#who do you think she could have ended up with?
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STICKY -p.js, s.jy-
pairingâ boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake
synopsis: The good looking neighbors never know when to shut up so instead they shut you up
genre: smut minors do not interact, boxer/boys next door au, p without plot
wc: 11.2k
-all warnings below cut-
warnings: profanity, kissing, sweat, mention of injuries, mention and scene of violence/fighting(boxing)
smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex (safety first), p in v, threesome, dom!jay, soft dom!jake, dirty talk, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral (f+m rec.), deep throating, praising, slight degradation, cum eating, usage of nicknames (babe, sweetheart, nasty girl, sweet girl)
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Groggily opening your eyes, the sleep that once engulfed you now faded away to the muffle loud ruckus. Your eyebrows knitted roughly before taking a look at the time before a deep sigh let your mouth.
Realizing and knowing your neighbors are not going to finish until the crack of dawnâlike always. Your chair screeched as you roughly stepped out of your apartment, walking over to apartment 512.
Rubbing your sore neck from the sleeping position you were awakened from,âDo they ever know when to be quiet?â You mumbled, your hands dragging down your face as you tried to ignore the evident loud grunts and sound of rubber colliding drawing closer with each step
At first, you thought having two good looking neighbors wouldâve been the best thing to ever happen in your life. Always trying to catch
a glimpse of them in the beginning until the loud ruckus began not even an hour after they moved in.
Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt that itâd just be every now and then while they get accustomed into the new apartment, but when it kept happening every single waking hour possible in the day, you began to grow agitated.
You donât know how many times youâve complained to them about the noise or how many times they promised to keep the noise down to a minimum as you promised to not file a noise complaint but they never filled their end of the bargain and youâre tired of it.
Banging roughly on their door, hoping they could hear it past the already loud noise in there and just to your luck, a few seconds later, there was no response.
As you continued to bang at the door, determined to not leave until they opened up, the door opened in a haste but it was too late for you to stop your hand. Suddenly mimicking the knocking motion on a hard chest, you yanked your hand away.
The male in front of you smirked, looking down at the pec you knocked on, âDonât think this one is going to answer, why donât you try the other one?â He rested his head against his leaning arm, the sweat trickling down his forehead down to his jaw, tracing it down during its way
Your eyebrows furrowed seeing the new face. This was not either of your neighbors.
âWhoâs at the door, Hoon?â You heard a breathless accented voice from inside the apartment and able to immediately recognize it from the sheer amount of times you heard it
âPromise to keep quietâ and âDidnât mean to be so loud babeâ
All empty lies from himâJake.
âDonât know but sheâs cuteâ The said Hoon chuckled as he stared at you, his eyes traveling up and down your figure drinking in your appearance
The small compliment managed to tickle your brain as you tried to stop the heating from fully reaching your cheeks. âWhatâs your name?â The male leaned his head to level with yours but before you could comprehend a plausible answer, he was pulled away and there you saw the familiar face
Sharp jawline, piercing eyes, ruffled hair with a freshly new undercut drenched in sweat. The bulging biceps from the clinging tank top where you could outline every dip and crevice on his sculpture body.
âJayâ You squeaked out causing a light smirk to form on his face as he ushered his friend Hoon away from the door but not before he shot a wink towards your way waving out his thumb and pinky close to his ear, mouthing the words call me
âSorry about⌠Just ignore himâ Jay panted out, using the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat hanging from his chin
You gulped trying to keep your eyes leveled with his and to not look at the clear muscle definition sticking out with his every movement.
âHeâs the least of my concern right nowâ You mumbled, which in fact was true, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt before clearing your throat, âHow many times do I have to tell you guys to keep it down?â
âSorry about that sweetheart-â
âIâve told you and Jake to stop calling me those namesâ You huffed out causing Jay to chuckle using his fingers to brush away the hair sticking to his skin showcasing his sweat filled face
Your eyes looked over and saw a scratch on his forehead that was covered before. âIt was a rough matchâ Jay spoke noticing your interest on the cut, âBut don't worry, I wonâ He pumped his pride filled chest out, a side smile appearing on his face
âI-I didnât- I donât careâ You looked away to anywhere that wasnât him already feeling the heat spreading throughout your body, âJust stop or keep it down tonight, pleaseâ
âOh?â Jay raised an eyebrow, never hearing you beg before but quickly loving how you sound, âYou really want us to shut up, donât you?â
âSo damn badlyâ You softly let out making Jay raise his hands up in defense as his wordless apology
âWeâll try but no promisesâ He smiled hoping itâd satisfy you a little but only received an annoyed eye roll as you walked back to your place
Jayâs hand gripped the door frame, his body leaning forward to watch your hips swaying as you walked away, âByeâ He called out earning a warning glare as you opened the door and slammed it
He smirked to himself, closing his own door. âYou guys must be annoying to live next toâ Hoon commented as he rested up a chair waiting for Jay to return
âShut up Sunghoonâ Jay sneered earning a howl from his friend hearing the harsher tone used towards him unlike the softer voice used with you
âJust stating the factsâ Sunghoon raised his hands up in surrender, âBut whatâs her name?â
âSheâs so my typeâ
âFuck off Hoonâ Jake striked a direct hit towards the punching bag, the rubber sound echoing out before sending another strike as he spoke, âShe wouldnât want youâ
âOh Iâm sorry, did she tell you that?â Sunghoon raised his eyebrows towards Jake, âWhy wonât she be into me? Because Iâm not some fucking boxer like you two?â
Jay walked over to his discarded wraps of a glove, wrapping the white fabric around his hand and knuckles with precision making sure not a single piece of skin showing, âExactlyâ Jay threw the boxing curved towards Sunghoon who grunted when he revived them on his stomach
âNow get up, I need to practiceâ
âŽďż˝ďż˝ďż˝Ë
Coming back from a tiring day, you were ready to fall asleep the moment you met your bed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief seeing your front door in view. Just as you took a step forward, the door next to yours opened wide.
âHurry up Jayâ Jake yelled holding the door opened but it whacked behind him once he caught sight of you
He hissed at the collision and rubbed the back of his head, you sucked your teeth into a hiss but being the boxer he is, he must be used to it.
âIt doesnât kill you to hold open the doorâ You heard Jayâs voice once the door opened again, âFucking move-â Jay shoved the frozen Jake out of the way and there he saw you looking at them standing not far away from them
You looked between the two males, now noticing the different duffle bags they each held. Jake having a lighter washed out green with his name largely written in the front and Jay having a blacked out one with different designs all around, âWe have a match todayâ You looked back up to Jake whoâs hand that now hovered over his head noticing your lingering eyes
Your lack of response made them shift to stand side by side with each other, reminding you of the times, very few times why you were happyâalmost glad that they were your neighbors in the first place.
Not only one but two good looking boys next door who just so happen to be boxers, with raging muscles that called for you to claw at was the wildest and grandest fantasy you could ever have which became your reality when your two lovely neighbors showed up at your doorstep introducing themselves.
Opting to stay quiet, you slowly nodded your head and took a step in the opposite direction of them but stopped when you heard one of them speak up, âWanna wish us good luck babe?â
âThis matchâŚâ Jake looked off to the side catching Jayâs glance towards him, âIt might be the biggest one of our careerâ Jake said turning his gaze back onto you and you furrowed your eyebrows noticing a glint of sparkle in his eyes
Why want you to wish them luck? You had no grand power towards them. âUh good luck?â Your supposed support ended in hesitance rather than a welcoming gesture
âWho do you think will win? Me or Jake?â Jay suddenly chipped in, wrapping his arm around his friend where it allowed you to focus on the bicep growing in size
Taking a discreet gulp, you shrugged your shoulders, âI donât know, whoâs the better boxer?â Your question meaning to be harmless but noticing the sudden shift in them made you unconsciously straighten your posture
Not entirely sure why youâre deciding to entertain them but itâs definitely more fun than collapsing onto your bed.
âWhy donât you find out sweetheart?â Jayâs voice suddenly dropped into a slurred tone making your insides twist as you crossed your legs trying to hide how easy it was to leave you flustered
You hated the nicknames they used to address you but it sure did leave a squish in between your legs.
Jayâs smirk grew in size once he saw your reaction, Jake on the other hand, grew in dissatisfaction to the lack of attention towards him. He pushed Jayâs arm off his shoulder and rolled his eyes. âNo need to worry or stress about it too much, Iâll win since you knowâ Jake shrugged his shoulder while consciously flexing his arms his shirt lifting in the process showing the bottom outline of his toned stomach in a teasing manner âIâm the better boxerâ
âIâll even dedicate my win to you-â
âYou sure sound confident youâll winâ You sucked in your teeth cutting him off, tilting your head to the side, âIsnât it bad to be cocky?â Jay turned his head to the side to stifle his laugh as Jakeâs shoulder dropped along with his face
âNo- Not cocky, what- Thereâs nothing wrong with being confident of yourself â Jake defended himself making sure to put the emphasis on confident in his sentence causing you and Jay to burst out in an unexpected coordinated laugh
âAlright, if youâre so confident. Then win itâ Jay stopped his laughter instantly with a dropped jaw while Jake held back a prideful smile at the faith you have in him
âAnd whatâs in it for us?â Jay grabbed Jakeâs shoulder to pull his friend back enough for him to step up
Jake shot Jay a lookâa warning one that screamed for him to shut up.
You jerked your head back, thinking it was a terrible joke but seeing the seriousness in his face made you stop from laughing, âYou want something for me?â
âI thought pride and dignity would be enough knowing that you wonâ
Jay shook his head and Jake pulled at his friendâs shoulder muttering something incoherent to you but noticing the snapped look Jay gave Jake who glared at him made you raise an eyebrow.
Jay sighed before shaking his head, âYeah whatever, pride and dignity stuff is what mattersâ He waved off, hiking up the duffle bag from his slipping hand
âI-I mean we could play genieâŚâ You cringed at the choice of words but tried to look past it as a terrible humor attempt, âWinner gets one wish but you each grant me one wish in return no matter who winsâ
The sudden vocal admit of being able to receive something from youâof their choice triggered something into their mind, already motioning the gears sooner than when they were originally supposed to move.
âWha-Why do we both have to grant you one wish? Seems unfair to meâ Jay narrowed his eyes to hide the excitement building up in him
âYou owe me that much at leastâ You snapped back, âDo you know how much I put up with you two? I think itâs fair gameâ
âWell in boxing-â Jay started but Jake quickly covered his mouth and pulled him back showing a gleeful smile
âDonât listen to him, you got yourself a dealâ Jake extended his freehand out for you grasp while handling the frantic Jay in his arm wanting to push him away
Feeling the twist of your stomach warning of the lack of care in your words or the situation in general but a wave of excitement took over in a matter of seconds as you focused on greater matters.
What you need to buy for the upcoming birthday this week and the bulging muscles peeping out from underneath their shirts.
Grasping Jakeâs soft yet harsh hand, you both shook on it. A way too wide smile on his face and a strained one on yours. Regrets, youâve had them, you just wish this wouldnât be one of them.
âŽâË
âRemember our deal Jayâ Jake reminded his friend and roommate with a smirk as his red mouthpiece showed the hidden excitement slipping out
Jay waved him off, tapping the side of his blue headgear to get in the zone. Both were aware of what could be theirs due to the grand opportunity presented to them by your terms so losing wasnât really up their alley.
âHeyâ Jay turned around hearing the call with furrowed eyebrows
Jake smirked before clicking the strap off, allowing his headgear to slip off his shoulder and down to the ground. Jayâs eyes never left Jakeâs once, his stoic face soon grew a smile noticing the insinuation, âNo gear, just gloves and mouthpieceâ
He didnât respond to Jakeâs words, only following in suit during the silence. He clicked off his headgear to land in his arm and threw it off to the side with a loud clunk as it rolled off. Jakeâs smile grew wider before kicking his own piece out to follow Jayâs.
âMay the best man winâ Jay murmured as he walked over, pushing out his glove covered hands for Jake to clink
Once the tip of their gloves touched, they both went to their respective corners in the confided boxing arena with worn out ropes outlining it thatâs long overdue for its replacement.
Jake tapped his bare stomach feeling the crevice even through his glove as he shook out his limbs to get rid of any tension that could alter his performance.
Jay twisted his neck side of side, stretching his upper body backwards enjoying the cracks of the built up pressure releasing. He let out a satisfied groan.
At the sound of the whistle, they marched over to the middle, face to face, a stern determined look that screamed louder than anything they could express through words.
At the weak ding 5 seconds later, Jake striked the first punch causing Jay to step back in haste to avoid it. âWasting no timeâ He muttered under his breath before jumping on his toes
His arms leveled with his head protecting it with the lack of extra protection from the discarded headgear. Jake was still smiling through the whole thing as he twisted his body to the side.
He trains with Jay day in and day out that they are practically one, he knows how his roommate attacks.
Jay took his infamous step forward, his arm coming from below but Jakeâs eyes caught it before it could fully land. He blocked the attack with his arm, deflecting it away.
âCâmon Jongseong, youâll have to be better than thatâ Jake spat through his mouthpiece and Jay rolled his eyes at the muffled comment
While Jake was silently laughing at his comment like it was hilarious, Jay took the opportunity to swing straight to Jakeâs side making him wince upon impact. âShitâ He grunted under his breath from the unexpected attack having Jay chuckle showing a covered teeth smile
Youâre the one thatâll have to be better than that was Jayâs famous internal monologue before tumbling back from the strike straight to his stomach knocking him off his feet landing Jake the lead up by 1 point.
The match now tied continued far longer than they wanted but it was to be expected. Grander schemes were at play and in their minds, both of them needed to win this match, the two sâ in their lives depended on this.
Social and the other s that theyâve been denying far too long forcing it to bubble all thoughts in their minds whenever youâre around.
Jay could feel the exhaustion catching up to his body, the faint metallic taste on his tongue when he licked his lips. Jake, having his sweat mixed with whatever else was spilling out of him dragged down his neck, a wild smirk on his face mimicking his crazed gaze.
Having the more stamina out of the two, he barely had a dent in his energy levels unlike his roommate. Jake sucked his bottom lip, victory never tasted so good before.
Right when Jake was going to swing his final punch to end the match and earn the last point needed for his sweet sweet win, he felt the harsh pressure straight to his head knocking him down to the ground without much thought.
His head was pounding against his skull as he landed on his knees and elbows, trying to push his body back up to continue to the match, barely able to hear the faint countdown through his ringing ear.
Jay tapped the floor repeatedly in pure excitement once time was called. He walked around the secluded arena hyping himself up from the great play.
Jake crumbled and turned his body around to face the poorly lit ceiling, âI winâ Jayâs bruised face came into view, panting heavily as he extended an arm to help the sprawled Jake up who glared up at him, shoving the helping arm away in a grunt
âFucking cheaterâ Jake grumbled, âYou swung a foul hookâ
âWe never said anything about following match rulesâ Jay twisted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders like he did no wrongâwell technically he didnât. âI just interpreted it as a free fallâ Jakeâs face contorted in dissatisfaction at his friendâs words
Jake continued to stare up at Jay, the dim lighting behind blinded him in the process. The cocky demeanor that Jay tried to push down now slipping through that Jake could feel it in himself and he lost.
Rolling his eyes, he sat up his sore body from the hard mattress, the side of his jaw and head tingling with a sensation he tried to ignore from the reality of his loss. âCâmon Jake no hard feelings right?â
âYou remember our dealâ Being reminded while he finally stood up, Jake tapped Jayâs chest before grabbing his neck to crash and rest their sweaty foreheads together in hopes of the simple gesture being the wordless reminder of the full length of their deal
âDonât fucking ruin her before meâ Jake sneered causing Jay to smile widely as he dragged out the mouthguard, moving his mouth around to the freedom letting out a dark laugh as he stared right back into Jakeâs eyes
âWhereâs the fun in that?â
âŽâË
Your mouth fell slack as Jay stood at your door all bruised up as he dropped the filled duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump, âI wonâ He breathlessly muttered but his tone secure and firm
âDid you really?â You quietly commented seeing the dried up scratches and faint bruises forming on his sculptured face with his frizzy drenched hair
Something sickening twisted inside of you as you stare not able to peel your eyes away from him. Your legs stuck tighter together, it must be a worrying pity that you were feeling but the excitement that began to rise when you opened the door to see him was undeniable.
Jay huffed snapping you out of it, âI want my wishâ
Perplexed, you blinked your eyes harshly, âWhat?â You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right through the muffling of your ears growing by the second heâs in your presence like this
âYou said letâs play genie. So letâs play genieâ
Trying to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor now realizing how your words did in fact come to bite you. Your eyes traveled around his face looking past the injuries to see pure determination. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Nerves began seeping into your brain as you tried to make sense of his blazing determination, âI-I wait- Wha-What?â You stuttered out when Jayâs head suddenly leveled with yours as he drew closer
His faint breath fanning over yours, tilting his head to the side staring off to the distance, sucking his teeth in the process, âFor my wishâŚâ Jay turned his gaze back to you, nose bumping into each in the process from the closeness, âTake care of meâ
You gulped harshly at his conceding words. There felt to be an underlying sense from just what was being said. As you stared at his deep eyes, it was like he read every thought that was crossing your mindâsearching for the one that yelled for him.
âI-I donât have anything to treat youâ You softly mumbled but your eyes never looked away making him let out a low chuckle while his unnoticed hovering hand landed on your lower back to squish the distance in between to nothing
âWhat type of genie are you?â Jay jokingly tooted his lips softly shaking his head, âThatâs okay sweetheart, good thing for you I have everything you needâ
And a few moments later, you found yourself sitting on Jayâs bed, in his room that is exactly what you imagined it to be. A waif of musky cologne, a bunch of weights scattered around, an inflatable punching bag and to your surprise two guitarsâone electric disconnected from the amplifier and an acoustic in the corner.
You dropped your head into your hands from the blur of you stepping out of your place and following Jay back to his only to find yourself in his room, on the edge of his bed and the prominent flutter in your chest growing in anticipation.
You shouldâve been more careful with your words.
âWhat are you doing here?â You remained quiet holding your head in your hand, trying to ignore the question from Jake who you quickly recognized by the accent slipping through, âBabe?â
âI told you not call me any na-â You started hearing his voice drawing in as you lifted your head up only then realizing just how close Jake was to you all of sudden
Jumping from the unexpected closeness, Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you to prevent you from toppling over to the floor. âYou should be more careful. Canât have all three of us hurtâ He lightly chuckled
Taking into account his words, you stared at him wide eyed soaking in the bruised lip, a cut on his cheek with a growing redding and a cut that peeked from under the messy fluffy hair faintly covering his eyes that you itched to sweep away.
In a moment of silence, Jake's eyes poured deep into yoursânot in search of anything just merely looking, he let out a low sigh, âDonât think I ever told you how pretty you areâ He hummed while his eyes zeroed on your lips for a second longer, making sure you noticed âYouâre so prettyâ His eyes looked up to catch yours staring right at him, never looking away
Your mouth slightly fell open to respond but instead a strained noise came out of your mouth, âI have a small wishâ Jake murmured in a soft hallucinated tone, his lips so close to yours, âWill you give it to me?â
âJakeâ You breathlessly let out and Jake crashed his hovering lips onto yours and almost instantaneously, you closed your eyes shut and fell into his plump lips smiling against yours
The puttering of your heart was so loud, you're worried Jake mightâve been able to hear it from how close he was. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly at your back while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as much as he could.
His freehand rose and cupped at your jaw to stabilize himself, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, silently pleading for your permission. You cracked open your mouth as he entered like heâs been waiting for so long.
Your hands grabbed the thin fabric you would barely call a t-shirt clinging to his body for support. Pulling at your lip, you slightly jolt making him smile harder in the kiss. His hand traveled from your jaw to the side of your neck as he pulled away from the kiss.
You chased after his lips with closed eyes not wanting to feel the warmth disappear but your eyes shot wide open when you felt wet splotches placed at the side of your neck.
Jake messily planted feathering kisses all around your neck. Your hands gripped his hair, erupting groans from him as you pulled when he nibbled at your skin.
Your neck fell pliant in his hand, providing all access to him. Jake roughly stuck his body to yours, curving your body with his. âJakeâ You breathlessly pant, your eyes fluttering shut
âThatâs right, say my nameâ He grumbled against your skin while his fingers dug into your sides not wanting to let you go even for a second
âYou fucking sleezeâ You jumped at the sudden voice not far from you or Jake
Jay stood at his door, an amused smirk resting on his face. He pushed back his hair from his forehead with a dark chuckle causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies.
Jake let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down but his hands never letting go. He craned his neck back to see his roommate staring right at you, ignoring his presence as a whole.
Jake shrugged his shoulders as Jay threw the first-aid kit on his neat desk scattering the stuff around in the process, âYou wasted your timeâ
The door behind him closed with a click following after and you watched, realizing you were locked with the boys next door. âNo youâre just impatient and couldnât wait your turnâ Jay sneered as he strutted towards you and Jake, the bubbling anger in him filled the room
You looked between the two and Jay took notice of your wavering eyes between them, his eyes trailed down and saw when you squished your legs tightly together under his gaze.
The feel of anger melted away as he stepped closer, placing his hands on his knees as he leveled at your head. He chuckled while his thumb reached out and softly stroked your cheek. âOr maybe youâre the impatient oneâ He grinned and you looked at him like an animal caught in headlights
His eyes bore into you, his side smirk only grew wider when you looked away from him. That was the answer he needed. He patted his roommateâs shoulder until he looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
Jay tilted his head, pointing towards the lonely chair in his room far from the bed. Jake aggressively shook his head, not wanting to give up what he already started but Jay gripped his shoulder tighter and repeated the motion. âMove. A deal is a dealâ
The reminder trickled the built-up sweat down the back of your neck. A moment of silence for the lost session before Jake grumbled under his breath, his hands loosening on your waist before pushing Jayâs hand off with an annoyed huff.
You watched Jake hunched over to the chair, kicking the chair in the process before sitting down with a loud deep sigh, folding his armsâthe biceps and triceps peeking from underneath one another as he stared in front of you two.
Jayâs hand cupped your chin and pulled your head away from Jakeâs direction onto him. âLet him wallow in his self pity for now. Right now, letâs focus on us genieâ The name shouldnât have let you hot and bothered the way it did but when Jayâs calloused hands cupped your face lifting it high up for him, all thoughts went out the window
Your eyes stared up at him and Jay felt a familiar carnal bloom inside of him. The crease at your cheek reappeared as he toppled his head down to capture your lips with his.
The initial shock melted away as your eyes fluttered closed again and you were enclasped in the moment with Jay. His hand held your jaw delicately, different from how you originally anticipated.
His lips moved with yours and you felt everything around you turn into nothing, even the other male sitting eyes burning into your existence.
Jayâs hand traced down to your neck, holding it firmly in his hold. Your hands gripped at his nape, your fingers tugging at the bottom hairs making him groan as he softly pushed you on his bed.
Your mind was dizzy, you could feel the twitch of his mouth, your lips would graze his damaged one. âSorryâ You managed to say through the kiss but Jay only smiled as he pressed his lips harder against yours hoping that itâd mold together as one
Letting out a squeak from your throat, you felt Jayâs hand drag up your side. The roughness contrasted Jakeâs eagerness, whose leg bounced up and down as he watched the scene before him.
Jayâs lip melted with yourself that you could nearly taste the metallic taste on your taste bud when his tongue slipped past.
Your hand tangled with his hair, his hand roughly grabbing at your side as he hovered over your body.
Sinking into his mattress, you melted further into cloud 9. The lack of oxygen started to infiltrate your foggy brain, worsening it by the second, your mind screamed for a second of air while your body interpreted the kiss as your only need of oxygen.
Hearing your heavy shallow breaths Jay pulled away from the kiss and with hooded eyes, he took a glimpse towards you which stunned him. Your swollen lips begging for more, your closed eyes and hanging open mouth as you finally took in deep breaths to make up for the lack of it.
Before him was a scene he wanted to burn in his mind forever.
Feeling Jay pull away from you, you lazily opened your eyes to see him looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes making your insides churn.
Jay dipped his head down to the crevice of your neck and began planting soft kisses just like how Jake had done. You lifted your body off the bedding feeling his mouth messily leaving wet splotches on your neck. Your chest rumbled out with a satisfied held back moan.
âLet me- No Let Jakey over there hear how good Iâm making you feelâ The mention of the male made you turn to the side to see Jake with folded arms glaring at the two of you
You made eye contact with his strong oneâs and saw the faintest smirk ghost his face as he slightly jerked his lips forward pointing to where you lay sprawled with Jay hovering over youâushering you to pay attention to whatâs in front of you.
âYouâre shivering sweetheartâ Jay pointed out feeling the goosebumps forming on your skin, he smirked before taking a nip at your neck causing your attention to come back to him
Jayâs kisses furthered down your neck until he reached the starting point of your shirtâs neckline. His eyes looked to yours, silenting asking for permissionâwaiting for the sign. You stared right at him as you softly nodded your head.
The smile he gave was different from the otherâs he has given you, this being more genuine and softening. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, feeling the material against his touch before carefully hiking it up exposing your skin.
It felt like it was in slow motion. Jayâs eyes never trained off of yours, as you shivered once the cold air hit your skin and you could feel the warmth radiating off his hands grazing your skin. âI got youâ He softly whispered just enough for you to hear noticing your shuddered
Your arms lifted up as Jay peeled the fabric off before throwing it behind him to be discarded.
Jake watched the shirt thrown his way and the sneak of a glance Jay took towards him, a prideful expressionâgesture. His jaw clenched as he quickly unfolded his arms and the chair he was sitting in screeched from under him.
âUh oh I think someone is growing impatientâ Jay voice filled with a teasing tone as he saw how Jake walked over in strides
You lifted your head to see Jake standing next to the bed, âCan I help you?â Jay raised an eyebrow causing Jake to scowl before it instantly melting when he looked at you
He cleared his throat before tapping at Jayâs shoulder, âTimeâs upâ He told trying to make his tone firmer than usually which was followed by a stifled laugh from Jay who dropped his head for a moment at his roommates sternness
âLetâs seeâŚâ Jay caught your flickering eyes with a smile tilting his head just a little, âWhat do you think? Should we let him join us?â
You gulped down the lump in your throat. Through the fog of your mind, you registered your two good looking neighbors, the beat up boxerâs before youâboth looking at you with a look that you couldnât decipher but could feel in your bones.
You opened your mouth only to close it not trusting yourself to speak coherent sentences that wouldnât end up with you tangled in the bed with the two of them but deep down it was what you wanted.
Only able to let out out a breathlessly tone as you roughly nodded your head , âYes pleaseâ
Jakeâs smile grew wildly as he hastily removed his shirt in one swift motion. Jay rolled his eyes at his friend before being shoved to the side by Jake who replaced his position. âWhat the-â You heard Jay off to the side but couldnât focus on what else he said as your focus fell back onto Jake
You shifted in your spot at the sudden switch but Jakeâs comforting smile eased your nerves. Hovering above you, his arm with his bulging bicep supporting him while his other hand stroked against your cheek.
