#sorry this took a turn at the end bc i too am in my feelings

[hdra77]

THE. THE. DO INFORM ABOUT THE AU I BEGG WHENRKFKRJJHEJEJ I LOVE UR WORK AND IT LOOKS SO COOL PLEASE DO INFORM MY FRIEND!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! AND GLADLY!! >:D the AU isn't fully done yet and there may be some stuff that still needed to be worked on! but here's the current summary of the metamorphosis AU : Yi had already contracted the sickness during the council meeting when he proposed the Eternal Cauldron Project although he decided to dismiss his own symptoms altogether when Eigong convinces him to attend the meeting and share to the other members about his plan

everything else are pretty much the same in canon except Yi's health had been declining fast during the project's completion, which made Heng worry about her brother and tries to convince him to get some rest but he's got his priorities straight and ignores her pleas. he still tried persuading Heng to board new Kunlun with him and the same events would still play out between the siblings. before the departure Yi had tried everything to cure his 'fever' but to no avail, just as he was about to reach out to Eigong about his health he soon discovers her secret of being the culprit for spreading the virus, feeling betrayed by this he went over to confront her but before he could take action the sickness had taken a toll on him at that point, causing his body to collapse in front of her. Eigong promised to help him with an antidote she'd been working on before he fully loses consciousness. shortly enough during the procedure the experiment turned out to be another critical failure.

turns out Yi ended up being another victim to the other mutant variants, no matter how many times Eigong tried to change and fix the genomes of an infected solarian everything else ends up getting worse and worse and so in an attempt to erase the evidence of her experiments she did the most reasonable act to do so: throwing him off of a cliff. ofcourse thats enough to convince her that he died from that fall. but she sure made a mistake ever since he fell from that cliff because that is NOT enough to actually kill him. oops what you look at that, the mutation causes him to regenerate! and not the fusang roots this time!(Still took like 500 years though)

heres a twist though, Yi wasn't all aware of the surroundings or even to his own state of him being infected. he thinks that everything seemed to be pretty normal but only in his perspective. he falls off a cliff and saved by the fusang roots and found himself face to face with a young apeman. shuanshuan wasn't all that alarmed to see his weird mutated state, infact he wasn't aware about all that virus stuff to begin with. Yi appeared to be a lot more docile around him though. annd thats pretty much the beginning of the AU! not the FULL summary yet bc that might take me 489773798 years to post this but i will make a master post about all the events soon ^^ and to add more into the au as well, yes Yi thought that what he's doing is right in the entire au when in reality he's just out there spreading the virus and infecting the council members too. yikes also sorry for the silly doodles its very late on where i am rn and i need some good eep 💀 i hope you enjoyed reading this though!still feel free to send me any questions!

[luveline]

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 

"Top of your thigh." 

"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 

"Do you want my jacket?" 

"Don't cover it up, toots." 

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 

"We were just messing around," one says. 

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

"I'm fine." 

"You sure?" His voice fries. 

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 

"You shouldn't have to." 

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 

"Right now?" he asks dryly. 

"Are you handsome right now?" 

"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 

"Just a small token," you say. 

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 

"You sure?" 

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 

He pulls you closer. 

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 

[cupidhoons]

UPSIDE DOWN KISS — LHS

in which . . . you give the masked hero a kiss — lhs x f! reader ୨୧ spiderman! au wc 1.2k+ ・ w general warnings, reader gets harassed in the beginning + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !

A/N 💌 haayyyy cupids >< i'm finally rewriting my old works 😛 i hope u guys are enjoying my writing and activity again because i sure am 🎀 i'll try my best to keep up my activity but i cant promise that bc of school (boooo)

THE RAIN WAS POURING down in icy sheets, seeping through your clothes and clinging to your skin. Every drop sent a shiver through your body, but you barely noticed. Not when your lips were pressed against his. The red mask was pulled up just enough to expose his mouth, hiding the rest of his face and keeping his identity a mystery. But right now, that didn’t matter. Right now, all you cared about was this moment, your kiss with Spider-Man.

This was supposed to be a simple thank you after he'd saved your life—not once, but twice. You’d seen his heroics from afar, sure, but never expected to be on the receiving end of them. The first time was during a late-night convenience store robbery. You’d been in the back aisle, crouching down, heart racing, hoping to avoid the attention of the armed men. But then, Spider-Man had appeared, his voice calm, almost amused, as he talked the robbers down.

“What a bunch of idiots…” Heeseung muttered, walking past where you were hiding. The moment he spotted you, he stopped, extending a hand and offering you a comforting smile beneath his mask.

“It’s safe now, y’know?” he said, his voice gentle yet confident. You took his hand, still in a daze, barely able to stammer out a “Thank you, Spider-Man.” He laughed softly, his tone light.

“It’s no problem, really,” he said with a shrug. “Just doing my job.”

The second time, though—that had been different. More intense. Just minutes ago, you were walking home alone after a late study session, cutting through the back alley to save time. You knew it wasn’t the safest route, but it was faster. That decision nearly got you in serious trouble.

“Hey, you!” a voice called from behind, making you turn in fear. You saw two men approaching, their expressions twisted with something sinister. “Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?” another sneered, stepping closer. You tried to ignore them, quickening your pace, but they were relentless. One grabbed your arm, and the other reached for your purse, their hands cold and unrelenting.

“Get off of me!” you screamed, struggling against their grasp. The night air echoed with your cries until another voice sliced through.

“Didn’t you hear the lady? Get off of her!” Heeseung's voice rang, strong and authoritative. The men froze, their eyes widening before they tried to flee, but they didn’t get far. He shot webs at their wrists and ankles, tangling them in place.

He looked down at you from above, his expression hidden but his presence comforting. “Sorry you had to deal with that,” he said, his voice softer as he checked on you. You giggled, glancing at the two men struggling in their webbed binds before looking up at him through the rain.

“Thank you, Spider-Man!” you called up to him with a smile.

“Of course,” he replied. He sounded like he was smiling, too.

Your heart pounded as you called, “Why don’t you come down here? So I can properly show my gratitude!”

Heeseung hesitated, but before he could overthink it, his hands moved, lowering himself toward you. Suddenly, he was inches away, hanging upside down, his face close enough that you could see the outline of his jaw beneath the mask. Raindrops slid down his suit, mixing with the dim streetlight glow, casting shadows across his face as he looked at you.

You took a breath, stepping closer, feeling your heartbeat thunder in your ears. He was so close, close enough that you could see the faint lines of his lips through the fabric. Tentatively, you reached out, fingers brushing against the edge of his mask, tracing the outline of his jaw.

“May I?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. You felt his hesitation, the slight tension in his posture. But after a beat, he released a small sigh and nodded, letting your hand rest against his face.

Carefully, you pulled down his mask, just enough to reveal the bridge of his nose and his mouth. The pale skin beneath was a stark contrast to the dark night and bright red of his suit. And then, you leaned in, closing the gap between you.

The kiss was soft at first, almost shy. His lips were warm and gentle against yours, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain. You cupped his face, your hands trembling as you deepened the kiss. He responded, tilting his head slightly, his lips moving with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

But soon, the kiss grew more intense, more passionate. His hands found their way to your waist, steadying you as he leaned closer, his grip firm yet careful. You felt his lips part, and then his tongue slid against yours, exploring. You let out a soft whine, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. Who would’ve thought Spider-Man was such a good kisser?

Your fingers threaded through the wet strands of his hair that peeked from under his mask, tugging gently. He responded by pulling you even closer, his grip possessive, almost desperate, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of this moment.

You pulled back slightly, panting, your faces mere inches apart as you caught your breath. He was still upside down, but he held your gaze with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. For a moment, you forgot where you were, the rain, the danger, everything. All that mattered was him, the warmth of his body against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“Thank you,” you whispered, brushing your thumb against his cheek, still dazed.

He gave a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced up at you. “For letting me be your hero.”

You smiled, cheeks flushed as the rain continued to fall around you. Part of you wanted to stay like this forever, hidden from the world in this rainy, dim-lit alley with your masked hero.

But reality seeped in as he pulled his mask back up, his identity once again concealed. “Stay safe, okay?” he murmured, reluctantly stepping back as he prepared to swing away.

Before he could leave, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in for one last peck on the lips, a brief, tender goodbye that left you both breathless.

“See you around, Spider-Man,” you whispered, watching him grin under his mask before he leapt into the rain-soaked night, disappearing into the city.

And even as he vanished into the shadows, you stood there, heart pounding, knowing that this wouldn't be the last time your paths would cross.

[ellecdc]

Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!

So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3

(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)

first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA

CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.

You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.

“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.

“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”

Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo. 

“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.

“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.

A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”

Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”

Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”

“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.

“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred. 

Sirius grumbled causing James to blush. 

“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”

Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”

“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”

“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.

Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”

“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”

Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.

You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly. 

“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.

Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw. 

He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.

So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.

You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.

“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.

“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.

“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”

You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off. 

“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”

That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom. 

“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear. 

You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends. 

The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.” 

Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”

Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”

You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”

Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.

“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.

“And Reg and James said no?”

Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all. 

“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.

The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.

“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started. 

You nodded quickly at that. 

“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.

You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”

“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”

And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard. 

“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”

“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”

“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”

“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.” 

You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”

“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble. 

“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.

“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”

“You have?”

“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”

You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”

“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes. 

You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.

The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing. 

You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed. 

“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.

“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.” 

“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”

Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened. 

“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously. 

“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”

Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble. 

“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”

“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged. 

“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”

You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”

Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”

“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees. 

“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you. 

“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.

“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension. 

“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”

“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”

Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.  

“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.

“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.

“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

“And you do.” You agreed.

Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”

Remus made a pitiful sound at that. 

“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating. 

“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”

And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.

Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

༺═──────────────═༻

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[jujutsubaby]

🫧 skin care daddy 🫧

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+

"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.

"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.

"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.

"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.

"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.

you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.

"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."

you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.

you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.

you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.

you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?

nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"

"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.

nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."

you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.

"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.

nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."

"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"

"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.

"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.

"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.

"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.

"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."

nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.

"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.

"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"

"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"

"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"

damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.

"27 and still unmarried? shame."

"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."

"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."

you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.

your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"

"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.

"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."

"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.

nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"

"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.

you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.

you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.

"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."

"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"

"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.

"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"

"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.

you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.

you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.

"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.

"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".

"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"

"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.

"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."

"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"

you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.

your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.

yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."

you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.

"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."

"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?

you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.

one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.

"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.

"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.

"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.

"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.

"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.

"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.

"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.

"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.

yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.

what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.

"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."

"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.

"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".

he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.

"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.

"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.

and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.

"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.

"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.

"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.

you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"

"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.

gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.

"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.

"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”

“what?!” 

“are you a virg-”

“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 

“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 

“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 

“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”

“y-yes?” 

“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”

oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”

“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”

you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 

“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”

what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 

gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 

just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 

“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 

your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 

“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 

you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 

you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 

“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”

he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 

you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 

unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 

“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”

gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 

he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 

you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 

“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”

you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.

your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 

“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 

“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 

hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 

the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 

“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 

“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 

“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 

“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 

your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 

“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 

“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 

gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 

you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 

“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 

“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 

“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 

“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”

he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 

“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 

gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 

“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 

you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 

“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.

you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 

“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 

his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 

you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 

“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 

gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 

“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 

“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 

“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  

“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 

he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 

you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 

“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 

gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 

gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 

“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 

gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”

you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 

everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?

“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 

“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s

“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 

“did you enjoy it?”

a pause from you.. “yes.”

“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 

you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”

“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”

“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 

“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 

you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 

needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 

“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 

you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?

“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 

“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 

you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?

within minutes you get a response: 

gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈

[yourstrulyrika]

just a short smut fic about Leon bc I have history tomorrow and I am about to explode i need to get my mind off of it!! no thoughts about history just Leon !!!

warnings: none! just pure smut with fem!reader

topic: thigh worship bc!! thighs!! i love thighs!! chubby skinny thin toned soft thick IDC i love thighs. so does leon he told me that himself !!!!! Leon Kennedy loves eating you out thats it thats the plot

Leon is a sucker for thighs. He loves thighs. Worships thighs. Could spend hours on your thighs, sleeping on them, kissing them,

but his favorite thing is being between your thighs <3

Leon is a messy eater. You found that long time ago. No matter his mood or energy level — it always ends up messy. Now, Leon has his beloved way of eating you out.

Face sitting

When Leon proposed this idea at first, he was a bit shy, just a bit. His first words were “suffocating between your thighs would be a way to go I wouldn’t complain about.” with that smirk of his. Took a bit to actually get you to sit on him like he’s a damn chair, ended up with him pulling you all the way down, but you’re sitting, so that’s what matters!

