#knowing what’s to come just fucking broke me

[rafecameronssl4t]

Thinkin’ bout me || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @chenslucy

Summary: inspired by the lyrics of “thinkin’ bout me” Morgan Wallen 🤗🤗

Warnings: slight angst ig

Word count: 1,964

A/n: I rlly wanna do one with a Zach Bryan song but the ideas aren’t coming to me 😔

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Don't know where you at, don't know where you've been. Don't know nothin' 'bout that boy you're into.

It had been two months since you’d left, pulling yourself out of Rafe’s orbit so completely that he’d almost started to believe you’d vanished for good. Then tonight, here you were, mingling at the yacht party like nothing had happened.

Only now, an unfamiliar blonde had his arm wrapped casually around your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your hip as you leaned in close to hear him over the music, a bright, carefree smile lighting up your face. Rafe’s stomach twisted at the sight.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could see the way you laughed at something the guy said, your head tipping back as if his words were the funniest thing you’d heard all night. The version of you he saw now felt almost foreign to him—like he’d been replaced by someone who wasn’t weighed down by your shared past.

Maybe you really were happier, but seeing you with someone else so soon cut deeper than he’d anticipated. It was the smile that got to him the most—the one he remembered as his—now aimed at someone else.

Don't feel bad for you, but I feel bad for him. And all the hell you gon' be puttin' him through. Probably tell him we're a burnt out flame. Probably tell him that I ain't been on your mind. How I ain't nothin' but a long gone thing. You can cuss my name, but baby, don't you lie

The unfamiliar blonde looked wildly out of place in the gleaming luxury of the yacht party, as though he’d just wandered into the wrong scene altogether. He had a wholesome air about him that felt like it belonged more to a Kildare bonfire than this slick, exclusive gathering. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy, wondering what you could possibly see in someone so blatantly average.

“Who are you staring at?” Topper’s voice broke into his thoughts, a teasing chuckle in his tone as he followed Rafe’s gaze. He spotted you almost immediately, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “Oh. She looks good—”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t wanna hear it,” Rafe muttered, not breaking his stare. He didn’t need anyone telling him how good you looked; he already knew. Topper just threw his hands up, backing off with a smirk. Before Topper could throw in another comment, you shifted, turning around just enough to spot him.

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, catching the way you froze for a split second and in that instant, he saw the flicker of nerves in your expression. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, watching the way you subtly fidgeted under his stare. He could practically see the wheels turning in your mind as you quickly turned back to the guy beside you.

The blonde followed your gaze, catching sight of Rafe and Topper watching. His expression tightened just slightly, his eyes darting back to Rafe every few seconds, clearly trying to size him up. Rafe’s smirk widened; he knew exactly what was going through the guy’s mind. You were probably telling him some watered-down version of what you and Rafe had been—a burnt-out flame, a chapter you’d left behind.

Maybe you were painting Rafe as the villain, the one you’d gotten over, glossing over the parts that didn’t fit. Even cussing him out just to make it seem like you’d moved on. But he saw right through it. He knew the kind of hell you’d probably put this guy through, the stories you’d tell him, the ways you’d pretend you’d forgotten.

He’d been in your life long enough to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for this poor bastard. He didn’t feel bad for you—not anymore. But for the guy who thought he’d won you over? Rafe almost pitied him. He had no idea the hell you’d eventually put him through, just like you’d put Rafe through.

When you're tastin' what he's drinkin', are you thinkin' 'bout me? When you're ridin' where he's drivin', are you missin' my street?

Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, the smirk slipping into something colder as he watched you lean closer to the blonde, your laughter ringing out over the music. But he saw right through it. He knew you well enough to pick up on the tiny tells—the way you glanced over your shoulder just slightly, probably checking if he was still watching.

You were putting on a show, and he knew it. He could almost picture it: you, lifting a drink to your lips, tasting the same burn of bourbon he used to pour you, and wondering if it would ever hit the same. Or maybe it was later, on some midnight drive as the blonde took you back home, the car turning down familiar roads but never quite the right ones. He could almost feel that ache settling in you when his road, the one leading up to Tannyhill, passed by without a pause.

You might be so close, just one turn away, and yet still missing that feeling of belonging you’d only ever felt pulling into his place, the street you’d once called home. He could feel Topper glancing his way, but he didn’t care, didn’t let up. He wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, that he was watching you, and that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t just erase him. Not from those old habits, not from those half-forgotten memories that clung to you like shadows.

And even as you turned back to the blonde, pretending you didn’t care, he could tell. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that same hollow ache—the same one he was feeling right now—whenever you tasted what he was drinking or found yourself driving down a street that just didn’t feel the same.

Every time you close your eyes, tell me, who do you see. Comin' over tonight, wish that truck in your drive was mine. Just like you know it's supposed to be

Every time you closed your eyes, he wondered if it was his face you still saw, if memories of him filled those moments you tried to shut out. He imagined you lying awake, maybe with that blonde by your side, but when you let your guard down, it wasn’t him you’d see. It was Rafe, pulling up to your place, the sound of his truck rumbling in the driveway as he walked up to your door, familiar and steady as if he’d never left.

He could picture it so clearly—his truck parked outside, headlights washing over your front porch, the way he’d make himself at home in your space without a second thought. Rafe knew you could pretend all you wanted, but when you closed your eyes, he’d be there, waiting in those memories you could never quite shake. And somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that pang of regret every time you wished that truck in your drive was his.

When you're up in his bed, am I up in your head? Making you crazy, tell me, baby, are you thinkin' 'bout me?

He couldn’t help but wonder if, in those quiet hours of the night, when you were lying beside him, it was his name that slipped into your mind uninvited. When you were up in that guy’s bed, was it him who filled your thoughts instead—if the memory of his hands, his voice, his presence stayed just beneath the surface, making it impossible to forget. He wanted to know if he’d left a mark, lingering even now, pushing you to the edge of madness as you tried to convince yourself you’d moved on.

Rafe moved in quietly, blending into the crowd, making his way closer as he watched the blonde step away, leaving you alone for the first time all night. He didn’t hesitate, just closed the distance, eyes fixed on you with that knowing look you’d tried to ignore. Reaching for a glass, he pretended to pour himself a drink, but his attention was fully on you, his voice low and taunting.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, “are you thinkin’ ’bout me?” The words hung in the air between you, his gaze steady, daring you to look away. He didn’t need to say anything else. The challenge was in his eyes, his tone, the slight smirk playing at his lips as he watched your reaction. He knew he was under your skin, that no matter how hard you tried, memories of him had a way of creeping back. And now, standing close enough to feel the tension humming between you, he was waiting, pushing just enough to make you wonder if he’d ever really left your thoughts.

You swallowed, eyes narrowing as you tried to brush off the effect he still had on you. But the heat of his presence was unmistakable, almost magnetic, pulling you into that familiar territory you’d been trying so hard to avoid. His eyes searched yours, unreadable, but you caught the flicker of something darker beneath the surface—a mixture of anger, curiosity, maybe even the smallest hint of longing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the way your pulse quickened. But Rafe’s smirk only grew, as if he could see right through your act. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Sure, keep tellin’ yourself that.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in as he stared at you side profile before chuckling to himself.

“But we both know who’s really on your mind tonight.” You felt a shiver roll down your spine, his proximity making it impossible to ignore the pull between you, the way his presence filled every corner of your mind despite the months apart. He lingered there, eyes never leaving yours, daring you to deny it, to keep pretending he was just a part of your past.

“You look good,” he added, voice soft, with just the slightest edge. “But maybe that’s ’cause I remember how you used to look at me.” The words hit harder than you’d like, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left no room for anything else. You wanted to come up with something quick, something sharp to throw back at him. But for a second, you just stood there, caught in the moment, feeling the weight of every memory between you—the late nights, the laughter, the arguments, the way he’d looked at you like no one else ever had.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her

alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, migraine

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as it’s sent. 

Do you have any painkillers I could use?

You feel guilty for commandeering Sirius’ bedroom like this. You’re supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries you’d asked meekly if he’d mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so it’ll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know you’d feel better back at your own place, but you don’t trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead you’re spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now you’re asking him to wait on you, too. 

Sirius doesn’t respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open. 

“Just a nap, huh?” he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. “Does something hurt, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water he’s brought you. “Sorry. My head.” 

“I thought something might be wrong,” he admits, keeping his voice low. “You got awfully quiet earlier. Why didn’t you say?”

You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin our night.” 

Sirius tuts softly. “Don’t worry about that.” His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. “It’s quite bad?” 

You make a low humming sound. “It’s a migraine. I get them, sometimes.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully it’ll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I don’t think I can make it there right now.” 

“What sort of things?” 

You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom it’s not with food. 

You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon you’re aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing. 

“Did you get that from my place?” 

Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. “Fuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didn’t want to ask you to give me your key.” 

You look at the essential oil diffuser. “Huh. Looks just like mine.” 

“Well, good. Hopefully it’ll work just as well, then.” Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. “Do you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?” 

“M’not falling asleep anyway,” you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. “Tell me you didn’t go buy a diffuser?”

Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. “Not sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?”

“Sirius.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “You didn’t have to. That’s so sweet.” 

“Oh.” He brightens. “Good then. There’s a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought I’d give it a minute to chill first.” 

You’re starting to feel slightly teary, which isn’t really what you want during a migraine. “That’s really kind of you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?” He smiles softly, looking like he’s going to reach for your face again before he stops himself. 

“You can touch me,” you say quietly. 

Sirius’ brows twitch together. “Yeah? Are you sure?” 

“Mhm. I feel a bit better than before.” 

“Could I kiss you as well?” 

You can’t stop your lips from curving, just a little. “Yeah.” 

Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesn’t stop there. “Better than before doesn’t seem quite well enough,” he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, “but we’ll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.” 

“Yeah?” you ask on a breath. “I’ve never tried that.” 

“Do you wanna?”

You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. It’s not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Sirius’ touch bleeds affection into your skin. 

“Thank you for doing this,” you mumble, words slurred with relaxation. 

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” he hums back. “I told you, I have the world’s loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?”

You’re too enamored to even scoff.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Mean! Jason Todd

Mean! Jason Todd who dated one of your old friends from highschool a few years ago before it fell through. Whenever you and your friends would meet up, he always had something to say about you.

"Jeez, thought we were going to the lounge, not a strip club."

Mean! Jason Todd who absolutely shattered your best friend's heart when they broke up. You were left to pick up the pieces as he did god knows what.

"Not my fault your little group is filled with whores. She just had to go and get another guy's dick wet." (You found out later that she had, in fact, cheated on Jason.)

Mean! Jason Todd who contacts you out of the blue after months of him being blocked on your phone because he wouldn't stop calling the rest of your friends cruel names.

"Hey, sorry to bother u. Just need a pick me up rn. U busy?"

Mean! Jason Todd coming over for a couple of drinks because he didn't want to be alone and really did care about your friend.

"I just... I thought it mattered. At least a little. And the only thing that sucks ass is that I know it would've happened whether I was a better person or not."

Mean! Jason Todd who gets a lot more bold while tipsy and takes your joke about '[his] dick probably not being the issue," and how he could get "any girl [he] wanted looking like that," a little too seriously.

"God, just tell me you're trying to get into my pants, already. What would your little friend think, hm?"

Of course, it was just a tease.

But you didn't care what your friends thought.

Mean! Jason Todd who you don't even know how you ended up underneath, his hands greedily grasping at your flesh as he pounds you from behind.

"Look at how well you take me..." A soft groan. "Almost like you've been waiting for this. This what you wanted? To get cockdrunk from your best friend's ex?"

Mean! Jason Todd who absolutely pounds you and is so mean about how much you whine and beg, even though he's to blame.

"All those pretty noises just for me? Fucking pathetic... Must've been so desperate for this cock and waiting for it. You wanted my cock that fucking badly?"

Mean! Jason Todd who thinks you have eyes too big for your holes. Sure, you guessed he would be big, based on what your friend told you when they were together but he was huge.

"Look at that... See how good you're stretching out for me? Must've just been made for this cock... Thats right. All youre good for is taking my cock so well."

Mean! Jason Todd who's gone before you wake up in the morning, but leaves an advil and cup of water on your nightstand.

"Got a new number. Call me when you need another drink."

The note he left next to your cup of water.

[no-144444]

alright- o.bearman

summary: ollie wasn't exactly ecstatic after brazil... you change that/

pairing: ollie bearman x fem! reader

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You watched as Ollie left the car, looking dejected and overwhelmed. 

“You did good,” you whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, melting into you. 

“I did-”

“Well. You did well, Ollie. You had no notice, no planning, no training, nothing. You went third fastest in free practice. The only free practice-”

“But Franco-” 

“Franco sent it into the barriers in quali and the race. Were you unlucky with how the weekend ended up? Yeah, but at least you kept it out of the barriers. You are a good driver Ollie, a great driver. You deserve to be here. Your teammate got disqualified, you spun 3 times, and you still kept going. And then you finished p12, right behind Perez, who’s been in the sport for 13 years. You have more points than Bottas, Zhou, Liam, and Franco. You’re fucking amazing Ollie. Don’t try to tell me that you’re not,” you told him, your voice stern, but loving. You had a hand on his cheek, and softly pressed your lips to his. “Alright?”

He nodded, seeming a little bit less upset. “Alright.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He went through the interviews, he went through the debriefs, he posed for all the pictures. He did it all. All of his duties were fulfilled, and by the time he got back to you, he was exhausted. You thanked for past-self for changing your flights to the next day. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you. He was showered, changed, and exhausted, so you just let him lean on you. 

“Ready to head back?” you asked.

“I don’t want to deal with the airport right now-”

“I changed our flights to tomorrow,” you explained. He stared at you for a moment, then a smile broke out on his lips. 

“You always know what I need,” he chuckled. “You really are the best girlfriend ever.”

You laughed. “Probably not, but I thank you anyway.”

He leant down, catching your lips with his, not really caring whether there was a camera on the two of you. He squeezed your waist as you kissed him back softly, and he involuntarily sighed when you pulled away. 

“Come on Ollie, let’s get you some rest, yeah?” you offered your hand, and he took it happily. 

Maybe the race was awful, but you were still there. Your love would never be in question over a race result, and he adored you for that. You celebrated every win just the same, every loss just the same, and every day just the same. He loved you for that.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[alchemistc]

Tommy had a younger sister. Eight years apart, Tommy knows intimately what it's like to be the main caretaker to a little girl with a dead mom and a shitty dad.

He'll give the Buckley parents props for at least trying, later on down the line. He hasn't spoken to his dad in years. But he sees the look Maddie gets sometimes, the quiet little corner she retreats to when the Saturday Night title fight is Evan v Margaret and Phillip, and he knows that space, the cavernous echo: could I have done more? and this was never supposed to be my job and will I make this worse or better if I intervene? what raw nerves will I expose if I cut open my wrists to fertilize this soil?