Your eyes took in his face before trailing down body. The biceps are prominent with no distraction covering it, the cut of his triceps trailing down, his collar bone sticking out that your hand itches to grab atâmore preferably gnaw at to keep you quiet and the outlining of his toned stomach that youâve only seen through teasing manners in all its glory.
As you trailed further down, you see the raging bulge being restrained in his sweats. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the print against the material but forcibly keeping your mouth closed was easier said than done.
Your eyes looking back up to see Jakeâs hungry filled ones, a smile that melted your heart almost instantaneously. âYouâre the prettiest girl everâ He softly murmured before going to capture your lips in a chaste kiss
Receiving it just as easily as it was given to you, your hands tangled into his fluffy hair that youâve waited so long to rake through. Yet, through the muffle of your ears, you were able to pick up off the shuffling beside you.
Jake sucked at your bottom lip, tugging at the flesh with a grin before pulling away with a heavy breath. He rested his forehead against yours before making his way down your cheek then to your jaw, âPicking up where I left offâ He blabbed against your neck as he softly sucked on the skin
His hand softly pushed your head to the side as his mouth traveled all over your neck. Having your neck craned, youâre faced with Jay smirking as he watches you and Jake.
His shirt and sweats were long discarded somewhere as he adjusted himself on the bed in a sitting position, his arm extending from behind to hold himself up. He turned his head to the side in a tilt, a smirk never leaving his face.
Your mouth opened, ripping out a soft moan when you felt the cold air hit your now bare chest which was then warmed by a wet sensation wrapping around the hardening bud.
You gasped loudly as your hands immediately grasped Jakeâs hair, throwing your head back further into the sheets.
A sound fell from Jake the moment he came into contact with your breast, his tongue gliding over the hardening bud as his other hand fondled with the other.
Your mind became filled with his touch and mouth on you, your back arched as you squealed when he tugged at it between his teeth.
He smirked when he heard you, âJ-Jakeâ You softly moaned, tugging at his hair harder earning a faint strained noise to rupture out of him, your heart hammered against your chest that you were sure he could hear and feel it
âKeep saying my name out of that pretty mouth of yoursâ Jake hummed as he never once let the slightest attention slip through his finger. He pulled at your hardened nipple in a teasing manner, one harsher than the last before running his tongue over the burning sensation
You melted further into the mattress as everything around you disappeared as you felt like you were lifted into a cloud. âJakeyâYou called out the nickname you heard Jay call him and he harshly tugged at your nipple making your squeal
He usually brushed off the nickname as nothing hearing it from others yet, hearing it from you only fueled his farther down a rabbit hole he could never escape fromâwhich he would never want in the first place.
His mouth popped your saliva covered bud out of his mouth only to move down the middle in between the crevice before sinking further down.
Your pants were heavy as he inches closer to the growing wetness in between your legs. Unconsciously squishing your legs together before he could reach in between, his eyes flickered up pleading for permission while his fingers stopped toying with your waistband. âGetting shy on me now?â His tone dipped deeper into a hum making your body shiver
With the lack of response, his mouth tugged to the side and peeled his hands away as he began pulling away. The warmth that hovered over your bottom half was disappearing only to feel the burn inside of you that you quickly wrapped your legs around his shoulder causing a yelp to fall as you stopped him, roughly shaking your head.
His hands gripped at your hips to stabilize himself as your legs hooked around him. The giggle he let out surrounded the room and your ears as you felt his head level with your leaking entrance with a nod.
His fingers glided up the side of your leg, able to feel the warmth of his hand through your pants before he tugged at the waistband again, âGoing to have to let me go for a second babeâ He teased running his hand up and down your legs causing warmth to rise to your cheeks
âSorryâ You murmured, loosening your legs around him to feel the tips of his finger tug at your pants before slowly pulling them down
Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, the tenderness and precision he had for simply peering the clothing off of you was warming.
Once it passed your ankles, Jake threw it off and immediately returned to his place right in between your thighs. Adjusting your legs over his shoulder easily exposing the damp undergarment sticking to your entrance. âSo prettyâ He blabbed, âWet alreadyâ
Jake hummed as his eyes scanned over the wet patch on your panties, âIs this because of me?â He tilted his head to the side, having his shaky hand moved from your hips to swipe across the damp fabric making you squeal at the contact
Your head felt dizzy while your lower body moved with his finger, soaking in the feel, âWell?â He ripped his finger away once you werenât responding
âY-yesâ You let out a broken cry, âItâs because of youâ
Jake smirked to himself in pride, taking an obvious glance towards Jay who only let out a silent scoff at the ego growing in Jake. âGoodâ He hummed
He stuck out his tongue and took a long stride against your covered core, mixing his saliva with your soaked panties as his fingers teasing your folds just over the material. You jumped from the sudden touches as your hand flung to his hair, biting your lips as you held back the noise daring to fall
While being ignored long enough after being such a good friend, roommate and neighbor, Jay can no longer deny his own problem growing in size hearing your beautiful sounds.
Your eyes screwed shut, whines falling out as you let yourself feel Jakeâs tongue protrude into your covered hole in a teasing manner to him sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves when his finger was at the brink of your entrance ready to slip in.
But, at the sudden lifting of your head, your eyes shot wide open to Jay placing your upper body to rest up against his while his arms came up from behind straddling over your bare skin.
The contact of flesh pressed up against your back with the sensation of Jakeâs finger tugging your panties to the side to finally see your smeared covered pussy was consuming you whole.
Jayâs hand reached higher until finally landing on your chest, feeling it with his own hand after having to watch Jake do it first. Your body arched off his but he quickly dragged you back with a harsh pull. âStay with meâ He whispered into your ear leaving a shiver to run up your spine
One hand remained fondling with your breast fondling while the other traced up your neck, lifting your fallen head up, craning it to allow him to place his mouth messily on top of yours.
You hummed in satisfaction feeling how he kissed you, his hand holding the juncture between your neck and jaw firmly as he sucked on your bottom lip, the familiar taste of metallic hitting your tongue.
Yet, your mouth dropped in the kiss letting out a quiet gasp as you felt the intrusion of two fingers entering your hole. âShitâ Jake breathlessly pants watching how his two fingers disappeared inside of you
You whipped your head towards the male as he began pumping his fingers in a shallow thrust. Your hand landed to the side, gripping the sheets into a fist only for it to be replaced by Jay intertwining your hands.
With an agape mouth, the moans youâve been trying to hold back slowly began to spill, feeling how Jakeâs finger pushed deeper insideâcurling up to feel your gummy walls surrounding him.
âHe makes you feel good?â Jay lulled in your ear which you weakly nodded your head at, âTell him how good heâs making you feelâ
Your bottom lip shivered, âS-So goodâ You managed to get out feeling how he slipped until he was knuckles deep inside of you, âJakeâ You called out his name as you threw your head back onto Jayâs shoulder
âSo good Jake- Pleaseâ
Jake was too fascinated watching his fingers disappear that his name fell deaf on his ears. He watched how his dry fingers were now drenched in your arousal and he couldnât miss out on anymore. He dipped his head close as he placed the first kiss against your entranceâelighting a soft moan from you.
Jake groaned the moment he tasted you on his taste buds. He pressed his face closer to you, his tongue gliding in between your folds âThe absolute sweetestâ He mumbled pulling at the bundle of nerves screaming for attention, his finger never faltering in pace
He sucked any essence that was slipping through his fingers, his tongue lathering itself all over you. His body felt so heavy and his mind too light, he lost himself.
Jay smirked, feeling you squirm against his chest, holding his hand tightly with the feel of his hands running over your breasts, softly playing with them as he ever so often twists your nipple, timing it when Jake tugs at your clit, to earn a louder squeak from you.
Your senses were heightened as they focused on their respective actionsâperfectly in sync and coordinated with each other without having uttered a single word.
Jay gripped on your mound as he sloppily left kisses at the side of your face whilst Jake could feel you clenching around his finger when he intentionally shoved deeper.
The hot build up in your stomach was daring to snap, the rubbing mouth and hands on your body left your mind reeling.
âLook at what youâre doing to Jakeâ The mention of the man down below, you looked through heavy eyelids to see Jakeâs tongue flickering as he matched his pace with his finger but you could see him softly rutting his hips against the mattress
At the sight, you could feel the fluttering shut of your hole around his fingers as the snap in your stomach erupted a loud moan, while your body shook from the ecstasy that washed over you, âShitâ Jake breathlessly muttered seeing how along with you coming, there was another soaking stream coming out of you
Jake pulled out his finger quickly before rubbing at your folds roughly, wanting to earn more of your release out of you. You gasp at the stimulation as your body arches and slightly trashes but Jay hooked his arms at your waist keeping you in place.
Your pants were strained and heavy, âJ-Ja⌠Pleaseâ You cried out until Jake finally pulled his hand away without dipping one finger into your hole
Gasping loudly, soft whimpers falling from your mouth, allowing your body to rest against Jay. âNow that wasâŚâ Jay softly said, pulling his arms away from your heaving body
âFucking hotâ Jake finished his sentence as he admired his soaked covered hand
You turned your head away in embarrassment but Jay quickly coddled you, âHey, hey, donâtâ Placing soft kisses against your head, your tensed body soon relaxed melting into the praise, âThat was amazing. You did amazingâ
You looked over to Jake who looked from his hand over to you. Your glistening eyes, your mouth hanging slightly open with your chest on full display rising with each shallow breath.
He dipped his hand flat onto the mattress, inching his head closer to your to catch your lips in a chaste chase. Cringing at the taste at first and the smearing of your arousal at the lower half of his face landing on yours. He held your chin, sucking at the lower bottom of your lip in need as you could feel Jayâs hand traveling down your body.
Feeling like you were on the fire, your blood ran cold when you felt the soft fingers inching closer until it reached the warming bundle of nerves and slid the tip of a single finger down the center of your drenched hole. You moaned against Jakeâs mouth who gleamed hearing your noises reappearing.
Immediately you trashed when you felt Jayâs finger teasing your entrance, âSensitive?â His seductive tone wished into your ear, infiltrating your mind with ease
A deep hum rumbled out of his chest as he slipped just the tip of his finger back in. You softly bit at Jakeâs bottom lip letting a hiss fall from him.
But as Jayâs finger slipped further in, he messily planted kisses at your head and Jakeâs mouth moved from your mouth to the side of your jaw down to your.
Jay ripped his hand away and Jake detached his mouth from your skin, a silent coordinated moment, leaving your body all hot and bothered. Your eyes wearily darted between them.
Jake and Jay noticed your confused gaze as they snuck a look to each otherâBoth seeing the familiar craze that only shows when theyâre in the rink appear in each other now. âI still need to be taken care ofâ Jayâs voice dropped in tone and you churned your head back catching a glimpse of his gaze turning your insides to mush
âWill you take care of me? Sweetheartâ His tone slurred soaking into you
You licked your lips before folding them and letting them go in a shaky breath, âYeahâ Your voice barely above a whisper as you softly nodded
âAttaâ girlâ Jay chuckled softly tapping at your side
He shifted positions until you were sprawled back on his bed, looking up to the very neighbors you couldnât stand their inability to stay quiet but at this moment, they didnât seem that badânot in the slightest.
Your heartbeat patterned against your chest harshly, anticipation growing by the second when suddenly a hand landed at your side, tapping at it, âFlip overâ Jakeâs voice rang through the room and not wanting to test either of the patience unable to know if it would be the end just like that
You gulped down the lump before planting your body up on your elbows, turning around but just when you were going to lay your front to the mattress, a hand stopped you, âOn all fours for usâ You heard Jayâs voice from behind and a chill ran up your spine from the lack of sight of either of them
An inevitable shudder of your breath left you as you landed on your hands and knees, a burn resting upon your cheeks at the more revealing position.
Your neighbors remained silent, hearing each breath you took alerting them of the nerves growing in you. Taking a look at each other, unspeakable words understood, Jay switched positions with Jake.
Your eyes looked from the bed below you to see Jakeâs warming smiling greeting you, âHiâ He giggled
Noticing how the tension in your body silently lifted, you felt roaming hands threading from your back to your hips until you felt a cup at your core making you gasp.
Shooting a look behind your shoulder harshly tugging at your mouth. Jay pulled at your cheek, baring the sight before him greater to see the soaked covered crevice glistening before his eyes.
He licked his lips in anticipation, tasting the hint of whatever was on it mixing together on his tongue.
Your head was turned back staring at Jakeâs toned stomach, the lines dipping with each drop and your eyes fell further down to the bulge now in front of you.
You gulped feeling your hole subconsciously fluttering around nothing, having Jay smirk noticing your pulsating entrance.
Your eyes trained at Jakeâs hardened cock making his heart hammer out of his chest that he swore you could hear it. Taking a look behind you to his roommate noticing his actions, he quickly shifted his eyes back onto you, creasing your head.
Right when you were going to look up to Jake, you suddenly felt the tease of your folds being pushed apart by a wet sensation. The obscene sound of the small taps against your dripping pussy made you shiver as Jayâs tip rubbed over your smeared entrance, mixing the already wet arousal everywhere.
âJayâ You whined at his tease and he sent a light slap onto your side
âWhatâs wrong? Still being impatient?â He hummed, his hand soothing the tingling sensation before slapping the same spot again, âWhat do you want sweetheart?â
Knowing what Jay was searching for, you harshly tugged at your mouth, âP-pleaseâŚâ Your voice too low to hear anything
âWhat was that?â
âPlease fuck meâ
Unable to see him, you were going to peer over your shoulder when the stretch at your entrance caught you off guard. You loudly gasped as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white from your hold while your body almost fell foward but was stopped by Jake.
Jay slowly eased himself into you, holding himself back from filling you up in one thrust, a hiss leaving his mouth feeling how you clenched around him. âFuckâ He stroked your hips harshly, âSo good- Taking me so fucking goodâ His voice cracked each inch he pulled your walls apart, sinking and relishing in the tight feel around him
âJ-Jayâ Your voice squeaked as the stretched that quickly began to swift into a pleasurable feel, your mind too preoccupied when you suddenly felt a poke to your cheek
Your gaze shifted to see the raging tip, you looked up to see Jake sneering a cheesy smile towards you, no words were exchanged and yet, you opened your mouth wide as you looked up at him.
His expression twitched as the smile grew, âWho knewâ Jake groaned more so for him rather than for you under his breath before grazing his leaking tip on your unblemished lips
Stroking the side of your face, making all around fall to silence. Maintaining eye contact with you, Jake could feel the throbbing at hand. Passing the warmth of your lips, you engulfed the tip in, welcoming the unwavering taste on your tongue.
Jake groaned, feeling the warmth around his cock lighting his whole body in fire.
At a harsh thrust jolting your body forward, you unintentionally gagged around Jake at the sudden harsh push deep inside of you.
Trying to even out your breathing in any way you can, you suddenly felt the drag of Jayâs cock slipping out of you in a slow manner before easing himself back in where he left.
Still not used to the stretched, you whined making the vibration send straight through Jakeâs fuzzy mind and down the rushing blood to his twitching self resting heavy in your mouth.
Jayâs thrust started off slow and rhyminc, low groans leaving as he tried to keep himself rational to allow you to somewhat get adjusted to his size.
Your full mouth moved when Jay suddenly sent a harsh thrust forward as his rationality began to fade away, landing you further down Jakeâs resting heft, who let out a stuffed grunt at the movements, having to remind himself to not release in your mouth so quickly.
Tears brimmed at your eyes, Jakeâs roughed hands, the calloused feel of them rubbed against your cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. âDoinâ so good for us babe⌠You can do itâ His words of encouragement raised your mind higher into the cloud of pleasure
You meekly nodded your head causing the movement to rupture around Jake having him let out a breathless moan when your tongue strung over, you mouth tightly wrapped around, sucking at what you can without choking.
Yet, you froze closing your eyes tightly shut when you felt the drag of emptiness before being filled again, âS-Shitâ You managed to hear Jay through your ringing ears
Your shaky freehand managed to grasp the base that wasnât in your mouth and stroke Jake focusing on your tongue swirling around tasting the faint precum thatâs been leaking out.
Jayâs hand rested at your hips, the shallow thrust growing deeper after each one, his once even breathing shifted into a heavier one as he focused on the way you welcomed him in and allowed him to slip out with ease.
âSuch a fucking sweetheart, taking me so goodâ He hissed, âBet you were waiting for thisâ His finger pinched at your side making you muffle out a yelp
âCâmon tell us youâve been waiting for thisâ Jayâs resting hand semt a slap towards your hips rippling out the sound followed by your huffed whine
âY-yesâ You weakly wailed trying to speak as clear as possible for them to hear
âLook at you trying to talk with your mouth fullâ Jay sneered seeing how you attempted to take more of Jake in your mouth
Jakeâs hand rested at the back of your head helping you meet his weak thrust to push you further down his length. Your eyes tracked upwards to see Jakeâs thrown head to the side, hooded eyes staring right at you.
He let out a smile watching how you looked with your lips wrapped around him. He stroked your head softly, âPretty girl next door couldnât wait to get fucked by us, isnât that right babe?â He raised an eyebrow causing you whine
Jayâs pace soon grew faster, his hips slamming against you as his fingers dig at your sides for support that the form of idents could be felt. With how you clenched around his cock, taking more than the last time made his heart soar.
âSuch a nasty girl but, youâre our nasty girl, arenât ya?â Jay darkly chuckled sending a harsh thrust that made you swallow Jake whole
The moment that he hit the back of your, he groaned loudly, his fingers wrinkling as he could feel your throat contracting around the new feel of him deeper. âFuckâ Jake loudly grunted followed by your gagging sounds
The feel of Jayâs tip everything inside of you was a pleasurable feel you never felt before to feeling Jake hitting the back of your throat, your senses heightened as your mind faded into a fog of just your two neighbors.
âJ-Ja-â Your muffled voice was barely audible causing each of them to let out a laugh, the jolts of your body kept moving forward from Jayâs cock hitting your insides, molding you just for him
Jake softly drew himself back from your mouth, a wash of breath air filling your lungs making you suck in the deep breath before he bucked his hips back in and out, filling your mouth again of him, âYouâre taking him so good, look at youâ
You clamped around Jayâslength, âFuck, you like getting praised?â He commented in a deep groan, âLike knowing youâre being such a good girl for us?â
You weakly nodded your head, unable to respond but wanting to show some type of response and that fueled Jayâs heartâseeing your efforts to get something out for him. He rubbed his hand over your lower back and hips, his touch leaving fire trails on your skin the moment of contact.
Spit accumulated at the side of your mouth, dripping down in its wake down your chin as Jake softly slammed his hips, his cock going back down your throat as your hands grabbed whatever it could to keep you hoisted up.
Your gargle sounds filled the room with the faint sounds of Jay meeting you and the inevitable moans falling from your stuffed mouth.
Jay snapped his hips faster, his eyes trained on how all of him disappeared inside of you perfectly as Jake slowly chased after your mouth when he pulled away, only for you to grasp on him and lick his hard on from the base all the way to the topâsucking whatever he was giving you.
You could feel how Jayâs thrust was growing frantic and irregular, the muffled moans leaving your mouth only grew louder the harder he slammed his hips against yours which only fueled their growing desire further.
âCome all over himâ Jake whispered, encouraging you and somehow you managed to pick it up through the noises bouncing off the wall and your mind was set
Jakeâs cock was throbbing in your throat, the closing and opening of each sound you released mixed with a gagging noise made him draw closer to tie daring to snap in his stomach.
He rutted his hips faster feeling the familiar coil build up in his stomach. âYouâll take it right? What I give you, right babe?â Jakeâs voice squeaked higher as his stomach began to tighten
Jayâs hand thread over your back to your waist, wrapping his arm around as he slammed his hips harder against yours, his fingers pressed over your stomach and pushed deep into it, âNasty girl is going to take what we give herâ He grumbled it as a statement rather than a question and you knew that you wouldn't have to tryâyou would
Jakeâs groans turned into small pants as he stilled his hips and let out a gruntled whine as the warm liquid filled your mouth and you jerked, feeling how it slicked past your throat. âSo good-So fucking goodâ
Yet, Jay continued to ram his hips causing your mouth to vibrate around Jake having him hiss at the simulation still dragging out through his high, âH-Hurry up Jayâ Jake sneered as he tried to pull away from your mouth, the shaking of his body worsening if he stays any longer
Yet, he stopped when you weakly wrapped your hand around his shaft that he could only pull away halfway. You pumped what wasnât in your mouth, your tongue licking his tip clean seeking in the air that you could before taking a big gulp to get rid of the remnants of Jakeâs cum in your mouth.
Your mouth fell open as the obscene sounds lolled off your tongue with Jayâs cock filling your insides with each trust and through it all, Jake caught a glimpse of the inside of your cleaned mouthâwith the exception of a few white strings lingering behind.
âF-Fuckâ His voice cracked when you sucked his tip cleaned regardless of his softening cock at hand, âP-pleaseâ Jake pleaded when you took him back in your slacked mouths
Muffled through the sounds, Jayâs harsh thrust after another soon came to a stop. âS-Sweet girl, such a good damn girlâ One harsh thrust sent before another as he bottomed himself forcing himself as deep as humanly possible as he marked up your once velvet walls full of him in a loud groanâbliss taking over.
You moaned at the sudden warm fillment flowing in your inside as you let go of Jake with a loud pop, landing face firstâyour head on the mattress while your body shivered from Jay filling you up.
Your hands weakly crumbled the sheets beneath you as pitiful whines rumbled out of your chest.
Jay remained inside of you, stuffing you full of him as his calloused bruised hands roaming all around your back, âDid so good. So fucking proud of you-Took the both of us too damn goodâ His voice was warm that you could feel it in your body but wasnât able to properly comprehend in your mind
âSweetheart?â He softly called out and you turned your head to the to side catching a glimpse of the dismantled Jay behind you
The few hairs stuck to his forehead, the bruised face glistening in sweat as it trickled down his neck and past his collarbone to stop at his built chest.
You fluttered around Jay making his eyes whip to where he and you were still attached. He watched the few remnants of his release inside of you managed to escape where it could, his heart raced at the scene.
The feel of drag from his cock out of you made you whine at the sudden emptiness and stretch leaving you as Jay watched at how your hole flattered around nothing before the few spurts of his cum leaked out, his eyes widened realizing that it couldnât stop at just thatâafter just one mere round.
Jake shushed your heaving self, his hand carefully stroked your head. Turning your head, you see Jakeâs warm smile, his red cut cheek still catching your gaze and his side bruised lip.
Your eyes flickered closed as he dipped down capturing your mouth with his and his face slightly scrunched at the faint taste of him on your lips.
You melted in the plush of his lips meeting yours but you gasped when you felt fingers glide across your messy folds, gathering whatever was smeared around it and pushing it back inside of your entranceâwhere itâs meant to be, âStickyâ Jay whispered in a daze like haze as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you
Jake gave one longer peck as he softly gripped your face, a hum in his chest erupting out before he pulled away. âCan you go one more?â He asked past his swollen lips
Your heart was hammering out of your chest, your body was trying to catch up from the previous orgasms.
And yet, you nodded your head causing a bloom over his chest before he excitedly captured your lips in a quick peck. âSo good for me-For us. Promise itâll feel good. Just let us take care of youâ Jake mumbled before giving a smile and letting go of your face to shoot a harsh glare towards Jayâdifferent from how he looked at you
His roommate didnât flinch for a second, already having been looking at him with a smirk resting on his face. Jay curled his fingers inside of you causing you to hiss loudly because even if he had his timeâheâd enjoy it if you were still acknowledging him.
âYou heard him sweetheart, let us take care of youâ Jay planted a wet kiss on your bare back, his eyes falling into a hooded look that made your tired insides twist
Your body was turned over, your back meeting the soft mattress and a satisfied hum slipped past your lips at the stern support lifting your body.
Through your half-lidded eyes, you looked up to see Jay and Jake looking at you, a glistening look in each of their eyes that screamed something ineligible to youâfueled by a desire to devour you whole.
âJust focus on us. No need to think of anything else in that pretty head of yoursâ
âŽâË
Your face scrunched hearing the loud banging rupturing in the distance. Shifting in the sheets, you buried your head deeper into the warmth that engulfed you, believing if you ignored it long enough then it'll seize to exist.
When your eyes and mind began to fade back into slumber, the warmth at your side disappeared with the exception of a feathering touch ghosting your head with an inaudible whisper before disappearing.
Dazedly opening your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peeking inside, you looked next to you, noticing the once occupied space now empty with a dip in the mattress of who once laid there.
Your sore body is now catching up to your mind when you try to move with the addition of a weight holding you down and forcing you closer to the body behind you as the head nuzzles deeply into your back, holding you close.
You looked down to see the bruised red skin resting at the knuckles, the faint scratches on them wrapped around your waist.
However, at the sound of the door carefully opening, you lifted your head up to Jakeâs loose clothing hanging onto his body, his disheveled messy hair, and his heavy eyes shining in the sunlight.
âWho was at the door?â Your voice low and strained as you rubbed your eyes, trying to slip out of Jayâs bear like hug at your waist who was yet to wake up
Jake smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him just to lean up against it with a sigh before pushing himself off, his steps slow and nearing until his head was leveled with yours.
Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed his finger over his tugging upwards lips.
The hands wrapped at your waist threaded higher nearing your chest in a slower manner, Jay rested his head onto your shoulder. Jake sank to his knees, his hands moving down to your knees before having pry them open.
âNeighbor. Told us to keep the noise down next timeâ
ââ
a special dedication and tag to @hearts4hee, for you hon<3
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen jay smut#jay smut#park jongseong smut#park jay smut#jay park smut#park jay x reader#park jongseong x reader#enhypen jay#enhypen x reader#jongseong smut#enhypen jake smut#jake smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake sim smut#enhypen jake#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#jaeyun smut
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red carpet reveal | drew starkey
pairing - drew starkey x gf!reader
warnings - none
summary - drew brings you to the outer banks season four premiere even though you're relationship is still under wraps. well, until it isn't thanks to a pushy reporter.
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the 'outer banks' premiere is in full swing and you're so grateful you get to experience it with drew for the first time. you're buzzing with excitement, the flashing of cameras and excited fans screaming as the cast makes their way onto the red carpet feels surreal.
"you doing okay?" drew asks, gently squeezing your hand.
you nod, looking up at him with a smile, "more than. go shine you superstar."
he chuckles and his hand gives you another comforting squeeze before letting it go and opting to rest it on your back. the way he looks in that suit, flashing his signature smile to the cameras, makes you wonder how the hell you even let him out of the hotel room.
as drew is ushered into many different interviews, you keep to yourself, staying mostly in the background and out of shot. you don't mind this, always having preferred to watch him in his element. he talks with so much passion and excitement that you could, and do, listen to him for hours on end.
the night seems to be going perfectly until it's not. the problem? a leggy blonde who's seemed to make it her life's mission to interview your boyfriend. you claim to not be the jealous type, but you can already tell the type of questions she's going to ask by the way she stalks over to him, eyes not so subtly looking him up and down with an exaggerated smile on her face.
