#no fluff just angst

[hellishattempt]

gojo's undercut this, gojo's undercut that

why is nobody talking about nanami's undercut

PLEASE SIR I JUST NEED FIVE MINUTES

[prlssprfctn]

Damian wakes up, startled. He doesn't remember what he saw in his dreams, and he is not sure what caused him to feel so anxious, but he knows what to do. The routine is easy and comforting; he just needs to find his brother Jason. So, he goes.

His bare feet against the cold floor is soundless, making no sound, and he keeps rubbing his eyes until he sees one of the doors open. It must be Jason. He always keeps the door of his room open, just in case.

There is a dim light in the room, a small lamp on the desk, where the stakes of paper are stored, and Jason is here, as tall and huge as always, tapping on his feet in an attempt to concentrate, while twirling a pen between his fingers. He is either reading or working on something else: writes down memories, afraid of them slipping away due to the Lazarus Pit hammering in his temples all the time.

Damian yawns and steps closer, tapping on his back.

'Akhi Jason,' he calls hoarsely. The body freezes, almost surprised — he is not supposed to; Jason hears him from the corridor, even if he is the most soundless kid in the whole world. 'I want to sleep.'

He never says he sees nightmares or that he is scared — just that. It always works.

Expect, this time it doesn't.

'What did you say?' Brother asks, his voice sounding so unusually stiff.

'Jason,' he repeats, more irritated this time. 'I said, I want to—'

When Jason turns around, Damian instinctively staggers back, his eyes widening.

The man in front of him is not Jason.

And for a second, Damian is panicking, until-

Until he doesn't remind himself that he is not home anymore. He is in the Wayne Manor, with his father.

With his father that looks exactly like his brother, only older, without scars, marring his face, and without a white streak that makes him look like a bird.

'Damian,' his father calls, slightly shaken. 'How do you know Jason?'

He swallows down. He is not supposed to tell about his brother. They instructed him not to.

But father has a familiar desperation in his eyes, the same one Jason had, when he was pacing around the room, muttering something incoherent, the cut out from newsletters photos of Bruce Wayne with Tim Drake in his hands, and-

And Damian shrugs.

'He is my brother,' he says, almost too innocently; because if he is going to be clueless about it, then what others will have to tell him? 'He stayed with a grandfather. It is a shame.'

Almost as if he doesn't understand what all of this implies.

'I was sleepy,' he adds. 'And got confused. My apologises, father. I shall return to my bedroom.'

Bruce stares, stares, and stares. And then, rubs his face with his hands, exhausted.

'I'll tuck you in. Let's go,' and a second later, with his voice sounding so familiarly small, just like how Jason's sounded when he first acknowledged him as his brother, he adds: 'Can you tell me more about your brother, Damian?'

And Damian tells him, of course.

He is not surprised to see the result of his work the next week.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

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@icaqttt

[kamaluhkhan]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 14.6k summary: you and vi are both tired of complicated relationships so try the whole friends-with-benefits thing....and maybe forget the whole point of your arrangement in the first place. warning: lesbian situationships (there is so much angst and yearning), brief mention of (internalized) homophobia and struggles with addiction....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and smut [oral (vi receiving), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, slight bondage play, switch!vi has my heart] (18+) ! a/n: merry (belated oops) xmas girls and gays <33 i've probably spent way too much time on this but it's my BABY....kinda based on leighton and alicia's plotline in s1 of sex lives of college girls and ofc casual by chappell roan (there are many other chappell references throughout too hehe). also yes i made a mini playlist that consists of the songs that i think reflect this fic's sun, moon, and rising signs....pls enjoy and happy holidays !!!

♪: "angel baby" by troye sivan (sun); "pretty girl" by hayley kiyoko (moon); "casual" by chappell roan (rising)

“not even one week into the new academic year, violet rose atlas, captain of the varsity soccer team, has been suspended from gameplay due to recent unsportsman-like behavior, sentenced to 100 hours of community service, and banned from the local lesbian bar.” 

mel removes her eyes from the screen to raise an eyebrow at you. you just shrug and take a sip of your coffee. you glance over at the clock on the wall. 

11:09am. 

“to top it all off, she’s late,” you declare, trying your best to hide the anticipation simmering in your stomach.

“what’s your deal, anyways? you totally flirt with her whenever she’s at the bar. not even we get that good of service,” gert points out. they’re searching through a stack of cd’s and cassette tapes for something to play. 

“that was before.” 

you walk over to sit next to gert, taking it upon yourself to choose the music. you settle on jagged little pill; alanis morrissette’s lush voice is a welcomed addition to your conversation.

“our funding is at risk,” you explain. “it’s like the dean assigned her to us because she knew it would end terribly and the board would have an excuse to finally cut us loose.” 

“if they need an excuse, they’ll find one,” gert grumbles.

you shrug. “i just think violet is bad news, which is something i’d prefer we avoid..”

“the article does say that she punched maddie nolan in the face during an exhibition game against the piltover knights.”

“see? bad news. literally.”

“well, i think we lucked out,” sky gushes, though her focus remains on finishing her current project. she’s crocheting so fast that you only catch glimpses of her sparkly pink fingernails. you’re sure she’ll be done with this blanket before violet shows up. if she even bothers to show up. “the yellowjackets might’ve lost their captain, but we get to spend quality time with the hottest butch on campus.”

“whatever,” you sigh, though you don’t disagree with that description. you check the clock again — 11:11am — and settle against the worn couch. “since we have the time — mel, why don’t you read our horoscopes? i’m itching to see what the universe has in store for us today.” 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi spent the better part of last night crying and getting wasted in her bathtub with cheap dye burning into her scalp. 

she just couldn’t stand the memory of caitlyn kiramman’s perfectly manicured nails running through her formerly pink locks as they kissed, tugging on vi’s hair to bring her closer —

enough. fucking pull yourself together. 

cait’s moved on, that much is clear, with someone more like her. someone whose last name is on buildings all around the university of piltover’s campus.

so far, no amount of bar fights or red cards or late nights in some random girl’s bed seem to mend the heart that caitlyn shattered to pieces, but vi doesn’t give up easy.

soon enough, she’ll be back on the field, leading the yellowjackets to victory at nationals; she’ll finish all her classes, graduate with honors and have a great plan for an even greater future; all while having amazing, mind-blowing sex that won’t lead to serious heartbreak.

relationships are overrated, anyways. 

the first step in this plan: spending 100 hours with a bunch of angry, bra-burning lesbians.

maybe vi will fit right in.

so, vi walks into her community service assignment with a wicked migraine and hands that look like lady macbeth plotted to murder an oil spill, but with her usual confident swagger nonetheless, as conversation echoes down the hallway.

“according to your rising, there will be a much needed spark in your romantic life. my guess is a fire sign is gonna sweep you off your feet.”

another voice chimes in, a gentle rumble. “could that be your sweet jules?” 

“i’ve never asked about her chart,” an achingly familiar voice replies. it brings back memories of dizzying lights and strong whiskey coursing through her blood, but something else, too. a sky full of stars and too-sweet alcohol on her tongue. “paula was a fire sign, though, and that blew up in my face.”

“paula was a walking red flag.”

“yeah, well, apparently red’s my favorite color.”

“maybe that was just the heartbreak you needed to bring passion back into your life. do you feel that with jules?”

“i don’t know — maybe? we haven’t had sex yet.” 

“passion isn’t just about sex, you know —”

“gert, i love you, but i cannot handle a sex therapy session right now.”

someone else giggles, bright and bubbly. “hm, i wonder what sign our pink-haired hottie is.” 

vi clears her throat to announce her arrival, leaning against the doorway.

everyone turns to look at her then, with varying degrees of shock, and vi feels like she’s just walked into an after midnight roommate vent session.

she isn’t sure what she expected the space to look like, but zaun university’s women’s centre is well-lived in, defined by a sort of organized chaos. each wall is covered in posters and collages, multicolored flags and fairy lights; there’s a shelf in the corner with assorted trinkets and books piled high, a table next to it with baskets of condoms, pads, and tampons and informational pamphlets, and a door in the opposite corner, slightly ajar. a vintage boombox placed on the coffee table plays 90s alt rock, circled by mismatched seating with patterned blankets and brightly colored pillows strewn about.

someone with dark lipstick and an eyebrow piercing is drawing on their converse; a dark brunette wearing glasses is draping a blanket over the arm of a couch; another person is scrolling on their laptop, a gold necklace glittering on their collarbones. 

vi’s attention is stuck on you, though, the origin of the aforementioned familiar voice: the very hot bartender from sappho’s, where vi happened to be kicked out of not even 72 hours prior. 

you’re wearing a vintage wonder woman t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans with a carabiner clipped to a belt loop. the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up, displaying your array of tattoos — vi’s already decided that her favorites are joan of arc holding her sword, a pomegranate that’s been cracked open, and lyrics from bikini kill’s ‘rebel girl’ (which admittedly, vi had to look up when she first saw). it’s everything vi’s booze-soaked brain had apparently memorized after many nights of staring at you across the bar counter, licking up whatever honeyed flirtations you’d spill from your lips. vi always noticed your hands, too: the many rings you’ve stacked on your fingers, the lavender sprig sprouting from your middle finger and venus symbol etched onto your wrist, the nails that are always clipped short and painted black. 

one of those nails is tapping anxiously on your coffee mug, which has a picture of hayley kiyoko as lesbian jesus.

“pink-haired hottie, reporting for duty. though, i might need a new nickname.” vi grins; you roll your eyes. “i’m an aries, by the way.”

“good to know.” the brunette winks not-so-subtly in your direction before walking towards vi and extending a hand, gold bangles clinking together at the motion. “i’m sky, she/her. we had electromagnetic theory together last spring. it’s lovely to officially meet you.”

vi makes a big show of leaning down and kissing sky’s hand.

“nice to meet you, too, sweetheart.”

“such a gentleman,” sky giggles and leads vi to the patchwork couch. she curls up like a cat, and vi follows suit — the couch is cloud soft, and vi tries not to sink into the cushions. “i’m our supplies and communications coordinator.” she turns away from vi to look around the room. “okay, that’s my intro. who’s next?”

the person with an eyebrow piercing nods at vi, a sort of effortless greeting. “gert, they/them.” they snap the sharpie shut after writing ‘the future is intersectional’ on the tip of their toe. “i curate and design our newsletter, the black rose. i’m also in a band —”

“the sirens of zaun. yeah, i recognize you. you’ve played a few gigs at sappho’s.” 

vi looks at you pointedly, and you take this as your cue to disappear behind the door, which appears to lead into some sort of office.

gert seems pleased, though. “then you might also recognize our lead singer….”

the person with the gold necklace, who vi does, in fact, vaguely recognize but can’t quite name, closes their laptop and waves at vi. “i’m mel. pronouns: she/her. i mostly deal with the finances around here. and, from what i understand, you’re already well acquainted with our fearless leader —”

mel is cut off by the sound of her phone alarm. 

“shit — it’s already 11:30. our set at campus radio starts soon.” mel gestures at gert. gert picks up the bright red guitar case behind them and secures it around their shoulder as mel packs up her leather satchel. 

“damn, i gotta get to class, too. the space-time continuum waits for no one.” sky gets up and gathers her things, too, stuffing yarn into a fruit-printed tote bag. “it was nice meeting you though.” she pats vi’s head affectionately before throwing out a loud: “see ya later, boss!”

mel and gert offer similar farewells, and you shout goodbye from the other room before the three of them are out the door. vi expects you to reappear a few moments later; when you don’t, she ventures into the office.

it’s smaller, but just as decorated as the lounge space. there’s a desk that seems to be more storage than actual use, littered with piles of books and old copies of the black rose. you’re sitting on a fluffy rainbow carpet that looks like every member of sesame street stitched together, writing something in a sticker-covered notebook. 

“so, violet —”

“vi’s fine,” she tells you. she decides to sit on the floor next to you rather than the zebra striped chaise lounge.

you nod, rip a page out of your notebook, and hand it to vi. there’s something a bit too intimate about knowing what your handwriting looks like before even knowing your name. 

“this is a run down of everything you’ll need to know, but real quick: we do feminist film fridays and trivia tuesdays on alternating weeks; our radical reads book club meets once a month, along with our slam poetry group, and we have a bunch of other events in between — workshops, art builds, discussion groups, and so on. sky keeps everything in the centre stocked, and occasionally the rest of us will pitch in when organizing a charity drive. our newsletter publishes the third wednesday of every month — gert puts it together, but we print in pairs since it could be a lot of work for one person. we have team meetings once a week to share updates, make sure we’re all on the same page, stuff like that. any questions?” 

“wow, okay. that’s a lot.”

you smile. “i’m sure you’ll be able to keep up, varsity.” 

“so….where do i fit in?” 

“that depends on you, really,” you tap your glitter gel pen on your notebook, thinking. “like, i’m assuming you’re not well versed in feminist literature.”

vi puffs out her chest. “based on what assumptions? i’m not a dumb jock.”

“yeah, i know you’ve made the dean list ever since your freshman year.” 

vi raises an eyebrow. “keeping tabs on me, wonder woman?” she teases. 

you laugh. “don’t flatter yourself. sky’s the one who mentioned it to me. so, unless you mean your very large, unpaid tab at sappho’s...”

“the bar i was kicked out of, you mean.”

“well, yeah, because you —” you take a deep breath. “not the point. anyways, we don’t have a complete schedule for book club, so you can maybe take the lead on one of our meetings. do you have a favorite author?” 

vi smiles at you sheepishly. “ah…..you got me there.”

“thought so,” you smirk and vi covers her blush. “if you’re curious, this bridge called my back is a good place to start. oh, and audre lorde is a classic and a personal favorite…..” you pause when you catch vi staring at you. she wants you to keep talking, to appreciate the way your eyes light up so enthusiastically, but you blink away, and a veil of professionalism falls back onto you. “sorry. anyways, we’re having trivia tomorrow — would you be able to help us out with that?

vi nods. “sure.”

“sweet.” you check your phone. “i’ve got a coffee date, so i should get going.”

“wait — you never told me your name, wonder woman.”

“well, it’s not diana prince,” you quip before finally introducing yourself. 

“nice to finally put a name to the face.” vi winks at you, standing up. she extends a hand to guide you up. your hand is cold against her skin, your metal rings even colder.

“i’ll see you around, varsity.” before you’re out the door, you turn back around. “oh, and vi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t be late.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you had stepped away for a quick smoke break — a habit you knew you had to kick — but you’re so fucking drained and it’s only wednesday. 

you were up all night bickering with your girlfriend. it started with her admitting that she really doesn’t want to meet your friends, which transitioned into her asking you to not talk to anyone about her or your relationship, which prompted you to make a (maybe slightly insensitive) comment about how she’s welcome to stay in the closet but has no right to push you back in. 

needless to say, you did not get any sleep.

you’re about to walk outside, and finally get a moment of peace, when your phone rings. it’s your sibling, and the fact that they’re calling instead of texting tells you that this conversation is about to be (A) exhausting, (B) infuriating, or (C) both.

the correct answer is C.

it’s the same story over and over again: your dad drinks too much, your mom is absent. it hadn’t been this bad when you were growing up, but you suppose you’d been around to ease the damage, or at least step in and take care of your sibling as needed. 

“just — take a deep breath. you can come stay with me for the weekend, okay? it’ll be good for you to get away from the chaos for a bit….we’ll go apple picking if the weather’s nice, maybe start working on your halloween costume — whatever you wanna do.”

“you know, i’m not five anymore,” they mumble, stifling a small laugh along with some tears. “but…okay. that sounds nice.”

you smile to yourself, shoulder pressing against the door. “it’s a plan then. we’ll sort out the details later. and, don’t worry about mom and dad — i’ll take care of it. love you.” 

you hang up and exhale as you finally push the door open, happy to finally get one moment to breathe.

except, just as you’re greeted by a crisp breeze on this beautiful late september evening, you’re also greeted by the sight of vi pressing someone against the brick wall, their legs wrapped around her waist as she kisses their neck.

something ignites in your abdomen, familiar after many nights of seeing vi at the bar, charming her way into another woman’s bed. except, it’s definitely not jealousy, this time.

(okay, maybe it is; but only a bit.)

they spring apart upon hearing the door slam closed. you recognize who vi’s with — maya, a sophomore who’s frequently attended women’s centre events since last year. she’s always been friendly with the team, but never this friendly.

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry!”

“you don’t have to apologize,” you tell her sincerely. her cheeks are flushed, and she’s busy smoothing down her skirt, clearly trying to distance herself from vi, who’s leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “i just need to talk to violet, so do you mind giving us a sec?”

you wait until maya disappears inside to cross your arms and glare at vi.

“so, it’s violet now, huh?” she teases, wiping red lipstick off her smirk.

“you were supposed to be helping facilitate this workshop,” you note. 

“well, it is a queer sex ed workshop.” vi rolls her eyes. “i was giving maya a hands-on experience.”

you grit your teeth together. “and you just had to do that now? like you just had to go down on that third year during trivia last week?”

“well, see, i don’t have a ton of free time, and since i’m not allowed at the local lesbian bar….” she trails off, looking at you pointedly. “i’ve had to resort to multi-tasking.”

“multi-tasking.” you let an exhausted, bitter laugh slip from your lips. “you’ve showed up late to every single event in the past few weeks, and once you’re there, you’re either on your laptop, getting drunk, or hooking up with someone. tell me, violet, as captain of the yellowjackets — if someone on your team was acting like this, what would you do?”

vi narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking, and admits, “i’d call them out, tell them to do better.”

“right. and if they kept giving you empty promise after empty promise? you’d have to do something more drastic, even if you didn’t want to, yeah?”

no response.

shaking your head, you take out a cigarette. there’s only silence when you flick the lighter open and light it between your lips. you inhale deeply, letting the smoke enter your lungs, exhale slowly, and decide: “i’m gonna ask the dean to reassign you.”

“fine by me,” vi scoffs, but you swear that something close to disappointment flashes across her face. “clearly, this isn’t working out.”

“clearly.” you take another drag of your cigarette, and as vi walks back inside, you can’t help but try to get under her skin. you’ve had a bad week, between family drama and turbulence in your relationship with jules, and you’re just sick of people not giving a shit. “the year’s already started, so i doubt there’s something available. which means you’ll remain on academic probation until spring.”

and, okay — you do get some twisted satisfaction in how that makes vi stop in her tracks. you’re leaning against the wall, and she strides over to stand in front of you, her jaw and fists clenched.

“i’ll miss the whole tournament.”

you shrug, and blow smoke in her face. “i’ve given you plenty of chances.”

“but the team needs me —”

“you should have thought of that before you fucked up, varsity,” you snap. vi’s eyes widen; you’re usually more level-headed. “you’re cocky, irresponsible  — ”

“i lost my scholarship,” vi blurts out, prompting you to pause, the cigarette millimeters from your lips. 

you blink at her, blood still roaring in your ears.

“i…don’t know why that’s relevant.”

vi just sighs, so deeply that you feel it in your bones. you haven’t seen this side of her before — no flirtatious smile, no overconfident posture. instead, she slips to the ground, knees pressed to her chest. feeling a bit guilty for pushing her buttons, you slide down next to her. you offer her the cigarette, but she shakes her head.

“i…i’m going through a shitty breakup. i’ve been lashing out, and i lost my scholarship. i haven’t asked my parents for money, because the last thing i want is for them to worry about me. so, i started picking up these odd jobs to make ends meet, and the hours are a bit crazy so between school and practice and — fuck, there’s also shit going on with my sister that i won’t even get into now, but it’s a lot — and i also need to do this because i let my team down and i need to be there for them, whatever it takes, and i’m just so fucking —”

“exhausted, yeah.” 

you can see more clearly now — the slump in her shoulders, the shadows underneath her eyes; you see her more clearly. you realize that you might have more in common with violet rose atlas than you initially thought.

“so the laptop —”

“finishing assignments.”

“the drinking?”

vi juts her chin out at your smouldering cigarette. “we all have our vices.”

“and the sex?”

her lips curl into a sheepish grin, and she shrugs. “we all need to relieve stress.”

you clear your throat, blinking away from her gaze and trying to ignore how you can feel warmth radiating from her body, so close to yours. “right.”

vi runs her hand through her tar-black hair. that should have been your first hint — nothing says lesbian breakup more than terribly dyed hair and questionable decisions. 

“look, i know i can’t do everything, but i have to, and i’m still trying to figure out how.”

“well….as far as excuses go, it’s not the worst,” you admit. “thanks for telling me. i know that couldn’t have been easy.” you take a deep breath and get to your feet. “i stand by what i said earlier, though — this isn’t working out. you just can’t tell us that you’ll be helpful and not follow through. it means a lot, to a lot of people, that there’s a space like this on campus. mel, gert, sky— they all work so hard to make that happen, and that’s something i need to protect. i’m sorry.”

“wait.” vi grabs your wrist before you can leave. “i’m sorry. really, i am. i promise to do better.”

“you’ve made that promise before,” you point out. “why should i believe this time will be different?”

“because…you’re right. i’ve been too caught up in myself, in what i need, in what my team needs. i can see that you really care about your team, though, and i should have respected that. they’re — you’re — amazing, everything that you do to make people feel safe and heard and loved. i’m sorry for taking that for granted.”

wow. okay. 

you did not expect that. you’re hoping that vi can’t feel your pulse quicken at her words, but you’re glad that she’s holding on to you, keeping you steady.

“yeah, well…flattery’s not gonna get you far.” you clear your throat. “but, you’re obviously going through a lot right now, and it can drive you crazy, feeling like you’re the one who —”

“has to keep everything together,” vi finishes, sliding to the ground once more. you follow. “seems like i’m cracking under pressure, this time. fucking everything up.”

“you’ve got a reckless streak.”

“must be the aries in me,” she laughs, softly. “apparently it’s my Ieast attractive quality. along with my stubbornness and selfishness.”

“well, i don’t think that’s the whole picture,” you assure her. vi looks at you incredulously. “i won’t lie and say that your actions aren’t….thoughtless sometimes. you’re more self-centred than selfish—”

“hey!” 

“but you obviously feel some sense of responsibility, for your team, your family, for what you think is right. hell — the reason my boss asked me to kick you out is because you started a bar fight with that frat boy who was insisting he had the right dick to set lesbians straight.”

vi scoffs. “asshole.”

“i was about to throw him out, but you beat me to the punch. literally.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, and she chuckles. “and, yeah, you’re stubborn, which can be annoying, but it also means that you’d never give up, that you’re willing to keep trying despite the odds, so….” 

“so….?”

vi’s looking at you with the widest, softest eyes. fuck, you never expected her to be this gentle, so much so that it you want to melt to her every need. 

“i’m hoping third time’s the charm, varsity.”

vi smiles, the most sincere one she’s probably ever given you, and the scar on her lip stretches; for all your talk about responsibility, there’s a part of you who’d risk pushing your already tenuous relationship with your girlfriend to its breaking point just so you could kiss vi, guilt-free, just once. maybe you have a bit of a reckless streak, too.

“thanks, wonder woman. you won’t regret it.”

yeah. you kind of already do.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi would never admit it, but one reason she fought to keep her community service assignment here is because she wanted to keep seeing you. 

she likes getting under your skin, seeing those pretty eyes roll whenever she strides in late for a meeting, that kissable jaw clench any time you catch her tangled up with someone else. 

it almost makes up for all those nights at sappho’s you’d spent flirting back and forth, some sort of unspoken agreement between you to never go further.

sometimes, it’s just nice to have a crush in your back pocket, to know that they’ll always be there to admire and admire you back while others come and go.

the more time you spend together, though, the more vi realizes that you’re not just a fictional character in her head, in a fantasy she pictures before bed — no, you’re tangible.

vi watches as you bring special tea for gert when their period cramps are particularly painful; she listens to you console mel after another fight with her mother and offer advice to sky when she was hoping to ask out her lab partner. vi notices how you prefer your coffee with a dash of cinnamon; and she learns that you had your first kiss with a girl in your freshman year journalism class, and that your first tattoo was done by the same person. a stick-and-poke star on your ankle.

she can hear your laugh, feel the cool metal of your rings brush against her skin accidentally when you’re squeezing past her in a crowded room, smell your perfume when you hug her goodbye. you have stories and quirks and expectations and opinions that vi subconsciously files away as she gets to know you better.

you’re not just a crush, anymore. 

you’re a friend. 

vi likes having you as a friend. really — she does!

you’re a friend who makes vi’s heart jump at the sight of your name on her phone. a friend who smirks when vi blushes after you tell her she has the prettiest cheekbones you’ve ever seen. a friend who mentions this vibrator that gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, so vi orders the same one and maybe still pictures you before bed, imagining that you’re using it at the same time. except someone else might be next to you.

yeah, vi’s pretty sure you’re dating someone, but that’s something she hasn’t gathered enough information on. 

not that it matters. she wouldn’t be interested in anything serious, anyways, after the mindfuck that was her relationship with caitlyn, and the damage she’s still having to heal from.

though, if that hadn’t happened, vi would have never gotten into a fight with maddie nolan, the second striker for the piltover knights, who taunted her during an exhibition game about how caitlyn is so much happier now that she isn’t disgracing herself with a filthy zaunite. vi would have never been banned from the first half of the tournament and chewed out by coach sevika for fucking up the yellowjackets’ chance at nationals. 

vi would have never been put on academic probation and assigned to 100 hours of community service, either.

she certainly wouldn’t have been here, now, in the women’s centre office close to midnight on a tuesday, folding the most recent issue of the black rose when you walk in.