They were good at hiding it, for a while. Evan on his okayest behavior, Margaret and Phillip refusing to rise to any bait like the polite suburban family they were - the kind that would move their grieving child across state lines and force her to keep a secret for decades so that she could never move on from it.

(He's been angry for Evan for years, now, but he's been angry for Maddie too, for himself, for the fucked up things you can never quite prepare for the people that gave you life do to you.)

He had a sister.

And she was bright, and beautiful, and full of laughter and love even when Dad couldn't be fucked to sign her permission slips (Tommy can still forge his father's signature, has it down more precisely than even his own) or buy her a new pair of shoes when the soles broke free and they pinched her toes in tight.

He had a sister. She'd been pissed at him, ten years old and landing brutal kicks to his shins the day before he left for training. She'd been pissed at him, sixteen and quietly sullen over the phone when he told her he was staying in LA. She'd been pissed at him, twenty-two and rudderless while he let her crash on his couch for six months in the shoe-box loft he'd called home.

And she'd loved him. God, she'd loved him. Idolized him: learned football and baseball just to be able to talk to him about the few interests he'd had that his father hadn't dismissed out of hand; always at his hip when he slapped together Kraft Mac and Cheese for dinner and snuck her lunch money at the end of the week when the groceries had dwindled.

He hasn't talked to his sister in years, either.

Maddie tucks herself into the space to his right, glances out over the lawn where Tommy has been sneaking the third cigarette he's allowed himself in the last ten years. She shifts her weight, watches the cherry bloom in the low dusk light. "You gonna share?"

Tommy tips his head to look at her. Digs into his chest pocket for the Reds he'd bought two days before the Buckley parents descended on LA for the wedding.

Maddie's an old pro, apparently, fingers comfortably slack as she lifts the offering to her mouth, glances at him for a light.

The lighter is ancient, still has a snippet of his grandfather's favorite poem etched into the sidewall, though it's worn down and hard to read. The metallic clink of opening and closing the lid, spark igniting on butane with a flick of his thumb, had gotten him through some of his worst nights in Afghanistan. Maddie sucks against the filter and the flame catches thin paper and packed tobacco.

She grimaces at the taste, but pulls, waits, blows smoke out her nose.

"You'd think the Buckley Bowl would calm down after the twentieth rematch," she remarks. She's white-knuckling the railing with her free hand.

"Your dad's gonna come out here in ten minutes wanting to shoot the shit about the Pirates July slump like he didn't accidentally imply he'd have preferred me for a son at brunch yesterday."

Maddie sighs. "They're not always like this. I - You've seen them. I just think. I think my first wedding was a brawl and my second didn't happen as planned and Buck hasn't given them any leeway to throw around their opinions and..."

"You don't have to defend them, you know," Tommy says, and - he's not as close with Maddie as he'd like, but they've talked about it, a little. How lucky she is that Evan hadn't ever lost faith in her, how lucky Evan is to have always had her in his corner. How unfair it had all been. "Not to me."

Maddie's lashes are wet, the corners of her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't do this. Every time, they do this."

"Well, the wedding does come with a devilishly handsome new ally against them," he reminds her, and her laugh is a little soggy, but her eyes sparkle as she takes him in. She takes a drag, does a piss poor job of trying to blow smoke rings. Her hand is tiny when it drifts over his forearm and squeezes.

"Well, soldier, I think we're the cavalry."

Tommy butts out his cigarette into the solo cup he'd set out next to the Adirondacks, an hour after he'd bought the pack, holds it out for Maddie to do the same. Her smile is still a little wet, but it's just as lovely as her. Tommy makes a note to hug her extra hard before she leaves at the end of the night.

"Once more unto the breach," Tommy quotes, and slides the patio door open to let her take point.

[soleilchanson]

Ex bf Price who was your first and knows everything about your body sees you with your new boyfriend for the first time and can’t help but get jealous MDNI

Note: female reader

NSFW content - mentions of sex and sexual experiences. No direct smut

Masterlist

Price hated weddings. The unnecessary crying, large centerpieces, fancy food that tasted like nothing but cream and butter, and dancing. He hated all of it.

However, if you asked him about his opinions on weddings five months ago, he would’ve gone on and on about how he loves weddings.

Why the change of opinion? Because you broke up with him. He had been with a lot of women before but only you had managed to create large tremors in his heart and mind.

He didn’t show it but he was a complete mess after breaking up. Had a sour attitude, picked a fight with anyone within a six foot radius, and drank like a sailor. It only took him five months to finally stop associating your favorite things with you. Five months of pure torture is what the 141 called it.

The five months where hell ascended to the surface.

And now the squad was afraid it would happen again. After the break up, you happened to get very friendly with Kyle. The two of you kept close contact throughout so he naturally invited you to his wedding. What he wasn’t expecting was for your current boyfriend to be in the army as well. Just not as well known.

Price was going to lose his mind.

“I’m a grown man. Quit tryin’ to distract me. I know she’s here with someone.” The commander scoffed as Simon and Soap tried their best to hide you and your boyfriend from his view.

Of course, he knew you were with someone. He had eyes and ears everywhere including your current boyfriend’s team. He knew the bugger had quite the history with women and specifically went after you because you had little experience. Lucky for the captain, your boyfriend didn’t know that he was your ex.

Price couldn’t peel his eyes away from you from the beginning of the ceremony till dinner time. You look ravishing in your outfit. He remembered how you would always ask him to zip your dresses up and you both would end up arriving late to events because he would do the opposite.

He noticed how you wore the earrings he got you, giving him hope that somewhere in your heart you still wanted to be with him.

After the ceremony, the women gathered in their own separate area, sitting with the bride and asking her about the wedding and taking a few candid photos. The men had mostly dispersed to the bar or outside the wedding hall for a smoke break. The entirety of the 141 squad left with Kyle for a smoke, probably to enjoy his last few moments before he left for his honeymoon. But Price didn’t like corny goodbyes so he stayed behind.

He sipped his whiskey, reminiscing about his own dreams of getting married until he heard boisterous laughing coming from a group approaching his side of the bar.

It was your ex. Price knew his name but preferred to call him Dick when he thought of him. He chose his last name as Head. He could overhear Dick talk about his new girlfriend and Price immediately directed all his attention towards them. Discreetly of course. He was still facing the bartender so it seemed like he was uninterested.

“I’m telling you, mate, she is so easy to please. All I need to do fuck her and she comes. It’s fucking insane.” Dick bragged as he took a swig of his beer. Price had a small smile on his face. He knew some lousy fucking could never get you off.

“I know you didn’t come last night. Don’t lie to me.” Price said as he cuddled with you on your shared bed. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you.” You sheepishly replied. “Next time you don’t feel satisfied, I want you to tell me.” He pulled away and straddled you. “Now let me make it up to you the right way, yeah?” He said as he lifted your tank top and began kissing down your abdomen.

“She doesn’t even beg me to do anything. I can do whatever I want. It’s heaven.” Price wanted to laugh out loud. You? Not saying what you wanted? Sounds like Dick was sleeping with a total stranger.

“John, please, I need you in me. I can’t take any more of this teasing.” You groaned against his neck. Price chose to ignore you and kept rubbing his fingers around your entrance. “Come on, darling, you can be a little patient.” You huffed in anger and rolled on top of him. “Either you fuck me like I asked or I’ll ride you so hard you’ll forget your name.” You snapped. Price smiled knowing that neither of you were going to wake up early the next day.

“She also hates all that aftercare shit which is good because I’m fucking beat after all that work.” This guys was a ball of grease. Price wondered how you met him but chose to find out the answer later.

You were laying on Price’s chest after a particularly rough session. His hand played with your hair as your eyelids grew heavy. You had this habit of going non verbal after sex so you could recover your mental energy as well. Price understood and respected that so he’d hold you as you regained your strength. It was your own little heaven with him. Sometimes he’d bring you warm tea and snacks to rejuvenate, other times he’d lightly massage your shoulders as you’d sleep on top of him.

It was confirmed- you did not give a fuck about Dick and he was a rebound. Price laughed loudly and all the men in the group beside him turned. He got off the bar stool and walked to Dick. He placed his hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder and held it with a firm grip.

“Hope you get the message.” He said before sarcastically chuckling and walking away.

“The fuck is he on about?” He heard Dick murmur while he headed to where you were sitting with the women.

You seem surprised to see him but walked to a corner away from the wedding hall.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close enough to smell the whiskey in his breath. “I believe you and I need to have a conversation.”

-•-

Didn’t like Price’s character when I first learned about him and look at me now. Maybe I’ll write a part 2, idk I like surprising people.

[reds-skull]

CW FLASHING IN THE VIDEO (3rd from the bottom)

This is it. 3 months in the works, the comic (and video) are finally done.

A little over a year ago, I uploaded the first work in Revenant AU, Ghost's origin comic. I never thought I'd write a whole series for this, but I'm so glad I did. I got a whole new hobby out of it, haha.

I already began working on part 2, but this for me marks the start of it. I'm really excited to get back into this world!

Under the cut there are some comments on the comic I thought some people might be interested in (don't wanna make this post longer than it already is lol). I will upload the frames from the video separately, with comments on it there.

Bottom line is, thank you for letting me just go wild with this :)

Okay, I'm mostly gonna talk about the part where Fate shows Makarov the 141+Farah. Makarov doesn't see the Fate of people as literal images, he often has to interpret odd symbolism in the flashes he gets from the Weave of Fate.

I decided to go for a style I saw in a collection of calling cards in MW3, mainly from this one:

You can really see it in the faces and pitch-black cel shading.

I'll be going in order of appearance, starting with Farah.

Obviously, each of the "flashes" shows the Reaping of each person, Farah being crushed under rubble. Behind her is a helo of green gas, which symbolizes the Russian experimental gas. The motifs around her are more interesting imo - they're taken from the Urzik flag (and yeah apparently it's "Urzik" and not "Urzikstani"... according to the wiki at least). Wings, plants (feels to me like a pomegranate and some sort of crop, but I couldn't find what it is specifically), and a moon, upside down.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I've had the idea to make a drawing of Gaz in the Hanged Man pose since I started the AU basically. I tried sketching it once, and it went bad so I gave up lol. But I decided to come back to that here, and add some sort of tarot connection to all of them. I know practically nothing about tarot, googled the meanings of each, they fit well enough, I called it a day lol.

So Farah is the Moon, upside down.

Price is next, showing him taking control of the brain of someone. I didn't use the flag of the UK for the 141 (it'd be kinda boring...), instead I took the Taskforce 141 logo, and broke it down to different elements.

I took the laurels for Price, both framing his illustration and sitting above his head like a crown. I decided he will be the Emperor.

Next up is Gaz, the Hanged Man of course. Gaz gets both the wings and the stars (I changed mine to 4-pointed because... I like them better). Pretty clear why, both symbols relate to the sky. The illustrations kinda follow a rough day cycle, if that makes sense. Farah being night, with the moon. Price with his golden and purple color palette, twilight. Gaz being sunrise, and Ghost and Soap, day. This is why Gaz has a sun behind him.

Ghost was fun because he's the only inhuman one out of the group. I'll let you think what that implies, that even in Fate's Weave, Ghost is an outlier... Ghost gets the skull, and the card "Death". That one was easy, but what I did add is blood flowing down the skulls, like tear tracks...

Soap, the problem child, gave me the most issues as always. For once, it wasn't his fucking face, it was the flames behind him, and overall contrast and readability issues. Soap's illustration is probably packed with the most "hidden" details, though they're obvious if you've read the fic and Konchar's side story. The headless man behind Soap is Konchar himself, holding 4 chains with dog tags on them. The 4 soldiers from Soap's squad, who he killed before Soap was Reaped. Soap's pose is from the moment he came to his senses, after getting shot in the head and destroying a large part of Verdansk. He has 4 swords, pointing at him and downwards, so his card is 4 of Swords, upside down.

Between Soap and Ghost is a circle and a triangle. I'll explain that in the post concerning the video, since that's where I got that from.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! There will be another post for you to read in a moment lol

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 1 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : finally here!! lowkey didn't get to my word goal:((

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt, platonic relationships with other members

NSFW contents : specified in chapter

The question that lingers in my mind

Namjoon quickly made his way to your house, arms loaded with a tub of your favorite ice cream and a bag filled with your favorite go to alcohol or probably beer. He was your closest friend, practically a brother, and he always seemed to know how to comfort you when you needed it most. The familiar sound of his knuckles tapping against the door echoed through your silent apartment.

"Y/N! I'm hereee!" he called, his voice bright and cheerful, trying to cut through the heaviness of the moment.

"It's open! Just come in," you managed to reply, though your voice cracked, betraying the tears you had been trying to stifle. As soon as the door swung open, you felt a fresh wave of sobs building in your chest.

Namjoon rushed in, his expression shifting from playful to concerned in an instant. "What happened??" he asked, worry etched across his features as he approached your room.

You couldn't find the words, the emotions overwhelming you as you sat on the edge of your bed, crumpled tissues littering the floor around you. Instead, you just continued to cry, your heart breaking all over again.

"Do you want me to call Jungkook??" he offered, but at the mention of his name, your sobs intensified. The thought of hearing his voice was too painful, too fresh.

Namjoon paused, taking a moment to assess the situation. He knelt beside you, turning your head gently to meet his gaze. "Did you guys fight?" he asked softly, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your distress.

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. "Worse," you finally managed to reply, voice trembling. "Joon... he fucking broke up with me. He fucking—fuck. He dumped me."

The air felt heavy with the weight of your confession, and Namjoon's eyes widened in shock. "Why?? What happened??" he pressed, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

"Exactly... I don't know what I did wrong," you sobbed harder, the floodgates opening. "How can he just throw away our memories like that? And he has the fucking audacity to tell me to wait for him" Your words trailed off, and you buried your face in your hands, unable to contain the wave of sorrow crashing over you.

Namjoon instinctively pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, it's okay. Just let it out," he murmured, gently rubbing your back as you tried to cool down.

After a few moments, you pulled away slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Let's go to a club later, Joon. Maybe I'll find someone better there," you suggested, the anger in your voice barely masking the hurt.

"No, Y/N. You are not getting knocked up or catching dirty diseases from filthy men in clubs," he replied firmly, though there was a hint of a smile at your reckless idea. "Let's just drink or hang out today, yeah?"

You considered it for a moment. "We can bring friends too if you want," he suggested, gauging your reaction.