"so, drew," she begins, her voice already annoying you, "you're looking very handsome tonight. outer banks season four! what's it like to still be playing the hottest character on the show? you are literally the internet's boyfriend right now."
he's here with you, don't let it get to you are the words that keep repeating in your head as drew politely answers the question, but you know she's attempting to flirt with him.
"what does your family think of the show? i'm assuming they're very proud," her eyes briefly flicker over to you and she turns her attention to you, "you must be such a proud sister, right?"
you scoff, not only at the question but at the condescending way she's talking to you, like you're a child.
"uh... she's not my sister actually." drew chuckles awkwardly, his free hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
her eyebrows raise in surprise before her shrill voice cuts through the air, "oh sorry! well, it's so thoughtful of you to bring your friend to the event."
yes, you've both agreed to not directly make your relationship public, but god did you want to set the record straight. the way her hand kept grabbing his arm throughout the whole interview is making your blood boil.
before you can say anything, the interview continues and she pays you no more attention. drew's patience for this is wearing thin, but he's determined to remain professional, not wanting to go viral for lashing out at someone for doing their job.
"coming back to my earlier point about being the internet's boyfriend, how's the love life? tell us, do you have your own sofia yet or are you still available?" the interviewer asks, playful flirtation coating the words as they leave her lips.
drew's arm unloops from yours and slides around your waist to pull you slightly closer to him. he's not trying to out your relationship, just reminding you he's there.
his eyes narrow slightly in annoyance at the question, "i... uh, well it's my personal life. wanna keep it personal."
"come on, not even an inkling of an answer?" she insists.
you've had enough of this woman and, quite frankly, drew has to. he's ready to walk off but you don't let him, instead moving to face him with your back to her.
"what are you doing?" drew leans down, whispering in your ear.
before you let yourself overthink what you're doing, you grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss. everyone around you is in shock. cameras are all turning toward the two of you, and the fans are screaming even louder now. the kiss isn't a subtle peck or quick goodbye kiss. no, it's a kiss that is telling the world he's yours and no amount of bad flirting will take him away from you.
when you pull back, your cheeks are flushed and drew has a stunned smile on his face. your eyes suddenly widen as the realisation hits you like a train of what you just did, and he can tell that a million thoughts are going through your head.
"hey, stop overthinking it. i'm glad you did it," he starts before whispering, "meant she finally shut up and stopped trying to flirt with me."
relief washes over you and your tense shoulders drop as you let yourself relax. you don't even want to think about the social media reaction right now.
"umm," the interviewer clears her throat, "i guess that answers the question."
you grab drew's hand before looking back at the woman, "i think we're done here."
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks imagine#outer banks imagines#obx#obx season 4#rafe obx#trevor hellraiser#queer#queer drew starkey#poguelandiarafe#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x female reader
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The Other Woman
Pt 1
The doctors and psychologists said itâd be great for your husbandâs well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, thatâs proven true.Â
Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting.Â
That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he âalways liked him reallyâ. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers.Â
You keep reminding yourself of that.Â
Satoru needs this.Â
He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by.Â
Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do.Â
So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?
Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if heâs going out, shocked and annoyed, youâre sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.
All he gets, youâre willing to bet, is the realisation that youâre both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesnât remember signing up for.Â
Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?
It canât be the latter, right?
Because thereâs nothing to be worried about.Â
Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. Thereâs no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like theyâre the only people in here.Â
Heâs laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isnât for you. Itâs for her. The woman he shouldnât be near, the woman he shouldnât even think about, shouldnât let touch his arm.Â
Youâre the wife.Â
Youâve got the ring to prove it.Â
Heâs wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like heâs protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you donât have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other.Â
Thereâs nothing to be done.Â
You canât interrupt.Â
Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says âhey, pretty ladyâ and âgood morning, gorgeousâ to now. Or used to say. Now, youâre lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet.Â
Eventually, the night draws to its natural end.Â
People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he wonât pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what sheâs done. And says itâs âlovely to meet youâ, and of course you canât say it back.Â
Not when you had been introduced by your name, âmy beautiful wifeâ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell.Â
âThis is my girlfrâ Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.â
Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside.Â
âDid you have a good time?â
He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. âIt was nice to see everyone and catch up.â
Youâre thankful he doesnât ask if you enjoyed the evening because you canât lie to him but you also canât tell the truth, canât burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesnât fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him.Â
So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul.Â
âReady to go home?â
Satoru nods.
But heâs looking at a seat in the back.Â
A seat thatâs probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you arenât the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry.Â
Youâre just the woman he did.Â
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KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH
â VI!ONE SHOT â
pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.
KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.
wc. 7k+
rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.
Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasnât. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and sheâs forced to move five steps back. Itâs all she feels, powerless.Â
Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything thatâs been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything sheâs trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she canât afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesnât. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to.Â
Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait.Â
She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime sheâs here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didnât give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk.Â
She lets herself think itâs because youâre a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably donât give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes werenât a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didnât really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldnât see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment.Â
No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what youâre hiding in order to protect yourself.Â
Maybe she is just an asshole.Â
âYou donât have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.âÂ
As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Viâs inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it.Â
âReally? Now you wanna prove a point?âÂ
âFor your information, Iâm always in it to prove a point.âÂ
Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. Thereâs little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isnât like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought.Â
Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants sheâs left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesnât really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. Youâre always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead.Â
This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if sheâll like or not. When sheâs been around you, sheâs been wondering about a lot of things â thoughts she quite literally canât afford.Â
Itâs her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side.Â
Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you donât. Youâre always pulling her out of trouble when you truly donât have to. Itâs not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her.Â
But you do and she canât seem to figure out why.Â
âWhy are you doing this?âÂ
âJust shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.âÂ
âIâm notââÂ
You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. Itâs easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. Itâs an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isnât much left of it but itâs hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you.Â
âLet me help you. Alright?â Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds.Â
Itâs mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but thereâs a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. Itâs not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum.Â
Itâs then, when youâre concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip sheâs sporting; she looks at you. Maybe itâs the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesnât know who she is, that sheâs completely lost on, but Vi sees you.Â
Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind â all attributes she couldnât claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something thatâs always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. Thatâs what sheâs done, she's always been a fighter. Sheâs fallen back on it when needed. Itâs clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, itâs always been about survival.Â
But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her?Â
âThanks.â Vi speaks softly.Â
Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing youâre doing. Itâs sobering to say the least. You donât need to be delicate but you are. Itâs more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, youâre welcome.Â
Itâs the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen.Â
Thereâs something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than youâd let on, which was wellâŚnone. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed youâd rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech.Â
âWhy do you want to help? Itâs not like Iâve exactly beenââÂ
âKind?âÂ
âYeah, something like that.âÂ
This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. Itâs the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes.Â
âYou just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.âÂ
With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, sheâs never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. Sheâs learning more about you, slowly but surely, youâre opening up more. Divulging information you wouldnât have before, trust is earned. Itâs something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it.Â
Regardless of how drunk sheâd been when you said it.Â
Itâs a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you arenât being dismissive tonight but youâre careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. Itâs a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman whoâd also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funnyâŚcertainly was making you laugh all night.Â
Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just donât like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women â just like she is.Â
But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing.Â
âAlright Vi, donât you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?âÂ
âI donât sleep much, itâs better if I donât.âÂ
âKeeps the nightmares away.âÂ
All Vi does is nod.Â
âStory of the century.â You take Viâs empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. âEveryoneâs got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.âÂ
âWhat about yours?âÂ
âIf you wanna hear that, Iâll have to be the one doing the drinking.â You smile but itâs the first one Vi recognizes as insincere.Â
âYeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.âÂ
Viâs silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story.Â
Youâre done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, âCan I ask you something?âÂ
You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if youâre afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. âWhyâd you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?âÂ
You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldnât have really cared about but still she let you clean them.Â
You didnât have to know that. Not yet, anyway.Â
âNo, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they canât even walk home by themselves.â You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. âOr is that what you want me to say?âÂ
âIs it true?âÂ
You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous.Â
Hope.Â
A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, youâll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. Itâs what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didnât just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself.Â
The both of you know itâs a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty.Â
Vi likes you.Â
âYour skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that Iâve ever touched it before but Iâve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.âÂ
Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, sheâs knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit.Â
So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. âI can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.âÂ
âViââ You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law youâre breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it.Â
âItâs Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.âÂ
You chuckle at the pet name.Â
âJust one night. Thatâs it. Just to get it out of our system.âÂ
âOne night, sweets. Itâs all I need.âÂ
âÂ
Itâs how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. Itâs clear Viâs enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasnât nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining.Â
As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders.Â
Itâs not a secret how built she is, far from it, but itâs another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure youâre enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until sheâs commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return youâre seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come.Â
âThatâs it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?â Vi talks you through as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after youâve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before sheâs done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didnât expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object sheâs addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself itâs just a one time thing. It doesnât mean anything, it wonât.Â
Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched â the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love â even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether youâre aware, the wall canât seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, itâs coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her.Â
There isnât an inch of your body Vi didnât kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if sheâs mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didnât ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers.Â
Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. Itâs more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Viâs sucking the digit in your mouth.Â
âI just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.âÂ
As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle.Â
âIâm just a littleââÂ
âSensitive?â Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin. Â
Itâs the lightest sheâs felt in weeks. Almost as if sheâs floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isnât much but sheâll still freely give.Â
Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when itâs just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Viâs fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick thatâs dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer.Â
âWe shouldnât be doing thisââ Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. âWe, um, Vi we said just one night.âÂ
âShut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?â Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. âItâs not like you were complaining last night.âÂ
Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom.Â
All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment.Â
Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, âAre you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.âÂ
The moan you let out would put Aphroditeâs to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before.Â
âOh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?â Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. Sheâs fucking you better than wellâŚanyone.Â
âVi, please.â Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didnât truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didnât seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control.Â
âPlease what? Iâm not sure if I understand you.âÂ
All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. Thatâs the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl.Â
âShit. Youâre gonna pay for this.âÂ
âWhat? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.âÂ
Your hands reach for the counter top, youâre not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. Itâs a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devilâs mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman youâre beginning to love is something else entirely.Â
Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. Itâs more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like sheâs done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, youâre sure of it. Sheâs a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward.Â
With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesnât stop touching you. She canât. There isnât much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. Sheâs good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life.Â
In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy â all of it poisons her blood and cures her core â and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesnât recognize but itâs just as true as the four walls surrounding her.Â
Oil and water.Â
Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. Thereâs a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She canât punch her way out of this one.
All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesnât want to admit it so she doesnât.Â
But this? It feels easy.Â
She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesnât deserve it.Â
Vi definitely doesnât, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. Thereâs no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now.Â
When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Viâs entity. This is what she wants. Thereâs nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. Itâs uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi canât help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, itâs such a pretty sight. She canât stop that sheâs greedy, youâve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but sheâs only human.Â
A sinner always craves more.Â
She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and thereâs pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place.Â
The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches.Â
âFelt good, yeah?â Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldnât make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but youâre even losing your footing.Â
You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you donât need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than youâve ever seen it.Â
Fuck, Vi is making this difficult.Â
âYou could say that.â You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. âCan I ask you something?âÂ
You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didnât leave a burn in her throat.Â
âWhat is it?âÂ
âWas it your first time? The first night?âÂ
Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but youâd see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know.Â
âThat obvious?â Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. âStillwater didnât leave much time for this.âÂ
âAnd after?â You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her.Â
âThere could have been but there wasnât. Some things just donât fit.â Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue.Â
âYou should have told me. I wouldnât have been so, I donât know, selfish?âÂ
âThereâs nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?â This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck.Â
âYeah, I did enjoy myself,â you pressed against her as your arms loop around Viâs necks to bring her closer âbut I think itâs officially my turn to offer my services. Donât you think so?âÂ
Itâs how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed â soaked.Â
If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didnât even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her.Â
Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldnât think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesnât think she ever will.Â
She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake.Â
Vi only allows herself to think of her when sheâs dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means.Â
One night.Â
Then two.Â
Now three.Â
In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesnât want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy â you take it all in such stride.Â
âDo you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.â You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones.Â
âNo, thatâs the last thing I want.â Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. Itâs just you and her. âI want to keep going.âÂ
âThen tell me what you want, baby. Iâll do whatever you want. Itâs yours if you want it.âÂ
Itâs spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and youâre letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed.Â
Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did.Â
âCan youââ Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she canât stop looking at you. As if sheâs trying to remember everything about you. Sheâs committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue.Â
The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It wonât be something she easily forgets.Â
âGotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.âÂ
You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldnât stop it, it slips and youâre grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it.Â
âF-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.â Vi confesses. Thereâs no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you wonât give her what sheâs itching for.Â
âYeah? Are you sure about it? Donât want you backing out just in case you canât be a good girl and take it.âÂ
She can take it but she canât take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? Thatâs all this is. Itâs all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you donât seem to mind all that much. Itâs all the same to you. Vi is all the same, thatâs been clear from the start.Â
Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you.Â
âLet me know if itâs too much, okay?âÂ
âI promise.âÂ
Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once youâre sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt.Â
Sheâs made it yours to take. Youâd do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, itâs the first time sheâs taking penetration and you want it to be good for her.Â
âYouâre so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.â You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Viâs chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. Itâs not like sheâs experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate.Â
She likes how youâre being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought sheâd never want to feel that way, but maybe itâs just under the right circumstance in the right light.Â
âShit, shit, shitâ Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesnât. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy.Â
Sheâs still shy.Â
Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her.Â
âDo you want more Vi? Want me to goâŚfaster?â Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. âDo you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?âÂ
âCan you even do that? Iâm not so sure youâre even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.â Vi bites back. But it doesnât last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror.Â
âFine. Thought Iâd be sweet but that isnât what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, Iâll fuck you like one.â You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror.Â
You know youâve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you.Â
âIâm waiting.â Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. âWhereâs the whore fucking youâre muling about?âÂ
In one move, youâre inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you.Â
Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where sheâs meant to be, just a toy for you to use.Â
But itâs more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, youâd be done after the first night. Tonight, you werenât using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore.Â
âGod, youâre just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take whatâs yours.â Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she canât stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, itâs before she really even realizes what sheâs saying, it just feels right.Â
âMommy, please.âÂ
Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that youâre fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. Itâs only once but itâs enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give.Â
Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself but you donât give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldnât it?
âI want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldnât wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?âÂ
Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. Sheâs close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Viâs done for.Â
âShit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.â Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you.Â
Itâs the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Viâs eyes begin to water from the loss.Â
The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, youâd still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, sheâd enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldnât really ask for much more.Â
When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know thatâll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue.Â
Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. Itâs worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesnât get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now.Â
âI could go again.âÂ
You chuckle. Of course she could.Â
âDonât know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.âÂ
Itâs a challenge and you know sheâll bite the bait.Â
With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if sheâs done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, âI think I can handle another ride, donât you?âÂ
#m'actually kinda proud of this one#i hope y'all like it :')#lmk what you think <3#vi#vi arcane#arcane league of legends#league of legends#vi smut#vi x reader#vi x you#vi arcane x reader#wlw post#wlw fanfiction#lesbian#violet arcane x reader#vi x fem reader#arcane x you#violet arcane
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what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true
*:シďžâ§ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend
jinx x fem!reader | sfw
i love her so much :(
it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.
her entire life, sheâs never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed sheâd end up in one, and sheâs so happy she did!
especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.
the first few times you guys go out together, youâre always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. youâre either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.
she has no complaints. it makes her feel⌠warm. safe. appreciated.
but she doesnât really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.
one day, youâre sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention sheâs working on. you canât remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but youâre nodding like you understand so that sheâll keep talking.
âalright, whatâs the problem? is it something i said?â she asks you suddenly.
you tilt your head. âwhat?â
âdonât play dumb! you havenât touched me at all today!â she grumbles. âyouâre always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? orââ
âjinx.â you cut her off firmly. âstop that. you didnât do anything wrong.â
she looks stumped. so, you continue. âi donât know. itâs just⌠you never do it to *me,* you know? itâs always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didnât really like it. something tells me thatâs not the case.â
your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like sheâs seen a ghost.
she canât believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.
her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, sheâd be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.
in no time, sheâs just as cuddly as you!
each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.
i saw somebody else post something about this, but sheâd definitely be the type to say something like âi wish i could crawl inside youâ. she truly canât get close enough once she learns how good it feels.
and one of many good effects of this is that when sheâs having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.
if it happens to be one of many days where sheâs hearing voices, seeing things that you canât see, berating people who arenât really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. itâs grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.
if itâs one of those days that sheâs just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.
when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so youâre careful to preserve that effectâ you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.
and as for you, if she finds out youâre having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.
if youâre alone, sheâll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, sheâll listen. if you donât, sheâll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.
if youâre in public, sheâll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.
unless itâs somebody in particular thatâs bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.
given how long sheâs gone without any sort of physical affection, itâll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.
sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over whoâs more touchy and who can get the last kiss.
itâs so mushy! she hates it.
(she loves it).
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farm girl- o.piastri
summary: what's a better way to a guys attention than shouting at him for being too slow?
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! clarkson farm, farm-hand!! reader
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You werenât the biggest fan of Jeremyâs reality show, but you enjoyed working the farm, so, as per your agreement, you wouldnât be featured in episodes as much as possible. You were so far removed in fact, that you didnât even know that someone else was driving the tractor when you shouted for them to âstop being shitâ at driving it.Â
âY/n!â Jeremy shouted. âStop being rude!â
âWhat?â you scoffed. âI swear to god, if Finn doesnât fucking speed up Iâm going to-â you started, but stopped yourself when you saw none other than Oscar fucking Piastri in the driverâs seat with an embarrassed and guilty smile on his face. âSorry,â you offered, internally cursing yourself. âContinue on!â you announced before turning back and continuing on with more of your duties.Â
Oscar looked after you as you walked, an amused smile on his face. âWhoâs that?â
âY/n, one of our farmers,â Jeremy explained, a chuckle on his lips. âSheâs⌠fiery.â
âSheâs damn good at her job!â someone from off-camera chimed in, making everyone chuckle.Â
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As his day went on, he caught glimpses of you. You were tending to animals, or showing someone around, or just generally being beautiful and mysterious. He was desperate to know more. He asked a million questions about you, and he was sure everyone was aware of his not-so-secret crush on you.
âYou should ask her out, she likes F1,â Jeremy advised as they sat down to lunch. âYouâre one of her favourite drivers.â
He still got surprised when people knew him, forgetting sometimes that he is, in fact, a public figure. âYeah?â
Jeremy laughed. âYeah,â he scoffed. âKids these daysâŚâ
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When his day of hard labour came to an end, he made it his plan to seek you out, humoring Jeremyâs theory.Â
âHi,â he smiled, standing just behind you.Â
You startled, jumping up from whatever it was that you were doing and cursed. âFucking hell! Announce yourself!â You let it slip before you could really stop yourself, but you didnât feel all that bad, he should have announced himself.Â
He laughed. âWhat did you think I was trying to do?!â
âScare the shit out of me?â you scoffed. âI donât know.â
âIâm Oscar,â he held out his hand to be shaken. âNice to meet you.â
You took his hand,shaking it quickly. âY/n. Sorry about the wholeâŚÂ tractor thing.â
âNothing but a bruised ego,â he chuckled. âSo what do you do around here?â
You shrugged. âA bit of everything, I guess.â
He nodded, and you both stood in silence for a minute.Â
âDid you need something?â you questioned. â-Not to be rude, or anything, I just⌠I've got to get back to the rest of my stuff so⌠yeah.â
He smiled, enjoying the fact that you were as awkward as him. âCan I get your number?â
You stared at him for a second, then you broke out into one of the most beautiful smiles heâd ever seen. âWhy?â
He stepped closer to you. âI think youâre really pretty,â he explained. âAnd I want to get to know you more.âÂ
You nodded. âGive me your phone.â
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?
Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?
Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.
Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.
Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?
Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????
Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.
I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.
Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.
Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.
My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.
That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.
Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.
And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.
The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.
And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.
I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.
What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.
Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.
None of that gets any meaningful resolution.
I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.
I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.
That's all I have to say about that.
#arcane#arcane finale#arcane season 2#arcane spoilers#arcane s2#viktor arcane#jayce talis#jayce x viktor#jayvik#caitvi#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane
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hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
ăVI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
ăEKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
ăJINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi x reader#vi#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko x reader#ekko
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Hello! Thank you for feeding us the angstier timeline of the dukedom au!! I live for angst
You donât have to entertain this thought ofc, the angst and how good you write for my brain worms worming. I just canât stop thinking about what wouldâve happened if KĂśnig wasnât there and instead the duchess had to suffer all on her own
(Or better yet, if he was there but ended up also leaving the duchess for someone else or was killed protecting the duchess)
Reader having to endure everything on her own which eventually leads her to falling terribly ill and in the olden times we all know how a simple cold could turn into more and yield deadly results
The stress combined with the overall lack of appetite (and the food not cooked well at times to add to that⌠more angst (: ) as well as other factors rendered the reader terribly ill
Maybe she fell into a body of water and had to save herself, or maybe she was caught up in a rainy storm on a walk with no one offering her warm clothing or a cover up until she eventually managed to get back that leads to pneumonia
Maybe she gets injured but hides it until the blood loss gets to her and infection sets in
Just so many options and flavours of angst
Anyway, thank you for sharing your writing with us! Agin, you donât have to engage with this, so please donât feel pressured!! Iâm just having many thoughts and am currently going feral /pos
WAITTT WAIT I LOVE THIS
Because imagine clinging to KĂśnig, to your one singular source of comfort in a manor that has no room for you, and in the end, he leaves as well.
You had been telling yourself that you had been simply more imaginative lately; KĂśnig was simply busy, he wasnât growing more and more distant! The way he looks at you now compard to before hasnât changed. At all. His responses were in hums and nods, noncommittal but thatâs okay, sometimes you did not feel like speaking- like existing- either.
Until he stands in your office, the light from the windows reflecting off his armour. You had been happy to see him, a smile on your lips to be in the company of the only one who didnât seem to despise you.
When he tells you that he will not be doing this anymore, it feels, for a very split second, like your heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces. You can feel the shattering of each, single piece.
Better place. He says, pity in his eyes but no regret. He pauses for a second. I wish⌠the best for you.
KĂśnig leaves you like that; staring after his back in abject horror. Every step he takes echoes in your ears, until you are left alone in your office, hands trembling, and your ears ringing.
After that day, everything practically crumbled. You crumbled.
Without him, the weight of your isolation became unbearable. The disdain of the household grew sharper once it became known your only solace was no longer there, the whispers more cutting. Meals came cold, uneaten. Sleep eluded you, and the constant stress gnawed away at your strength.
One fateful day, you went outside in a desperate bid to escape the suffocation. The air was crisp, the sky gray with the promise of rain, and yet you still did not turn back. You wandered farther than you intended, your steps aimless even as the first drops began to fall.
The storm came quickly afterwards, drenching you to the bone. Your thin cloak offered little protection, and the chill seeped deep into your skin. By the time you returned, trembling and soaked, no one was waiting to help you. No fire had been lit in your chambers; no warm blanket was offered, and no company was given.
The fever began that very night, burning through you with a strength that left you bedridden. Days passed in a haze of pain and delirium. The wound you had hidden- an injury from your fall in the storm- festered, the infection spreading rapidly through your weakened body. You hadnât the strength to call for help, nor the faith that anyone would come even if you did hoarse out your voice in your attempts.
Only when your condition worsened and you really, truly disappeared out of view, the household finally took notice. Whispers swirled, faint echoes beyond the fog of your fading consciousness, and everyone became alert of your absence, meals returned untouched and maids reporting itâs weeks since theyâd helped you with anything.
John sat in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey as the fire crackled in the hearth. He told himself your absence didnât matter- that you were retreating because youâd finally realized the truth. But when he closed his eyes, he saw your face as it had been on your wedding day- hopeful, trusting, and unaware of the coldness that would greet you.
Simon found himself pacing the halls around your room more often than usual. He would glance toward your chambers but never step inside, convincing himself it wasnât his concern. And yet, something about the silence unsettled him.
Johnny had begun to notice the meals sent to your chambers were left untouched, the plates returned barely touched or sometimes not taken at all. He hadnât cared at first, dismissing it as you sulking because no one was giving you attention. But now the thought lingered- had you even been eating at all?
Even Kyle, with his sharp tongue and sharper gaze, felt the unease creeping in. He found himself hesitating when passing your door, his usual indifference cracking as guilt gnawed at him.
In the end, itâs Kyle who couldnât stand the silence anymore. He stepped into your room, telling himself it was simply to prove to himself that you were fine and just- sulking.
The sight stopped him cold.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the air heavy with the faint, sour scent of illness. You lay motionless on the bed, your body shockingly frail, your skin damp with fever. Your hair clung to your forehead, and your breathing was shallow, each breath rattling in your chest.
You didnât even notice him. Not even when he turned around and barked sharply for John, for a doctor now. You didnât notice him at all. Not him, not John or Simon or Johnny when they appear while the maids run to get the doctor.
(Kyle will never tell anyone how utterly sick he felt upon seeing the dried tear-tracks on your face. The unfinished, rotten meals near the bed. The tear spots on your pillows. He will never, ever forget today. He doubts any of the others will be able to do so, either.)
#noona.asks#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#cod imagine
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oh my god i don't even know where to begin to describe how devastating this was, but in the absolute best way possible
If it werenât for love, you wouldnât be here. No one would, actually. Human beings are the result of billions of people who loved each other just enoughâor at least long enough to bring life into the world.
In a Jane Austen novel, youâd be considered a lone woman. That character whoâs nice, and kind, and loved by some, but not in the way she yearns for. Every time sheâs mentioned, you go âOh, the poor girl,â until the slow realization dawns.
âItâs not about waiting as if my lifeâs on pause. Iâve been with other people. But in the end, I want to choose him.â
i don't think i've ever related to a fic as much as i did with this - the longing, the loneliness is painful, but holding onto hope that my soulmate is out there makes it worth it
The funny thing is, just a door away, Loganâs watching a movie with Wade when he feels a sting in the tips of his fingers.
oh my god the smile i had on my face when i read this part.....i just KNEW something like this would happen, that evidence of a soulmate would show up on logan
âSpeak for yourself. I donât have a soulmate.â His tone is biting, but you donât miss the undercurrent of longing in his words. âBut if in any other universe I do, I hope itâs you.â
and this part tore my heart out - "i hope it's you" GOD i lost it
i could add like 10000 more quotes here but i'd end up rambling for ages because this is easily one of the best fics i've read in my life, thank you so much for writing this
âepiphanyâ | 21k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: Superheroes and mutants werenât enough. Noâthe universe had to throw in soulmates who share scars. Fantastic, right? Except yours had vanished, only to mysteriously reappear with the arrival of a new face: the âWorstâ Logan Howlett, fresh from another earth.
