t see it."

His expression hardened at that, the smirk fading away as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes narrowing at me. "You think I wanted to push you away?" His voice was quieter now, but there was still that edge of anger behind it. "You think I wanted to feel this empty... this fucking broken?"

I shook my head, my heart aching for him even as I held my ground. "No, I don't think that. But that’s what you did. You kept pushing everyone away, even when they were just trying to help. I couldn’t be the one to fix you, Sukuna. I’m not your savior."

He looked away then, the cigarette trembling slightly in his hand. "Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Y/N?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, the anger gone, replaced by quiet desperation. "How do I fix this? How do I fix myself?"

I didn’t have an answer. How could I? He had to want it, had to find the strength to fight through his demons on his own. But that didn’t mean I was ready to give up on him.

"You can start by not pushing everyone away," I said, my voice softer now, almost pleading. "You’re not alone, Sukuna. Not yet."

For a long moment, there was silence between us. The tension hung in the air, thick and heavy, as I waited for him to respond. But instead, he just took another drag of his cigarette, looking lost in his thoughts.

"I never asked for any of this," he muttered finally, his words barely audible. "I never asked to be the one holding everything together. I never asked for... this pain."

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t have an answer for him. All I could do was watch him, hoping, wishing he would find the strength to face what he had been running from.

But deep down, I knew it wasn’t up to me. It never was.

His words hit like a punch to the gut. The rawness in his voice, the way he almost choked on the words—it was as if he was tearing himself apart right in front of me. I watched him, frozen, my heart pounding as he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Just go, Y/N. Please," he said, his voice rough, barely holding it together. "You made the right choice. Don’t let guilt eat at you. Your love... it wasn’t enough."

I felt the sting of tears welling up, but I forced myself to hold them back. This wasn’t the time to break down. He was pulling up walls as quickly as I tried to break them down, and part of me wondered if he would ever let anyone truly see the pieces of himself he kept hidden. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it wasn’t about my love being "enough"—that he was worthy of love even in his darkest moments. But I knew, standing there, that he wouldn’t hear it. Not now.

"Sukuna," I began, my voice catching despite my best efforts to stay steady. "It's not about being enough or not enough. You’re worth more than this... more than what you think of yourself right now."

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t... don’t do that. Don’t pretend I’m some lost soul you can save. You’ve done enough. It’s... it’s better this way."

"Better this way?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, feeling the frustration bubbling up. "Better for who? Because I don't think it's better for you. Look at yourself, Sukuna. You’re drowning, and you’re just... letting it happen."

He clenched his jaw, his hand shaking slightly as he flicked the cigarette into an ashtray. "Maybe that’s what I deserve," he said quietly, almost to himself.

The silence between us felt thick, suffocating. I took a step closer, reaching out, but he backed away, pressing himself further into the couch as if my touch would somehow make things worse.

"If that’s really what you believe..." I whispered, my chest tight. "If you really think you deserve this pain... then I can’t force you to change your mind. But I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, something soft and vulnerable, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He lowered his gaze, the same smirk that once felt charming was now nothing more than a mask.

"Just... go," he whispered again, his voice so small it was almost lost in the room. "Forget about me. Move on. It’s better that way."

I stared at him, wanting to reach him, to pull him out of this dark place. But maybe he was right. Maybe I couldn’t save him. Taking a shaky breath, I nodded, my heart shattering with each step as I turned toward the door.

Before I left, I looked back one last time. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, his eyes fixed on some distant point on the floor, lost in his own torment.

“Goodbye, Sukuna,” I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips. And with that, I stepped out, leaving behind the man I’d loved—and the pieces of myself that still wanted to believe he could be saved.

Sukuna's pov

I watched the door click shut behind her, the silence settling thick in the room. My chest felt hollow, but the ache gnawed deeper, clawing its way up my throat. I turned to my side, curling up on the couch, pressing my hand over my eyes as if I could shut out everything I’d just done. I’d pushed her away—again—and for what? To prove some sick point that I was beyond saving? That I didn’t deserve her?

I could still smell her faint perfume lingering in the air, feel the warmth she’d brought with her now slipping through my fingers. It wasn’t like I didn’t want her here. God, I wanted her more than anything. But how could I let her stay, knowing what a mess I’d become? How could I put her through the hell I was living every day?

My mind drifted back to Jin and Gramps, memories that never stayed buried long. Jin would’ve slapped me across the head if he saw me like this, wasting away, hurting everyone who tried to care. But I could never forgive myself for that night, for not being there when he needed me. And now, I was dragging Y/N down with me.

The silence felt louder now, each second stretching painfully, mocking me. She’d tried, even after everything I put her through. She tried to reach me, to pull me out of this pit I’d dug for myself. But I’d thrown her love back in her face. Again.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, pressing my fists to my temples. I wanted to cry, to scream, to feel something other than this endless, numbing void. But even that felt like too much. All I could do was lie here, drowning in my own misery, pushing everyone who mattered further and further away

Kenjaku grabbed my wrist, yanking my hands away from my ears. "Look at me, Sukuna," he snapped, his tone harsher than I'd ever heard. "This is your last chance. No one else is going to fight for you if you don’t fight for yourself."

I kept my eyes shut, trying to hold on to the darkness, anything to keep from facing the weight of his words. What good was that going to do? The damage was done, and I’d burned every bridge around me.

I tried pulling my arm free, but his grip tightened. "You think you’re the only one hurting?" Kenjaku’s voice dropped, each word laced with a fury that broke through my wall of apathy. "Your brothers are terrified. Toji, Uraume—they’re all watching you tear yourself apart. And Y/N? She might be gone, but you know damn well it’s killing her too."

My hands trembled as I finally opened my eyes, meeting his stare. I could see the disappointment, the anger. But there was something else, something that looked too much like hope.

"Why does it matter?" I murmured, my voice cracking. "I’ve already lost everything. What’s the point?"

Kenjaku’s expression softened for the briefest moment before he pulled me up to sit. "You haven't lost everything, not yet. But if you keep pushing everyone away, there will be nothing left. Not your friends, not Y/N, not even your own damn self."

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and I felt a flicker of something I hadn't felt in months—fear.

I held his stare, my jaw clenched, trying to keep the defiance in my eyes. But Kenjaku didn’t look away, his grip on my arm tightening. "What did you take?" he asked again, his tone sharper, cutting right through me.

I tried to shrug him off, mumbling, "Just something to take the edge off. Why does it matter?"

"Because," he hissed, shaking me slightly, "you can barely stand right now, Sukuna. You're falling apart, and you keep reaching for whatever dulls the pain instead of facing it. So I'll ask you one last time—what did you take?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his demand. I didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want him to know how far I'd fallen. But the way he was looking at me, with a mixture of anger and something close to pity, broke through the wall I’d put up.

"Xanax... some Oxy," I muttered, barely audible, each word feeling like a confession. "And... a couple drinks." I looked away, shame burning in my chest.

Kenjaku's face twisted with a grimace, and he let go of my arm, taking a step back as if the truth was too heavy for him. "This is what you're doing to yourself?" His voice was low, thick with disappointment. "This isn’t numbing the pain, Sukuna. It's destroying you."

I sank back onto the couch, the weight of his words pressing down like a boulder on my chest. "Maybe that’s the point," I whispered, barely holding back the rawness in my voice. "Maybe that’s all I deserve."

Kenjaku knelt in front of me, looking me dead in the eyes. "Then prove yourself wrong," he said firmly. "If you can’t do it for you, then do it for them—your brothers, your friends, everyone who’s still here trying to reach you. But you have to decide to get up and fight."

My answer was simple, and final. "No."

Kenjaku stared at me, frustration flaring in his eyes. I could tell he was holding back from saying more, like he knew words were useless right now.

“You want to keep drowning?” he asked, his voice sharper, leaning closer as if to pierce right through me. “You think this is easier, huh? Wasting away until there's nothing left?”

“Maybe it is," I said, my voice hollow. "Maybe it’s the only way I can even get through this. The only thing that keeps my mind off... everything.”

“You’re just running,” Kenjaku shot back, anger finally surfacing. "You think the pain will leave you alone? It won’t. It’s gonna keep eating you alive until there’s nothing left, Sukuna. Nothing for you, and nothing for the people who actually give a damn about you."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until the sting cut through the haze clouding my mind. “Then let it. I’m not worth anything to anyone.”

Kenjaku exhaled, the fight leaving his shoulders. He stared at me, his eyes dark and steady. “You keep saying that, but it’s not true. You know it’s not true.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and unbreakable, until he finally straightened, his expression hardening. “Fine. You want to stay here, stay here. But don’t expect any of us to stick around and watch you throw your life away.”

[zae-heeyyy]

Alright, I had my laptop open with my iPad beside me, ready to take notes for this one.

His spend, less and less consistent, spurting quickly and spreading on his dirty clothes, the silence following, the emptiness, the shame, the guilt, the coldness amplified by his intimate fantasies.

Bruh's experiencing post nut clarity before it had a name 🤣 we've all been there, Arthur.

Oh, he could have given you all the World’s treasure if that meant you would keep looking at him with these pretty playful eyes. *Sigh* you write him like the big ol' soft romantic that he is.

He ends up standing next to the bed, after having thrown your cape at the other corner of the room with such force it looked like the damn thing was made of burning iron.