When you sat on his face, he thought he’s in heaven. Grows pussydrunk so fast, doesn’t care about his thick cock throbbing in his pants, growls when you try to touch it because why aren’t you focusing on his tongue !! (he ends up cumming in his pants in the end btw)

Slurps, sucks, kisses, nibbles — he LOVES (your) pussy. Leon is a (your) pussy lover. He moans like a damn whore when you grind against him. Sometimes he wraps his hands around your thighs to make you grind against him, eating you so passionately he forgets about the world outside <3 He just loves being used by you!! that’s his life dream!!

“That’s it baby, best pussy in the whole world, lovin’ it s�� much, god,” the crack in his voice is just.. chefs kiss. Sometimes it feels like Leon talks to your pussy instead to you, but you know he loves you as much !!

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, he has to pull out at least two orgasms out of you before he even considers letting you go.

“Cmon.. baby, just one more, know you can do it,” He mumbles between the sucks. He says it for the third time today. You end up completely fucked dumb by his tongue <3 But when he finally stops, he always ends the session with a small press to your clit,

“Sorry baby, not my fault you taste too good.”

Obviously the session doesn’t end there though. Now it’s his time. But not before he presses soft, loving kisses to your thighs, marking them up, gripping them so possessively but still gently. When he’s satisfied with the sight, he finally takes his pants off and lets his cock spring out, hard and leaking for you <3

But no, he doesn’t fuck your pussy. He knows you’re overstimulated! He’s not that cruel!! But he fucks your thighs. Damn, your thighs, he just loves them. He presses your thighs together — he LOVES and lives for the sight of it. And then puts his dick in front of those soft legs, guiding himself between your thighs before finally pushing forward, letting out the loudest whine you heard.

“Shit, s’good, goddamn, you were made for me,“ He genuinely starts babbling, just as fucked dumb as you are. Moving his hips lazily but desperately, covering your inner thighs with his precum. And when he finally cums on your thighs and pulls away, he turns you around and just stares at the art work he made. to him, the sight of your thighs covered in his seed is a damn piece of art.

“Princess, can I take a photo? Looks so pretty, all mine,”

He ends up taking a photo of your thighs like this, his hand resting there and gently squishing the soft flesh, as if marking you as his. You just know he’s gonna jerk his damn soul off to that photo when you’re not around.

End! Phew, that took a minute. I have a history test tomorrow, I will scream my lungs out. Wish me luck or smth </3

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nineteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i'm sorry it took me so long to post this omg i am behind on writing bc i'm so sick but i'm also trying to get ahead on requiem BUT-

Important Announcement!!:

cold nights will officially have a season 3! i wasn't sure but i had a good idea for what the epilogue would be and then i realized it would be so much better as another fully developed idea. so, that will be coming soon!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo smiles as you run up ahead of him, picking up his pace slightly and dropping his bag next to yours.

Some of the others are already stripped down to their bathing suits and running down the dock. It is beautiful here, not that he ever doubted you.

He watches as you peel off your dress, another short one similar to the one you had worn for most of the time he'd known you. This one wasn't sewn in at the middle, so you can slip it quickly over your head. Your bathing suit must have been homemade, too, and it allowed him to see how the bruises and scratches on your back were all but healed while you toss your dress to the ground. He notices quickly that it was exactly the same as Lucy Gray's, maybe your mother had made you matching ones. That's so sweet.

Your skin looked so beautifully soft- just like it should have the first time he saw it, spare for the scars on your calf and your arm, it was just what he imagined.

You kick your shoes off, and the wood of the dock is hot against your bare feet as you run down to the end, diving head-first off to the side to avoid jumping right onto any of your friends.

It seemed to Coryo that you weren't afraid anymore as you briefly looked back at him while you were running. The excited scream you let out when you lept from the dock made his heart flutter. This is exactly what he had wanted, from the very beginning.

When Coryo jumps in behind you, you can hear his shout and feel the water shift around you as his body breaks the surface. You turn under the water, its clarity allowing you to see where everyone is. You loved this. The memories of this lake kept you safe, almost. You can hear muffled laughter above the water, deciding to take your time before coming up for air. You didn't need it just yet.

You swim away from everyone deep under the surface, scanning the lake floor for anything interesting. Really, it was just sticks and rocks and mud, but one day you may find something else exciting, but not today.

"Where is she going?" Coryo comments, watching your body as you kick away deeper under the water.

"Wherever she wants." Lennox answers plainly, treading water as he stares at him.

"She's looking for secrets." Maude Ivory giggles, splashing him in the face. At least she gave him somewhat of an answer.

He quickly lifts an arm to block the wave, but it fails miserably. "What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" He coughs out, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Once we found a watch." Lucy Gray shrugs, looking from him to you. "Which is odd because we didn't know anyone else knew about this place. The secrets are what happens when we aren't here."

You hardly noticed the lack of oxygen until it almost felt too late, quickly swimming up and pushing your hair out of your face so you don't inhale it by mistake.

"Anything good today?" Lucy Gray shouts over to you as soon as she's noticed you've come up.

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so!" You pant, pushing yourself through the water back toward her.

"So, that's a no?" Sejanus asks and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Just rocks and sticks." You explain, joining them again and bumping shoulders with Lucy Gray. "Some weeds, if that's your fancy."

"Oh, yes, that's right up my alley." Sejanus chuckles, cupping his hands to block out the glare of the sun as he looks down into the water anyway.

"I've never been to a lake before," Coryo says, breathing heavily as the waves from the kids splashing keep coming up too close to his face.

"What? Really?" Lucy Gray and Sejanus ask in unison, and you smile at him.

He nods, eyes locking with yours. You feel the need to say something. "Is it everything you dreamt of?" You ask.

"Just about." He grins.

"Oh? What's missing?" You giggle.

Oh, only being able to hold you without retraumatizing you.

"It's not that anything is missing," He comes up with as an excuse. "There's just more birds than I expected."

"Oh, yeah. They like it out here." You hum, looking up at the trees while Lucy Gray whistles out a tune for them to mimic. You smile. "Why, you don't like birds either?"

"Never been the biggest fan, no." He chuckles.

The birds echo her song back to you repeatedly. Coryo turns around to watch as if there was anything to see besides these black birds flitting around the trees and above the cabin. "What kind of birds are they?" He asks. "I've never seen that before."

"We call 'em Mockingjays." Lucy Gray tells him.

"'Cause they'll mock ya if you mess up the song!" Clerk Carmine jumps in, climbing onto Lucy Gray's back under the water.

"Oh, I wouldn't know." Your friend teases him, gripping tight onto the boy's legs as he starts to shout. He knows what's about to happen, and clearly you do too as Coryo watches you and your brother quickly swim out of their reach and closer to him.

You laugh, watching as Lucy Gray takes a big dramatic breath in and sinks under the surface of the water, pulling CC down with her as he screams and splashes.

The sun dried you quickly after you decided you had had enough of the water, climbing back out onto the dock and deciding to just lay your blanket there to dry off on while you took the book and snacks from your bag.

Coryo had been sitting with Lucy Gray and Sejanus, but they were just talking to each other more than him. Not that he could have paid much attention. He was just watching you.

"Can I go talk to her?" He asks with little regard for the conversation that he was interrupting.

They both look over at him. "I mean, you could try. Would that be okay?" Sejanus answers, looking to Lucy Gray for confirmation.

"No. Let her have her peace and quiet." Lennox interrupts as he walks back up in front of them, pulling his shirt back onto his now fully dried skin.

Lucy Gray sighs."Just... Don't be stupid." She advises Coryo, nodding him on. "Len, we'll be right here."

Your brother shakes his head slightly, glaring between the three of them with nothing short of adamant disapproval.

Coryo nods slightly, taking the preferable answer by getting up and heading back down onto the dock.

Lennox looks back over his shoulder to where he just was with Maude Ivory looking for katniss, before taking Coryo's spot on the deck.

"Did she not tell you anything about him?" Lennox mumbles to Lucy Gray, eyes locked on his sister and her 'friend' as he stands over her. "No, she must have- because you were at The Hob last week. You saw it."

"I saw a girl with a lot of unresolved trauma have an episode." Lucy Gray explains, watching Lennox take Coryo's spot next to her. "He made a mistake, but he wouldn't ever hurt her."

Your brother opens his mouth to argue, but Sejanus interrupts. "I know it isn't my place, but Lucy Gray is right. He would sooner die than hurt her."

"Okay, well, explain how he's sitting right next to her when he's already hurt her so bad she may never recover!" Lennox whispers, gesturing to the dock as if they couldn't already see you there.

"I'm not defending anything he's done. That's not what I meant." Sejanus explains. "I just mean he would never do it on purpose."

"Accidents are clearly bad enough."

"Len, he just wants to make amends now." Lucy Gray insists. "And she wants that. I know she does, she's really trying."

"Listen, if it helps..." Sejanus starts, looking back out at you and Coryo on the dock. He can tell how nervous his friend is, watching you intently as he picks at the wood finish beneath him and listening to you talk. "He really loves her. I know it's not my place to tell you that, but it was bad when she was gone. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, he wouldn't put her book down- it was really hard on him. We weren't sure if she had been executed for cheating, and it was killing him to be left in the dark."

"That's not love, that's guilt." Lennox mutters, watching you closely.

"What's the difference between love and guilt?" Lucy Gray asks him rhetorically. "He wouldn't feel guilty if he didn't care."

"The difference is he wouldn't have come here and made the same mistake again."

Lucy Gray bites into her lip, slightly shaking her head. That was an honestly good point.

"I was in the arena, too. I saw what he did." Sejanus says after a moment. "He saved my life, it was my fault. It was shocking... you know, the overkill, but I can't say for certain I wouldn't have done the same thing. We were both pumped so full of adrenaline that I truly believe that's what it was." He explains. "I mean, I was behind him, so I don't know what she saw- but it looked like adrenaline to me."

"How do you think she felt?" Lennox asks, eyes wide. "She was in there for three days! You and him were there for what, ten minutes?"

"Wait..." Lucy Gray backpedals, looking at Sejanus. "Sejanus, what do you mean you thought he was executed for cheating? Like, in the games?"

Sejanus swallows, nodding. He looks over at you but quickly looks away. "Yeah, uh... Coryo told me that she used rat poison to kill two of the others. And he did something to keep the snakes from biting her, but I don't think he was caught for that."

Your brother and best friend look at each other like they'd just seen a ghost before their eyes simultaneously track to you. You were laughing.

"She didn't... She didn't tell me that." Lucy Gray says quietly. "Did you know, Len?"

"No."

"That doesn't surprise me." Sejanus shrugs and they both look at him, shocked and confused. "Well, she doesn't know either. I don't think, definitely not about the snakes, but she told the Dean it was salt. That I gave her." He laughs slightly at the end, but they don't find it funny. "By the time she left, she was fully delusional about it. She knew what it was, Coryo gave it to her to protect herself because he needed her to win. She was really upset by the insinuation that it, in fact, was not salt."

Lucy Gray and Lennox look at each other again, unsure what to say. It must have been worse than they thought. Regardless, they knew it must be eating you alive.

"Can I join you?" You hear Coryo's voice above you after about ten minutes of listening to the mockingjays sing Lucy Gray's song back to her as she sat on the porch of the cabin. The sun was so warm on your skin that you could have fallen asleep here if you weren't reading your book.

You squint against the sun as you look up at him. "Yes, you may." You agree, and you feel him sitting down next to you as the wood creaks below him.

You find yourself holding your breath, even as you return to your book to try and remain relaxed.

He's not going to hurt you.

"What are you reading?" He asks after a moment, thinking your arms must be asleep for using them to hold the book and support your weight for so long.

"It's called 'Much Ado About Nothing'." You answer. "Another Shakespeare piece."

"Do you like it?" He asks, lifting his leg to rest his elbow on his knee while you sit up, crossing your legs and letting the book fall into your lap.

"I do." You smile down at the page. It is much more lighthearted than Romeo and Juliet, as much as you would have loved to come home and drown yourself in your favourite book- the boy next to you unintentionally made it impossible. God, you were so embarrassed by the letter you wrote to him. Your cheeks flush just think about it. All you did by surviving was make everything weird.

"Another tragedy?" He inquires, attempting to read some of the words on the page as it's opened on your lap.

"No." You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's a romantic comedy, actually."

"Oh, wow. You changed it up?" He asks, only somewhat shocked. It would only make sense that you couldn't handle much more tragedy since you've been home.

"I did." You smile. "It's quite funny."

"Will you read me your favourite part?" He suggests, watching your eyes as they light up with excitement from the request.

"Okay, so..." You quickly flip back through the pages and into the first act, scanning for the lines you're looking for. "Okay. Here." You pretend to clear your throat.

"In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature." You recite, dragging your finger along the page so he can track what you are reading. You remembered it, but it might have been easier for him to follow that way.