OR What happens when a hopeless romantic crosses paths with the ultimate soulmate skeptic?
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ strangers to lovers. drinking. cursing. slow burn. angst. pining. mentions of alcohol. fluff. reflecting on the art of writing/poems/books. dual POV. takes place after the events of âdeadpool & wolverineâ. TW: multiple descriptions of scars. worst/variant!logan. implied age gap (readerâs in her late 20s). theyâre both touch starved. wadeâs everyoneâs friend. miscommunication/misunderstandings. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering, grinding. some slight hair pulling. unprotected p in v, creampie. sex with feelings.
A/N: HOPELESS ROMANTICS RISE! here we go again with another long ass fic. this is a soulmates AU in which you get your soulmateâs scars. if you feel triggered by this topic, please refrain from reading. i had a lot of fun writing this even though it took me a while to get it done. thanks to @lubdubology for being my beta and allowing me to share my work with you. and also thanks to @brushworth for giving me the chance to write this. having said this, enjoy the story! iâd love to know your thoughts on it <3
Love giveth and love taketh away.
To this day, itâs still hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that love is what humans both strive and die for.
If it werenât for love, you wouldnât be here. No one would, actually. Human beings are the result of billions of people who loved each other just enoughâor at least long enough to bring life into the world.
But isnât it in the name of love that people act in bad faith? Why would something so pure be used in vain?
You donât get it, but as the years go by, you slowly come to terms with the idea that perhaps you never will. Not because there isnât a reason, but because youâre in love with the idea of love.
How could you not be? Itâs on the streets, on the bus, at work. Everywhere you go, every place you attempt to set foot in, there it is. Love is dressed up in an expensive silk robe, a ribbon tied neatly on top of it. You reach closer, trying to unravel it, though it's pointless. The moment love sees youâtruly sees your longing for itâit flees, and you struggle to keep up.
Love runs faster than anyone, hiding within the bushes, counting the seconds until its next appearance.
It had always been a relentless race, your only worry being to catch it before time ran out. But with each day that passed, the finish line only stretched further and further away. Now, they all blur together, to the point where you live and breathe on autopilot.Â
In a Jane Austen novel, youâd be considered a lone woman. That character whoâs nice, and kind, and loved by some, but not in the way she yearns for. Every time sheâs mentioned, you go âOh, the poor girl,â until the slow realization dawns.
In reality, sheâs you, and itâs you who you feel sorry for, not a fictional character. You.
All in all, love giveth. And love also taketh away.Â
Love maketh you miserable.
Soulmatesâa nine-letter word that holds so much meaning.
Itâs one of those words that you learn early in your life, one you hear at home or on the TV. Your parents never fail to mention it if given the chance. The first time youâre introduced to the topic is at school when you're older, a bit more self-conscious, and no longer preoccupied with picking your nose.
âEverybody has a soulmate. And no,â your teacher had added after a pause, already anticipating the inevitable questions from any curious 10-year-old, âthere isnât such a thing as not having one. We all do. You just have to search for them.â
Back then, that had been your favorite gameâalways keeping an eye open, scanning the crowd more than once in new places. You knew for sure that more than one person probably thought youâd strained your neck from all the times you glanced over your shoulder.
It must be pretty obvious now, the fact that youâreâwell, alone. Saying âwithout a companionâ sounds quite outdated. They canât see through you, but something in the way you walk or speak must give it away.Â
Or is it the fact that you always ask for a table for one?
âAre you expecting someone else?â A waitress approaches you, her tone gentle as she makes sure youâre on your own. A small notebook dangles from her slender fingers, and your eyes catch the name stitched onto her apron: Emily.
The response you give her is on the verge of sounding automatic, robotic even, like one of those prerecorded messages busy people leave on their phones. âNo. Just me.â
She nods, and you feel the sympathy in her gaze. Youâve mastered the art of recognizing that lookâthe one hovering between concern and pity.
Of course, people rarely voice it, but theyâll never know their eyes sometimes say more than they think.
As she jots down your order, youâre met with the ring on her left hand. Very pretty, very shiny. Very expensive as well. Your attention must linger on it a little too long, because she catches you staring, making you feel exposed.
Emilyâyou decide to call her that way from now on, because once you know her name, it feels odd to address her as the waitressâoffers you a shy smile.
âIâm getting married next month,â she blurts out, happiness radiating from her pores. Her eyes glint like two lanterns in a starless night. She also looks younger than you, and the abrupt silence forces you to pinch your wrist, a reminder of the fact that this is a conversation, and not just something you're overhearing.
âCongratulations,â you manage to reply, returning the smile. If she saw how your expression faltered the second she walked away, you wonder if sheâd still think you were so amiable.
Sometimes, your façade slipsâyou canât help it. Thatâs what the âhopelessâ in âhopeless romanticâ stands for.
Some minutes later, she comes back with your coffee, and you catch another glimpse of the ring as it twinkles in front of you. Envy doesnât suit you, so you shift your focus.
Taking out your laptop, you scroll through the latest headlines. This is your attempt at acting more like an adult and less like a girl in her mid-twenties who has no clue what sheâs doing.
One article stands out from the rest: Hollywood Actress Divorces Loving Husband of 25 Years to Pursue Presumed Soulmate. âI saw his scars and knew he was the one.â
Interesting. You canât help but feel sorry for the displaced husband, though.
âGood for you,â you mutter under your breath, clicking the link to read more. Thereâs a picture of the actress and her new boyfriend that makes you stop dead in your tracks: theyâre smiling at each other, their faces close, noses almost touching, while they show off their matching scarsâthe unmistakable sign that theyâre, in fact, soulmates.
Soulmates, superheroes, mutants. It all sounds like a whole lot, doesnât it? Overwhelming, to say the least. One thingâs for sureâyouâll never get bored in this world.
But, hey! Donât forget that there are multiple universes out there. Maybe in one of them, youâre not this pathetic.
Why are you being so hard on yourself? Thatâs not even the point. Shaking your head, you keep glancing at their scarsâtheyâre identical, perfect mirrors of one another. The kind of scars that only two destined souls share.
Their happiness is evident, tangible. You can feel it by just eyeing the image. Itâs a bitter sensation that metamorphoses into a warmth, which heavily spreads through your chest, filling up every empty space it finds.Â
To say you understand that feeling would be a downright lie. And you may be many things, but a pathological liar is not one of them.
As if on cue, you duck your head, rolling up the sleeves of your jacket. You do the same with your shirt, foolishly hoping to find something other than smooth, unmarked skin.
No scars. No marks. No sign of a soulmate, of a lover. In the world you inhabitâthis universe full of the most inexplicable thingsâyouâre alone.Â
Without a second thought, you pack your things, shoving them rapidly into your bag. The cafe feels too little and too large all at once, the walls closing on you.
The rest of the customers are looking at you. Fuck, they already noticed itâyou canât escape it.
Have they? Do you think they see you like you see yourself? The lone woman who writes poems for an addressee who will never read them?
In silence, you hand Emily the money for your coffee. You fear that if you open your mouth, a cry will come out, and thatâs the last thing you need today. She gives you that look againâpity laced with sorrow, the one you despise. It burns.
At that moment, a man walks in, passing right by you. You see his face, his green eyes, and the way his lips curl into a grin as he greets Emily.
The scar on her forehead, which you'd missed before, mirrors the one on his.
They are soulmates.Â
Itâs on the streets, on the bus, at work. Everywhere you go, every place you attempt to set foot in, there it is.
She wishes you a nice morning as you leave the cafe. Little does she know youâll spend the rest of the day locked in your apartment, mourning someone you never even met.
Until the day you lost them, you wore your scars with pride.
They were scattered across your stomach, back, chest, and even your legs and arms. Some were shallow, others deep. It never occurred to youâthe thought that they belonged in the shadows, hidden.
Everyone has them, you thought as you stood in front of the mirror, running your fingers along their jagged paths. I just seem to have more than most people.
Over the years, you might have changed your hairstyle or the way you dressed, but your scars never didâtheyâd always been there, and they were yours.
Partly yours, of course, since you knew they belonged to your soulmate as well.
The older you grew, the more you realized having a good memory was both a gift and a curse. You still remembered that moment so vividlyâwhen you found out that somebody out there was meant for you and only you.
A point of no return, thatâs what itâd been. From that day on, not a single one went by without you imagining the first encounter with your Prince Charming.Â
In the meantime, you dated. A few boyfriends came and went during and after high school, mostly as practice for the real thing, youâd told yourself.
God, you were determined to know everything. To be the best girlfriend ever, so that when you finally met him, heâd be over the moon.
At the age of seventeen, it sounded like a brilliant plan.
You never knew how, but your life became that meantime. All your friends began to find their soulmates: in the supermarket, while traveling, at the goddamn doctorâs office.
Everybody was fulfilling the purpose youâd been taught humans were made forâeveryone but you.
The scars multiplied, yet he was nowhere to be seen, remaining out of reach. Your soulmateâs whereabouts were a mystery. What the hell does he do in his free time? was something you used to often ponder. Is he suffering? Does he need help?
âBe patient, give it some time. The less you seek, the more youâll find,â your mother would say, trying to sound encouraging. Although she was trying to do her best, that phrase alone had the power to make you go nuts.
Be patient? Waiting was all youâd been doing. What was so wrong with you that he seemed to be hiding from you? You didnât want to wait any longer, noâyou wanted to find him. If it meant traveling to Italy like your cousin had to meet her husband, then so fucking be it.
Many nights, sleep eluded you. Lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling, youâd imagine what life with him would be like. What he would look like. You were certain that no matter his appearance, youâd think he was beautiful.
Wasnât that the whole point of soulmatesâthat the bond you two shared transcended physical attraction?
Nevertheless, you secretly wished heâd have brown hair. He didnât need to know, but you had a weakness for brunettes.
On the night of your twenty-second birthday, you were getting ready for the big event when every trace of your scars disappeared.
The bathroom mirror was fogged from the showerâs stream, and as you wiped it clean with the palm of your hand, the image you saw reflected on the glass made your stomach do a flip.
There were no scars. No marks. Nothing. At first, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on youâit couldnât be. Scars didnât just vanish. It was impossible.
But as you lowered your gaze, tracing your limbs again and again, the truth hit you. The marks you knew by heart, the ones that reminded you, Heâs out there, somewhere, were gone.
You felt it deep in your chest, too. Every sound seemed louder and clearer: the blood rushing through your veins, each shaky breath you took. Where are they? Your fingers dug into your flesh, intending to ground yourself.
Is he⌠dead? It was the only reasonable explanation, the rule youâd known all along. Youâd read it countless times, memorizing the principles about scars.
The scream that tore from your throat brought your mother running upstairs, and she entered the bathroom with a horrified expression on her face.
âWhatâs wrong? Are you hurt?â she asked, but your mind was already far away. Your whole body shuddered in her arms, a sob slipping past your lips as you crumbled to the floor, desperately hoping it was all a nightmare. âIt must be a mistake, honey. Iâm sure heâs okay.â
But heâs not, you wanted to tell her. The words, however, never formedâonly a broken whimper escaped your lips. Isnât that what we were taught? Our scars belong to our soulmates; they bind us to them in a way that simple words canât explain.
It goes deeper than the skin. It delves into our bodies, our minds, reaching into the very essence of who we are. What was once his is also mine, but theyâre gone.
Heâs gone. He must be, because otherwise, how would you explain this void?
When oneâs soulmate passes away, that person will notice the disappearance of their scars. The physical marks that once symbolized their connection fade, leaving no trace. This absence is accompanied by a distinct, unsettling sensationâan awareness of loss that goes beyond the physical, signaling the end of the bond.
A part of you died with him that day.
The first time you exchanged words with Wade Wilson, you thought he was a total dick.
It wasnât as if you didnât know himânot when he was so infamous for that mouth of his. Deadpool: the self-proclaimed superhero with a vocabulary that was 90% profanity, who made cracking jokes while fighting the bad guys look easy.
Super funny? Sure. But not exactly your cup of tea when all you wanted was to crawl into bed and forget the world existed.
He was apparently long retired from superheroing. No one had seen that red, sex-toy-looking suit in ages, which was why you were only mildly surprised as you spotted him hauling boxes into your building on a Tuesday afternoon.
It was late, and you werenât in the mood for small talk. Heâd been there barely a week, yet somehow, heâd already managed to fuck things up.Â
You let out a deep sigh, rubbing the crease between your brows. âLook, Wallyââ
âItâs pronounced Wade,â he corrected you, trying to edge his face further into the gap between the door and its frame, though you didnât let your guard down. âYouâre pretty rude, you know that?â
âIâve been up for twenty-four hours, and I need to sleep,â you groaned, trying to push him away with one hand. Technically, he wasnât even asking for something that complicatedâhe wanted to use your microwave to heat his dinner, since his had decided to stop working out of the blue.
The thing was that youâd had the kind of week that felt like a one-way trip to hell, an important detail he wasnât aware of. âGo ask someone else. I canât do charity tonight.â
âYouâre the only one who answered,â he said, pressing his palms together in a pleading gesture, his lips curling into a heartbreaking pout. âPlease, my lovely neighbor, whose name I donât know. You wouldnât want me to starve to death, would you?
âI thought you couldnât die.â You raised an eyebrow, half-interested.
Wadeâs arms dropped to his sides, his eyes drifting downward. âAnd I thought kindness wasnât extinct, but here we are.â He spun on his heel, acting defeated and dragging his feet like a scolded puppy. âCanât believe this is what the worldâs come to. Iâm sure the Bible says something about treating others how youâd want to be treated.â
Why. Just⌠why? Some cosmic, divine force from beyond might have been testing you that night.
âWait,â you croaked just as he was about to step into his apartmentâwhich was literally three meters from yours. His face lit up, expecting you to continue, and you moved aside slightly, signaling him in. âFive minutes and youâre out, okay? I really need to get some rest.â
The rest was history. Wade was just standing there, mesmerized by your microwave as if heâd never seen one before.
You could only hear the faint buzzing sound of the gadget, punctuated by the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the counter. He was humming a tune while shaking his head to the beat.
You tried to focus, replaying the guided meditation you sometimes followed to sleep in your mind.
Allow yourself to feel the stillness of this moment. Notice your breath slowing as your body begins to calm. Be the observer of your breath, flowing in and out naturally, as your lungsâ
Yeah, it wasnât working.
âPlease, stop it,â you eventually told Wade, whose gaze shifted from the microwave to you, brows furrowed.
âAnd whyâs that?â
âThey say itâs bad for your eyes,â you explained, recalling a half-forgotten news report youâd heard on the TV. Whether it was a myth or not, youâd never know. âI believe itâs because of the radiation exposure.â
Leaning back on the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest. âAt this point, I think Iâm safe. You, on the other hand⌠maybe not so much,â he nearly whispered that last part, and your desire to strangle him grew stronger.
Save me, mindfulness, you thought to yourself.
He jerked his thumb toward the pile of papers and books you had on your kitchen table. âSo, youâre a writer?âÂ
âEditor, in reality,â you snapped, your eyelids twitching as you watched him leaf through your stuff. âWade, donât touch my things.â
âSorry, canât help myself. Iâm very curious.â Flashing you a quick grin, he opened your notebook, squinting his eyes as he went through the pages. âBut you write too, huh? Iâm discovering plenty of material here.â
The bastard. âGive. It. Back,â you snarled, lunging at him and trying to snatch the notebook from his hands, but he was faster, raising it out of reach. âI hope your food explodes in that microwave, asshole.â
âOh, right. I forgot about it,â he snorted, tossing the notebook onto the couch and retrieving his dinner instead. You stared at him in disbelief, opening your mouth to scold him, but nothing came out. Then, there he was, standing in front of you with his plate and a fork.
Wait. Was that your fork?
âItâs hot, Iâll give you that.â He blew on his food to cool it down, and as he glanced up, he was met with your murderous glare. âWhoa. Want some? You couldâve just asked me. No need to get so angry.â
Calling it a desire to kill him wouldâve been an understatement. And the worst part? He couldnât die. âYouâve got what you needed. Now, can you leave?â
âHow longâs it been since you talked to another human being?â
You blinked, feeling the sudden urge to look around, half expecting a hidden camera. âWhy do you always answer with another question?â
âAll Iâm saying is Iâve been meaning to talk to you for days now, but youâre practically living the hermit life,â he said between bites of chicken, excusing himself briefly to chew. âThat robe youâre wearing? Itâs had the same stain on it since I moved in. Also, your doormatâs buried under a mountain of newspapers, so either you really love trees, or youâve been avoiding any sort of social interaction.â
If he had been wrong, you wouldâve felt much better. But he⌠wasnât, and it sucked.
âI feel like I should be scared,â you mumbled after a long stretch of silence, your eyes going round.
Wade did no more than laugh at your troubled expression. âScared of me? Thatâs cute. Iâm a nice guy, sweet pea. Persistent, sure, but Iâve got a knack for getting under peopleâs skin,â he said, grinning through a mouthful of foodâwhich, for the sake of your sanity, you chose to ignore.
After he had finished eating, he let the fork fall into the sink, the metal striking against the surface with a piercing echo, making you jump. He stretched his arms with a satisfied yawn, and he seemed determined to leave you alone. âWell, Iâve done my good deed for the day.â
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, following his movements as he ambled toward the door. âAre you telling me your microwave does work?â
âOh, youâre a smart one, arenât you?â Wade patted your head, ruffling your hair like you were a puppy who had just learned a new trick. âGood night, peanut.â
From that moment on, the two of you became inseparable. Your personalities clicked in a way youâd never experienced before with any other friend. Wade was loyal to a fault, and he treated you like the little sister he had never had.Â
Most importantly, he didnât pity youâhe saw you for who you were, not just someone marked by a lost soulmate. You never told him how much that meant to you, but deep down, you were grateful.
Which brings you to the present day. Youâve been friends with him for over a year, and heâs taken every chance to introduce you to his âweird but lovableâ (his words, not yours) group of friends.
âCheck your social anxiety at the door, thank you,â heâd tell you every time he hosted a get-together and you were invited.
Somehow, you had managed to bond with themâespecially Althea, his elderly roommate, who occasionally forgets who you are despite living next door.
âRemind me of your name again, sweetie? All this disco dust must be affecting my memory,â sheâd ask, leaning in close so youâd practically have to shout it into her ear. Then sheâd nod, smirking knowingly. âAh, yes. I thought so. Just making sure.â
Sheâs quite the character. A real sweetheart if you leave aside the number of times sheâs offered you more types of drugs than you knew existed.
Tonight, youâre throwing Wade a surprise birthday party. Among all the party tasks, youâve handled the decorations and the cake. The roomâs a riot of color, with balloons floating lazily from the ceiling and a cascade of streamers draping over the furniture.
Guests start arriving, greeting you warmly, a feeling you once thought impossible. Theyâre Wadeâs friends, sure, but on some level, you like to think theyâre your friends now too: Vanessa, Dopinder, Buck, Shatterstar, Colossus, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and Yukio.
As you hear footsteps approaching the door, Wadeâs voice filters through the hallway. Panicking, you whirl around to the group. âHeâs here! Everyone shut up!â you whisper urgently, turning off the lights and pressing your back flat against the wall next to the door.
Seconds later, the sound of keys jingling fills the air as both Wade and Peter step into the apartment.
You flip the lights back on just as Dopinder pops his much-anticipated party popper. âSurprise!â you all scream in unison, and Wadeâs face splits into a grin, unsure of whom to hug first.
âYou guys are lucky Iâm not armed,â he quips, slinging an arm around Dopinderâs shoulders. âSix years ago, youâd all be dead!â
And you giggle, because⌠well, what else are you supposed to do?
As you expected, the night unfolds smoothly. Youâre having fun, engaging in conversations despite yesterdayâs emotional meltdown at the cafe. Itâll be okayâit always is. The food is amazing, the company even better. You remind yourself that romantic love isnât the only kind that mattersâthatâs what friends are for, after all, to teach you that lesson.
The low hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses, creating a lively symphony that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Yukio calls your name, waving her head in front of your eyes, trying to snap you out of your thoughts. âEverything okay?â she wonders, concern flickering in her voice.
âYeah, Iâm fine,â you reply, tightening your grip on your beer bottle. âJust thinking, thatâs all.â
You all gather around the cake when Wadeâs about to blow the candles. You know heâs preparing himself for a speech. âAnother year of spinning around the moon, huh?â
âSun, you dumbass,â Al corrects him, and you have to bite your lip to keep your laughter to yourself.
âOkay, flat-earther,â Wade shoots back, giving her a playful side-eye. âAnyway, where was I? Oh, rightâI canât thank you all enough for being here. These past few years have been... well, rough on me, to say the least,â he says, glancing down at the cake with a small, crooked smile. âBut Iâm happy now. Weâve got each otherâs back, like a team!â
âLike The Avengers, you mean?â Dopinder pipes up, eyes sparkling with excitement. Thereâs a moment of silence in which you swear youâd be able to hear a hairpin drop.
Itâs still a sensitive topic.
âNext time, give me a trigger warning before you mention them,â Wade mutters in a hushed tone, and Dopinder shrinks sheepishly. âI guess what I wanted to tell you wasâŚâ he trails off, his palm covering the place where his heart is, âthat I'm glad youâre all here. Being surrounded by the people I love most is the best birthday gift ever.â
His words stir something inside you. Vanessa gently nudges his arm, smiling up at him. âWhy donât you make your wish?â
Wade dramatically drops to his knees in front of the cake, eyes fluttering shut before blowing out the candles, whistles and cheers erupting all around.
Just then, you hear the unmistakable sound of the doorbell ringing through the air. You exchange a curious glance with Wade, raising your eyebrows. âThatâs weird. Want me to get it?â
âNah, I got it,â he says, excusing himself to answer the door. He slips outside, shutting it behind him, and everything returns to normal. For a while, you assume heâs chatting with someone who dropped by to say hiâbut that doesnât really make sense.
âDonât you think itâs weird that heâs been out there so long?â Vanessa inquires, her worry starting to creep in.
âIâll go check on him,â you tell her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before heading to the door.
But when you open it, thereâs no Wade in sight. Just⌠his toupeeâor âhair systemâ as he insists on calling it, lying on the floor.
Kneeling down, you gingerly pick it up, a strange sensation settling in your chest.
Where the hell did he go?
After his existence went downhill, Logan turned to prayer.
Completely out of character, right? He thought so too. The number of times he'd stepped foot inside a church could be counted on one hand, so why would a man like him resort to religion?
In the past, he had been told he was part of Godâs plan, but somewhere along the way, he felt like he had become Godâs mistake.
After living a life plagued with loss and constantly in hiding, he wasnât shocked that his self-worth was in the gutter.
Things only spiraled after letting everyone down, especially after that particular day when things took a turn for the worse. He had prayed, asking God to make him forget.
When that didnât work, he just drank harder and smoked more. But not even drowning in alcohol and clouds of nicotine could put an end to his strugglesâhe was condemned to suffer.
In spite of everyoneâs wishes, heâs still going strong, stuck with no defined purpose. Itâs almost impossible not to fall into a routine that seeks to numb him, to put him under anesthesiaâwaking up after passing out who-knows-where, finding the nearest bar, sinking into whiskey and the haze of ashtrays.
Then he does it all over again, a never-ending cycle. His self-destructive habits donât lead him to oblivion; instead, they intensify every sensation, making each memory and emotion painfully vivid.Â
Day after day, he convinces himself heâs got it under control. Logan may be tough as fuck, and he may heal faster than anyone else, but his pride is in pieces.
No amount of strength or supernatural abilities can stop the decay he feels inside, the slow rot creeping deeper within him the longer he remains trapped in this life.
He slams the empty glass onto the counter with a heavy thud, tapping two fingers against it. âAgain,â he murmurs, his voice low and rough.
The bartender looks at him like he's the reincarnation of all things vile. âI told youâyouâre not welcome here. Youâre not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.â
Oh, yes. Music to his ears. If he had a nickel for every time he heard that, heâd be rich. âJust give me one more drink and then Iâll leave.â
âThatâs not how it works,â the bartender replies, and Logan knows heâs screwed. Another public establishment heâs been banned fromâfucking perfect.
Will there ever be a day where heâs not treated like garbage?
âIt does now,â an unknown voice joins the conversation, and Logan glances to his side, arching a brow. The masked man doesnât let his stare falter. âLeave the bottle.â
âDo I know you, bub?âÂ
âYou donât, but I know you.â
This serves as evidence of how pliant heâs become. Years ago, he wouldâve already wiped the floor with this guy. They didnât call him Logan âshort fuseâ Howlett for nothing. But now? He just canât bring himself to do it.
âEverybody does. Iâm theââ
Here it comes, the reminder of his personal calvary.
ââWolverine.â Once he finishes the sentence, his words taste bitter. Perhaps itâs the venom on his tongue, or maybe itâs just the alcohol from yesterday kicking him again. Either way, both hit hard.
âYes, you are,â the stranger says, continuing to stare at him, as if Loganâs worth the effort. âAnd Iâm going to need you to come with me. Right now.â
Logan holds his breath. The worst part of it all is that his dayâs just getting started. He has no clue who this guy is or why heâs claiming to need him.
But heâs got the wrong manâLogan doesnât know him, and he sure as hell doesnât have anything good to offer.
Or so he believed five minutes ago. Life seems to have its own way of surprising him.
Knowing heâll regret it later, he closes his fingers around the whiskey bottle, chugging the liquor until darkness takes over his senses.
Nighty-night, Logan.
I'm aware that you're not mine, and nor will you ever be.
Iâve spent sleepless nights trying to figure out
where this need to call you mine stems from.Â
You're like an antique, a rare piece displayed
in a crowded bazaar, drawing curious glances.
Iâm aware that you're not mine
because I haven't bought you yet;
I hold no claim over you,
nor can I control who touches you and who doesn't.
I want you to be mine,
but no amount of money would buy your soul.
You're beyond reachâsomeone has already marked you.
Iâm aware that youâre not mine,Â
and I guess maybe thatâs how life is meant to be.
âBullshit,â you mutter softly into the quiet of your apartment, where the only sound is the echo of your own voice.
Chewing the end of your pen, your eyes narrow as they skim over the poem youâd written over a month ago.
Since then, youâve been working on refining the details, but something is missingâthat you can feel. The flow is awkward, the choice of words stiff. Itâs like a puzzle that doesnât quite fit together.Â
You take a long sip from your coffee, tucking both knees up onto the chair you're sitting in. 7:30 a.m., and already, your mind is spinning, diving headfirst into a poem when countless other things are demanding your attentionâlike, a hundred things, really.
Right now, cracking this piece feels more important than any other task on your list.
Who do you write to? That part is easyâyour soulmate. That deceased, probably buried, long-gone soulmate of yours.