LMFAOLOLOMG I had to look away. I couldn't do it. I literally had to stop reading while I LAUGHED SO FCKING HARD! I KNOW HE'S TRYING NOT TO SHIT HiMSELF! TIGHTEN IT UP, COWBOY!

“Arthur, do you really think I was that hot in my tent, every night?”

Phew, I'm relieved that she planned it the whole time! Sneaky, sneaky sneaky 😏

“Get your clothes off.” You order, his reactions making you more confident and straightforward than usual."

This is where I clicked it on too @eternalsams 🤣

A distant magnificent star, impossible for him to reach, condemned to only contemplate.

*more deep sighing* so dreamy and Idyllic.

A dark, glum expression settles on his face and he wraps himself in a deep silence instead of your arms as he finishes to clean the both of you. God, did that man ever know rest for more than a few minutes? At this thought, you bend over to put a small kiss on his forehead, as a thank you for his aftercare.

Hahaha, the shame is literarily never ending. Mans could give you all the orgasms in the world and beat himself up about if it was too much or too little.

After reading and reflecting:

I’m sooooooooooooo into sub Arthur idk what it is. Something about him always doing what he wants, intimidating people, taking what he wants from everybody else just for him to be a fcking obedient dog when a nude pretty girl is standing in front of him. It's just uugughghugugugh Finishing this was literally like waking up from the most vivid dream! I forgot all who, what, when and where I was. Reading is so crazy because what do you mean these little symbols make a movie in my head? I saw the ask inquiring if you write music, and even though you said no, your writing is like music to my ears. The cadence, the flow, the beauty of it all is so like the most beautiful compositions. “English isn’t my first language” she always says, but also as always, she writes it more beautifully than I could ever imagine. You never miss, Piney. Amazing as always.

✧ Fantasies in the dark - II

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur's obsession with you intensifies and reaches a point of no return when you catch him red-handed... ✦ Warnings/tags: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Masturbation (again), Arthur is still a little pervy, stripping, p in v, Arthur's self-esteem's still shitty, sub!Arthur at first then switches into dom, Reader is a BIG tease. Mainly Arthur's pov. ✦ Words: 5k (oops) Arthur's pic is mine, others are from Pinterest. And as always, as English isn't my first language, prepare for some possible misspellings.

Part I - Part II

 A ruby, squared, soft form.

His eyes are stuck on it as his thoughts unthread and tangle endlessly in his brain. 

Arthur was a damned man. He had been for a while now and this fatality had settled into his head for a few years already. His sins were so numerous and varied that he hadn’t even considered the thought of going to rest in Heaven when the Great Reaper would finally put an end to his sufferings. 

But considering all of this, the gunslinger had definitely not planned on adding a new sin to his list by jerking himself off while watching you almost every night for more than half a month. Oh, the same old speech was still playing in his head; his gesture leaking with shame and muscles sweaty from fear of getting caught. The adrenaline and depravation of the act, the sweet, sweet relief of his orgasm, and the momentary satisfaction he was pulling out of it every time was a very dangerous cocktail; he knew it.

He knew, knew, knew everything of that, of course he did. And still, his fingers opening his fly carelessly. Still, his eyes searching for this sublime silhouette of yours. Still, his cock hardening, itching, burning, begging to be grabbed. And still, his hands taking the doomed responsibility of answering the call. Still his muffled groans, his lips bitten, his silent words spoken in his head, your body joining him. Still, your hand, instead of his. His spend, less and less consistent, spurting quickly and spreading on his dirty clothes, the silence following, the emptiness, the shame, the guilt, the coldness amplified by his intimate fantasies. Like those dark loud nights of storms, air charged with electricity, and left in heavy disturbing quietness after the last lightning struck. Still, dreaming, wanting, longing. 

Still you.

He felt insatiable, like an enraged, mad dog, pathetic bastard. And paradoxically, as he finally had found sleep again after allowing his body what it needed, he felt weaker than ever. Weakened by you.

You hadn't left him after the first night he had succumbed to temptation. You had branded his spirit with a red-hot iron. Damned him to a lifetime of ache, a mortal succumbing to a Mermaid's melody and sailing in search of her on an infinite sea.

 A ruby, squared, soft form. 

It’s your shawl lying on a chair. You forgot it a few minutes ago, but he didn’t say anything about it. He’s still looking at it, hands fidgeting, mind pondering. What’s good and what’s bad. The ugliness of his self and soul. The risks, the benefits. 

He thinks back to the day you and him just shared. A job in Rhodes, “needing to be taken care of by two people”, Dutch’s words. He had sent him, which was predictable —the gang’s workhorse rarely knows rest. But you? It surprised him a whole lot more. Something about the job requesting some “feminine charm”. He hadn’t complained. Not when he had realized he would be able to spend some time alone with you. 

And his gaze had been wandering way more than what common decency was allowing him to. Staring and dreaming were all he had been doing lately, anyhow.

Looking at the delicious cleavage your fancy dress was offering when you got out of your tent and joined him back at camp, your breasts pressed up and round, almost impossible not to devour with his eyes. All he could do was make a sarcastic comment about it as the only defense against his urges. You moron Morgan, just say something nice for once. Luckily -or not- for him, you had wrapped your appealing shoulders in the sophisticated cherry-colored cape to prevent the coldness of the night.

Looking at your back as you both rode into town, looking at your neck when he helped you off your horse once into Rhodes. Looking at your lips as you two were sat in one of the Parlor’s house boxes, the job long-forgotten when he had noticed this little wrinkle next to your lips, that one you have when you laugh and find something funny. He would have to add it to his endless sketches of you.

Looking at your thin, sneaky hands from afar as they were slipping into that wealthy gentleman’s pocket to steal the papers you were both here for in the first place. It all felt distant and insignificant to him now, as a forgettable theater play set in the background. 

Later, you had been the one looking at him when he had come to your rescue. The “gentleman” was being insistent with you. As you both had crossed eyes from across the reception room, Arthur had read your apprehension and silent call for help in just a split second. And here he was, puffing out his chest, look dark and intense, muscles tensed. The perfect look of a man you don’t want to cross, that look he and Hosea had worked hard on building, scars and broad shoulders gained after all these years of intimidation. He was so used to it by now he wasn’t even sure he knew how to be anything else. His pointer finger tapping threateningly on the shiny Deputy Star he had on his jacket and his deep, menacing tone had acted as the final details. You should leave the lady alone and get some fresh air, pal. The fool had dropped the case and returned with his tail between his legs without any clue what had actually happened.

And then, your sweet voice asking for a drink. “Come on, we got to celebrate! Finally, a job well handled without a drop of blood.” How could he ever say no to that? It was almost too good to be true. Spending the evening with you, laughing, talking, philosophizing.

Arthur didn’t know he could be that talkative. Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was your presence. Maybe a bit of both. And he had paid for everything. A good hot dinner for both of you, your drinks, and two rooms the moment you told him you were too tired to ride back to camp. Oh, he could have given you all the Wolrd’s treasure if that meant you would keep looking at him with these pretty playful eyes.

As the evening passed, the gentle flow of your endless conversations had led you from the bar to the stairs, to the second floor, to the hallway, and eventually to his room, naturally and serenely, like a rowboat ride on a summer lake.

And finally, after a few yawns exchanged, some delicate eyelids rubbed by you, you had left him to sleep, completely forgetting about your shawl, hanging on one of his room’s chairs. And you had greeted each other goodnight. As friends. This was all he would ever be to you, he knew it. And it was better that way. Like this, he was preserving you from having a pathetic man and a pathetic life being his. He was like an infertile soil, anyway. Any seed you would plant and try to harvest with him would end up rotten, corrupted. Fruitless.

And now left in the stillness of the room, in this deafening silence without the sound of your voice, his vision fixated on your abandoned piece of clothing, the most sinful of all thoughts is digging its way through the fibers of his brain, fed by need and alcohol, gnawing at his neurons, eating up any rational reasoning. 

A ruby, tempting garment of yours.

He wants to grab it. To smell it. He wants your perfume to completely fill his nose, so much it would be like drowning in your scent. You wouldn’t be coming back for it anyway, considering how tired you looked a few minutes ago. And you’d never know about it. Just like you didn’t know he was watching you all this time through the fabric of your tent. After all, he was already so deep down into this rabbit hole of lust, what would it change?

And just like that, before he can even think about it more, his arm is already extending, his fingers wrapping around the forbidden fruit.

A descent into Hell he is not able to stop nor control. And at the same time, it feels like getting closer to Heaven.

He lays on the bed, back against the coarse sheets that still felt better than his cot back at camp, and brings your stole to his nose, almost covering his face with it. He closes his eyes.

And he breathes in.

Hell. If God wanted him to stay virtuous, why did he create such a temptatious woman like you? Your scent is without any surprise just as irresistible and bewitching as your whole self.

The fruity notes of it remind him of your skin and lips he wants to taste so badly, a mouth-watering gourmet scent. The floral and fresh ones, of this sparkling mischievousness in your eyes. And in the end, as he exhales, warm and spicy aromas rain on him. They fill his mind with a deep sense of comfort, as if scenting directly your hair. It’s intoxicating, spellbinding. Driving him deeper into his madness. He doesn’t try to resist, not anymore, this delightful fresco of fragrances painted just for him.