Flashback

The moment you received Jungkook's breakup text, your heart sank. The message was blunt, cold, and devoid of any emotion—just like the man you once thought would love you forever. With shaking hands, you stared at your phone, disbelief coursing through you. After two years of shared dreams and plans, he had chosen to end things with a simple text. It felt unreal, like a cruel joke played by the universe.

You had to see him, to confront him. You couldn't let this end without hearing his voice, without understanding why. So you drove to his penthouse, each turn of the road amplifying the dread that clutched at your heart.

When you arrived, you barely registered the grandeur of his place—the sleek furniture, the breathtaking view of the city that had once felt like a backdrop to your love story. Instead, all you could think about was the weight of Jungkook's decision and the emptiness that came with it.

You stepped inside, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a memory. Your footsteps echoed in the spacious hallway as you made your way to his room. You could feel your heart racing, a mixture of anger, confusion, and sorrow bubbling up inside you.

"Y/N... I told you we're done," Jungkook's voice was strained as he stood with his back to you, facing the window. His shoulders were tense, and he seemed unwilling to meet your gaze.

"Is that really how you're going to do this? You sent me a text. A fucking text, Jungkook! You didn't tell me anything." Your voice rose, a sharp edge of frustration cutting through the pain.

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the profile of his face, marred by uncertainty and conflict. "Y/N... I need space, alright?!" The sudden snap in his tone took you aback, his frustration spilling over.

"Space? Why?" Your voice cracked, the gravity of his words sinking in. "What did I do wrong? Was I not enough?" Each question felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veil of composure you had left.

"Was there someone el—" Before you could finish, Jungkook stepped forward, closing the gap between you in an instant. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was desperate, consuming, as if he were trying to devour you, to erase the reality of what was happening.

You melted into him, instinctively wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your heart raced, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. But just as quickly as it began, he pulled away, breathless and tearful.

"Jungkook... baby, please, no..." you begged, your voice trembling as the tears you had been holding back began to spill over. "Don't do this to us."

"I think it's time we take a break, Y/N." His voice was softer now, but it carried an unyielding finality. "I'll come back to you once I'm all better and perfect for you. Hm?" He brought your face up gently, forcing you to look into his eyes, those familiar brown depths that had always felt like home.

You nodded silently, your heart breaking at the thought of being apart. The weight of his words crushed you, leaving you feeling small and defeated.

Minutes passed in silence, a heavy tension settling between you. It felt as if the air had thickened, each breath becoming a struggle as you both tried to navigate the emotional turmoil that had engulfed you.

"I just... I don't understand," you finally whispered, trying to process the whirlwind of feelings. "We were happy, weren't we? What changed?"

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's not that simple, Y/N. I don't want to drag you down with me. I need to figure things out... for both of us."

"But I want to help you! I want to be there for you!" you protested, tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running down in dark streaks. "Why can't you see that?"

"Because sometimes love isn't enough," he replied, his voice strained with emotion. He stepped back, distancing himself as if he were afraid of the intensity of what was happening between you.

The moment stretched painfully, the silence growing heavier. You felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure of how to step back from this chasm. You wanted to scream, to shake him and make him see reason, but all you could do was stand there, vulnerable and exposed.

"can you do something for me baby?" Jungkook said, his expression softening for a moment. "just- just wait for me. i'll be back once i'm all ready, better and fit for you. can you be okay with that baby?"

The thought of moving on without him felt unbearable. "How can you ask me that? How can you just walk away and expect me to be okay?" Your voice was barely a whisper, each word laced with sorrow.

"Because I love you," he said, and it felt like a knife to your heart. "And I don't deserve you. his is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, i'll be back once i finally deserve you."

The finality of his words hung in the air, suffocating you. It felt like the walls were closing in, and you struggled to breathe.

"I can't believe you're doing this," you murmured, feeling your heart splintering into a million pieces. "I thought we were in this together."

"Y/N... please," he said, his voice breaking slightly. He stepped closer again, his hands cupping your face. "I need you to trust me. This is what's best for both of us."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, any flicker of hesitation. But all you saw was resolve, and it shattered you. You couldn't fight against him anymore; it felt like trying to hold back the tide.

"Just... go," you finally said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "If this is what you want, then go. But don't expect me to be here when you come back."

With that, you turned away, feeling like a ghost in the place that had once felt like home. The silence followed you as you walked out of his room, your heart heavy with the weight of your shattered dreams.

The drive back to your penthouse was a blur. You could barely see through the tears streaming down your face, mascara staining your cheeks. Each turn felt like a reminder of what you had lost. You replayed the moments you had shared, the laughter, the plans, the way he had looked at you with such warmth. Now, it was all gone—an illusion shattered by a single text.

When you arrived at your penthouse, the familiar surroundings offered little comfort. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you with memories that now felt tainted. You dropped your keys on the table, the sound echoing through the silence.

You collapsed onto the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. The emptiness inside you ached, a deep, gnawing pain that refused to let go. You could feel the tears coming again, an uncontrollable wave of sorrow crashing over you.

Why couldn't he see that you were enough? That you wanted to fight for him, for the love you had built together?

2 weeks

It had been two weeks since Jungkook broke up with you—two weeks of silence that felt louder than any argument you'd ever had. Two weeks without his messages lighting up your phone, his reassuring voice calling you just to check in, or his sweet words that somehow always knew how to soothe the deepest parts of you. The absence was a void, consuming and hollow, yet sharp at the edges, cutting into you with every reminder.

You missed the little things. How he would text you "good morning" without fail, his sleepy voice leaving voicemails if he couldn't reach you. The silly pictures he'd send to make you laugh on your roughest days, and his small, unexpected gifts. They'd come in glossy packages, ribbons you'd undo with eager hands only to reveal something so extravagantly expensive you'd feel your heart swell and your voice catch, telling him he didn't have to spend so much. But he would just smile, his hand resting gently against your cheek, saying, "You deserve to be treated for what you're worth. And you're worth millions... billions. So much more than that."

No amount of words had convinced him that you didn't need all those grand gestures. It was his presence, his love, that was priceless to you. He was what you wanted, all you needed. But now, without him, even those little things he left behind seemed like they were mocking you, a painful reminder of promises unkept.

Two weeks should have been long enough to let go, to start piecing together the shattered remains of your heart. You told yourself every day that it was time to move on, to forget. But your heart betrayed you every night as you lay in bed, reaching instinctively to the other side where he used to lie. The sheets were cold now, his scent slowly fading. And with each reminder, a thousand questions echoed in your mind.

Why was it so easy for him to leave? Why did he walk away so quickly while you were still drowning in the memories he left behind?

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the ache that rose in your throat. This wasn't healthy. You couldn't go on like this, holding onto fragments of a love that no longer existed. Standing up, you made your way to your closet, determination stiffening your resolve. If he could move on so easily, then so could you.

Opening the doors, you took in the rows of clothes neatly hung, interspersed with items that weren't yours—hoodies, shirts, and jackets that he'd left behind after countless nights spent together. You reached out, fingers brushing over a worn T-shirt of his, the fabric soft and familiar beneath your touch. You could still remember the last time he'd worn it, his arms wrapped around you as you lay in his embrace, your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

But that was then. And now... now it was time to let go.

You started pulling his clothes out one by one, each article feeling heavier than the last. It was almost a ritual, each item you took out a small act of defiance, a reclaiming of the space he'd left behind. As the pile grew, so did the anger simmering within you. It bubbled up, breaking through the sadness, sharpening into something fierce and raw.

"Fuck you, Jungkook," you muttered under your breath, barely realizing that you'd spoken aloud. "For making me love you and then leaving me like this." The words tumbled out, each one laced with the bitterness that had been building up inside you.

With each piece you tossed into the box, the weight on your chest seemed to lessen just a bit. You threw in the hoodies he'd lent you on cold nights, the shirts you'd worn as pajamas, each one carrying the ghost of his touch. You wanted them out of your sight, out of your life.

Once his clothes were gone, you moved on to the other things—the little keepsakes he'd left behind. His toothbrush next to yours, his cologne bottle half-empty on the dresser, the small stack of books he'd borrowed and never returned. You swept it all into the box, each item feeling like a wound you were finally closing.

But as you finished packing everything, your hand brushed against something cold, and you froze. It was the necklace—the one he'd given you on that perfect night when he'd promised you forever. Your fingers trembled as you held it up, the delicate chain glinting in the light. You remembered how he'd clasped it around your neck, his fingers grazing your skin as he whispered, "This is my promise to you. I'm never leaving, no matter what."

The weight of his broken promise pressed down on you, and before you could stop it, the tears spilled over. You clutched the necklace tightly, the cool metal digging into your palm as you struggled to hold yourself together.

Why had he left? Why hadn't he fought for you, for the life you'd planned together? You'd given him everything, yet he'd walked away as if it meant nothing.

Your knees buckled, and you sank down onto the floor, sobs wracking your body as the pain you'd tried so hard to contain came rushing to the surface. You felt like you were drowning, lost in a sea of grief and anger and confusion. It was as if every part of you that had once been whole was now fractured, broken beyond repair.

In the midst of your tears, you fumbled for your phone, your fingers shaking as you scrolled through your contacts. Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon's number, needing the comfort of someone who understood, who could help anchor you in the storm of emotions.

The phone rang, and after a few moments, his familiar voice answered. "Yes, Y/N? Is everything okay?" His tone was warm, tinged with concern, and it only made the tears flow harder.

"Joon..." you choked out, trying to steady your breathing. "Why—why is this so hard? I just... I just wish there was something more I could hate him for. Something to make this easier, to stop myself from loving him..." Your voice broke, a fresh wave of sobs escaping as the words you'd been holding in finally spilled out.

"Oh, Y/N..." Namjoon's voice softened, filled with empathy. "He's an asshole for doing this to you, babe. You didn't deserve any of it. I'm so sorry." There was a pause, and then he added gently, "Want me to come over? I can bring some ice cream, or we can just sit and talk if you need."

For a brief moment, the thought of having him there was comforting. But you shook your head, even though he couldn't see it. "No... I'm alright. I just... I just needed to hear your voice," you murmured, the exhaustion in your voice evident.

"Okay," he said quietly, and you could hear the sadness in his tone, the frustration that he couldn't do more to help. "But if you change your mind, I'm just a call away. Promise me you'll take care of yourself?"

"Yeah..." you replied softly, the words barely more than a whisper.

Before he could say more, you ended the call, feeling a pang of guilt. Namjoon had always been there for you, a steady presence in your life, yet right now, not even his reassurance could ease the ache inside you.

You looked down at the necklace still clutched in your hand, your fingers loosening around it. It felt heavy, a tangible reminder of the promises he'd broken, the love that had once felt so real. Slowly, you unclasped it from around your neck, feeling a strange sense of finality as you placed it gently in the box, on top of everything else.

The last piece of him, gone.

flashback

Paris was like a living dream. The city's air felt soft, carrying the scent of fresh bread, blooming flowers, and that slight trace of romance found only here. Jungkook's hand held yours as you both strolled down cobblestone streets, the lights of the city casting a warm, golden glow on the world around you. It was your first anniversary, and Jungkook had insisted on making it memorable.

"The city suits you," he murmured, his eyes soft as they roamed over your face. You squeezed his hand in response, feeling so grateful to be here with him.

"It's... perfect," you breathed, taking in the architecture, the people, and, most of all, him.

That day, as you both wandered through Paris, something caught your eye in a small shop window—a necklace, delicate yet striking, in the shape of a butterfly. You stopped in front of it, drawn in by the design's subtle elegance. But you were careful not to linger too long, as you weren't one to ask for material things. Growing up, you were used to having everything handed to you without a word, and you always felt a tinge of guilt about it. It made you appreciate thoughtfulness over wealth.

Jungkook noticed the way your eyes lingered, though you quickly looked away. He smiled to himself, filing the moment away in his mind. You had no idea that he'd already decided on a plan.

That night, back in the hotel room, you were peacefully asleep after a long day. With your steady breathing as his only company, Jungkook slowly and carefully slipped out of bed, glancing at you one last time to make sure you were truly asleep. He moved quietly, slipping out the door and into the Parisian night, with a mission in mind.

Jungkook made his way back to the boutique. The shopkeeper, who was just about to close up, welcomed him with a knowing smile as he walked in.

"Changed your mind about the necklace, sir?" she asked, recognizing him.

"Yes," Jungkook replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'd like it custom-made."

He explained his idea: the initials "K.Y." and "J.JK" engraved on the back, where only the two of you would know. The butterfly itself meant more to him than he could easily say; it was a symbol of transformation and new beginnings. Y/N had helped him see that change didn't have to be terrifying, that it could be a journey to something better. She was the one who had encouraged him to open his heart and embrace the unknown. In a way, she had transformed him. The necklace was not just a gift; it was his heart, crafted in gold, for her to wear close to hers.

after paying. he held the necklace in his hand, feeling a wave of excitement wash over him as he admired the initials engraved so delicately. He could already imagine your face when you'd see it, and he smiled to himself as he headed back to the hotel, hiding the box carefully before slipping back into bed beside you.

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook took your hand, guiding you to a spot near the Eiffel Tower. The sky was a rich, deep blue, and the lights of the tower illuminated everything around you, casting a golden glow that felt almost magical. You were mesmerized, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that only deepened with him beside you.

Jungkook stopped in front of you, letting go of your hand to reach into his pocket. "Close your eyes," he whispered, his voice warm.

You laughed, your heart fluttering. "What? You're not proposing or something, are you?" you joked, cheeks warming as you looked up at him.

"Not yet," he replied softly, his eyes holding a promise, "but close. I'll definitely do that one day, baby." His words sent a shiver through you, and you obeyed, closing your eyes as your heart raced.

"Okay, open your eyes," he said, a note of excitement in his voice.

You opened them, and there it was—the butterfly necklace you'd seen on the first day, resting in his open palm. "Oh my god...!" You squealed, your hands flying to your mouth. The necklace was even more beautiful up close, the delicate wings catching the light perfectly. You launched yourself at Jungkook, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "I love you! I can't believe you did this!"

Jungkook laughed, holding you close and watching the pure joy on your face. "Look at the back," he said gently, guiding the necklace to face you.

You turned it over and gasped as you read the initials, your own and his, engraved into the back. The sight of it brought tears to your eyes, the meaning behind the gesture sinking in deeply. "Oh my god, baby..." You could barely speak, your heart full.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly. "It's a butterfly, like you, because you helped me through my fear of change. You showed me that change can be beautiful, that letting go and starting new... can lead to amazing things. You opened my heart to new beginnings, and the best beginning you gave me... was with you."

"Jungkook..." Tears brimmed in your eyes, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, taking in every detail of the person who had become your whole world. You reached up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, then to his nose, and both his cheeks, making him giggle.