It shouldnât be funny, but thereâs an absurdity to it.
Without warning, a memory slips into your thoughtsâone girl you used to work with once advising you to change the subject of your writing.
âYou should go for some self-love crap. People usually eat that up,â she said, not even bothering to look up from her nails, red polish smeared over the edges.
Her fingers were a mess, coated in that fiery hue, but she didnât seem to care as she tapped your notebook with her lacquered index finger. âThis is repetitive. Keep writing about the same thing, and people will get bored of you.â
âI havenât published them yet,â you answered, your voice coming out more high-pitched than usual, betraying the doubt you intended to suppress. Her blue eyes flicked up, studying your face as you slid the now red-stained notebook back into your bag, away from her careless, messy fingers. âI thought⌠I thought we were supposed to write about what we feel passionate about.â
That managed to catch her attention. Passionate. She let out a laughâsharp and cold, like something straight out of a villainâs script in a childrenâs movie. It grated against your ears.
âSweetie, you call that passionate?â She waved her hand dismissively, standing up from the table.
Taller, older, and more secureâjust the fact that she gave you her time shouldâve made you feel grateful. âNot to be a bitch, but what you showed me is kind of depressing.âÂ
Kind of depressing. From that moment on, you kind of hated her. Small victories, thoughâthe agency fired her a year later. You like to think you kind of won that battle.
Still, she mightâve been right about one thing: your writing does fall into patterns. Itâs predictable, to say the leastâthe rhythm, the themes. Even the metaphors you include can be found in several of your poems.
Are you⌠lazy? Has someone revealed the way to break out of it? If there is, you figure you're fine without it.
You donât want to write the kind of articles sheâd churn out about the latest trends or the five best positions to get pregnant faster. Nor do you want to pick apart celebrities' lives for a flashy headline.
What you do want is to write about love. Real love. Even if you are not the most qualified person to do it. Even if nobody wants to read the words from someone who has never experienced it in the flesh.
And youâll get thereâhow? Youâre still figuring that out.
As long as you live and breathe, love will remain in your thoughts, haunting youâespecially with your muse being the fleeting dream of a soulmate you never got to meet in the first place.
But itâs time to start your dayâthe real one. The one where you have to step outside the safety of your four walls and deal with reality.
The to-do list assembles in your mind: groceries, that book youâve been meaning to pick up, emails you need to answer.
You let your mind take over, guiding you through the motions without a second thought. As you head back to your room, you get rid of the comfortable robe you love so much.
Next, your shirt comes off, tossed carelessly onto the bed. Just as you're about to step out of your pajama pants, you notice them.
The scars.
Theyâre not the same, not the faded lines etched into your skin that you could see every night behind your eyelids. New marks glow against your flesh, each one a map of something you donât yet understand, standing out like new brushstrokes on an old canvas.
You canât help but freeze, your breath faltering for a moment, and you nearly trip over yourself. Kicking your pants to the side, you stare down at your hips, thighs, the hollow of your ribcage.Â
Tentatively, you press your fingers into the lines, expecting them to fade, to disappear under your touch like some peculiar illusion.
But they donât. They remain. You can feel the raised edges, the subtle roughness, the heat beneath your touch.
These scars are different from the ones you had before. Under no circumstances are they the faint memories you once carried. Noâthese are fresh and vibrant. Marks that shouldnât exist, the stories theyâve witnessed unfamiliar to you.
Within seconds, youâre sobbing, and you blink through the wetness clouding your vision, wiping your tears of disbelief (and maybe hope?) away with the back of your hand.
Nothing changes. Theyâre still there.
You've never heard of scars returning like this. It goes against everything in the manual on your shelf. Scars vanish when a soulmate dies, but they donât come back. Not like this. And they certainly donât change.Â
Barely able to stand without stumbling, you scramble to your phone. The first person you call is your mom, your fingers shaking as you press the buttons. She screams into the phone, and all you can do is laugh through the tears.
What doesnât sit right with her is the change in the scars. She mentions something about reaching out to a specialist, insisting that your case is rareâone in a million.
Almost immediately, you think of Wade, knowing heâd want to hear this. God, heâd be ecstatic. Before you even realize it, youâre standing in front of his door, finger hovering over the bell.
Thatâs when the realization hits you: heâs been gone for nearly three days, off doing whatever it is he does.
Ringing the bell, a smile tugs at your lips. News like these are meant to be shared.
âAlthea, itâs me!â you call out, hoping sheâll hear you. You press your forehead against the door, fidgeting with your fingers. âI have something to tell you.â
Logan has had better days. Days that didnât involve escaping The Void, fighting a hundred Wades, or saving an earth that wasnât even his to begin with.
You know, normal daysâof being sneered at while drinking to forget and, fuck, how many hours has he been sober? It feels like an eternity.
When the adrenaline wears off and the heroism fades, heâs back to being just Logan again. If he had a watch, heâd probably tap the glass and fake impatience to Wade, pretending heâs got somewhere else to be.
He should leave. Thatâs his first impulse: to escape before itâs too late, but a question arises in his mind: does he truly want to?
Wade watches as Logan rises to his feet, planning to walk away. Pretty stupid, Logan thinks, considering he knows no one else in this universeâapart from the scarred man heâs become friends with against his will.
âLogan!â Wade yells his name, his voice light but firm enough to halt him in his tracks. Logan turns to face him, greeted by Wadeâs familiar, infuriating smile.
It's a silent invitation to a new beginning.
Nothingâs holding him back, so why not accept it? The odds of being the target of hateful glares are lower here, and thatâs reason enough for Logan to give a small tilt of his head and return to the bench where Wade remains seated.
âWeâre gonna be roommates!â the latter exclaims, a wide grin stretching across his face as they head toward the building. âCan you imagine all the fun weâll have?â
Logan presses his lips into a thin line. âLooking forward to it,â he murmurs, a small glimmer of sarcasm slipping into his tone, although Wade takes his words at face value.
âMe too, roomie. Me too.â
âLetâs not use that word.â
Wade holds the door open for Logan with an exaggerated bow. âWhy not? Itâs the truth. We can even share my bed if thatâsââ
The sound of Loganâs claws succeeds in silencing him. Wade recoils and covers his crotch, no doubt remembering past close calls.
âYou know what? You can have the bed. Iâll take the couch. No problem.â
Was moving in with Wade the worst idea heâs had in a while? Absolutely. The reason? Althea, the elderly woman he lives with, isnât answering the door, and he doesnât have his keys.
Logan covers his eyes with a hand, silently questioning all of his life choices. And itâs only been ten minutes.
âThis doesnât happen often,â Wade reassures him, rubbing his neck.
âHard to believe,â Logan mutters, some unknown muscle in his jaw beginning to ache from how hard heâs gritting his teeth. âYou just leave the house without your fucking keys?â
Wade huffs, jutting out a hip in mock offense. âThose TVA guys didnât exactly send a âWeâre here to ruin your dayâ memo. I was ambushed, okay?â he retorts, keeping a finger glued to the doorbell, its shrill ring gnawing at Loganâs already thin patience. âAl, I swear to God, Iâm replacing your blood pressure pills with laxatives if you donât wake up!â
âHow old is she?â Logan asks, searching for anything to keep him from snapping the other manâs neck. Peaceful thoughts.
âCompared to you, sheâs basically a newborn,â Wade replies, rocking back and forth on his heels. Heâs having the time of his lifeâmeanwhile, Loganâs self-control is reaching its limit.
His claws twitch in his knuckles. Heâs had enough, and with a jerk of his left hand, they gleam as they slide out, ready to break the damn door.Â
But then Wade jumps in front of him.
âWhoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, buddy! Iâm not letting you turn my door into a strainer.â
âMove,â Logan barks, not an ounce of friendliness in his tone. His stare is flat, unfazed.
âIâd rather not. You canât just go around breaking peopleâs doors, man. Not cool,â Wade blurts quickly, placing both hands on Loganâs chest, pushing him away. âHow about I ask my neighbor, huh? I gave her a spare set of keys for situations like these.â
âI thought you said this didnât happen often.â
âWell, lifeâs full of disappointments.â
Before Logan can answer back, Wade rushes to the door next to his, slamming his fist on it like a madman, his finger hammering the doorbell simultaneously.
The devilâs orchestraâa symphony straight from hell.
Logan grabs Wadeâs wrist before he can knock again, hissing: âHave some manners, will you?âÂ
Wade tries to shake his arm free from Loganâs tight grip. âSheâs in there. I know it,â he replies in the same tone, but now he uses his other hand to ring the doorbell with greater feeling.
After a pause, he stamps his foot on the floor, throwing his head back. âCome on! Is this how you treat me after being away? Shame on you, Missy!â
This neighbor must be very patient, Logan thinks, to keep up with a guy like Wade without often seeing red.
As the door finally swings open, his grip on Wade loosens, and his hand falls limply to his side.
âWhat⌠the fuck?â
The sound of your voiceâsoft, slightly groggy from sleepâpulls his attention away from the door incident. His gaze is fixed entirely on youâyou look as if youâve just rolled out of bed, which makes sense since itâs still early.
Back in The Void, Wade had rambled on about all his friends, you included. Logan recalls how he had described you: a book editor who lived on her own and loved reading. You were youngerâbut then again, who wasnât younger than him?
The picture Wade had shown him, with you standing in the background, hadnât done you justice. He had found you attractive then, but seeing you in person?
Youâre⌠far more than he expected.
More beautiful, for starters.
Fuck. Why is he even thinking about that? He mustâve been staring at you for quite a whileâyou glance at him like a startled lamb, clearly feeling self-conscious under his unwavering stare.
âMay I know,â you start, tightening your robe, âwhy you were banging on my door like that? I thought I was getting robbed for a minute.â You direct your question at Wade, avoiding Loganâs presence, which makes something tighten in his chest.
He finds the way you stifle a yawn endearing, though.
Okay, thatâs enough, he tells his mind. Let it go.
Wade steps in first, dropping his mask on the nearest surface. âHello, my dear. Oh, yes, Iâm fine. Just a few scratches. No, I wasnât partyingâI was kidnapped. Thanks for asking.â
You draw in a long breath, rubbing your eyes to wake up once and for all, and then you proceed to gesture for Logan to enter. Even now, you find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. âDo youâwould you like to come in?â
Not only are you pretty, but also polite. He nods, muttering a gruff: âYeah, thank you.â
As he walks past you, your shoulders brush briefly, sending an unexpected jolt through him. A tingling sensation on the verge of being electrifying that has him knitting his brows.
His gaze finds yours, searching your expression to see if you felt it too. But you look away, closing the door to go after Wade.
Great. You must think heâs a weirdo.Â
âIâm always up for company, but why so early?â you ask your friend, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. âAnd are you going to tell me what happened the other day? You left without saying anything.â
Wade hops onto a stool at the kitchen counter, swinging his legs like a child. âYou know Al. When it comes to sleeping, sheâs like a much older version of Sleeping Beauty,â he replies with a grin, snatching the mug you were about to use for your morning coffee. âThanks, youâre such a doll.â
âThat wasâmine,â you sigh, hitting him in the thigh, and Wade winces with a fake whine. âI donât think Iâve missed you that much. Go back to being missing in action,â you say, grabbing another mug and filling it before raising it toward Logan. âCoffee?â
Logan hesitates. Youâre treating him like youâve known him for years, not minutes. âIâm⌠good.â
âYou sure? I made it fresh, just before you guys arrived.â
âDonât worry, Iâmââ
âI love the chemistry here,â Wade interrupts your conversation, drawing your attention back to him, âbut you still got the keys I gave you, right?â
You roll your eyes, blowing on your steamy coffee before answering. âI do, but I want answers first. And I want them now.â
Twenty minutes and a rambling, half-coherent story later, your drink has gone cold, and Loganâs patience is wearing thin⌠again.
Will he survive sleeping under the same roof as Wade? Stay tuned for more.
âAnd then I told Paradox âHe has risen, babygirlâââ
âI think youâre being too specific,â Logan interjects, noting how youâre staring into space with wide eyes. âShe seems confused.â
âI am,â you admit, rubbing your temples. He doesnât blame you: Wadeâs a terrible storyteller. You offer him a weak smile as you turn to him. âSo⌠youâre from another universe.â
âLast time I checked.â His back collapses against the couch, groaning softly. He sits beside you, and the way your eyes sweep over him, taking in his disheveled and sweaty appearance, doesnât go unnoticed by him.
âAnd how is it? I mean, do you haveââ
âIâm public enemy number one.â
Too harsh, idiot.
âOh. Thatâs⌠good to know.â
Wade says your name, and you look to your right, lifting your brows. âDo you mind if I grab the keys myself? I need a shower. Iâve been marinating in sweat and blood for way too long.â
You grimace, pointing toward your room. âTop drawer of my nightstand.â
With that, he embarks on a quest to find them, leaving Logan alone with you. Silence stretches between you two.
He doesnât know what to say, or if he should even say anything. Casual conversation isnât his forte.
âYou and WadeâŚ?â
Letting out a giggle, you lean back on the couch. âGod, no. Weâre just friends,â you explain, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. For a fleeting moment, your eyes bore into his, and then you return to burning holes in the floor. âIâm single. Havenât found my soulmate yet.â
Itâs his turn to chuckle nowâa dark, humorless sound rumbling in his chest. You chew on a cuticle, Loganâs gesture igniting a sense of curiosity in you.
âWhat?â you ask him, puzzled.
âDo you really believe in that? Soulmates who share scars?â If he were to think carefully, heâd watch his tone. Itâs too late, anywayâyou straighten your posture, your face contorting with each passing second. âI can tell you do.â
âAnd I can tell you donât.â
âWhy would I? Those are lies,â he retorts, the corners of his mouth turning upward.
His opinion is anything but objective, totally biased, given that every time he dove into loveâs arms, he was met with the crude reality: not everyoneâs meant to be loved, himself included.
The look you give him is enough to wipe the smirk off his face.Â
âSoulmates exist, Logan. We all have one.â Thereâs a certainty in your tone, marked by the subtle way in which you say his name, that he finds alluring. He shouldnât, especially when you seem angry above all.Â
âAnd where is yours, then?â
He regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your expression becomes inscrutable. You could be either disappointed, frustrated, or even exasperatedâsad, perhaps?
Logan feels as though a weight has settled on his shoulders just from staring into your eyes.
You strike back with silence. Plain, pure, dreadful silence that has him wondering if heâs breathing properly.
At long last, Wade comes back from his expedition, keys dangling from his fingers. âIt was quite the treasure hunt, you know? Youâve got a lot of garbage in there.â He sticks his face between Loganâs and yours when you don't answer him. âGuys, is there something wrong? Are you doing a staring contest? If so, can I join?â
âI need to start getting ready for work,â you announce, standing up from the couch. Logan mimics you, and you open the door, your fingers curling around the knob. âYou should get going. And Wade,â you pause, acknowledging only him, âI need to talk to you later. In private.â
Without Logan. Thatâs what you wanted to say but didnât.
âSure, my queen. I live to serve,â Wade says in rejoinder, and he kisses your forehead briefly, which forces Logan to avert his gaze the whole time his lips are on you, feeling uncomfortable watching. âTake care, alright?âÂ
You give Wade a small nod, waiting until heâs outside your apartment to glance at Logan.
âGoodbye,â you croak, and he knows he should say something, that heâ
The door almost closes on his nose.
Had he been an asshole? He was merely expressing his thoughts. The idea of soulmates didnât sit well with him.
Once settled into Wadeâs apartment, Logan steps into the shower, water rinsing off his body. Yet he finds himself unable to stop thinking about you.
The disappointment in your eyes when he asked about your soulmate.
The coldness in your tone at the end, so different from the warmth you initially offered.
He feels drawn to you, as if some sort of invisible string is tying the two of you. Were it possible, he would use his own claws to cut it, but he canât discern where it begins or ends. Instead, he prefers to blame his touch-starved state for this reaction.Â
Heâs already hating this earth. So much for a man whose skin refuses to scar.
And where is yours, then?
His words shouldnât have stung the way they did. All the charmâthe gruff exterior, the mysterious personalityâhad vanished.
The guy from another universe, with the claws, the healing abilities, and the raspy voice, is a moron.
A ridiculously good-looking moron? Yes, but a moron nonetheless.
There is something about him you canât quite place. A chill creeps down your spine as you replay the instant your eyes first locked. Your body had reacted in ways it never had before, drawn to him like metal to a magnet.
Why? Youâd seen handsome men before, even been with some. Yet, youâve never felt thisâthis gravitational pull, this inexplicable pull to invade someoneâs personal space.
How would your soulmate feel if he saw you like this, lusting after another man?
You shudder at the thought. This isnât like you. You pride yourself on loyaltyâperhaps a little too much. You donât read two books at the same time, and youâve been buying the same brand of shampoo for the past five years.
So why now? Why him? It feels like a betrayal of your own mind, your conscience turned against you.
Let things stay as they areâitâs safer that way. You donât want to know the reason behind this forceful need.
After all, being his grumpy and ill-tempered self, heâll stay holed up in Wadeâs apartment, avoiding any interaction with the real world. And you? Youâll forget about him. Easy-peasy.
That afternoon, as you take a nap on the couch, he invades your dreams. Itâs not even a wet dream, but heâs there, staking a claim on a part of you he has no right to.
You wake up with your hand clutching your chest, a frustrated punch landing on the nearest cushion.
The next day, you drop by Wadeâs place for a quick visit, your eyes darting around the room every few seconds, half-expecting Logan to appear out of nowhere.
âI told you, heâs sleeping. That guyâs got a fucked up sleep schedule,â Wade says, urging you to take a seat beside him at the table. âWhy donât you wanna see him?â
Because heâs messing with your sanity. Your brain cells are practically disintegrating at the mere thought of breathing the same air as him.
âI justâI need to tell you something.â
âAre you pregnant?â
âWhat? Wade, no! Youâve been gone for three daysâpregnancies take months.â
âIâd make an amazing uncle, though.â He grabs your hand between his, his eyes sparkling with mischief. âBabies are so adorable at thatââ
âMy scars are back,â you cut him off, putting an end to his nonsense. Pulling the neck of your sweater to the side, you show him the thin lines etched into your collarbone. âBut they are different this time.â
âDifferent? You mean they changed?â His disbelief is clear as he reaches for your arm, frowning while he inspects more of your scars. Wadeâs jaw slackens, color draining out of his face. âFuck. Fuck!â
âFuck?â
âYeah, fuck!â His strong arms envelop you, and you lean into the embrace, resting your cheek against his shoulder. âIs this good news? Are we happy? Does this mean I have a shot at becoming an uncle after all?â
You laugh a little at his eagerness, rubbing gentle circles into his back. âI am happy. I justâI donât know what these changes mean yet.â
Althea steps out of the bathroom, her cane tapping the floor in rhythmic beats. âI already told you what they mean.â
Wade pulls away from you, glaring at her. âYou meddler! Havenât we talked about not eavesdropping? Hasnât life taught you anything after all these decades?â
âUpside of being blind: Iâve never seen this motherfucker in Crocs,â she says, pointing her cane at you, though you know her aim is Wade. âDownside of being blind: I hear everything in this apartment. And you, kid, have a new soulmate.â
âI know what we talked about the other day, but... it doesnât make sense, Al. You only get one soulmate,â you protest, feeling the tension grow as you pace around the table. âWhy canât it just be simple? My friends are getting engaged, years are flying by, and Iâm still out here chasing this⌠this idiot who no one can even find!â
Thatâs when Logan appears, emerging from his room, holding several empty beer cans. He rolls his eyes and walks straight into the kitchen. âGreat. Who else is coming tonight?â
Wade smirks, clapping a hand on Loganâs shoulder as he looks at you. âSweetie, Loganâs going through his second puberty at the ripe old age of two hundred. The pediatrician said itâs just hormones, nothing to worry about. Excuse his shitty attitude.â
With a low groan, Logan shrugs off Wadeâs hand, scowling. If anything, the younger manâs grin just grows bigger. âWolvie, I gotta admit that whole âDonât fall in love with me or Iâll break your heartâ personality shouldnât turn me on, but here we are.â
You decide to take that as your cue to leave. You grab your bag, muttering a quick goodbye to Althea as you head for the door.
But Logan calls after you. âCan we talk?â
You freeze, your back to him. âHow much did you hear?â you ask, not daringânot being ableâto meet his gaze.
âAll of it,â he admits after a beat, and you curse under your breath. âBut it doesnâtâHey!â He follows you into the hallway. âIâm talking to you!â
âNo, youâre not.â You fumble for your keys, fingers shaking as you try to unlock your door. âLeave me alone.â
âI wonât,â he mumbles behind you, his voice softer now. âCome on. Donât be so harsh.â
âI canât believe you,â you whisper, finally finding the right key and jiggling it into the lock. The door swings open, and you step into the safety of your apartment. But when you try to close it, Loganâs foot wedges into the gap, blocking it. âGet out.â
He doesnât budge. âNo.â
âLogan, Iâm not in the mood.â
âWell, me neither. But I owe you an apology.â
You wonder if he realizes the hold he has on you. No matter how hard you try to mask it, the unbearable pounding of your heart betrays you.
Scanning his features, you trace the rugged contours of his face with your eyes, lingering on the lines on his foreheadâthe aftermath of what it looks like a life lived through bitterness and pain.
âCan I come in?â he insists, his tone on the verge of sounding pleading.
You hesitate. The sensible part of you screams to send him away. Thinking that avoiding him would be as easy as stealing candy from a baby is a long-forgotten idea now: youâd been naĂŻve to even consider it possible.
Heâs going to find a way to sneak into your space, your homeâand youâll let him in. Youâll grant him a chance to cross a boundary that shouldâve been already drawn.
It feels like youâre fifteen again, infatuated with the guy you know you shouldnât get close to. Paul from high school wasnât your soulmate back thenâLogan isnât now.
The smart thing would be to take a step back, accept his apology, and ask him to leave. Thatâs how you preserve what little remains of your sanity and protect your heart, which is already hanging by a thread.
But God, it feels so good to be near him.
You step aside. He walks in. Something tells you this wonât be the last time.
âIâm waiting.â You stay near the counter, pressing your back against it, and keeping your distance. Logan sits awkwardly on the edge of your couch, unsure of where to begin.
âLook, about what I said yesterdayâŚI didnât mean it. Iâm sorry.â He sounds sincere, earnest. âI didnât know you believed in soulmates.â
âItâs not a matter of believing in them or not, Logan. My soulmate is out thereâyours too.â
Your words coax a grin from him, and he shakes his head. âI guess weâll never see eye to eye on that.â In a fluid motion, he crosses the room, and you find his unexpected proximity a bit exasperating. âDo you forgive me?â
âIâll think about it.â
âGive me a break, darlinâ. Iâm trying my best.â
âWell, you were an asshole.â
âYes.â
âThe first time we exchanged words.â
âAlso yes.â
âAnd now youâre apologizing.â
âPositive. I just did.â
Itâs not that youâre easyâitâs Loganâs persuasive allure that gets to you.
âWhat else can I do to win your forgiveness?â he wonders aloud, his syrupy voice making you tighten your grip on the counter.
An idea sparks in your mind. You move toward the pile of books next to the TV, eyeing the titles, until one catches your attention: your copy of Jane Eyre by Charlotte BrontĂŤ, one of the first novels youâd read when you were younger.
Itâs adorned with colorful post-its, and the pages, sort of rough to the touch, are marked with handwritten notes in the margins.
âHow do you feel about reading?â
âNot my strongest suit,â he answers, arching a brow as he takes in your enthusiasm. âWhatâs going on in that head of yours?â
âYou want me to believe youâre sorry for what you said? Then read this,â you say, wiggling the book in front of him, âand we can start over.â
âWhat is it about? Let me guess: love and soulmates. Did I get it right?â he asks, playfulness lacing his tone. His breath hitches as you press the book against his chest, silently urging him to take it. His pinky grazes your hand, feeling your skin and sending a jolt through you.
Logan watches you with half-lidded eyes, and it takes every ounce of willpower to tear yourself away from him and his maddening touch.
You clear your throat. âOpen it to page one hundred fifty-three.â
âDo youâyou remember specific pages?â
âAnd read whatâs underlined in black,â you murmur, eyes fluttering closed for an instant. âPlease.â
Logan must mutter something along the lines of âYouâve got to be kidding meâ before searching for it. Itâs only then that he begins to recite the passage:
He is not to them what he is to me. He is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine; â I am sure he is â I feel akin to him â I understand the language of his countenance and movements; though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him. Did I say, a few days since, that I had nothing to do with him but to receive my salary at his hands? Did I forbid myself to think of him in any other light than a paymaster? Blasphemy against nature! Every good, true, vigorous feeling I have gathers impulsively round him. I know I must conceal my sentiments: I must smother hope; I must remember that he cannot care much for me. For when I say that I am of his kind, I do not mean that I have his force to influence, and his spell to attract; I mean only that I have certain tastes and feelings in common with him. I must, then, repeat continually that we are for ever sundered: â and yet, while I breathe and think, I must love him.
Youâve chosen a damn good page.
Logan looks up from the book, his mouth slightly parted, as if heâs about to speak. You interject before he can find the words.
âYouâve got a week to read it.â
âHow long is it again?â
âFour hundred pages.â
He surrenders, sighing in defeat. âYouâre killing me here, yâknow?â
âWrite an opinion essay if possible.â
Right there, Logan offers you a mock laugh. âHaha. Thatâs so funny.â
âIt is for me,â you talk back, unable to hide your smile from him, and soon he mirrors your expression.Â
As Logan steps toward the door, he hesitates and glances back. âWeâre all good then?â
Leaning against the doorframe, you raise your chin defiantly. âWeâll be when you finish the book.â
What he says next has your stomach turning into knots. âYouâre trouble.â His tone shiftsâno longer teasing, but grounded in truth. Gone are the jokes; he seems to mean every word.
For the rest of the night, one line from the book doesnât stop echoing in your mindâthe line about soulmates: I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.Â
Youâre trouble for him, and heâs trouble for you. You hope he knows it too.
He thought that not seeing you for a week would snuff out his feelings. That by next Wednesday, every thought tied to your name, every urge to uncover the last of your secrets, would be extinguished.
That's what time usually did: it diminished dangerous desires that couldn't afford to be voiced, and buried those longings that had no place in the light of day.
Logan now figures heâs been underestimating the spell you cast on him with just a few glances and the intensity of your eyes. Heâs seen you animated, angryâboth defiant and vulnerable.
Each of your gestures feels like a memory he canât quite place.
The way you laugh, the right corner of your mouth lifting just slightly higher than the leftâhe swears it isnât the first time he's seen a smile brighter than the sun.
Still, he convinces himself itâs all in his head. He must be the one losing his mind, the years finally catching up to him. Itâs the only reasonable explanation for the thoughts that consume his every waking moment.
Heâs wrongâyouâre right. Heâs seeing things where there are noneâyouâre simply too kind.