Naturally and almost subconsciously, his vicious right hand reaches his crotch. He’s already hard. Just by smelling your shawl.

This time you’ve really hit rock bottom, old bastard.

He doesn’t even bother thinking about it more, he already knows he’s too deep in; already knows he won’t be able to stop himself. 

Ah shit, screw it, jus’ a quick wank.

He quickly unbuckles his holster belt, then unbuttons his pants, and snakes his hand between the folds of his union suit. A silent swift dance he is used to repeating by now. 

He breathes again a long, deep whiff, and wraps his fingers around his cock thinking of you, once more. 

He sees you and your perfect body, and everything blends and blurs in his heated psyche. The form of your breasts and ass through the tent's canvas he knew by heart at this point. Your smirk, your eyes looking back at his, only his during this night spent together. Your heady, addicting scent surrounds him and fuels his fantasies even more, making them more vivid than before, the soft fabric of the stole against his skin a light caress he imagines yours.

He strokes and strokes and strokes, he needs it more than ever, even if, truth be told, every time is more than ever. His pinkish cock’s head is reddened and swollen from having been rubbed so many times lately, sensible and almost pained. But he doesn't care. It makes him feel even more alive. Even more here. Simply better.

He wants his body to feel pleasure. Pleasure, for once, instead of pain. Pain all the time, pain everywhere, bullets through his muscles, knives on his skin, cutting through his flesh, fists against his bones, breaking his jaws, his nose, his cheeks. Broken, used, beaten, ripped, bruised, overworked, abused. Oh, he’s tired of it. Only in those prohibited moments, he can experience pleasure. No matter how wicked and profane.

The room is now filled with those wet, fast-paced sounds, his rustling against the sheets, and the smallest of grunts coming from his unholy lips as he fucks his fist. Your name escapes him from time to time, muffled by your shawl he's still holding all against him with his left hand, and breathing the air from.

As if all the World’s oxygen would never be as good as breathing through it. As if everything else would feel thick and fusty in his lungs. No Mountains, no Oceans, no flowers, not the tastiest food, nothing could ever compete with smelling your scent. 

Stroke, stroke, stroke. Goddamn it, she’s perfect. A big, hard stroke. Oh God, yes, just a bit more…

Too absorbed by his delirious daydream, he doesn't notice right away the creaking of the door as you enter his room again, searching for the very thing he's using to masturbate right now.

“Arthur, I’m sorry to bother you again but I think I forgot my sh—”

You freeze.

SHIT! He instantly curses loudly and jumps from the bed so suddenly that he almost falls to the ground. A stumbling mess, his holster crashes on the wooden floor with a loud percussive sound as he shoves his member back into his clothes as fast as possible, looking like a disjointed chaos of limbs. He is mortified. There is no way in the world you won’t understand what was just happening. He ends up standing next to the bed, after having thrown your cape at the other corner of the room with such force it looked like the damn thing was made of burning iron. And he doesn’t even know why. Maybe to distance himself from his sins. To try and erase this horrible vision from your pretty eyes. His labored breath and fast-beating heartbeat are now ruled by panic instead of lust. For all his life he had never experienced such shame and felt so utterly stupid. 

There is a small moment of silence, heavy and embarrassed. A little time of denying. No, this can’t be happening. But your look turns in circles from the bed, him, and the scarf, circling him like a cornered animal. That’s it, his pride is dead right here in this stupid hotel room. You see right through him, he’s sure of it. Your piercing beautiful gaze lands on his ears a few times, and he knows they’re crimson just by the heat he can feel on them. But the worst thing of all is his bulge, obvious and raised up as a flag right in the middle of his thighs, under his badly buttoned fly. Like a Mausoleum to his Dignity. The damn thing refusing to shrink and obviously screaming loudly his offence to the whole World. All the contrary, your gaze falling on it produces the exact opposite of what he wants, his cock almost twitching in return. 

Damn it!

Damn it, damn it, damn it!-

“Where you… Hum…” You start, before clearing your throat slightly.

“ ‘m sorry, Am… I didn’t mean to… ‘m such a goddamn fool.” This is the best he can come up with. What excuses could he have anyway? Nothing could justify what he did.

You had never heard his deep asserted voice so chagrined. Utter fear and shame. You didn’t even know he could feel that way.

His gaze is fixated on his dirty boots, refusing to cross yours. Just as goddamn dirty as me. 

“Were you pleasuring yourself, Mister Morgan?” You ask, your tone slightly playful. He doesn’t see it, but a mischievous grin settles on your face.

He takes your tone as a mocking one. You would have all the right to mock him. That’s all he deserved.

He tries to answer but doesn't even dare to admit it verbally, as if it would aggravate his situation. He just nods slowly, as seriously as if he was at a funeral. 

“With one of my clothes?” You ask again, your grin widening.

Another nod, his eyes shutting as if he had been hit by something, your sentence making the whole thing even worse. Oh, just a few seconds ago, he was feeling more present and alive than ever, and now all he wanted was to disappear or die.

He hears more than he sees your steps on the parquet. Every stomping sound hurt him a bit more. He doesn't even dare to move. As if everything he would do from now would offend you. Even breathing, no, even existing is too much.

She’s going to slap me. A step. She's going to yell in my face. Another step. I’m dead. A final step.

You’re so close to him now he’s holding his breath, eyes closed, ready to face the well-deserved punishment of your choice for his trespass.

But he's only met with stillness until you speak again.

“Arthur, do you really think I was that hot in my tent, every night?”

The words reach his ears but his brain refuses them. His mouth opens in astonishment. He closes it to swallow loudly and opens it again as if trying to speak in utter confusion.

“You… I… Wait, really?”

“I never thought you could be that naive, honestly.” You answer, a little chuckle escaping you. One of your hands slowly reaches the side of his face, but he still shivers slightly when it touches him. You guide his head back up for him to finally look you in the eyes.

Arthur's two blue sapphires are topped with anxious brows. A bright confusion and a soft vulnerability. They don’t settle too long on one point of your face out of nervousness, as if they could burn you.

“M-me neither.” He simply whispers, a bashful, nervous smile settling on his mouth. He still doesn’t move.

“Do you really think I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, mmh?” You continue, your fingers traveling from his face all the way down his neck, gently caressing the base of his hair.

You can’t be serious right now.

“I… I don’ know…” And he really doesn’t. This is all so unbelievable to him that he’s persuaded this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any moment.

The only thing anchoring him to reality is your fingers exploring him, making him slowly let out the breath he had been holding in his chest.

“Let me help you finish what you've started…” You murmur, voice low and obvious to what you’re implying, sultry, suggestive.

He feels his shaft pulsing again instantly in answer, his body once again taking the lead. He’s about to say something, to ask you if you’re sure you want to do this with an old bitter moron like him, but one of your hands is already reaching straight to his crotch, palming his warm, needy erection.

“Anh…!” The moan turning into a groan he lets out duplicates your own arousal.

His hips rock against your hand involuntarily, the need for contact of any sort getting more powerful than his shame. He still doesn’t dare do much to you though, not wanting to cross any more limits. He lets you handle him just like you want. He lets the flow of life take him instead of fighting against it, for once. The only gesture he allows is settling his big hands on your back, sweaty and almost shaking.

Oh, your sneaky fingers. They touch and grope and palpate, and he sighs louder. It feels so much better, to have your hand touching him.

After a few more teasing caresses, you sway in a smooth motion and playfully push him backward, making him fall on the bed. He sits there, looking up at you with those two adoring cerulean pupils, as if you were the Sun itself. A distant magnificent star, impossible for him to reach, condemned to only contemplate.

“Get your clothes off.” You order, his reactions making you more confident and straightforward than usual. 

He is quick to obey. You could have asked him to jump off a cliff and he would have done it without even thinking. His clothes fall one by one on the floor and you feast on every area of skin he’s offering you. He ends up entirely naked for your eyes. This Titan, cascade of virile hairs everywhere, prominent scarred muscles carved into stone by Ares himself, gorged with raw powerfulness and designed to kill. To survive. And between those open thick thighs, his aroused member. The one he thought of as the triumph of his shame a few minutes ago, is now the Apotheosis of his Glory. Thick, long, hard like him, surrounded by a crown of tawny curls.

“Look at you…” You let out, almost licking your lips. But he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t see what you do at all. Instead, he let his gaze wander on your chest, and you can almost hear the silent plea in his gaze for you to join his nakedness.

Standing right in front of him, you begin to strip yourself out of your clothes, agonizingly slowly, your face displaying this provocative grin that turns him on so much. It’s purposeful, and you feel your own arousal rising as you notice the red coming back to his cheeks and ears.

First, your boots and socks, discovering your delicate legs. Then your blouse, showing your shoulder and chest, then your skirt. He stays silent all the while, enjoying your little show more than you could imagine. Your hips swaying, your arms gracefully dancing, each piece of clothing falling on the ground, this is all a trance he's getting hypnotized by.

Seeing you undress just for him after all those nights spent on his cot touching himself watching your shadow is like adding all the missing color from a masterpiece, enhancing and fulfilling.

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” You purr proudly, now in your undergarments.

“God yes. Yer a real’ angel.” He praises in a fevered-like whisper.