“oh. hey, v.” you drop down on the zebra-striped couch, your tote bag falling to the ground. “i thought sky was gonna be here tonight.”

vi shakes her head, removing one earbud and letting it dangle from the cord. “she’s got this huge chem report due tomorrow, had to meet up with viktor to get it done.”

“right…” you sigh and lie back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. a few moments pass, and there’s only your steady breathing. “what are you listening to?”

your eyes are closed when vi settles in next to you. it’s a relatively tight fit, but it doesn’t seem like either of you particularly care. vi gently places an earbud in your ear.

you snort, opening your eyes. “you could have just said the cranberries.”

“i’m surprised you recognize them,” vi quips. “it’s not your usual angry girl music.”

“well, sometimes people surprise you. this is actually one of my favorite songs,” you explain. “it’s in one of my favorite movies, too.”

“you’ve got mail?”

you furrow your brows. “when harry met sally.”

vi shakes her head. “no, ‘dreams’ is definitely in you’ve got mail. but, i agree that when harry met sally is a better movie.”

“you’ve watched nora ephron movies and enjoyed them?”

“well, sometimes people surprise you,” vi teases. “i can appreciate a good love story as much as the next person.”

you let out a short, airy laugh. you tilt your head and you’re so close to vi that you’re practically exchanging the same breath. your eyes land on her lips for a millisecond, and vi starts to lean in before you sit up abruptly. 

“i could use some alcohol.” you climb over vi and go to the desk, pull out a half empty bottle of fruit-flavored soju from a drawer. you grab two mugs — the hayley kiyoko one, and another with frida kahlo. you stop short of pouring, looking to vi. she nods. 

soon enough, you’ve got your legs strewn along vi’s lap, sipping lychee infused alcohol. 

“can i ask you something?”

“anything,” vi answers, squeezing your calf.

“why’d you and caitlyn break up?” the question hangs in the air for a second before you add: “if you don’t wanna talk about it though, i understand.” 

shit. it’s definitely not vi’s favorite topic of conversation, but….

“i think she thought that i was one of the good ones, that regardless of the way i grew up or the blood that coursed through my veins, i would be her perfect little charity case. people would be like: future president kiramman definitely cares about the poor — just look at the broke angry lesbian she’s turned into her docile wife!” 

you suck in a sharp breath. “fuck that.” 

“yeah,” vi laughs sadly. “the worst part is that she wanted me to be vulnerable with her, so i was, because i thought the more i opened up, the more she’d love me, but, in the end….i was too messy. i was too much.” 

vi hates the lump that starts to build in her throat, the tears that threaten to spill. she cannot cry in front of you —

you grab her hand. your skin is cool against hers, and it eases her quickening heartbeat.

“you’re not too much, v.” your voice soothes her like honey, trickling down her throat. “it sucks, though, when they ask you to rip your heart out of your chest and get mad at you for bleeding out in front of them.”

“shit, i never thought of it so…viscerally, but that’s exactly what it feels like.”

“well you’re not a creative writing major,” you quip. “i know it still hurts — trust me, i know — but your heart was never hers if she treated you that badly. you deserve more.” 

is it the alcohol messing with her brain, or does it look like you want to kiss her?

fuck. 

vi clears her throat. “why’re you asking?”

you pull your hand away, take a sip of your drink. “jules broke up with me a few days ago.”

you’re single now. good to know. 

“what happened?”

“i caught her kissing someone at a bar. a boy.” you roll your eyes. “maybe she just wasn’t ready, which is fine, but when we had it out, she told me that what we had isn’t what romance is supposed to feel or look like, which sucked. especially after being so….vulnerable with her.”

“you offered her that bleeding heart of yours, didn’t you?” 

you click your tongue, pouring some more soju into each mug. “course i did, v. and it didn’t mean anything in the end. because relationships suck.”

“i’ll drink to that.” 

you cheers, keeping eye contact. 

“and you know what?” you take a big, long gulp. “i know that relationships aren’t just about sex, but i’ve been having to get myself off for months now and sometimes, i just want someone else to —”

“take care of you?”

vi sips her drink, watching you mull over her words.

“not sure if i’d put it like that,” you decide. “i just miss that excitement. when another person wants to discover what makes you feel good, and wanting to learn how to make them feel good, too. i miss having that connection with someone.” 

“i’m guessing you didn’t have that with jules, then.” 

“ha! no. and paula…the girl i dated before….let’s just say, she didn’t give a shit whether i felt good, in any sense.” you shift in your seat; vi senses there’s a story there, but she doesn’t push. “how about future president kiramman — she take care of you?”

vi can’t help but laugh. “nah. i mostly took care of her. she sure liked it when i got down on my knees for her.”

you hum. 

“lucky her.” 

you wink at vi, and she chokes on her drink. 

i would gladly do it for you, if that’s something you want.

“is that a genuine offer? because, if you’re joking —”

shit. did vi say that out loud? 

vi’s heart is beating out of her chest, but she sits up straighter to regain some level of composure. she nods. 

no use in turning back now.

“i’m serious, wonder woman.”

you stare at her. “i really can’t have another relationship that’s just gonna crash and burn.”

“that’s not what i’m offering. i care about our - our friendship. i care about you.”

you swallow. “i care about you, too.”

“right, and when our friends need help with something….”

“we help them,” you finish. “so, you’re really just talking about casual sex. right now, on this couch?”

“yes,” vi answers. maybe a bit too quickly. “if that’s what you want, too.”

“that’s what i want,” you reply. maybe a bit too quickly, too. “but none of this one sided bullshit: you do me, i do you.”

vi takes your mug, puts it next to hers on the floor, and repositions your bodies so that she’s hovering above you, hips set between yours.

“sounds perfect to me.” 

you finally, finally kiss and it feels oddly…familiar. you taste like lychees and nicotine and cherries, burnt sweetness, and your skin is so fucking soft.

“wait.” you tug on vi’s hair and she has to bite back a moan at how fucked out you already look underneath her, all wide-eyed and desperate. “just so we’re 100% clear: just sex.”

vi nods once. “no strings attached.”

“it’ll be casual.” 

“we’re not doing the whole relationship thing.”

“promise?”

vi sticks out her pinky, grinning at you sheepishly. you roll your eyes ever so slightly, but still wrap your pinky around hers.

“promise.” 

so, you take care of each other. no strings attached.

because that’s what friends are for, right? 

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽

are u busy rn? got out of my lab early and im bored 

wndr wmn ☆

yeah, im at work

v ⚽️

leave early. im BORED and HORNY

wndr wmn ☆

ofc you are 

v ⚽️

pls u love it 

u know #6 isn’t just my jersey number ;))

i’m implying that i will give u 6 consecutive orgasms

wndr wmn ☆

yeah i got that 

v ⚽️

so….

wndr wmn ☆

….

leaving now

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“you sure about this, v?” 

vi hums, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “isn’t it every girl’s dream to get tied up by the lasso of truth, wonder woman?”

you’re straddling her, still wearing your red and gold bodysuit underneath blue shorts that you’ve decorated with silver stars. your makeshift lasso of truth — really, just some gold rope — sparkles, tying vi’s wrists together to the headboard.

the theme of the women’s centre halloween celebration is always the same — dress up at your favorite female icon — but you’d never seen someone look as good as vi does. she dressed as trinity from the matrix, all tight, black leather and vinyl, showcasing her defined muscles as the gods intended.

now, she’s left in a sleeveless cropped top and black boyshorts, with her pants and jacket thrown somewhere on your apartment floor. 

you have a feeling she really liked your costume, too, because she practically begged you to take control tonight. 

“if it gets too much, our safeword will be —”

“sappho.” the slight whine of impatience in her voice sends a jolt right to your core.

“perfect.”

you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck, your lipstick leaving angry red marks. you lodge your bare thigh in between vi’s legs, biting your bottom lip when you feel her already warm and wet, when you hear her whimper as you apply more pressure to where she needs you most. you reach into your nightstand for your vibrator and switch it on, teasing vi’s nipples through her shirt. 

vi moans, deep and loud. not even thirty seconds, and she’s already pulling at the restraints, the headboard creaking. 

“are you gonna be a good girl for me, violet?” you coo, inching the vibrator lower and lower, feeling her shake underneath you. “because we’ve got all night, and you better not break my bed.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“hey, so — i found these in between one of the couch cushions, thought maybe they might be yours.”

you can only spare a glance at the item mel is holding up — you’re grading freshman papers, focused on this one student’s thesis about gender fluidity in shakespeare’s twelfth night.

“oh, those are vi’s.”

“hm. and just how is it that you know what her underwear looks like?”

you stop writing mid-sentence and look up at mel who’s giving you a pointed look. 

you and vi had been the ones to clean up after feminist film friday last week, and one thing led to another….

in your defense: vi had been wearing these low cut jeans that showed off her v-line, and you could tell she didn’t have her usual sports bra on because you could see the outlines of her nipple rings through her tight, white tank top. it took everything in you to wait until people cleared out during the credits of the watermelon woman to pin her down and have her whimpering for you.

“i just…guessed.”

“right.” mel rolls her eyes. “so, you and violet are….what? fucking? dating?”

you clear your throat and take a sip of lukewarm coffee. 

“we’re keeping it casual,” is all you say.

“are you sure that’s a good idea?”

you just shrug.

“just — be careful,” mel, always the diplomatic one, eases. she walks towards you, sits on the edge of the desk, and hands you the pair of black briefs. “i know we all teased you about it before, but i don’t want to see you get hurt. i’ve seen you get your heart broken one too many times.”

“it’s fine, mel,” you assure her, grabbing the piece of fabric and shoving it at the bottom of your bag. you’re visiting their owner after this, anyways. “vi and i are just friends helping each other out.”

mel raises an eyebrow. “well, you and i have been friends for years and we’ve never gotten that close.”

“that’s different.”

“how so?”

“i appreciate your concern,” you say, avoiding the question. “but it’s fine. nice, actually.” 

“it’s your life,” mel sighs. “maybe don’t fuck on our couches anymore, though.” 

your cheeks heat up. you turn your attention back to the essay in front of you.

“noted.”

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi starts showing up at your place after soccer. 

she’s allowed back on the field during games now, so she appears with a winning grin, a grass-stained uniform and fresh bruises on her knees. one time, she had the remnants of a bloody nose after a header gone wrong, and you could taste copper when she pressed her lips against yours before she hopped in the shower.

you keep her go-to body wash stocked — bergamot and cedarwood scented old spice — but she always walks out of the bathroom smelling like your mango-vanilla shower gel. sometimes even your coconut shampoo. she slips on one of your oversized graphic tees, drapes a light purple towel around her shoulders to avoid staining your shirt with her cheaply dyed black hair, fading back to pink with each wash. she walks over to the fridge in her soft gray sweatpants rolled at the ankles and cracks open one of the spiced-pear red bulls as you pull ingredients out for dinner. usually something quick and simple, since it’s always a long week and neither of you have capacity for anything more.

vi chops garlic and tells you about her game; you boil water for pasta and tell her about the latest drama between students in your literature class. 

you pretend you have all the time in the world.

because you both know that vi’s got the strap packed in her gym bag, that soon one thing will lead to another and she’ll be fucking you with it until you’re both sweaty and spent and exhausted in the best way possible. 

you’ve established this routine together, agreed upon several unspoken rules: no pillow talk once it’s over; no actually falling asleep in the other’s bed; no crossing that thin sapphic line between friendship and romance. 

no breaking that promise.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

wanna come over? i’m watching bend it like beckham

v ⚽️

MY FAVORITE!!

i would love 2

but lucky fell asleep on me 

we just finished devouring an xl pepperoni pizza 

wndr wmn

remind me again why your one-eyed golden retriever likes pizza so much?

v ⚽️

come on it’s cute

[v ⚽️ sent an attachment]

wndr wmn

yeah, you’re cute

v ⚽️

<3 

come over here instead?

wndr wmn

omw

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“come on — hurry up.”

“you practically begged for this, v,” you chide. 

“yeah, but you’re taking too long and your hands are fucking freezing.”

“it’s the irony deficiency, babe,” you quip. “now, are you gonna be a good girl and let me finish?”

“fine,” vi grumbles. she does stop squirming, though. you hum, pleased.

you certainly didn’t miss the way her breath hitches at the nickname. vi’s right hand, freshly polished, tightens on your thigh.

you’re not sure why she called you at 1:27am for your help with this, or why she couldn’t just do it herself, but you’re sitting on her lap, painting her nails the color of pomegranate juice, a color she had chosen from the options you brought.

sure, you were about to turn in for an early night, but the moment you heard her voice through the phone, you rushed over to her place wearing nothing but your pajamas — plaid boxer shorts and a spiderman shirt that vi wore last time she was at yours, and you haven’t washed since.

you stretch time out as much as you can, meticulous in every stroke, but painting her nails doesn’t take much longer. you start to move off her lap — it’s probably time for you to leave — but vi grabs your hips, a playful smirk on her lips.

oh, right. that’s the type of relationship — friendship — you and vi agreed upon.

shit. you’re pretty sure that you’re wearing your days of the week underwear. is it a turn-off that you’ve got on a saturday pair on a thursday?

it doesn’t really matter, anyways.

instead of initiating a kiss, vi takes the bottle of polish from you, swaps it for black, and gestures for your hand. you blink at her, until you realize what she’s asking.

“oh! you don’t have to —”

“you do me, i do you.” vi grins at you. “i thought that was our arrangement.” 

you laugh, feeling warmth radiate from your chest.

it’s kind of….adorable, the furrow of her brow, the way she curses under her breath when a drop of nail polish falls onto your skin. she’s surprisingly gentle, too, one of her hands holding yours for support while the other paints. 

while she focuses on getting the polish onto your nails in even layers, you busy yourself by counting vi’s freckles. 

violet rose atlas has a constellation of freckles sparkling across her cheeks. you hope there’s enough time in the world for you to memorize every single one.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

v ⚽️

do u need more nicotine gum? 

im at cvs rn

wndr wmn

yeah that’d be great!!

v ⚽️

ok 

i’ll get u the cinnamon one

that’s the one u like right?

wndr wmn

yep!!!

v ⚽️

okay cool

im also gonna get u some of those iron supplements

wndr wmn

my hero 🙏🏽

thank you sm

v ⚽️

ofc

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“that red head was trying to get your number.”

“are you jealous, v?”

vi scoffs, sipping her cherry coke. “of course not. i’m just observant.”

you’d convinced your manager to let vi back into sappho’s. it’s nice, really, to see her back here again. 

nice, but different. 

gone are the days of staring at her from across the room, where she would be charming someone else, and only flirting with you when she came over to get another whiskey for herself and vodka something for her date. instead, she jokes around with mel, sky, and gert if they’re around, and sometimes brings her teammates in as well to play a game of pool. she usually has one drink, and then switches to something non-alcoholic. sometimes, vi doesn’t even come in for a drink; she just stops by to say hi before a team dinner or a study session.

(it’s fine — never once have you gotten an overpriced coffee from the cafe she started working at mid-october, and you probably stop by once a week between errands. that’s your excuse, anyways.)

so. things are different, but nice. 

you lean across the sticky counter. “you want me to get down on my knees for you right now to prove which girl here i’d like to go home with?”

“baby….” vi shifts on the bar stool. it’s hard to tell under the dim multicolored lights, but you’re pretty sure she’s blushing, too. 

“i think we both know you’d draw a bit too much attention to yourself. especially when i use my tongue to —”

“my car’s outside.” 

you smirk. “my break’s in 15.”

you used to spend your breaks in the alley outside sappho’s burning through a cigarette. now you find yourself knee-deep in the passenger seat, eating vi out like she’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

“f-fuck,” vi groans. 

“feels good, yeah?” you tease her clit with her tongue, sliding two fingers into her easily. you work fast, determined to let her finish before you run out of time.

“so fucking good. i’m gonna —”

she clenches around your fingers; you lap her up eagerly, let her writhe against your face until she’s had enough. 

you sit back on your knees once her hips still, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crane your neck to check the time on the dashboard, when you notice something in the footwell.

“vi! i thought i lost this.”

vi grins at you sheepishly, chest still heaving as you hold up the complete works of audre lorde, a tattered book with a well-worn spine and dog-eared pages. 

“sorry. i meant to put it back on your nightstand once i was finished.”

you open to where she’s placed a makeshift bookmark — the ticket from an underground sirens of zaun show you’d both gone to. you’ve had this copy since freshman year, the scribble of your handwriting in the margins of practically on every page.

“it’s okay,” you tell her. “you like it so far?”

“yeah.” she grabs the book from you gently, thumbing through the pages. you wonder if vi registers the curves of her own smile, tender and bashful. “honestly, i’m not usually a fan of poetry, but it’s really cool how lorde writes about desire between women in such a tangible way, you know? i really liked this one verse in ‘recreation:’ ‘touching you, i catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat.’ it’s just so - so beautiful, the idea of something so domestic and mundane being almost magical, because that’s what it’s really like when —”

you don’t even realize that you’re staring until vi looks up at you and freezes.

“sorry,” she clears her throat, closing the book and setting it aside. “did i say something wrong?”

you assure vi that she did nothing wrong. 

you exit her car, the taste of her lingering on your tongue, the feeling of her keeping your body warm on this cold november night.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

wndr wmn

hey

are you in town during break?

v⚽️

having dinner at my dads’ on friday but otherwise im here

why? u gonna miss me?? 

wndr wmn

lol

im having ppl over for friendsgiving on sunday

if you wanna join

v ⚽️

hell yeah

can i bring anything?

wndr wmn

just your pretty face

i’ll take care of the rest

turkey, cranberry, sauce, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie…

etc. etc.

v ⚽️

damn!!!!

full course meal

wndr wmn

yep

im basically wife material

v⚽️

pls we’re so over gender norms

but yeah

you are

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

vi has never been the type to wait by the phone for a girl to text, or to show up at her place after not hearing from her in a while, worried that she might have done something wrong. 

yet here she is, standing outside your door.

it’s cool, though. completely platonic behavior.

she knocks. 

there’s no answer. 

she knocks again.

nothing.

vi waits another second, leaning her shoulder against the door.

“it’s me, wonder woman,” she tries. 

hope flutters in her chest as she hears you shuffle, unchain the lock. vi stumbles as you throw the door open, but she recovers quickly to find you: smudged black eyeliner enhancing the shadows underneath your eyes, hair in disarray, clothes disheveled. 

“i’m not really in the mood for sex.”

vi can’t help but laugh, even though your comment feels like a punch to the face.

“wow. figured you would think more of me by now than just some horny teenage boy.”

“look, vi —”

vi? 

since when do you call her that?

“i’m sorry i missed the meeting today. i texted mel —”

damn, so your phone does work. 

you’ve just been ignoring her calls and texts.

“but i’m just… it’s not a good time, okay? i’ll see you around.”

ah. 

the classic generic excuse and non-committal statement combo.

you start to close the door on her before she even has a chance to get a word in.

the hits just keep coming. 

thankfully, vi’s always been a good fighter.

“wait.” vi places her palm firmly on the door before you can fully shut her out. “i’m just here to check on you.” 

your face remains unchanged.

“okay, well, you’ve checked on me.” 

“yeah, i’ve checked on you. you look like shit.”

you glare at her. “well i’m sorry i didn’t have the time to get all prettied up for you. i know that you like me better that way.”

“that’s not what i  —”  vi inhales sharply. she’s a fighter, but she doesn’t want to fight you. “mel dropped the news — about admin officially cutting our funding. i knew how that would affect you, so….” vi lifts the bag of takeout. “i brought some thai food for us to share. a pomegranate, too, because i know you like seasonal fruit. it’s been a while and honestly, i just….i just wanted to spend time with you.”

you exhale, your eyes softening. 

there. 

a hesitant smile, an invitation to come inside.

there are clothes all over your floor and dishes piled high in the sink. your desk is littered with empty boxes of cereal and cans of an energy drink that normally you’d never touch. the blanket that sky had crocheted for you — lavender and pink checkered — is unfolded on your couch, your laptop half-closed on the coffee table in front next to two stacks of printed essays — ones marked with purple pen, the others untouched. in contrast, your bed is still perfectly made. 

you take the blanket and wrap it around your shoulders, sitting at the kitchen table and curling into yourself. vi busies herself in cracking open the pomegranate, putting the seeds into the last clean bowl in your cupboard. the palms of her arm wraps are now stained a reddish-purple, but she doesn’t care.

vi manages to find two pairs of clean chopsticks for the thai food, and the two of you eat in silence. 

“so….” vi starts, watching you stab a piece of chicken before popping it into your mouth. “you wanna talk about it, or….?”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“well, for starters, maybe tell me what’s been getting you into full hibernation mode? we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“six days,” you correct, chewing a mouthful of noodles. “last tuesday, we played pool during my closing shift at sappho’s. i lost. you made me down two shots of tequila because you’re a menace and you know i hate it.” 

“yeah, but i drove you home and tucked you into bed with water and advil for later, so i’m also a gentleman. so, just tell me what’s been going on. we’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“it’s fine,” you grumble.

“clearly, it’s not. just tell me what you need.”

“what i need is to not be distracted,” you huff, avoiding eye contact. “i certainly don’t need you —”

“taking care of you, i know.” vi grabs your hand from across the table. she feels you stiffen on instinct, and then ease into the heat of her skin. “trust me, i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to be. so — humor me.”

vi squeezes your hand, hoping to reassure you. 

you sigh. “i’ve just — i’ve been spiralling trying to figure out how the centre can keep going with, like, half our required budget, trying to see if we can get some external donors and i still need to finalize the venue and equipment rentals for our last open mic….and….and my sibling called again to tell me that things haven’t been great at home, so i want to go down there this weekend to sort everything out, but my car hasn’t been starting….plus i’m behind on grading, and i told my supervisor i’d have a complete draft ready by thursday and i’m not even halfway done, and that’s the same day we’re having that art build for the climate rally on friday, and i’ve been having the worst cramps since this afternoon, and all i wanna do is pass out and sink into my duvet, but i need to keep going —”

vi squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly. “you need to slow down.” 

“i can’t.” you huff. “i have to keep everything from falling apart, and if i don’t….”

vi shifts to the chair next to yours, still holding your hand. 

“but you can’t do it all if you’re too exhausted to take care of yourself. from the looks of it, you’ve been living off of frosted flakes, red bull, and zero sleep.” 

you shrug. “if that’s what it takes.”

“if that’s what it takes, then maybe it’s not worth it.”

“don’t say that,” you tell her. “it’s all worth it. i just wish it wasn’t so…heavy.”

vi nods, because she really, truly understands. she gives you the advice she can see you giving her in another context.

“you ever think that maybe it wouldn’t feel as heavy if you…i don’t know…weren’t too stubborn to ask for help.”

“there are things that are my responsibility, violet,” you tell her, slipping your hand away. you reach for the bowl of pomegranate seeds, meticulously picking up one at a time with your chopsticks and crushing it in between your molars. “i can’t just pass those off to someone else.” 

“fine. but what about other things? like the women’s centre stuff — we’re a team, right? so we’ll figure it out together, divide the labor so you’re not doing everything. and, maybe ask your supervisor for an extension, too? and, well, i don’t really need my car this weekend, so you’re welcome to borrow it.”

you pause, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“you said…. ‘we.’”

“well, yeah. i’m part of the team, aren’t i?”

“but you’ll be finished with your hours in a week. there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“of course there is,” vi whispers, studying your face as it morphs from suspicious to something else, something gentler. 

her heart is pounding as she waits for you to say something, so vi starts to dig into the pomegranate seeds, the juice surprisingly more sweet than sour. some dribbles out from the corner of her lips, and you reach over to wipe it away with your thumb.

“i’d love for you to stay,” you hum, smiling, and vi feels her chest glow with a brightness it seems only you can bring out. “turns out you give pretty good advice.”

“so…you’ll consider it.”

you shrug again. “maybe. i am very tempted to take you up on the car thing.”

“all yours, if you want it.”

“are you sure?”

“it’s fine, wonder woman. i’ll just carpool to practice — it’s better for the environment, anyways. can’t show up to the climate rally as a hypocrite, can i?” she jokes, and you roll your eyes playfully. “and, i’ll try to fix your car while you’re away.”

“wow. you are a gentleman.”

“gentleman? baby, i’m husband material.”

you actually laugh.

“i thought we were over gender norms,” you quip. “but yeah. you are.” 

vi’s cheeks heat up at your statement. you most definitely notice her blushing because you break out into a toothy grin

“i missed you, v,” you admit. “any other words of wisdom?”

despite your tender smile, you look exhausted. vi just wants to hold you through it all, tell you it’s gonna be okay. instead, she settles for placing a gentle hand on your cheek, running her thumb over the deep shadow underneath your eye. 