"I love you," you whispered against his cheek, "so, so much. Thank you for this—for everything."

back to present

As you closed the lid, you felt a strange sense of emptiness. The box sat there, filled with fragments of a love that had once been everything to you, and yet now, it was nothing more than a collection of memories you were desperate to forget.

For the rest of the night, you sat in silence, the weight of the loss settling over you like a heavy blanket. You wanted to hate him, to erase every trace of him from your mind. But no matter how hard you tried, his presence lingered, a haunting reminder of what you'd once had and what you'd lost.

I'll get over him, you told yourself, though the words felt hollow, as if you were trying to convince yourself of something that wasn't true. But maybe, just maybe, if you repeated it enough, one day it would be real.

3 months

The days blurred together after the breakup. Three months. For three whole months, you'd convinced yourself that this hatred for Jungkook was all you needed to numb the pain. At first, it worked, almost like a coping mechanism—every time you felt that ache in your chest, you would remind yourself of the reasons to be angry, to stay distant. But no matter how many times you reminded yourself of the anger, it was never enough to cover the emptiness, the loneliness that slowly crept in, hollowing out pieces of you.

You were isolating yourself from everyone who tried to reach you, pushing them away as if they were intruders. Namjoon had called and texted every day, and Jennie had stopped by repeatedly, but you never opened the door. Even Seokjin had come over with Sana to try and pull you out of this haze. Yet you felt too far gone. You loved Jungkook. Too much. And every time you thought of him, it felt like a fresh wound tearing open.

Then came that Thursday morning, the first rays of light slipping through your curtains, though you could barely feel them. You'd spent another night tossing and turning, haunted by memories of him. And something within you just... broke. You reached for the bottle of sleeping pills by your bedside, not thinking, just wanting the pain to fade. One pill, then two, then three, then more. You felt yourself drifting, the world becoming softer, quieter.

But the next thing you knew, you were waking up, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room. It felt like a dream, surreal and hazy, until you began to focus on the faces surrounding you—your family, looking terrified and heartbroken, Namjoon with his head in his hands, Jennie crying softly beside him, and Seokjin gripping Sana's hand tightly. And then, your gaze landed on him. Jungkook was there, his eyes red and swollen, a look of devastation etched across his face. They were all worried sick.

The night before, Namjoon had wanted to surprise you with Sana. They'd brought over your favorite snacks and movies, hoping to lift your spirits. But when they arrived, your place was silent. Namjoon had called your name, but there was no answer. That's when they found you, lying on your bed, your hand loosely clutching the bottle of pills. Sana had screamed for him, her voice trembling and desperate. "Namjoon! Call 911! Please, I beg you!" She was sobbing as she held you in her arms, trying to shake you awake, her own heart breaking with each unresponsive second. "Y/N, please... please wake up!"

Namjoon's hands had shaken as he called for help, explaining the situation to the paramedics, his own voice cracking as he fought to stay composed. They both were crying, praying as they waited for the ambulance, the moments dragging on as they feared the worst.

Now, seeing you awake, a mixture of relief and heartbreak filled the room. But the silence was thick, tension brewing as everyone grappled with what had almost happened. It was Jungkook who broke it, his voice raw, trembling with both anger and hurt.

"Y/N, are you... are you insane?" he snapped, his fists clenched, his face a mixture of anger and fear. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"

You felt your heart clench, the pain resurfacing, sharper now in his presence. "So what, Jungkook?" you replied bitterly, your voice shaking. "Why do you even care? You didn't care about my feelings when you decided to just leave me. You left, Jungkook. You left, and now you're acting like you care?"

The words spilled out before you could stop them, each one filled with months of pain and anger that had been bottled up. Jungkook opened his mouth, about to say something, but you cut him off.

"Leave, Jungkook. Just leave."

The finality in your words hit him like a punch. He froze, staring at you, his face contorted with hurt. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. The door shut behind him with a loud thud that seemed to echo through the silence, leaving everyone else frozen in place, tears streaming down their faces. Jennie clung to Seokjin, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, while Namjoon looked at you, his own face wet with tears as he fought to hold himself together.

It was only then that the weight of everything you'd put them through hit you, the reality of how close they'd come to losing you. They sat in silence, each one lost in their own thoughts, grieving for the person they'd almost lost, the pain written across their faces as they struggled to find the right words.

taglist : @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @junecat18 @primadonnasdream @minimoniminimoni @7lilacpetals @vonvi-blog @jk97bam @kissyfacekoo @baechugff @chuberry22 @nerdycheol @etaernaluvv

[dameronology]

complex (logan)

summary: honestly i was just listening to complex by katie macleod and i started typing and this is what happened, it's only 800 words but hey-ho.

warnings: arguments, so much swearing, logan is kind of a dick

Your residual anger hung thick in the air like heat in the summer.

Your apartment was full of signs—little reminders of your argument, tiny clues to point to the hurt in your chest. The blankets on the sofa were still tangled from where Logan had slept there last night. There were two empty bottles of whisky beside a smashed plate on the coffee table, matched with angry claw marks where he'd made the wooden structure his victim. Most obviously, you and the man you loved stood on each end of the room and the argument, chests heaving from shouting and fists balled up with rage. 

"I fucking hate you," you declared.

"No, you don't," Logan deadpanned, "you hate me right now, but really, you love me."

"Don't," you paused, taking a deep breath, "don't tell me how to feel."

"But you're allowed to tell me how to feel, huh?" he challenged.

There was another strangled sigh in your mouth. You couldn't keep sighing. You needed to come up with something new. Yelling had never been your thing. Maybe Logan's, but not yours. He hadn't even yelled for this entire fight. There had been heated exchanges, sure, but even in his most frustrated moments, he hadn't dared raise his voice. He had that much self-control.

"I can't look at you," your eyes fell to the floor.

Logan let out a snort. "Can't look at me, huh? Can't look me in the eye?"

This whole thing had started because the furry fucking moron had said something stupid. Then, he'd made it even worse when you'd pointed it out. It was like Logan had brought himself a proverbial shovel and was rewarding himself by digging a hole. He was ten feet down, and he couldn't see anything, save if he looked up and saw you glancing down at him with bleary eyes in his self-sustained grave. You could have reached down your hand to help him out but it was too far.

"Fuck. You."

Your chest heaved as you shoved past him, shoulders hitting his with a thud. Logan had barely even processed what had happened before the bedroom door slammed in his face. The force caused a picture on the shelf beside it to fall, the glass smashing into three separate pieces. He leant down to pick it up, turning the frame over. It was a picture of you at Coney Island two years ago; the wind was blowing your hair back, faced pressed to Logan's as he scowled. They were sweeter times.

Logan glanced up at the ceiling - or the sky, whatever the closest thing is.

"Whoever the fuck is up, that's not fucking funny."

He stopped at the door.

To say his heart broke when he heard you crying on the other side would be an understatement. There was a lot of sounds that Logan hated; his ring tone, his alarm sound in the morning, Wade Wilson's voice...but above all, the sound of you crying felt like a punch to the throat. It was even worse for him to know that he was the one who caused it.

Logan didn't stop before he opened the door. He booted it, body crossing the room in seconds to meet you at the bed. You were curled up, hugging his pillow to your chest and crying into yours.

He fell to his knees beside you, warm hands pulling your arms away from your face and towards him instead. A pair of strong arms came to wrap around you and in seconds, you were pressed to his chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "don't cry. Please don't cry. Punch me, slap me, fuckin' kill me if you want but please don't cry."

A little sob escaped your throat. "You're so frustrating."

"I know," Logan gave you a small smile, "christ, I know. And I am so fucking sorry."

He re-centred you on the bed, organising the pillows so that they were behind you. The mattress dipped beside you as he climbed under the covers, pulling you back into his side. You were still glaring at him, still refusing to throw you a ladder down his special grave.

"I let my anger get the best of me sometimes," Logan said, "maybe I don't shout at you or get angry the way I do at other people, but it...it manifests in more fucked up ways, I think. I like arguing. I love riling people up. I don't like doing that to you, though."

"You did, though."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmured. "I'm trying my best. I know my best is absolute bullshit but...I am trying."

You tangled your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I know. It's okay if you want to keep trying."

Logan softly smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[kookinglikeachef]

Y/N is Jungkook’s American neighbor and the walls between their apartments are paper-thin.... and I think you can come up with the rest iykwim

━━━━━━

kookinglikeachef: There’s just something about neighbor!Jungkook hearing you get off that’s so hot to me and the language barrier is even hotter.

“Hi, hello” - English

‘’Bye, goodbye’’ - Korean

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The scent of the Ramyeon takeout bagged in Jungkook’s hands is enough to make his knees buckle. It’s been a long day of straining his muscles from difficult choreography and leaving the studio to realize he left his keys inside and had to climb six flights of stairs again because the elevator was out of order.

He can practically hear his sofa calling his name, can taste the cold bottles of beer that sit in his fridge. He’s a twenty-seven-year-old K-Pop star and he’s spending his Saturday night alone with a takeaway.

Someone who isn’t doomed to the same sad fate is Y/N, his neighbor who’s all dressed up in something that compliments your skin perfectly, as you’re locking the front door and shoving your keys into the tiny clutch you’ve got hanging from your shoulder on a thick silver chain when you noticed him.

“Oh, hey,” you greet softly in Korean, offering a bright and friendly smile. Jungkook smiles back when he hears it, chest swelling. You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that. But hearing you try to speak his language is what sends him over. Even if your pronunciation wasn’t great.

He’s never seen you dressed in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt or your work uniform. He’s never been given the opportunity to see you in an elegant manner, to notice new parts of your body he can suddenly imagine himself gripping.

He clears his throat and smiles wider.

“Hello. You.. look.. lovely, very beautiful,” he compliments you kindly in English, fingers fiddling with his keys to keep him busy. He watched you blush at his comment, how you pursed your lips to hide your shy smile and it makes him fucking throb.

You knew who he was, of course, you did. You bumped into him six months ago when he was moving in next door. You didn’t recognize him at first, not until you were at his apartment door trying to welcome him to the building and LA that you stared at him with wide eyes and a breathy, “oh wow, aren’t you that guy from that really popular Korean group?”

Okay… so maybe you didn’t know who he was, but you were on the right track.

“Thank you,” you broke from your trip down memory lane and take him in.

He had his usually dinner in hand and his body slightly slouching from exhaustion. You rarely seen him out with friends but your schedules were usually very different.

You hummed, trying to remember in your choppy Korean, "You want come on me and my friends?”

Jungkook bites his lip ring and looked down at the floor, laughing. You stared at him, confused, but still could not help smiling at his attractive laugh.

“No..” he looked back up, still giggly. “No come.”

You nodded, shrugging your shoulders. “Goodnight, then.” You say in English as you waved your hand softly in a bid of goodbye.

“Be safe,” Jungkook says tenderly, a wholesome smile on those pink lips. He waited until you rounded the corner before he unlocked his door and kicked off his shoes.

Jungkook gently tossed the takeout bag on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen, grabbing bottles of beer by their necks with his looped fingers, kicking the fridge closed behind him. His entire apartment is dark but he doesn’t see the point in turning any lights on when he knows the TV works just fine.

There’s only an ounce of loneliness for Jungkook when he eats his dinner alone and watched some sappy rom-com k-drama on Netflix when he turned the television on. He doesn’t long for his friends but a secret part of him craves for his neighbor.

He wondered what it’d be like for you to be cuddled into his side as you’d both watch the movie. Wonders if you’d laugh at certain parts and crane your neck up to pepper soft kisses to his pink lips. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts of you from his mind.

But it’s proven a little more difficult when he takes to his shower and the water is running down his tense and naked body. He struggles to not think about you on your knees, touching and kissing up his thighs.

He has to swallow back the lump in his throat and blinks away the urge to touch himself to the thought of you. He refused to be that kind of guy. So instead, when his hand still starts to wrap around his hardening cock, he thinks of the most disgusting thing he can and gets out of the shower.

Jungkook plays the guitar for a bit of the evening, humming along to tunes to pass the time away. Somewhere through singing “baby we two distant strangers, I know you don't speak my language”, he catches sight of the clock on the wall and he’s confused as to how it’s already a little past midnight.

It’s when he’s locking his door and crawling into bed that he hears a soft giggle muffled from the wall behind his head. He knows that giggle to be of yours and it’s only just occurring to him that perhaps your bedroom is mirroring his.

He’s kicking off his sweats as he throws his cover over his almost naked body and he can hear another sweet giggle fall from your lips. He tries not to let the sound affect him, he knows what’s about to go down past midnight for you.

You’ve brought someone home.

He can hear soft moans slipping from your lips but there’s a high, robotic voice that announces the Bluetooth is successfully connected and he knows he’s about to hear your fuck playlist. The thought sends a thrill through his body and he knows he’s unlikely going to get any sleep tonight.

He’s about to get up, to move to the sofa in the living room, to not be disrespectful and a perv by listening to you getting off with some one night stand, but he hears a familiar low sounding synthesizer and bass muffled through the paper-thin walls and his eyes are bulging.

“Feelin' like I'm floatin'. Something's in the air tonight.”

You’re giggling again and he can hear your body fall to the bed – the bed that’s very clearly pushed up against the same wall that his is and he hears it creak under your weight, feels the wall tremble slightly as your bedframe knocks against it.

His hand finds its way in his boxers before he can fully comprehend what he’s doing. He’s rock fucking hard, and he kicks off his boxers and his sheets, leaving him sprawled on his back, completely bare.

Jungkook hears your soft whimpers, can hear your hum in appreciation even over the thumping of his song. He doesn’t know what’s turning him on more.; the fact that he can hear you getting off and moaning out, or that you’re listening to him while another man fucks you.

Either way, his hand is wrapped tight around his length, thumbing over his oozing tip. He thinks of how you must be, how you’d look completely naked and sprawled out on the bed for him. Jungkook imagines himself on top of you, kissing every inch of your body and wrapping his lips around your swelling nipples. He thinks he can taste you on his tongue, can feel your fingers tugging at his hair.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped through the wall. He can imagine your eyes rolling back when he finally sheathes himself inside you, can see the look of ecstasy on your face when your jaw falls slack and your body quivers. He knows you’d feel him deep in your stomach.

“Fuck,” he pants out breathlessly. He’s tugging at his dick, spitting down on it to get it a little wet. He knows you’re so much wetter on the other side of the damn wall. Jungkook’s head is thrown back in his pillow, eyes shut tight and he knows he’s breaking a sweat that’s dotting at his hairline.

Everything feels surreal, like he’s in his own personal heaven with a touch of hell. You’re crying out for more, begging for it deeper, harder, and he finds himself fucking into his fist the way you’re desperate for.