Coryo watched you the whole time, and by the end, you were a giggling mess. You thought it was absolutely hilarious, and he smiles at that.

"What does that mean?" He chuckles.

"So," You laugh, a hand pressed to your chest. "Basically, she's talking about how she was arguing with Benedick and won. The punchline is that she let him keep one of his wits, because if she didn't no one would be able to tell him from his horse."

Coryo laughs at that, shaking his head. "That is good." He agrees.

"Isn't it?" You smile. "It's a welcome change of pace."

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet was... yikes." He says, ticking his jaw and peeling up some of the wood from the dock between you.

"You read it?" You ask quietly, eyes widening as you look over at him. It shouldn't shock you, he told you he would, and that he even looked forward to it. "What did you think?"

"Of course I did," Coryo nods. "I really enjoyed it."

"It doesn't seem like it..." You laugh nervously, looking down as you flip back to the page you were on before closing the book.

"No, truly. I did." He insists. "Just... for lack of a better term, it was tragic."

"Yes, well..." You chuckle, shrugging slightly and tucking your book back into the bag next to you.

"It was heartbreaking!" He laughs suddenly. "And that's your favourite?" He looks at you then, head tilted as he slightly shakes his head.

"Okay, so," You laugh, rolling your eyes. You were used to defending this to others who have tried reading it. "That's what makes it so beautiful. It's so touching, they died for each other thinking they were in love, but they also hardly knew each other. It forces you to wonder what could have been, and I like that."

"Okay, well, you're right." Coryo agrees. "I didn't like the ending, but that's the point, I suppose. The rest was good, it reminded me a lot of you."

"I think I forced a bias onto you. My apologies."

"You didn't force anything on me." He smiles, shaking his head. "All I knew is that you loved it, and that made it so much better."

Your cheeks flush as you busy yourself by pulling out the bag of cherries. "Would you like some?" You offer the bag to him and he reaches in, taking just a couple out and popping one into his mouth.

"I finished it all before you left." Coryo tells you, and you hold him out another empty paper bag to spit the pits into.

"That good?" You smile and he nods.

"Can I..." Coryo starts, and you tilt your head at him. He doesn't want to ruin your day by bringing this up. Everything on your face shows hope, even excitement for what he is going to say. "If you can't hear this stop me, but the book made great company in the mentor hall."

For a moment, he saw nervousness flicker behind your eyes, but still, you nodded. You wanted to hear anything he had to say- you just hoped you could stomach it.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm... I'm glad." You try and smile, distracting yourself by popping a cherry into your mouth.

"I was alone most of the time. I didn't go home." He tells you, trying to say what he wanted but still be as vague as possible.

"It must have been so horribly boring." You laugh nervously, swallowing the cherry pit as you reach for another of the small red fruits, picking the stem from it and flicking it into the lake.

"I wish it was." He replies, watching you closely to see if and when he's crossed a line. You nod in understanding, and he takes a nervous breath in. "I... The alternative was that I got sent home like some of my classmates. I wasn't going to leave until I had to."

'Until I had to.'

So he was forced to go in for Sejanus. Why on earth would they not send peacekeepers? Why another child?

"I... I appreciate that." You stammer out, looking down at your lap, noticing for the first time that your hands were trembling. "That must have been uncomfortable. I apologize."

Coryo furrows his brow at you. "No, I'm sorry. Why would you apologize to me?" He asks. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. That I couldn't get you out."

"You did more than you had to." You say, voice quiet with your honesty.

"No." He shakes his head. "I had to do everything I did. I couldn't let you die."

"You saved my life, and... and-" It happens very suddenly when a tear falls down your cheek; you didn't even notice you were starting to panic.

"No, wait, I'm sorry, hey, don't cry..." Coryo says quickly. He wants to help, to do something, but he feels helpless. Again. He feels sick with the knowledge that he always says the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." You mumble, trying to wipe your eyes but you're finding it hard to speak.

"Don't be, please don't be sorry." He pleads with you, shifting so he's kneeling next to you, placing a hand on your back.

You almost jump away, head flying to look at him. He's just rubbing your back. He's only trying to help.

Instinctively, your eyes search for his. They aren't hard to find, and all you can see as you search them is worry. Nothing malicious. "I... Do you want me to get Lucy Gray? Or your brother?" He offers, grabbing your shaking hands in his free one. "Just take deep breaths."

You nod, scared to look away for even a second. So he has to.

Coryo turns back, swallowing his pride. "Lennox! Lucy Gray!" He shouts, drawing their attention quickly.

He accepted the berating he was about to get from your brother before it even came.

"What did you do?" Lennox asks him, forcing himself between the two of you.

"We were just talking and I think I said something- I don't know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Coryo answers honestly, standing up and taking a step back.

You're watching him, intently, despite Lucy Gray taking over holding you and talking to you in hushed tones, trying to ease your mind.

"I'm okay." You tell her, nodding. You don't look at her, only watching him. Watching his eyes- but nothing changes. Baby blue. Worry. More worry.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[nebbydotexe]

I’d love to see the fishing outfits you have cooking up!

sorry this took a bit, ive been sick for a few days and these took a lot longer to draw than i expected LMAO

more below the cut!!

if you dont feel like zooming in the hat says "women ghosts fear me, fish fear me, men turn their eyes away from me, as i walk no beasts dare make a sound in my presense, i am alone on this barren earth" LMAO

he only catches clams dw!! i had to draw him with his jellyfishing glasses bc theyre just too cute... i think he'd wear them when clam fishing too!

thought the fairly odd fishing rod would be a clever name :)

unfortunately couldnt think of anything cooler than "neutronic fishing rod" but it goes along with how he names literally everything else so i dont really care atp... his fishing rod is probably too good at catching fish and they end up with a problem caused because of it (i might draw this actually...)

[elliesflower]

hii, i love your work so much <3 can u write smth about reader and abby (in a pre established relationship) where readers mind just goes completely blank as she stares at abbys arms when she works out or literally does anything and abby notices and fucks her hard and uses her strength to do whatever she wants with reader? would also be nice if u could write smth about overstimulation <3 i know its not a noticeable detail for this req but pls write black!reader bc i am too and need some abby for myself tysm 🫶

what you need [abby anderson]

pairing; abby x black fem!reader

cw; top!abby, bottom!reader, strap-on usage (r!recieving), overstimulation, dirty talk/gendered pet names, kinda leaning on bimbo/subspace territory

an; thank u so much for this request sweetheart! i hope u enjoy, please let me know what u think!! i'm sorry the ending is a little rushed, i've literally been trying to post this for like three weeks lmfao. also i did not proofread this v well so if u see a mistake no u dont <3

tags; @scandalcus @prrimordiais @roarriita

18+ only, mdni!!!!

you don’t consider yourself weak. 

but when you were looking at abby, perhaps you were. just a bit. 

“babe? the chalk,” abby’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you shook your head slightly, as if it would get rid of them, reaching behind you to grab the chalk before crossing the room to hand it to her. 

“thanks,” she didn’t even look at you, and you almost huffed. you’ve been with her at the gym for what feels like hours now, even though it’s probably only been more like thirty minutes. you started out just walking on the treadmill, but got bored pretty quickly when you realized you could be watching your girlfriend train instead. 

she was training for a pr on her deadlift, and she was getting close. you’d barely seen her this week—when she wasn’t on patrol, she was in the gym. you fell asleep before she got home almost every night, and when you woke up, she was already gone. it was driving you crazy, and now that you were together, she still was barely paying you any mind. 

she rubbed the chalk between her hands, clapping them out on her thighs before positioning herself behind the bar. you sat back down behind her and watched as she bent over, gripping the metal bar, her forearms flexing as she adjusted her grip. you practically had to wipe the drool away from your mouth as you watched her begin to lift, admiring the way her veins popped out from beneath her skin, her shoulders glistening with sweat as her muscles flexed with the effort it took to lift the weights. 

her brows were knit together in concentration as she watched herself in the mirror, gritting her teeth together and keeping her breath as controlled as possible. you couldn’t help but to feel flustered as she panted, imagining the sounds in a…much different context.

the sound of the weights clattering to the ground snapped you out of your head for a second time, and you flinched, watching as abby smiled at herself in the mirror, flexing and slapping her bicep. 

“yeah, that’s right,” she spoke, and oh, that sounded eerily similar to her bedroom voice, “that’s what i’m fucking talking about! did you see that shit?” she turned to face you now, still grinning from ear-to-ear. “beat my pr by forty pounds, i gotta get manny in here tomorrow to verify because that shit is going up on the board.”

you smiled up at her, nodding—but it was kind of hard when you were also focused on pressing your thighs together, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere along the line, your panties had become damp, sticking delicately to your folds as you watched abby training. her mouth twitched just slightly at the corner, and you swallowed. you knew abby could read you like the back of her hand, no matter how hard you tried to hide from her. 

“something wrong, baby?” she asked, feigning concern. her tank top was covered in sweat around the neckline, her forehead glistening under the fluorescents as she walked toward you. you shook your head, a bit too quickly, and it was telling. your throat felt dry, your brain absolutely scrambled as you looked up at her. she stopped directly in front of you, towering over you so that you had to strain your neck to look up at her. if there wasn’t a giant wall of windows to the left of you, you couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t just sink down to your knees and kiss her fucking feet. she looked like an angel—scratch that, god—above you as you watched her through your lashes, stomach tying in knots. 

she wasn’t saying anything. she was just looking at you, breathing heavy, with half of that stupid smile still on her face. you focused your own breathing, in and out, but it didn’t help that she was so close you could smell her, sweaty musk that could only smell good on her, and it was making you dizzy. and she fucking knew it too. 

“alright then,” she said finally, bending down to your level so that your faces were mere inches apart. “what d’you say we go clean up and meet jordan and leah for dinner?” oh, right. there was that. you could only nod, and abby’s eyes were wild, flickering down to your mouth before meeting yours again. 

“let’s go.” her voice was sharp, commanding, and she went to retrieve her gym bag. you sat silently for another moment, trying to will yourself to calm down, just a bit. you knew you’d get back to the room and she wouldn’t be able to resist—she’d have you pinned up against the wall before you could even blink. 

except, she didn’t. she tossed her bag to the ground and began gathering things for her shower, effectively ignoring, even as you changed out of your shirt extra slowly, just waiting for her to turn around and catch you. but she didn’t, and didn’t even say another word as she slipped out the door to take a shower. you scrunch your brows together, lips pouting slightly as you get dressed for dinner, making sure to put on a clean pair of underwear. you were so worked up, part of you wanted to touch yourself, right here and now—but you didn’t even want to think about how long abby might make you wait if she came back and found you knuckle deep in your pussy. so you didn’t.

dinner with leah and jordan was pleasant. leah’s cooking was insane, as always, and jordan and abby caught up on some big assignment that was coming up, still paying you little attention. after dinner, you were excited to get back to your room, practically salivating at the thought of what abby might do to you, but jordan just had to suggest watching a movie. and of course, abby just had to agree. 

you were a bit surprised when abby pulled you onto her lap on the couch, seeing as she had practically been avoiding you like the plague since the gym, and oh—she was packing.

leah rested her head on jordan’s lap on the loveseat beside you, their bodies conveniently angled just so that you were out of view. your eyes widened, breath hitching as abby snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you further back into her as she readjusted her position against the couch, effectively grinding her hips up into you. you bit your lip as you leaned back into her, glancing over at leah and jordan to confirm they couldn’t see you. she smelled like pine and her hair was down, fuck she looked so good with her hair down. 

“wassa’ matter babe?” abby whispered against your neck, and you shivered. “you’re so tense.” she punctuated her point with a hand on your shoulder, her thumb pressing into the junction of your neck. 

“nothing,” you lied, trying to keep your voice quiet and steady. “just watching the movie.” and thinking about abby flipping you over and railing you into next week. but you didn’t say that part. you didn’t even know what movie was playing. 

“mhm,” she murmured behind you, her hand trailing around your middle to meet her other, pressing you even further against her. you could feel her cock pressing into your ass, and you had to bite back a moan. you reached to grasp at her wrists, your fingers not even wrapping around the girth of them, trying to grind your hips for just a little bit of friction—anything, you’d take anything you could get at this point—but she only tightened her grip, halting your movements. 