Too kind. Too young. Too damn clever for your own good, with your books and that sharp mind of yours. He wonders how you see yourself.
Do you like the reflection in the mirror? Are you content with the way your life has turned out?
Do you, too, lie awake at night, the bed stretching endlessly, aching for a touch that never comes?
The walls in this place are paper-thin. When darkness falls, and the moon rises, the big, scary Wolverine canât close his eyes.
Instead, he listens.
Some nights, you play the same movie on repeatâa romantic comedy that lasts exactly one hundred and twenty minutes. For two hours straight, heâs privy to your laughter, your commentary at the characters on the screen.
He hears you cry when the lead couple drifts apart after a terrible argument, but they always find their way back to each other, and you watch every second until the credits roll.
None of the other films you pick ever ends in heartbreak, he realizes. They all have happy endingsâthe kind you wish for yourself.
One way or another, there must be a way to get you out of his system. He knows, without a doubt, that you wouldnât want him. Heâs not your soulmate, and itâs clear that finding that person has become the center of your existence.
Logan canât allow himself to be the moron who derails your purpose.
Sure, heâs done bad things, but he likes to believe that at least a part of himâsome small fractionâhasnât been lost yet. That thereâs a piece of him that can be saved, which is the reason why he stayed here: to be a better man than the one he was in his universe.
But itâs hard. Harder still because itâs you who disrupts his quest for redemption. How is he supposed to go on with his life when every thought circles back to you? The idea of holding you, kissing youâsleeping beside you haunts him.
And so the images blur, new dreams twisting with his usual nightmares.
Which one is worse, he can no longer tell.
One afternoon, while deliberately steering clear of Jane Eyre, he reluctantly turns to Wade in search of answers. âTell me more about her.â
Wade, lounging on the couch, stops scrolling on his phone and drops it onto his chest, drawing his eyebrows together.
âHer? Who do you mean?â His tone oozes with feigned innocence, barely containing a shit-eating grin when Logan grits out your name, his tone rough, almost pained. âOh, Romeo. Youâve got it bad.â
Intending to maintain some semblance of control, Logan strides into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and the last bottle of whiskey. As he tips it, only a few drops fall into the glass.
âNo, I donât,â he says, extending his arm and holding the bottle up. âWeâre out of whiskey.â
âYou keep saying we, but youâre the only alcoholic in this apartment.â Wade kicks off his shoes, propping his feet on the coffee table. âSo, why the sudden interest in the lady? She getting through that tough exterior of yours? Iâll give her points for that.â
âAnd you wonder why I donât talk to you.â
âI saw the book,â the younger man replies, lacing his fingers behind his head, watching as Logan rummages through the fridge with increasing frustration. âYou never told me you were into classics. If Iâd known, Iâd have gotten you a copy of Pride and Prejudice.â
âShut your mouth.â
âIâm sorry, werenât you the one who came to me, looking for the essential oil of truth?â
The silence that follows is thick and uncomfortable, mood-killing.
âSee what I just did there?â he adds, and Logan feels forced to shake his head from side to side, appearing conflicted. Wade lets out a low huff. âThat was Virginia Woolf. Add her to your reading list.â
âHas anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?â
âMore times than I can count. Iâm just not everyoneâs cup of coffee.â
âTea, Wade. Not everyoneâs cup of tea.â
âWhatever.â Wade simpers, as though Loganâs correction is the punchline to a joke only he gets. He sets his palms flat on the table, looming closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. âSo, what would you like to know about my dear friend?â
Logan hesitates, the weight of his question heavy on his tongue. âWhatâs the deal with her scars?â
The air shifts. Wadeâs playful expression fades and he tilts his head, his tone turning serious. âI donât think itâs my story to tell,â he begins, gaze dropping to the floor. âBut she lost them years ago. She was living a normal life, and one day, they were justâgone, like they were never there. It broke her. We didnât know each other back then, but youâve seen her.â
Wadeâs eyes flick back up, while Logan stands there, tongue-tied. âYou even know the kind of books she readsânothing can shake that belief in real love, in soulmates being destined. Imagine how she mustâve felt when she found out her presumed soulmate was dead⌠without a single warning.â
From what he had heard, that sense of loss was impossible to put into words. Those whoâd gone through it described the experience as if half of youâyour body, your soul, your very essenceâwas being ripped away.
The pain was excruciating, and the only way to survive it was by means of tolerating itâno remedy, just the endurance to outlast the agony.
It wasnât just a momentary hurt. It was the kind of torment that lingered, making you question who you were and what little remained of you.
You and Logan had more in common than heâs willing to admit.
âSheâs a good person,â he mutters absent-mindedly, his thumb grazing the cover of the book. He had carried it everywhere for a week now, without even cracking it open.
âOh, you dirty pigâŚâ Wade whispers, his eyes lighting up as if a lightbulb suddenly went off in his mind. âNow I get it. You wanna know her. Like, really know her!â
âI donâtââ
âYour sex life is none of my business. Iâm all up for you putting your mutant dick to work, otherwise itâs just wasted potential. But itâs my friend weâre talking about.â
Loganâs jaw tightens, and he snaps. âDrop the speech, alright? Iâm not trying to get into her pants. I just want to be nice. Thatâs all.â
âNice, huh? Whatâs your version of nice? Starting a two-person book club?â Wade stifles a laugh, pressing a finger to Loganâs chest. âLook, if you want to sleep with her, and the feelingâs mutual, then go for it. Just tell me thisâhow longâs it been since you visited Pussy Village? Was it before or after the Big Bang?â
Things are never truly serious with Wade Wilson. âIâm not answering that.â
Wade raises both hands in surrender, still chuckling. âFine, fine. But if youâre really interested, just be clear about it. She doesnât need a half-assed situationship.â
By now, itâs like a mantra he repeats again and again, hoping that eventually both Wade and he will start to believe it. âI donât want to have sex with her.â
As he heads back to his (now Wadeâs old) room, Wade adds, âIâm sure sheâd appreciate it if you underlined some quotes you like.â
Much to his dismay, thatâs exactly what Logan does.
His handwriting isnât the most legible, but he tries his best, leaving notes in the margins of some pages, such as:
I hate this John kid.
Her aunt is a cunt.
This is too cheesy.
Mr. Rochesterâs married?
St. Johnâwhat a prick.
He finishes the book at 7 a.m. A long-ass bookâjust for you. While getting ready for work, Wade calls him an unemployed fucker, and Logan knows nothing better than to shoot back a similar insult, stretching his arms as the first rays of sunlight creep through the curtains.
Wade was right about something, even if Logan himself doesnât wish to admit it: heâs behaving like a teenagerâstaying up until dawn, practically chained to the bed without daring to go out. Falling for a girl he didnât know a week ago.
Learning to control his impulses has been a hard task, especially with his temperament. Over the years, Logan thought heâd mastered the art of self-restraint, long past the point where his body moved without his mindâs permission.
As his feet carry him down the hall toward your apartment, he recognizes how wrong he is.
This is a terrible idea, he thinks. And yet, his fist knocks on the wood. Three times.
Fuck.
The door opens just a crack. You peek out, your face barely visible, eyes puffy from sleep. âLogan?â
His name isnât a fancy one. Itâs pretty normal, pretty standard. There must be a thousand other guys named like himâyet itâs only when you say it, your voice turning it into something rare and unique, that it feels different, like itâs only his.
The tone you use with him isnât the one heâs used to: Logan, youâre a disappointment. Logan, how dare you turn your back on your friends? Logan, theyâre all dead. Logan, itâs your fault.
Yours is inviting, and warm, and new. He likes new.
âI just finished it,â he answers, holding up the book, mindful not to grip it too tight as not to crumple the pages.
You scratch the back of your head, blinking at him. âYou just finished it⌠at 7 a.m.?
Yeah, it sounds stupid now that you say it out loud, but itâs true. Hoping his reaction is enough to explain what he canât put into words, he gives you a slow nod.
This time, you donât wait for him to say more. âCome in?â
Yes, this is what heâs been looking forward all week. This moment, this interaction.
This Come in. This Yes, thank you. Youâre so kind.
His quiet acceptance of your invitation, the unpronounced thought of I donât deserve this, but I canât back off now, because how could I ever say no to you?
He follows you into the kitchen as you move to make tea. âWant some?â you ask, but he declines the offer. If he were to drink anything right now, it would be something much stronger, not tea, despite the early hour. âYouâre here to talk about the book?â
âWell, you told me I could come back after reading it.â
âI did,â you say, a small smile tugging at your lips as you hide it behind your mug. âI just wasnât expecting you to be so punctual.â
You donât need to know that heâs been counting down the seconds, marking each minute in his mind since the last time he saw you. Thatâs a detail heâll keep to himself. âItâs a good story.â
âTell me about it.â You smile even wider, and he takes a moment to absorb the details of your faceâthe crinkles by your eyes, the way your nose scrunches when youâre amused. âI lent you my most precious book. Fell in love with it years ago.â
âI can see why you liked it,â he explains, flipping through the pages to find the one he marked. âAll the romance and the yearningââ
âHey, itâs also good for other reasons,â you try to defend yourself, but any other argument dies on your lips when he finds the passage he was looking for and begins to read aloud.
âI sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you, especially when you are near me, as now,â he recites, his voice lower, almost reverent, as he looks up from the page to meet your gaze. âIt is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your frame.â
You seem startled by the sharp sound of him closing the book. Heâs sort of breathless, and from where he stands, he can tell you are too. âThatâs one of my favorite passages.â
âI canât blame you for believing in soulmates if this is the kind of thing you read growing up,â he teases, handing the book back to you.
Though a part of him almost wishes he didnât have toâso that it would still be a reason, a tether, pulling him back to you again and again.
Grinning, you take it, your eyes remaining trained on his. âI happen to notice it hasnât changed your perspective on soulmates.â
âItâll take more than a book.â
âThis is, in my opinion, one of the best love stories ever written. How else will I convince you?â
âWhy do you feel like you need to convince me?â He takes a step forwardâyou take a step back. âWhy canât it be the other way around? I might end up being the one who convinces you.â
âYou could never,â you respond, clasping your hands behind your back. âIt would be like convincing me the sky is green instead of blue.â
Logan retreats slightly. âDonât you get tired?â
âOf what?â
âOf waiting. Of always being on the lookout.â
You donât react badly to his question. Youâre not even shaken, not fazed in the slightest. âWhen I meet him, Iâll know all the waiting was worth it.â
âAnd in the meantime?â Logan inquires, pressing himself further into your intimacy, edging closer as if testing the boundaries youâre willing to cross. His words are a subtle request for more, for answers. âWhat will you do until you find him?â
If you ever do, he thinks, but itâs left unsaid, lingering in his thoughts. Heâs getting better at not saying the things that sit heavy in his chest without thinking.
âI think you misunderstand, Logan.â You study him through your lashes, and he feels heâs become the keeper of your most sacred secrets. âItâs not about waiting as if my lifeâs on pause. Iâve been with other people. But in the end, I want to choose him.â
That casual admission strikes him like a wave of cold water. A flicker of jealousy burns at the edges of his composure, though he tries to smother it.
Iâve been with other people, you say, your tone so nonchalant, and yet the mental images that flood his mind are anything but comfortable.
He imagines someone else standing in your kitchen. Perhaps in five minutes, there will be another man knocking on your door, here to discuss a book, and it wonât be him.
Perhaps this isnât rare for youâall this come in, grab something to drink, letâs talk when youâre done reading.
Perhaps heâs not as important as you make him feel.
His thoughts spiral until your voice pulls him back from the brink.
âDonât you understand how beautiful it is?â Thereâs a dazzling glint in your expression, a light in your eyes that makes him ache. âOutside of these four walls, thereâs a person whoâs waiting to meet me, in the same way I expect to meet him. I canât grant myself the choice not to believe in something like this.â
Far from easing the martyr in his mind, this conversation only deepens his internal struggle. The questions overlap each other: what happens if you never find him? Would you ever consider settling for somebody else?
He rephrases that last oneâwould you ever consider being with him?
âHeâs a lucky guy,â Logan murmurs, and just like that, he feels himself slipping deeper, falling into the rabbit hole with you guiding him through the madness.
For a moment, he can pretendâpretend that matching scars and bonds that defy the rules of his principles make sense.
Maybe, just for you, heâll allow himself to believe it.
Your eyes soften with sudden emotion, glistening with the beginnings of tears. He feels the primal urge to reach out, to cup your cheek, to be there when the first tear falls. âYou think so?â you ask, your voice fragile.
I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you, especially when you are near me, as now.
âOf course I do,â he replies, his tone quiet but laden with a strange, undeniable truth.
It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your frame.
Whatever this is between youâitâs messed up. Heâs messed up. And you⌠youâre just as tangled in this chaos for indulging it, for looking at him in that way that calls out to him.
The more time he spends with you, the less he feels like himself. Everything heâs done latelyâreading that damn book, standing in your apartment at 7 a.m.ânone of it feels like something heâd do.
Itâs not just his mind youâre messing with: itâs his very sense of self.
Loganâs smart mouth had always been a liability, getting him into trouble either by saying too much or by choosing the wrong words. Bad things had always followed in the wake of his tongue.
Somehow, when it comes to you, heâs the most careful heâs ever been. He doesnât want to upset you, nor does he want to be the cause of any sorrow that might affect your heart.
When the two of you stand at the threshold once more, just as you have other times before, you softly say: âI feel like Iâm experiencing a dĂŠjĂ vu.â
He laughs, because it sounds ridiculous. âCare to explain why?â
âYou come, we talk, you leave.â You lean against the wall, your hand ghosting over the handle. âBut you never stay that long.â
Thereâs no mistaking the layered meaning in your words. You, who work with language and its peculiarities for a living, never speak by chanceâevery phrase, every pause, carries an assigned weight. The double meaning in your statement doesnât escape either of you.
Youâre a natural at this madness, diving headfirst into it. You must be losing it, too, because your actions donât match what you said before.
Slowly, his fingers brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the perfect excuse to feel your skin, to close the distance without saying what he actually wants.
They say food and shelter are the basic human needs, but Logan chooses to believe they forgot to include the longing to reach out and just feel you.
âI canât stay,â he finally responds to your earlier comment, his hand still lingering against your skin.
His strengthâthe only thing saving him from completely giving inâhelps him pull himself away.
Before the impulse to kiss you becomes too overwhelming to resist, Logan leaves.
Some time later, youâre making lunch, music playing softly in the background at the same time the cityâs distinct noise finds a way to break through your tranquility.
You rely greatly on the knowledge that youâre good at multitaskingânow more than ever, with a book in one hand and the other stirring the pasta on the stove.
The warmth from the pot rises around you, but you trust yourself not to be careless. Not to be stupid enough to burn yourself with the boiling water.
This time, you miscalculate. Not only do you dip the wooden spoon into the pot, but your fingertips too.
Though it only lasts a second, and the voice in your head instantly screams Hot! Hot! Hot!, the shock makes you drop the book to the floor. You yank your hand back, racing to the sink to run it under cold water.
âFuck,â you grumble, watching the skin redden in protest. âLesson learned: no more multitasking.â
The funny thing is, just a door away, Loganâs watching a movie with Wade when he feels a sting in the tips of his fingers.
Itâs barely there, practically faint, but he looks down, inspecting his hand like it doesnât belong to his own body. His skin briefly flushes with irritation before returning to its normal state.
Wade notices his distraction. âHey, you okay?â
Logan pays no mind to it. âSure. Just felt something strange.â
Is it still called avoiding if youâre both doing it? Youâd like to think so.
For the sake of clarity, letâs say youâve been actively avoiding Logan, but truth be toldâheâs been avoiding you too. That last encounter in your apartment didnât help matters at all.
If anything, it made everything worse.
Youâve been down this road before, knowing men like him too well: theyâre everywhere, until theyâre not.
One day, they vanish without a trace, leaving you staring at the empty space they used to occupy, asking yourself âWhat happened to my Prince Charming in disguise?â
They disappear as though they never existed, and not even the best detective can track them down.
So far, your avoidance strategy has worked wonders. Maybe itâs for the best. Heâs a distractionâan undeniably attractive one, the kind anyone would want to trip over.
Yet you miss him, which is dumb: why are you missing someone you were never supposed to care about in the first place?
You return home after a long trip to the grocery store, arms laden with bags. Itâs the kind of errand that exhausts you, though you keep telling yourself itâs better than thinking about him.
As you struggle to get through the building's exit, you resign yourself to the fact that itâll take several trips to bring everything up to your apartment.
Then the elevator doors slide open, and you drop everything to the floor.
You shouldâve known better than to assume victory so soon. After days of successfully avoiding him, there he is.
And of course, itâs when you look your worstâtired from running around, weighed down by groceries, barely holding it together.
âHey,â he greets you, standing just outside the elevator, like heâs not sure if he should step inside or stay where he is. Heâs dressed in a red-and-black flannel shirt, layered over a white vest, a leather jacket tossed over his shoulders, and a pair of jeans that seem made for him.
He looks... ridiculously good.
âHi,â you manage to answer after a beat, scrambling to collect the bags youâd dropped. âJustâgive me a second.â
âLet me help you,â Logan says, ducking down to gather the groceries, but you pull them away.
âIâve got it. Are you going out? On a date, maybe?â You nod toward his clothes, trying to keep things light, teasing even.
Glancing down at himself, a crease appears between his brows, and in one swoop, he gathers all the bags with a single hand. âIâm supposed to meet Wade at a bar, but heâll survive without me.â
âLogan, you donâtââ
But heâs already moving, one hand tugging you out of the elevator, the other gesturing toward your apartment.
âNot up for debate,â he mutters. Then, without waiting for permission, he holds out his hand. âKeys.â
Sighing, you dig into your pocket and drop them into his open palm. He unlocks the door with practiced ease, stepping inside and placing the bags on your kitchen counter.
As he starts to unpack them, you stop him. âYou really donât need to do that.â
That seems to catch his attention. He pauses, turning toward you with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the counter.
His unrelenting stare sizes you up, and he cocks his head to the side. âHavenât seen you in a while.â
He thinks heâs so discreet, so smooth. âWell, Iâve been busy,â you explain, fiddling with the frayed edge of your sweater, tugging at it like it might unravel your nerves.
You hear him click his tongue. âBeen busy too.â His words hang in the air, thickening the atmosphere. Your body tenses, and you stare at his shoes, untilâ âSweetheart,â he calls you softly, and your eyes snap shut for a moment, your chin almost pressing against your chest. âMy eyes are up here.â
A quick flutter of your lashes brings you back to him, and your chest tightens with the effort it takes to look into his eyes. âDonât you have somewhere to be?â you ask, praying heâll let this go.
You watch as his mouth twitches with something halfway between a smile and a smirk. âYou already want me to leave?â
âIf you have plans, then yeah.â
He huffs out a laugh, inhaling a shallow breath like youâve missed something obvious. âWade can wait. Heâll be fine.â His expression shifts, and the playful tone in his voice falls away, replaced by something more raw. âYouâve been avoiding me.â
You canât help but snort. âOh, please. Like you havenât been doing the same.â You walk over to the couch, feeling your legs wobble beneath you. You collapse into one corner, hoping the distance will help you breathe.
Like a shadow, Logan follows after you, sitting far too close. His legs splay wide, so wide theyâre almost grazing yours.
âAt least I have a reason for it. What about you?â His hand reaches out, fingers closing around yours in a grip thatâs both firm and gentle, enhancing your anxiety. Your throat tightens, the room shrinking around you. âI need you to tell me Iâm not crazy,â he says, his voice rough and low. âI need you to tell me you feel it too.â
Panic flares in your chest, and you scramble for time. âI donât know what youâre talking about,â you mutter, but your voice cracks, the uncertainty leaking through the cracks in your bravado.
He doesnât buy your acting. âYou do. We canât keep playing dumb. Youâre gonna make me lose my fuckinâ mind one of these days.â
Itâs not just his wordsâitâs the way he stands so close, heat radiating from his body, the roughness of his hand gripping yours like heâs terrified youâll slip away.
The intensity of it all weighs on you in ways you canât even begin to describe, leaving you breathless, caught between denial and desire.
âLogan, this isnâtââ
âWhat? Okay?â Thereâs a glimpse of mirthlessness in his tone as he speaks, his forehead furrowing. âI canât stay away from you, donât you see it? It feels too good to be wrong,â he utters, inching forward. You know you should take a step back, tell him to stop. Nothing good can come from this. âIt takes two to feel these things. It canât be just me.â
âThat doesnât mean we have to give in.â Blood pounds in your ears, your pulse racing as your heart hammers unpleasantly. Little shivers of ice run through your spine, and yet, your stomach burns with desire.
More than ever, you feel yourself slipping, your sanity at risk.
Logan runs his eyes up and down your face, agitated, almost going cross-eyed. âEarlier you asked if I was going on a date. Would you like that? Me being with other people? Kissing another woman?â His hot breath caresses your cheek, and you avert your gaze momentarily. âAnswer me.â
Donât do it. For the love of God, donât. âI canâtâI donâtââ
âCome on, baby.â
âI donât want you to be with other people,â you mumble, your lips almost grazing his, and thatâs all he needs to grip your chin and pull you into a kiss.
His mouth moves hungrily over yours, pushing you back until the armrest digs into your lower back. A choked whimper gets lost in your throat, and you bring him closer by grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket, your chest pressing against his.
Logan bites down on your lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, and the moan you let out reverberates in the apartment.
âThis is what you were hiding from me?â he rasps, his forehead bumping against yours. âThese sweet sounds you make?â
You end up perched in his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips. Heâs hard beneath you, and as you shift, your center makes contact with his erection through the layers of fabric.
Both of you sigh into each otherâs mouths, your hips moving on their own accord, rocking slightly against his clothed cock. He hooks one of his arms around your waist, guiding your movements.
Everything seems to fall into place. Outside your window, birds chirp. The world feels lighter, like a better place. The beast inside you quiets, and for once, your mind is blissfully blank.
Logic? Error 404ânot found.
You tug at his hair, and Logan growls, breaking the kiss. âDo that again.â He jerks under your touch, bucking up into you. Encouraged, you pull his hair again, fingers wrapping around a strand at the nape of his neck, and youâre rewarded with a deep groan.
Heâs dizzy for it, but youâre no better, not when he trails his kisses down your neck, his mouth latching onto your skin, tasting the sweat and salt.
âI canât control myself around you,â he murmurs, groping your tits, and you wail, the ache between your legs becoming intolerable. His hands slip under your sweater, caressing the scars on your back.
Thatâs when recognition settles over you.
What are you doing? And why are you doing it?
He ceases sucking your flesh when you go rigid on top of him. Pecking your lips once again, Loganâs hands cradle your face, his thumbs rubbing circles on your cheeks. âWhatâs wrong?â
You donât understand how he does it, how he can remain so calm. Doesnât he realize the gravity of this? âWe have to stop.â
âWhy?â
âDonât ask me something you already know the answer to.â
His arms drop to his sides, releasing you from his hold. You push yourself off him, away from the couch, putting as much distance between you as you can.
Pressing your palms to your eyes, you shake your head. âGod, Iâm stupid. This is stupid.â
Your reaction seems to get on his nerves, his frustration somehow increasing. Logan stands, towering over you. âWas it stupid when you were dry humping me?â
âFuck you, Logan.â
âIâm not the bad guy here. You kissed me back.â He doesnât let up, trailing behind you as you try to escape. âYou want me as much as I want you.â
âWill you stop saying that?â you bark, throwing your arms in the air. Your chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. âYeah, we like each other. So? Does that make it right? How can you just ignore how wrong this is?â
His expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. âForget your idea of what's good and bad. You're just upset you can't control what you feel.â
âHeâs closer than ever.â
Logan gawks at you, his voice bitter as he goes on with his rambling. âThat fucker again? Donât you ever get tired of talking about someone who you donât even know? Because youâre certainly wearing me out.â
âYou wish you were him, donât you?â You jab your finger into his chest, feeling his heartbeat, a flutter you choose to ignore. âYou want to be my soulmate.â
âDamn right I do,â he practically spits his words, narrowing his eyes at you. âBut Iâm not him.â
âNo. Youâre not.â
Everything seems to fall out of place. Outside your window, birds donât chirpâthey scream for mercy. The world doesnât feel lighter, but heavier. The beast inside you roars back to life, restless and louder than ever, while your mind spins in chaos.
âWe shouldnât see each other anymore.â Your voice pierces through the thick silence in the room, and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat.
âIf thatâs what you want,â he replies, his jaw clenched tight, irritation radiating off him in waves.
âItâs what we both need.â
âSpeak for yourself. I donât have a soulmate.â His tone is biting, but you donât miss the undercurrent of longing in his words. âBut if in any other universe I do, I hope itâs you.â
Your hand turns the knob, and then heâs halfway out the door, sparing you one last glance before he turns his back to you.
No more visits. No more books. No more bruising kisses that leave you questioning your mere existence.
Let things stay as they areâitâs safer that way. You donât want to know the reason behind this forceful need.
After all, being his grumpy and ill-tempered self, heâll stay holed up in Wadeâs apartment, avoiding any interaction with the real world. And you? Youâll forget about him. Easy-peasy.
It didnât go well in the end.
You remember your first heartbreakâseventeen, fresh out of high school. One of your hands clutched a million dreams, and the other, a pillow soaked with your tears.
Your mother remained by your side, caressing your back, attempting to soothe the sobs that racked your body. She murmured that itâd pass, that you wouldnât feel like this forever. You believed her then, and trusted that things would eventually be okay.
Almost ten years later, another heartbreak shouldnât come as a surprise. By now, you thought you wouldâve developed the tools to survive it. You should be able to piece yourself back together by instinct.
But life, as it turns out, has a peculiar way of catching you off guard.
Whether itâs pent-up horniness, touch-starvation, or genuine affectionâit doesn't change the fact that your pseudo-relationship with Logan fell apart.
Though youâre not the one whoâs suffering the most. Neither is Logan.
Wade, the third party in this tangled mess, has somehow taken it the hardest.
âI feel like a child of divorce,â he says, his head resting on your lap, eyes distant as they fixate on the peeling wallpaper. âYou need to do something about that.â
âIâll take care of it next month.â
Heâs supposed to be the one supporting you, but it feels like the roles are reversedâyouâre comforting him, letting him vent.
âMy two favorite people now canât even be in the same room. What are we gonna do for Christmas? New Year's Eve?â Straightening up, he grabs the nearest cushion and buries his face into it to muffle a defeated scream. âDamn it, Cupid! You had one job!â
All in all, Wadeâs emotionally unavailable at the moment, grieving your separation from Logan as if it were his own loss, too caught up in his melodrama to be of any real help.
Meanwhile, you fill your days with work, books, anything to keep your mind occupied.
You go to bed too late, you wake up too early. Sleep too little, cry too much.
One thing stays constantâyou and Logan donât talk. Stolen glances in the hallway, awkward elevator ridesâthose are the only remnants of whatever you once were. Back to being strangers again.Â
Well, not really. Strangers donât know the route to your mouth the way he does.