You smirk as all answer. “Come on now, show me those dirty things you’ve been doing.” You speak while nodding at his crotch in an almost challenging way.

His hand instantly reaches for his cock. It was itching him to since you had looked at it earlier. He presses his fingers hard around it and he grunts softly, the sound incredible to your ears. Obeying you and surrendering fully to his depravation, he slowly starts stroking himself again while watching you intensely. What did he do to deserve such a splendid spectacle?

That’s when you decide to slowly bend inward and undo the last pieces of clothing you still have. Just a few gestures and your breasts are bare and hanging for him to look at. Jeee-sus. You see and hear his hand speeding up. 

Lastly, you reveal your own sex to him, a pearl between those gorgeous thighs of yours, and he curses out loud this time.

“You're so goddamn beautiful. I could... Damn, I could finish right now jus' lookin' atchu.” He confesses, his cheeks, ears, and chest getting even redder at his own words.

“Really, uh? You're quite easy to tease, Mister Morgan.” You tease, before turning around and bending again, wanting him to see your bottom, taking a more than suggestive position with your ass up.

“Oh, for God sake.” He nearly chokes, his rhythm accelerating again; almost frenetic. This is all he ever wanted during those cold lonely moments. All he ever needed to see. And he can’t help but engrave every little detail in his mind; the little scars you have here and there, the different tone and grain of your skin, your hairs, your body’s hollows and bumps. Every little imperfection. And they make it all even better. Better than any fantasies he had ever pictured in the past few weeks. Because they are making you yourself.

You turn again to face him and straddle his lap, unable to resist your own urges that had been building and building since you had found him touching himself to the thought of you.

That’s when something finally lights up in his mind. The moment he feels your soft, warm thighs around him, and how you’re soaked in between them, it hits him. You’ve been wanting him just as badly as he wanted you. As odd and surprising as it sounds to him. This new reality is right there against his tip as you start rubbing your entrance against it, teasing, playing, pressing just a few inches in, gently praising how big he looks and how good it would be to have him inside of you. 

That thing inside of him explodes.

Suddenly his hands are all over you. Touching everything they can, discovering, molding your curves under his fingertips. Hands on your thighs, hands on your hips, waist, neck. Each part of you touched is breaking every chain that was holding him back, one by one. These perfect sensations blind him to any reasoning, any sense of restrain, and push him to palm your breasts. God, the softness, the warmth. He sighs in appreciation as he kneads both of them and you join his pleasured breathing.

More.

One of his hands leaves your chest to grab your ass, roughly, and he squeezes, hard, while he sucks on the breast that has been abandoned. “Arthur!” You moan out in return, pleasured and surprised voice, mouth left open in delight. Oh, he will satisfy you. Those renewed vows appear as clear as day between the mess of his head as he keeps devouring your nipple endlessly, almost suckling at it. He will push that voice of you to its limit, break it until you won’t be able to scream.

“That’ what you wanted all this time, uh? Drivin’ me insane?”

You search for something clever to throw back at him but the calloused hand on your breast suddenly reaches your cunt and you gasp instead. 

“That’ what you do? Torture poor devil like me until they can’t help but fall for you?” He asks again, his confidence heightened by your sweet sounds, his tone getting darker and darker. Touching your folds pleasures him almost as much as you, his brows furrowing into a needy and intense expression.

“J-just you… ‘Just wanted you to notice me…” You admit, your hips rolling on his lap and against his hand. His fingers part your cunt and trace their own way through this little Heaven, exploring this place he had craved so much; and it makes him more excited than any thoughts he could have had on his own.

“Well, that sure worked, girl.”

He lets go of your pussy and you squeal in protest, almost ashamed of your own sound. He smiles triumphantly at you, feeling satisfied to give you a taste of your own medicine. He wraps both of his arms around your waist, your chest ending up pressed against his face; his nose is shoved in it and he sighs louder this time. 

He can’t wait any longer. Not when he has been dreaming of this for weeks. Not after discovering your unforgettable perfume. Not after having felt this wet, warm promise of your entrance. He looks up at your face, searching for any trace of disgust or apprehension but you're completely free from any. Mouth agape, breaths deep and hips shamelessly searching for his, you're even more gorgeous than before, and he snaps.

He guides you carefully, his hands warm and hard against your bare skin. And he pushes.

His sex entering you slowly is deliciously hard and hot. His cockhead is big, way bigger than what you’re used to, and feels so good already. His arms hold you in place as he pushes again, wanting to be completely stuffed in, a long, low growling sound accompanying his movement. Oh, Christ Almighty. He had never felt so good than buried like this in your warm, silky, divine cunt right now.

Once fully settled, you both sighs and breath loudly for just a few seconds, your gazes meeting and silently agreeing on how fucking delicious this feels. Then you move up, wanting to ride him, feeling his shaft pull out as you do, but his arms grab you tighter and put your hips back in place.

“God!” You whine as you feel his length plunging again and hitting that spot inside of you.

He starts to buck his hips up against yours, unable to resist anything anymore. His rhythm, he wanted slow and meaningful at first, is quickly turning fast and hard, a remnant of how incredibly frustrated and needy he had been all this time.

“I’m gonna -Ohh, shit- I’m gonna show ya what ya get teasin’ me like that.”

Arthur's southern drawl is even more prominent, his voice hoarse and deep from effort. His thrusts up are more and more powerful, making you jump up and down on top of him and for the first time in days he thanks himself for having pleasured himself so many times lately, otherwise he would have come instantly right there in your heat. Your breasts bounce in this erotic, unresistible dance that he’ll remember for every future night he'll spend alone.

“Oh Arthur, don’t stop!” 

His cock pulls out and shoves into your cunt so fastly it's rubbing perfectly how you want it deep inside and you reach for his shoulders, needing to hold onto him, already so close. “Yes, yes, yes, right there!”

He hears your accelerating breathing, your higher-pitched moans turning into screams and he searches for your lips with his. Your tender petals against his dirty mouth. But he doesn’t care, there’s only your pussy right now, and your incredible smell he’s filled with once again, just like you’re filled with his tongue and his dick inside of you.

Both his hands grab your ass and he fucks frantically, his balls slapping against it with each thrust, making your plump flesh jiggle and those hitting and smacking sounds resonating throughout the room. Again, and again, and Damn it again.

It’s too much for you. 

You cry out loudly as your fingers dig into his shoulders and your head tilts backward, and his big, solid arms keep you pressed against his chest, completely wrapped around you; and he finally, finally feels it. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, instead of pain. This irresistible release, your pussy clenching and squeezing all around his cock. “-Ngh, s-shit yes angel, give it t’me!”

You give it all to him without any resistance and in a obscene scream. And it’s too much for him.

“Ah, God…” He hisses as he feels it coming, quickly pulling you up —as effortlessly as if you weighed nothing— and pressing his cock against your clit, well nestled between your lips.

He reaches your lips again, needing to finish while kissing you, both of your bodies almost sewn together, his moans sounding more and more like primal growls and hisses at every rubbing movement against your core, movements getting faster and faster, impossibly faster, So fucking good, Jesus so goddamned perfect, Perfect, perfect!- Until he finally comes, translucent cum leaking all the way down his shaft and spreading on your lower belly, all panting and grunting, a complete mess; a satiated beast.

It’s better than any of the dreams he ever had, waking or sleeping. And it’s not just the release of this one and only time, it’s the pinnacle of all these lonely pleasures shared with no one in regretful secret.

For the second time that night, he thinks he’s dead. 

He falls backward, back against the mattress, and you follow, unable to stand without him. In that silence only disturbed by your exhausted breaths, he turns and grabs the first piece of clothing that he has at hand’s reach, his flannel. He gently uses it to clear your belly from his seed and seeing it, on your smooth and soft skin, makes a wave of culpability crash onto him once again. Shouldn't have done all of this. Should have taken care of her properly.

A dark, glum expression settles on his face and he wraps himself in a deep silence instead of your arms as he finishes to clean the both of you. God, did that man ever know rest for more than a few minutes? At this thought, you bend over to put a small kiss on his forehead, as a thank you for his aftercare.

“Satisfied enough?” You finally break the silence, getting up from the bed –not without stretching your back slightly and swaying your hips before bending to reach for your clothes on the floor.

Arthur cannot help but think of a Nymph as you do all of this still naked. Those irresistible, divine beauties that lure men with a simple move of their finger, as they say in books. He knew it was all stories from another time, but he was more and more convinced they would look exactly like you if they did exist.

“More than in a long time. You?” He replies, voice neutral and features closed as usual. He stays on the bed and put only his pants back, his cock finally softening under the coarse fabric. He never stops looking at you all the while.

“Couldn’t be better”. You assert, your blouse falling back on your upper body. You then roughly fix your hair in this casual, impish way that was yours.

That was driving him insane.

“You’re a little minx, ya know that? Gettin’ naked on purpose every night…”

“Oh, please. You didn’t really complain as far as I know.”

“Nah, but ya did make me insane. Teasin’ littl’ thing y’are.” He says with a fond voice he would have preferred less obvious.

You innocently shrug your shoulders, cheeky grin on your face. The way you're playing with him that easily should have been shaming to him, but he doesn't feel any shame anymore, not after what you have shared.