“stop squirming,” she said quietly. “m’trying to watch the movie.” it was really unfair, how her voice was so steady, and her breathing so even. meanwhile, you thought you might explode, nails digging into her skin as you tried your best to ignore the heat in your stomach, and how you were definitely ruining this pair of panties as well. 

she held you like that, for a few minutes longer, or hours, maybe, how long was this fucking movie? your pussy was clenching and unclenching, your heart beating out of control as you tried to ignore the feeling of abby beneath you to no avail. 

suddenly, thankfully, she relinquished her hold on your waist, smoothing her hands down the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“hey, i’m getting pretty tired. i’ve gotta be up pretty early, i think we’re gonna turn in,” she said over the movie, and jordan craned his neck to look at the pair of you standing up. you really hoped your face didn’t give away how insanely flustered you felt. leah was passed out in his lap, and he gave you both a nod and bid you goodnight. 

in the hallway, abby was back to ignoring you. you could barely keep up with her as she strode ahead. you were aching at this point, genuinely surprised you weren’t leaking straight down your thighs as you watched her back muscles flex beneath her shirt. you loved this game. and she knew it too. 

she stopped just outside your door, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms as she waited for you to unlock it. before you could get both feet through the doorway, she was right behind you, chest pressing against your back as she ushered you inside, closing the door behind her and spinning you around so that she could press you against it. you gasped, flattening your palms against the door as you looked at her, your head trapped between her arms. you burned under her gaze, stomach tightening and legs going weak. 

“don’t think i didn’t see your face in the mirror while i was training,” she said quietly, grabbing the back of your neck to keep your eyes on her. you were so fucking horny you didn’t have the semblance to be ashamed as she all but taunted you.

“hm? just watching me work out gets you all hot and bothered?” you felt like your neck might snap from nodding so hard. abby laughed quietly at you, the sound only turning you on more. 

“yeah i know, because you know i could take you any way i wanted and you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. so fucking spoiled,” she was teasing you, and you whined. “you’ve been so patient with me this week,” she pressed her lower half against you, using her hand to press the side of your face into the door, making you once again aware of the silicone cock in her pants. she could feel your pulse thrumming against her fingers, exciting her. “gonna make it all better now, okay? i’m gonna give you what you need…” her lips were ghosting over your ear, and you were quite literally trembling in her grasp, taking in a shaky breath as you waited patiently. 

“so good for me,” she grabbed you by the jaw, before she placed a kiss on your lips and pulled back, causing you to let out a pitiful whine. 

“tell me what you want,” her lids were heavy as she looked at you, her poor, poor baby—lips parted, eyes glazed over, panting with a desperate need. you pouted slightly. surely she’d give in, right? she’s already had you waiting for so long. 

she gripped your jaw tighter, making you gasp as she pressed you further into the door. you were helpless, completely at her mercy, her strength always hyper evident when she had you like this. “c’mon, tell me what you want.” you felt tears welling in your eyes, balling your hands into fists as she watched your face. 

“use me,” your voice broke through, small and weak. somehow, abby’s face remained stoic, though you saw her draw in a sharp breath. she pulled her hand away to tap at your cheek, not quite a slap, but enough that you were whining. 

“manners,” she reprimanded, withdrawing her hand completely. you let a tear fall as you were overcome with frustration, emptiness–

“please, use me, please abby, i missed you,” and it was pathetic, how a sob escaped your lips. but it was okay, because you knew she’d make it all better, her eyes going soft for a moment before she was pulling you in, slotting your lips together in a messy kiss. you could taste as your tears mixed with saliva, letting her suck your tongue into her mouth before trailing her hands down to your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing. 

“jump,” she mumbled against your lips, and you obliged, letting her pull you in as you wrapped your legs around her waist. she carried you across the room with ease, and you couldn’t help but try to press deeper against her lower half.

“so fuckin’ pretty baby,” she mumbled against you, and she was setting you down on the table. “was so hard to not to just bend you over that couch and fuck you like you deserve,” oh god, oh fuck, you were moaning against her mouth, letting her hands find the hem of your shirt before she was pulling it off over your head, exposing your breasts. 

“bet you’d like that, hm? letting me fuck you in front of our friends, show them how dirty you really are?” she rasped, her voice holding a desperate edge. you whined at the notion, the fact that she was just as desperate for you as you were for her. you nodded pathetically as she rubbed a thumb across your sensitive nipples, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you gripped the edge of the table. 

she dipped her head down, swirling her tongue over one of your nipples and you threaded your fingers through her hair, gripping tightly as your head fell back in ecstasy, mouth falling open in a silent moan. she kissed her way back up to your mouth as you panted heavily. she wasn’t even teasing you, she was so desperate, the heat radiating off her body as she continued messily kissing up to your neck, your jaw, back to your mouth where she parted your lips with her own, fumbling with the button of your jeans. 

“yeah, i know baby, i know,” her voice was like velvet, scratchy and soft at the same time against your lips. “just need me to take care of you, huh? that it?” she was practically manhandling you to lift your hips up and pull off your pants and panties, your tailbone connecting rather harshly with the wooden table once you were exposed—you didn’t have the semblance to be embarrassed at how it barely even hurt as your body was overwhelmed with adrenaline, with desire, with abby. 

“yes, god,” you threw your head back, wrapping your legs around her waist to draw her in closer as she sucked a fresh mark into your neck, and then another, and another, leaving you grinding helplessly against her, your wetness allowing you to rub your clit directly against the bulge in her pants. your whining was pornographic, desperate and loud, the friction clouding your mind with ecstasy. “missed you so much, abs, please–”

“fuckin’ needy,” she gritted, pressing on your lower back to get you even closer, eliciting a gasp from your mouth as you clutched onto her shoulder with one hand while the other kept you steady on the table. “barely been a week and you just need it that bad, can’t even wait for my cock?” her words were filthy, and your grinding even filthier, desperate and rough, like you were a bitch in heat—abby’s strong arm was keeping you in place as you took your pleasure, the feeling overwhelming your body as you panted and gasped, and oh, since when were you able to cum this fast? “c’mon baby, that’s it– take what you need, i got you.”

it must have barely been five seconds before you were losing it, body tensing as your hips stuttered, feeling your wetness absolutely drenching the front of abby’s pants. “oh m’godm’godfuckingchrist–” you babbled incoherently as she held you through it, murmuring praises and trying to hide her own groans by biting down into your shoulder. your used clit was puffy and sore against the rough fabric of her pants as you came down, whining as abby reached between your bodies. 

“such a fucking good girl, my god,” she praised, giving you no time to recover as she ran her fingers through your slick folds. you moaned, your thighs closing around her arm instinctively as she explored your wetness, slipping two fingers inside with ease. 

“abby, s’too much, please,” your voice was pitiful, broken and whiny as you gripped her arm, your words inconsistent with the way your walls fluttered around her fingers as she opened you up, unable to resist her, even when it felt like too much—because you know it wasn’t too much. in fact, maybe it wasn’t enough. abby knew your body, exactly how you needed to be taken apart, brought to your peak and taken care of.

“yeah? you don’t want this then?” she taunted, and took her fingers out so that she was just teasing your entrance. 

“no!” you gasped, the empty feeling making your stomach twist, tears streaming down your face. “please, i- i can take it, please, i’m sorry,” you begged, would practically say anything or do anything at this point. but you knew abby wouldnt make you wait long, smirking at you before pressing her fingers back in just as quickly as she’d pulled out. she couldn’t resist you, especially after not having you for an entire week. 

“i know you can baby, such a good girl,” she was working her fingers into you rapidly now, determined to make you come on her fingers again before she impaled you on her strap.and it wouldn’t take long, what with your sensitive cunt being abused again. you were shaking, could feel your wetness pooling beneath you, ruining the table as you moaned and panted. “c’mon, let go for me baby, let go,” her voice washed over you, started as the sweat on your hairline until it was making your stomach twist, your thighs tremble and your toes curl, your pussy gushing out for the second time already that night. 

“fuck,” you whined, clenching desperately around nothing as she pulled her fingers out of you, digging your nails into her shoulder as she ran a finger over your swollen clit again, making you gasp out her name, broken and pitiful. your heart was beating out of your chest, watching abby draw her fingers up to your mouth. your lips parted automatically, allowing her to press her fingers in, pressing down on your tongue as you sucked your juices off of her. 

“yeah, that’s it,” she breathed. “clean up your mess baby.” so full of love and adoration, but she wanted more. you could see it in her eyes as they flashed something wild, and knew she wasn’t planning on stopping. watching your pleasure was doing something to her she couldn’t even explain, practically moaning at the sight and feeling of you sucking on her fingers.

you were tired, your multiple orgasms after a dry spell catching up to you quickly, and abby could sense your sudden change in demeanor—your eyes drooping slightly as you sucked lazily on her fingers, your index finger holding onto one of her belt loops to keep you upright. you were a sight, your juices spilled all over the table, your thighs sticky and messy with your arousal. she almost took pity on you, almost. but she knew her good girl could take just one more. 

and you knew it too, what with the way she was looking at you. the thought made you feel dirty, and made you moan around her fingers, grasping on her wrist as you started sucking on them just a little bit harder, that little flame in your tummy igniting once more. you watched abby’s eyes darken as you sped up, her chest rising and falling quicker as she felt your tongue wrapping around her fingers.

“oh m’god, baby,” she groaned, and she withdrew her fingers, a string of saliva dribbling down your chin as she shuffled backwards to undo her pants. “i gotta fuck you baby, gotta give you what you deserve,” she was rambling as you leaned back on your elbows, your legs twitching as the cool air washed over your damp pussy, on display for your girlfriend. “gonna give you this cock baby don’t worry.”

“please abby,” and unspoken was please take care of me, please fuck me, please do anything you want to me, and she would. there was no doubt. you could barely see the black silicone spring free from down the line of your body as you were laid back on the table. 

“i know baby, i know,” abby gripped your hip with one hand, her blunt nails digging into the flesh with a delicious sting, and you tried to pull back when the tip of her strap brushed over your over-sensitive clit. it made your brain all fuzzy, your whole body tingling with the over-sensitivity, the push and pull of wanting more but feeling so used. “just let me in, you can take it,” she was practically cooing, teasing your entrance as you writhed on the table, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to watch. 

“abby!” you cried as she pushed past the tight ring of muscle, your back arching so that you sat up higher, the angle pressing her cock right against your most delicate spot. abby’s hand immediately came around to your back, holding you up before you dead-weighted and hit your head on the wooden table. 

“i got you, angel, you’re okay,” she was mesmerized, watching the way your body responded to her. you were so fucked out, the feeling of her cock stretching you out making you whine and pant and feel so fucking dirty. “c’mon baby, sit up. hands around my neck, you can do it,” she was pulling you up, and you obliged, reaching up to wrap your arms lazily around her neck. she snaked both arms around your waist and lifted you up off the table, causing you to cry out and bury your face into her neck. 

“that’s it, just relax,” she kept herself nestled deep inside you, almost pressed against your cervix when you wrapped your legs around her waist and whined pitifully, the sound muffled by abby’s shirt. her hands snaked down to your ass to keep you spread open as she held you still and began to thrust slowly up into your sore cunt. 

“oh m’god abby, jesus,” you cried as she fucked into you with seemingly no effort, your wet pussy making obscene noises each time she pulled out. you were already teetering right on the edge, and the feeling of her cock filling you up was going to be your downfall. she groaned each time she felt you tensing in her grip, and she was faltering with her own arousal. 

“such a good fucking girl,” she was almost growling, and you were so close, so fucking close, your juices dribbling out indecently around her as she fucked you to overstimulation. “taking everything i give you…is my pretty girl going to come again for me? hm?” you could do nothing but nod as abby bounced you up and down on her thick cock, desperate to bring you to your release. 

“well c’mon then,” she whispered against the side of your face and your eyes rolled back into your head as your pussy tightened around her, nearly suffocating her with your arms as your body was overwhelmed by your third orgasm of the night. a broken mantra of abby abby abby abby spilling from your lips as you tumbled over the edge again. 

“that’s it baby, fuck,” abby’s voice was almost as broken as yours, pulling you closer into her hips as you cried into her shoulder. 

“my fucking best girl.”

[angels-fantasy]

Congratulations on your followers milestone! Can I ask for the prompt "first fight" with Dabi?

Scars and All

Dabi/Touya x Reader

Details/Warnings: lowkey toxic relationship, arguing, kinda angsty LMAO i'm sorry i cant help but make dabi angsty. hurt/comfort i think, angst to fluff? dabi is trying, okay? also dabi is called touya in this fic!