The ache lingers every day. Missing him when youâre awake is a common occurrence. At night, as you toss and turn beneath the sheets, he stars in your dreams. You canât recall the last time he wasnât lodged in your thoughts.Â
Where there used to be ideas, creativity, and plots worth scribbling down, thereâs now only Loganâa man destined to problematize your stay on earth.
That fucker again? Donât you ever get tired of talking about someone who you donât even know? Because youâre certainly wearing me out.
And yet, despite all of it, you continue to prioritize someone else. Someone who isnât even here. Clung to the idea of a soulmate, you chose him over Logan.
What did he expect? For you to abandon your principles, your belief in destiny? Itâs who you are. Nearly thirty years of life guided by one belief canât just be discarded like trash.
You liked to separate things into categories: good and bad, right and wrong. A simple method to structure everything, to make sense of your world, and it has worked most of the time.
But now? The limits of those sacred categories look blurred. Your judgment feels unreliable, and you wonder if the choices youâve made lately have been the correct ones.
Each of your decisions seems to be leading you further down a path you canât recognize.Â
Whatâs the goal? Finding your soulmate, the voice in your head mockingly answers for the hundredth time, rolling its imaginary eyes. And where is he?
Youâve shut Logan out, a man whoâs made it clear he has feelings for you, for this elusive person. Isnât it time he steps into the light at long last?
This is what you fear the most: loneliness.
You donât want to be the lone woman who sits by herself in a cafe, drawing pity from waitresses who discuss her solitude. By no means do you wish to be that friend who dispenses wise dating advice, but goes home to an empty bed. You refuse to become the godmother whose hand no one holds when her time comes.
No, this canât be all fate has to offer to you. There must be more. If your life were a book, youâd be flipping through the pages to the last chapter, desperate to see how it ends.
Or, better yet, youâd grab a pen and rewrite it yourself. What kind of ending youâll haveâyouâre not so sure about that.
Itâs Sunday, one of those endless weekends where the only way to survive is by rearranging your entire apartment. You could manage it alone, but help would be niceâWadeâs help, to be more precise, would be perfect for this kind of task, and you find yourself knocking on his door.Â
No answer. Deciding to dial his number to see if heâs fallen asleep, you try calling him, waiting through the rings until he finally picks up. âHey.â
Except itâs not Wadeâs voice that answers. âIâm sorry, who is this?â
The door swings open, and Logan appears right behind it, holding Wadeâs phone to his ear.
He narrows his eyes, leaning against the frame, a single eyebrow lifted in curiosity. âHow sad. You donât remember what I sound like.â
You feel foolish for still being on the call, so you lock your phone, ending it. âWhereâs Wade?â you ask, frowning as you hold your breath, your voice sharper than intended.
âOut and about. Didnât tell me where he was going,â Logan replies, glaring at you as he raises the phone to your face. âHe left without this.â
Abort mission! Nodding in agreement, you begin to step back. âGreat, Iâll look for him later.â
Youâre close to being locked up once again in the safety of your apartment when you hear him: âYou need anything?â
Itâs the most heâs said to you in weeks. You hesitate, keeping your back turned. âIâm moving some heavy stuff around. Thought I could use the help.â
âI could do it.â
No. Not really. Heâs doing that thing againâoffering help when you know you shouldnât accept it. You shake your head.
âItâs not necessary,â you say, forcing a casual tone.
âDoesnât have to mean anything,â he retorts, his footsteps heavy and deliberate as they draw closer. With each passing second, your options shrink, leaving you no room for retreat. âDonât worry. I wonât try to kiss you again if thatâs whatâs got you all worked up.â
âIâm not worked up,â you hiss, and he sidesteps you easily, his arm nudging yours.
The electricity is still there, undeniable, but neither of you has the courage to acknowledge it, acting as though itâs an ordinary occurrence.
His eyes roam the room, like heâs forgotten what your apartment looked like. He pauses by the bookshelf, his fingers gliding over the spine of Jane Eyre, and a low whistle escapes him as he slips it back into place.Â
You, frozen at the threshold, feel your irritation simmering just beneath the surface, and the urge to hide in your bedroom only becomes stronger.
After this, youâll have to burn your favorite book. What a pity.
âWhat do you want me to do?â he asks, hooking his fingers into the loops of his jeans, his posture both confident and annoyingly relaxed.
Thereâs a challenge in his tone, and he acts as if youâre the one who pulled him into this situationâlike he didnât worm his way in here.
You gesture toward the couch. âCan you put it by the window?â
He sets to work, moving the smaller pieces of furniture aside to make space for the couch. Under no circumstances are you going to just stand there and watch him sweat.
Instead, you busy yourself with the long-forgotten glasses and cups gathering dust in one of the kitchen cabinets, each one glinting with past disappointments.
Wetting a towel, you start by wiping the rims. The air feels heavily charged with uneasiness, but you're relieved that for once, you can breathe without feeling like youâre on the brink of a heart attack.
You can already imagine Wadeâs face when you tell himâ
âSo,â Loganâs voice cuts through the silence, startling you, âhowâs the search going? Got any luck?â
His words have the desired effect on you, and the glass slips from your grasp, shattering against the floor in a crash that mirrors the jump of your heart. You curse under your breath, stepping back from the mess, taking in the shards sprawled around your shoes.
âBe careful,â he says from the other side of the room, still dragging the furniture into place, and you scrutinize him over your shoulder, your brows knitted.
âI donât need your advice,â you murmur through gritted teeth as you crouch to pick up the larger shards. His attention returns to the couch, but you guess heâs not technically thinking how nice of a person you are.
As you kneel, your hands tremble slightly, and you wonder when that started. You fumble for a larger shard of glass, bracing your hand against the floor for balance, unaware of the smaller piece lying dangerously close to your fingers.
The sting comes fast, slicing through the skin of your pinky. You flinch, raising your hand, and Logan, hearing the faint wince, abandons his task and crosses the room to you.
"I donât need your advice," he echoes, mocking your tone as he squats beside you, his hand closing around yours to inspect the wound. "Youâre bleeding."
âBrilliant observation, Sherlock. I hadnât noticedââ The words die in your throat, your eyes widening as you take a closer look at his hand. âWait, why are you bleeding?â
He snorts, diverting his attention to his own hand. âWhat do you mean Iâmââ Whatever it is he intended to shoot back remains unsaid as both of you stare down at the small cut in his pinky.
Driven by instinct, you place your hands side by side, your finger grazing his. The cuts are identical: same place, same width, same depth. The only difference is his vanishes within seconds, leaving only a few droplets of crimson blood as evidence.
Logan couldnât have cut himself. He was nowhere near the glass. âAre youâŚ?â You swallow thickly, trying to string together a coherent thought, dizziness making its triumphant appearance. âAre you thinking what Iâm thinking?â
âYes.â
âAnd what is thatââ
âI need a drink.â
âCan you stop acting like a dick for one second?â You peer into his glossy eyes, watching him try to avoid your gaze, though he canât seem to resist. âPlease, Logan. Look at me.â
When he does, his mouth parts as if to speak, then closes again. âI donât understand. I thought I didnât have a soulmate.â His gruff tone slows even further, like he's straining to push the words from his lungs. âI thoughtâI thought I was alone.â
It explains so much: how your scars had reappeared once he and Wade returned from The Void.Â
The instant attraction, the yearning to be near him.
The dread that washed over you each time he walked away.
The dreams that plagued your nights, and the tightness in your chest these past few weeks that made you wonder if you could ever coexist in the same space as him without breaking apart.
All those times you felt he was getting closer werenât just a figment of your imaginationâhe was, in fact, right there.
But he wasnât just anyoneâit was him. Logan is your soulmate. You two are meant to be together. How long would it take for you to truly believe it? Until it no longer sounded like something too good to be true?
Without uttering a sound, Logan gazes at you, silently pleading to see them. To see your scars. You extend your arm, and with a gentle motion, he rolls up the sleeve of your shirt, revealing the marks etched into your skin.
He runs his fingers along the lines, trying to understand the bond you now shareâboth his and yours.
In a sense, youâre his. You carry his scars, the physical manifestation of the life he has lived. Even though he may not bear any of his own, you do, and thatâs more than enough.
He belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.
âThere are more,â you tell him. your voice barely above a whisper. He stands, offering you his hand, and you take it, rising to your feet. Logan inches closer, his mouth hovering just above yours, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek.
The look he gives you is one reserved for those he loves, a look filled with such warmth and affection that it almost feels dreamlike.
âDo you want me to see them?â he inquires, and all he needs is a nod from you to gently tug your shirt up your chest and over your head.
He lets out a dry chuckle when you attempt to tame your hair, the effort proving to be in vain. The clock on the wall seems to pause its ticking the moment his fingers begin to trail each of the scars that captures his gaze.
You canât even begin to fathom what thoughts might be swirling in his mind, but if the flicker of lust and desire you catch in his expression is anything to go by, youâre not so worried.
Loganâs touch carries an unexpected softness, a tenderness you never imagined a man like him could possess.
Deep down, you wish he understood that these scars donât hurt, that they never have. âIâm okay,â you reassure him, prompting him to explore more of your skin, to claim you as his.
âDo you⌠like them?â he asks without meeting your eyes.
Do you like my scars? is the real question hidden underneath.
Do you like me? is the one he canât bring himself to pronounce.
âTheyâre yours. I could never not like them.âÂ
Before you stands a man you once believed was meant to be your burden, your trial. Logan had been the earthquake sent to test your endurance, to see how much you could withstand before surrendering and waving the white flag.
The same fingers that once imprinted his mark on you now linger on the strap of your bra, waiting for you to decide whether to let him go further or stop.
Desire has a limit before it overwhelms. Thereâs only so much need a person can contain before it spills over, uncontrollable and raw.
This game, one you never learned how to play, feels as foreign to him as it does to youâneither of you knows the rules.
âCan I see more?â Heâs still talking about the scars, still fumbling with the strap, and you nod, your eyelids growing droopier as you take his free hand and direct it to the front of your jeans.
He catches the hint, undoing the button with ease, allowing you to shed the last layers of restraint.
Bare, moments away from being completely naked, standing in stark contrast to Logan, who remains fully clothed, your stomach does a flip as he rubs his thumb along the sides of your underwear.
Leaning your forehead against his shoulder, you stifle a sigh when he splays his hand across your lower back, pulling you closer.
His rough grip tightens on your ass, testing the feel of you, while your breathing becomes shallow, erratic.
âWhat is it, honey?â He slides his fingers your stomach, just below your belly button, brushing a small scar in there. âWant me to touch you?â
âYes,â you croak, the plea slipping out involuntarily, throwing your arms around his neck. He buries his face against your jaw, his lips parting against your skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.
You tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to him, breathless as you whisper: âIâve waited so long.â
He moves toward the couch, and you follow, trying to anticipate what heâs got planned for you. âI know, baby. I know. Youâve waited long enough.â Guiding your body down, he has you lying horizontally on the sofa. He unhooks your bra, kneading your breasts with both hands, eliciting a ragged gasp from you. âBut Iâm here now. You donât have to wait any longer,â he huffs by your ear, rolling your nipples between his fingers, his breath mingling with yours, each exhale warm and inviting. âGonna let me make you feel good? Show you how much Iâve been thinkinâ about you?â
Instead of answering with real words, you surge forward, crashing your lips against with his, reveling in the way he cages you with his biceps, locking you up in a prison of desire from which you never wish to break free. He tries not to settle his full weight on top of you, attentive not to crush you.
As he nips at the column of your throat, you squirm beneath him, canting your hips up to seek the friction you crave.
He presses his knee against your center and you push back, grinding against him with an animalistic urgency.
You canât recall ever feeling this desperate, this overwhelmed by a man. But then again, heâs unlike any other youâve encountered in your array of momentary hookups.
His kisses grow even more insistent as breathy moans roll off to your tongue, merging with the occasional creak of the couch beneath your movements.
Logan spreads your thighs wider, sinking to his knees on the floor to tug your lower half forward until your ass is almost hanging in the air. He places your thighs on his shoulders, supporting you as he leans in to pepper your soft flesh with kisses.
One can be certain that heâs marking your inner thighs with a hickey or two, the scratch of his beard feeling magnificent against your sensitive skin, and you can hardly bring yourself to think about the potential burn heâll leave behind. Logan inhales your scent, the tip of his nose dangerously close to your cunt, and you tangle a hand in his hair as he continues to test your patience.
âEager?â he wonders aloud, looking at you through his lashes. While maintaining eye contact, he presses a kiss to your clit through the fabric of your panties.
He does it again, and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, his fingers deftly pulling your underwear down your legs.
The first drag of his tongue along your folds has you scrunching your eyebrows in pleasure, tightening your grip on his hair. Logan moans against you, the sound muffled as he dips the tip of his tongue into your entrance, lapping at your arousal with an insatiable hunger.
The way you purr his nameâa soft caress, a pat on his back that says Yeah, youâre doing fineâonly spurs him on, infusing every one of his ministrations with fervor.
His longing for you radiates in the intensity of his touch, sending shivers through you, making you writhe because of his hands alone.
Your core throbs. Your skin prickles with electricity. Your legs quake on either side of his face. Heâs hungry and youâre his feast. Heâs parched and youâre the last bottle of water in an arid world.
Logan eats you out like this will be the only time heâll have the privilegeâeach movement calculated, pushing all the right buttons, pulling out every trick he knows to make you think No, it doesnât get any better than this. This is as much as one can get.
Then his fingers join the symphony of pleasure, pumping in and out of you as he keeps flicking your clit with expert precision, and your back arches from the couch, following his pace with your hips. He pushes back, you push forwardâhe pushes forward, you push back.
Who is enjoying this more: him or you?
His pointed tongue teases your bud, matched with the persistent hammering of his fingers plunged into your wet heat. The combination has you coming on his mouth, falling over the precipice while you struggle to keep yourself together.
Your walls flutter around his digits, and your cries fuse with his groans, both overshadowed by his insatiable desire to savor until the last drop of your release.
Shockwaves ripple through your body and you prop your weight on your arms to capture his lips in a fervent kiss, your eyes rolling rolling back in ecstasy as you taste yourself, a mix of sour and sweet.
In a frenzy, he sheds his clothes, practically tearing them away, and you wrap your hand around his length, stroking him in time with your kisses. Logan pulls back, panting against you, and you steal a glance at him.
Your gaze travels down to his hard cock, the tip a furious red, and he seizes your wrist.
âWhy donât you kiss it better?â he rasps, his voice dropping an octave. In this moment, youâre taken aback by his beauty, and the urge to express it rises within you.
âYouâre so beautiful,â you murmur against his thigh, showering his skin with heated kisses. You stare in disbelief at the trail of hair leading to his girth, mouth watering at the sight.
A kiss on the tip, followed by a broad lick along a prominent veinâLoganâs grip on the armrest tightens, his knuckles turning white. âSo perfect.â
âShut up,â he retorts breathlessly, but you revel in the strangled noise that escapes him as you take him deeper, his head disappearing between your lips. His palm rests on your nape, anchoring you in place. âGoddammit. The fuckinââmouth you have on you.â
You try to take him in further once youâre feeling more confident, while Logan fights with all his might against the need to thrust his hips up into your warmth. He canât stay still, grunting and smothering you with lavish praise that heightens your arousal, slick pouring out of you in waves.
âPretty thing you are. Donât even know how to function around you. You got me allâfuck, actinâ all stupid.â
At one point, he tells you to stop, because he doesnât want to come just yet. You know what comes next as he rubs his cock along your folds, blending your wetness with his precum.
Itâs sloppy, and dirty, and messyâand God, do you love it.
He sinks into you and the world collides in a way you never expected. Everything you thought you knew falls apart, leaving you stranded in unfamiliar territory.
You canât comprehend how youâve spent so many years without him. Without this.
Your lips find his, and he swallows every sound he punches out of your lungs. His thrusts grow harder and faster as you adjust to his size, how big he feels inside you.
He digs his fingers into the globes of your ass, yanking you towards his shaft every time he fucks into you. You feel the brush of his balls against your skin, the way his muscles flex beneath your touch.
To this day, itâs still hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that love is what humans both strive and die for.
You come to understand it fully as his eyes flicker to yours, checking for any signs of discomfort in your features.
You understand why people write books and songs about love when he breathes your name in the shell of your ear, chanting how good youâre taking him, how tight and wet you are for him.
You understand the place love occupies in your life as the sound of your bodies slapping together creates a melody which has never been played before.
You understand why youâve searched for this your entire life, lifting every carpet in hopes of uncovering the love youâve pined for.
In the past, it had always felt like a raceâfinding your soulmate before the clock struck twelve. Now that you have him, you wonder what the future holds for you, how this connection will evolve.
For now, you can allow yourself the possibility of relishing the drag of his cock in your interior. His pace doesnât falter for a secondâsomething about mutants and their non-stop stamina, no doubt. He shoves a hand between your sweaty bodies, rubbing circles on your already swollen bud.
Each time he fills you to the brim, you have to ground yourself, resisting the pull of an altered reality.
âSo full,â you blurt out, mewling with a specially hard thrust, a chocked sob lodged in your throat. âPlease, stay.â
It could mean many things: Please, keep fucking me. Please, donât leave after this. Please, remain by my side form this moment onward, because I donât know how to go on with my life now that Iâve experienced this closeness.
Whatever meaning he ascribes to your words is of little importance. He tightens his arms around you, kissing you deeply, tongue and teeth clashing as they compete to see who wins the battle. âNever. Iâm never lettinâ you go, yâhear me?â
Heat pools in your lower back, a coiling tension radiating through your limbs. âYouâre mine, princess. Canât afford to lose you now that I found you. Gonna remind you every day.â
His rambling pushes you over the edge, your dripping cunt spasming around him as you reach your climax, moaning his name against his shoulder. You cling to him, convulsing beneath his body, and he grinds his hips into yours, his chest rumbling as he growls.
âInside,â you mumble, extending your hand to press it to his waist. âNeed you inside me. Please, I want it so bad.â
Logan stutters against you, his forehead falling against your collarbone as he finishes with one powerful thrust, his cock pulsing warm ropes of come within your cunt. You clench around him, whining as he prolongs both your pleasure and his, milking the last drop of his seed. His voice is a constant murmur, filling every space in the room until he slumps against you.
Night has fallen. The cut on your pinky no longer stings. Your scars, after all, are still there, nestled against Loganâs unmarked skin. You caress his back, sighing contentedly as a wave of peace washes over you.
Youâve never felt this relaxed.
Logan grasps your chin and tilts it up, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. âHey,â he mutters, his gaze roaming all over your face.
You cup his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your palm. âHey, stranger. Long time no see.â
A genuine laugh pierces through the silence. the kind he rarely allows himself. Crinkles form at the corners of his eyes, his brow furrowing as he glances at you with love.
Loveâhadnât you pondered its existence for so long? Your fuel for living, the muse behind your best poems, a recurring motif in your fantasies.
Love now has Loganâs name written in ink, no longer a blank canvas awaiting its unknown owner. Noâitâs all his now.
Youâd do it all over again if it meant ending up like this, tangled and intertwined, with the promise of a future together. He has many stories to shareâabout his past universe, about himself. You have secrets to unveil, too. Thereâs so much you both have yet to discover about each other.
But time isnât up. This isnât a race, you remind yourself: things are just getting started.
Everywhere you go, every place you attempt to set foot in, there it is. Love is dressed up in an expensive silk robe, a ribbon tied neatly on top of it. You reach closer, trying to unravel it, though it's pointless. The moment love sees youâtruly sees your longing for itâit flees, and you struggle to keep up. Love runs faster than anyone, hiding within the bushes, counting the seconds until its next appearance.
Finally, youâve wrapped love around your finger.
dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! <3
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I've touched on this in a couple of other semi-related posts before, but I find it hilarious and I appreciate how much Johanna Hezenkoss thinks Emmrich is the protagonist of Veilguard. Like, this woman could not give less of a fuck about Rook. She almost always refers to Rook only by their relationship to Emmrich. She refers to Rook as "one of Volkarin's hangers-on," "that impudent whelp following [Emmrich] around," "Volkarin's companion," and as Emmrich's "paramour." None of these imply that she thinks Rook has much agency. Instead, she acts like Rook is just helplessly following Emmrich around like a puppy, helping him complete tasks (which I guess is partly true).
If Rook romances Emmrich, Hezenkoss assumes that Emmrich seduced Rook and not the other way around, even though Emmrich is noticeably older than Rook and has hardly left the Necropolis in years. She's seemingly amazed by it, and yet it never once crosses her mind that Rook might have initiated the relationship (which is actually the case).
She also refers to Emmrich as the one who destroyed her construct, which is technically true, but she ignores the major assistance he had from Rook, another companion, and most notably Manfred. He couldn't have pulled it off without their help, and had in fact given up, but Hezenkoss acts like Emmrich was her sole opponent in that battle.
I've said before that part of the reason for this is that Hezenkoss seems to think of herself as the main villain of the story, so Emmrich must be the main hero. Hezenkoss says that some of the other big bads of Dragon Age, the Venatori, were nothing more to her than slightly useful and genuinely annoying. She clearly thinks herself above an entire organization of some of the most powerful mages in the world. And she sees Emmrich as pretty close to her in terms of raw power, since she almost invited him to her Vengeance Party but ultimately decided he was too much of a danger to her plans. She also states that she tried to get him to join her in the past, which I don't think she would do for anyone she considered to be less than her equal. Emmrich is genuinely the only person in the game she shows any respect for. Though she mocks his age and finds him to be too sentimental, too moral, and too fearful, she shows signs of agreeing with him on some topics, and she obviously respects his abilities if nothing else. No one else in the game acknowledges his frankly ridiculous knowledge and skill level (except Solas in the end) as much as Hezenkoss does.
And really, Emmrich does have main character energy. Though he does have some age and mortality related fears, dude is overflowing with confidence. When you first meet him, looking for a Fade expert, he has absolutely no problem telling you he's the best possible person for the job. Though he apparently hasn't left the Necropolis in years, he's totally down to join the team and go anywhere you want him to go. If you romance him, he is initially surprised, but he quickly turns into the smoothest dude around, and throughout the game you can hear him comment on some of his many relationships through the years. He's well-dressed, well-spoken, charismatic, highly educated, unfailingly kind, extremely powerful, and he's done so well for himself that Harding mistakes the son of a butcher and a cook for a member of the Nevarran nobility. No wonder Hezenkoss thinks he's the protagonist. The real protagonist is just out here winging it on guts and good luck alone.
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#johanna hezenkoss#Spoilers#Dragon age the veilguard spoilers#emmrich my beloved#Hezenkoss my beloved#Video games#Bioware#Rpgs#Mine
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Soo... anyone else notice this look from "Better Than Blitzo" right before he kissed Stolas?
Yeeaahhhh, quick question. What the fuck?! lol
It's the epitome of "blink and you miss it," taking up just two frames, which is a single illustration in Helluva Boss.
I actually spent two months making a 30 minute video on this that I uploaded to YouTube back in August. Unfortunately, my channel was taken down in the latest algorithm crawl, but if youâd like to watch it, hereâs a link to it on Odysee and BitChute.
Otherwise, buckle up while I take us on a journey ⨠I have three basic ideas I'll be delving into, split into three posts:
Part One: His tattooâwhat it is, what it means, and what (or who) it could be linked to.
Part Two: Verosikaâhow and why she could have orchestrated things.
Part Three: Just an ex??âwhat his personal motivations could be for taking the time to check if Blitz is watching before kissing Stolas.
Keep reading to dive into Part One!
Before we dive in, just a quick heads-up that I will not be referring to this Incubus as âBetter Than Blitzo.â Partly because itâs kind of long but mostly I just really like the nickname Iâve given him, which is: âIncuBlitz.â
IncuBlitz Part One: His Tattoo
Iâll start things off with the tattoo on IncuBlitzâs arm and its possible significance.
Because this thing is strikingly similar to Stolasâ crest, leading a lot of us to wonderâIs IncuBlitz some sort of Stolas stalker? Or does he work for someone in the Ars Goetia who has a similar crest?
In both cases, I think the barometer is going to be how similar his tattoo is to Stolasâ crest, but Iâll go into a little more detail on why he might be working for another Goetia and who it could be.
I think Aldreaphus, Stolasâ brother-in-law, would be the most likely candidate in this scenario, considering that weâve already been introduced to him and his manipulative nature.Â
In Western Energy, we see him convince Stella to call off the hit on Stolas so that they can wait for, and possibly even create, an opportunity to take advantage of him laterâbe it for his position, wealth, power, or all three.
Even more compelling, we see what appears to be an attack or takeover by Aldreaphus at Stolasâ palace in the trailer for the second half of season two.
Itâs been theorized that he may be hoping to take over Stolasâ position partially because in mythology, heâs actually already known to be an astronomer.Â
This would obviously overlap nicely with Stolasâ duties, which would make him a prime candidate to take over his positionâbe it temporarily until Octavia has finished her training, or perhaps even permanently depending on what heâs capable of and willing to do.
So far, weâve only seen this brief glimpse of him in Western Energy, so we donât know yet what his actual cannon position is in the Goetia family. The mythological Andrealphus is not associated with any sort of ice powers, so itâs possible that this is where any likeness between the two ends.Â
But regardless of any previous knowledge or affinity for astrology, I can see Andrealphus being interested in Stolasâ status and position. Whether itâs to have for himself, or to get close to Octavia so that he can take advantage of his influence with her in the future.
So, in this theory, IncuBlitz would have been strategically placed to get information from Stolas, keep tabs on him, manipulate him, and possibly even to further drive a wedge between Stolas and Blitz.
For any other Goetia, the desire to keep Stolas and Blitz apart could just be for appearances and maintaining the social structure that theyâve put into place.Â
But if Andrealphus is his employer, I think he would have a different reason to keep them apart. And thatâs to keep Stolas from having someone who can protect him.
Because if he knows anything about either attempt by Striker to assassinate Stolas, then he would be aware that in both cases, Blitz or someone under Blitzâs employ, intervened.Â
The first time, they completely stopped him, causing the assassination attempt to be a failure, which resulted in Striker having to actually flee.Â
Then, during the second attempt, despite it being called off by Stella, Moxxie and Millieâs intervention did prevent Striker from bringing Stolas to Stella and Andrealphus, which is what her explicit instructions to him had been.
Now that Iâve covered how a Goetia could be involved, letâs move on to what I personally believe to be the determining factor for both aspects:
How similar is IncuBlitzâs tattoo to Stolasâ Crest?
Because if IncuBlitz is actually a stalker, we would expect the tattoo to be as close to Stolasâ crest as possible. And if it belongs to someone else in the Ars Goetia, that implies that Geotic crests, in general, would all have at least a heart in common.
So far, the only crest weâve seen that we know to be associated with the Geotia family belongs to Stolas. Considering that weâve only ever seen his crest displayed within his own palace, Iâd say that, at best, itâs unclear whether other demon royalty also have similar, heart-themed crests.