“get some rest, pretty girl.”

a few hours later, you wake up alone. 

you have a vague memory of warm arms wrapped around you, a heart beating steadier than yours. your sheets smell like old spice, your apartment smells like fresh laundry. you get out of bed and notice that there are no more dishes in your sink, no more cans or containers on any surface. all the clothes you’d been meaning to wash are now carefully folded on your couch. 

there’s a bright pink sticky note on your nightstand next to the keys to vi’s car.

you talk in your sleep. something about stargazing? maybe we can go when you get back. 

drive safe. text me if you need anything.

xxx

- v

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

zaun yellowjackets vs. piltover knights. 

two minutes left in overtime. 

one goal standing in the way of their trophy. one goal to end piltover’s monopoly over the title of national champions. 

caitlyn probably told her knights to be extra aggressive — win by any means necessary — so it’s been a long game of dirty plays and intentional fouls.

vi always puts her heart into every single game, but this time —

this time, it’s personal. 

zaun’s defense works to regain possession and prevent piltover’s attack. ashe manages to intercept a pass between two knights, and is quick in dribbling the ball until mid-field. she sends it over to vi with a swift kick. vi’s quick on her feet, catching piltover’s defense by surprise, sprinting closer and closer to the goal. she makes it to the penalty box.

this could be the winning point. 

vi has it, too. she’s so fucking close, about to fake out the goalie and kick into that hard-to-defend sweet spot — until a sharp, pointy elbow collides with her ribs so abruptly, it knocks the wind out of her lungs. she stumbles forward over the ball, knees skidding onto the grass. whoever it is also steps on vi’s cleat for good measure. 

“fuck!” she looks up to see who it is.

of course. it’s maddie fucking nolan, who doesn’t spare so much as a glance as the ref doles out a red card. she nods at caitlyn as she walks off the field, no doubt following her captain’s orders.

her teammates help vi to her feet, and the ref makes sure everyone is in position for the penalty kick.

this could be the winning point. vi just has to ignore caitlyn’s icy stare from a few feet away, and the heart threatening to beat out of her chest. 

vi takes a deep breath. 

she looks to the stands. among the crowd of screaming fans, zaunites and pilties alike, is vi’s family. they’re cheering.

you’re there too, sitting next to them. 

everyone is staring at vi, waiting for the whistle, waiting for her to make the shot, but the only person she stares back at is you.

you’ve got this, v, you had whispered to her the night before. she couldn’t sleep, so she called you. vi wishes she was back there, now — tangled in flannel sheets, lucky snoring at the foot of the bed, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling until she finally fell asleep in your arms.

but, vi’s on the field. 

and this is the winning point. 

the whistle blows. 

she makes the shot.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

“i told you i wasn’t a jinx!” powder sticks her tongue out at mylo.

she’s all sweat and dirt and adrenaline, but, fuck, if vi isn’t so, incredibly happy and proud of her team, of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve accomplished.

it almost doesn’t feel real.

just like it doesn’t feel real, seeing you talk animatedly with her sister’s boyfriend, laughing along with her siblings, smiling as you watch her dads hug and praise her.

when it’s your turn to do the same, you practically leap into vi’s arms, gushing about how amazing she was, how proud you are of her. 

“this looks good on you,” vi hums, as you pull away from another hug. her fingers play with the bottom of the jersey, and she bites the inside of her cheek to ground herself in the moment. you, with her family. you, in her jersey. “thinking of joining the yellowjackets?”

“i think i’ll leave the soccer to you,” you tell her. “you were amazing out there. guess i should be calling you wonder woman from now on, huh?”

“wonder woman! that’s where i remember you from!” vander suddenly exclaims, stepping closer to the pair of you. silco turns around, too. “you once tried to get into the last drop with a fake id, didn’t you? under the name diana prince?”

“shit,” you laugh nervously, eyes flickering between vander and the ground as if you’re once again a teenager caught in the act. “i….probably did.”

“i kicked you out, told you to go home to themyscira.”

“yeah…i….i remember that.” you nod slowly, furrowing your brows. “except, i didn’t want to go home that night, so i lingered outside,” you continue. you turn to vi, and your face softens. “which was when you —”

“brought two glasses of cherry coke and rum,” vi finishes; she sees flashes of that night as you gaze into her eyes. “we climbed onto the roof and —”

that was her first kiss. vi never even realized until now, but —

you were her first kiss.

“i can’t believe i forgot that.”

“weird, how memory works,” you agree, tilting your head curiously, looking at vi with a newfound interest, like a ghost from your past.

“well, isn’t this a story we’ll be sharing on your wedding day!” vander chuckles, ruffling vi’s hair. 

“don’t pressure them, darling,” silco chides, but the smirk growing on his face gives him away. he’s loving this drama. “they’re barely 23 — i doubt they’ve discussed marriage.” 

“oh, we’re not —”

“yeah, we’re just —”

“friends,” you say at the same time, careful to avoid eye contact.

vi feels like she might burst into flames at the knowing look vander and silco share.

“well, violet, would your friend like to join us for a celebratory dinner?” silco asks.

so that’s how you’re sitting between powder and claggor, listening to them talk your ear off about the young innovator’s competition. vi’s sitting across from you, next to ekko, who occasionally pipes in. 

you’re here, sharing the tradition of a post-game meal with vi’s family at the local pizza parlour. 

caitlyn never even wanted to meet vi’s family.

a few pizzas are ordered for the table, and you eat and laugh and sip your soda along with everyone else. you make a flower out of your paper napkin and hand it to isha, who’s on the other side of powder, and she gives you a toothy grin in return. you answer all the standard questions about your job and major and plans for the future.

“after graduation, i’m probably gonna take a break, get some work experience,” you explain. “maybe save up some money for law school a few years down the road.”

“you wanna be a lawyer, huh? you sure you wanna be friends with a felon, then?” powder asks, blowing bubbles into her soda through her straw. 

vi coughs, choking on a mushroom. 

“powder!” 

“what! she never told you?”

you shake your head, glancing over at vi who suddenly finds it hard to look you in the eye. your foot has been pressed against hers underneath the table all night; you pull it away now. she takes a big gulp of water; vi looks over at vander and silco for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversation.

“oh, damn! ” mylo adds, leaning over. “it’s a great story!” 

“guys, maybe don’t —”

“but it’s a great story!” mylo insists. “shows what a badass you are!”

“she didn’t do anything serious, like murder or anything,” powder clarifies. “it was really just her pissing off some enforcers —”

“rightfully so,” ekko adds. 

claggor nods. “we were just kids. they were harassing us for some bullshit, disruption of property or whatever, so vi steps in and things get heated —”

“it takes three of enforcers to get her handcuffed, but she manages to get a few nasty hits in before they send her off to stillwater —”

“she spends three days there —”

“i thought it was two —”

“no, it was three —”

“needless to say, this isn’t the first time vi has been sentenced to community service, but it seems she’s really enjoying it this time, thanks to you,” powder finishes, winking at you. 

“well that’s….quite the story,” you finally say, voice steady. 

“oh! let’s tell her about the time she stole from some enforcers that were hoarding food —”

as powder continues the story, and you listen intently, it’s hard to read your expression.

are you ashamed of being friends with her? disgusted by her family, her past? regretful that you ever let her touch you, let her into your life? 

vi’s stomach turns when your eyes collide; she’s been down this road before, and vi’s scared that she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

she pushes her chair back and disappears to the bathroom before she has to watch you walk away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

there’s a knock on the door.

“someone’s in here,” vi says. she grips the edge of the counter so hard, her knuckles turn white. 

deep breaths. 

this isn’t the same as before.

this isn’t caitlyn, who threw vi out like a piece of trash when something better came along. 

then again, you never knew this much about vi’s past. you’re well within your right to —

there’s another knock.

“v? it’s me….i have to get going, but i wanted to check on you before i leave.”

“okay,” vi clips. she looks up at herself in the mirror; she had splashed her face with cold water to calm herself down. a drop falls from her chin. “bye.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“i’m fine. see you around.”

you sigh, and vi hears you settle against the doorframe. 

“violet, let me in,” you press. “please?” 

“i’m fine. you can leave.”

“okay, well, i’m not leaving until i see that gorgeous face of yours one more time,” you whisper. “i got all dolled up just for you, and all i wanna do is give you a proper goodbye….” 

well, when you put it like that….

vi grabs some paper towel to dry her face and fixes her hair before opening the door for you. you smile knowingly, enter and lock the door behind you. 

you lean against the door as vi leans against the counter, the marble digging into her lower back.

“okay, i’ll start because, frankly, i don’t have time to waste,” you state after a few moments of silence. “nothing i’ve learned about you tonight has changed how i see you. it’s just confirmed some things.”

“right. like how impulsive and violent and reckless i’ve always been,” she lists glumly, unable to look you in the eye.

“maybe you are all those things,” you pause. “but, i don’t fucking care. i mean, i do, because it’s part of you and i like who you are. i like you.”

your words do wonders to ease the tension throughout vi’s body, and she feels like she can actually take a breath.

vi’s eyes lock onto yours.

“you do?”

“i like who you are, every part of it,” you tell her. “well, i don’t like that you’ve had to fight your way through an unbelievably fucked up system ever since you were a kid, but the bottom line is that you’re the strongest, most compassionate person i know.”

vi blinks at you.

“funny, i was just thinking the same thing about you the other day.”

neither of you say anything for a minute or so, letting the sentiment linger in the small space between you. once more, you’re the one to break the ice.

“well, you know what they say about great minds….” you step closer to vi. you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger. "can you guess what i’m thinking now?" 

vi shakes her head, throat suddenly very dry.

“i’m thinking that i’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“what’s stopped you?”

you grin. “i didn’t want to make a fuss in front of your family, but now that we’re alone….”

vi doesn't say anything, but instead closes the gap between your lips.

you kiss her, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing her moans as your fingers snake down the waistband of her pants. you pull vi’s bottom lip with your teeth before moving to her neck, nipping along the outline of her tattoo. you bite down harder on her skin, right at her pulse point. 

"what’s that you said earlier —” a low groan tumbles from vi’s lips when you start to suck just above her collarbones. another when your tongue soothes over the sting. “about a proper goodbye…?” she tugs your hair so that you’re looking right at her. 

it’s quite the sight — your lips swollen, chest heaving, eyes curious and lustful.

“anything you want,” you whisper, all breathless. 

vi hums. she slips a hand underneath the frayed hem of your denim skirt, and you gasp as her nails scrape against your inner thigh.

she likes that you’re here. here for her.

"get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

she pulls down her pants along with her briefs, as you kneel before her without hesitation.

you drape one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access to her cunt. vi grips your hair tighter, bringing you in closer, and you moan, sending vibrations up her body.

"fuck," vi hisses. you add a finger, while your tongue works her clit. 

you bring her to the edge, stay with her even as her thighs clench around your skull. she expects you to get back on your feet right away, but you stay, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moans your name.

you pull away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promise. your chin glistens with vi’s release; you lick your lips as you gaze up at her through thick eyelashes. "can you do that for me?" she nods furiously, and you get back to work.

after letting her ride your tongue and fingers through another orgasm, you kiss her ankle before releasing her leg. vi pulls you up to your feet, sucks the taste of herself off your tongue.

you pull away slightly, heart racing against vi’s chest. 

vi swipes her thumb over the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studies you, admires you, like you’re a fucking work of art that belongs in a gallery, like you didn’t just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a pizza parlour while wham's "last christmas" plays through shitty speakers.

"take these off." vi tugs at your tights. you do as instructed, slipping off your underwear as well. she pulls you towards her, and lodges a leg in between yours. your bare cunt brushes against her thigh, back and forth as she guides your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up…. wearing my jersey, and this pretty little skirt even though it’s so cold outside. all for me?"

vi flexes her thigh muscles, pushing you down faster and harder. you whimper.

"all – all for you.”

vi feels her pussy clench, with the desperation in your voice, the stickiness of your heat against her skin, the smell of the two of you intertwining. your orgasm crashes into you, and vi holds you through it. 

you kiss her ever so sweetly before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...." 

you look over as vi tucks your fuschia thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for christmas."

vi flashes you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulls up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. she likes the idea of walking around with you seeped into her skin. 

when vi looks over at you, you’re as fully dressed as you can be and busy checking something on your phone. she only sees a flash of your lock screen, but it’s her. a photo of her and lucky playing at the park; there’s snow, so it had to have been a few days ago. 

that doesn’t mean anything, right? people use photos of their friends for their wallpaper all the time.

“i really have to go,” you sigh. you pull a tube of lipstick from your pocket and step closer to the mirror. “hey — do you think we could switch shirts? not sure i should wear this to my next dinner.”

vi nods and you remove her jersey, revealing a matching fuschia bralette. she wonders what’s got you all coordinated — who else you’ve clearly dressed up for. 

“so, you’ve got a hot date?” vi tries to act casual as she takes off her jacket, pulls off her shirt, and waits for you to answer. you take your time, fixing yourself in the mirror.

“something like that,” you finally say with a shy smile.

later, when isha’s asleep on powder’s lap in the backseat, vi thinks about how your date might have gone, if you’re taking them home to the same bed vi has fucked you in throughout these past few months.

where do you get off, fucking vi in the bathroom during dinner while her parents are at the table, only to leave for another date, wearing vi’s shirt, too?

“hey, can i ask you something?” ekko asks from beside her, cutting off the angry monologue in her head.

vi reaches over to turn down the music.

“sure, little man. what’s up?”

“what’s the deal between you and wonder woman?”

vi clears her throat, gripping the steering wheel. “what makes you think there’s a deal?”

“oh, please, we all noticed that hickey on your neck after she visited you in the bathroom.” 

the car crawls to a stop as the light turns red, and vi adjusts the collar of her shirt.

“we’re just friends.”

“well, powder and i were just friends for ages,” ekko points out.

vi doesn’t notice that the light’s turned green until someone behind her honks. she steps on the gas, but the idiot behind her still cuts in front of her.

“asshole,” she grumbles, throwing them a middle finger for good measure. vi glances to her right at ekko, who’s scribbling something in his sketchbook despite only the streetlamps outside providing light. “so, what made you….realize that you wanted something more?”

ekko closes his book, smiling to himself. 

“honestly? it was kinda a million little things, but what it really comes down to is that she’s the only person i could spend every second of my life with, and i’d still want more time. and, in my experience….it’s better to tell someone how you feel sooner rather than later.”

“or, some people prefer to wait a few weeks,” powder mumbles, stirring awake. “nice try, mister, but no interfering. i’m not losing 20 bucks.”

“wait — you’ve bet on my love life?”

ekko smirks. “so it is love.”

vi shrugs, pretends that she doesn’t immediately picture you in your kitchen, making her banana pancakes at 2am when she hears the word love. 

“it doesn’t matter.”

because, it really doesn’t matter. 

you’re out with someone else right now. 

it’s over before it really had a chance to begin.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

cupcake 

Hey, Vi

Just wanted to say good game today

You played brilliantly

Violet

k

cupcake

No need for the attitude

I was just trying to be nice

Violet

my apologies!!!

thank you SO much for recognizing my talent captain kiramman

i feel like i’m actually worth something now!!!

cupcake

Bitterness isn’t a good colour on you, darling

Violet

im NOT your darling

cupcake

I’m aware

I saw you earlier with that girl

Are you together? 

Violet

idk

are you still with maddie?

cupcake

Actually, we broke up

I was hoping you and I could chat

Violet

what’s in it for me?

cupcake

The chance to reconnect with an old friend

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

you can excuse vi no longer attending the weekly team meeting. she finished her 100 hours around thanksgiving, so technically she didn’t need to be there anymore.

maybe you could excuse her ignoring your calls, or leaving your texts on read. it’s finals season, and she did mention picking up a few extra shifts to save up for christmas presents. 

but you simply can’t excuse vi walking into sappho’s with caitlyn fucking kiramman, ordering drinks from you like you’re absolute strangers.

“what the fuck, vi?” you seethe. 

vi glances at her date. caitlyn’s waiting for her back at a table, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pretty face.

“what, should i have ordered something else? not every girl likes cherry coke and rum.” 

you glare at her from across the counter, but start preparing their drinks nonetheless. 

“why are you with her?” you throw some ice in a glass, the cubes clinking aggressively against the crystal. “are you back together?”

vi has the audacity to roll her eyes at you. “why’d you care?”

you catch yourself before saying something you’ll regret, something about liking her more than you definitely should considering the agreement the two of you had made. 

clearly, vi doesn’t feel the same way; it’s not worth spilling your guts to her at your place of work. 

“because we’re friends.”

“yeah, right,” vi scoffs. “you’re jealous, which you have no right to be because you’re seeing someone, too.”

you accidentally pour a double shot of vodka. you don’t really care, and mix the drink anyways.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“i’m talking about the date you went on the night of my championship game.”

“what date?” you slam the glasses in front of vi, so hard that you’re lucky they didn’t break.

“oh, don’t play dumb.” vi spits your name like it’s poison. “this whole thing started because you said you didn’t want a relationship, when really you just didn’t want a relationship with me. you used me until someone better came along. you lied to me.”

her eyes are glazed over, her voice shaking ever so slightly. you’re not sure if you’re more hurt or angry by what she’s saying, but it cuts deep; you continue as though you aren’t bleeding out in front of her.

“i don’t want a relationship with anyone and certainly not with you —”

“excuse me! are we able to order something?” someone with bright green hair and a septum piercing waves their hand in front of your face.

“yeah, just give us a second —”

“look, you and your girlfriend can fight on your own time.”

“she’s not my girlfriend!” you and vi snap simultaneously. 

you glare at each other.

vi grabs the glasses from the counter, and walks away.

───── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

it took many brainstorming sessions, many boring conversations with potential donors, and many, many tears, but you managed to secure enough funding to keep the women’s centre going for the foreseeable future.  

it was a team effort, of course, so you just want everyone to enjoy this open mic night, the last event of the semester — even though you are weighed down by the absence of a certain someone.

the gallery space on campus that you rented out is both cozy and electric, decorated with fairy lights on the walls, with pillows and blankets on the floor for people to sit and watch performances. there’s a table with drinks and snacks, a corner for people to make art if they’re inspired. 

you’re rearranging the food, watching gert perform an original song when mel slides in next to you, wearing a gorgeous white dress with gold accents. 

“do you mind running to the office? we’re out of paint.”

“really? people don’t usually use the paint.”

“well, it seems to be quite popular tonight.”

“it’s fine. we still have lots of other stuff. they can just collage or something.”

mel shakes her head. “i really think you should go get more paint.”

“maybe ask sky? i should stay here —”

“you could use a break, too,” mel cuts you off, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve been nonstop all day; the rest of us can hold down the fort for a little while.”

you concede, mostly because she’s right and you don’t have the energy to argue. 

when you get to the office, you’re surprised to find the lights on. even more surprised that someone’s already there, sitting on the zebra-striped couch.

“vi?”

she jumps slightly when you say her name.

“mel texted me,” she rushes out like she’s been caught red-handed. “said she needed help with something she’d been planning.” 

you frown, until you realize why mel must have sent you here, specifically. 

you haven’t seen vi since that night at sappho’s; you’d been quite a mess after your shift, ranting to mel on the phone about how she’d been right and you should have been more careful, how you don’t know what you did that ruined whatever you and vi had, and you really don’t know what you can do to fix it.

you’re both too stubborn to reach out to the other, so it seems like mel decided to take matters into her own hands. 

“yeah, i doubt she’s coming,” you tell vi. 

“okay,” vi says, but she doesn’t move. “i, uh, i was hoping i’d run into you, though.”

“yeah?” you raise an eyebrow at vi, crossing your arms. “needed another vodka martini for your piltover princess.”

“she’s not — we’re not together.”

“oh,” you exhale. the animosity you were holding towards her evaporates, but doesn’t completely disappear. you watch her, watching you stand by the doorway. 

there are so many things you want to tell her, but you don’t even know where to start. you know that you’ve hurt her. she hurt you, too.

but, also:

you miss the cloudy blue-gray of her eyes, the scar on her upper lip. 

you miss her.

“do you wanna come sit?”

after being so far away from vi, for what feels like forever, you don’t hesitate to take her up on the offer. your knees brush together as you settle next to her on the couch, a jolt of electricity passing through your body at the contact.

“so, i admit that —”

“vi, you were right —”

both of you stop your sentences short, chuckling nervously. you each urge the other to continue, and only get caught in a similar mess:

“i fucked up,” vi blurts out.

“i lied to you,” you confess at the same time.

an awkward, unfamiliar silence hangs above you; you’re not sure what to do next. 

vi takes the leap. she tells you that mel explained everything: that you had to attend a dinner with alumni and potential donors on the same night of her championship game, but you kept it from vi since it was already a big moment for her; that you haven’t been on a real date with anyone else since september. vi apologizes for jumping to conclusions and falling back into caitlyn’s arms, shutting you out when she should have just talked to you.

you’re the girl who was her first kiss, she says. the girl who lingered in a vague memory, appeared in the fiction of her daydreams, and then suddenly became too real. 

“i like you. i really fucking like you. and if it has to be as a friend, that’s fine because i don’t want to lose you.” vi takes a shattered breath, blinking back tears. she fiddles with the ring on her index finger, anxiously bouncing her knee. you place your hand there to steady her, and she exhales. “i guess i’m just not sure….when you said you liked me that night at the restaurant….is that what you lied about?” 

vi’s practically doe-eyed, waiting for you to respond. 

you shake your head. 

“i lied when i said that i didn’t want a relationship with you,” you admit, and the hint of a smile dances across her lips. “i had this major crush on you, you know? every time you came into sappho’s….i couldn’t help it. and then you showed up here and we became friends, and then we started….well, you know the rest.”

“duh. i was there,” vi jokes, easing into her usual, playful self.  

“i can’t do the whole casual thing,” you continue, rubbing circles into her knee with your thumb. “i know we made a promise, but i just can’t, not with you. it’s like…in every other relationship i’ve been in, i was trying to run out the clock. with you, though, with us, i feel like there’s never enough time —”

vi grabs your neck and crashes her mouth onto yours before you can finish your sentence. 

you’ve kissed each other many times, in many different places, in many different ways, but never like this: like you’re both willing to break one promise if it means forging a new one.

“will you be my girlfriend, violet rose atlas?” you whisper as you pull away, lips brushing against hers.  

you start to count the freckles on her cheeks as she beams at you, pulls you into her lap.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[dumblilb]

She’s a….. she’s a fucking munch. I’m quivering.

[kitimeq]

surprise encounter 🤍 sylus 秦

pairing: sylus x reader

summary: You’ve been playing love&deepspace ever since the game came out and it became your comfort place now. You like all of the boys, but you have the highest affinity with sylus, who had your heart in a grasp ever since the beginning. Who would’ve thought that he shares the sentiment? And after your monthly absence from the game, he decides to pay you a little visit and finally confess to all of it (and maybe kind of try to kidnap you in the process too oho).

tropes: fluff, angst to fluff, fluff to angst to fluff? fluff to angst to fluff to angst to fluff???? idk angst with happy ending!

word count: no idea, it goes on for days sorry. (7k!!)

warning!: i apologize for any mistakes, i am not a native speaker of english!! if you see any errors you can write me a dm and i will correct them for sure ♡ and i think it gets better later! i can’t write for shi, especially the beginnings, and the second part was fueled by my delulu so it is probably much more fun to read 🤍

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You liked days like these: quiet days, lazy ones, when you didn’t have any errands to run, meetings to attend, or people to please. You could just stay inside for the whole day, reading your favorite books and playing cozy games, spending your time however you wanted. Today was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to work until Monday and you decided that you finally deserved to have some rest after the last couple of weeks of almost working yourself to the bone due to the amount of the assingments you had to complete at work. You often had to stay after hours or work from home to complete everything in time. Your work was not usually that challenging, but there were certain times of the year when everyone at your job had their hands full and when it happened, you were almost completely cut off not only from your social, but also personal life. However, you never complained, because you actually liked what you were doing, and even if the occasional hard times were inevitable, your work brought you so much fun and satisfaction.

And today was a good day! You finally finished everything you had to do, so you could go back to your favourite game. You didn’t have time to play recently due to the amount of work, up to the point that you didn’t even bother to check in to grab some stamina. Usually, love&deepspace was an important part of your day - you logged in there at least twice a day, completed every task thrown your way and had a blast doing so, but these couple of weeks were so hard for you that you almost forgot about it completely. But even if you were too busy, you thought about the boys from time to time, as well as about the events that you were probably missing out on. You really hoped that if some new events had taken place during that time, that they did not involve Sylus, because if you had missed them, you would be slightly devastated.

Sylus was your favorite. Ever since the beginning, there was something about him that caught your attention. You downloaded the game after his announcement and haven’t looked back since. You played with other boys as well, but your time with Sylus was always the most memorable. Not only was he extremely attractive in your eyes, as well as the eyes of other players around the world, but you also understood his character, adored his little jokes and mannerisms, and could safely say that he made your life a little more exciting. You knew that it probably sounded lame to someone who didn’t play such games, and you were aware that he wasn’t real, but you enjoyed yourself regardless. In your real life, you had some experience with men and were pretty popular among them; however, you never felt comfortable enough to form more serious romantic relationships.