Jungkook can’t focus on anything other than your sweet fucking cries that sounds fucking otherworldly against his song. It’s when he stops singing that you really let yourself go, filthy fucking moans and whines and God he wishes he could watch you.

You’re trembling and begging as the instrumental plays out, and Jungkook can’t handle it.

Gruff moans are slipping past his lips and he does nothing to try and conceal them. His tatted arm is burning a naked fire in his muscles but he fucks his cock harder, his other hand fondling with his lonely balls and he wants to feel them slap at your ass as he pounds you into your creaky mattress.

He can feel the coil tightening in his stomach, the way his cock starts to twitch. His imagination grows wild and it’s like he’s on top of you, hand around your throat as he shoves his cock in you repeatedly, senselessly. He thinks he can taste your tongue on his. He thinks he can feel your nails scratching down his back.

Jungkook’s mind takes him to sinful places. He can see himself spitting on your tongue, see you swallowing it. He can hear your voice echoing through his ears like a fucking prayer.

“Please. JK!” Even through your cries, your imperfect Korean was the hottest he’d ever heard. Your bed is creaking louder than before and he knows your thighs are fucking trembling as you came around the stranger’s cock. Jungkook’s got his hand and thighs covered in thick ribbons of white arousal and when his eyes flutter open, through blotched white vision, he can see you kneeling between his thighs and licking him up.

He’s completely fucked as he hears his song mellow out and you aren’t moaning anymore. Instead, he can hear your breathless, pretty giggles and your little pants for breath. He stays where he is for a second, eager to see what else he can hear. Your bed creaks again and he supposes the stranger has got up to clean themselves off. But he doesn’t hear you anymore and the song changes to complete and utter silence.

He doesn’t hear the bed creak again or any other noise from your side of the wall, and when it nears 1 am, he figures you two are sleeping.

Jungkook doesn’t sleep the entire night. He can’t. He’s kept awake with the thrill and guilt of listening to his neighbor have sex through the bedroom wall. Or is it with the thrill and guilt of pretending that it was him? He isn’t sure, even after thinking about it all night.

He’s been in the living room, strumming notes on the guitar and plucking inspiration out of his frazzled brain. He doesn’t hear anymore movement from your apartment or the hall for the rest of the night. The narcissistic part of Jungkook wants to catch who the stranger is. Wants to know if his song playing while you had sex, was a coincidence or if your lover for the night holds any resemblance to him.

But as closely (and creepily) as he listens, he doesn’t hear any sign of someone sneaking out and he wonders if maybe it’s not a stranger and perhaps you’d been seeing someone? He doesn’t know why but the thought makes his jaw tick.

It’s 6 am when he’s going downstairs to check his little mailbox, doing something to pass the early morning and to possibly sneak a peek at the stranger. Jungkook thinks 6 am is a reasonable time to sneak out of a brief lover’s arms. And he thinks he’s about to hit the jackpot when he’s about to unlock his door and yours opens.

You’re yawning as you tug your jacket on your shoulders; wearing your work clothes. He frowns with a smile when you notice him.

You’re alone.

His heart is hammering in his chest because you had no idea he heard every word you muttered last night.

“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in Korean. And he’ll try to respond in English. It’s kind of a thing between you two. And the only thing.

“Good morning.” He smiles. “Um.. fun.. night?” He asks.

“Amazing… uh… night.” You tried.

“Night,” he says in Korean.

“Night.” You repeated. “Amazing night.”

A proud smile spreads over his pierced lips.

“Lucky night,” his smile turns cheeky.

You stifle a loud laugh, playfully hitting his shoulder.

He wonders if you think he’s being nosy, being creepy. Or maybe if you’ve realized that he heard you. But your friends have embarrassed you in front of Jungkook enough times in passing for that statement to be absolutely normal between the two of you—always joking about how lucky you get with guys from the bar.

He was usually still at the studio by the time you’d come home for him to find out if it were true.

“Not a chance. Came home alone, went to bed alone,” you spoke carefully for him to understand and blushed inwardly.

Jungkook just nods along with a smile still resting on his lips and he doesn’t say anything back, his eyes are too glued to your own lips, the sound of your moans still ringing in his ears.

Then… a beat.

You came home alone and went to bed alone? But by the sounds that Jungkook remembers, you were definitely doing something with his voice filling your ears and room… unless…

Oh…

Oh.

[tkwrites]

A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride 

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: Due to circumstances outside of his control, Quinn finds himself late to a FaceTime date with Sarah. When she starts some fun by herself, Quinn can’t help but join in, even if he can’t see her. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ only!) - masturbation, vibrator use, phone sex (sort of), long distance relationships, a bit voyeuristic? 

Word Count: 973

Comments: In an effort to provide my fellow Americans some distraction on this very stressful election day, I present to you Quinn getting Sarah off with the vibrator she gifted him for his birthday - with a twist.

The idea of this came into my mind, and I just had to write it down. It also happened to be the piece that was closest to being finished. 

I hope you enjoy! If you did, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Also, let me know if you’d like to see a part two!

Anonymous asked: Can we expect to see Quinn putting that new vibrator to use with Sarah in the near future? 😍

Anonymous asked: Any change we could also get a little something of Quinn and Sarah for the election stress 👀 

A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride 

A  Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Even though they were coming off a matinee win over the Penguins, this wasn’t the way Quinn would have chosen to end his day. 

Their plane broke down in Pittsburgh, so what should have been a two hour flight turned into a three and a half hour bus ride. He knew things had to be done, and they had to get to Ohio to get in some solid sleep before the game tomorrow, but bus travel was his least favorite. It was crammed and smelly, and the bus rocked in a disconcerting way the plane never did. 

He couldn’t fall asleep and on top of everything else, now he was late for a FaceTime date with Sarah. 

She’d messaged they day before, wondering if he had a room to himself in Columbus. 

When he confirmed that he was indeed roommateless the next evening, she responded, Oh, thank God. I’m so horny, I’m going insane. 

Can’t you get yourself off? 

Yeah, but it’s better when I can hear you. 

That message had made him blush, but also filled his chest with so much pride, he felt like he could have single handedly taken down Crosby. 

And now, he was stuck on this fucking bus. It definitely wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his evening. Especially not when Sarah was relying on him. 

Trying to distract himself with the book he was reading, he almost didn’t look at his phone when it buzzed in his pocket. 

Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him, and he pulled it out, wondering if he’d find another message like the ones from yesterday. Instead, the notification read: Lush: engaged

This bus ride was about to get a lot more interesting. 

Anytime this notification came through, Quinn always felt a heady rush of euphoria. Sometimes, he didn’t even join in on the fun. Just knowing Sarah was pleasuring herself never failed to make his mouth water and his pants a little tighter. 

She’d confessed a while ago that the toy she’d given him for his birthday was her favorite, even if she was controlling it herself. 

The first few times they’d used it, he watched her get herself off with it before taking over so he could learn her limits. 

Now, he opened the app and watched the slider for the internal motor tick up. The external motor stayed low and steady. He hardly ever saw it move. Occasionally, she turned it off altogether.

Watching the levels increase and decrease a few times, he knew she was working herself up — easing in, so the intensity the toy could bring on didn’t become too much.  

He never thought he could get so breathlessly turned on from watching a slider move on his phone. After a few more minutes, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His fingers were itching to take control. 

Finally giving himself permission, he switched the vibration pattern of the internal motor from the steady buzz to the thump-thump-thump. He liked to watch her fall apart around this particular pattern as it often caused her to breathe, moan, and clench down in rhythm. Watching her body sync up with it never failed to make him breathless. 

Quinn Hughes! Her text popped up at the top of his screen. What the fuck! You can’t even see me. 

In response, he turned the vibration up a tick. In case she decided to call, he put his AirPods in, though he hoped she wouldn’t. He was sure he’d start moaning if he had to listen to her orgasm, knowing he was controlling the pace. He was practically panting just imagining it.  

I know what you look like, he shot back. I’m getting through this damned bus ride imagining how you sound. 

The fact that Quinn was still making her feel this way when they weren’t even on the phone — that he was just watching the levels on his screen, relying on his memories to guide him — was incredibly hot. The fact that he knew her well enough to get her off without any visual or verbal cues made her feel cared for and loved on top of outrageously turned on. 

It wasn’t as fun when he couldn’t hear or see her, but he still knew what she liked. After a few more minutes, he changed the pattern again to one that slid from low to high and back again. 

Although she was alone in the house, Sarah still cried out, clutching at the sheets as pleasure rocked through her. 

He let that one tease her for a while before switching back to the thumping and turning it up two ticks. 

Before her first high had a chance to edge off, he switched the vibration pattern back to the thump-thump-thump he liked so much, and it sent her careening into another orgasm. 

She wished he could hear her. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck! Quinn!” 

The vibration stayed true and strong as the pleasure eased off. Before he could switch it again and send her into another overstimulating orgasm, she groped for her phone and turned the toy low enough that she could pull it out. Slick with lube and her release, it jumped out of her hand as it buzzed back to life. She had to wrestle it still until she could turn it off. 

While she liked the orgasms as much as the next girl, she knew it would be even better when he was listening or watching, and if they kept going now, she wouldn’t have the energy to play once he was on his own. 

She hadn’t expected Quinn to join in at all. He was on the bus, for god’s sake. She just needed something to tide her over until that evening.

She sent Quinn a melted emoji along with the message, You better be getting there soon so you can finish what you just started. 

A smile beamed over his face. 

Just an hour longer. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 27

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,790ish

Summary: You're found, still in the Danger Room. The Battle of Alcatraz Island.

Warnings: mental and emotional damage, cannon level violence

Notes: Hope you guys enjoy! Share reactions!

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

Retrieving Jean was a failure. Logan was almost immediately found by Magneto, and Jean clearly didn’t want to come with Logan. He did find out that they were preparing a large attack on Worthington Labs, and he knew that he needed to get the team together to stop Magneto and his followers.

���Y/N?” Logan burst through the front door of the mansion. He could only hope that someone had found you. “Y/N! Storm!”

“Logan!” Ororo came down the stairs. “Where have you been?”

“I need help. I found Jean. She’s with Magneto.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re on the move. I know where they’re going.”

“You’re saying you saw Magneto?” Hank asked, walking up.

“Yeah. Gotta go now. They’re going to attack Alcatraz.”

“There are troops stationed on that island.”

“Not enough to stop him.”

“Let’s suit up,” Ororo said.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“I thought she was with you.”

“Fuck.”

Logan broke into a run, heading down to the lower levels. He slid to a stop in front of the doors he had locked you behind. He began to pry open the door since he had destroyed the controls with his claws to keep you in there.

“What the—“

“I need help!” Logan grunted, cutting off Ororo.

Hank immediately began helping pull open the doors. Eventually, they pried the doors open enough for them to slide away. The three of them immediately laid eyes on you. You were curled up against the wall on the other side of the Danger Room. They rushed forward, and what they saw when they got closer broke their hearts. Your eyes were glazed over, with dried tear trails lying on your cheeks, and your whole body was trembling.

“What happened here?” Hank asked, sharing a worried glance with Ororo.

Logan knelt down in front of you, the guilt destroying him inside. He reached out to pull you into him but quickly pulled back when your skin burned him worse than you had ever burned him before. He looked at his burnt, blackened hands that were slowly healing.

“Logan,” Ororo’s voice was stern, “what did you do?”

“Jean connected with Y/N,” Logan began to explain, never looking away from your trembling form. “We fought about going to bring Jean back. I decided that it was best if I went. She was going to fight me, so I locked her in here for her protection.”

“You locked her in here?” Hank repeated. “She’s been in here alone all night!”

“I know that, Hank!” Logan moved to lie down in front of you, trying to get your eyes to focus on him. “Sweetheart, I need you to focus on me.” His hands slowly moved to touch your arms, not caring if he got burnt. He needed to bring you back to him. His thumbs rubbed against your burning skin. “I need you to break out of this trance. Please, baby, come back.”

“You… left… me…” You rasped, slowly coming to.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Just let me—”

“You left me.” You scooted away from Logan’s touch as anger began to fester. 

In the hours that you had been alone, your mind had begun to play tricks on you. Well, you couldn’t tell if it was your mind or a simulation was being run in the room. Everything was so real. Stryker had appeared multiple times, reminding you of the hell that you had gone through with him. Your father had appeared, blaming you for every bad thing that had ever happened. Jean had appeared, as well as Logan. Logan had left you for her, and they taunted their relationship in front of you. 

“Y/N,” Hank called your name as he crouched down on the other side of you. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Please,” you whimpered.

Logan watched as you cooled your skin down enough for Hank to help you up. He sat up as Hank led you out of the room, keeping you in his sight until you disappeared into the hallway.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ororo said, shaking her head. “She was alone down here for hours—more than half a day.”

“I was trying to—“

“No one wants your excuses, Logan.” She sighed. “Now we have to help her, and we’ll be one person down when we go to Magneto. Which we are also running out of time to do.”

“I can fix this.” Logan scrambled to his feet. “I can—“

“Maybe stop trying to fix things right now. Hank will handle Y/N. We should go suit up.”

Logan wanted to argue more, but he knew that Ororo had a point. You were not okay, and it was his fault, once again. How did he keep doing this to you? He was supposed to love and protect you from everything. Yet, he seemed to be the thing that was hurting you the most.

~~~

“Talk to me,” Hank urged as he checked you over.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“Liar. Logan shouldn’t have done that.” You looked away, hands still trembling slightly. “Seriously, Y/N, talk to me.”

“I was stuck in a loop of my greatest fears… I honestly don’t know if it was my mind or if a simulation was running…” Your hands began to shake slightly. 

“I’m so very sorry, Y/N. You need to stay here and rest. I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can.”

“Where are you going?”

Hank sighed. “Magneto is planning on attacking Worthington Labs at Alcatraz.”

“Is Jean with him?”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming.” 

Before you could slide off the table, Hank was holding you still. “No. You need a break. You need to rest.”

“We don’t have enough teammates, Hank. You need me. I’ll be fine.”

Hank knew that you were right and also knew that you’d burn all his fur off to get your way. “Fine. But you stay close.”

~~~

“I don’t believe this once fit me,” Hank grumbled, his old leather jacket unable to close around him. They were headed to the hangar.

“If Magneto gets ahold of that cure, there will be no stopping him,” Logan stated, tugging his leather gloves on.

“Can you estimate how many he has?”

“An army. And Jean.”

“His powers have limits, hers do not.”

Logan came to a stop when he saw you in your suit, standing with the group of students you trained and Ororo. You were refusing to look at him, understandably so.

“There’s only seven of us, Logan,” Bobby said.