But letâs explore that a bit.Â
The seals that weâve seen so far, belonging to several Sins, Paimon, and Stolas himself, all seem to have the same basic structure.
This could lend credence to the idea that other Goetian royalty could also have a similar crest to Stolas. But personally, I donât think itâs likely.
Mostly because Stolasâ crest seems to reflect him personally. From the tip of his five-pointed crown down to his cloak and neck accessory.
We havenât seen much of Aldreaphusâ castle, but in the room that is shown, there does not appear to be anything present that resembles a heart.
In fact, we donât actually know yet if Aldreaphus is canonically a marquee in the Hellaverse, the way he is in mythology. So itâs possible that he doesnât have a crest at all if those are limited to the upper ranks of royalty. But if he does have a crest, I think itâs the snowflake thatâs depicted on his chest and plateware.
At first, I thought his crown being shorter than Stolasâ and only having 3 points was an indicator of lower status. Especially considering that we see Stella, Octavia, and Baby Stolas with similar crowns.
But after realizing that Paimonâs also only has 3 points, I dug a little deeper and found this.
Apparently, there is something called a Celestial Crown that has five points, which are usually depicted with a star on each tip.Â
With Stolasâ job as a Goetia being to study the stars, it makes sense that his crown would be reflective of his line of work.Â
Considering this, I donât think Andrealphusâ ice-themed crown and possible crest give us enough information to determine whether he is or is not a marquee.
But either way, there doesnât appear to be any evidence to support the theory that IncuBlitzâs tattoo is reflective of a connection to himself.
Now, letâs take a look at the tattoo and compare it directly to Stolasâ crest.
One thing I noticed was that even though it doesn't look like his normal crown, he is wearing a crown that looks similar to the tattoo, both as a child and at this particular party as an adult.
I went back and scrubbed through footage of the entire show, trying to find any other instances of this kind of tattoo or imagery.
While Verosika and Millie both have heart tattoos like the one on IncuBlitzâs lower back, the closest thing I could find to the tattoo on his arm is the door to the prototypes at Ozzieâs.
This has led me to believe that it might truly just be a heart with a cupidâs arrow pointing down. Though it does look a little odd with the additional v-shape between the arrowhead and the bottom of the heart. Iâm not sure if thatâs supposed to represent a bow or is just a stylistic choice, but, interestingly, the heart on the back of the romance novel that Stolas is reading at the beginning of this episode does have something similar going on.
So, in the end, I think his tattoo might genuinely just be symbolism. An indication that heâs a kindred âromanticâ spirit, maybe who also wears his heart on his sleeve; Or even simply that heâs just not afraid of love and romance the way that Blitz is. If so, perhaps itâs intended to be another implication of why he is âBetter Than Blitzo.â
Click here for Part Two: Verosika
#helluva boss#helluva analysis#helluva theory#stolitz#better than blitzo#incublitz#stolas#blitz#blitzo#blitzø#andrealphus#apology tour#onehelluvafan
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Between The Lines
Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.
Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series
These can be read in any order!
"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.
"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.
"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to our gullibility and youall fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.
Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.
"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."
The both of them look up so Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.
Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."
"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.
Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.
Script Summary:
Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.
"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.
They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.
"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.
"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."
Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.
"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.
"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.
"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.
"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.
The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.
You all hardly take them out before escaping.
"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.
"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."
There's silence.
A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"
"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.
"For JJ." They all agree.
"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.
End of Script*
You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.
"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.
You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.
"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.
Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.
-
Itâs a Friday nightâor, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldnât be back.
After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidenceâonly to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.
âDrew! Oh my god, you scared me.â Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. âSorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. Thereâs one driver still waiting downstairs.â His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.
âYou sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,â you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.
âThatâs the beauty of insomnia.â He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. âYou canât wake up tired if you never really sleep.â
The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldnât quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:
âSo where are youââ âHow did youââ
You broke into quiet laughter, and Drewâs mouth twitched with amusement. âYou first,â he said, giving you a slight nod.
âHow did you know I hadnât already left with the others?â you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his faceâan emotion too quick to nameâbefore a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.
âI did some askin' around,â he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.
âAh,â you said with a smirk, âso you missed me?â
Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didnât respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.
âYou could say that,â he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if youâd imagined the whole thing.
The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drewâs shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.
Drew didnât dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.
When you arrived, he sprang into action. âCâmon, we donât have time to waste,â he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.
You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everythingâtickets, baggage check, even navigating customsâwith practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasnât just organized; he was determined.
âDo you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?â you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.
He shot you a look, his lips twitching. âI'm not a huge fan of being late,â was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.
Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.
âI was starting to think you two wouldnât make it,â she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.
âDrew made sure that didnât happen,â you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldnât quite suppress.
From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didnât know what youâd said, but it didnât matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.
As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.
And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldnât stop thinking about you. Couldnât stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulderâor wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.
Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe cameron angst#light angst#obx angst
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i swear this was just supposed to be some fun aesthetic swap doodles, but then i started thinking about The Implications and now i have a wholeass story behind this au lol
any world where grace chasity isnât a horny, homicidal prude, we lose the original plot, so this au would revolve more around the church of the starry children then max jägerman lol
solomon decides the best way to wield power in hatchetfield is through religion instead of government and he unites all the tiny denominational churches into his church, becoming the pastor (happening around the same time steph starts middle school.)
it works. almost everyone attends solomonâs church, and it becomes a required social event for anyone whoâs anyone in hatchetfield.
but itâs all a manipulation for bigger purposes as solomon slowly incorporates text from the black book, pushing the church into culty territory.
as the preacherâs kid, steph is under constant scrutiny. she might have wanted to rebel as a kid, but the wrath of god is a much bigger threat than just breaking her phone and solomon uses fear and guilt to keep her in line, turning her into a model of godly behavior (at least on the surface).
the chasitys refuse to join solomonâs church, but their small congregation shuts down when there arenât enough people left.Â
graceâs parents encourage grace to pour all her free time into individual bible study to make up for the lack of church, church activities, and church outings, but grace starts treating the bible like a textbook instead of a spiritual guide.
without structured church activities, her obsession with rules and procedures shifts to the school system
grace unknowingly separates herself from spirituality when her bible obsession becomes academic. sheâs still a christian, but sheâs more likely to corner you in the library to infodump about angelic hierarchies than preach about purity.
travis coulson was ruthâs older cousin. it freaked her the hell out that someone could be bullied that bad that they have to transfer and their entire life is erased for a dumbass lie that everyone believes. so ruth vows that she and her friends will never be outcasts (or timberwolves) and drags pete and richie into a "popularity pact" in fifth grade, forcing them to get cool or else.
the trio spends their summer doing research and practicing social skills. (they basically spend their time practicing masking autism and refining their ability to camouflage.)
the trio starts researching whatâs cool. their findings? football players, student council presidents, and school play leads are the pinnacle of popularity. so, they throw themselves into middle school tryouts and campaigns to fit these roles:
richie tries out for football but ends up as the mascot.
ruth auditions for the lead in the school play but gets relegated to lighting tech.
pete campaigns for class president but only gets elected secretary.
instead of quitting there, they regroup and try again in high school:
richie uses the athleticism he got as a mascot to land him a spot on the swim team.
ruth works her way up to the the student/assistant director for the school plays
pete works his way up the student council ranks, eventually becoming class president.
the trio is finally just cool enough that their quirks get rebranded as "quirky-cool" instead of "weird." they still bond over star wars and anime in secret, but their popularity ensures theyâre never targets again.
#actual plot wise i'm not sure what would go down but i got this background shit figured OUT#i want to tag them as lautskity bc they'd be such an entertaining throuple#nerdy prudes must die#npmd#hatchetfield#starkid#artwork#digital art#my art#lautskity#lautski#stephanie lauter#peter spankoffski#richie lipschitz#ruth fleming#grace chasity
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I saw this and thought of Ari and his Bird right away đ Now how would he react? đ
Dinner is Served...
Summary: You surprise Ari with his favorite meal: You.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, An Appearance from Bucky Barnes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, High Heels, Naked Fun in the Kitchen, Manhandling, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Pussy Eating, Very Mild Chase Kink, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: I think someone actually asked me this a while ago. Maybe. I vaguely remember my answer. However, instead of rehashing that, this is how I think that would go - with a twist! Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
âI sent you the files this morning, Buck.â Ari winces as he shoulders his way into your house from the garage. âItâs not my fault you donât know how to open âem.â
âJust resend them in a different format.â His friend and business partner responds, sounding frustrated.Â
âWhy donât you just give-in and ask Pixie to help you already?â
âBecause sheâs been giving me the silent treatment since Tuesday. Why would I want to risk breaking the streak?âÂ
Rolling his eyes, he drops his bag by the door â only to be surprised when he spots a pair of your panties laying innocently on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that itâs actually one of his favorites. It was part of a set heâd bought you just last month.Â
âWhatâd you do, Barnes?â
âUhâŚâ A heavy sigh can be heard coming from the other side of the phone. âI accidentally broke her fancy little coffee maker.â
âWow.â He responds, disapproval evident in his tone. Â
âHey! I just said it was an accident. She said she had a bad night and so I tried to make her one of those latteâŚmacchiatoâŚthings she likes. And then I broke it.â  Â
âMake it right, Buck.â After toeing off his boots Ari begins making his way towards the kitchen, following the sound of music in the air. He frowns when he spies your blouse in the middle of the hallway. Closely followed by a pair of black leggings.Â
âHow?â God, his buddy could be so goddamned obtuse sometimes.
âFucking apologize. And then buy her another one â a better one.âÂ
âUgh!â The former soldier whines. âI wouldnât even know where to start looking for a replacement. How about Iâ?â
Wait. WAIT. Was that your bra? Just what the fuck was up with this strange trail of clothes?
âBuck, youâre a grown man. And google is your friend.â Ari snaps as he picks up your fallen undergarment, his confusion growing with each passing second. âRestore peace to the land before that woman feels compelled to drop a nuke.â With that he ends the call, now ready to solve whatever mystery heâs just stumbled upon.Â
But what itâs he sees when he rounds the corner that has him stopping dead in his tracks.
âWell, shit.â His mouth goes dry as he watches your hips sway to the music pumping out of the speaker.Â
A low whistle of appreciation has you glancing over your shoulder.Â
If you were being honest, youâd known he was home the moment youâd heard your garage door open. Which was also why your bathrobe was now hastily balled up in your pantry.Â
âWelcome home!â You chirp, not missing the way your manâs eyes darken as they drink you in. âDid you have a good day?â
âWhatâs all this?â Ariâs already deep voice dips an octave as he holds up your previously abandoned bra, dangling it from his finger. But you know heâs not mad. This question is coming from a man who clearly likes what he sees.
Which just so happens to be you. Happily cooking in your kitchen. Wearing nothing but a little makeup and a pair of red heels. Oh, and oven mitts. Canât forget those.
Youâd come across this scenario while aimlessly scrolling on Instagram. And since you were growing more comfortable with the body you saw in the mirror these days, you figured that it might be worth trying your luck. If only to see your manâs reaction.
âOops!â You gasp, trying your best to look apologetic. âI just havenât had a chance to clean up yet. Iâm sorry.â
âBabyâŚâ Ari drags a stunned hand over his jaw. âThatâs not even â ah fuck. Cleaninâ up is the absolute last thing on my mind right now.â Dropping the undergarment on a nearby table, he begins making his way to you â only to come up short once again when he catches sight of your heels.Â
âWhat? Iâm just tryinâ to break âem in. Thatâs all.â
âFuck meee.â He groans under his breath, his eyes going wide at the sight of your latest surprise.Â
âHold that thought, sugar.â With a wink, you turn back towards the stove before bending over to retrieve tonightâs dessert from the oven. Youâre forced to bite the inside of your cheek when you hear your bounty hunterâs sudden intake of breath at the sight of your bare ass.Â
âThere we go.â You hum, playfully fanning yourself with a checkered mitt. âHope you like homemade cinnamon rolls with whipped cream cheese frosting." Tendrils of feminine pride unfurls in your belly when you notice Ariâs impressive hard-on tenting his jeans. "Theyâre the perfect after-dinner treat.â
âThatâsâIâm notâŚâ He cuts himself off, surprising you both with his inability to speak. âWeâthat ainât the kinda treat Iâm hungry for, little Bird.â
âHm.â You nod as you stretch your arms above your head. Giving into temptation, you rise up on your toes before giving a little shimmy, calling attention to your breasts. âNo problem. Whatâs the point of talkinâ about dessert when we havenât even discussed the main course?â
âHuh?â Ari clears his throat, his rapt gaze now focused on your pouting nipples.Â
âTonight weâre having roasted potatoes ââÂ
âI donât give a good-damn about no roasted potatoes, woman!â The bounty hunter rumbles, cutting you off before you can finish telling him your menu. âYou donât need to cook nothinâ else. I already know what Iâm hungry for.â He takes a decisive step in your direction. âItâs just a matter of where Iâm eatinâ.â
âBut you donât even know what weâre havinâ yet!â Comes your incredulous laugh as you bat away his eager hands.Â
âThis right here.â He growls, broadly gesturing at your naked body. âAll of this. Thatâs what I want.â Without warning, he grabs the edge of his t-shirt with both hands before yanking it over his head, revealing his muscled chest. âI'm fuckin' starvin'.â
âBut Iâm not on the menu!â You shriek, throwing a dish towel at him the next time he gets too close. The next thing you know, this man is now chasing you around your own kitchen, his long legs quickly eating up the space between you.Â
Fuck it was hard to run in heels!Â
âNow I donât mind where I dine, darlinâ.â Your man purrs, his already sexy voice pitched to arouse. âWe can take it to the bedroom. The living roomâŚâ
âBeast!â You burst into a fit of giggles as you attempt to fend him off with the help of a chair. âNeed I remind you that we are in the kitchen?â
Now that makes him pause. But only for a second.Â
âIt ainât the first time Iâve had you in here.â The chair youâve been holding is gently ripped from your grasp. âPretty sure Iâve devoured that pussy in every room of this house.â You watch in defeat as he sends your last little bit of protection skidding across the floor. âDid you forget how wet you got the last time I splayed you out on this-here table? Because I havenât.â
One rough, slightly calloused hand grips the back of your neck â drawing you closer.Â
âRemember how I made you hold yourself open for me?â His lips ghost over yours â the sharp nip of his teeth causing your heart to beat erratically in your chest. âRemember the way your thighs shook every time you gushed around me?â He moans softly, the erotic sound going straight to your dripping cunt.Â
âIâIf you donât want the potatoes, weâre also havingâŚumâŚâ You canât help but whimper when he abandons your throat in favor of grabbing a hearty handful of your ass. âHerb roasted chickenâŚâ
âI get so hard whenever I think about the way you drenched my fuckinâ beard, baby.â Ari gives you a playful squeeze before lifting you by your hips and depositing you on the table as if you weigh nothing. âMy good girl always makes such a mess for me. Donât you?âÂ
âCould I perhaps interest you in some honey glazed carrots?â However, your weak attempt at redirection is completely ignored.
A heady thrum of excitement courses through you when you feel your back connect with the cool, wooden surface. And then Ariâs hands come to rest on your knees, gently prying them apart, baring your most intimate flesh.Â
âLook at you.â He rasps, tenderly stroking your slick folds. âFuckinâ soaked already. And here we are just gettinâ started.â He parts you with thick fingers before leaning down to press a kiss to your puffy clit, making your hips buck.Â
âYeah,â he continues. âThis is the only honey I give a fuck about tonight.â Gripping your ankle, he drapes your leg over one broad shoulder, opening you up to him even more. And then he reaches for the remote to your speaker, turning up the volume of the music that had since become little better than background noise.Â
âDonât want any interruptions while I enjoy my meal. Especially since you spent so much time preparinâ it.â Ari drags your body towards the edge of the table before taking a seat in a chair and placing a napkin across his lap. âAnd donât worry about me needing any silverware, sweet BirdâŚâ He murmurs as his mouth descends upon your vulnerable, quivering pussy.
âI don't mind gettin' my hands dirty.â
END
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#cevansbrat0007 asks#cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series#chris evans imagines#ari levinson imagines#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans x you#ari levinson x you#chris evans x black!reader#ari levinson x black!reader#chris evans x woc!reader#ari levinson x woc!reader#chris evans x black reader#ari levinson x black reader#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans x girlfriend!reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female!reader#ari levinson x girlfriend!reader#chris evans x poc!reader#ari levinson x yn#chris evans x yn#ari levinson x y/n#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson girlfriend!reader#chris evans x curvy!reader#ari levinson x curvy!reader
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Where Do You End? Where Do I Begin?
Warnings: Fluff, Soft Smut, 18+
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: After a long day, all you want is to feel Alexia.
Request
ib: âmeltâ by kehlani
-
Today had been utterly exhausting, a marathon of meetings filled with droning voices and meaningless jargon, business calls that drained your patience, and men who seemed barely competent in their roles. They lacked the simplest common sense, and by the time you walked through the door of your shared home, you felt the weight of the day pressing against your shoulders. All you wanted was Alexia. The comfort of her presence, the grounding of her touch, the release of tension only she could provide. You wanted to hold her, to feel her warmth against you, to pour yourself into pleasing her â because in doing so, youâd find solace too.
Now, you lay sprawled across the bed, your body draped over hers as if you could fuse into one being. Her skin glows faintly, her chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm that soothes the restless ache inside you. Her eyes are closed, her expression serene, still lost in the aftershocks of the pleasure youâd just given her. Your hair, a tangled mess, mingles with hers in a way that blurs the lines between you.Â
Your fingers trace the tattoo on her inner left arm, moving in absent, reverent patterns. The inked design feels almost as familiar as your own skin. You and Alexia are so attuned to each other, so deeply entwined in every sense of the word that itâs hard to remember that youâre two separate people. Itâs as though the world doesnât recognise one without the other. You wonder fleetingly if others see it too; when they think of her, do they picture you somewhere close by? The thought makes your heart swell.
Your touch shifts, fingers gliding from the soft skin of her arm to the curve of her shoulder and up to the delicate ridge of her collarbone. Your caress is featherlight, intimate, a silent declaration of love meant only for her to feel. Her breaths are deep and even, and you unconsciously sync your own to hers, your chests rising and falling together as though tethered by some invisible thread.
These sacred pockets of time where itâs just the two of you are rare. Her demanding schedule and your equally relentless job often keep you apart. But when you have her here, like this, the world fades. You cling to it, knowing itâs fleeting yet wishing it could stretch on forever.
Her head shifts slightly, her cheek pressing against the top of your head as she plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. Her fingers brush away a few stray strands of hair from your face, her touch as tender as her voice when she whispers, âAre you tired?â
You shake your head, nuzzling closer before pressing a soft kiss to her chest. âAre you?â
Her lips curve into a lazy, satisfied smile. You canât help but giggle, the sound light and full of affection, knowing exactly how drained she must feel after what youâd done for her.
Leaning up, you press a lingering kiss to her lips. When you pull back, she surprises you by cupping the back of your head, holding you in place. Her lips press more firmly against yours, her kiss deepening as if she wants to draw every bit of your soul into her. Before you know it, sheâs rolling you onto your back with an ease that takes your breath away, her body hovering over yours.
Her knee slides between your legs, pressing against your core just enough to draw a soft moan from your lips. The sound is caught by her, swallowed into the kiss as she applies more pressure, coaxing another from you. You try to lift yourself onto your elbows, craving the closeness, but she pushes you back down, her palm gentle yet firm on your shoulder.
âLet me do this for you,â she murmurs. Her gaze locks onto yours, her smile soft yet commanding in its tenderness. âYouâve had a long day. Just relax, mi amor.â
With a sigh, you nod, surrendering completely to her as you sink deeper into the bed, allowing her to take the reins.
She starts with a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips warm and lingering as if savouring the first touch. Then her head dips lower, her breath brushing against your neck before her mouth begins its delicate work. Her kisses are tender at first, a gentle pressure against your skin, but they quickly deepen. She sucks softly, her tongue darting out to trace invisible patterns, followed by the slightest graze of her teeth.
You can feel her love in every movement, itâs raw, intimate, and utterly consuming. Itâs something youâll never grow tired of.
Her kisses wander lower until her mouth reaches your chest. She places a lingering kiss over your heart before moving to take your nipple into her mouth. Her free hand moves to your other breast, her fingers kneading gently, sending ripples of pleasure through your body. Your hand instinctively threads through her hair, your fingertips brushing against her scalp as you look down at her.
Her hand begins a slow descent, fingers brushing down your sides and then over your upper thigh. She traces circles there, her touch maddeningly light as she inches closer to the spot where you ache for her most. You shift beneath her, your thighs parting in silent invitation, but she takes her time, relishing the journey as much as the destination.
Eventually, she lowers herself fully, her body stretching out between your legs. Her arms wrap around your thighs, holding them open with an ease that makes you feel exposed and cherished all at once. Her lips find the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, placing soft kisses there. Each one feels like a promise, her devotion spelled out in every touch. She moves slowly, torturously, until finally, her mouth reaches your clit. She presses three soft pecks before taking it into her mouth and sucking with a perfect rhythm.
A gasp escapes you, your head falling back onto the pillow as the pleasure starts to build. Her tongue and lips work in perfect harmony, slow and intentional, her movements designed to drive you higher. âThat feels so good, Ale,â you whisper, your voice breathless.
She hums in response, the vibration resonating through you, amplifying the sensations. Your fingers tighten in her hair, needing more of her. Her tongue moves lower, teasing at your entrance, and you pull her head closer.
You feel her smirk against you, a small, knowing curve of her lips that sends a flush of heat through you. Itâs that same teasing smile she gives when she knows sheâs driving you wild, when she knows youâre at her mercy. âPatience, amor,â she rasps, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. The sound alone makes your breath hitch, and you bite your lip, forcing yourself to obey her, to let her take control.
When her tongue finally plunges inside you, itâs as if every nerve in your body ignites at once. She moves with precision, devouring you in a way that leaves you helpless, lost to the overwhelming pleasure sheâs giving you. Your back arches off the bed, a soft cry of her name spilling from your lips. It becomes a chant, breathy and desperate, a prayer offered only to her.
Her thumb joins in, rubbing firm circles over your clit in perfect sync with her tongue. The added sensation sends you spiralling, the pleasure building until itâs too much to contain. âFuck, Alexia. Donât stop,â you beg, your voice breaking with need.
And she doesnât. She keeps her pace steady, unrelenting, driving you higher until you shatter beneath her touch. Your legs clamp around her head, holding her there as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembling with the force of your climax. She stays with you, guiding you through it, her tongue and thumb working until the sensations become too much. You nudge her away, your body oversensitive and trembling.
Alexia places soft, grounding kisses along your thighs as you come down, her touch gentle, reassuring. Slowly, your breathing evens out, the haze of pleasure fading just enough for you to open your eyes and meet her gaze. She smiles at you, a soft, satisfied curve of her lips, before crawling up your body.
âStrap?â she asks hesitantly.
âOkay, but be gentle,â you reply.
âVale, gentle,â she promises with a soft smile, leaning in to give you a lingering kiss. She stays for a moment before she rises and you watch as she grabs the harness, the way she adjusts it around her hips, her eyes flickering to meet yours.
When she crawls back onto the bed, her weight presses the mattress just enough to snap your focus back to her presence. She situates herself between your legs, her hands finding your thighs and beginning a slow caress. Her fingers trace over your skin, her eyes trained between your legs, dark with thought. You can see her considering every movement sheâs about to make, every touch sheâll deliver.
âReady?â Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as she looks up at you, searching your face for any hesitation.
You nod, your heart pounding as you give her your trust. âReady.â
Her lips curve into a smile thatâs as reassuring as it is alluring. She shifts slightly, positioning the toy against your slit. The initial contact sends a shiver through you, her movement of coating the toy in your essence. Her eyes never leave you, watching the subtle changes in your expression as she begins to press it inside.
The stretch is slow and steady. Your teeth catch your bottom lip as your eyes flutter shut, then open again to find her watching you. Sheâs always watching, making sure youâre okay, making sure you feel good.
Her hands settle on either side of your waist as she leans over you, her body close enough that you feel her warmth. She starts with a gentle rhythm, sliding the toy in and out of you, her movements measured and precise. You both glance down, watching the space where your bodies connect, the intimacy of it all heightening the moment.
She keeps her word, her thrusts firm but unhurried. It doesnât take long for the pleasure to build, your earlier arousal intensifying every sensation. She knows your body so well, knows exactly how and where to touch to bring you the most pleasure. Itâs like sheâs mapped you out in her mind, memorised every reaction, every gasp.
Her head dips to your neck, her nose brushing your skin as she nuzzles into you. Her breath is warm and uneven, and you feel the subtle increase in her pace as her movements grow more intentional. You kiss her temple, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your legs hook around her waist, holding her in place while still giving her room to move.
Her lips find your jaw, trailing soft kisses upwards before returning to your neck. Each press of her mouth feels like a declaration, a silent claim that you are hers as much as she is yours. The pressure builds as she begins to thrust harder, your whispered, almost desperate, âHarder,â urging her on.
âHarder?â she asks, her voice husky and teasing. You hum your affirmation, and she obeys, increasing the intensity of her movements. The change makes you cry out, your nails digging into her back as she hits a spot that makes your entire body tremble.
The sound she makes â a heavy exhale thatâs more a groan than a sigh â only spurs you on. Her teeth sink into your shoulder in response, a mix of pleasure and possession that makes you shudder beneath her.
You hear her moan softly as the base of the strap presses against her clit with every thrust, bringing her closer to her own release. Her breathing grows heavier, more laboured. âFuck, Iâm close,â she admits, her voice breaking slightly.
You pull her even tighter against you, your hands roaming over her back, needing to feel her as she reaches her peak. Her thrusts become erratic, desperate, her hips rocking into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Her body begins to shake, and her moans grow louder.
When she finally comes, her moans spill into your ear, her teeth sinking deeper into your shoulder as she rides out her climax. The mixture of pain and pleasure makes your head spin, but you try your best to focus on her â the way her body tenses and then relaxes, the way she clings to you in her most vulnerable moment.
Her movements slow but donât stop entirely, her focus shifting back to you. The pleasure sheâs been building within you crests, and your body trembles as you reach your own release. Your hands clutch at her, your face buried in her shoulder as the waves of your orgasm crash over you.
Eventually, her hips still, and the two of you lay tangled together, breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat and glowing with satisfaction. She brushes soft kisses along the mark she left on your shoulder, her lips featherlight and filled with apology and affection. She trails kisses up your neck and finally captures your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
When she pulls back, her eyes meet yours, full of love. âI love you, mi amor,â she whispers, her voice soft and sincere.
You smile, your fingers threading into her hair as you reply, âI love you too, Ale.â
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas smut#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso fanfics#woso one shot#barca femeni#barca femini x reader#espwnt x reader#espwnt
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