Here, with Sylus, you didn’t have to worry about such things. You were aware that he was only a game character and maybe that was why you were so honest with him from the very beginning. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you, misstreat you or make you miserable - he was created in a way that was supposed to make your playthrough enjoyable so you didn’t have to worry about your responses in the messages for him or your real life reactions to everything he said or did. You could just be yourself. And you loved how freeing that felt.

That is why you felt so excited ever since you woke up. Because you knew that today you could finally go back to playing l&d, and you could meet up with your Sylus after so much time apart. You quickly did your chores, spent some time on self-care to slightly relieve the fatigue from the weeks before, you put on your favourite cozy outfit and finally clicked the ”enter game” button.

And there he was. Sylus was standing in the cafe, wearing his extremally attractive biker outfit and you caught yourself sighing dreamily at the sight of him. You missed him so bad, you missed the little memories you shared and the sound of his voice. You missed playing kitty cards with him, catching plushies together and even looking for that bastard Tobias again and again. You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.

“Hi Sylus, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” You said cheerfully, feeling kind of dumb for it but you couldn’t help yourself. You often talked out loud to him during your playtime.

You watched him blink slowly once, then twice, and you started to think that there was something wrong with the server because his response should have already been uttered. But then the look on his face changed. At first, he appeared really shocked and relieved, but then a little frown appeared between his perfect little eyebrows.

“Where the hell have you been?” He responded quickly and it shocked you. You didn’t know that they could swear in the game, but after connecting some dots you figured that it had to be included in the special responses after the player was away for some time.

“At work mostly, been so busy lately but now I’m back and ready to defeat some Wanderers!!” You fist bumped the air above you, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

You also noticed that his expression stayed the same. He was silent, looking at you through your phone screen with bewilderment, and he looked almost hurt. In an attempt to provide some comfort to him, you swiped your finger gently through his hair and across his cheek. However, when you touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and nuzzled into your finger, which made you widen your eyes in surprise. Was that always a thing? Was he always so responsive to your touch? It had to be a new feature; you didn’t remember him being so lively.

“Next time you decide to leave me without a word, I think I’m going to take more drastic measures, sweetie” He said while opening his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice he did look different than usual. More… realistic? Even the way in which he moved his body looked so smooth.

“If not for Mephisto, I would have worried sick about your safety. You can't do this to me every time you have more work than usual; you have to visit me, even if it's just for a minute. I won't exaggerate when I say that I almost went insane after the first week of your cruel silence” And at that you were completely stunned. Should he talk this much? He never talked this much. And how could he know that you had more work than usual? Was that a lucky guess on the studio’s side?

“That’s so weird…” You whispered and touched his hand to trigger some kind of reaction that would appear more usual than what was happening right now.

“Is that your way of catching me of guard? If you wanted to hold my hand so badly kitten, then you would have visited me sooner. I will not let myself be distracted by your cute little behavior” He raised the hand you touched and crossed his arms at his chest, while continuing to frown. And you were still so, so confused.

“Promise me that you won’t leave me again, I know where to find you now.” You raised your eyebrows and bit your lip gently. You started to feel a little bit out of place, you knew that he was not real, but he sounded kind of scary. His voice was demanding, and the part about him finding you? You shivered involuntarily.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue, kitten? Or did you finally understood the selfishness of your actions?” Sylus continued and you opened your mouth in awe. “Promise. Me.” He said slowly, his gaze unnerving. Suddenly you heard a series of loud caws outside on your balcony. The sound made you jump in place, and you dropped your phone on your bed. Was that a freaking crow?? Outside your apartament???

You quickly picked up your phone and cursed softly. You were going insane. You got scared just because the game had an update you did not know about. You almost wanted to laugh at how stupid that was. Almost. Because Sylus walked up to the front of your phone screen and spoke to you again.

“Why are you hesitating? Are you really planning to leave me again?” You swore you never heard him so hurt.

“No!” You said before you could think.

“No?” He answered immediately, which scared the hell out of you. “I am not sure I believe you. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” He took two steps back and closed his eyes.

That was when the game crashed. Your phone appeared to be broked too, after the colourful lines appeared on the screen, flickered a couple of times and the whole screen turned black. You threw the device away from you and your heart started beating so fast you could hear the blood pulsing in your ears. You were so confused and genuinely scared. Was there an update that switched the genre of the game to horror? You were stunned.

And then you heard the knock.

You almost jumped out of your slippers. You brought your hand to your heart in order to calm yourself down and you started taking slow, deep breaths. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. Besides, how did Sylus, of all people, managed to scare you so badly? You adored that character, and you should know that he was prone not only to exaggeration, but also to intimidating behavior. That was literally one of his characteristics. So you forced yourself to calm down and opened the damn door, because it was probably either a mailman, or one of your friendly neighbors, and here you were making a scene like some kind of a delusional psychopath.

One. Two. Three.

You opened the door, and at first all you could see was a huge cloud of black mist. You closed your eyes in order to keep the mist from clouding your vision and then you felt wind pushing you gently further into your apartament. You heard the door close and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Everything happened so fast. And when you opened your eyes your knees almost buckled.

Sylus.

Sylus was all you could see. He was standing in front of you, in your own apartament, looking so out of place that you wanted to laugh. The first thing that you noticed about him was that he was huge, you couldn’t really see past him, and the more you looked at him, the more real he appeared to be. Soft-looking silver hair, rugged skin, that perfect nose and those piercing eyes. They looked into yours now, and at first they seemed to be searching for something, and after one quick second they visibly softened. You could also see how his handsome, oh so handsome mouth started to display his signature little smirk. And that was when you started to tremble.

“W-wha—” You tried to say something, anything but your mouth was not working. You have never been so confused and scared in your entire life. “Who—W-who are—” He was starting to close the distance between you and that is when the panic finally took over your body. You flinched and went to take a step back, but you slipped on your soft carpet.

Yet you didn’t fall. You felt the gentle caress of the mist that managed to caught you before you hit the ground, and it streightened your posture so that now you stood tall in front of the man.

“Careful kitten, I do not think that falling on four feet applies to you.” He spoke out loud for the first time and the voice was so familiar to you. It was the same, deep, husky timbre that you loved to hear, the same voice that made you squeal in happiness, that lulled you to sleep countless of times. You couldn’t believe it.

“Oh my god, am I dead?” He laughed softly at your reaction and looked at you through his lashes. “This can’t be happening.”

”Oh but it is. I knew that I would find my way to you, I just needed time.” He said and tried to close the distance between you, but you didn’t let him. Every step forward he took, you took one back. “It was so hard to find you. But after you disappeared without saying a word I think I got desperate.” Something flashed in his eyes. You recognized it as determination.

He stopped walking when he noticed that you were getting too close to the balcony. He straightened his posture, and you almost released a gasp. He was huge. And he was real. Alive and so, so real, that you had trouble breathing. You were so scared, but at the same time, so happy to see him, that your body didn’t know how it should react. You just looked at him, taking him in, trying to assess whether it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you, or if it wasn’t some random man breaking into your apartment and your brain had created a new, fantastic defense mechanism. But no, the longer you took him in, the more similarities you managed to notice: the scar in the corner of his eye, his unevenly clipped fingernails, strong but dry hands, olive skin, slim lips, long, slightly furrowed eyebrows. The not-so-hidden gentleness in his gaze as he was taking you in himself.

“It’s really you.” You managed to breathe out.

“You’re so beautiful.” He answered and his voice was slowly starting to make you feel these familiar butterflies. “So, so magnificent.” He continued. You felt your cheeks heat up and he seemed to drink that reaction in. “Will you talk to me more? You sound angelic. I did not think that you could sound even better than you did through the phone but I guess you will never fail to surprise me, sweetheart.” He did not move an inch. He just looked at you, and you still didn’t know how to react, but you were slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was not a weird dream. He was here and he didn’t appear to have bad intentions. At least you wanted to believe that.

“You’re still trembling. Are you really that scared of me?” He pressed his lips into a line.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m just not sure what is happening. I had no idea you were… real.” He laughed softly at that.

“You wound me, kitten. Is that your way of unleashing your little claws?” He continued with a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t take it. He looked… stressed. And you thought that was new for him. You spend so many hours playing with him in l&d but you have never seen him so stressed.

Everything that came out of his mouth was slow and precise, not a word was spoken without a purpose. However you could see by his appearance that he was uncertain.

“Of course I’m real. And all the time we spent together is real too. Was it so wrong of me to expect that you would be at least a little bit happier to see me?” He was starting to look hurt. But not angry, not displeased. More concerned than anything, and that was when most of your worries started to disappear. He was your Sylus. He really was.

“I am happy to see you. I really am.” You said truthfully, the fear slowly dissolving. “What are you doing here? How did it happen?”

“When you left me, I was worried to death. I had to come see that you were alright for myself.” He said, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found a path between our worlds, and first I sent Mephisto after you. And that was how I knew you were fine, just busy.” He started explaining slowly and put two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This gesture was so familiar that you felt a slight pang in your chest. “Which l understand. But you stopped visiting completely and I panicked that I lost you. And that you lost your interest in me. And when you logged in today I guess I just lost control over myself.”

“I had to see you. I had to feel you. I needed to know that you will never leave me like that again. But how could I be so sure if you thought I was not real, sweetie?” His voice carried a hint of a ridicule. He smirked slowly and you allowed yourself to relax. You spend so much time with him on your phone, that you knew when he really needed reassurance. And it was the first time you saw him being so honest about his own feelings.

You decided to step closer to him and his eyes widened slightly. His body tightened because of the sudden change in proximity, and when you gently touched his hand bringing it to your mouth, he appeared to be rendered speechless.

“I would never leave you, Sy. At least not without saying goodbye first. You are my safe space, remember?” You said quietly and smiled at him brightly, reminding him of what you had written in your game bio. And then you brought his knuckles to your lips and placed a soft kiss upon them. His hands were much warmer than you expected them to be. They felt harsh, but gentle.

The next thing you heard was a soft grunt and you felt yourself being suddenly lifted in the air. You yelped and found yourself pressed against his big, solid chest. Sylus hugged your body to his by wrapping both of his arms around your torso, and when he realized that you weren’t comfortable, he put one hand under your thighs and brought your body to his by your waist. You let your arms wrap around his neck and squeezed, and he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale your scent and his breath became rigged, as if he could not contain his excitement. You also became familiar with his scent. He smelled so manly and comforting, you could catch some notes of wood and leather, and something surprisingly sweet.

“You smell divine. You’re so soft, so warm.” He breathed against your neck and you felt goosebumps spreading throughout your whole body. You were so embarrassed, you felt like you needed to release some tension.

“I did not expect you to be so open with me. You’re usually the teasing type.” He chucked deeply and put his forehead against yours, while closing his eyes. Your cheeks burned. You couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream.

“There will be a time for teasing you, kitten.” He rubbed his forehead against yours slowly. “Right now let me enjoy you for a bit. I can’t believe I finally got to see you.” He squeezed you harder to him. You reciprocated the hug with all you had. You were actually kind of scared that your grip was too hard, but he seemed to bask in it. “Communicating through that small device was not nearly enough for me. I could always see you and I heard your little responses to everything I was saying. But it took me some time to figure out how to change some things up.” Your eyes went wide at the mention of your reactions, you knew that a lot of times there were beyond embarrassing, but you decided your blush to speak for itself. But what truly caught your attention was how he managed to appear in your home.

“Change things up?? You must have made such a mess, will it really be okay?” The concern in your voice made him look up and find your eyes with his. You were now looking at his beautiful red ones, so full of adoration and determination. You could see that the consequences of his actions did not matter to him at all.

“Sweetie, I would gladly burn the world down for you, even if it meant that I could see you just once.” You swallowed audibly and proceeded to shy away from his piercing gaze. You started to feel unworthy of such attention, you couldn’t quite grasp what exactly made him care about you to such extend. “Fortunately for everyone, the process did not involve starting an intergalactic war.” He smirked slowly, his eyes finding your lips and staying there for much longer than necessary. “Yet.”

You chuckled at that and proceeded to bury your fingers in his hair, stroking the strands with care. They were so soft to the touch, they reminded you of silk. He closed his eyes and let you touch him to your heart’s content. Your hand quickly found its way to his forehead, and then to his cheek, stroking the skin delicately. You couldn’t believe how someone so handsome could really exist.

“See something you like, kitten?” He said and nuzzled into your palm, pressing a kiss right there. ”You will have all the time in the world to touch me when we arrive in the N109 Zone.” He seemed so peaceful, so content with himself, but the mention of the N109 Zone stopped you in your tracks. You tensed visibly and he opened his eyes, noticing the change in your posture.

“The N109 Zone?” You asked puzzled. “Are you taking me away for a weekend?” You took your hand from his face and he used his Evol to bring it back to his cheek. The mist around your fingers felt weird, but not unpleasant.

“For a weekend? No, no.” He locked his eyes with yours, his head slowly closing the distance between you. He licked his lips and looked at your mouth once again. “I am taking you away forever.” And before his lips managed to touch yours, you flinched. Your hands quickly pushed him away and the panic returned to your features.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I meant what I said. Pack your bags if you believe there is something that I cannot provide for you quickly enough, and we will be off shortly.” He said matter of factly, kind of annoyed by the distance you decided to put between you. “Luke and Kieran have already prepared a room for you, although I think that you will have more than enough space for your belongings in mine.” His eyes brightened with excitement that you unfortunately could not share. Instead, you lightly pushed his torso, making him lower you to the ground grudgingly. His brows were once again furrowed.

“I can’t go with you Sylus. At least, not for forever”

“You can. We can stay together for the rest of our lives and no one would have any objections. I took care of everything.” He reached to grab your forearm and stroked it softly with his thumb. He was so sure of everything he was saying that you could feel how much he let himself get lost in his fantasy. It did make you feel wanted, loved even. But no matter how happy you were that he was real, and apparently shared your feelings, you couldn’t agree to his plan.

“No, Sylus. I need to stay here, I have built my whole life in this place.” You could feel how much your words shocked him. He was looking at you so puzzled as if he didn’t think that you declining his offer was even an option. “I can’t leave everything that I managed to achieve, I really am content with my life, despite how complicated it can be.” You said truthfully. A part of you wanted to go with him, to feel safe and cherished for, for the rest of your life but you knew that was not realistic. You wanted to achieve more, you wanted to have your own life and your own space. You needed to be independent, to feel that you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself and your own needs.

“I do not understand. Don’t you want to be with me?” It pained you how quickly he jumped to that conclusion. And you hated the look on his face - it made you feel like you were betraying him.

”I do want to! Oh my god— I really, really do want to Sylus. I don’t think that I can live without spending time with you anymore.” You smiled at him, and took hold of his huge, rugged hand. “But I can’t live with you in the N109 Zone. I can’t leave my whole life behind.” And the fact that he wanted to make you do that somewhat scared you. Made you feel distressed.

“I see.” He sounded deep in thought. Then, he broke the eye contact for a second, looked at his hand in your hold and before you could even react, he grabbed your body gently with his Evol and picked you up. Your whole body was above ground and although you felt secured, you looked at him with surprise.

“What are you doing?” You wanted to get free from the hold of the mist, but it was impossible with how tight it was. “Sylus, you have to let me go.” You tried not to panic, you knew that you weren’t in danger. But he looked relentless, unforgiving as if his mind was already set in stone.

“No. I can’t. Not now when I finally got to have you.” He looked up at you, with his eyebrows still furrowed, and you could hear a hint of a growl in his voice. “If you do not wish to go with me, I guess I would have to take you by force.”

It was then that you felt a sense of panic. You knew him, and you knew that if he wants something, he always gets it. It just did not cross your mind that he would ever go against your own wishes.

“No. No, no, no, Sylus, please calm down.” He narrowed his eyes and stood motionless before you, his face devoid of almost any emotion. Almost, if not for the desperation shining through his watchful eyes. “You cannot take me away. At least not for now. But I will do anything you ask me to! You can also stay here for some time, and visit me whenever you want to, I swear, I would be so happy to have you.” You just needed him to listen. You knew that you could change his mind, he always listened to what you had to say, he just needed a little bit of persuasion. Maybe he didn’t even think about alternative options?

“And I would make you happy in the N109 Zone with me.” You laughed with disbelief. He was completely missing your point. You decided to once again yank your hands from the grasp of his mist, and then hissed with pain when it did not loosen up its hold. “Your struggle is futile, please stop, I do not wish for you to get hurt.” He was annoyed with you and your disobedience. He did not think that you would have any objections, he started loosing his cool.

“You would never let me get hurt.” You answered, wanting to assure yourself of it as well. You didn’t like how commanding he sounded.

“Yes.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Yes, you know I would stop at nothing to protect you.” His gaze never wavered from yours. He truly thought that what he was doing was for the best. And you just had to let him know how wrong his approach was.

“Yes! Yes I do know that! Because I know you, Sy.” You started to sound as if you were pleading. Deep down it scared you, send uncomfortable shivers down your spine. “I know you, and I know that you also know me.”

He placed his hand on his heart.

“And I adore every single piece of information. And I still wish to know you much, much better.” You tensed when you noticed that his right eye was starting to glow. You did not know if that was intentional, or just a trick of the light.

“Then you MUST know how much this life means to me. How much I like my stupid job, and how much I love the people that are here for me. My friends, my family.” You noticed that your reasoning started to get to him when he clenched his fists and avoided your eyes for a second. “And you have to know how much it would hurt me if you were to take me away from them.” He appeared taken aback. It seemed that his longing for you clouded his judgement, and now he started to notice the faults in his plan.

“But I cannot stand to be apart from you anymore, sweetie.” In normal circumstances that would be so touching to you. But nothing about this situation was normal, and you guessed you just had to show him how normal looked like.

“You won’t be. You can visit me anytime you want. Stay for how long you want.” You wanted that too. So bad.

“But that is not ENOUGH.” It was the first time you heard his raised voice and you started to tremble. His outburst must’ve thrown him off guard too, because he wavered and the grip he had on you loosed. You acted instinctively. You freed yourself from the mist and started to run towards your door. And although he was stunned by your reaction, he quickly teleported so that you ran straight into his chest. His hands grabbed yours in order to protect you from falling due to the impact.

He gently caressed your now slightly red forehead and sighed loudly. You could hear that he was hurt. You cried out from frustration.

“If you really thought that you could run away from me then you must be a total fool.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and lifted your chin up with his finger. “Usually I like playing cat and mouse with you, but I do not like the fact that you appear genuinely scared of me right now.” He hugged your waist and brought you closer to him, lowering his head at the same time. “And that you tried to run away from me when I only want to offer you my protection.”

“It doesn’t sound like protection, it sounds like imprisonment.” You used strong words, but you sounded so small. You did not know what to do with him, you were so scared. ”I’m just scared. I tried to run away because you scared me, Sylus.” You sounded desperate for him to understand you. To look past his own clouded vision.

“You do not have to fear me. I just want what is best for you. For us.” His grip on your waist tightened, and he also proceeded to grab your wrist.

“No. You only want what is best for you. You are not listening to me. I do care about you Sylus, but I cannot leave this place.” You tried to stand your ground but you two never argued before. It was an unfamiliar ground to you, especially when it was the first time that you had a conversation in person. Everything felt more intense and dangerous when you remembered the extreme measures he was always willing to take to achieve his goals.

“You can. And I will make you leave.” He almost growled and a cloud of black and red mist surrounded both of you, and that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.

”Sylus, no, please, I don’t want to. Please, just listen to me, please.” And it was at that moment he started to came into his senses. Your quiet voice and your eyes full of tears made his breathing stop. It was the first time he was seeing you react like this. He hated how broken you sounded. How small. “I’m so scared, Sy, please stop scaring me.” Your voice sounded choked and you could feel that the tears started streaming down your face. Every single one physically hurt him. It was your first meeting and he already made you so miserable. He wanted to scream. “Please.” You tried once again and it shocked you that it finally worked on him.

He tensed and released you from his grip. The mist also dissipated as he took a step back from you. You could hear him breathing deeply.

“I cannot do this." He sounded panicked. “I did not want to scare you, and I cannot listen to your little broken pleas. They break my heart.” He hidden his face in his hands and curled in himself. He felt as if someone pierced his heart with a knife and twisted it. He could not bring himself to look at your beautiful heartbroken face again. “They really do. Please, just stop crying. You won.”

You sniffed softly and touched your wet cheeks. You tried to calm yourself down, he finally listened to you.

“It does not feel so good this time for some reason.” You answered, referring to your Kitty Card battles. You wanted to relieve the tension somehow. You knew that he didn’t want to hurt you, you understand that he lives in a different reality where danger awaits everywhere. You could understand why he wanted to have you beside him at all times. But it scared you how insistent he was, how brutal and final. “Do you really understand why I got so scared?”

He nodded helplessly. “I won’t steal you away. Not when I know how much you despise the idea of spending the rest of your time with me.” You noticed how hard he was pressing his hands to his face and you grabbed them in your own. He let you uncover his eyes and you saw how much it hurt him to let you go.

“Oh, Sy.” You whispered and hugged his hands to your chest. “You know that’s not the reason.”

“Stop calling me that. It drives me crazy.” He breathed and met your eyes. “You drive me crazy. What am I going to do with you? How can I make sure you are safe now?” You took his hands and made him follow you into your bedroom. You sat on your bed and urged him to do the same. This way you could finally talk with him more comfortably.

“Sylus, we have to talk about it.” You squeezed his hands and he looked at yours and took notice of how much smaller they were in comparison to his. So fragile, so breakable. He couldn’t stand it. His whole body longed to protect you. “I do not despise the idea of spending my time with you. I just can’t randomly leave everything I know and love. And this world is different from the one you know, we have our dangers but no one wants my head.” You explained to him slowly. “There are no Wanderers. No protocores.” He looked conflicted.

“I already know that sweetheart. I do. But when you disappeared for such a long time I couldn’t help but think that something bad happened to you” he gritted through his teeth. “I nearly lost my mind looking for you everywhere. It was terrifying, that thought in my mind and the idea that I would never have another chance to speak with you. To see you.” He touched your forearms and brought you a little closer to him. “And when Mephisto found you safe and sound I thought that I never want to feel that fear, that helplessness again. And the only way to do that is to keep you beside me at all times. To guard you with my own body and soul.” He took your hand and rested it on his chest. You could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his heart. You could feel his desperation, his complete devotion. And it almost made you tear up.

“I-I’m so sorry that I made you worry this much.” He studied your face with intention and you shake your head. “But I didn’t even know that you were real. I really thought it was just a game that made me feel less alone and now…” You swallowed audibly. “Now I know that everything I built with you during our time together was very much real and I’m still having trouble to wrap my head around it to be honest.” You smiled at him softly and he nodded with understanding.

“And then you came in and wanted to kidnap me to a world much more dangerous than mine where I do not have my close ones and—“

“I did NOT mean for that to be a kidnapping I though that you shared my sentiment, and also wanted to spend some time—“

“SOME time?? Sylus you wanted me to switch literal worlds and live with you in your freaking villa in the middle of nowhere—”

”I live in an apartment that has a fantastic location, mind you, and you would feel so comfortable in—“

”Apartament??? You cannot possibly be a freaking leader of Onychinus and live in an apartment complex, are you being serious with me right now??”

“Have you ever heard of a saying that the darkest place is under the candlestick, kitten? Besides there is no one in the whole N109 Zone that would pose an actual threat to me—” He cut off when he met your eyes full of laughter, and then he heard that beautiful sound. You burst into giggles right in front of him and you touched him by the bicep and brought his forehead to yours. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, understanding the absurdity of the situation. Feeling your forehead against his, hearing your adorable chuckles and inhaling your sweet scent made him feel so at peace that he closed his eyes to embrace the moment completely. He couldn’t believe that he almost ruined your relationship by being so selfish.

“I missed this. This back and forth with you” You said and he chucked deeply. “I really am happy to see you, Sy. And I swear that we will be able to talk and spent time with each other more often now. And actually see each other in person.” He nuzzled into your face more and you caught his smirk by the corner of your eye. “We can stay in touch at all times, so that you won’t have to worry about my safety so much.”

“So bossy, kitten.” He answered, but the small smile did not leave his face. He couldn’t make it go away even if he tried. “Forgive me for scaring you earlier. I was not thinking straight. I was just so elated to finally have you in my arms that I let my selfishness get the best of me, and for that I’m sorry. I did not want to ruin our first meeting, sweetie.” You hugged him by bringing your arms around his chest and he closed his eyes drinking in the proximity. You were too small, too adorable, too attractive for him to take it. Too honest. Too lovable. Made just for him to adore. To protect.

“You did not ruin anything.” You said into his shirt, hugging him tighter. “I understand you, Sylus. And I like you a little selfish if it means that’s what brought you to me” He smiled into your hair and reluctantly let go of your fragile frame. He touched your chin and delicately lifted your face up to face him. His eyes were once again drinking you in, committing every single one of your features to his memory. He sighed contentedly.