Word Count: 957

hello thank you sm for your ask and the congratulations :) i hope you like this, i really like dabi bc 1) hes hot lol and 2) hes such a well written character. also i'm going to start writing in all lowercase bc its what im used to and upper case drives me crazy!!

loneliness was something that consumed you constantly. it was a scary feeling sometimes, especially because of the things it could drive someone to do.

you wished you didn't feel like this, but you couldn't help it.

before getting into a relationship with touya, you knew of the lifestyle he lived and how much of his time it took up. at first you thought you could handle it, but over time you soon realized that wasn't true. hours of him being gone quickly turned into days, sometimes even weeks and it was driving you crazy. you really wanted to try and continue to sit compliantly and let him do what he wished to do, but you were at your wits end.

sometimes you wondered why you even continued to put up with him, especially when you knew deep down that he'd probably choose to continue committing villainous acts over your relationship.

but you knew the answer to that-it was because you loved him, and sometimes love can make you do crazy things.

so now here you were; sitting on the old couch in your living room. the edges of the fabric having frayed ends and burn marks here and there from the moments touya let his temper get the best of him.

you can't remember how long you've been sitting there anxiously, waiting for your boyfriend to get home, but you felt your heart beat faster when you heard the front door being unlocked.

you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to confront touya, who sighed as he walked through the door and his heavy boots thudding along with each step.

he walked over to you and threw himself down on the couch, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. moments like this made it hard to stay mad.

he placed a kiss on your temple, "hey. you miss me?"

you fiddled with your fingers as you leaned further into his chest, "of course i did. i'm glad you're home."

he tilted his head down to look at you, "then how come you don't sound happy, huh?" he asked, squeezing your shoulder as he did so.

you frowned, knowing he'd caught onto your bad mood already. he was way too perceptive sometimes.

"i am happy touya, i promise." you insisted, "it's just..."

"it's just what?"

you sat up from your position and faced him, but it was hard to look him in the eyes. "i just wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me."

he looked at you for a moment, expressionless, making you even more nervous until he said, "alright, what is it?"

you took a deep breath.

"you're never home touya, and i miss you." you frowned, "i worry about you and when you're gone for so long i get lonely. i miss spending time with you."

he groaned, "babe, do you not understand why i'm gone? or do i need to tell you, is that it?" he asked.

you regretted this now.

"no, i know why but it's just-"

"if you know why, then why do you fucking ask me?!" he yelled, making you shrink into yourself. you two had bickered over things before and there were even times when you needed space from each other, but touya had never yelled at you like this.

you could feel your eyes prick with tears and the lump in your throat grow, "touya don't yell at me!" you cried.

"i'm yelling at you so you get this through your god damn head!" he snapped, "i can't be here, sitting on my ass like you every fucking day. i have shit i need to do to make my plans happen!"

you gasped at his words. did he really think that's all you did?

"you know damn well i don't just stay at home on my ass, touya! i work too!" you said, tapping his chest with your finger as you pointed it at him.

"i buy the groceries! i make the food! i wash your blood stained clothes! i do everything i can, but you don't know because you're never here!" you yelled, taking a deep breath after so you could continue speaking.

you sighed heavily and spoke softly, your energy gone from yelling. "you're never here touya..." you sniffed, letting the tears run down your cheeks. you brought your hands up to your eyes to wipe them away, "i love you, so i miss you. i just wish you were home more so i don't have to spend my nights all alone."

touya was breathing heavily, but sitting silently as he processed your words. he was perceptive, sure, but he wasn't really good with emotions and dealing with people when they were upset.

feeling guilty, he wrapped his arms around your crying figure and hugged you tightly to his chest. he brought a hand up to your head and stroked it gently, shushing your cries. you stayed like that until your crying had become sniffles with occasional hiccups.

"i'm sorry," he said softly, "i'm sorry i'm always gone. i fucking suck at this, i don't know how to be here for you... but i'm going to do better now, for you, okay? i love you too. i don't say that enough."

you brought your hands away from your face and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his beating heart and closing your eyes.

"as long as you try, touya. i know you're not perfect, and that's okay with me. i love you the way you are."

"scars and all?" he asked jokingly, making you giggle.

"scars and all."

authors note

love ya!

[that1emowitch]

One shot suggestion: Dick finding out about joyfire bc him finding out his little brother is dating his EX (and honestly probably his other ex too, let’s be real) IS SO FUNNY

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!

(also can I just say I also love ur username <3)

This isn't short enough to be a drabble but not exactly too long either, it's 760 words, so make of that what you will. Here it is!

TW: Jason's usual level of swearing but milder

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!"

Dick stood in Jason's doorway at the Manor, eyes wide. This was one of those rare times when Jason was staying here, just for a few days, mostly for Alfred's sake. His friends (or so Dick thought) Roy and Kori had joined him— for reasons unknown.

Dick was... feeling slightly awkward with them being around, Kori more so. He was quite civil, buddies, even, with Roy— after all, they'd only dated for a week or so. But Kori... their relationship had not ended well, at all. But Jason refused to unless his Outlaws did, so Dick let it slide.

He'd gone up to call them down for dinner, at Alfred's bidding, going to Jason's room first... to find Jason sitting on Kori's lap while she cradled him, and Roy french-kissing Jason.

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!" The words tore out of him as he stood with his eyes wide, trying to process what he'd just seen.

Jason turned beet red, suddenly jumping away from the red heads. Kori sat cross-legged, smiling as if nothing had happened, while Roy wore a smug grin.

Dick turned to them, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "AND YOU ARE DATING MY LITTLE WING?"

"I ain't little, Dickface," Jason scoffed from the corner, looking downright embarrassed.

"I don't see the problem," Kori stood from the bed, towering over all three men. "You and I, or you and Roy are not dating anymore. And we are all adults. And we have the love for each other. Why would we not date?"

A unbelieving sound escaped Dick. He turned to Roy, eyes flaming. "You. I know for a fact how vulgar you get in a relationship. Have you done it with my baby brother?"

From across the room he heard Jason's choked gasp, but he paid it no mind.

"Dude. Your 'baby brother' is 24." Roy shrugged, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Why're you getting so worked up over it?"

"I'm not— no, no, I'm not worked up!" Dick scoffed. He faced Jason, pouting. "You. You stole my exes!"

Finally, Jason managed to get control over his expression and forced a smirk. "Yeah. Maybe they just know who's better."

"Yes, Jason is a much better of the partner than you, Dick," Kori pointed out not-so-helpfully.

Roy finally registered Dick's bloodthirsty expression and backed away, hands lifted. "Whoa, hey, man, chill. Seriously."

"I am chill," Dick snapped, glaring at him. He turned back to Jason, who was clearly trying to appear cool and intimidating, and pointed an accusing finger. "You have so much to explain. But right now Alfred wants you all down for dinner."

Then he left the trio without a word.

A bit after dinner, Dick finally found Jason alone in the library, reading some book titled 'Jane Eyre'.

"Jason." Dick walked towards him, expression a forced calm. "I am... sorry about how I reacted earlier."

Jason looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. "No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Dick agreed, sitting beside his brother. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't tell the rest of the Bat-cult either. You're not special." Jason leaned back, carefully placing a bookmark in the book before putting it aside.

Dick took this as a sign that Jason wanted to talk. "Jaybird... I'm your big brother, you know I love you, right?"

Jason looked away, muttering something that sounded like a mix of "Fuck off" and "Yeah, I know."

"It's just... If you'd told me, yeah, I might have freaked out at first. But I just want you to be happy, in the end. And if you're happy with my exes..." Dick sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with it."

Jason turned back to his brother, glaring slightly. "Stop calling them your exes. That's my girlfriend and boyfriend you're talking about."

Dick winced. "Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I just... Do you just have a thing for redheads? You had that schoolboy crush on Babs when you were, like, 13. You were dating Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. And now you're dating Roy and Kori."

Jason scoffed. "You're one to talk. You've dated Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally West... Do I really have to go on?"

Dick chuckled, laying an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"We're adopted, asshole," Jason grumbled, but leaned into Dick's touch.

After a long beat of silence, Jason spoke up again. "I also dated Rose Wilson for a while. She is not a redhead."

An amused laugh escaped Dick, and he ruffled Jason's hair lovingly. "Yeah, yeah."

[ananxiousgenz]

pssst. pssssssst. hey guys. look at what i got y'all (IT'S MORE JARTHUR COWBOY AU)

this one comes with several pieces of info you need to know first:

@percymawce-arts and I are writing this fic together!!! we have entered into writers matrimony for this fic and we are super excited about it!! I wrote the bare bones of the scene you're about to read and he added almost all of the flavor and spice (while i was laying on my bed in the family guy dead pose bc of how good he made it). make sure to go show percy some love for this too!!

this scene takes place after one where john and arthur chase after larson, but arthur refuses to shoot him, and john is more than a little pissed off about it.

and some trigger warnings: this scene contains some fighting (both verbal and physical), child abuse, religious trauma, homophobia, and some suggestive themes

and finally, i will tag @ellamenop and @izel-reblogs bc i have a feeling you will both enjoy this :)

“What,” John snarled, slamming the cabin door shut behind him, “the fuck. What was that?!”

“None of your business,” Arthur replied, ever so prim and fucking proper. He kept his back to John, maybe to hide his face, so John couldn’t read him. Maybe because he was too much of a coward to meet John’s eyes after that stunt. John didn’t care what the reason was. It was only pissing him off more.

“No. Fuck that. It's all my business.”

“I didn't fire a gun. How is that making you upset?”

“You had him right in front of you,” John rumbled, his voice as low and dangerous as thunder on the horizon. Arthur shivered. “And you let him go. You had the opportunity to kill him. To end this, all of this. And you let it slip through your fucking fingers.”

“Maybe I didn't want to kill him.”

“What the fuck does that matter? He's too goddamn dangerous to be left alive!”

“It's not that simple, John-”

“The hell it is! I’m sorry you feel conflicted or whatever it is that’s going on in that head of yours, but this isn’t about you! All you had to do was fire the fucking gun. He was right in front of you, and you didn't shoot!”

“No, I didn't!”

“Why?!”

“You want to know why?” Arthur shouted, whipping around to face John, at last. “Because I can't kill another person! Even someone as awful as Larson! I’m not like you! This isn’t easy for me, alright?!”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Arthur’s face fell. John could see the regret wash over his face like a cloud over the burning sun, but it only lasted a moment before he was collecting himself. Putting on that same mask of polite-until-you-fuck-with-me he always wore around suspects and targets. John had never had that face turned on him before. He hated it.

“So that’s what this is about,” John murmured, his tone dark. “You think it’s easy… You think I’m a monster, and you’d rather let Larson go free than be like me.”

“No, John, that’s not-”

 “Who do you think made me that way?” John snapped. Arthur’s mouth closed so fast John heard his teeth click. “It was him, Arthur. It was Larson. And thanks to you, he’s going to go and do it to another lonely, scared Native kid with nowhere else to go!” John chuckled humorlessly. “Christ, Arthur, If that’s what you thought of me, why didn’t you just say it at the start?”

Arthur threw up his hands in frustration. “That’s not what I think of you, John. Jesus, am I not allowed to have a minor moral crisis over shooting a man?!”

“He’s not just a man! He’s a gangster! A robber! A killer! You told me so yourself!”

“So are you, John.”

“Yeah, and you shot me for it,” John reminded him. 

Arthur growled and slammed his fist down on the mantle of the fireplace beside them, hard enough that John could feel the vibration travel through the floor. “Jesus fucking Christ, John, I wanted to let the law deal with him! Is that so hard to understand?!”

John took a step in Arthur’s direction. “Oh yeah? The same law that ripped me away from my family and home? The same law that turned me into a monster? Too little and too much for everyone all at the same time? The same law that drove human beings off of their lands and into reservations? That killed thousands of people like me?”

“The criminal law would have placed Larson in jail. Like he deserved.”

John scoffed and crossed his arms. “You think the law cares that he deserves it, Arthur? The law is punishment for those who don’t deserve it and ignorance for those who do. There’s no justice in it.”

“What, so that means it’s your job to deal it out?”

“Yes!” John yelled. “If it means he can’t hurt anyone any longer, then yes. And vigilante justice works a hell of a lot faster than the court system will ever manage!”

“I thought you were trying to be a better man, John.”

“I was trying to be like you,” John said venomously. “My mistake.”

That was the final straw. Arthur took a step forward without warning and swung his fist as hard as he could. It made contact with John’s ribs (he could feel them shift beneath Arthur’s fist), and John made a soft oof sound as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and he was knocked into the fireplace mantle, the corner of it digging into his shoulder. 

The fight that followed was chaotic and messy in a way John had never experienced before, and when he tried to think back to it, it would only be preserved in blurry snapshots, like someone moving in the middle of a photograph. Arthur grabbed John’s braid and pulled. John clawed a deep gouge into his arm. He drew blood. Arthur twisted John’s arm. John cracked Arthur’s rib. Arthur knocked John’s legs out from under him, causing them both to go sprawling onto the floor. Arthur punched. John slapped. Arthur bit. John pinned. And then paused. And then…

In the midst of the fighting, John had ended up on top of Arthur, straddling his waist while pinning both wrists with one hand and grabbing a fistfull of Arthur’s shirt with the other. Both of them had frozen, the only movement the rapid rise and fall of their chests. Their noses were nearly touching, and John could feel Arthur’s breath fanning across his lips, staring into those dark, dark eyes. They weren’t so dark, John realized as he looked into them. They were brown, lovely and warm, with scattered flecks of gold and green nestled deep inside. Hidden gems, wide and wild with adrenaline, flicking back and forth across John’s face without any point of focus.