"Goodnight, Arthur." You throw as all answer, leaving him as you walk through the door of his room. He greets you back, the trimmest trace of longing in his rough voice.

Once again alone, once again cold, Arthur grabs a cigarette from his pocket to smoke before falling asleep; maybe to keep this lingering warmth just a bit longer, the sensations of your body, and especially your sex squeezing around his, still remaining on his skin. Lying completely in the bed, he smiles to himself as he notices you have forgotten your shawl —again. Or maybe you had left it on purpose. Maybe you had both times, now that he is thinking about it. The ruby fabric had landed wrapped all around his old, worn-out leather jacket, like a flame dancing around, envelopping, lapping at a tree.

It looks great that way.

Maybe you were only playing with him. Maybe this was only a one-time thing. But who cared. Tonight, Arthur had been taken care of by a Nymph. And no other mortal pleasure, no other solitaries delights, not even the most lustful and depraved images he could have pulled out of his tormented mind could ever compete with that slice of Olympe you had given to him.

a/n: Yeah, 5K words, I knooow! I'm hopeless. It's quite a lot, but I didn't feel like cutting, nothing felt right. What can I say except thank you, so much, for everyone's interest in the first part, for your notes, comments and reblogs, and for reading all of this! I am in utter PANIC rn because I feel like nothing I could write would be as good or as well received as the first part, but here it is! I really hope it didn't disappoint!

Also, to give Caesar what belongs to Caesar, the holster falling was completely inspired by my dear @zae-heeyyy's Piquancy (II)! I thought it would fit the comical aspect of the scene eheh (go check it out)

tag list: @a-court-of-valkyries, @redwritr, @cassietrn, @esquilone, @starlightt180, @narcoticv3nus, @thoughts-of-bear, @emjiroki, @prettyundeadgirl, @eternalsams (I tried to tag people who had shown interest in a part2, really sorry if I missed anyone!)

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Duty Before Love i

Summary: Kate struggles to find a balance between her old life and her new very real reality of becoming an Avenger. Will you fit in her new life... The real question is if there would be space for her in yours.

Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3133 aprox

A/n: Hello everyone!!! This is a little story I've been toying with for a while. I think I've finally gotten it to a place where its not complete trash. I hope you guys enjoy it! If you did please let me know leave a like!

Bishop security was big, there was no denying it. Both Eleanor and Kate had good things going for them. The younger bishop however had no interest in her mother’s achievements. She loved her mother, but if she was at any event that had anything to do with bishop security,  it was because of pure obligation. She hadn’t yet succumbed to the weight of the legacy her mother was building for her. “Oh come on y/n” And there it was, her and her incessant complaining. “Let’s just leave, no one will notice.” You laughed at her statement. “No one will miss you!” You said chuckling. She gasped feigning offense. “What it’s true! You’ve never stuck around, so people don’t expect you to.” She nodded smugly trying to prove her point. “Unlike you people expect me to show up.” She grumbled. “I know what I need to do to fulfill my role, Kate. I’ll have to step up sooner or later.” She sighs loudly. “You sound just like my mother.” It made you laugh. “Well, maybe you should listen to her from time to time.” She didn’t laugh. 

“You know that I’ll never be that.” She picked at her fingers. “I’m never going to be that.” It was your turn to bite your tongue. “Clint and I just barely started making progress, real progress!” you flinched at the mention of the name. You sympathized with Kate she was your best friend how could you not? But sometimes that’s what it meant to be a good friend—keeping your friends from the wrong paths. All she was doing was denying her reality. “I get all of that but all you’ve really been doing is putting yourself in danger.” She huffed already knowing where you were going. “You’re going to get yourself killed in some obscure and tragic way! And I’ll never be able to get over it.” 

This wasn’t the first time you and Kate had this conversation and you can already see the irritation building in her. “Can’t you just be happy that I’m doing what I love? That I’d die doing what I love!” How she said it irked you, and her insinuation made that annoyance triple. She’d realized her mistake as soon as the words came out of her mouth and saw your features falter. “Do you even realize how that sounds? You sound like some privileged adrenaline junkie that has nothing better to do with their life.” As much as your words had stung Kate realized she’d pushed you over the edge and took the brunt of the jab. Taking a deep breath, she collected her thoughts. “Look I didn’t mean it, not…” You cut her off, a peeved expression still on your face. “Don’t bother we both know you meant what you said.” 

“I’m sure it’ll bring your mom so much comfort knowing you died, well at least she died doing what she loved!” You scoffed. You both knew loss you both knew grief, so it didn’t make sense how she could be so careless about her life! “Whatever, you should leave I’m not stopping you.” You left Kate fumbling for words. And moved to your designated seat the gala was barely getting started and you had many people to greet and talk to. You shook your head when you managed to catch Eleanor’s eye. You watch as she pursed her lips and nodded dismissively. She walked towards you pulling you into a quick hug. “Thank you for giving her a fight but, you don’t have to. I know it’s hard on you.” She said sympathetically. You nodded and gave her a small smile, Kate lingered in your mind for the rest of your night.

Days had passed and you hadn’t reached out to Kate. You wish it could be that easy, but when it came down to Kate it was always so hard to put down the the pride. She knew it as well as you did. Hence why she hadn’t done it either. Eleanor however had other plans it seemed she called late for a very early impromptu meeting. You agreed somewhat apprehensively. You were surprised when you didn’t see Kate in the waiting room the surprise didn’t last long. You were called into her office rather quickly. You watched as Eleanor stood from her desk ready to greet you. “Y/n, so happy you could make it!” You moved to greet her and returned the hug she offered. “Me too… uhm” you couldn’t hide the confusion. “I just thought Kate was going to be here. She nods smiling. “She did mention a disagreement… fight.” She corrected. “Unfortunately Kate is obsessed with that man and the Avengers.” You nodded. “I’ve tried Mrs.Bishop I just can’t dissuade her.” Another smile spreads on her face. 

“I know Y/n, you won’t have to worry about that much longer.” Her words confuse you, she can tell. “I only mean that everything will fall into place.” She rephrased. You nodded. “Well now on to why you’re here.” You nod. There’s a knock at the door. “Your ten o’clock is here would you like me to tell her to wait?” Eleanor shook her head. “Send her in.” You move to leave her office but her hand stops you in your tracks. “This is why I called.” A small oh leave your mouth and you sit back down. “Y/n this is Yelena, she’s the daughter of a board member she is in town for the holidays, and needs someone to show her around.” You smile and greet the girl. “I told them Kate would show her around but seeing as my daughter… well I thought who better than y/n.” You smile at her consideration. She turns to Yelena. “Y/n she’s like my second daughter. You couldn’t be in better hands.” Yelena smiles. “I can believe it.” Her subtle accent makes you smile. 

Eleanor moves back to her desk. “Well, girls I’ll let you go, have fun.” You smile and wave goodbye. Before you completely manage to walk out the door you hear her call out. “Y/n I’ll handle Kate, don’t hold it against her.” You falter at her words, but you still nod. As soon as you’re out you look at the girl next to you and smile. “So what would you like to see first?” She laughs. “That’s why I’m here, for you to show me around!” You laugh. “Okay, okay I know exactly where to take you.” She smiles and nods. “Please, lead the way.” 

It had been three days since, and Kate still hadn’t reached out and you weren't necessarily itching to do it. “I ordered pizza, hope you don’t mind.” Yelena interrupted your inner thoughts. You chuckled shaking your head. “It’s perfect I was getting hungry.” She smiled and plopped down next to you. You and Yelena had hit it off and had been inseparable the last couple of days. You were laughing at the TV when you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Yelena jumped to open the door exited the pizza had finally gotten there. It’s only when she doesn’t immediately close the door that you move to see what the hold-up was. “So you’re not the pizza delivery?” You hear Yelena’s confused voice. “What are you doing here Kate?” She shuffles a little before answering your question. “Well we didn’t really leave on good terms last time we saw each other, and I was coming to talk things out.” Then her eyes shift to Yelena in front of you. “But uhm… I can see that you’re busy, and we can talk about this later.” Her eyes are still on Yelena. Before you could even put the words together Yelena beat you to it. “Yes, that's probably for the best.” She said glancing back at you. “Here’s the money for the pizza thanks.” She took the pizza and walked into the apartment leaving you at the door. 

You can see the questions in Kate's eyes and you just shake your head. “We should talk soon, tomorrow?” Kate nodded and walked off. You closed the door softly and sighed. It was for the best that you didn’t talk to Kate right at that moment you didn’t even know what to say. You walked towards the kitchen and sat in front of Yelena at the table. “Now that was more interesting than everything you showed me.” She teased, and it made you laugh. “By far 10/10 would recommend it again, I mean the tension… off the charts!” You scoffed. “We went to all the places you wanted to see! I took you to all the stupid tourist places!” She laughed at that “I have to say you were an amazing tour guide.” She cheesed. “I’m guessing that’s Kate?” You nod taking a bite of your pizza, humming at the taste. “She doesn’t look like a walking death wish… I actually don’t know what I expected.” And just like that Yelena moved on. “Movies?” You smiled grateful for her tact. 