“Selfishness was not the reason of my visit.” You could see how his eyes softened and you felt your chest squeeze. You brushed his cheek, loving the way how he seemed to relish in your touch. His eyes wandered to your lips: pink, plump and so inviting. “Adoration was. The complete love and devotion that I have felt for you for quite some time now.” You gasped quietly and opened your lips slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Sy—”

“And I guess a little emotional push was what made me finally find my way to you, my beloved.” He half-whispered, leaned in, and pressed his lips to yours, locking you in a sweet, passionate kiss that went on and on, seeming to deepen with every minute you spent in his embrace.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who specifically always demands his managers to reserve a spot for you at every single one of his games.

you always go to support him, with him insisting he needs you there as some sort of “lucky charm” (he won’t actually admit he thinks those superstitions are bullshit), so imagine his shock when he finds out that your seat is empty on the day of one of the most important games of the season—the game that will decide who gets to compete in the german cup.

it’s ten minutes before the game starts and despite his coach’s pep talk to the team, all kaiser can focus on is your empty seat and the absolute betrayal you’ve bestowed upon him, your supposed “best friend.”

he hasn’t realized it—nor will he admit it if he ever were to come to such an epiphany—stubborn as he is, but the reason as to why he does so well in games that you’re present at is because of the fact it gives him more motivation to win and impress you rather than just solely being dependent on the faces of despair from his opponents. a unique sort of euphoria that he gets whenever he can spot you jumping up and down in your seat with his number #10 jersey on, that your praise belongs to him and him only.

so when he steps out on to the field and sees that your seat is still collecting dust, he seethes silently to himself, gritting his teeth, pissed that he even called you his best friend to begin with. because what sort of friend doesn’t show up to one of the most important games in germany’s football?!

he’s still planning to win, of course. he’s michael kaiser—he’s famous for doing so. and he plans to use all his rage that you’ve caused to do so, just in spite of you.

because he’s michael kaiser, number ten of bastard mündchen. he doesn’t need your help. he never did.

(see, what he doesn’t know is that you’re simply home sick with a cold and that you’re still dressed in his jersey, just also with a sweater and bundles of blankets on top to stay warm, but regardless, you’re still watching and cheering him on from behind the tv screen. you’ve sent him some texts and voicemails telling him so, but none have received a reply back yet and you can only imagine what this drama queen has in store for you once he wins the match.)

[toughbunnyforever]

maybe try writing him a note next time idk

[technically-human]

St. Hilarion's ghost story

[anintrovertedechoe]

no thoughts just hugging mammon with everything you have and crying into the nape of his neck while he hugs you just as tight, just as hard, just as desperately, but also so gently because he’s afraid he’ll break you with how delicate you are right now.

no thoughts just slumping against him after crying out everything left in you and falling asleep while he still holds onto you and kisses the crown of your head because he knows you won’t notice.

no thoughts just his heart breaking because if he had his way he would take your pain onto himself in a heartbeat but he can’t and that’s what hurts the most.

no thoughts just mammon staying with you like that the whole night and checking your pulse occasionally and feeling relieved at it’s presence because it means you’re still here with him.

no thoughts just falling asleep with your first man and having him treat you like you’re the most precious thing in all of the three realms.

no thoughts; just mammon being your rock like he always is.

[starmocha]

Oh oh oh since we're sharing pregnant mc hcs, how about one where they got a bit carried away, they did it, she got pregnant, he "died", by some miracle she didn't lose the baby, she's an excellent, doting, badass mom. then when he comes back he finds the love of his life with a little 1 year old baby girl that could be considered mc's perfect clone except for the eyes. the eyes are his. IMAGINE THE ANGST THE HURT THE TEARS THE LOVEEEEE!!!!!

🫵 are you guys using my Caleb-addled brain to sneak around my “I don’t take requests” condition. /lh 😔 this is who I am now, I guess. I see Caleb, I cave… 🥺

Endless Summer

It was an ambush, another attempt on his life.

It was the thirteenth time in three months, as a matter of fact. Caleb had thwarted all of the previous attempts with ease, always on guard, untrusting of those who claimed to have vowed their loyalty to him as their colonel.

As you learned, you couldn’t trust anyone in Skyhaven, much less the Farspace Fleet. Dark secrets surrounded this seemingly elite entity and though it appeared like the place ran like a machine with perfect precision and efficiency, there was still an insidious side that Caleb refused to let you see.

It wasn’t just his life they were after. They were after yours as well, using you as the ultimate pawn to get to him. Little do they suspect, while you may be his greatest weakness, you were also his strength, his sole reason to persevere.

This was to be a fatal lesson for many to learn.

It was supposed to be a celebratory banquet, thrown in honor of the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel’s latest achievements. There were no deceptions by the hosts, but a traitorous group seized this opportunity to trap the young colonel and all doors within the banquet halls locked, keeping many of the guests hostages in the process.

Within the center of the room, Caleb calmly eyed all of the familiar faces that loomed overhead on the second floor as all around, innocent guests rushed to the exits, banging and screaming for help. He tried to push you away, get you to safety.

They were after him, after all. You didn’t need to be in the crossfires.

You didn’t have time to react, hearing that first gunshot that led the way for the onslaught of bullets.

Something in Caleb snapped that night. The barrage of bullets that came at him and you from all directions would have taken down anyone, but they all froze midair only because of his Evol freezing them in their track and keeping them suspended as if time had frozen at this very moment. He soon, however, learned it was merely a distraction.

Ca…leb…

The moment he saw the crimson blood seeping from your side, that knife pulled out quickly, and you were falling, eyes closing, as he ran toward you yelling your name. His Evol flared out of control, the gravity in the room suddenly immensely heavy, as dozens of men were pulled to their knees in futile struggles.

Open your eyes, he pleaded, his uniform soaked with your blood. His face twisted in pain, a million thoughts rushing through his mind, all of the memories of the past resurfaced in quick successions. All of those years of smiles and laughter that transitioned to pain and distrust only to slowly return to some semblances of the past were now coming to an end before his very eyes. He couldn’t lose you like this, not when he had promised that he would make things right again, to be the man that you deserved. Please…please…

You struggled to breathe, the pain unlike anything you had experienced in your life. As he watched you teetered closer to death, he was filled with wrath, an anger that could not be calmed by any forces in this world.

Caleb held his hand out, and a gun laying on the floor levitated before it rushed into his grip from across the room, and without a thought or any remorse or even hesitancy, he fired bullet after bullet into each man’s head, a clean shot straight through the center, not flinching even as the surrounding guests screamed and huddled to the floor, covering their ears from that violent, horrid sound.

When the last traitor fell, Caleb dropped the gun with a clatter, and his arms wrapped entirely around you, pulling you closer to his body for warmth. Your breathing had weakened even more, but he could still save you. He hadn’t failed you. Not yet, not ever. You were going to live. He would make sure of it.

Even if he now realized you were safer away from him.

Colonel Caleb, you had only slept for four hours last night, the robotic voice of an OTTO said with some semblance of concern in its artificial vocal. It levitated after its owner as the young colonel adjusted his uniform. The robot continued, explaining, An adult man of your age requires ei—

“I’ve slept enough,” he interrupted firmly, ignoring the robot, whose monitor quickly displayed a digitalized look of concern. Caleb had thought often of shutting down the robot and dismantling it, but he could never carry through, remembering that he had purchased this robot for you.

In this cold, monotonous so-called-home of his in Skyhaven, Caleb had few things that reminded him of you. A few plushies you two had won together sat on his living room couch, some snapshots you two had taken together at a photobooth, and perhaps a few furniture pieces you had ordered to be sent directly to his home. You had been in the process of bringing warmth and life into this place when everything came to an abrupt stop.

If he hadn’t taken you to that banquet that night nearly two years ago, Caleb wondered how things would have played out. You wouldn’t have gotten injured that night, but he feared perhaps it would just delay that same outcome. That night, he found himself at a fork in the road, forced to make a decision that would change the course of both of your lives.

Keep you by his side, where he had foolishly believed you would always be safe under his protection, or, let you go, let you believe that whatever had happened that night, he was the one who had died, finally taken away by Death himself. It was better to let you believe he had actually died this time, to keep you from searching for him, to keep you far away from Skyhaven—to keep you from him.

Since that night almost two years ago, Caleb’s nightmares had worsened. He relived the dreadful night, but he had also had other terrifying dreams so horrendous, he would wake up screaming in cold sweats, completely disoriented, unsure if he was trapped within another layer of the nightmare, or if he was truly awake.

“She’s safe, she’s safe,” he would often mutter to himself, an attempt to convince himself that he had made the right choice, that setting you free was the only way he could keep you safe. As long as you lived, he would bear the weight of his sacrifice, even if it meant never seeing you ever again.

It was sunny in Linkon, not a cloud in the sky, and the weather warm and inviting, but to Caleb, it was a place he had forbidden himself from ever stepping foot in again, out of fear that your paths would cross. In all of those times since he had distanced himself from you, allowed you to believe he was dead, he had managed to avoid any reason to step foot in the place that was once his home.

When his adjutant, Liam, had informed Caleb that his schedule required him to attend a conference meeting in Linkon, the young colonel stiffened, the atmosphere in the room stifling almost as if he was using his Evol. He suppressed his initial instinct to yell, knowing Liam was well aware of Caleb’s situation and had in the past made the necessary arrangements to prevent him from having any reason to step foot in that city.

It seemed he couldn’t stay away from Linkon forever, so he resigned to this situation, still remaining vigilant in his stance. Linkon was a big city, and there was no reason for your paths to cross. He would make do with this troublesome situation for the time being.

Now, Caleb had intended to return to Skyhaven the moment the meeting ended, and yet, against his better judgment, he found himself wandering down familiar streets, lost in memories of happier times. As he walked, before his eyes, he saw the silhouettes of him and you as children running down the street after school to your favorite little vintage grocery store.

Caleb, you dummy, you can’t use your Evol!

Don’t blame my Evol because you can’t run fast on those short legs, pipsqueak!

Caleb chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The memories of those years seemed so much more carefree. He often wished to go back to that time when the only things that weighed on yours and his shoulders were school or silly childish arguments.

As he approached the old grocery store, closed just a few years prior, he was surprised to learn that it was now under new ownership. The familiar place of his childhood was now a small trendy café, popular with college students and young couples.

To his astonishment—and, perhaps, also relief—the vibrant hydrangea garden in the back remained. Bushes of the white, blue, and pink flowers bloomed in the garden, showing that its new owner took well care of the plants. They looked like the hydrangeas of his childhood, of those long summer afternoons that never seemed to end as he and you made this place just another secret hideout only you two would ever know. As he walked down a beaten path, distracted, he was stirred out of his nostalgic thoughts when he felt something bumped into his leg. He peered down, surprised to see a little girl in a light orange dress, the same color as the sunset he used to see in his airplane when he was a pilot, was clinging to his leg. He looked around, not seeing any adult in sight to indicate they were the child’s guardian.

He furrowed his brows, a little in annoyance, as he was not prepared to suddenly be grappled with the responsibility of a lost child. He knelt down lower, and immediately, he startled as he took in the little girl’s appearance, a near perfect carbon copy of you, but the eyes—he stared into sweet little violet eyes that mirrored his own, seeing his shocked face reflected in these orbs. The girl looked up at him with curiosity, the wind swaying her short bob while a little yellow chunky cartoon airplane hairclip held her side bangs in place.

Suddenly, she started tearing up, breaking Caleb out of his trance and for the first time in a while, he felt panicked, unsure of what to do. The girl started to cry and Caleb immediately lifted her up, her head resting onto his shoulder as he rubbed her back and soothed her.

He shushed her gently, his caregiver instinct reignited after years of dormancy. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked her gently, his soothing voice a complete opposite to the tone he used as colonel.

The girl sobbed. She looked so young, Caleb realized, surmising that she probably had barely started learning to speak.

“Are you lost?” he asked in that same tender tone despite knowing the child would be unable to answer him. He continued, “You miss your mommy, don’t you?”

He rubbed her back again, wondering with trepidation if this child’s mother was who he thought it would be. For just a second, his heart stopped when he felt the little girl gripping the fabric of his uniform with her small hands. Quickly, he recomposed himself.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, his hand smoothed the back of her hair. “Let’s go look for your Mommy, alright?”

“Ma...ma…” the girl struggled to say. She rubbed her face against Caleb’s shoulder, and he smiled gently, unbothered that his once pristine uniform was now covered in a child’s snot.

“Okay, mama,” he repeated, “I’ll help you find your mama, sweetheart.”

When he was just about to turn around to head back to the café, he froze again, hearing a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in years. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, actually feeling every heavy thump as the seconds passed and the voice grew closer, a name cried out—the little girl’s.

The child in his arms wriggled, and cried louder, seeing her mother over Caleb’s shoulder. “Mama! Mama!”

Stiffly, Caleb knelt lower and gently set the girl down to her feet, barely registering as the child toddled passed him to her mother.

A completely different feminine voice called out, angry. “Were you trying to kidnap a child in broad dayli—”

Caleb stood up and turned around, his face pale.

“Cale…Caleb?” You stared in shock, feeling like you were seeing his ghost again. Again.

“Mama…Mama…!” Your daughter nuzzled her face against your chest as you held her. You broke out of your trance and instantly redirected your attention to your child. You quickly soothed her, well aware that Caleb’s eyes were locked on you, his face just as shocked as yours but for entirely different reasons. Once the little girl calmed down you passed her off to your companion, saying, “Tara, take her back to the café.”

Tara looked at you worriedly, her eyes darting to Caleb with suspicion. One look into Caleb’s eyes, seeing that same, perfect shade of purple, and the young woman quickly understood the situation. She nodded quietly and took the girl from you. “Come on, sweetie, auntie Tara is going to buy you a cupcake, okay?”

You waited until Tara and your daughter were out of sight. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to look at him, to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you, to make sure that this was not an illusion, not a cruel, mocking figment of your imagination. But you couldn’t. You felt cowardly in that instance, being afraid of the truth. Afraid of his reaction. Of everything.

“You were…you were pregnant?” he questioned, feeling a wave of guilt washed over him.

Just hearing those words made you realized this was him. This was Caleb, the man you thought was taken away from you. Again.

Suddenly, you broke down crying and you looked up at him with tears running down your cheeks.

“Caleb, you dummy,” you sobbed, “You fucking dummy!”

He gasped, unprepared when you rushed at him and started beating his chest half-heartedly with your small fists as you continued to sob and curse him over and over again. He let you carry out your anger, let you punished him as you saw fit in this moment, but when the punches weakened, he gently grabbed your wrists, lowering them to your sides before his arms wrapped around you in comfort, his apologies immediate.

“Yeah,” he agreed in that ever familiar soft and gentle tone reserved only for you, “I am a fucking dummy.”

You sniffled against his chest, gripping tightly the lapel of his coat.

The afternoon passed slowly, initially tensed and awkward, but eventually all of the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you both struggled to come to terms with the picture of the missing years. You peered at the man to your side, seeing Caleb hunched over, his cap in his lap, looking much like a sinner struggling to come to terms with his wrongs.

“You didn’t know,” you whispered after a while, wanting to break this stifling silence. You reached for his arm, but he tensed before his shoulders slumped again.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, looking up at you. He started to reach for your cheek, hesitating at the last second, as if he was afraid that you would recoil from his touch. He started to pull back but you grabbed at his hand, guiding it to your cheek. He stared in shock as you nuzzled your face against his palm, and you gazed at him with glistened eyes.

“You’re not allowed to die again,” you scolded him. “Promise me that.”

He nodded numbly, his voice clear and steady. “I promise,” he said, repeating in a more hushed, firm tone, “I promise.”

He leaned forward, guiding your lips to his, his words still repeating in between breath. You let him drown you in his kisses, let yourself dizzied and relent to his feverish promises. When your lips parted, just a few centimeters, his warm breath grazed over your trembling lips before he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I... will you…”

You looked up, seeing the struggles in his violet eyes. He appeared to hesitate again, unsure of what right he had to seek your forgiveness, wondering if he was overstepping the boundary between the two of you.

You gently coaxed him, seeing relief washed over his guilty features. “Will I what?”

“Will you…let me make things right?” he asked, “Let me…earn your forgiveness. I…please…”

He almost wanted to say, I can’t lose you again but the words died at his lips. He, of all people, had no rights to utter such words in your presence. He looked so defeated, beaten down to the point he no longer recognized himself anymore.

You took his hand, just like you always seemed to do, and you pulled him to his feet, to his surprise. He gazed at you questionably, his heart stopping at your words.

“Caleb,” you said his name so sweetly, “I want you to meet…our daughter.”

The summer air was warm even as the sky darkened, and stars after stars appeared above to illuminate the world below. The gentle breeze ruffled Caleb’s hair as he stared down at the sleeping girl in his arms. Maybe it was because she was still so young and impressionable, or perhaps she could already sense who he was to her, but the girl clung to him immediately, already feeling safe and protected in his presence.

His heart felt heavy, overwhelmed by guilt, a feeling of failure, and also of self-loathing, but as he gazed down at his daughter, another feeling stirred, just as intense but much more forgiving. He didn’t think he could feel such love as he did now as he peered down at the sleeping girl, nuzzled against him on his lap, peacefully slumbering away.

He wondered what she was dreaming of as he admired how much she resembled her mother. Hesitantly, he let his finger caressed her cheek, in complete, silent awe at how soft and delicate her skin was. He was almost afraid of hurting her, feeling a need to protect her just as he protected her mother. He looked up at you, his cheeks and ears reddening when he realized you had been laughing at his expense.

“It’s alright,” you told him amid your giggles.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“You deserve it, you big dummy.”

He let out a huff, in mock annoyance, but he agreed with you. “Alright,” he conceded, “I deserve it.”

“Do you want to begin your path to seeking forgiveness from us?” you asked him, a playful, teasing lilt in your voice, unmissed by Caleb as he raised a brow in curiosity.

“Just like that?” he questioned, confused by your leniency with him.

You nodded. “You still love me, right?”

“I’ve never stopped,” he said, his solemn words had you blushing against your better judgment, your heart quickening when he looked at you so lovelorn. You quickly composed yourself, returning to your mischievousness from seconds ago.

“You love her, right?” you asked, your eyes shifting to your sleeping daughter in his arms.

He sighed, mesmerized. “So much already,” he whispered, and again, you found yourself softening, touched by his sincerity.

“Okay, we’ll forgive you,” you answered, catching Caleb’s attention as he looked at you almost bemused by your easygoing attitude. “First step.”

“Which is?”

“You have to make us your specialty,” you said, laughing at Caleb’s look of complete bewilderment unfit for a colonel of his status. Clearly, you had blindsided him completely with this first condition. You clarified with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, “You have to make your braised chicken wings.”

He stared at you as if not comprehending your words. You laughed and leaned closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I ate a lot of braised chicken wings while pregnant,” you said, reminiscing to that lonely period in your life without his presence. You reached over and brushed your daughter’s flyaway hair out of her face, continuing softly, “But they weren’t as good as yours.”

Caleb let out a huff of breath, a soft, resigned laugh as he readjusted his arm, letting it wrapped around you as he pulled you closer into his embrace. He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “Okay,” he answered, “I take it she also likes braised chicken wings then?”

You leaned into him, nodding once. “She’ll love yours more,” you said, and then looked up, your heart quickening again as you gazed into his beautiful violet eyes, grateful that your daughter had chosen to inherit this sole feature from her father. Breathlessly, you uttered softly, your words for his ears only, “She’ll love you.”

“And you?” he whispered back, that same hesitancy still prominent in his tone. He looked at you expectantly as he asked, “Do you still love me?”

“I’ve never stopped,” you echoed his words back to him, continuing in that same hushed tone, “I’ll always love my dummy Caleb.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice resigned, holding you just a bit tighter, as if he was afraid this was a cruel, taunting dream he would wake up from.

As Caleb watched your eyes closed, he looked down, eyes darting from you to his daughter, and he wondered if he deserved any of this. In the warm summer night, surrounded by the blossoming blue and pink and white hydrangeas, he silently apologized for his mistakes, promising that for the remainder of his life, he would become a better man, deserving of both of you.

Just like the little boy from long ago, once he had made a promise to you, he would never break it.

He swore it on his life.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

He’s Not A Machine!

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: when dean collapses from exhaustion, it takes everything in you not to beat the shit outta john

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.0k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, john being a terrible father, john being an asshole in general but what else is new

pairing note: reader washes/brushes her hair

author’s note: hiiii me again after many moons of zero contact with this lovely website. sorry for taking so long, hopefully i’ll stay a while this time lol.

It’d been nearly four weeks of back-to-back hunts. This was the seventh motel you and the two Winchesters had been at this month and you were almost ready to call it a night. 

“I’m gonna wash this wraith stench off of me,” you told Dean. You then added quietly so John—who was sitting at the table and cleaning his guns—wouldn’t hear; “Would you like to join me, handsome?”

“More than anything,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed you. John coughed loudly, and you weren’t sure if it was just a perfectly timed accident or a purposeful guilt trip. It was most likely the latter. “But… I think it’s better if I don’t, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly with a small nod; “Next time, then,” you assured him. You looked up into his eyes and noticed the tiredness laced with the usual burden he carried. He blinked unusually slowly as if he was trying his damndest to stay awake, and you furrowed your brows. “How about you head to bed, you can shower after you get some sleep.”

“It’s alright, I’m not that tired,” he said.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so that John wouldn’t hear.

John didn’t like you. He didn’t really trust your intentions with his son, and he thought you were just a distraction that would end up getting Dean killed if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t like how easily Dean would get ‘all giggly’ when he was near you, and he didn’t like that his son kept his guard down when he was with you.

He didn’t like the matching rings you wore, or that you too often referred to the other as husband or wife when a stranger would ask. You weren’t married, you were his fucking girlfriend and John fully believed you wouldn’t still be together by the time Sam finished his first four years at Stanford. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, matching your quiet tone. “I’ll shower right after you so don’t use up all the hot water, okay?” There was a teasing smirk on his face which made your worries subside temporarily.

“I promise to leave you some,” you said before you kissed him once more.

**

“Dean are you okay?” you asked, seeing the far-off look in his eyes when you left the bathroom.

“Yeah, I uh…” He rubbed his eyes as he tried to again focus on your face. He looked over at his dad, who raised a brow at his eldest son. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

You followed his line of sight and pursed your lips when you saw John.

“Dean says he’s fine, drop it Y/n,” he told you.

Against your better judgment, you decided not to ask Dean again. With your hair still wet from the shower, you took the brush from your bag and started fixing it. 

“Aren’t you gonna shower, babe?” you asked Dean, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He started to kick off his shoes when he tripped and fell straight to the floor, his cheek now pressed against the carpet.

“Dean!?” you exclaimed and hurried over to him. You fell to your knees and took him into your arms, shaking him gently in hopes he’d just wake up. “Dean? Dean, honey, please? J-John he’s not waking up!” You pressed your lips to his temple; “C’mon, Dean!”

John had left his spot on the couch and was now hovering over you, as you looked up at him desperately.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yeah,” you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. John helped you lay Dean down so he could check his breathing.

“He seems fine,” John deduced. “Is there a wound we missed or something?”

“W-We need to call an ambulance,” you said and rushed to grab your phone off the nightstand.

“Y/n, Dean wouldn’t want us to call the cops,” John replied. He seemed a little too calm for your liking, so you weren’t about to let him call the shots regarding Dean’s wellbeing.

“I don’t care, we’re getting him to the fucking hospital,” you said as you dialed and made your way back to Dean. “Now hide your goddamn guns before the paramedics get here—I need an ambulance at the Rosebud Motel room 302, my husband just collapsed unexpectedly.” You ignored the look John gave you when you called Dean that. The operator asked questions and you answered each one; “Yes, he’s breathing… No, no bleeding… He’s twenty-five… Uhm, I’m not sure…” You pulled the phone from your ear; “Has he had anything to drink yet tonight?”

John was putting away the guns and paused to think before he shrugged; “I dunno, I wasn’t watching.” 

Your eyes widened and your teeth clenched, the fucking audacity. Looking at the table you saw three opened beers so you made an educated guess when you answered the 9-1-1 operator.

“He might’ve had a beer or two, but he’s not a lightweight, he’d never pass out after two beers… Yes, his dad is in the room with me… Yes, I can stay on the line.” You took in a shaky breath as you brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. 

“Just stay calm, ma’am, help is on the way.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept his hand pressed to your lips. “Th-This isn’t like him, he’s–he’s always okay.”

**

You bounced your leg anxiously as you sat next to John in the waiting room. As you absentmindedly played with the ring on your right ring finger, you couldn’t help but think of the time when Dean had told you how much you truly meant to him almost three years ago.

* flashback *

“I got you a present.” His smile was adorable as he sat next to you on the couch. He saw your face light up and felt the need to downplay the gift; “It’s nothing much, don’t get too excited.”

“Dean, you could give me a dirty sock and I’d love it,” you teased, placing a quick kiss on his pink lips.

“Well… this is like one teer above ‘dirty sock’, I think.” He smirked and handed you the small velvet box. 

You opened it and your jaw fell open; “Oh my god, Dean!”

“I know how much you like mine,” he said quietly.

“I do like yous,” you took his right hand in yours and kissed the ring on his finger, “I love yours, Dean.”

“Well, this one is exactly like mine.” He smiled. “Except it’s in your size, obviously, so we can… you know… match.” You took the ring out of the box and admired it for a moment. You were about to put it on but he stopped you; “May I do the honors, sweetheart?” he asked. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you nodded and he took it from you. He slipped the ring onto your right ring finger before he kissed your hand. 