John’s eyes flicked over the rest of Arthur’s face. Freckles smattered across his nose and cheekbones. Loose strands of auburn hair falling messily across his forehead. The crooked corners of his nose from being broken one too many times. Smile lines beside his tired eyes. Lips like flower petals, soft and pale. Slightly parted and inhaling, exhaling. At some point, John realized he had let go of Arthur’s shirt and was cradling Arthur’s face oh-so gently as he examined it, dragging his thumb lightly over his cheekbone, caressing it. Down the bridge of his nose to his lips, his perfect lips. Arthur remained as still as stone, barely even breathing as he stared blindly back at John.

Somewhere behind the haze of the moment, John wondered subconsciously what would happen if he kissed Arthur. Because, the truth, he realized, was that deep down, in the pit of his stomach, he wanted. He wanted Arthur, in a way he had never wanted anyone else before. He wanted to be close to him, close like this. Closer than this. To be around him always, to hold him, to kiss him. 

What would happen if he took what he wanted instead of what he was told, for once?

He hesitated when he heard Arthur’s breath hitch.But then, when no resistance came, he leaned his head down ever so slightly (there was barely any bridge to gap, by that point), and then he was kissing Arthur. And it was like the world had been set ablaze.

As he pressed his lips against Arthur’s, every nerve in John’s body was alive. It felt like a jolt from a live wire, like a burst of fireworks that would light up the sky on the Fourth of July, like the sparking tang of gunpowder before the shot rang out. It felt like energy, pure and bright and hot and lighting him up from the inside. He felt Arthur’s body respond in kind, arching up to create a line of contact that started at their hands and continued all the way down to their tangled legs, making John shiver. He tasted like whiskey, sweet and sharp beneath the campfire smoke and aftershave, and John marveled at how such a strange and sinful combination could taste like it had just come down from heaven.

He kissed harder, chasing the taste. He nipped at Arthur’s lip hard enough to draw blood, adding a coppery tang to the kiss and eliciting a small moan from the back of Arthur’s throat. It only made John want more. He kissed him again, and again, and again, Arthur’s lips and tongue moving against his with a practiced skill that made John dizzy. He kissed him until his lips were swollen and his head was swimming with nothing but Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. He only pulled away when his chest was burning and there was no choice but to come up for air.

Arthur’s face was flushed, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh God.” His voice was hoarse. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, John.”

And an unbidden memory surfaced in John’s mind. 

He was back in boarding school, sitting for a mandatory midnight mass in the chapel, his posture ramrod straight. The priests had always been so particular about those masses. There was to be no slouching or fidgeting, and God alone could help you if you dozed off. John had been kneeing in one of the pews, focusing all of his attention on keeping his posture perfect and his eyes open and remaining somewhat alert. 

In the midst of silent prayer, one of the priests, a Father McKenna, had thrown open the doors to the chapel, and dragged another boy up before the altar by his ear. 

The boy had tears streaming down his disheveled face and his nose was red from crying, but the thing that struck John the most about him were his eyes. He just looked so… tired. Not the kind of tired that John was fighting, the kind where a seductive sleep was lingering at the corners of his vision, waiting for him to blink or close his eyes in “prayer” for a second too long. This boy looked like the kind of tired that shot through his bones and grew like rot and rust with every passing day, the kind that only shuffling off this mortal coil a bit too soon could cure.

Father McKenna said the boy had been caught ‘with’ another, with a fury in his eyes that made John wonder in the back of his mind if he had been possessed by the devil. He’d been too young to know what it meant to be ‘with’ another boy at the time, but he knew it must be evil. Father McKenna threw him down in front of the altar, and the boy- John vaguely recognized him to be a child named Alexander- just knelt with his head bowed, like he had accepted his fate before Fate came to dole it out.

Father McKenna was not pleased by this. He smacked the back of Alexander’s head. Hard. He didn’t respond. He picked up a hymnal and smacked him harder still. And still, nothing. 

The priest was trembling with barely concealed fury now, and there was a steady pit of dread opening up in John’s stomach as he began to eye the doors, the windows. Any potential escape from the devil and the punishment that awaited him.

But there was no escape, there never was. So John sat, quietly, and watched as Father McKenna began to beat Alexander.

It was horrible, but somehow John couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even as Alexander’s screams tore through his ears and began to echo off the vaulted ceilings, pleas to stop and promises to never do it again ringing in John’s mind. Not even as the boy’s blood began to stain Father McKenna’s hands and drip onto the marble stairs, as vivid and crimson as sacramental wine. Not even as two of the altar boys had to drag Alexander’s barely conscious, barely breathing body down the aisle and out to the hospital wing.

John was trembling by the end of it. He felt like he was going to throw up. He dreamed of that moment for weeks afterward, never able to sleep without witnessing another religious sacrifice, another crucifixion, another martyr behind his eyelids.

Suddenly back in the present– but not really, never fully out of the past– John scrambled back off of Arthur and pressed his back against a wall, wide-eyed and sweating in sudden, sickening fear. In another life he might have missed the feeling of Arthur beneath him, his waist between his thighs, his lips against his. But nothing could permeate that fear. Nothing would ever be bigger than the fear.

“Wha– John?” Arthur asked. There was fear in his eyes too, but it was different. It wasn’t fear of hell or Father McKenna or whatever had become of Alexander. It was fear for John. It was concern. John closed his eyes against it. “John, what’s wrong? What–,” “Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just, be quiet!” John snapped. “Please, please, just–,” his voice broke. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to stave off an oncoming headache. 

“Okay…” Arthur said, quietly. Gently, so cruelly gentle. John could feel the beginnings of tears burning behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut tighter. “Okay.”

“This…” John started. He didn’t want to say it. He knew there would be no coming back from it. No more fireworks, no more whiskey on flower petal lips. Never again would he be so close to Arthur Lester if he said it. But that was the point wasn’t it? Make distance.

Take what he was told, never what he wanted.

“This was a mistake,” John said, firmly. A lie, of course. Inside, his very soul was shaking. The strings of his heart were trembling in a tragic vibrato, a song with no recipient. But he’d always been good at lying. He stood, tossing his braid over his shoulder and brushing the dust of his shirt (his wrinkled shirt, stained with a speck of Arthur’s blood). “It never happened.” He didn’t look at Arthur, because he was a coward. He was everything Arthur thought he was, so he didn’t look him in the eye when he said:

“If you ever so much as mention this, to anyone, I won’t hesitate, Arthur.”

He opened the door to the cabin, ready to step outside, leaving everything he’d never known he’d wanted behind. 

“I’m not you.”

[creamyavocadosoup]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

a/n: lowercase intended! been in an anime binge lately and am currently watching horimiya. its great honestly, it makes me feel so mushy bc me when !! but also i can kinda relate. sorry this wasnt proofread! if there are any mistakes lmk ;-;

characters: rtte!hiccup x fem!reader

tags: kinda angsty, unrequited (?) pining, intimate touches and moment (nothing nsfw)

word count: 1.5k

if you missed it, here's part one: can i be her?

the road to recovery was slow, and the mending of hiccup and i's relationship even slower. although i had forgiven him, there was an undeniable shift in how i acted towards him, whether it was intentional or not.

i had felt guilty about it, of course, but i couldn't force myself to go back to the way things were and pretend nothing had happened. even more so when i could tell that hiccup and the other riders picked up on it too.

after that incident however, something else had also changed. as subtle as it was (or tried to be), hiccup had begun doing things out of his own volition. small things like the soil in my garden being damp when i wake up, my medicine cabinets tidied and arranged how i liked it after a nap, or even my hut being spick and span, a still-hot plate of food awaiting me on my bedside table when i wake up.

it was strange to be on the receiving end of such actions. i had gotten used to helping the riders more than i had received it in return. so having hiccup do so much for me just because, induced emotions in me that i'm still quite unsure in how to handle.

today was spent patching up the riders after a grueling training session and a few accidents (mostly snotlout) and we make conversation as they tell me the new things they've discovered when they went adventuring a few days ago.

my huge cut had - thankfully - been steadily healing, the riders taking turns in making sure i wasn't doing tasks i wasn't supposed to. a few weeks since the incident and i could finally start walking around my hut with much, much caution.

taking this opportune moment of reprieve, i'm currently sat at my front porch, admiring the view of the sea and horizon off in the distance. i sipped quietly on my drink while wrapped in a blanket, the birds chirping and soft swaying of the trees my only company.

...that is until strong gusts of wind caused by a familiar midnight black dragon landed on my front yard, along with his ever-familiar rider in tow.

"[name]! i come bearing new entries to my journal, along with snacks of course."

right. ever since my injury, hiccup had made it some sort of tradition to come and talk to me about things he discovered while out on adventures or simply reading up and researching on subjects he thinks would interest me.

he reasoned it as him hoping i wouldn't feel too lonely even though the other riders visiting routinely (which i soon figured out was coordinated by hiccup thanks to a slip of the tongue from tuffnut) had given me plenty of company since then.

hiccup took his seat beside me on the porch swing, making himself comfortable. offering the other half of my blanket and he takes it with a smile, scooting closer to me.

initially, i seemingly wasn't quite receptive of this tradition he had started; lack of responses, barely any indication that i was interested in whatever he was talking about. but the dragon rider hadn't exactly let it affect him whatsoever. he continued coming regularly, and talking enough for the both of us.

"hiccup." i spoke, softly and quite mellow, but it had stopped his rant completely as he turned to look at me.

i raised my head to look back at him, my eyes slowly dragging over his features. sweat beaded faintly across his brows as he also searched my face of any indication of emotion. he gulped, the action quite apparent, "yes?"

"are you doing all this because you feel guilty?" i questioned, my voice devoid of any accusatory tone, yet it made him flinch slightly in his seat. "if you are, then you shouldn't be, because i already forgive you."

he pursed his lips and brows furrowed as he continued to keep his eyes on me, clearly displeased despite my words. i felt a warmth slowly settle on my hand, looking down to find his hand grabbing onto mine.

my heart beat quickened, a soft yet steady heat creeping up onto my cheeks. for a moment, it had felt like we were suspended in time, the universe letting us have this moment that we've needed.

"even if you have forgiven me," he paused, his body turning to me and gripping my hand tighter, "i can't." he whispered, a soft tremble in his voice as i watched his eyes gloss over.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he almost weeps, his voice crackly and tears turning his eyes glossy. "i shouldn't have talked to you like that. been so - so caught up in my emotion that i just had zero regard for how you were feeling to how i was saying it." his voice shakes slightly, and my heart crumpled at the emotion.

gently setting aside my drink, i reached to hold his hands with both of mine, softly rubbing my thumb along the natural contours of the back of it. my throat felt tight, that same burning feeling in my eyes coming back, but i steeled myself and my voice to be able to say what i needed to.

"hiccup.. i understand, i really do." my voice had felt so fragile, like glass, about to break if more pressure is applied to it. "in the time i've spent by myself these past few weeks, i've come to a certain understanding and acceptance to the situation. and it's okay," i squeezed his hands, "i'm okay."

he subtly shakes his head no, one of his hands breaking free from mine and drifting to my wounded abdomen, past the hem and underneath my shirt. hiccup was quiet but his touch spoke more than his words tried to convey. my breath hitched at the action as he continued with his ministrations, yet his expression more spaced-out. i'm not sure what it was exactly, but i could tell he was heavily contemplating something in his head.

despite the gauze barrier, i could feel the heat of him emanating through it. it allowed that familiar warmth to bloom in my chest once again, the same warmth that only he seems to be the cause of. it had felt entirely too intimate to consider it as something friends do which only raised so many more questions and confusion in my head.

this wasn't normal for friends, right? is this something he normally does with the others?

i gulped down the lump in my throat, the thought of him doing the same thing to a certain blonde-haired viking setting an uncomfortable feeling in my gut.

before i could voice out any of my thoughts however, my eyes widened and cheeks warmed considerably once i felt his touch travel to my cheek. it was soft, almost feather-like, and comforting. his eyes glowed beautifully, the orange sunset reflecting onto his green eyes, effectively enchanting me with how beautiful it looked.

he kept his eyes on me, seemingly waiting on a sign on how i felt about the current predicament. seeing no protests from me, he continued on, now essentially cupping my face with both of his hands, his piercing eyes never leaving my face, flitting between my eyes and lips.

"hiccup..."