Kate's mind was reeling, who was that woman, and why did she look so comfortable in your apartment? She was too distracted by the idea that she failed to notice her mother waiting at her door. “Kate I’ve been waiting for you!” She said cheerfully. Her eyes sparkled. Kate tried to match her mother’s smile but failed. “I’m sorry I swung by y/n’s place like you said. You know to talk things over… She had company.” Her mother tapped her forehead. “I forgot I had y/n and Yelena meet up! I’m glad that they hit it off!” Kate was flabbergasted. “You set y/n up, why?” Her mother shook her head in denial. “I did not set her up! I just had a feeling that they would hit it off.” Kate could not believe the words coming from her mother’s mouth. Anger started to creep in. “And what feeling was that exactly?” Her mother paid no mind to her thinly veiled anger. “That they would get along y/n is a good girl and someone like Yelena would be good for her.” She reasoned. Kate swore she saw red. 

“So you did set her up!” Her tone was now raised and clipped. “Kate I didn’t tell her to sleep with the girl if that’s what you’re asking!” Kate felt a pang in her chest. “Now my question is why you’re so upset about it?” Kate scoffed. “Now that is something I’m very interested in.” She ignored Kate’s indignation. “I’m not!” She said defensively. “I just think it is odd that you are meddling in her love life.” It wasn’t just about that. Everything about you being with that woman felt wrong, fundamentally. “Well, it shouldn’t she is practically my daughter, one who by the way listens and actually uses my advice!” Kate scoffed. “We both know why that is.” Kate spat. She regretted the words as soon as she said them. She had a habit of not thinking things through. Her mother winced her eye twitching not giving in to the obvious provocation. “I know you, you will hurt her…” Kate’s eyes widened. Her throat suddenly dry she sputtered trying to find the words. “Y/n and I… we- we haven’t…” 

“No, you haven’t, and it should stay that way.” Kate was again left speechless. Her mother continued. “Y/n holds a very important position in our board of investors, I’d rather keep things clean and uncomplicated.” She punctuated. “To keep her on my side.” Her tone was clinical. Kate scoffed. “It is clear that she won’t make you choose. So I will.” Then suddenly the air was pulled out of her chest. “You’ll lose her either way! Do you truly believe y/n will stick around to watch you throw your life away!” Her mother spoke, Kate had never seen her mother like this. “You have no right to do this! This is my life!” Her mother shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong the moment you decided to put your life in danger, was the moment that as your mother I decided to step in! I have every right…” Kate was pacing at this point. Her fingers were on her temples. “So you’re making me choose?” Eleanor nodded. Kate scoffed calling her mother’s bluff. “You don’t have that kind of power, not over me not over y/n .” Her mother sighed. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Why don’t we find out?” With that, the older woman walked away from her. Her words left Kate cold. She shook the thought away you wouldn’t play into her mother’s hand, would you? 

The thought continued to eat at Kate the following days. It had been three days now that you had pushed your meet up. Three days that felt like weeks to her. Her mother was using you against her in the worst way possible. She knew, how she felt and still felt comfortable putting her in that position. She was not going to let it slide any longer. She was at your door again her fist raised to knock on your door. Only this time she didn’t have to, it opened before her hand could touch the wood. “Oh, Kate!” Your tone surprised. “Are- were you going somewhere?” Kate stuttered. “To find you actually…” you said a small smile playing on your lips. Kate’s heart fluttered in her chest, nodding as you let her walk in and get settled. “Can we talk?” Kate’s tone was soft but serious. You nodded softly. Kate sighed relieved. Just as she was about to speak you beat her to it. “I’m sorry.” Kate froze. What? “I’ve realized I can’t force you to stop doing things, even if I really want to I just can’t.” Your words were sincere. Kate was at a loss for words. She wasn’t going to mention it but she was ready to have it out with you again. She had prepared for it even, she was slightly disappointed about that. “Yelena pointed out to me that I was being a shitty friend, and she was right.” You just had to keep speaking… Just like that, she was annoyed again. “Who- who even is she?” Kate asked probing your response. “Uhm your mom didn’t tell you?” You questioned. Kate shook her head. “Your mom introduced us, she’s also going to be a part of the board.” 

It was only then that she reasoned her mother was not bluffing. This made too much sense. Having you and Yelena in her pocket would work out for her mother. She hated to say it but it was a smart move. Kate managed a small “cool” as she ruminated on the thought. “You two have gotten very close.” She wasn’t asking you realized. You nodded. “She’s a good person.” Kate almost scoffed. “One could argue I’m a better person! I could save the world one day.” She said smugly. “That’s if you don’t get yourself killed before then, sure.” The reply was waiting to come out she realized, and she grimaced. Kate backtracked. “How about a movie?” She reasoned and you couldn’t deny her, you did miss her. “I have time for one.” You said glancing at your watch. She smiled and got comfortable on your couch laying her head on your lap. She sighed all was right again. Truth be told Kate paid no mind to the movie once your fingers started running through her hair she knew there was no point in trying to keep up. Then you had to open your pretty mouth. “Kate I have to go.” The credits were now rolling on the screen. “Kate come on I really do… you can come with if you’d like?” She was eager to. “Where to?” She questioned. “Yelena wanted to volunteer at a soup kitchen… she saw it in a movie and wanted to do it.” 

There was a look of what you could only say was pure dissatisfaction. Your answer was not something she liked in the least bit. You’re both interrupted by Kate’s ringing phone. “Clint” you hear her mutter getting up from your lap and walking a short distance away. When she turns back your shoes are on and keys in your hand ready to leave. An expectant look on your face. “I- uhm duty calls.” She said uncertainly pointing to her phone. “Figured…” a displeased look on your face, which did not go unnoticed. Before she could address it you were halfway to the door. “Let yourself out, I’m going to be late! Lock up…” She could only watch as you did. You stopped suddenly at the now open door. “Be careful.” She couldn’t even reply you stepped out and closed the door behind you. You were gone again.

The following days were rough on Kate. Dealing with the ever-growing problem with Clint, fighting, and training. On top of that dealing with her mother, she was having a hard time compensating. Most grueling of all you were giving her the cold shoulder. Her mother had been directly working against her on that front, so she wasn’t too surprised. She however should’ve known her mother was willing to take it further. You were too nice to completely blow off Kate. So here you both were having family dinner with her mother. “You know y/n Yelena has spoken very highly of you, her father was very pleased to hear it!” You smiled softly your cheeks dusting a shade of pink. All of which didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s fun to hang out with, she gets me… shares my work ethic. She’s ambitious like few are these days.” Eleanor’s eyes shift to Kate a brow raised knowingly. “That is so good to hear y/n!”

The following words made Kate seethe internally cursing her mother. “You know y/n now that I think about it… Your parents met at around your age.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Mom…” Kate cut in. “I think you are right,” you said ignoring Kate’s interruption. Eleanor chuckles taking a small sip from her wine turning her attention back to her daughter. “They would make a cute couple, don’t you think Kate?” Her mother was not holding back, she was not willing to play into her hand. Still, she replied. “Y/n would make a cute couple with literally anyone… Put her next to the ugliest person on earth and she’d cancel out the ugly.” You chuckled at her thought. “Thanks, Kate.” Kate froze for a second you’d acknowledged her. She shook her head. “But Y/n barely knows this girl. She should take her time.” And somehow you were still smiling. “I am… taking my time.” Your eyes were far away. Perhaps your thoughts as well.

A/n: Surprise shawty!!! Happy New Year. This has been sitting in the drafts for a hot minute, please let me know If y’all liked and would like to see a second installment. First time really delving into Kate kinda rough ngl. I have another installment of remember a time, it’s done should be up next week. Abstract love is still in development you’ll get some more angst and of course cuteness ensues. As always have a great day and know you’re loved!

[caspiansinclair]

kandrew moments from the EC:

- "Kevin wanted Andrew's best like a dying man wanted one more breath of air, but Andrew refused to play along. The more Andrew dug his feet in, the harder Kevin pushed, and the harder Kevin pushed, the more Andrew resisted. Kevin didn't stop sniping, and Andrew didn't stop smiling, but Renee could feel the tension growing between them."

- "In one fierce move he wrenched Andrew's racquet out of his hand and threw it. It clattered hard against the ground and slid almost to the wall.

Renee was waiting on the half-court line to try and return any balls back to this half of the court, but at this new violence she started toward her teammates. She was still too far way to hear if Kevin said anything, but Kevin only made it a few steps from goal before Andrew went after him. Andrew used his body like a battering ram to knock Kevin down and stalked for the door before Kevin could get up again. Kevin cradled his cast to his stomach as he stumbled to his feet. He caught up with Andrew with a couple long strides and grabbed Andrew's shoulder to wrench him around.

"Get back in goal," Kevin snapped.

"Fuck off," Andrew said.

Dan shot Renee a quick, startled look as Renee stopped beside her. Renee didn't return it, too busy trying to make out Andrew's expression through his bulky helmet. She knew Andrew was on his drugs—Kevin's presence meant Andrew had to be more careful about when and how often he attempted to be sober. She'd never heard Andrew lose his cool while medicated, but there was violence in Andrew's jerky movements as he stripped his gloves off.

"We're not finished," Kevin said.

"We are finished for today," Andrew said, and pulled his helmet off next. He was smiling, but it was not at all nice. This was the smile of a crazed clown right before he opened fire on a laughing crowd. "If you touch me again I will rethink my decision to let you stay. Go away. Hear me? Go away. Go play with the rest of your toys. I'm not interested."