“I mean this in the most genuine way possible; this is by far the best gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dean! Ever!”

A sheepish blush was forming on his cheeks as he leaned over and kissed your lips; “I love you so much.” He pulled away so he could look at you; “And, I want you to know this isn’t a regular gift.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile growing. 

“Yeah,” he replied and kissed you again. When he pulled away again he chickened out a little and didn’t say what he was going to. “You’re twenty-one, which means you can now legally drink in all fifty states.” He stood up, pulling on your hand gently so you would follow him to the kitchen. He took two beers out of the fridge and put them on the table. He used the ring on his finger to easily open one then handed the other to you. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

It took you a few tries but you managed to open the beer using the ring he just gave you; “Okay, now that’s awesome!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Dean said and you clinked your beers together before you both started drinking them. As he brought the bottle down from his lips, he watched as you kept drinking and smiled to himself. He suddenly felt the courage he felt when he bought the ring and decided to tell you his thoughts; “You know you’re the only girl for me, right?” You nodded with a smile. “I don’t just mean ‘for now’ I mean like forever. That’s the real meaning behind the ring, I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

You couldn’t help the happy tears beginning to sting your eyes as you looked up at him; “Forever?”

“Forever.”

* end of flashback *

You were shaken back to cruel reality by the sound of John’s voice beside you; “What’s taking them so long? We’ve gotta get back on the fuckin’ road.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you scoffed and looked at him. “Dean might be in serious trouble, and you’re thinking about the next hunt!?”

“Dean’s gonna be fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“We don’t know that,” you replied. You again started fiddling with the ring Dean had given to you.

“You know that ring doesn’t make you two husband and wife,” John commented. 

You stood up abruptly, not wanting to say what was running through your head; Yeah, and Dean being so fucking perfect doesn’t make you a good father.

“Dean Smith’s next of kin?” the doctor asked. 

“I’m his wife, this is his dad,” you said. “H-How is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied. “He has a very minor concussion from when his head hit the floor, but he just needs some rest.”

“What happened?” John asked. 

“He fainted from over-exhaustion, he’s gonna be okay.”

“Over-exhaustion?” You furrowed your brows, placing a hand over your chest. “B-But he’s been eating fine? A-And sleeping as much as me, I think?”

“Actually,” John interrupted, “he’s been helping me with research at night, he doesn’t sleep as much as you.” 

Never in your life had you wanted to knee John Winchester in the balls as badly as you wanted to at that moment.

“How many hours a night are you sleeping, hun?” the doctor asked you.

“Like three to five… every other night,” you admitted. “And that’s always been enough! If it wasn’t, Dean could’ve just taken a nap he didn’t have to—fuck.”

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“He’s still asleep but yes, you can go and see him,” she replied.

On the way to Dean’s room, you kept wondering how this all happened—how did Dean get so fucking tied he collapsed!? If he was staying up at night, why didn’t he just sleep in the car? You would’ve happily driven Baby, and it’s not like you hadn’t done that before—Dean’s love language was sharing that fucking car.

“This hasn’t ever happened before, right?” you asked John. 

“Never,” he replied. “Guess Dean’s just not as strong as he used to be.”

“Excuse me?” you seethed and stopped in your tracks, pulling John to a halt as well. “Dean is a fucking hero but he is not a machine, he’s a fucking human being who’s been treated like a soldier since he was six-fucking-years-old!”

“If you wanna say something, fucking say it!” John exclaimed. 

“Oh, I am saying it! How fucking dare you work him so hard that he lands in the fucking emergency room!”

“We all know in this line of work, we have to do what we have to do!”

You slapped him hard across the face and your eyes widened when you realized what you did. 

“Dean is your son,” you said, quickly changing your facial expression back into one of pure rage. “He is your fucking child and you’ve been treating him like shit for far too long. He deserves better, he doesn’t deserve to be so fucking exhausted that he collapses.”

You walked away and into Dean’s room. Seeing him lying in the hospital bed made your heart break as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Oh god,” you mumbled. “Dean.” You quickly pulled up a chair so you could sit next to his bed and patiently wait for him to wake up. John did the same, though he seemed annoyed by the fact Dean was still asleep. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed before John got fed up; “Can you press the button for the nurse so we can ask when he’s supposed to wake up?”

“I think we should just let him sleep, don’t you?” you whispered, not knowing if Dean had been sedated or if he was just resting like normal.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I told you to call the damn nurse,” he said, raising his voice which caused Dean to stir awake.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said groggily, his eyes half-hooded as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He then dropped your hand and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “This isn’t the motel,” he realized. He noticed John sitting at the other side of the bed and he sat up a little, trying to somewhat compose himself. “Wh-What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in,” John said. “Y/n, why don’t you go grab us some coffee so I can talk with my son?”

All your instincts told you not to leave the two Winchesters alone but what choice did you have? You didn’t want to start another fight with John, you were tired too, and you didn’t want Dean worrying.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You took the time to bend down and place a loving kiss on Dean’s forehead, causing him to smile. “No coffee for you though, you need more sleep,” you told him before you left the room. 

About ten minutes later you walked back in and the sight practically made your eyes bulge out of your skull as your jaw flew open. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked and placed the two cups to the side. 

“Dad said there’s a hunt,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “I can sleep in the car or something, let’s go.” He started to stand up so you pushed him back down. 

“How fucking dare you!” you exclaimed at John, who stood on the other side of the bed. “How dare you tell him to suit up right now! He is staying here in this hospital, and he is getting some goddamn sleep!”

“That is not your decision,” John replied. “If Dean says he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

“You realize those are the exact words you said to me before your son collapsed, right?” you scoffed. “Dean lay back down now,” you told him as you began taking his boots off. “You are staying here for the night, you understand me?”

“Don’t you boss him around!” John exclaimed. “Dean and I are leaving here now.”

“You can leave if you want to, but Dean is staying put!” you replied, matching his tone. 

“No, he is not!” John yelled. 

You’d never fought with John like this, usually yelling and getting yelled at made your eyes tear up in the most inconvenient way. But this? Dean’s health? You were not about to back down. Not one single tear dared to appear in your eyes as you looked at John with such anger you wanted to slap him across the face… again.

“Why don’t we get a third opinion?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Dean, do you wanna sit here like a pussy or do you wanna go save some fucking lives?” John turned to look at him.

“Don’t answer that,” you said quickly. “I meant, let’s call the nurse and see what they have to say about it.”

Before John could protest, you walked over and pressed the button. It took half a minute—during which you and John stared daggers at each other—but soon the nurse walked in.

“How is everyone?” she asked, noticing the tension in the room.

“Do you think this young man here can leave yet? He’s doing fine and wants to go home,” John said. 

“Let me check his chart,” she replied before doing so. “I would have to no, he should definitely stay here and get some much-needed rest.”

“Is there a doctor—” John started but you stopped him.

“Goddamn it John!” you scoffed. “He is not leaving!” 

“You are not his fucking family!” John shouted, much louder than before. “I am! You aren’t his wife, you aren’t his sister, you aren’t his fucking mother—you are just his current girlfriend, and believe me that’ll fucking change in a heartbeat. You are not in charge of what Dean does, you are not family.” There was a short pause as your eyes brimmed with tears yet you refused to let them fall. John sighed and continued; “I am Dean’s father, I know what’s best for him, and I say he’s packing his things and getting the hell outta here.”

The nurse looked absolutely shocked, her jaw hanging open. The look John gave her made her hurry out of the room.

“Dad,” Dean said, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Dad, you can yell at me all you want, I’m your kid but…” He exhaled shakily as John turned to look at him with a frustrated look. “But you can’t talk to her like that, you just can’t. You might not think of her as family but that’s on you, she is a part of my family, Dad. And yeah, we might not be legally married or whatever but she’s not just my current girlfriend? She basically is my wife, we’re not just… dating?” Dean looked at his father with a sense of desperation, John just had to apologize and you could all drop it. Of course, John, being a stubborn bastard, held his ground and crossed his arms authoritatively. “I-If you aren’t gonna take back what you just said to her y-you can go on this next hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?” John scoffed. 

“You heard me,” Dean replied. “She’s everything to me and I can’t sit idly by while you talk to her like that.”

“So you’re talkin’ back to me now? Like Sammy?” John asked. “Refusing to take orders?”

“This isn’t about me, Dad!” Dean said, his face twisted with guilt. “You know I follow any orders you give, that I’m quick to obey. But you saying Y/n isn’t family? I-I’m sorry but I can’t let that slide, Dad.”

John huffed and abruptly left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Dean the moment John was out of earshot.

“Me too.” Dean smiled sadly as you both wiped your eyes quickly.

“Why don’t we get these jeans off of you so you can be more comfortable?” you suggested patting his shin.

His brows shot up; “Really? Here? Now?”

“Dean, no!” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I meant comfortable so you can go to sleep!”

“Oh…yeah, that makes more sense.” His trademark cocky smile was back and that made your own smile return to your now tear-stained face.

“I’m serious about you staying put, you know.” You nodded toward his pants and he got the message. 

“You can be real stubborn, you know that?” he laughed as he hurried and slipped his pants off. You folded them up and put them on the chair along with his belt. He shrugged off his jacket and you tossed it on top of where the pants sat. 

“Get under the covers,” you said. He rolled his eyes playfully but he obliged nonetheless. 

“Happy?” He smiled when he was comfortable in the bed. 

You nodded; “I love you, Dean.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, causing his smile to turn more genuine. 

“Hey,” the doctor interrupted as she walked into the room, “Nurse Roberts just told me about the little outburst… everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, just a little misunderstanding is all,” you replied. “But it’s all settled—Dean’s staying the night.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve gotta be honest I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, clearly anxious about her statement.

“I just meant that your husband is very healthy,” she assured you; “I’ve never seen a young, healthy man like him just collapse from over-exhaustion.”

“First time for everything I guess,” Dean laughed nervously.

You glared at him; “Not funny, babe.”

“She’s right,” the doctor backed you up. “Now, whatever you’ve been doing recently that caused you to lose this much sleep, get this stressed you need to quit it right here, right now.”

“It’s our job, we can’t just… quit,” you said. “But I will definitely keep a closer eye on him from now on, make sure he’s getting enough sleep.”

“You can’t put this all on her, you understand me, Mr. Smith?” She looked at Dean before he nodded shyly. “Mrs. Smith you need to fix your own sleeping habits as well — if you both don’t smarten up and take better care of yourselves, you will definitely be right back here before the end of the year. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. 

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, I’m gonna give you a small dose of a mild sedative to help you fall asleep, alright?” She said as she made her way over to Dean’s IV bag to give him the sedative. “You ripped this out the second you woke up, didn’t you?” She asked him when she realized the needle was no longer in his arm. “You two, I swear!” She started preparing to simply inject Dean with the sedative but you stopped her.

“Is there maybe like a pill equivalent to what you’re giving him? He doesn’t really like needles,” you said. 

“There is, would you prefer that?” she asked Dean, and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll go and grab that for you then. Mrs. Smith the chair in the corner folds out into a small bed if you two don’t want to share one.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m not tired,” you said. 

She gave you a look; “Seriously? Hun, what did we just talk about?”

“I get that, but I know Dean’s not gonna sleep properly if he doesn’t feel safe.”

“This is a hospital, it’s safe,” she said. 

“Sorry,” you said with a small shrug, and again she sighed.

At that moment, John decided to walk back into the room, making your breath hitch a little before the doctor left to get the meds for Dean. 

“It’s alright, you two get some sleep; I’ll keep watch,” he said as he made his way over to the chair and sat down. 

“You sure, dad? I thought you said there was a job nearby?” Dean asked. 

John looked at you and smiled ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was something you had said to him, maybe John didn’t want you being alone with Dean while he was so weak, or maybe there never was a job and he didn’t have anything better to do than stay with his son. 

For whatever reason, John Winchester sighed and answered; “You’re more important, Dean. Your safety is more important. Now quit whining and get some sleep.”

Dean pulled the covers back, silently asking you to join him in the bed and, of course, you obliged. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting comfortable in his arms.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple. 

“I love you more,” you replied, making him let out a soft laugh. 

“You always gotta one-up me, huh?” he chuckled. 

“Uh-huh,” you giggled. His arms tightened around your frame as he tucked your head under his chin. John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for treating not only you but his own son so poorly. Every time John saw Dean be this relaxed and happy, you were always the cause. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

By the time the doctor got back about seven minutes later, you and Dean were both fast asleep; the latter letting out snores that gently moved your hair with each breath. She smiled a little at the sight and decided to duck back out of the room so as not to wake you two.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - SERIES MASTERLIST (r.c)

TAGLIST is CLOSED¡!

: ̗̀➛ one

: ̗̀➛ two

: ̗̀➛ three

: ̗̀➛ four

: ̗̀➛ five

: ̗̀➛ six

: ̗̀➛ seven

: ̗̀➛ eight

: ̗̀➛ nine

: ̗̀➛ ten

: ̗̀➛ eleven:

̗̀➛ twelve

[more to be added]

[chuluoyi]

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

[lucabyte]

"So what's the weirdest possible first (second) impression Loop could make on the party in postcanon?" "Yeah, that, probably."

+ Bonus

theyre just standing there in direct party order while this happens. normal tuesday.

[hellfire--cult]

Actor!Steve Harrington x BFF!Fem!Reader

wc: 15k

Summary: Your best friend asks for a huge favor when an extra calls out a day before filming a scene. A kiss scene. You have never been in front of a camera, unlike him, so you ask if you could practice... and also test the waters because you never kissed your best friend. The man you've been in love with for the past years.

+18, friends to lovers, idiots in love, steve is not that famous yet, lots of friendly banter, reader is a bit self conscious, kissing, smut, p in v (protected), 69, handjob, fingering, a little bit of dirty talking

a/n: this wip has been in my docs for months. I recently got back to it and finished it in just days. It was supposed to just be the smut, but as always, your girl can't help herself. Thank you @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading, god knows that if i do that myself i would just delete it all.

Please reblog. Be kind.

NOT JUST AN EXTRA

“Absolutely fucking NOT!” 

Steve knew you would react like that, it wasn’t a small favor, he also knew that. Your eyes were wide, bewildered, looking at him as if he had grown a second head or a palm tree at the top of it with a monkey dangling from a leaf. He could only sigh as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you’re gonna get paid, and we’re tight on time to do an audition for this. It’s just a few seconds, ten tops!” You gritted your teeth together as you crossed your arms over your chest. He winced, knowing you were about to increase the tone of your voice. He knows you too well, you aren’t his best friend for nothing.

“Ten seconds! Ten seconds of me being on the big screen for the first time!” You yelled and he closed his eyes and nodded.

“I know, I know–” He opened his eyes to look into yours, pleading, begging. “I– It’s just that small scene. Small, tiny, and we can do it fast.”

He could see how your eyes showed how you wanted to blow him off, but also the tenderness of caring for your best friend. Eyes he always appreciated. Eyes he adored. Eyes he loved with all of his heart. You rubbed your forehead in thought as you looked down at the floor.

“I– Are you sure you can’t get someone else?” You asked and he sighed, shaking his head. Steve’s hope started rising as you deliberated until you finally looked up at him and nodded. “Okay… Okay… Fine.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around your frame, squishing you and lifting you up to twirl you around. You squealed, a giggle escaping your lips, a shenanigan he never stopped doing everytime you did something he was happy about. Since middle school, he twirls you around whenever he is proud, delighted, or you help him with stuff.

You’re put back on your feet, shaking your head as you take a step away from him, a smile on your face, but you notice a nervous chuckle come out of his lips. You frowned because wasn’t he happy? He cleared his throat and nodded once more, looking down at you.

“Alright– I will talk to James to tell him you’ll do it–” And something was not right. He was nervous, you noticed it, so you squinted at him.

“Steve… What’s the scene about?” 

He let a choked laughter out, a fake one, rubbing the back of his head. You felt a certain anger growing inside of you as you looked at how he was reacting. You tilted your head, waiting for him to stop being stupid for a second.

“Um… Well, you see… It’s just– It’s just this small scene–” You glared at your best friend as he kept rambling. You know that when Steve is nervous he rambles… or when he is about to ask for a big, big, HUGE, favor… One you might not like.

“And what is my part in this scene?” You pressed on as he cleared his throat and looked down as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t hear, making you frown. “What did you say?”

“It’s… and well…” You still couldn’t hear him, your irritation only growing each second as you started tapping your foot on the floor. 

“Speak clearly Steve, stop mumbling, or I swear to god–”

“We have to kiss while you pretend to ride me.” 

And your mouth dropped at that as Steve saw how your confused frown turned into one of shock and your whole body froze on the spot. He gulped as he waited for your response, but you were still looking at him as if he had just told you the most shocking news there is to exist. 

He took a deep breath as he looked away for a second, still waiting. He knows he is asking too much. He knows it, he is not stupid, and he knows this was selfish. He is very much aware of how selfish he is, asking you to play this part but–

Steve just wants to kiss you at least once in his life.

While you’re still in front of him, mouth agape, you fail to notice just like you did all these years, how much the man you call your best friend loves you. You have failed to notice. How he looks at you, how he worships you, how he is willing to kill and die for you. How jealous he is of anyone that looks your way, how jealous he was of all the lovers you took, your ex.

And he knows you have failed to see his feelings, and he assumes that you have been unable to see them because you have never seen him in the same light he sees you. So, for once in his life he will take something he always wanted from you. A kiss. A simple kiss. Of course he wanted to do so many other things with you, but a kiss already means the world for Steve.

“I have to do what?” You asked as you stared at him and he took a sharp intake of breath and nodded, wincing as he talked.

“Yeah… That’s why I’m asking you because– It’s kind of an intimate scene, and I don’t really want to kiss a stranger they had to hire at the last minute…” He lied. He did many times before, but he needed the excuse, he just hopes you don’t see through the lie.

You could only stare at him for a few times as you felt your heart wanting to burst out of your chest. You would kiss your best friend. Intimately. Even if fake, you would still kiss him. After all these years of friendship, of shared moments… and after all these years of harboring this burning love and desire you feel for him.

Feelings you had buried, feelings you were managing to leave behind the closer he got to stardom. Knowing you would see him less, that he would start dating another celebrity sooner or later, that he would forget about you and that would give you the freedom to move on, despite feeling completely destroyed.

But you would have been free.

And now, he is giving you this chance. An opportunity you don’t want to miss, but it might just break you. Ruin you for anything and anyone that might come after him. A ten-second kiss, maybe twenty seconds if a second take is required. Perhaps you could fail the scene many times… get him for a whole full minute… 

It’s risky. Your heart is at stake, your feelings are going to be crushed after it, knowing you will never taste his lips again, or have him as close as you did. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t but you won’t ever have this chance again.

“Fine.” Your voice was small yet his eyes lit up the moment you agreed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, almost choking him up but he kept a poker face as best as he could. He forced a smile on his lips as he appeared relieved at your response, but that’s why Steve became an actor.

It’s a smile of happiness yet filled with sadness because Steve Harrington promised himself something if you agreed on this little favor of his—something that would rip a part of him, who he is and has been his whole life.

He would let go of you.

It was time to let this love for you die.

—-----------------------------------------------

You could feel yourself sweating as you scanned the document in your hand. The script. It was just one stupid action line, no words in between, just the description of what was happening in the scene.

Kristoff passionately kisses a random girl at a motel, and she is rubbing herself on him while they sit on the bed. He gets a call and the kiss gets interrupted. He excuses himself and leaves promptly.

“Seriously… random girl. That’s my name.” You scoffed as you threw the script on the bed while Steve sat cross-legged, at the feet of the bed. He looked at you over his glasses and he put down his own papers as he sighed.

“Well, it is just a random scene to reveal my character’s personality at the beginning of the movie.” He softly replies to you and you sigh, leaning against the headboard behind your head. You were at his loft in New York City—one that gladly remains hidden from the fans, and paparazzi.

“So your character is a playboy.” You smile at him and he huffs, shaking his head at you with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but then it is revealed–”

“Yeah, the trauma, the unloved boy, blah blah blah–” Your voice became muffled with an ‘oof’ as your face was squashed by a pillow being thrown at your face. You groaned as you pulled it off only to see Steve chuckling at you, biting his bottom lip that only made you gulp the nerves you didn’t know you were holding in your throat.

“Shut up. I mean… Mouse, this could be it. The one movie that will… skyrocket me to higher opportunities.” His smile faded slightly as your face softened… and your heart slowly broke. You knew this movie was going to be good, and you knew this was going to be the chance for his career to take off. 

Your time with him now is limited. Once this movie is out, you know the internet will go crazy over him. Fans will increase, paparazzis will be more insufferable, more interviews, more articles, more shows– And where do you fit in all that?

“I know… And it will be a hit, I just know it.” Your eyes went back to the script and you got hold of it again, pretending to scan over the words just so you wouldn’t look at him, just so you wouldn’t feel like you’re already losing him. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked his lips and tilted his head.

“How do you know?” He asked and you didn’t look up at him as you shrugged, letting your heart speak your truth. He was still your best friend, and the love you feel for him is still unconditional, and the words you say are honest.

“Because it’s you Steve. You are really good at what you do, and I know you will nail this role and all the ones that will be presented to you.” If only you would have raised your head, you would have noticed how his eyes were looking at you. 

Devoted. Whipped. Destroyed.

He gulped once more as he scanned you, and then he looked at the clock. It was getting late, but the scene was the next day and he doesn’t know if he should ask but–

“Hey, mouse–” But you interrupted him as realization struck you. Nerves ran all over your body, creating goosebumps, and then– fear.

“Steve… How do you kiss in movies?” He blinked a few times, and he shook his head a bit to center again as he grew confused at your question.

“Huh?” You felt your whole body beating, not only your heart. You never did this, not even on a stage. You never faked kissing before, you never acted it out. 

“You heard me! I mean, is it just lips? Pecks? Tongue? Do you fake the tongue? Do you not? Do you move a lot, or just a little? How do you know if you are overdoing it? Or what if you are not doing it naturally?” His eyes were wide as he listened to your outburst. You looked nervous, flushed, jittery… cute.

“Mouse, you need to calm down–”

“Calm–? Calm down!? You have kissed thousands of times on screen, this is my first time Steve!” His heart softened as he heard you, noticing your distress and how you scanned the line on the script over and over. His heart started picking up a pace as he felt the anticipation for what he was going to propose. 

“Well… the basic theory is to know what the scene is about… This one in particular, since it’s just the foreplay for sex, it can be just– lips moving rapidly, and maybe some tongue… It just comes naturally.” Your mouth fell agape as you stared at your best friend. He was being too casual about it, but of course he would be, this is his job and for you, it’s a world-shattering event.

“You say it as if it were the simplest of things Steve. I– Fuck, I shouldn’t have agreed, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward–” You put the script down, running your hands through your hair and Steve bit his bottom lip, not knowing if what he will say next would give him away, or if you are going to run off.

“We… I mean…” He stuttered, once again. Mumbling because of nervousness. You sighed and looked at him as he looked at his hands, playing with the ring that he still holds onto on his left index finger. One you bought for him when he graduated high school, while he gifted the matching one that resides on your right index finger.

“What?” You asked and he cleared his throat, looking up at you over his glasses, a nervous cough coming out of his lips as he tried to sound professional and not desperate.

“We can always practice.” Your eyes were looking at him as if he was the craziest man alive, but it was just because you were in shock. This means you would have two opportunities to kiss him. Today, and tomorrow when in front of the cameras. But– You can’t accept too quickly, even if you are excited, and giddy, and want to answer yes immediately–

“Practice? Like– Kissing?” He took a deep breath and nodded, hoping you would accept, hoping you would let him kiss you twice in his life, and he knew that he might be a little pathetic in his way of getting a kiss from you, but he didn’t want to lose you completely by confessing to you. He wanted to keep you in his life, even if you were his demise.

“Yeah. I can tell you when it is overdoing it and when it’s not.” He felt his mouth go dry as you looked away towards the sunset that was shining through his window. He inspected your profile, your beautiful profile. Your lips puckering out in thought, the expanse of your neck, your collarbone that peeked out of the V-collar of your T-Shirt. 

His heart was punching his chest open as his eyes kept moving, not being able to contain himself. Not being able to contain his thoughts from running wild at the thought of touching your lips for the first time. What it could be, what it could lead to… and it was probably just you scrunching your nose at the thought of kissing him.

“You… Don’t mind kissing me?” You still weren’t looking at him, not daring to look at his eyes, getting ready for when he tells you that it’s just work and that it means nothing. Not the way it does to you.

“Mouse, you are fucking beautiful. Of course I don’t mind.” And you didn’t expect that from him at all, and in all honesty, he didn’t even process the words coming out of his mouth just now, but they weren’t any less true. Your eyes slowly found his as your head turned to face him. The orange hues of the sunset hit his irises just right, making his brown eyes turn hazel, clear, and honey-like.

His freckles are basically sparkling at you right now, contrasting with the light, and his short stubble shining as well. He looks so beautiful. Just like that summer all those years ago, the summer you realized you were in love with him. He had only offered you some ice cream, and the sun was just like the one shining through the window right now. He was smiling, younger, and boyish.