“Yeah,” Logan replied. “We’re outnumbered. I’m not gonna lie to you. But we lost Scott. We lost the Professor. If we don’t fight now, everything they stood for will die with them. I’m not gonna let that happen. Are you?” Bobby shook his head. “Then we stand together… X-Men,” he looked around at the group, “all of us.”

“We’re in.”

“Let’s go.”

You watched as Hank, Ororo, Kitty, Bobby, and Colossus headed for the jet. Logan stood beside you, staring at you.

“They’re ready,” he told you.

“Yeah, I know,” you replied weakly.

“Y/N,” Logan reached out, but you stepped away.

“I can’t do this right now.” 

You rushed over to the jet and found a seat in the corner. Logan wanted to sit by you but instead sat next to Ororo in one of the pilot’s seats, knowing that you needed your space.

The battle had already begun when you arrived. Magneto had moved the Golden Gate Bridge to allow his followers to cross to the island.

“On, my stars and garters,” Hank muttered.

“Goin’ to stealth mode,” Ororo stated, pressing the needed buttons.

The jet landed on the rooftop, and you all were quickly out. Storm made your entrance known with her lightning as she floated down. Beast jumped down next with Kitty and Bobby helping each other. Colossus was fine on his own, leaving you and Logan on top of the building.

“Here,” Logan reached out to you, “get on my back.”

You shook your head. “I don’t need your help.” 

You jumped off the building, hitting the ground hard and rolling to a stop. Logan saw a few drops of blood from where you had been cut in places, and his jaw clenched. You were going to be reckless during this fight, he could feel it. Using his claws, Logan slid down the building and lined up with the rest of you.

“You men, cover the doors!” Logan ordered the military men there. “Everybody, get together! And hold this line!”

Magneto was standing at the edge of the broken bridge with more of his followers behind him. Jean was near, staring at the battle.

“Finish them!” Magneto ordered.

Magneto’s followers charged, attacking your team and the military. Your hands went up in flames as you began to throw fire at the oncoming army of mutants. Logan kept you in his line of sight at all times. He knew that you could handle yourself, but he also didn’t know what type of mutants you were dealing with. Suddenly, the speedster from days ago appeared near you. She smirked before running in circles around you. You fell to your knees as the oxygen began to disappear from the area.

“Y/N!” Logan roared as he saw what was happening.

You were choking, growing dizzy as Logan fought to get to you. With a loud grunt, Logan impaled the speedster with his claws. You fell to the ground, coughing as you tried to get more air into your lungs. Logan threw the mutant’s body away before rushing to your side.

“Y/N, are you—“

“Stay away,” you rasped, pushing yourself away from Logan. He didn’t try to mask the hurt in his expression. “I can handle myself.”

Logan clenched his jaw, eyes hardening. “Clearly.” 

You stood up and ran off to go fight more mutants, Logan’s eyes following you. Jean had watched the whole interaction. Before you could form another flame, you were suddenly lifted up and pulled toward her. Logan tried to run for you, but was quickly swamped with attacking mutants.

“Jean,” you gasped, being held in the air above her. “You can help stop this.”

“What if I don’t want to?” She replied.

“This isn’t you, Jean. Come back to us.”

You could see that only made her angrier. “This is me.”

“Let me go, Jean.”

“I always thought that Logan had feelings for me. It was always nagging in the back of my mind, but I guess, so was the real me.”

“Your words can’t hurt me. I know— I know that Logan loves me as I love him. You’re just lost, Jean. Confused. We can help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

You were suddenly launched back. You hit the building with a loud crack and fell to the ground, barely conscious.

“Y/N!” / “EMBER!” 

The world was blurry around you and pain radiated from multiple points in your body. You were sure you had a concussion and multiple broken bones. It would all heal, but with time. Out of the corner of your blurry vision, you saw a burning vehicle being hurled toward you.

“Y/N!” Logan screamed. You cried out in pain as Logan grabbed you, barely rolling away in time. “I’ve got you,” he mumbled against you, holding you too tight for comfort. “I’ve got you.”

“Lo—gan—“ you croaked.

He pulled away just enough to look at your face. “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“It—You—hurts—let—go.” Every word was an achy breath.

Logan was quick to let you go and simply kneel beside you with his hands hovering. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do.”

“Go—help—them.” Something inside yourself began to scream at you that something was wrong. Your healing should have started the slow process, but the pain was only getting worse. 

“I can’t leave you!” Logan could smell your blood and your smoke, everything worrying him to his very core.

“Go…”

Logan looked around. Fiery cars were still being thrown around, with the X-Men and the military taking cover. From your position, you would be covered as long as no mutants found you. He didn’t want to dare leave you again, but he knew he couldn’t do anything until this fight was done.

“I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, holding a kiss to your forehead. “You stay here. Stay hidden. I’ll be back. Okay?” You barely nodded. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

At this point, Logan’s words were more for himself than anything. Hating to have to turn away from you, Logan rushed across the battlefield to find Storm taking cover. He noticed the car on the ground at the same time Hank and Storm did. The three of them shared a look.

“We work as a team,” Logan stated.

“Best defense is a good offense,” Storm replied.

“Bobby! You think you can take out your old friend?” 

Bobby nodded, running towards Pyro. He froze the next burning car in mid-air.

“Storm,” Logan said next, “we’re gonna need some cover.”

“Right,” Storm responded. She looked up in the sky, eyes growing cloudy as fog took over the area.

Logan went over to Colossus. “This is it.” Colossus grabbed him. “Hey, make it a strike.” 

The younger mutant lifted Logan up and spun around before launching him at Magneto. Magneto was quick to use his own abilities to stop Logan in the air, forcing him down to the ground, skidding to a stop in front of Magneto.

“You never learn, do you?” Magneto taunted.

“Actually,” Logan panted, “I do.”

Hank appeared from behind Magneto and stuck the cure into Magneto’s chest. With wide eyes, Magneto sank to his knees.

“I’m—“ He couldn’t even finish his own thought.

“One of them?” Logan taunted.

Magneto turned to face Jean. “This is what they want for all of us.”

Logan made eye contact with Jean. “It’s over, Jean. It's over.” 

“Is it?” She replied, voice hollow.

You had been going in and out of consciousness from where Logan had left you. Something was terribly wrong. You could hear the fighting all around you, but nothing was clear. Before you knew it, you were torn from your resting place and flying through the air. You came to a harsh stop in front of Jean. Logan’s eyes immediately went wide. Taking you in, it was clear that you weren’t healing. You had fresh blood everywhere, your skin was lighter than normal, and sweat glistened off of your forehead. Logan’s stomach twisted in knots. From behind, more military men, armed with guns loaded with the cure, ran over the debris. 

“No!” Logan yelled, worried for your safety. “Don’t shoot!”

Jean stopped the shots without even looking. Her eyes went back, and her skin turned dark and crackled, proving that the Phoenix was the one in control. The darts disappeared as she turned around. Pieces of debris began floating in the air, along with you, as the military men began to disappear to ash. The building and debris around them began to blow up and disappear as well, while Jean turned back to face Logan and Hank.

“Everybody, get out of here!” Hank ordered. Humans and mutants began to rush down the displaced bridge.

Storm came to a halt beside Hank and Logan. She glanced as you, dangling in the air, and then back at Logan. 

“I’m the only one who can stop her,” Logan said, willing to do what it took to get to you. “Get everyone to safety. Go!” Storm flew off as Hank ran. Logan looked at you before pulling his eyes to the woman causing all this destruction. “Jean!”  

Everything and everyone around them was turning to ash. The water from the bay began rising up over the area.

“Jean, I know you’re still there!” Logan shouted. 

Logan began to walk towards her. Jean started using her powers to slow him down. He grunted as his suit started to disappear, with his flesh trying to do so as well. His eyes flickered to you with each painful step. He could see that part of you was starting to disappear. Logan fought harder, grunting and groaning as he climbed the debris to get to Jean.

“You would die for them?” Jean’s voice sounded like pure evil.

“No.” Logan’s eyes began welling up with tears as he spared you another glance. You were completely unconscious, having succumbed to whatever Jean had done to you. “Not for them… For her… For her… Anything and everything is for her.”

Jean started growing emotional as she shook her head. “Save me.”

“I’m sorry.”

With a snikt, Logan plunged his claws into Jean. 

next chapter >

[writingsbytee]

SURPRISE! - TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER

WARNINGS: 18+ ; angst; fluff; SMUT; minors do not interact!

PAIRING: Terry x Gwen (reader)

SUMMARY: You and Terry have been broken up for 3 months. You’re injured in an accident and the hospital calls Terry to notify him and… surprise

TROPES: second chance; 

WORD COUNT: 4,074

“Ms. Daniels, please wake up”, a gentle voice eases me back into consciousness. My head feels like it’s being split open with a claw hammer. I blink slowly so that my eyes can adjust. 

When my eyes finally focus I look up to see a pretty lady in scrubs looking down kindly at me. 

“Welcome back Ms. Daniels. You had us scared there for a moment,” she says.

“What hospital am I in? What happened?” I say sitting up and holding my head. 

“You’re at Benson Memorial. You were in a bicycle accident. You’re fine just a few bumps and bruises. Your head CT was clear, so nothing to worry about there, ” she says handing me a cup of water. 

I take slow small sips as I try to recall the past few hours.  I never even saw that car coming as I crossed the road from one trail to the next. I hear muffled shouting coming from outside my room, and the doctor shoots a nervous glance my way. 

“Ms. Daniels, your boyfriend is outside and I don’t know how much longer he can wait”

I nearly choke on my water, “Boyfriend?”

I hear a commotion outside my door before the doctor/ nurse can open her mouth. 

“Nah, I’ve been here for two fucking hours and no one has told me how she’s doing yet! I’m going to see my girlfriend if you want to throw me out after then throw me out!”

I’ll never forget that voice. Terry is here. Now. He bursts into my room looking as good as ever but incredibly worried. When his eyes land on mine his shoulders sag with relief and he rushes to my side.

“What happened?! How bad are you hurt? Were you wearing your helmet?” He asks, his mouth running a mile a minute. I must be dreaming there’s no way Terry’s here we broke up 3 months ago after he came back from Shelby Springs. 

He came back different after trying to bail his cousin Mike out of jail. I tried to be there for him and provide all the support he needed but he just pushed me away. When I found out that he had been helping a girl named Summer, he completely shut down and wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give him an ultimatum so I told him that when he figured everything out to come and find me. Two weeks later I got a letter that absolutely broke me. 

“Why did they call you?” I asked looking at my doctor.

“He’s listed as the primary on your emergency contact list we have on file here”, she said motioning someone else in scrubs to come in. Another woman comes in holding an ultrasound machine and my heart stops.

“Is my baby ok?!” I ask immediately grasping at my stomach. 

“That’s why I needed to wake you. Ms. Daniels, we need your consent to do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can evaluate the status of your baby”, the doctor says remaining calm. 

I nod, “Of course, please do what you need to do”.

There’s a deep sigh to my right. I almost forgot that Terry was next to me. When I glance over at him he looks shocked and heartbroken. 

“I’m sorry I know I should’ve told you but you sent that letter the day I took the test and I didn’t know what to do”, I said right before the waterworks started, courtesy of your pregnancy hormones. Terry just looked at me his eyes softening but his trademark frown was still there. 

“Can you give us a minute please?” Terry asks the doctor.

She nods, “We’ll be right outside tap the door twice. We need to get this ultrasound done so the faster the better you two.” Then she’s out the door.

“So the baby’s mine?” Terry asks.

I nod my head, a fresh wave of tears coming. 

“I never meant to keep from you this long but you weren’t returning my calls and I couldn’t reach you. You didn’t leave a return address on the letters you sent, which ripped me apart by the way, and you just fell off the face of the earth Terry! I mean come the fuck on! I’m in love with you and finding out I’m having your baby just for you to dump us over a fucking letter!”, I’m out of breath, my chest heaving with anger.

He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “We don’t have the time to get into this now. We’ll talk later now please let the doctor in, I need this baby to be ok”, I say my eyes burning with unshed tears. Jesus everything makes me so emotional now, well let’s be real it wasn’t that different before I got pregnant. Terry looks at me, his eyes softening to that doe-eyed steel gray.

“Sure thing princess,” he says with a small smirk. Terry gets up and I bite my lip at the way his ass looks in his khakis. Has he gotten finer since I last saw him? He taps the door twice and almost immediately the nurse is back in the door, the doctor following in shortly after.  They set up all the equipment, I put my feet in the stirrups, and the doctor began her exam. 

“Aaaaand that is your baby’s heartbeat!”, the doctor says as she points to the disfigured blob that’s my baby.

“Terry look!” I say as I point my finger toward the screen. 

I turn my head to the right and I see a small smile on Terry’s face.

“That’s our baby?” he says all choked up. Two small tears fall out of each eye as he looks down at me. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I say reaching for Terry’s hand.

He grabs it and says, “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Home? Like my home or he’s just taking me to my house and that’s my home. 

“How did the hospital even get in touch with you?”, I ask as Terry drives us home. 

“I just got a new phone, same number,” he says eyes focused on the road.

“Oh, ok,” I say folding my arms across my chest.

“I already know what you’re thinking. I was going to call you, but a lot of what I have to say shouldn’t be said over the phone. I want a chance to explain myself. I never should’ve ended things the way I did. You deserve so much better than what I gave you and I can’t be any more clear when I say I’m so sorry. I fucked up.” 

“Ok when we get home I want to know everything”, I say gently. Terry looks my way and nods twice before looking back at the road. 

“Yeah, can I get two double cheeseburgers all the way with cajun fries please?” Terry says to the ‘five guys’ employee.

“Aww, you remember my order?” I say my face softening. 

“It’s been three months. Not three years. I didn’t forget baby” Terry huffed looking at me with that sexy-ass side-eye. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m supposed to be mad at you,” I say rolling my eyes. There’s no way this man has me in the palm of his hand in an hour and a half. I need to stand the fuck up. Terry grabs our food when they call our number and escorts us out of the restaurant.

He chuckles as we get back in the car and says, “Oh it’ll come back to you I’m sure.” I roll my eyes, looking at the scenery passing by. 

“You said ‘I can’t do this anymore Gwen. It’s not you it’s me.’ Terry, you have no fucking idea how much that hurt. How insignificant it made me feel. Like I wasn’t even good enough to break up in person so you use a fucking letter?” These pregnancy hormones are no joke I was thinking about mounting this man and now I’m going off on him. 

“Babygirl I’m so sorry. Please, when we get home I’ll finally be able to explain myself. Please don’t cry, baby I never meant to hurt you the way that I did. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I made my peace with this a long time ago Terry. Some people just aren’t meant to be together,” my voice breaks as I try to keep my emotions at bay. 