"hiccup!" a familiar voice cut through the silence and the trees, dispelling the intimate moment in an instant. i hurriedly moved away from his clutches, picking up my forgotten drink, as hiccup nervously fixes his hair and clothes.

astrid appears on the path in front of my hut, lax features and usual demeanor indicating that she didn't see whatever just happened between hiccup and i. "there you are. figured you would be here." she spoke, walking closer towards my porch.

hiccup laughed, notably a little more breathless than when he normally is, yet astrid doesn't bat an eye or pick up on it. admittedly, i spaced out as she rambled on, the scene before still playing over and over in my head.

hiccup's soft touches was still practically branded onto my skin, with how i could still feel the heat of his touch despite him being on the other side of the seat we were on. his actions had only made me more confused, swirling thoughts trying to reason why he did what he did yet none of them made sense.

what was that? was he...

i shook away the thoughts as i come back to consciousness back in time. "[name], i hope you don't mind that i'll be taking this guy with me for a little bit. i need his help on a few things regarding training." she spoke.

i nodded, plastering a small smile on my face but i turn to look at hiccup, silently torn on wanting him to go or letting him leave. his gaze was on me, searching my face but perhaps my features weren't translating my desire well, because he turns to astrid and smiles, "we can go, we were just finishing up anyways."

my heart cracks just a tiny bit, that same feeling that i felt a few weeks ago leaking through the cracks of my resolve little by little. but i force the smile back on my face, standing up to bring my drink back inside, the atmosphere now leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

they gather their things and leave side-by-side, and i also turn and huddle back into my hut, missing the longing look hiccup held to my disappearing figure.

DO NOT REPOST MY CONTENT ANYWHERE! i would love to hear any and all thoughts. mwah! have a great day!

quick access to my library.

[everythingmp3]

pretty stranger

adult!Van x fem!reader

it’s the middle of the night and you find yourself in some trouble. lucky for you, someone who finds you is feeling generous. what starts out as politeness and concern, quickly turns into something else.

authors note: I am back with more adult Van bc I missed her <3 this one is a bit longer again (around 5k) - I wrote it spontaneously and ended up having fun with it, so I hope you enjoy!

warnings : intoxication, brief mentions of injury, smut (reader giving), minors dni

it was around 11 pm. you were outside of the club. and you were bleeding.

on your way up the stairs of the venue, youd taken an unelegant stumble and fallen down, scraping your right forearm pretty badly. you couldn’t be bothered to go all the way back down to go and try and get a paper towel to clean your wound with, so you stood outside by the wall and tried to figure out what to do about it. you were cursing under your breath and trying to gauge how bad the injury actually was, so you didn’t notice that someone was approaching you.

to your luck, Van, who lived a few houses down from the club, was on her way home from a late night trip to the bodega around the corner, when she walked down the street and saw you. she wasnt usually the type to initiate conversations with strangers, unless they were customers, but when she saw that you were entirely on your own and wounded, she couldn’t just pass you by. “hey, you okay there?” you heard her ask and snapped your head around, only then realizing how drunk you were. you weren’t black out by any means but the sudden movement made you feel sick for a moment.

“oh, yeah, it’s fine, it’s just.. do you have a tissue or something by chance?” you asked. she stepped closer and took a look at your arm, a sympathetic look on her face, which you noticed was very striking: her freckled cheeks pink from the cold, a few scars that gave her an edge, a nice contrast. “no sorry, I don’t. but that looks painful, I’m sorry.” she paused for a second, before adding “I mean… I live literally right over there, so if you want you could clean that up and I could give you a band-aid”.

“oh, okay yeah! that’s really nice of you, thank you”you were overly grateful to her, perhaps because you were slightly out of it and hadn’t had the best night and felt like she was kind of a guardian angel in that moment. Van noticed it and waved it off, a smile “oh it’s fine, really, come on”.

you almost fell over again when you started walking too fast, which made Van laugh and rush back over to you. “okay hold up, easy there, no need to add any more scratches” she held out her arm for you to hold onto, which you did, gladly, gripping the soft material of her jacket.

“god...” you sighed, shaking your head, a bit embarrassed as she led you down the street. “not to be judgy but how many drinks did you have exactly?”. she asked, looking at you, trying to get a good read on your level of intoxication, a hint of a grin.

“I don’t know..” you admitted, which made her laugh. “okay damn, so you lost count?”, “something like that. finsihed the half empty ones of friends all night". "and where are they? why aren’t they with you?" she asked, a bit concerned by the idea of you hanging around people whod let you go home like that on your own.

"oh, I lost them. couldn’t find any of them after a while, so I decided to leave. wasn’t my kind of place anyway.." Van nodded, wondering if she was reading the subtext there right, because she knew that that bar on her block was about as far from a gay bar as a venue could be; she usually only saw frat and sorrorrity tpyes your age hanging around outside at night, so you were a surprise. "how are you gonna get home?" Van asked while unlocking the door to her store.

"uh, the train, I live kinda far from here". she motioned for you to go in ahead of her and closed the door behind you. "huh? in the middle of the night in this state? no way. sorry but I will call you an Uber or something, there’s no way I am letting you do that."

you smiled then, it was sweet, for a stranger to be that concerned. "okay, yeah. that’s wiser probably" you admitted, while registering your surroundings, she lead you through her dark store. "what’s all this?" you asked, unsure what you were looking at. "uh, a video store, for the most part" she said, plainly, aware that it might invite ridicule but to her relief you just said, "cool" and kept following her.

"okay, I am sorry, but we have to walk up some stairs. I will go behind you, go slowly" she instructed. "I won’t fall, I promise" you said "I already feel better". she was skeptical, "we’ll see about that."

you took the first few steps and felt a sudden rush of heat when Van placed her hand on your lower back to steady you on your walk up, unsure if she would have done that for just anyone or if she might feel some type of way about you. your physique.

you almost walked slower on purpose to have her touch you for longer.

when you were upstairs, she turned on the light and said "okay, so, you go on and sit down on the couch, I will get the stuff we need" before disappearing into the bathroom.

you were still slightly dizzy but lucid enough to take a good look around her living room and open kitchen, a coziness to it that soothed you, felt inviting. once you sat down on the couch, you realized that you were inside the home of a woman who was clearly gay and also clearly your type, so you told yourself to get a grip and sit more upright, to look as normal and appealing as possible.

Van returned a moment after and sat down next to you, asking you to hold out your arm and keep it still. "this might hurt like hell so feel free to grip my shoulder or whatever". you’d take any excuse to touch her, so you did, holding onto her, as she used a wetted tissue to clean your wound a bit before deliberately placing a bandaid over it, smoothing it out, taking a good look at it, before she said "alright. done. easy. you didn’t even wince, youre a tough one huh?" she praised, as she got up to throw away the tissue, which made you feel blood rush to your face. "sure, or you’re just good at that" you said, a bit bold from the state of half-drunkenness that you were still in, which made her smile. her back turned to you, so you weren’t aware.

Van took a can of soda from the fridge and popped it open, so she could hand it to you once she sat back down again. you felt spoiled in a way, being treated that nicely for no reason. or maybe, there was a reason.

you drank a good amount and put it down on the coffee table after, letting out a deep shuddering breath and leaning back against the cushions. Van was watching you intently, her head resting on her hand, her arm propped up on her side of the couch.

"yeah you should sober up a bit before going back outside I think" she mused, smiling at you. you looked at her then, "well I don’t wanna keep you up. surely having some sloppy drunk girl sitting on your couch wasnt your plan for the night".

that made her laugh, "oh it’s okay, I don’t mind a surprise, my week wasn’t very eventful". you had a feeling that she didn’t want you to leave too soon. that you werent alone in your feeling of intrigue, so you shifted your body a bit to look at her more directly, to challenge her in a way, her deep blue eyes never moving away from yours.

"so, a video store? how’s that?" you asked, trying to figure her out. "well" she said, considering it, staring off into the distance before responding "bad for my bank account." which made you laugh.

"oh, right, so should I paypal you for this maybe?" you asked, gesturing at your arm and the drink on the table, which made her give you a look that said “oh okay, you’re not shy, are you?” impressed by the boldness of your teasing. "well you don’t exactly strike me as rich either, so. keep it" Van teased back, which you liked, her joining on it, opening the door to more of the same vibe.

"maybe I should come back here sometime during the day, to see if you have some of my favorites. if you actually have good taste" you said, grinning, leaning your head back for a moment, still not breaking eye contact, which was getting to her, your mix of sweetness and audacity. Van nodded, eyeing you for a second before answering "sure, feel free to do that." unwilling to admit that she hoped you werent joking. that youd actually show up.

there was a shared silence then, until you sat more upright again and looked at her more intensely. "you’re very pretty." you said, quiet, earnest, hitting her with a sudden open flirting that she wasnt expecting.

Van tried to act unfazed, tried to keep it from going there, but she was blushing. she shook her head "I don’t think you should be trusting your vision right now".

you disagreed, still staring at her, your eyes roaming over her facial features in a way that made her shift her posture, trying to put up a tough front. failing to do so.

"I am tipsy, not blind. your lips wouldn’t look any different if I was sober". it was shameless, you mentioning a specific part of her, amditting that that was what you were focused on: her mouth.

Van stared at you with a mix of shock and intrigue. "okay. easy."

she tried to act like she wanted you to back off. but her body betrayed her. she didn’t move away one inch when you moved closer to her and put your hand on her thigh. you were bolder than usual, you knew this, and it felt good, to go for what you wanted. to see someone react that strongly. you were shoulder to shoulder with her then, thigh to thigh, close enough to feel her body warmth.

"do you wanna kiss me?" you asked, yet another hit at her soft spot for women who took initiative. it was wild to her that someone half her age wasn’t waiting for her to make a move but making one on her. it was turning her on. as much as she wished it didn’t.

"doesn’t matter what I want, you’re too young." she said, pleading with you in a way as she felt you move your hand up to her neck.

"yes or no?" you asked, ignoring her remark, close enough for her to feel your breath hot against her lips then, her ability for restraint leaving her more and more each second she felt you that close. a burn where your fingers lingered on her skin.

"are you interrogating me?" she asked, messing up and looking at your lips. you waited. didn’t answer. sensing that she was close to giving in.

"should I stop?" you asked, giving her a chance to end it if she really wanted to, because you’d have backed off at the sound of a "yes" but it wouldn’t come. you both knew.

she looked back up at your eyes then. she was done being the weaker link, so she played your game too and touched your cheek. it made you melt immediately. she had you. good. so, Van used the moment to catch you off guard and leaned in to kiss you. a sudden moan from you because she went into it full force, a deep, heartfelt kiss, no warming up, no pulling away and waiting for a response, an immediate fire to it.

you had no issue matching her energy, at all, you pushed your hands into her hair and pulled her face closer, as close as possible, to deepen the kiss, both of you moving to be entwined, her leg between yours, a low sound stuck in her throat as you touched tongues, started making out with abandon.

there was a delicious, surreal feeling to it, due to the leftover effect of the drinks, that glowing, intense euphoria that was easily achieved during a drunken night.

Van was almost shocked by how desperately you kissed and kissed and kissed her, seemingly obsessed with her, pushing her back against the couch after a while, pressing your chest against hers as your hips involuntarily jerked forward, a shared echo of sighs and whines as you kept kissing, her hands under your shirt then, a thrill, her palms on your bare skin, holding you.

you moved to kiss her neck then, unaware that that was her weak spot, but quickly figuring it out when she let out a pathetic "god..." as you left kisses all along her pulsepoint, keeping her in place as you were all over her and lost yourself in the sensation of her skin, the scent, the feeling, the taste. it was enough to make you abandon caution and suck on a spot before biting down lightly, which made her scratch your back in response.

"you’re killing me..." she breathed, clearly glad to be losing her mind, a smirk on your face when you pulled away and stared at her, your lips swollen, hers parted from the heavy breathing, her hands moving from your back to grip your thighs through the fabric of your pants.

you looked at her, drank in the beautiful sight of her all disheveled and flushed, before you leaned in to whisper to her "can we do more than just kiss? please".

she shook her head, caressing your legs absentmindedly. "no, I can’t, you’re not sober, you’re half my age, I won’t do anything to you. not like this." you realized then that she wasnt reading you right. you smiled, trailing your hand down the front of her shirt.

"that’s not an issue. you can just lean back and look pretty. let me take care of it". Van nearly blacked out then. "what?" she wasn’t sure if she was hearing you right. if she was imagining it all. you nodded and breathed against her cheek as you whispered "I wanna taste you", radiating want, "please. let me repay you for being sweet to me."

that got her good. she closed her eyes and tried to appear somewhat composed but you were a dream come true for her. she could tell that you actually wanted to do it. that you werent just talking a big game. but she still felt guilty in a way. felt undeserving. you could sense the hesitation, so you moved off from her and got down onto the floor.

she let out a confused "what-" before she saw what you were doing: you were showing her how you looked on your knees. you parted her still clothed legs and got between them. rested your cheek against one of them, staring up at her all doe-eyed, while stroking the other leg up and down. you were going in for the kill and she was done for.