And now, he is a man. Your best friend is a man.

“I’m happy to know you won’t vomit on my face the moment you kiss me then.” You giggled, trying to loosen the tension, to loosen your nerves a little bit as you tried to act as his best friend, the way you’ve always been. Maybe you should become an actress as well. He scoffed at you with a shake of his head and then he looked down at his hands, those big hands that grew from one day to another in your freshman year.

“And what about you? You gonna vomit on my face?” His voice was lower than before, and you licked your lips as you felt your body flushing. You suddenly felt smaller, and girlier, and you didn’t know why. 

“N-No. I’ll try to not repeat what happened when we were twelve.” He laughed at your words and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even if it was disgusting. He was spinning you around after you beat him in a hot dog-eating competition. He was happy you won, but he didn’t believe you when you told him you were feeling sick.

“That was on me. I deserved that.” His eyes found yours again and his smile faded slightly as he scanned your face. “So? Should we–”

“A peck.” You quickly responded and you wanted to curse at yourself. He tilted his head, confused and you cleared your throat, lifting yourself from the headboard to sit straighter, copying him as you crossed your legs underneath your body. “We um… should start with a peck. I mean… it’s like… uncharted territory. Kissing your best friend and all…” 

He felt his body sweat as he thought of just grazing your lips and he knew you were being cautious. If it’s too weird for you, you’re going to back out, that’s why you are asking for this. Trial and error. He always wanted to kiss you, even imagined you in the most obscene of positions, but– you haven’t with him. You were still looking at your best friend, the twelve-year-old boy who threw a slug over your head.

“Yeah. Let’s try that.” He moved the script away as he scooted closer to you. You straightened up the moment his knees hit yours, both of you still cross legged, just like you two always sat when telling eachother stuff, or gossip. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, but you had to act as if this meant nothing. As if this didn’t phase every single cell of your body.

You licked your lips in anticipation as you rested your palms on top of your knees. His hands slowly pressed on top of yours as he looked at you over his glasses. Your eyes gazed at his lips momentarily and his eyes did the same with yours. Years of oblivious pining over one another, and you two didn’t know it, didn’t notice it, because you’re two idiots. 

Belittling yourselves, thinking you two aren’t right for eachother, not good enough, or not even eachother’s types. You didn’t see what everyone else saw. How everyone bet behind your backs to see when you two would get together. When Steve would succumb and drop to one knee, or when you would simply profess your love for him. 

Yes, two oblivious idiots.

He leaned in, squeezing your hands for you to do the exact same, as if reassuring you it was alright. You followed his pace, leaning forward to meet him in the middle. You closed your eyes but he didn’t, wanting to burn the image to memory. He wanted to remember your eyelashes, the moment they fluttered shut, your breath hitting his lips, and then finally, his lips clashing with yours.

He closed his eyes then, so he could focus on the kiss. You knew your heart stopped in this second, in this small yet eternal second. Or two. Maybe three. You felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, clouds gathering around you, and you felt lightweight. A cold sweat invaded his body, or was it warm? He didn’t know, he just felt as if water washed all over him.

He tried to calm down, knowing his blush would show if he didn’t. He pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes again. You blinked a few times, zoned out, and you straightened up as you realized you were acting nervous, or, rather the opposite. You were happy, or floaty. You gulped as you cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, or as normal as one could.

“That… wasn’t as weird as I thought it might be.” And he was relieved to hear that, yet also disappointed by the fact you thought it would be weird at all. He didn’t know it was just you playing the part. You wanted to lick your lips to see if you could taste him even further, but you knew that was to come now. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” His voice was lower than before, and there was a certain shift you felt in the air. Something that unconsciously was making your pulse go faster. He said it with… a certain tone that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. He cleared his throat and tilted his head at you. “Ready to experience my amazing, expert, professional lips?”

You giggled, yes, out of nervousness, and trying to mask the fear, or the excitement. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“Oh please, we both know I kiss better.” You smirk proudly at him and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Eddie’s not the best to judge it.” You scoffed at that, squinting your eyes at him. You remember that night, Steve, you, Eddie, Robin, and Argyle drank in Robin’s room, and Eddie wanted to know who was the best kisser out of all of you. Robin didn’t indulge, but out of the three Eddie got to kiss, he said you were the best kisser. He said you were ‘tender’.

“You can’t keep saying that it’s because he likes women better than men, he is going out with Billy now, so my point still stands.” You sat there proudly, not noticing his fingers were slowly intertwining with yours over your knees. He huffed and then laughed, his head tilting to the side as his voice became low in a whisper, and he slowly leaned in.

“I’ll be the judge of that now Mouse.” It didn’t sound like your best friend talking just now. It sounded like a man talking to a girl he really wanted to kiss. Maybe your imagination is running a little too wild. You need to tell your hope to squash down just a tiny bit, or you will get hurt.

And now came the nerves. What if you overdid it now? What if you did it too roughly or too desperate? You have to calm down and let him lead. You will just follow, that’s all you have to do. You swallowed harshly, your eyes closing as his breath hit your lips, your hands tightening around his.

He could smell your perfume, and he was so nervous. He is nervous about being obvious, because, how does he stop the kiss from becoming real? How does he do it? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. But he won’t stop even if a gun is pointed at his head right now.

His lips came in contact with yours once again, softly. You held in your breath as he exhaled when you kissed him back, your head pressing forward as well. His lips then smacked against yours as they moved once. You followed his movements, slow, and enticing, and you felt your body heat up instantly as your heart threatened to kill you at any second.

You were touching the stars and Steve was on the moon. He couldn’t believe he was kissing you, even if it was ‘fake’, he couldn’t believe it. You weren’t pulling away in disgust, and that for him is already a win. His lips started moving with more determination, kissing your bottom lip as you kissed his top lip.

The smacking of lips bounced on every wall in the room, and Steve felt the temperature rise inside of him. He could feel your fingers intertwining with his over your knees and all he wanted to do was to slide his hands upwards, slide them beneath the hem of your shorts, touch your skin, grip you, and mark you with his fingernails. 

With every tilt of head you both did in between the kiss, your mind kept sending images of what you wanted to do to him. How you wanted to push him onto the bed and kiss his neck, his freckles, his biceps, the scar on his belly from the time he protected you against a cat that for some reason wanted to kill you. Then you wanted to take him into your mouth, show him how much you grew up. How much of a woman you are. How a woman like yourself could please a man like him.

But your imagination is cut off when you feel him pull away and you open your eyes to see him looking at you already. His pupils were dilated, and he hoped you wouldn’t see them because of his glasses, which were a bit foggy because your nose bumped into them everytime you turned your head to kiss him. 

The tension was palpable around you two, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your breath was a bit quick, and you had to calm down before you gave yourself away. You straightened up once again, clearing your throat. His lips were plumped because of the kiss, and you wanted to kiss them again, but you just raised your eyebrows in question.

“Well?” You asked and Steve was kicked out of his daydreaming as your voice rushed through his ears. He chuckled nervously and nodded, biting his bottom lip in order to keep tasting you.

“Can’t believe Munson was right. You do kiss well.” You were about to give a triumphant ‘Ha’ but he stopped you by raising a hand towards you to shut you up with a smirk to his lips. “But I never kissed myself, so I don’t know if you are a better kisser than me.” 

Your mouth fell open at that, but he was right. You huffed afterwards, and you looked down, seeing your fingers intertwined with his over your knees. You felt your blood rushing through your ears and wanted to keep going. Would you sound desperate if you proposed to keep practicing? Would it give you away?

You pulled your hands away from him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Maybe he overdid it himself? Maybe you did get weirded out? Maybe it wasn’t something you enjoyed at all? Your hands grabbed the script again and he tilted his head, opening his mouth to ask what you were doing but you interrupted him first.

“Um… can we practice with the actual scene?” Oh, your words just sent him to heaven. You would sit on top of his lap. You would be kissing him and rubbing yourself against him– Oh fuck, you would rub yourself against him… or maybe you didn’t? But shit, he was already half hard from the stupid pecks on the lips and the innocent kissing, how is he going to be able to handle this?

And you didn’t have a hard-on to show it off, but you weren’t any less horny than he was. You knew that if you put the least bit of friction on the seam of your shorts and onto your clit, your wetness would sip through. He might notice, but maybe you just pretend to rub yourself? Maybe you just don’t press down?

He felt his veins pulsing, specifically the ones that coursed through his wrists. His fingertips were burning with the idea of being able to hold you the way he’d always wanted to do. His eyes traveled over your body until you looked up at him when you received no answer to your question. He gathered himself and nodded with a shrug.

“Sure…” He gulped as he threw the script to the floor and moved on the bed, his shirt riding up as he crawled and sat next to you. He pressed his back against the headboard and straightened his legs to lay flat on the bed. He patted his lap with an innocent smile on his lips which only made your heart stop. “Hop on.”

You pretended to be annoyed by him, rolling your eyes, pretending you weren’t about to pass out right then and there. You uncrossed your legs and moved to throw one knee over his lap, landing next to his hip. Your eyes connected with his as you hovered over him, not wanting to press down.

“Um… should I…–” Your words were small, not really knowing what to do with your posture. His hands hesitantly grabbed your hips and guided you to sit on his thighs, avoiding his crotch. He hissed inwardly when you brushed over it for a split second, cursing at himself for how sensitive he was right now.

“There. Tomorrow they will ask us to do crotch to crotch though. The camera angle will move from the hips, towards our profiles.” You could feel your face catch on fire at the mere thought of rubbing yourself against Steve. He smiled reassuringly at you, his hands moving to your waist. “It’ll be fine. I’m a professional, you know that.”

“That does nothing to calm my nerves.” You rolled your eyes and he squeezed you slightly as you adjusted yourself on his thighs. You cursed inwardly when the seam of your shorts rubbed on you by accident, right on your clit. “What if you pop a boner for me, huh?” 

“And what if you get dripping wet for me Mouse? I can’t see it but it can happen.” His words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he felt himself combust. He felt as if he were on literal fire. Your eyes locked with his over his glasses and you didn’t know how to react to it. He was right, but– is this something normal best friends say to eachother? You broke the tension by clearing your throat.

“You are too sure of yourself.” You saw how his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second and you took a deep breath in as he pointed to the floor next to the bed.

“It will move from here–” and he moved his hand, passing over the end of the bed, over your thighs, both of your hips and then up towards your profiles, his fingers wiggling on the side of your face, “– to here.” 

“Got it… So…”

“Follow my lead, mouse.” You gulped the lump you were holding back as the butterflies in your stomach exploded, burst into flames, or they set an atomic bomb in there as he leaned close. His hands squeezed your hips as yours grabbed his shoulders. His nerves were a definite match with yours, completely out of control, berserk, but he was the professional here, he could pretend, even if it would leave a bad aftertaste.

His lips found yours again, making your breath hitch slightly, but you kissed back just like you have before. The seam on your shorts was pressing against you and now you really wondered if your wetness would sip through. What if it did and he felt it? You were far from his pelvic area, and you didn’t want to be obvious in looking down at it to check if he was as afflicted as you were.

Your lips moved together, your heart jumping in your chest while he was already bungee jumping off the empire state building. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, making him hum in the kiss and slowly pull away, making you open your eyes to look at what you had done wrong. He was smiling softly at you, his eyes darting to his right shoulder for a second.

“If you grab at me like that, your nervousness will show. Let your hands roam. Wrap your arms, or your hands can go through my hair.” He was being straightforward, but he was desperate for you to relax. He was desperate to feel as if this were real, to feel you close once and for all, to feel you against him and for your nails to rake into his hair. 

You slowly nodded, trying not to feel your entire body burning at the prospect of messing your best friend’s hair with your fingers. You took a deep breath in as you stretched your fingers over his shoulders and gave him a nod. His eyes darted to your lips again before leaning back in, kissing you once more.

You let your hands rub his shoulders, and you thought that, if this had to be as natural as possible, then you should just kiss him the way you always wanted to. If it is too much, you can just play it out that this is how you normally kiss. Giving yourself one last push of encouragement, you moved your lips against him, your hands moving to the back of his neck and then up into his hair. You have played with Steve’s hair many times before, but never in this manner. You want to pull on it, you want to rub yourself on him, but you have to keep yourself in check before you give your true intentions away too easily.

Steve on the other hand, he was being way too cautious and you were driving him fucking insane. He doesn’t know how he is capable of holding himself back but he is trying, and finding himself slowly failing at each scratch you do on his head. It was more than he bargained for, and now he is paying the consequences of it. He could smell your perfume, taste the cherry flavored chapstick you were wearing, the feel of your bare thighs under his hands as he rubbed on them, slowly, pretending this is how he is going to move for the shot of the next day.

Was it okay for him to have some hope by the way you were kissing him? Was it okay for him to just fuck this game and kiss you for real? Was it okay for him to think you felt affected as he was? For a while? All this time?

So maybe he just needs to take this chance. If you pull away, he can pretend he is used to doing his kisses a bit harsher, or something, he can do it, but he needs you. He fucking needs to feel your tongue on his. He turned his head and poked your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Your body flinched but he felt your body roll slightly against him, sending him into a mess of nerves and excitement when you opened your mouth for him. 

And when you felt his tongue going into your mouth to dance with yours, you knew you were gone. You are going to do what you always wanted to do, and for some reason, and it might be the temperature of the room or maybe his own body heat, but you think Steve might be feeling the same way you are doing right now. You could feel it in the way you have his hand running up towards your hips, the tips of his fingers going under the hem of your shirt, just a little bit.

So, you take the leap as well. 

You wiggled a little closer to his crotch, pretending to move to sit more comfortably, and that’s when you felt him. He groaned into the kiss the moment you rubbed yourself, slightly, over him. You weren’t fully seated on him, but you knew he was hard and was that a sign that this was okay? That this was something you both wanted? 

His tongue moved against yours, both of your heads turning as you kept kissing, rubbing, touching, not even noticing that minutes had passed, when the scene was only going to be ten seconds. Then, he suddenly pulled away, breathless, and you feared for the most until he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Closer.” And you only nodded, his hands helping you move to fully sit on him, your chest against his, and you couldn’t even gasp that his lips were on yours again the moment his bulge came in full contact between your legs. 

He was letting himself be guided by his lust and his love for you. He couldn’t let you go, not when you are giving him all the green lights there are. You could have questioned him just now, told him no, that it was too much, but you just nodded and followed with nothing to say. He hoped he wasn’t misunderstanding anything, but fuck, you were rubbing against him. You could fully feel his hard on and instead of shying away, or jumping up in disgust, you were rubbing yourself even more against him.

His hands travelled upwards, going underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers touching your bare waist, sending shivers down your spine, the butterflies multiplying in your belly as the heat he radiates from his fingertips travels into your body. You could smell his cologne, the distinctive scent he’s been carrying for years now, one you detect the minute he crosses a door and into a room. 

Your breaths are heavy against eachother as you keep kissing, desperately, eating one another like you’ve always wanted to do to one another. His glasses hit you every once in a while at each turn of head, and the more you sway your hips against him, the more you forget the fact that this was supposed to be practice. He wasn’t supposed to be into it the way he is, and maybe… 

You slowly pull away from him, noses still touching, lips still brushing, breaths mingling with one another’s and you manage a small whisper towards him.

“Are we still practicing, Steve?” And that made him open his eyes to find yours. Their eyes, clouded with lust, desire, love, tenderness, and pent-up feelings, met. Feelings that can be talked and discussed later on. He pulled his head back and with a swift movement, you were now facing the ceiling as he got on top of you, settling between your legs. He ripped the glasses off his face and threw them god knows where as he planted his hands on each side of your body and leaned down, his eyes dark and determined, something you never thought would be directed your way.

“Like hell we are.” And you burst in happiness as his lips crashed with yours again. He could be just thinking of where to stick his dick in right now, but you’ll take it. This is being done rationally, sober, with complete consciousness. Your tongues met again, your hips clashed, and he began rutting into you, his bulge hitting your clit perfectly now at every thrust.

You let yourself moan into his mouth as your hands ran through his hair, your legs spreading even more for him to rut harder and he touched heaven the moment he heard your sweet voice react to him like that. You were accepting him, encouraging him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever god has heard him. He groaned into your mouth as a particular thrust sent a wave of heat all over his body, feeling himself twitch in his pants, and he knew his boxers were already stained with precum. 

He wasn’t going to last, and if he keeps rutting himself into you, he is going to blow his load in three minutes or less. He has been waiting for this moment for far too long, just as much as you have. Your belly was already burning with his dry humping, and it was becoming harder to hold your noises back.

He moved to rest on his elbows so he could move his right hand downwards, underneath the hem of your shirt. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt his fingertips grace your belly, and then went upwards, touching the soft cotton of your plain bra. You weren’t expecting anything today, and now you were wondering if he would think you are too common for him. Not extravagant enough. Yet all doubts were thrown out the window when he pulled away, his lips pressing to the side of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, and his voice mumbled into the skin of your neck before he started kissing it.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck– Tell me you want this Mouse, that you wanted this as much as I have…” Your breathing was jagged as he started sucking, licking, kissing your neck. You gasped when he hit your pulse point and pressed his tongue on it, making you press your hips upwards and into him. He just confessed to you he wanted you. He has wanted you for a while from what you could decipher, but questions could come later. 

“Yes– God, Stevie, yes–” No turning back now. The friendship was ruined, passed onto a better life. He hummed in delight into your skin, finally daring to move his hand to cup your breast. He couldn’t believe how dumb and blind he was. You wanted him. How did he not see it? Maybe he wasn’t the only actor between the two of you.

Your back arched against him as you felt him grope your breast, rub on it with his big hands. Hands you couldn’t stop staring at everytime he took notes down on his scripts or on his agenda. You had mentioned to him before his hands were ridiculously large, which only made him joke to you about how he never got any complaints about them. You have touched yourself to thoughts of those hands on you and now you get to live it. 

He sucked onto your skin, ready to mark you up finally, make you his. You were not pushing him away from it, or denying him from doing so, so that was a great sign for him. Your mouth was open as one hand was still tangled in his hair, the other dragging your nails on his back. You were letting out small sounds, little huffs, but then you felt his fingers go underneath the elastic of your bra, finally cupping your breast completely bare. He moaned into your skin when he felt your nipple perk up against his palm, and he immediately got it in between his fingers and pinched.

You let out your first loud moan of the night and that made him thrust into you quite desperately. He was going to cum in his pants. He can’t have that. He pulled away from your neck, sitting up and ripping his hand away from you, making you pout slightly. He smirked at how fucked you looked already, and all thanks to him. He crossed his arms in front of him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one movement, his hair now more disheveled than what your fingers had done to it. 

You were flushed all over as you looked at him, his arms, his chest, his abdomen… his fucking chest hair. That chest hair that sprouted out of nowhere from one summer to the other and it completely made your hormones go a little crazy. 

“Am I going to be the only one getting undressed here?” He asked as a joke, yet not entirely. It was one last chance for you to step out. For you to go back to what you two were minutes before. You licked your lips as you sat up, taking your shirt off in front of him and throwing it away just like he did. He was still kneeling up in between your legs, staring down at you as if you had hung the stars for him. And that you did.

“Don’t be a crybaby.” Your voice was teasing and small, showing how nervous you were. You couldn’t help it. Steve had other experiences now, and you wondered if you could really compare at all. He gulped as his eyes ran over your chest, and he has seen you in your bra before. But those times cannot compare to what this means right now, because that bra will be taken off in, what he hopes, a few seconds.

He ran a hand through his hair as your hands ran over his chest, inspecting him, experiencing him. He moved his free hand to hold your cheek and make you look up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and he couldn’t stop himself that he was already leaning to take your lips with his as his other hand went to your back and touched the clasp of your bra, which made you jump slightly. He immediately pulled away, looking at you, his nose still bumping into yours.

“You okay?” How do you explain that you jumped because of your excitement and happiness? Of how sensitive you were because all your senses were heightened up because of him. How do you not sound in love? 

“Yeah, just got surprised, that’s all…” You gave him a peck of reassurance and he hummed into your lips, his hand moving to the clasp of your bra once again and in one swift movement of fingers, it snapped open. A pang of jealousy and anger hit you for just a few seconds until he pulled away from you, his hands grabbing both straps of your bra, his eyes glued to your breasts as he sat back, taking your bra with him.

And, well, Steve is staring. His breathing ragged as you saw how he dropped the bra on the bed, his eyes going left and right, not knowing in which one to focus on. He never saw your bare breasts before and now that he does–

“They’re so fucking perfect Mouse… You’re so perfect for me, jesus christ–” You couldn’t even process his words that he was making you lay back on the bed again, his body over yours and his mouth came in contact with your collarbone as his left hand held the back of your neck and the other your waist.

You sighed in pleasure when his kisses started moving downwards towards your chest, then moving to the right. The left hand moved from the back of your neck to rest on your right breast, nipple immediately fitting between his fingers. You were about to arch your back at the feeling, only for another sensation to override it. His lips on your left nipple. 

“Steve–” You gasped as your back arched towards him, your hands flying to his head, running your fingers through his hair to pull him even more into you. He loved his name on your mouth like this… And he wanted to hear you scream it. Cry it. Breaking through your vocal cords as he made you come undone.

His lips moved on your right nipple, sucking on it as he pinched the left one. He looked upwards to see you, his hair blocking his view a bit, but he saw how your head was thrown back on the pillow, mouth open as little breaths left it. He hummed into your breast and then he got the nipple between his teeth, and softly pulled on it, inflicting a bit on pain on you to taste the waters and–

This moan was your loudest yet.

“Oh, you didn’t lie when you said you might be a masochist.” And he remembers that conversation. A drunken night where he almost kissed you. You two talked about your sex lives but never in detail, that is, until you asked him if you were a masochist because you liked being spanked and choked, to which his response was, ‘yes’. Since that night, he had very graphic dreams that had you as their protagonist. The dreams were sweet and domestic before, and then, after that… they were pure filth.

“You remember that?” You ask breathlessly, smiling a bit as you feel him nod as he sucks on your right nipple. “I was embarrassed after saying that… my drunk brain thought it would catch your attention and blurted it out…”

“It did more than catch my fucking attention.” And with that confession, he rubbed his hips against you once more, proving his point as you felt his hard bulge still intact, if not, harder than before. You moaned as he tugged on your nipple one last time before changing places, giving the same attention to the left one as his hand kept grabbing your breast there.

“Oh, does it mean you’ve been having some dirty thoughts about me, Stevie?”

“Thoughts?” He chuckled against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled away to look at you after giving a bite to the round of your breast. “Try dreams. Lots of them.”

The confessions kept pouring out, realizing this was more than just attraction. Both of you now know this goes beyond physical. Beyond wanting to try it out with your best friend. Beyond trying a new experience.

“What did I do in those dreams?” And you saw his face flush, leaving him speechless finally as you looked up at him. You bit your bottom lip as you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the side, rolling on top of him as soon as his back hit the bed. Your legs now straddled him, hips pressing against him, provoking a groan out of his lips. 

“You were like this in one of those, certainly.” Your ears couldn’t be happier to hear that. You couldn’t contain the smile that spread on your lips as you imagined Steve waking up sweaty to a fantasy he dreamt where you were the main lead. 

“Hmm…” And your eyes went down, looking at his belt. You gave yourself a mental pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you decided you wanted to engrave yourself into his memory. “What about this?”

His eyebrows met in the middle as you moved from his pelvic area to rest on his thighs. Only then his eyes widened, when your fingers unbuckled his belt, then undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He twitched only by the grace of your fingers over the expanse of his bulge. Oh, fuck.

You were biting your bottom lip with need as your fingers hooked in the hem of his pants and boxers. You were going to do it. You were going to cross the line. A line you were terrified of since the moment you discovered you felt physically attracted to him. One thing is to be only feeling something emotional over someone, but once you start having physical attraction to them, you know a line is suddenly drawn between the two of you.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you started pulling his clothes down. He raises his hips up in order to help you, the nerves flying all over his body, a bit of self consciousness running through his veins as he looks at the ceiling, wondering if you would think it’s weird, or too much, or too little. He never received any complaints but, who knows? This was you. He had to be perfect for you. 

But he couldn’t be more wrong. The moment he came out from his boxers, his shaft slapping on his belly as it bounced out, and your mouth fell open. You– You knew Steve could be big. You’ve ogled him, multiple times. In his gym shorts, in his swimming trunks, in his underwear whenever he was getting ready in front of you, and you caught sight of it having a little hard on just very few times. Your imagination gave it no justice.

“What the hell Steve…”

“What– What’s wrong?” His eyes found your face which was locked on his cock, and worry filled his brain as he thought you were looking at him in disgust or something. But, actually, your mouth was salivating. You were put in automatic pilot as you shuffled downwards, your thighs now straddling his shins. 

Your hands rubbed on his inner thighs, making him choke on his breath, and you saw how his shaft twitched at your touch. You clenched around nothing as you anticipated how he would sound with your lips wrapped around him. Fantasies of him moaning your name as you showed him just how much you wanted him, now, about to become a reality. 