“I wanted us to work so bad I would’ve done anything to keep you, but I won’t do that anymore. I’m worth more than that. Our baby is worth more than that. I won’t have them question my love for them I’m going to show up for them every day because that’s what a mother does,” I take a few deep breaths to try and compose myself, but I can feel the dam start to break. I look over at Terry and he has a deep frown on his face. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and I can tell by his posture that he’s trying to keep his cool.

I unlock my front door to let Terry and myself in. He follows silently behind me. I can feel the tension radiating off him. Despite how he feels right now he still pulls out everything I need to eat and sets my place at the table. I wait for him to join me before I start eating. We eat in a tense, awkward silence before he breaks the spell of uncertainty around us.

“Mike’s dead.” I didn’t have to look up to see the pain on Terry’s face. The burning behind my eyes is instant.

“What do you mean dead? You were going to bail him out?!” I reached for my necklace. It’s a locket, Terry gave me after our first anniversary. A small heart-shaped photo of us sits inches from my heart every day. Terry took a deep breath before he went into detail. About Shelby Springs and its corrupt law system. How he almost died on multiple occasions. Who Summer was and how he couldn’t leave her fate in their corrupt hands. 

“I couldn’t leave until I knew I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I couldn’t involve you and potentially put you at risk. I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt, especially knowing what I know now,” the guilt evident in Terry’s voice as he buried his head in his hands. 

I feel the warmth of the tears as they glide down my face. My hand comes up to cover my mouth to stifle a sob. I rush to Terry’s side, wrapping my arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry Terry! You shouldn’t have had to deal with this all on your own. What can I do?” 

This whole situation is miscommunication at its finest. I grab Terry’s hand and lead him back to the room we used to share.

“I didn’t bring you back here to have sex. Take your shoes and shirt off and get on the bed.” I say kicking my shoes off. I crawl to the head of the bed and make myself comfortable before making grabby hands at Terry.  He crawled his way up the bed before laying his head on my stomach. I started giving him a scalp massage as he loaded everything he’d gone through while we were apart. When he finished we were both a mess. Terry lifts his head and my heart breaks at his expression. 

“I never wanted any of this. All I tried to do was save my cousin and instead, I lost him. I lost you, our baby. I’m alone now.”

I’m shaking my head before he can finish his sentence, “You didn’t lose Mike. In the physical sense yes but, he’s always with you Terry. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can put this behind you and move on. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this.”

“Together?” he looks like a scared sad little boy and it breaks my heart. I reach my hand down and caress his face. 

“Together Terry, all three of us,” you say as a fresh wave of tears begins. You were going to dehydrate at this rate with all the crying.

“Come on, we’ve had a busy day and I think a shower would do us some good,” you say sitting up. Terry sits up and scoots to the foot of the bed. I look at him and really notice how tired he looks. Like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders.

I make my way towards him and kiss his cheek, “Come on, your clothes are right where you left them. I’ll be in the bathroom when you’re ready.”

I grab one of Terry’s old ‘Marine’ t-shirts and boy shorts and head into the bathroom. I can’t believe this shit, no way this is real life. Poor Mike, poor Terry, and even poor Summer. 

I’m in the shower washing the dirt and leaves out of my hair when I hear the bathroom door open. I keep quiet continuing to wash my hair waiting for Terry to join me. I feel the cool air as he opens the shower door and steps inside. His arms wrap around my waist from behind and he rests his head on my shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry Gwen. You’re not unlovable. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I couldn’t come back unless I knew you were safe. I’ll be making this right for the rest of my life to you and our little bean,” Terry says as his hand migrates to my stomach. 

I turn in his arms wrapping my hands around his neck, “I’m not going to pretend that I’m ok with how you did everything but, I understand. I forgive you, Terry.  I did as soon as you burst through the hospital door,” I finish with a chuckle. 

Terry grips my face in his hands, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you and the baby how sorry I am. I wasn’t there when you found out and you have no idea how bad I wish I were. Every doctor’s appointment I’m there, you’ll never feel how you felt when you got that letter, Gwen. That’s a promise.” Terry’s eyes have that fierce determination in them. You know when he gets that way there’s no stopping him.

“Stop crying baby, I hate seeing you so upset,” Terry’s using his thumbs to wipe my tears. 

I shake my head, a watery laugh leaving my lips, “It’s hormones more than anything.” My eyes widen as Terry drops to his knees in the shower. His hands wrap around my hips. He presses his forehead to my belly and kisses the barely-there baby bump.

“Hey there little one. I’m your dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to find out about you. I’m here now. Daddy’s not going anywhere.” 

I could barely see Terry over the tears in my eyes. A watery smile forms on my lips when Terry lifts his head to look at me.

“What is it, baby?” he asks.

“Kiss me,” I say pulling him up to meet me.

Terry towers over me pressing my back against the shower wall—nothing but steam and unspoken confessions hanging in the air. 

“Are you sure, princess? I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for”, Terry’s face takes on that deep frown that’s so attractive to me.

“I’m sure Terry. You’re still in the doghouse but, that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you and I want us to be a family, so yes please kiss me.”

When Terry kisses me it’s like the world stops. An involuntary moan leaves my lips. It’s like we have all the time in the world. He kisses me slowly, deeply, all-consuming. 

“I forgot how good your lips feel, princess.” Terry’s eyes darken in color and I can almost read his mind. 

“I’m going to kiss you again ok?”, a small smirk makes its way onto his face as he crowds my space. 

“You’re not leaving any room for Jesus are you?” I ask chuckling.

“There’s been too much space between us the past three months. Prepare to be sick of me, baby girl.” Terry’s voice drops an octave and I can feel my ovaries crying. His hand glides down my front pausing over my barely-there baby bump.

“We’re going to be great parents,” I reach my hand for Terry’s face caressing his cheek. 

He smiles that megawatt smile of his and nods, “Without a doubt.” And then he kisses me again.  We’re a mess of lips, tongues, and teeth. My pregnancy hormones have me grinding against Terry’s leg like a dog in heat. 

“You missed Daddy huh?”, he asks placing his thigh in between my legs. He grabs my hips and slides me up and down the length of his thigh. The friction on my neglected clit is out of this world as I release a needy moan. 

“I can’t hear you. Do I need to stop?” Terry grips my hips forcing me to stop.

“No, no, no I miss you, Daddy! I do. Please don’t stop. I need this,” I grip his shoulders, leaving little crescent indents.

“Look at me, sweet girl. Tell Daddy what you want,” Terry says gripping my chin and lifting it to meet his eyes. 

I can barely put two words together and he wants me to tell him what I want. 

“I love it when your eyes get all dopey like this, you want Daddy inside you?” Terry’s lapping at my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I’ll have a time with my concealer in the morning but that’s not my concern at the moment. I reach for his wrist, bringing his hand down to my pussy, right where I want him. 

“Please Daddy I need you. I need this please,” my voice taking on a whiny pitch. Next thing I know the water’s being shut off and Terry’s opening the shower door. 

“There are things I want to do to you that can’t be done in the shower. Come on,” Terry says while wrapping me up in a towel before leading me out of the bathroom. 

“Ugh! Daddy don’t stop please!” My legs won’t stop shaking as Terry sucks the soul out of me. I lost count of how many times I’ve come already. I look down at Terry while he’s devouring my pussy. The sounds in this room are purely pornographic. 

He looks up at me through hooded eyes and moans the sound vibrating against my clit. 

“Ouuu Daddy yes!! Right there! Don’t stop!”, I’m a panting mess. I look down at Terry again and all I see are the whites of his eyes. 

“I forgot how good you taste baby. I can’t get enough mm!” You’d think Terry never ate a day in his life the way he’s eating me out.

“Terry I… I need you!” I squeal pushing his head away.  

He releases my clit with a small pop before sitting up on his knees. His eyes narrowed, “Now I’ll let you have that one ‘cause it’s been so long. Don’t do that shit again. I’ll finish eating when I finish. Understand?” Terry has my face in a vice-grip, my lips puckered.

“Yes Daddy,” I say, willing to do whatever he asks as long as he gives me that dick. I’d probably go rob a bank if he asked. 

“On your side, princess,” Terry says as he places a few pillows behind me.

I turn on my side and Terry’s right behind me kissing any skin he can get his hands on. 

“Fuck, I missed this. I missed your smell, your taste, your smile, your laugh, and even when you roll your eyes. Even though you know that’s five lashes automatically,” Terry says peppering my whole body in kisses. 

“I missed you too Daddy. Now are you going to show me how much, or do I have to get started without you?” I tease him by running my hands down my body. Terry playfully smacks my hands away before lifting my leg and sliding into me. 

We moan simultaneously as Terry starts to move, “Oh god! I forgot how big you are!” I moan as Terry bottoms out.  

My head falls back onto Terry’s shoulder, “I’m not going to last!” I squeal the burning already starting in my lower belly. It feels so good from this angle, Terry keeps hitting my g-spot with every thrust. 

“Come whenever you want baby. Daddy’s got you,” Terry breathes into my ear. The neighbors can probably hear squelching and moaning coming from my room but I really don’t give a fuck. If their man was digging their shit out like Terry was doing to me, they’d be screaming too. 

“No! Come with me please! I need it baby!” I moan trying to plant a kiss somewhere on Terry. He sees me struggling and bends his head to kiss me. He grabs my neck with one of is free hands, not hard enough to do harm but, just enough to give me that much more pleasure. 

“Open,” he says stilling inside me. I lean my head back a little farther, opening my mouth. Terry smiles deviously like the freaky devil he is and I watched dazed as a small glob of spit makes its way from his mouth to mine.

“Now swallow,” I do as he asks and open my mouth to show him it’s all gone.  

“Jesus, woman you’re going to kill me! Fucking love how nasty you get for me. Daddy’s little slut,” Terry groans. He slides out of me and I flop onto my back. 

“Come to mama,” I say grabbing his face and pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. I reach for his dick, wrapping my hands around it, and I feel him shudder. Terry moans as I give him a few slow strokes. 

“Get back inside me please. I need to come,” I wine.

“Again? Who made you so needy?” Terry asks smirking down at me. 

“You going to keep talking shit or remind me of how I got pregnant in the first place?” I ask. 

Terry grabs my throat almost instantly, “Who you think you’re talking to?”

He brings one of my legs up to his shoulder and I roll my eyes. Terry’s face darkens, as he bottoms out inside me for the second time.

“I told you I was going to let that shit slide. Now you pushing it,” he said as he begins to thrust. I’m grasping at air, that’s how good his dick is. 

“Aww look at you, getting fucked stupid. How’s it feel princess?” Terry taunts grabbing one of my hands interlocking our fingers. If I could talk I probably say something smart, but Terry’s right he’s fucking me stupid. I can’t put a single sentence together. 

“Huh what was that? Daddy can’t hear you.” A particularly hard thrust has me screaming, my orgasm hitting me out of nowhere. I feel myself soak the sheet and Terry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. My nails drag down his back, marking him up.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming, kiss me,” Terry moans. 

I grab the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine, but before our lips meet I whisper a quiet ‘I love you’. Our lips meet and we both moan as Terry fills me up. He stays inside me as I remove my leg from his shoulder. Both of us panting and staring at each other with awestruck goofy smiles. We have some work to do, but I can’t wait to see what this next chapter has in store for us.

THE END.

Annnnd that’s a wrap!! As always constructive criticism is appreciated but please be nice ‘cause I’m sensitive. I feel like I'm so bad at writing sex scenes, but I'm trying to get better. I really had fun writing this one. I anyone has any request DM me or ask anonymously. Until next time my little freaks <3

TAGLIST:

@blackgurlnhermoods

@dxddykenn

@kianaleani

@pinkkycherrish

@shallipii

@greatpandagladiator

@skyesthebomb

@theereina

Divider from: @puppizai

[abbyslvrrr]

Fade into you pt.2

Boxer!sevika x topside!reader

Finally done part 2! (it literally took me a whole month) I kept losing motivation to write BUT I FINALLY FINISHED TODAY!! Hope y’all like it! (I don’t think I’ll continue this tbh) I feel like this kinda sucks ass can’t lie.

WC: 1167

The following day, you couldn't stop thinking about Sevika and the interaction you had with her. The way she got so close to you, the way she looked as she was sitting there and smoking her cigarette. Ugh, you needed to stop thinking of her seriously! Are you actually considering going back? She told you she had a fight next week and you were off next week. 

"Just stop it!” You knew your parents would freak out if they ever found out you went to the undercity, let alone thinking about going back there, but why was the thought of not seeing Sevika making you feel so down? As the next week started approaching, you finally made your decision to go and see Sevika again; you couldn't shake her out of your head. The problem was, you didn't want to tell Sam about it, but you also didn't know your way around the undercity. God, this was going to be a mission. 

You decide to wear something cute this time around—a long-sleeve low-cut shirt and a cute black skirt. For shoes, you went with black combat boots. You do your hair and makeup, grabbing your phone and bag ready to head out, when all of a sudden your mother walks in. 

“Where do you think you're going, young lady?” She questioned you. Shit, what would you say?

"Um, im going to Sams, yeah. She's having a little girls night!” praying that she believed you, sometimes it blew your mind that as an adult your mother was still so stuck with you. You actually hated it, but you didn't say anything about it. Your mother nodded her head.

"Okay, be safe honey. Text me when you get home, okay?” she said as she hugged you and left you be. You sighed and went out. You kind of felt bad for lying to your mother, but it was whatever at this point. Stepping out of your house, you try your best to remember the way Sam took you, and you find yourself where she took you last time. 

As you walk your way over to the fighting ring, you can't help but feel eyes all on you. ‘Of course they'd stare; you literally look like you're from the topside.’ you say to yourself. You get there and see Sevika already in the ring fighting her opponent. You manage to get yours close enough to see her. 

The guy she is fighting is like 2x bigger than her, and yet she's so unfazed by it. He lands a hit on Sevika and knocks her back, but only for a second because she's right back and hits him back so hard he goes flying back. There's a small break that was called; Sevika looks into the crowd and manages to spot you. She thought you were so easily spottable; you see her and smile at her. You see the blood on her face, probably a bloody nose. She sends a wink your way, and you swear you passed out there. After the break, Sevika and the guy were at it again. He goes to hit him, but Sevika has him figured out this time and blocks his punch, and she knocks him to the ground; he stays there, probably passed out. 

Sevika is declared winner once again, and everyone goes crazy like last week. Sevika motions to the back, where the little room is. You make your way through the busy crowd and step into the room.

“You came, doll.” Her voice boomed; god, her voice was like fucking music to your ears. Why is she making you feel this way? You could listen to her voice all day.