Kevin opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again soundlessly. He watched in frustrated silence as Andrew left the court. Andrew slammed the door behind him, and Renee could see him and Wymack arguing through the wall. Kevin snatched the ball from Matt and threw it at the court wall. His aim was off, but it smacked close enough to where Andrew's head was that Andrew got the hint. Andrew threw his helmet at the wall in response, and the thud of it echoed on the court. Kevin snarled something unintelligible and turned back on the Foxes."

- "Andrew stopped the next four shots, and then Kevin scored again. Renee saw a flash of teeth as Andrew smiled. It was more a sneer than anything else, there and gone again, but for a heartbeat it changed Andrew's entire expression. It wasn't until that night that Renee understood what she'd seen.

For one moment, for the first time all year, Andrew had looked—awake. Interested.

Andrew stopped the next four shots, and then Kevin scored again. Renee saw a flash of teeth as Andrew smiled. It was more a sneer than anything else, there and gone again, but for a heartbeat it changed Andrew's entire expression. It wasn't until that night that Renee understood what she'd seen.

For one moment, for the first time all year, Andrew had looked—awake. Interested."

- "Kevin slammed a hand into the lockers a breath from Andrew's face."

- Andrew gave up waiting for Kevin before Aaron did and turned away. He gave the combination lock on his locker a couple spins to open it and dropped the lock near his racquet. He had one hand on the latch to tug his locker open when Kevin spoke again.

"You're worth it."

It was barely a whisper, but Andrew went still.

Kevin only gave him a second to respond before pressing on. "You have so much potential I can taste it, but you're squandering it. You could be Court. You could be the greatest goalkeeper in the game. You could have everything, but you won't even try. You sabotage yourself at every turn instead. Watching you play like you don't care who wins makes me sick to my stomach."

- Kevin intercepted him and hooked a finger through the grating on Andrew's helmet. "You're still holding yourself back. Why won't you just show me what you're capable of?"

"Is it a hearing problem or a horizontal learning curve?" Andrew asked. "Refer back to the part where I don't care."

Kevin didn't fight when Andrew tugged his hand loose, but he did say, "Didn't you have fun?"

Andrew thought about it, then said, "No. Not even a bit."

- "Kevin, on the other hand, was too obsessed with Andrew and Neil to not notice how much time they spent looking for each other."

- "It started off with Kevin making sure Neil hadn’t sent Andrew on the court and Andrew reminding him that Neil doesn’t tell him what to do ((the lies, Andrew, the absolute lies)). When Kevin loses his temper with Andrew’s performance he chews him out, demanding to know why Andrew keeps holding back, why Andrew continues to sell himself short when they both know he can do better than this. Less “Stop wasting my time, you suck” and more “You’re choosing to waste our time by pretending you’re not as good as we both know you are.”

Kevin tells him that if he’s not out there on that court for himself then there’s no reason for him to be there–Kevin doesn’t need a babysitter after all this time, so Andrew can play for himself or he can get the fuck out of Kevin’s way. And Andrew, being the totally mature one of the two of them, reminds Kevin that Kevin doesn’t tell him what to do, either. But he stays, and that’s all that matters."

- "Q: Do Andrew & Kevin or Kevin & Neil stay friends after graduation, or do they only really interact on court?

A: They’re still friends, albeit long-distance ones. They don’t go out of their way to see each other, but if they’re nearby they’re likely to drop in for a drink or a bite. Neil and Kevin are more likely to text than call, but now and again Kevin will call Andrew. ((He knows Andrew will pick up))"

- Q: "I was wondering how the rest of the team reacted to the news about Drake and the twins? Did any of them try to reach out to Aaron or Andrew afterward, or go to Aaron's trial? How did Andrew feel (when he could process it) about everyone suddenly knowing about the horrible things that had happened to him?"

A: "((even Kevin was banned, because Andrew was supposed to be an anchor for Kevin, and how could Andrew be an anchor if he had been so thoroughly unmoored))"

- Q: kandreil headanons

A: "Unfortunately I don’t, because all the threesome headcanons are still canon in a way–the only critical difference is that Kevin has been surgically removed."

- Q: kandreil au where kevin dies

A: "where Neil was “the other woman” of their relationship, showing up when Andrew & Kevin couldn’t commit to each other but couldn’t let go of each other either."

"Kevin & Andrew had the hots for each other since the story transitioned from comic to book, and their obsession lasted up until the second to last draft. Andrew refused to commit or give ground to Kevin’s advances because 1) as far as he was concerned, he was just a stand-in for Riko, another psycho athlete to tell Kevin what to do and maybe fuck him on the side, 2) obviously the only thing Kevin really wanted from him was what he could do on the court, and 3) previous trauma made it difficult for him to imagine that anything healthy could come of the attraction. Kevin confronted Andrew at Eden’s Twilight once–he’d come to PSU to get away from Riko, choosing to hide behind Wymack, but Andrew was the first thing in his life that made him want more than what he’d always had. He knew Andrew was interested; he just couldn’t figure out why Andrew wouldn’t give an inch and let Kevin in. I know I’m right, so why are you fighting me, what are you so afraid of))"

"when Andrew had wanted Kevin for over a year but feared wanting anything after what he’d been through, when Neil fell for Kevin but belatedly realized he might be a stand-in for the person Kevin couldn’t have, when Andrew tried figuring out what Kevin saw in Neil and fell for Neil despite everything telling him stop stop stop bad idea — when Neil understood that they were all so broken that it was unfair to ask one person to be enough to put them back together again. When Neil confessed to Kevin I kissed him and Kevin was more exasperated than irritated because Neil got so easily what Andrew wouldn’t give Kevin.

It was a tangled mess back then—–winning Andrew over bit by agonizing bit, working around his efforts to not be caught alone with them, offering every olive branch they could think of and trying to prove themselves sincere, trying to prove this wasn’t about Exy, that Andrew wasn’t a substitute for Riko."

"They were all so obsessed with each other back then. They were nothing without each other, incomplete without the three of them."

[visionsofyouandme]

Uncertainty (drabble)

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: You wake from a nightmare and grapple with your feelings (in more ways than one). 

𝚠/𝚌: 700

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: F!Reader (or could also be gn!reader). Pretty reader-centric. Jackson!Joel. Nightmares. Angst. Reader struggles with feelings. Sweet Joel. Open ending.

𝙰/𝙽: Thanks to anon for this first lil request for Joel x Reader! I would have posted the actual ask, but there were some spoilers they wanted me to insert. But, this is for you, lovely lovely anon!!!! Thank you for your request <3 Hope you enjoy!

You awoke with a start, chest heaving, a sweat collecting on your chest, neck, forehead. 

No, it was just a dream. 

Thank God. 

But, you could still feel the shakes of nerves wracking your body. This one had felt so real, and it was the first time in a long time you had had one so vivid, so… horrible. You struggled to contain yourself, calm your breathing, not wanting to rouse Joel. 

Joel. 

He still lay next to you, one hand thrown above him on the pillow, the other crossed over his stomach, a soft snore coming from him. Your gaze softened, and felt a little jealous about how peaceful he looked. He had nightmares of his own, but they seemed to stop the further you two explored- well, whatever this was that was between you.

It started as just fucking. Fucking out of frustration. Sadness. Loneliness.

Yeah, loneliness was where you were at right now.

You slipped out of bed, the nightmare still eating at the back of your mind. You pulled on clothes that felt like they were sticking to your skin, but you needed air. The room felt stifling, and your eyes were wide, your body awake and rigid. Tip toeing out and to the porch, you settled gently on the bench and looked out, seeing dawn was breaking soon. The beautiful colors of orange and pink overtaking the inky blues of night made you feel melancholy. But, at the same time, you tried to give yourself hope. If the world could overtake something as terrible as the night, you could overcome this. 

You thought of Joel again. You were growing attached, and you knew this. Knew it for a long time. But, the fucking became a little more than that. Lingering glances, brief touches, knowing smiles, shared laughter (on your part, Joel would breathe hard through his nose and you took it as a laugh). Things were beginning to be different. Another wave of fear came over you, this one making the sweat on your body become cold. 

You didn’t know Joel's thoughts on this whole situation. How could you? You weren’t in his head. But you wished and wished you could be. Get some answers that you had been craving. Could this really be something more? Or were you just delusional?

The creak of wood on the porch stirred you from your thoughts, and you whipped your head to the side to see Joel standing by the doorway, clothed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. You locked eyes, and just gazed at each other. That familiar feeling of safety came over you, and he nodded for you to come inside. You hesitated, looking out at the sky, but then relented and followed him in. 

He led you back to the bedroom, and you wondered if he just came to retrieve you out of necessity. He settled on the bed, and you stood with uncertainty. He looked up at you, and you saw a softness in his eyes that floored you for a moment. Giving you another wordless command to come to bed, you crawled in next to him, settling on your side of the bed until he pulled you into his side. You immediately relaxed in his touch, laying your head on his chest, his heartbeat reminding you this was real. You were safe. You were with Joel.

The one you love.

“Wanna talk about it?” he murmured, his nose nudging your head gently. You shook your head gently, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Okay.” he whispered, and you felt him settle back into bed. You waited a moment before responding-

“One day, I will.” 