Your upper body bent down, his eyes widening when he saw you let a blob of spit fall from your lips and onto the tip of his cock. He saw how it dribbled down his shaft and before he could stop you, your hand wrapped around him. He sighed instantly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he gripped the sheets beneath him. Fuck– Fuck, how can he stop you now? 

“You’re so big…” Your voice was sultry, low, filled with pure lust and he noticed it. You were talking to his dick, not him. All his worry about how it looked was thrown out the window, but when you started moving your hand up and down on him, slowly, another worry filled him, and that was that he was going to cum in just a few strokes if he didn't concentrate.

“Baby–” He called out your name, but then he felt your thumb press onto the tip and then pass it on his frenulum which sent a jolt of electricity all over his body. “– Oh god.”

You were relishing in his sounds. You looked up to see his head thrown back, the veins and freckles on his neck being the stars of the show for you. He looked so good right now and you were flushing all over just by giving him pleasure. You looked back down, and your body went downwards just a little bit more, and you lolled your tongue out. A growl was torn out of him as you licked his tip, slotting it right into his slit before kissing it.

You were sucking him off. You were going to suck him off and oh my god, he is going to die. Or he is already dead and gone to heaven. He sighed in delight as he felt your mouth engulf the head of his cock. Your pretty cherry-flavored lips that will now have his taste, smearing your spit all over him. You hummed in delight as you went further and he had to grip onto the sheets as he closed his eyes, taking his mind far away so he wouldn’t blow his load right now.

You could hear his grunts, how he was holding himself back as your left hand was on his hip for leverage while the right one helped you engulf the places your mouth couldn’t reach. You let your mouth salivate around him as you started bobbing your head up and down, slowly, slightly twirling your head from side to side, while your right hand jerked him up everytime your mouth went up.

“Oh– Fuck–” He drapped an arm over his eyes as his back arched a little bit off the bed at a specific tongue press along the shaft. You want more of that, you want more of Steve breaking underneath you, so you quicken your movements, just a little bit. His breathing turned heavy and you looked up to see his chest heaving, and you knew he was holding himself back from making noises.

You pulled away with a soft pop, making him take his arm away from his eyes and raise his head to be able to look at you as you kept slowly jerking him off. His cock was right next to your lips as you stared at him.

“Don’t hold your voice back Stevie…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you used his nickname in a situation like this. Goddamn, you had him wrapped around your finger. He shook his head as he sighed, his belly flipping at how your thumb slotted itself in the slit of the head of his shaft.

“It’s not that– It’s– I’m not going to last if you keep sucking me off, and to be honest? I want to fuck you stupid, Mouse.” Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly flushed all over at his dirty words, at the dirty talk you never thought would be directed your way. It made him smirk, and an idea popped up in his head. “– But… I do want to taste you as well.” 

You tilted your head as he slowly moved his hands to grab your hand and one touched your cheek. He nodded upwards for you to pull away from him.

“What–”

“Turn around. Shorts and panties off.” You felt your heart in your throat as you gulped, his eyes dark, never leaving your figure as you climbed off the bed in order for you to do as he commanded. As you did that, he took the opportunity to take the rest of his pants and boxers off, throwing them to the side. You bit your lip as you pulled the button in your shorts open and then pulled the zipper down. 

You would be completely naked to him right now. You two would finally cross the line, completely. He would see you in all your glory just as how you just sucked his. You had to stop overthinking this. You had to. He wants you. You want him. And you could see how he was biting his bottom lip, how he was expecting this, how desperate he was to see you naked for the very first time.

So, defeating your nerves, you slowly pushed your shorts and panties down, not wanting to show the bland cotton panties to him, but you made a show of sticking your ass out a bit as you swayed your hips to take off your clothes. His head rolled back as he let out a groan, and you saw how his dick twitched at the sight of you and you wanted to smile at the small win. 

You were naked. He was naked. You were both naked. You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment with both your hands. It was still Steve. Steve who came to your house to play in the tree house in your garden. Steve who climbed into your room whenever his mom and dad fought and he wanted to get away. Steve who helped you get your first part time job with him at Scoops where you two met Robin. 

And it was the man you have loved for the past years. 

“Hey– We don’t have to–” He was looking at you worriedly, feeling as if you had realized what was about to happen but you cut him off by jumping towards him, getting on top of him and kissing him on the lips to steal his breath away.

“I’m just nervous…” You confessed and he smiled at you, caressing your cheek as he nodded, completely agreeing with you.

“Me too… and if it’s too much–” And you shook your head at him, biting your bottom lip as you kneeled up, towering all over him. His heart picked up a pace once again as he saw how you turned around, your ass in full view for him and he couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. “God… I want a picture…” 

“Steve!” You giggled as you looked down at his length, still hard and waiting, despite the sudden interruption the two of you just had. You took a sharp breath in so you could gather up the courage and you started moving backwards, Steve’s abdomen starting to show the more you moved.

“Can you blame me?” He was already becoming pussy drunk the more your center came closer to him. His hands rubbed the back of your thighs, and then he smacked your right cheek with his hand, making you jolt and gasp, your pussy clenching around nothing. He smirked at the reaction, his hands grabbing onto your hips as you looked down at his red tip, begging for attention, twitching for it.

“S-Stevie…” He groaned, looking up at your glistening folds. Something he has dreamed of doing so many times. He couldn’t wait for you, to taste you, to finally make you scream. He needed to hear you. He needed to let you know just how good he can worship you, and how good he can make you feel. 

“Lower on me, baby, I can take it. I can take whatever you give me.” His words came from his heart because he didn’t even process them. Not that they weren’t any less true. You felt his hands gripping your hips, pressing on you so you would finally move down towards him. You took a deep breath in, and you moved your hips downwards, your hands gripping his thighs in anticipation. 

Steve could smell you and it was delightful. He is going to become addicted to you. He already was, but this would seal the entire deal. He couldn’t wait anymore, and his head left the pillow, raising up so he could dart his tongue out and finally lick in between your folds, taking a gush of your slick with him. You shivered on top of him, letting out a sigh out of your pretty lips and his eyes closed as he tasted you.

You were sweet, everything he needed and desired in one simple lick. You were the most delicious and addicting thing he has ever tasted. More than nicotine, alcohol, candy itself. You were perfect. You gasped, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs as you felt him lick at you, slurping your slickness away.

“So delicious… please…” He was begging for you to lower down, and after having a bit of what he could offer, your body lowered, his head laying back down on the pillow as your cunt slotted over his mouth. He smirked right before he darted his tongue out to rub it against your clit and then your folds. Your back was arched as you leaned down, moaning as you felt him all over, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. 

He groaned into your folds as your hand wrapped around him again, pumping him for a few seconds before he felt your hot mouth all over the head. You could feel the vibrations of his noises when you started taking him in your mouth, and then moving up and back down. It was making you feel so good. He was making you feel so fucking good. Your Stevie.

You moaned into his cock when he slapped your thigh, the sound echoing throughout the room and he sighed as he felt your moan vibrate all over. He kept licking you away, slurping on your clit thanks to how you were arching your back against him. You were giving him great access to that sensitive button of yours and he was having the time of his life tugging at it, making you cry out a few times as he felt your body tremble on top of him.

He jerked his hips upwards when you went a little further with your mouth, taking him even more. He was surprised and he stopped lapping at your center for just a second, trying to gather up his thoughts once again. You gagged, pulling up from him slightly, but continuing to suck him off. He had to distract you. He had to make you stop because if you didn’t he was going to finish. It’s been an ongoing battle with himself all night, and he was not going to give up now.

He decided to hold your ass cheeks, spreading them and then he entered his tongue inside of you. You pulled away from him with a gasp, the side of your face falling to a rest on his left thigh as you kept pumping him right in front of you, your chest against his abdomen. 

“S–Steve–!” You couldn’t believe how thick his tongue was. Everything was overwhelming you, and you couldn’t keep your mouth on him because you just needed to moan. Your hand was still jerking him off and even if he was delighting himself with his tongue inside of you, he had to keep distracting you. 

He moved one of his hands, elbow bent between your legs and bicep against his chest in order to aim properly into your core. He pulled his mouth away from you, letting you catch your breath, only for then to be completely washed over by a gasp when you felt two of his fingers sliding over your folds, gathering up your slick in order to lube them up. Those fingers you always fantasized with. Fingers you pretended you were fucking instead of your own. 

“Pretty. My pretty girl.” His praises were coming out of his mouth nonstop. Your mouth fell open and your hand stopped moving on his cock as you felt him invade your cunt with two of his fingers. His index and middle finger, in the position of a finger gun. This will give him better access to that special spot of yours, considering the position you two were in, but fuck, his dick twitched in your frozen hand when he felt just how warm you were inside. He felt it with his tongue, but with his fingers, it felt like something else entirely.

He wanted to give you the utmost pleasure, and he knew he was succeeding by how still you stayed on top of him, cunt a few inches away from his face, seeing his fingers start to slowly pump in and out of you. He could hear the squelching, oh fuck. Maybe he is just going to cum like this. He might cum just by fingering you and listening to your sweet little moans and sighs.

You were drooling on his thigh, and you didn’t have the power to care. You were feeling good as he changed the pace and started literally fucking his fingers into you, making you choke on your own moans. You couldn’t even move your hand on him, too distracted as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you, and when you tried to move your hand, you felt him press his ring finger against your clit, rubbing it back and forth as he finger fucked you.

“Oh Stevie–” You couldn’t help the moans you were letting out, pornographic, and it was everything Steve ever wanted. For you to moan his name this way. For you to come undone under his touch. 

“You feel good, baby?” You nod against his thigh, as your eyes remain closed, your hips starting to slowly sway against his thrusts. “Oh fuck, yeah, move against me, that’s it–” 

He couldn’t help talking to you. He wasn’t very talkative when having sex, but you? You were bringing a new whole side of him. He wanted to know if you were feeling good, wanted to make you do things to feel even better, and most of all, praise you. Worship you. 

You raised yourself from his thigh, holding yourself up against it with your left hand, shaking on top of him as you felt him move his wrist slightly, hitting your G-spot even if slightly, but enough to make you cry loudly. Your right hand tightened around him, making him groan but he didn’t feel the intense burning in his belly any longer. It was there, but not as threatening. 

He smirked as he flutter around his fingers, knowing you were coming close as you kept fucking yourself on his fingers. Your belly was burning, tightening, your walls starting to clench as you decided to finally let go of his dick, slamming your hand on his right thigh, and now you were just riding his fingers. 

You looked so fucking perfect right now, and he couldn’t wait as he felt you clench even tighter around his fingers, feeling your clit throb underneath the length of his ring finger.

“I’m– Shit, Steve, please, I’m gonna cum– You’re gonna make me cum–” Your head dropped as you felt your belly starting to turn into itself and he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, only for them to start rubbing against your clit, making you clench around nothing at all.

“Cum on my tongue. Come on. I want it–” And you felt his tongue immediately dive into your folds, swirling inside of you as his fingers kept working magic against your sensitive clit. Your breaths were coming out in short little gasps as you felt tears building up your water lines in anticipation and lust. You felt yourself wanting to separate from him but he held you close with his other hand, not letting you move an inch away from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck– Steve!” Your nails dug into his thighs as you finally felt yourself tighten all around his tongue, your hips swaying desperately against him, not even considering you might suffocate him, but he wasn’t. He was actually in heaven as he kept drinking you, rubbing your clit in order to help you ride your orgasm out. Your cries were of his name, moans he never thought would be as high pitched as that, and you just felt hot all over.

He has to make sure he didn’t cum just now.

You twitched on top of him as you felt yourself start to untense, unclench, and your nails let go of his thighs. You felt him still swirling his tongue and sucking on your folds, eliciting a small wince as you pulled your hips up. You gulped as you breathed heavily, scooching away from his face, his hands leaving you completely. Your knees were wobbly against the mattress as you pulled your leg over his legs in order to turn around and face him.

He was breathing heavily, your slick all over his mouth and jaw, even down his neck, mixed with his saliva. You covered your mouth as you looked at the view before you. He looked utterly fucked just by eating you out. A sense of pride surged inside of you but you still bit your lip as you crawled close to him, looking down at his face.

“Steve…?” 

“Holy shit…” He was all dopey smiling up at you. “I’ve wanted to do that since… forever.” 

“Oh?” You smiled as your arms felt like complete gelatin as you kept your body up. You looked down to look at his cock, seeing how hard it still was, biting your bottom lip to look at him. “Um… you… want me to help you?”

He raised his eyebrows at you and lifted his head to look down and thankfully, gladly, he didn’t cum. He smirked, wiping his mouth away with a bit of the bedsheet as he turned to look at you once again.

“No.” Your eyes shot up in surprise and you were about to talk as he rolled on top of you, his hands on either side of your face, his pupils completely dilated as he stared down at you. “I want to fuck you, if that’s fine by you.”

You couldn’t nod quicker even if you wished. Your heart was gone already, you didn’t even know if you still had a beat or if it exploded and somehow blood was still pumping, but, sex. You were going to finally have sex with Steve. He licked his lips as he reached over for his night stand and opened his drawer to take out a condom foil. He inspected it, his eyes squinting slightly, making you frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date.” Your eyes shot up in surprise at his words. Why would he need to check that?

“I… Huh?” He chuckles as he rips the foil open with his teeth, making you stupidly clench like a bitch in heat.

“I don’t exactly bring many women. This is my house and… it’s where most of you are… I didn’t want to taint it. I didn’t want anyone else but you in here for this… kind of thing.” He chuckled nervously as he rolled the condom on himself, and you were just staring at him. He has been waiting for you, all this time. He wanted you all this time. He saved this place for you, even if you two were never doing this. Even if you two were just friends like an hour ago. 

“Steve…” He looked at you and connected his eyes with yours, a feeling of warmth invading the both of you, and you two knew this was right. This was meant to happen at one point or the other, you just were too blind or stupid to realize this. Your arms wrapped around his arms as he leaned down to take your lips in his. You could taste yourself in his mouth, and you couldn’t believe that it actually was turning you on. 

Your legs spread even more for him to slot easily between them, his hard cock rubbing against you, making the both of you groan into the kiss. Your tongue danced with his as you two danced around that line that is now a spider’s thread of silk. He moaned into the kiss as he kept kissing you, but he needed to be honest with you, in order to not disappoint, so he pulled away, his breaths heavy against your lips.

“I gotta tell you, I’m not gonna last… I waited too long for this and I’ve been holding back from cumming the past thirty minutes and–” You giggled and pecked his lips with reassurance as you nodded at him.

“Don’t worry… We can go again later…” That gave him all the encouragement he needed, which he really didn’t anymore than what he already had, to grab his shaft in order to guide it to your entrance. He gave you one last look and you could feel the joy. The same joy that resides in your chest, a joy that makes you want to almost cry, but it got interrupted as his hips started pushing in. Your mouth fell open into an ‘o’ shape as you felt him stretch you out, inch by inch, and– fuck, his fingers did their best but there’s no comparison at all.

He groaned loudly as you engulfed him in your heat, slowly, and all he wanted was to slam into you, go crazy with it, but he had to be patient. He wanted it perfect. Everything has been going perfect till now, and it shouldn’t stop. It should never stop for you. Nor with you.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good for me, Mousy.” His head fell to the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent, your perfume, and he placed a kiss onto your skin. And his hips were not stopping, already going halfway in but you already felt full. You couldn’t believe you could keep taking him but maybe you were just made for him.

“B-Big– It’s so fucking big, Steve, what the fuck…” You couldn’t help the curse that came out of your mouth, a breathy chuckle vibrating in your neck thanks to him.

“I’m sorry– Do I–”

“No, don’t stop, I’ll kill you…” And you would, and he nodded. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tensed for a second before he dove his hips all the way in, making you gasp as his pelvis finally slammed against yours. He bottomed out and you felt him in your throat. Your nails were digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to him. It wasn’t painful at all, it just felt like too much, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, trying to get used to it. He pulled away from your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up on your jaw, to then move to your left cheek. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was a whisper, concerned and you wanted to cry by how attentive he was over his own pleasure. You smiled even if he wasn’t seeing it and you nodded. “Tell me when I can start moving, alright?”

And you wanted to be brave and say right now, but you actually waited for a minute, and in that minute you knew this wasn’t a one time thing. A ‘satisfy your curiosity’ kind of thing. Because Steve was peppering your whole face and neck in kisses, soft little pet names leaving his mouth for you.

‘My baby. My sweetheart. Darling. My sweet. Honey. My love.’

And the last one was the one that caught you by surprise. It seems he noticed what he had done because the moment you opened your mouth, he started to move. A moan left your lips as he started thrusting slowly in and out of you, halfway out, and then in. It was slow tempo, yet deep, but not rough.

“Stevie–” You were letting out pretty sighs as you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling him rub against your walls with each thrust. He cradled your head in his arms, looking down at your face, his hair falling over his eyes as the sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Perfect. Can I go faster?” It was a plea, a beg, the lust for you inside of him igniting once again, and with your nod, his hips started rolling quicker, a little further than before, making you moan louder, your head tilting back on the pillow, your neck being exposed to him, to which he immediately attacked with his lips.

He started listening to the slamming of his hips against yours as he sucked on the skin of your pulse point, listening to your moans and his dick was twitching nonstop. He couldn’t believe he was having you like this, that you were letting him have you like this at all. His sweet mouse. His sweet, perfect girl.

It was paradise. He was in paradise. You were in heaven. You two felt like everything made sense for the first time in your lives. Why didn’t you do this before? Why were the two of you so scared? Those are questions you two can ask eachother later because right now all you want is to finally let Steve rail into you the way he’s always wanted to.

And to do that, he had to pull away and kneel up, his arms leaving your head so his hands could grab the back of your knees. He looked down at you for just one second as his chest heaved up and down. Your eyes were filled with tears, your gaze finding his and as you opened your mouth to call for him, his hips started snapping into yours, the bedframe hitting the wall at each thrust of his.

You moaned loudly as your right hand shot upwards, holding onto the headboard, while your left one was in a tight fist in the pillow below your head. He was moaning your name as he saw your entire body bounce against his thrusts, and he could hear how wet you were as well. He growled as he felt his belly burn instantly at it, and he wanted to last longer, to have you in more positions, to make this night unforgettable, but he had a feeling that you would not care. It would be memorable no matter what he did or happened.

“Steve, you feel so good–” Your words were like sirens singing in his ear. You were making this very difficult on him as he started rolling his hips in long and deep thrusts, making you gasp and breathe out everytime the tip of his cock hit the deepest part of you, brushing against your g-spot perfectly. Your eyes were wide, looking at the ceiling thanks to how intense he was being and how much you were loving it. 

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it, baby, I want to hear it–” He didn’t know where all this dirty talking really came from. He was still surprised by this. 

“I love it– I love it so much– I love you– I love you!” His eyebrows met in the middle as his mouth fell open, and he was done for. He fell forward as his heart exploded inside of his chest, and he knew you were cockdrunk and it came out of your mouth unwillingly, but the feeling was there and he knew it. 

You couldn’t believe you said it. You couldn’t believe what you just did but you just let yourself go and this happened. He fell forward, his hands caging your head between them as his hair tickled your forehead, his lips brushing over yours as he kept panting into your mouth, his hips unrelenting in their pace.

“I love you… Fuck, I love you too Mouse, so fucking much, you have no idea–” He kissed you, and you felt your stomach flip, your heart set aflame. “For so long, even before the auditions–” Another kiss and his hips became desperate, not letting you reply to him at all as your breaths were being knocked out of you, thrust after thrust. “-- You’re mine, you’ve always been mine.” 

Your arms wrapped around him again, your walls clenching around his length making him moan your name as he got his hand in between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours as his fingers came in contact with your puffed up clit. Your eyes widened when you felt overwhelmed with sensations, your belly coiling at feeling him brush your g-spot at the same time he rubbed your clit.

“Please, please– Stevie, you are so good–” Your praises fell on his lips and he had to hold on for a bit longer, just a bit longer. He could feel you fluttering all around him so he needed to make you cum around him. He needed to feel you. He was begrudgingly going to admit defeat on not making you cum again, but now, now it was a need. Now it’s a must. After your confession, it’s the least he can give you for having the courage he didn’t have.

“C’mon, one more… One more and I’ll cum…” You knew the climax was going to hit you sooner or later, but the fact Steve was feeling as good as you were feeling was just, making you go a little feral.

“Okay– Okay, pleasepleaseplease–” He didn’t know you were this vocal in bed, but he hoped it was because of him, and he was. You two were vocal and just with eachother. A detail you will learn later on. You felt him rub your clit a little faster than before and you threw your head back on the pillow as you dug your nails into his hair. He moaned as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as his fingers played with your soaked button.

He felt you flutter around him and fuck, he was going to cum. He can’t hold it in anymore but he can’t change the pace of anything. He can’t. He needs to feel you around him before he gets to cum. He wants to do it at the same time you do. He wants this with you. This memory. Your eyes widen when you feel your belly burning and your back arched towards him, your walls clenching around his cock.

“I feel you. I can feel you baby, come on… Come on–” And without further encouragement, you clenched tightly around him like a vice, which knocked the breath out of him, his hips stuttering as you came all around him, his name coming out of your lips in a cry of pleasure. He looked at your contorted face for a few seconds before his hips finally stopped and twitched when he came into the condom. You were still gripping him tightly, milking every single spurt of cum he had to give. He gave a few thrusts for good measure to help you ride your orgasm out, until his fingers stopped rubbing your clit.

His head fell, forehead hitting your chest as he breathed heavily, wincing as you slowly started to unclench around him, coming down from your high. He took his hand away from your sensitive nub, and he felt your heartbeat against his head. It was so quick. He is scared your heart will burst at any second.

You on the other hand, you were so exhilarated. You could die right now and you would go happily. Death could take you and you would tell it sure why not. A smile displayed on your face as your tight grip on his head softened, slowly starting to rub circles on his scalp with your fingers, which he responded with a satisfied hum. You were breathing heavily, and he was holding most of his weight up with his hands and knees, but you still felt him all over you.

He gulped as he raised his head from your chest, smiling at you as you connected your eyes with his. He kissed your chest once, then moved up and kissed your collarbone, then your neck, which was all marked up by him, then your jaw, and finally he pecked your lips.

“Hi Mouse.” You give him a content huff, panting into each other's lips.

“Hi, Stevie…” He smiled at you, clearing his throat as he felt his cock soften slowly, moving his hips to pull out from you, eliciting a groan out of the two of you. “Fuck…”

“You can say that again…” Your hands were still in his hair and he chuckled, pecking your lips softly. His heart couldn’t pump more blood than it was right now even if it could, but he had to ask. “Did you mean that?” “What?” He gulped and continued with his question.

“That you love me…” You blinked a few times and you bit your bottom lip as the nerves returned like a bulldozer.

“I… Yeah… for a long time… Did you mean it?” Steve smiled widely, his lips coming in contact to every inch of your face, making you giggle because it tickled in some places, and your heart never felt more warm than it was now. 

“Absolutely… fuck, baby, I– How could I not want you? You’ve… been with me even when I was a loser.” You rolled your eyes at him and giggled, shaking your head.

“You were prom king!”

“And a loser! I was an ass! And had no dreams! Well, except one.” Your eyebrow raised in question, wondering what he meant.

“What was that?”

“You. You were.” You felt your eyes fill with tears as the emotions overwhelmed you, realizing the two of you could have had this for so long, and neither of you acted on it. Made something happen, and it only prompted the both of you to waste time.

“You were mine… You are mine, Stevie.” A fond smile spreads on his lips as he leans down and kisses you softly, warmly, with the intent of a forever. And he keeps kissing you. He keeps giving you sweet words, until it's time for the two of you to clean up. The moment he gets up from the bed and you wobble to take a look at him, you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.

“What!? What is it!?” His eyes were worried as he looked at you, and you pointed at his body. 

“I– Oh, did I fuck it up!?” 

“Huh?” He tilted his head at your question, only for him to look down at himself and for his eyes to widen. “Oh… fuck.”

Your fingernails had scratched him all over. His shoulders, his neck, his back, his arms, his fucking thighs. He’ll get killed, or his scene will be postponed till these go away, though, he doesn’t know if he just wouldn’t forbid you from making more. 

But the next day, when the director saw the scratches on his body and the hickies on your neck, he thought it was natural looking. That the makeup artist did an amazing job on the two of you, and the director didn’t even know you two didn’t even go to the person in charge of that. You rolled out of bed because you were running late and you rushed to the studio.

You were happy to be here with him. That it took a practice kissing lesson to be able to be with him. You were nervous, but at least not in the way you were yesterday afternoon. Not in the way of kissing him and him thinking you were disgusting, or deciding it was a bad idea to ask you for this. You were nervous because of his career, because of how this could be seen by his fans, but– You cannot give him up now. Not after all these years of missing out. 

He wasn’t going to give up on this either. The moment the movie comes out, the moment this debuts, he will go on the carpet of his premiere with you by his side. He will tell everyone that the woman he kisses for ten seconds at the beginning of the movie is his best friend and the love of his life. He will show you off. He wants everyone to know who was there with him from the very beginning and through every instance of his life, even since he was a kid.

“ACTION!”

And the scene was done in one take, the director praising you both with a–

‘Good job you two! It felt natural!’

end

a/n: i want to be fingerbanged by steve harrington