Van leaned forward then and held your face in her hands, staring into your soul, violently turned on from the view of your kneeling like that for her, your pretty face looking up at her, signaling surrender.

you almost purred as you felt her fingers move into your hair. ��you sure?” she asked, her voice hoarse, deep, achingly attractive. you felt it at your core. "yes. I’m dying for it." you reassured her, dramatic but true, you were almost whining from how badly you wanted to hear her moan for you, so she finally gave in and pulled down her jeans.

you helped her with her underwear, impatient, ripping it down for her, kissing her knee after, kissing all the way up her inner thigh while she tired to sit back and relax, tried to stop shaking. but you could feel it, that tremor of anticipation, so you were gentle, taking your time with it, covering both of her smooth inner thighs in kisses and licks, squeezing the soft flesh right below her hips at the same time, getting her worked up, hearing her sigh before you even got a taste of her.

eventually, she whined "please..." which made you stop what you were doing and move up to kiss her where she wanted you, a shudder as you did, her hands back in your hair as you felt how wet she’d gotten, a moan from you as you ran your tongue over her.

Van tried hard to not be pathetic, but the first few seconds of feeling slow strokes of your tongue on her aching core were enough to make her shift a little while starting to moan, which pushed you to hold her in place, to pick up the pace and make it sloppier, deeper, your face fully buried in her then, her cum all over your lips as you started savoring the taste and got into it, eagerly moving your tongue faster, pushing yourself further into her, eager to be smothered, an almost pained "fuck" as her head fell back against the cushion and her back arched up a little.

you wanted her to fuck your face, to use you, so you were glad to feel her move her hips rather aggressively, to feel her push your head as close as possible, to have her riding your tongue in a way, as you grew soaking wet yourself from the sounds she was making, high-pitched cries of pleasure that sounded angelic to you.

it pushed you to eat her out as passionately as you could, signaling to her that you were obsessed with her, because you were, even though you’d just met; she felt like heaven, her thighs warm against the sides of your face, her fingers tight in your hair as she tugged at it, her taste immediately addictive to you, which she could tell: Van was overwhelmed by how hard you were going, how genuine and serious your attempt at pleasing her was, it wasn’t what shed expected from you, at all, that you were better half-drunk than some of her other lovers stone cold sober.

she had no idea what she’d gotten herself into, had no idea how to process the feeling of unexpected intense lust, you could tell as you felt her unravelling and growing more and more erratic from your touch, a certain erotic thrill at having this hot, seemingly tough older woman helplessly moan and squirm form what you were doing to her, for her.

"I don’t want this to be a one time thing" you thought, as you sucked her clit and heard her groan "jesus..." while her head fell back even further and she braced herself for the impending release, her hands not on you but grabbing the couch then, hard, knuckles white. it was pure bliss, to have her react to every little thing that audibly, she was sensitive in the best way.

you could tell she wouldn’t last long, so you focused solely on her most senstivie spot to really push her, to make it intense and feel her come undone for you, your jaw aching lightly, a pleasant kind of pain, as you held her legs apart for her and heard her cries become more breathless, coming in faster intervals, so you gripped her thighs hard and let her decide when she was done, which was immediately after you tightened your grip, like she was only waiting to get the okay.

her hands were back on you then, to keep your right where you were, as she came against your mouth, slicking up your whole mouth even further, a pleased hum from you as you let her do whatever she wanted to you, let her ride it out, stayed in place and listened to her, your eyes closed, your underwear a mess, your whole body buzzing, burning up.

she took a good two minutes to really get every last shock of her climax out of her system and to calm down again, so you went back to kissing her inner thighs and let her come back to her senses while being sweet to her, obediently on your knees for her until she eventually found her voice again, tapped you on the shoulder and said "come here".

you got up then, a bit shaky, from the booze and the strain of kneeling, and got down on the couch next to her. she pulled up her underwear and jeans again, unwilling to be that exposed for too long and leaned back again, while you just sat there next to her and smiled, waiting a second before leaning in and giving her a kiss, perverse, her cum still on your lips, a deep sigh as she felt you warm against her mouth.

"you taste really good" you whispered after you pulled away and wiped your mouth, grinning afterwards, your hand on her shoulder, as she finally turned to look at you, shaking her head, a tired smile. "you are.. " she didnt have the words.

"what am I?" you asked, cocking your head, a prideful sparkle in your eyes as you pulled your legs up onto the couch and sat there all cute like you didnt just wreck her. she reached out and caressed your cheek then.

"where the fuck did you come from, I feel like I lost my mind and made you up or something." a quiet laugh, which made you blush and shrug.

“do you prefer receiving?" you asked, curious, she nodded "yeah, kind of". "well you’re doing the rest of us a favor, you sound hot" she slapped your arm then "okay, stop." which made you smile to yourself.

she glanced over at the clock on the wall and realized how late it was. "oh fuck." you nodded, "oh yeah, uh, I will leave you be now."

Van grabbed your arm then, the uninjured one, and shook her head, suddenly very alert. "no. I mean, fuck Uber and the train, I can just drive you, it’s no big deal, really. I mean... it’s the least I can do." the implication was amusing to you, that she was indebetted to you for giving her head.

"alright. thank you. that’s nice." Van got up from the couch and put on her jacket while waiting for you to the same, going ahead of you on the stairs to yet again prevent you from taking a lethal tumble.

during your walk to her car, you both fell into a nice back and forth, asking each other more questions, joking about every other sentence, laughing together while the freezing night air made you both clutch your jackets and walk with your arms crossed and your posture hunched.

you both had an afterglow about you, it wouldnt have been hard for anyone to tell that you’d just fucked if theyd taken a proper look at you. you both enjoyed it, the chemistry you had after just about an hour of knowing each other. you agreed with, it did seem like a fever dream when you looked at her, the way her pretty hair blew in the wind, the way she looked when only a few streetlamps illuminated her face, how her voice sounded after wearing it out with pleasure.

you kept stealing glances until you both got into her car and rubbed your hands together to warm up as she turned on the engine and put on the radio.

the drive wasn’t that long afterall, since it was nighttime and the streets werent full, so ten minutes after getting on the road, you spotted your house and told her "right there."

once she stopped the car, neither of you spoke at first, because neither of you wanted to go separate ways. you got an idea then.

"okay, before I go-" you said, reaching down into the back pocket of your jeans to pull out your phone and unlock it, leaving it open on the contacts app, while holding it out for Van to take. she didnt comply at first, she just looked at you and raised her eyebrows, clearly aware what you were asking her to do but unwilling to make it that easy.

"why do you want my number?" she asked, acting clueless, being a tease. you rolled your eyes because she was clearly trying to get you to stroke her ego a little by saying something like "because I wanna see you again" or “because I really like you”, which was obviously true, but instead you just said "oh, so I can send you nudes,of course. tons and tons of them.", your tone dripping in irony.

Van shook her head and let out a scoff, pretending to be disgusted but secretly enjoying it, that you were such a natural match for her, that you weren’t shy around her, at all, no matter what she did or said.

"okay, very funny. go on, give me that" she uttered and snatched your phone from your hand to do what you wanted her to, a triumphant smile on your face as you watched her type in her number.

she handed it back to you a few seconds after and eyed you curiously, staring at you in the dark with a mix of disbelief bewilderment in her expression.

"sorry but I still can’t believe you wanted me that badly" she said, apparently not used to it, being that openly lusted after by younger women, her mind still stuck on how you’d begged to taste her, still turned on by it and you clocked it, so you said "wanted? why the past tense?", while giving her a sweet look while reaching over for her hand, so you could lace your fingers through hers, to feel her skin against yours again.

she laughed, quietly, her fingers tightening around yours, allowing the romantic gesture, "jesus christ.." she whispered to herself, unable to act nonchalant around you. "you’re fucking good, you know. can’t remember the last time someone actually got through to me like this" she said, stroking your hand with her thumb, eliciting an enamored look in her direction.

"so, you’re kind of a loner then?" you asked, keeping your gaze fixed on her side profile until she turned back to look at you again. a nod, "yeah".

you squeezed her hand then, "well, sorry but I kinda have to ruin that for you then, I guess", she laughed, amused by the faux-apology, glad you were implying that you wanted to actually spend more time with her. "I’ll get over it, dont worry".

you both looked at each other for a second, enjoying the quiet and privacy, the feeling of being hidden away in this strangely tender intimacy youd stumbled into, out of nowhere.

you wanted to kiss her again, so you did, letting go of her hand to grab her face while leaning over, her fingers in your hair the moment you touched lips, a pleased sigh from her as she gave in and kissed you back. you made out for a minute or so, while you almost climbed onto her lap because it was torture to kiss without properly touching her, grabbing her, a smile against your lips when she felt you move, trying to bridge the distance between your seats, so she helped you out and your face with both hands to really make you feel close to her, and it worked, you eased up and melted into it .

you loved the way Van kissed because she was a sensual kisser, she clearly liked it to be slow and heartfelt, which was dangerous because it felt the way kissing did before having sex, intense and charged, lingering, deep kisses to draw out every little sensation, a brief bite to your lower lip.

eventually, you both let go and smiled, content, flushed, aware that your bodies were naturally in tune, that it would have led to more if you´d kissed like that on her bed or yours. the heavy breathing almost fogged up the car windows, so she pulled hers down while you sat back in your seat again.

"okay, I should go now but what about Saturday night? are you free then?" you asked, hopeful, breaking the silence.

Van was still bright red, a nervous clearing of her throat before she said "well, I am free pretty much any night, sweetheart" her tone raspy and low. the honesty and sudden use of a pet name made you warm up to her even more.

you nodded, pleased, "okay perfect! we could get dinner if you want". Van looked at you, her head cocked, a sparkle in her eyes, even in the dark of the night. "you’re really getting this all planned out before even texting me, huh?" she said, enjoying the feeling of being pursued.

"yeah, sorry, guess I am a bit eager..." you said, folding your hands in your lap, a shyness to your demeanor then, which Van had to make use of. "that’s an understatement, I think" she teased, lightly squeezing your knee, invoking your previous action, smiling at you, daring you to make eye contact without blushing.

you shrugged, wishing she’d let her hand linger on your leg for a bit longer. "what can I say. yo’re very much my tpye. so, I think it’s wise to be quick, before someone else gets in the way".

she was flattered but shook her head. "oh don’t worry, your competition isn’t very strong".

"no?" you asked, amused by that, tilting your head, watching her fuss with her hair for a second, a pretty sight, her running her fingers through the lengths of it, you reached out for a second to feel it too, a pleased smile from her.

"no. if anything, I think I should be the one to worry about beating out competition." she whispered, trying to charm you, succeeding, yet again. you let your hand wander and touched her cheek, just for a second, nothing too intense, still, her eyes went wide, you could tell. her skin was achingly soft. you were already dreaming of getting more time with her, to really feel her, in her entirety, for longer than just a few minutes.

"no, there’s literally nobody" you said, clearly not bluffing, Van seemed relieved.

"hm, good for me then. but you know, feel free to text me and cancel the date if you wake up hungover tomorrow and regret all of this. fucking around with some old stranger" she half-joked, which made you shake your head pretty vehemently in disagreement.

“yeah, no way. I don’t get like this for just anyone. not to gas you up too much but I actually haven’t had sex in a while, this isn’t my style usually".

"no go on, please, feel free to tell me how special I am. I am all ears" she said, leaning closer to you, batting her eye-lashes theatrically. "or you know. you can send me an embarrassingly heartfelt super long message about how badly you wanna see me again tomorrow. that works too." she was obviously joking but you were up to it.

"okay, brace yourself, I will be fucking pathetic about it. I will write you a novel". she laughed, "please do".

you both could have stayed sitting there for a good while longer but eventually you said "okay, thank you for all of this." pointing at the part of your arm that had been patched up by her. "and you know, this too" pointing at your heart after, smiling at her, which made her push you out of the door "okay, stop playing with me and go".

she was embarrassed by how easy you had it with her, which only made you come onto her stronger. you laughed as you got out and waved goodbye "sleep well, Van". she called out "you too" before pulling the door closed behind you and watching you walk inside, only starting her engine once you’d safely done so.

thirty minutes later you were in bed, freshly showered and ready to pass out, but you couldn’t deny yourself the pleasure of sending Van a text that was just a single heart, to give her your number in return.

"sweet." she texted back, which made you laugh, the way she wouldnt let you fluster her, not even over text. a minute or so passed until she gave in and texted back the same heart and said "here you go. go to sleep now. and be careful not to sleep on your right side, your right arm".

that text felt like a text from a caring girlfriend. it made you fantasize about what shed be like as a steady presence in your life. made you smile as you turned off your phone and laid down, on the correct side.

even though you were exhausted, you had trouble falling asleep; for about an hour you just laid there and replayed what had happened from the moment you met Van til the moment you parted ways. you didn’t mind how tired youd be the next day. dreaming of her was worth losing sleep over.