Joel hummed in response, and you felt like this was a start to something a bit bigger than what was before. You breathed out deeply, feeling your chest deflate with relief for the first time that night. You let Joel’s steady breathing lull you to sleep, and you laid a hand on his chest to pull yourself even closer to him. He raised a hand to put over yours, and you felt the lightest of kisses on the crown of your head.

Yes, this was a start. 

Thank you for reading!

[swappingbryn]

Fitness Influencer Flop

Ray had dreamed of being a fitness influencer for years. He had built his body and learned all the tricks, and even though he wasn’t ugly, he didn’t have the face to build an audience. After three years and hundreds of videos, he barely had 1,000 followers.

He had done everything right, listened to all the gurus and self help people and nothing worked. So he decided to try something a little less…reputable. He summoned a demon and made a deal. He was offered two choices, the easy way or the hard way.

If he wanted, the demon could snap his fingers and Ray would wake up in the morning and have a huge, devoted following, but the demon stressed, there would be a heavier toll to pay.

Or if Ray was serious about building a following, the demon would work his magic (pun intended) in more subtle ways, manipulating the algorithms, redirecting searches, and Ray would build a platform gradually, but there would be a lower tax imposed as he was doing a greater share of the work.

Ray was tired of waiting, he’d spent years working hard, putting in the effort, and he wanted to get his prize, so he choose option 1. The demon said “do be it,” snapped his fingers and Ray passed out.

Ray awoke the next day to his alarm going off, 5:30am. He looked around and nothing seemed to have changed. He looked at his phone and saw his TikTok had changed dramatically.

He now had over half a million followers.

However, he noticed his videos were different too. No longer focused on fitness, all his videos were dancing or joking videos.

He attempted to summon the demon again but go nothing. It wasn’t until a month later that the demon returned. “Hello Ray, I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon. When I felt your call the next day I ignored it, wanting to give you some time to explore your new life.” “What did you do to me? My muscles are gone, my videos are gone, and no matter what I do at the gym, nothing works” Ray replied. “My dear boy, this is what you wanted. You got your huge following without having to work for it. This is the same treatment that every wanna be influencer experiences, whether it’s a day, week, year or decade after they start. You just happened to have tried first and spent years doing it right. In fact, if you had chosen option 2, with your skills and dedication, you would have achieved equal or greater success within 2 years.” “Then let me do that instead. I’ll work hard and do it naturally,” Ray yelled. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. You’ve made your deal and I lived up to my end of the bargain.” And the demon vanished leaving a brief smoke and an echo of a laugh.

[burningembers91]

Pictures of You - Choi Woo-Seok x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

The Debt Collector

Synopsis: Choi Woo-Seok sets out to show you just how beautiful you really are

A/N: Thank you for all the love on the first fic! I'm so glad so many of you think his character is underrated! I absolutely love him!

Choi Woo-Seok loved taking photographs. He loved the fact that a camera could capture a memory, immortalising the moment for all time. On his days off, he carried his camera everywhere with him, taking photos of anything he found interesting. He took photos of the sky, the trees, cute dogs, a really nice dinner. He scrapbooked the memories he captured, although he kept that part from his friends and colleagues; he was under no illusion that scrapbooking was in any way manly. He enjoyed flipping back through the pages and reminiscing on particular days.

He'd started taking the camera out on the walks he took with you, teaching you how to use it. He was desperate to take a photo of you, to capture your beauty forever in a single shot. You were so camera shy though, laughing and turning your face away whenever he pointed the lens in your direction. “Don’t take a photo of me, please,” you’d laugh, “I look awful today.” Woo-Seok was almost certain you’d never looked awful. You were always so beautiful, no matter whether you had a full face of makeup and a dress on or whether you were in leggings and a baggy t-shirt, with yesterday’s mascara smudged under your eyes. He could never persuade you though, was never able to convince you that you were, in fact, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

So, Woo-Seok scrapbooked the photo’s you’d taken, keeping your shots as his memories of you. You’d come a long way since he’d met you six months ago; you were smiling a little more and starting to come out of your shell. But there was still a part of you that was scared to fully let go, a part that couldn’t quite bring yourself to believe you were worthy of the love Woo-Seok so desperately wanted to give you. Your ex hadn’t just gambled your money away; he’d made you feel worthless as well. But Woo-Seok wasn’t ready to give up on you and he wouldn’t let you give up on yourself either.

It was a hot summer’s day, the sun high in the sky as he unfurled the picnic blanket on the grass. You joined the throngs of couples, families and friends who had decided to make the most of the perfect weather, unpacking your picnic lunch as Woo-Seok popped a bottle of fizz. He had the unique ability to always make you feel special, to give you the absolute world but make it seem so effortless. Nothing was too much for him, no task or gift too big. He always brought you your favourite coffee, your favourite magazine, or your favourite chocolate bar whenever he saw you. If he saw something he thought you might like, he’d pick it up and bring it over for you. Your friendship meant the world to him, but he never stopped wishing it could be something more.

You looked especially beautiful today, dressed in a blue midi dress, the lightweight fabric cascading down your body, hugging you in all the right places. You were laughing as you took a sip of your drink, telling him about something funny that had happened at work. He really was trying to pay attention to what you were saying, but he found it so hard to not get lost in your eyes. You looked almost ethereal today, and Woo-Seok couldn’t resist, he needed to capture your beauty.

“Please let me take a photo of you,” he smiled, “just one photo.” You rolled your eyes, sighing. “It really won’t look good,” you said, fiddling with the cotton fabric of your dress. The stress of the last few years had taken its toll, and the last time you had a photo taken, all you’d seen was a woman aged beyond her years with bags under her eyes. It had been a sobering image, and you hadn’t wanted a photo taken since. “I promise, if you don’t like it, I’ll delete it straight away. Please,” he was practically begging, “you look so pretty today, and the background is amazing.” He wasn’t lying; you did look stunning, and the backdrop of the park was perfect. “Ok, fine.” You couldn’t help but smile. This man was so kind and sweet, so loveable and funny. You supposed one picture couldn’t hurt.

You were stretched out on the picnic blanket, your head tilted slightly to the side with one hand resting lightly on your outer thigh. You were about to adjust your position, but Woo-Seok stopped you. “Don’t move,” he told you, “That’s a perfect picture.” He aimed the camera at you, clicking the button to take the photo. He was sure it was the greatest photo he’d ever taken; you looked nothing short of perfection. He just hoped you felt the same because it would break his heart if he had to delete it. “See?” he said, handing you the camera, “see how pretty you look.”

You couldn’t believe the woman staring back was you. Your skin was glowing, your eyes were bright and the dress you wore looked incredible. You had colour back in your cheeks, your smile looked so carefree and you looked so at peace. You looked how you used to, before the stress and money problems had taken over your life. “I look… I look really beautiful,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. “What did I tell you?” Woo-Seok smiled, “it’s a great photo.” He laid down next to you, pointing the lens towards the both of you. “Here, let’s take a selfie,”

Your head pressed together, Woo-Seok could smell your perfume as he snapped the photo, the two of you smiling wide. He showed you the picture, laughing at your shocked expression. “I just didn’t think I looked like that,” you admitted as you tucked into your lunch. “What did you think you looked like?” he asked, “an ogre?” You threw a piece of lettuce at him playfully. “No,” you smiled, “I just thought I looked… tired. Like, tired of life if that makes sense?” He nodded; he knew what you meant, and he knew that the last few years had tested you. But you’d come out the other side so much stronger for it.

You stayed in the park, laughing and talking until the sun began to set. Woo-Seok took full advantage of golden hour, taking dozens of photos of you, desperate to show you that you really were beautiful. That night, he printed out his favourite pictures of you, putting them into a frame for you to keep. He’d added your selfie to his scrapbook, along with the first photo he’d taken of you. Your beauty had been captured in a way that no poet would ever be able to describe, that no artist would ever be able to recreate on a canvas. He wished he was better with words, wished he was able to begin to explain how you made him feel.

He headed to your apartment the next day, your framed photos tucked under his arm. You greeted him at the door, your smile wide as he handed you the photos. He stayed for a coffee, and as he turned to leave you called after him. “Do you want to have dinner tonight?” you asked. “Like… as in a date?” “Really?” Woo-Seok hadn’t asked you out since you rejected him the first time. He’d been sure you’d only seen this as a friendship, was so sure you saw him like most people did, as a bumbling fool. “Yes. Pick me up at 8?” “8! Yes! 8! I’ll see you then!” He headed off down the road, not realising you were watching as he fist bumped the air with glee.

You’d spent the entire evening wondering why you’d changed so much, how you’d manage to go from looking so haggard to so carefree. And then it hit you. The one thing that had changed in your life between the two pictures was Woo-Seok. He’d brought the fun and laughter back to your life, had given you a reason to smile again. Yes, your ex had broken you, but you didn’t have to stay broken. You’d been so sure you’d fall apart without him, but you’d been wrong; you’d only grown stronger. Woo-Seok had helped build you back up, and you’d been a fool to not realise that happiness was staring right in your face.

You placed the photos he’d taken of you pride of place on your mantle, then went to get ready. You hoped he’d bring his camera tonight; you couldn’t wait to make new memories with the man who’d brought your smile back, and you wanted to make sure you captured each one.