"Yeah, I did come back; I don’t really know why.” Suddenly, your shoes became the most interesting thing in the world. A part of you wanted to get to know Sevika, possibly befriend her, maybe something more. But knowing that Sevika was from the undercity and a boxer, you knew it could never happen. Feeling a warm hand grab your chin gently and lift it up broke you out of your little trance. You are met with Sevika's eyes; god, you could get lost in those eyes of hers. She leans in a bit closer.

"Oh, you know why, doll, don't play stupid with me. You wanted to come see me; that's why you're here.” You hated how right she was. She pulled away from you and backed away. 

“Lets celebrate my win doll." She opened the door for you, and you walked out. The bar was crowded, and so was the dance floor; you felt a bit nervous about this not really being your scene. She grabbed your hand and dragged you to a table where a couple other guys were seated. She pulled you to that table sitting down; you sat beside her. 

Everyone looked a bit intimidating to you. Someone approaches the table and hands Sevika a drink; of course they would know what she liked. She fights here and celebrates here. Sevika chugs down her drink before looking at you. 

“So what do you usually drink? Something fancy?” The truth was you never really drank; when you did drink, it was just a small bit of wine or a little champagne. You didn't even know if you should drink anything tonight; I mean, how would you even go home? 

"Oh, I usually have a bit of wine, but I don't think I'll drink tonight.” You explain to her; she lets out a small chuckle. God,  she was perfect. No! You can't be thinking of her like that. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I figured as much; I don't think you'd find the best kind around here.” Sevika says as she starts on her second drink of the night. Hours go by and you have amazing conversations with Sevika; she tells you all about the undercity, and you tell her about Piltover. You knew that conditions down in the undercity were not great at all, and she was so passionate talking about her place here. You admired that about her. Hours pass, and before you know it, the time is 2330 and you have to leave. Sevika offers to take you at least halfway. 

Staying close to Sevika, you two begin the journey back. As you get closer and closer to where you need to go, Sevika asks you a question. “Would you want to come down again next week? "Uh, don’t have a fight, so we can maybe just spend the day together.” 

You put a hand on her bicep, smiling up at her, “Of course, Sevika. I’ll see you here again next week.” She pulls her phone out and gives it to you, typing in your number and saving it into her phone. You reach up and give Sevika a kiss on her cheek. “See you sev!" With that, you run off.

Sevika makes it her goal to get with you no matter what.

 

[maybefalsefacts]

The first time Logan saw Wade in drag, he thought someone broke into their apartment

Visually, Logan had no initial recognition.

Long blond hair. Big chest. Smooth skin. Tight dress. Tall boots. Long gloves.

Logan would have unsheathed his claws and tore the intruder to shreds for daring to invade his den.

Would have.

If not for those familiar baby blues staring out at him in shock and horror.

Logan knew those eyes. Knew them like he knew every star in the sky. Knew them like he could walk their apartment blindfolded and drunk.

Then he smelled the weird mix of makeup and hair products that came from the assortment of shoeboxes Wade kept on the top shelf of their closet.

Hanging up his jacket and toeing off his boots, Logan closed the door behind him. Stepping closer, he found the underlying scents of Wade's coconut body wash and the bitter smell of death that followed the merc everywhere.

Looking closer, Logan noticed the other details. Wade's waist. Wade's arms. Wade's thighs. Wade's fingers tapping irratically. Wade's breathing picking up.

Wade was frozen.

Logan was home early. Wade hadn't planned on getting caught. He hadn't wanted Logan to see.

Logan was... Confused. But, ever the supportive boyfriend, "You look nice. Going somewhere?"

As Wade buffered, Logan walked casually to the kitchen. He pulled a root beer (he was trying to cut back on real beer) from the fridge and snagged a piece of jerky from the fancy jar on the counter (it was too heavy for Puppins to move and she couldn't open it. Her dog treats were in the matching jar beside it).

Back in the living room, Logan got comfy in his recliner and raised an eyebrow at Wade.

Finally snapping out of it, he started messing with his dress and gloves. "Ummm... You're... Home early?"

Cracking open his root beer, "Yeah. Power outage in the shop. It won't be fixed till tomorrow, so they sent everybody home."

Wade nodded absently, looking anywhere but at Logan. "Makes sense."

Puppins lept up onto Logan's lap and he patted her absently. To Wade, he gently called, "Hey, you alright?"

Wade straightened, "What? Yeah! I'm great! I'm excellent. I'm-"

Sensing a long-winded ramble coming on, Logan cut him off, "Wade."

Wade flinched.

Logan waited.

When Wade's eyes finally found their way to his, Logan held out a hand.

Slowly, Wade stepped gracefully around the couch, heels clicking on the hard wood.

Pushing Puppins back to the floor and setting his drink aside, Logan gently pulled Wade down to sit on the arm of the chair. He put one arm around Wade's waist and the other brought those sexy black boots across his lap.

Though Wade came willingly, he chewed on his cherry-painted lips the whole time.

There were times when all Logan had to do was wait for Wade to talk. Let the other man ramble until he got to the real topic. This, clearly, was not one of those times.

Reaching up, Logan used his thumb to pull Wade's poor lip from between his teeth. Softly, "Do you want to tell me why you're getting all dressed up? Or just skip to me telling you that you didn't have to hide it?"

Wade's eyes met Logan's once more, full of disbelief and hope. "I... I know it's weird bu-"

Logan cut him off again, "No. Putting ketchup on your pancakes is weird. This is-"

"Disturbing? Disgusting? Gay? An insult to masculinity?"

Logan frowned, "I was going to say, this seems very important to you. Especially since you were so worried about my reaction that you didn't want me to know about it at all."

"Oh." Wade looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers. "Um..."

"Wade."

Wade flinched again.

"Does this make you happy?"

Wade continued to stare down at his hands. Eventually, he gave the smallest of nods.

Logan nodded too, like that settled the matter. Because it did.

"Well, then, go have fun. Go drink, or dance, or fuck around, or Femme Fatale, or whatever it is you do. And, when you come home, I'm going to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you smell mine again."

Wade blinked at him wide-eyed, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Logan was just... Letting him go? Sending him out? Like this? He wasn't disgusted? Or jealous? Or weirded out?

Completely overwhelmed by how amazing his boyfriend was, Wade leaned down and kissed Logan senseless.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Meat

Heeeeere we go again ( @ancha-aus come here friend )

Taking a break in posting art to post a fic lmao

First

Prev

Next

A new morning began, and Dust woke up with Killer's face right in front oh his, which resulted in the Roman getting punched in the nose as a reflex from Dust, who let out a higher pitched scream than he would have wanted to admit. Dust heard Killer yelp and bring his hands to his face, backing down.

- What the fuck are you doing in my room ?!

He yelled at the Roman whining on his floor, sitting up straight on his bed and pulling the covers to hide his body, which was more of a reflex than anything as he wasn't naked but in pajamas.

- Audivi te gementes... !

Killer tried to explain, but the door flung open before he could finish, and Cross entered, panicked, and, judging by his tilted helmet, woken up by Dust's scream.

- Avez-vos uns problesme ?!

Dust only recognized the word "problem".

- I've got a problem yeah, he's watching me sleep !

- Tu gementes !

Killer tried again, but Cross had already grabbed his arm to pull him out of the room despite Killer's attempt to resist.

Dust looked at them leave, letting go of his covers. What was Killer doing in his room ? What was he trying to say ? Dust doubted the Roman just came to watch him sleep, unless he was that creepy.

He sighed, getting up as he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, and put on his clothes before exiting his room. Killer was unhappily sitting by Cross's feet who was still holding his arm to prevent him from going anywhere.

- You can let him go, it's okay.

He sighed, gesturing at Killer. Cross looked at him for a moment before reluctantly letting go of his arm. Once freed Killer went straight to his corner, sitting down with his back turned, pouting. Dust would have to talk to him, but for now he had to open the bay window for Horror before he broke it by trying to open it himself, which reminded him that he had to go pick up the dictionary at the bookstore.

He let Horror in and let the window opened to bring some fresh air inside, he noticed that Nightmare was still asleep on the couch when he turned back around, he was laying on his stomach with his face burried in a pillow and one arm hanging from the couch. That couldn't be a comfortable position, how could he even breath like that ? ... Was he still breathing ? Dust stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out to press two fingers against his throat, he almost sighed in relief when he felt a pulse

- Opna.

Dust stood straight again when Horror talked from the kitchen.

- Huh ?

He really needed that dictionary.

- Opna.

Horror repeated, pointing at the fridge.

- You, uh.. want me to open the fridge ? You're hungry ?

Dust tried to guess, going to open the fridge to let Horror have a look inside. The Viking looked at the few items in the fridge, not touching anything, with a frown on his face. Was it not what he wanted ?

- You're not hung..

- Slátr.

He interrupted Dust. Cross looked at him.

- Slátr, er ?

He asked again, looking at Dust.

- I need my phone...

Dust finally answered, going in his room to grab his phone before coming back, turning the translator on for Horror to repeat once again what he said.

- Er slátr ?

"Where meat". He wanted to know where the meat was ? Dust didn't have meat, it was too expensive, he only bought some when it was on sale and he didn't find any last time he went shopping, so no, no meat. Dust shook his head, searching the word money at the same time.

- No slátr, no, uh.. penningr.. ?

His accent was awful. Horror frowned, but didn't answer, simply nodding and turning away from the fridge. Dust looked at him, thinking that he must have understood and closed the fridge door, going to the bathroom to wash himself rapidly. Horror wasn't inside anymore when he got out, but he didn't pay much attention to it, the bay window was opened after all, he was sureley in the garden.

Dust put on his shoes and went to the door, already on the Google Translate page to ask Cross to let him go out, but to his surprise it wasn't needed as Cross avoided his gaze and moved to the side to let him pass. Weird. Dust might need to adress that too when he came back.

The bookstore was a little farther than the grocery store, and Dust didn't want to waste time by waiting for the bus so decided to walk, not wanting to leave them all alone for too long without any distraction.

When Dust came back he saw Killer talking, or rather complaining, to Nightmare, who looked like he just woke up and really didn't want to have a conversation. He put the dictionary on the table before looking at these two, opening Google once again, feeling that he would need it. Killer stared at him, still very much unhappy judging by his frown, then he looked at Nightmare who sighed before speaking.

- Vous faisiez un cauchemar, il voulait s'assurer que le reste de votre nuit se passât bien.

Dust waited for the translation to appear, and, oh, he was having a nightmare and Killer wanted to make sure he slept well for the rest of the night, that was... actually quite thoughtful... he kinda felt bad about hitting him, kinda, because watching him sleep this close to his face was still a weird thing to do.

- Oh, uh.. thank you then.. ? Merci.. ?

- Gratis.

Nightmare simply said to Killer, who seemed to untense a little, but he still seemed to wait for more.

- And sorry for hitting you, I'm.. désolé, pour, uh.. frapper ?

He tried, but thankfully Nightmare understood.

- Ipse suus paenitet te malum facere.

Killer seemed satisfied, looking up to smile at Dust, before sitting next to Nightmare on the couch. Nightmare didn't look happy with that but decided against complaining, not wanting to argue right after waking up.

Dust grabbed the dictionary again, going to the garden to show it to Horror, only to not find Horror in the garden. Was he in the bathroom ? He went back inside, noting that Cross seemed more nervous than when he left earlier. Dust looked at him for a second, noticing the sweat drop and Cross's increasing nervousness the longer he stared at him.

- Cross where is Horror ?

Cross didn't answer, avoiding his gaze.

- Cross.

Just as Dust was about to ask again, the door opened, making both Cross and Dust flinch, and Horror entered, holding his axe with blood on the blade as well as on his hands and a few drops on his face, he had a carcass on his shoulder that he was holding in place with his free hand.

- Slátr.

Dust froze. Horror was outside, and he came back with an unidentified corpse, in plain daylight. He came back with a corpse ! Where did he find that corpse !? Was the corpse alive when he found it !? Of course it was, there was blood on his axe ! Who did he kill ? Did he kill someone ?! Someone's pet ?! It seemed too big to be a pet. Was it a human !? Dust really hoped he didn't kill a human, even if he did dislike them pretty much. Was he racist ? There were nice humans, some of his colleagues were humans and they were nice... now wasn't the time to think about his moral code, Horror just came back with a corpse and-

Meat. Yeah Dust could see it was meat. Wait, did Horror went to hunt for him because he told him he didn't have money for meat ? Well it was kind of him but he didn't have to, like, he really didn't have to.

Dust was speechless, what was he supposed to say ? What should one say when your roommate who came from another time period came back with a fresh corpse on his shoulder ? Google would probably tell him to call the cops, but Dust obviously wouldn't do that.

Horror frowned when Dust didn't talk, wasn't he happy ? He said he didn't have meat, so he went out and brought him some, didn't that please him ? Or was he just in shock ? Was it the first time he had meat in his life and that was why he didn't know what to say ? Well, in that case, he would need to cook it perfectly to make sure Dust's first time eating meat would be a great experience !

Horror pushed the door to close it, walking past Dust to go put his axe down against the wall, next to the couch on which Nightmare and Killer were sitting. Killer had a wide smile on his face, seeming very excited about the meat he just brought back, as for Nightmare... it was hard to say. He had glanced at the axe when Horror put it down, and was now staring at him, his gaze planted in his eyesockets, his hand was firmly gripped on his cape, his breathing louder, but appart from that he didn't seem scared, he seemed more... mesmerized ? It was strange, and Horror decided not to think about it for now, he had meat to cook.

And to cook meat, he needed a fire, which meant he had to go in the backyard and collect some branches and leaves, anything that could catch fire.

Dust quickly ran to the backyard once he came back to his senses, looking at the big piece of meat on the outside table and at Horror who was visibly preparing material to make a fire. He wanted to say something, ask him where the meat came from, but his stomach growled at that moment, making Horror look up at him. And he smiled. A knowing smile. He knew he couldn't afford meat, and he knew he was hungry, so he went out and brought back meat. Maybe Dust didn't really want to know where the meat came from.

- I'll go grab a lighter.

He finally said, going back inside to take one of his many lighters, he quite smoking because the cigarettes were too expensive, so now he just had an army of lighters all scattered in his appartment.

He just sat behind Horror while he cooked above the fire. As unseasoned as the meat was, it smelled delicious, so much that he could have cried if he wasn't holding it back, not wanting to worry the Viking.

They all ate outside, and a few tears did come out as Dust bit into the hot ribs. It was just so good, to finally have meat in his plate, fresh meat that wouldn't expire in two days because it was on sale.

That, and not eating alone, even if the group was weird, he felt good, sitting outside with them, the warmth of the fire behind him, listening to them trying to understand each other and laugh at the poor pronunciation of the others when they weren't doing better themselves...

Yeah, Dust felt good, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel so lonely anymore...