#day 3: Flower Language | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jks1uv · 3 months ago

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𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐸𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ; mark grayson / invincible

summary: in every universe, mark grayson turns into his father and seals his destiny as a true viltrumite. what if things are different this time?

pairing: fem!reader x mark grayson.

trope: childhood best friends to lovers + fated lovers.

genre: fluff + angst + slow-burn romance + hurt / comfort + some comedy.

warnings‼️: crude language + spoilers for s3 (mark’s variants) + amber & eve never get w mark but r goated wingwomen & friends for reader + william, rick & rex r goated wingmen for mark + 2 jealous!mark moments + the tiniest moment of tension + multiverse talk + a mention of the chicago incident feat. scott / powerplex + REX LIVES 🗣️‼️🔥🔥 + a short & sweet kiss scene.

word count: 9,968.

random disclaimerrr: when eve said “you don’t deserve this” 😞 like he always just out here suffering 💔 kate, immortal, cecil & scott pmo so bad like bruh can y’all just pls stfu pls 🙏🏽 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY GOAT REX IS DEAD LIKE BRUH HOW 😭😞💔 but the 2 ppl majority of the fandom hates get their happy ending… mkay… edit: here’s the sequel! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Mark Grayson has always liked you.

It was the first day of school, 2nd grade homeroom. The first day of school was always nerve wracking but this time was different.

His desk was next to you per the seating chart and you were the last kid to come in.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with some white bows on it and sky blue jeans with pink flowers embroidered on the pockets. White twinkle toes with pink and purple rhinestones. Your hair was styled in 2 ponytails with cute bows on the bands.

Your eyes bright and a shy smile on your lips.

“Hi.” You bashfully said to him.

“Hi.” He said back in a daze.

His seven year old heart was fluttering and he was as red as a tomato when he realized it was you! You were the girl whose empty desk he was seated next to!

You always shared homeroom, if not, recess with him in elementary school.

Then came middle school, where you had at least 2 classes with him.

High school was a bit easier as you saw him 3-4 times a day, and that’s not including clubs or other extracurricular activities.

He spent 11 years like that. Seeing you in class, in the hallways, at lunch or after school.

Your relationship with him never wavered. Your character was still the same even after new chapters and opportunities for development.

He’s endured some insane shit, but he’s so happy the one constant in his life remained consistent.

“You still have a crush on her?!”

“Shut up, William. Or do you want the whole world to know.” Mark chides.

William snorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is). “The whole world already knows, it’s just your dumbass that’s somehow oblivious.”

“Give the lover boy a break.” Amber lightly teases.

Mark sighs and rubs his face with his hands, trying to hide the redness creeping up on him without his consent.

“Is that her?” Rick points towards Mark’s dream girl.

But what he forgot to mention was the living explosion (literally) walking alongside you.

“What’s he doing here?” Eve’s surprised Rex decided to step foot on college campus willingly.

William subtly side-eyes Mark and makes a desperate attempt to hold in his laughter by squeezing Rick’s hand.

Mark slowly stands, a confused look on his face. “I’ll… go find out.” He says it like a question, like he’s unsure if that’s what he should do.

Amber and Eve share a knowing look.

“You’re funny.” You say as you catch your breath.

Rex shrugs nonchalantly and smirks. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You’re shaking your head and are about to say something when you see Mark in front of you.

“Mark.” Your eyes crinkle as you smile. You go in for your usual hug and Mark accepts it.

Unbeknownst to you that he’s making wide eyes among other facial expressions in a desperate attempt to make contact with the other male.

The hug lasts for a second longer and you ignore the butterflies that swarm your belly, deducing that he probably just wanted to hug you a bit longer.

No big deal you think as you’re screaming inside the longer you feel Mark’s arms around your waist.

When you meet Mark’s face, he allows himself to give you a tight-lipped smile.

“Mark, this is—”

“Rex! Heyy, how’s it going?” He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head a bit. “Yeah… wait, you guys know each other?”

Rex is enthusiast with his reply. “Fuck yeah! This is my best bro.”

He slaps Mark’s back with a confident grin and his “bro” laughs awkwardly.

You know, one of those ‘ha ha ha’ type laughs.

“Okay. So, um, Mark?”

“Yeah?” Aaand his voice cracks.

You politely ignore it but Mark wants to die inside.

“I was wondering if you were still down to go to the mall?”

Mark knows you’re attentive and take your friendships seriously. That isn’t old news. But he can’t help feeling special that’s you remembered a thought from a couple days prior.

“Only if you buy me boba.”

Mark never lets you buy him anything if he can help it, and that’s how it’s always been.

You insist, he denies; but that doesn’t mean his sentiment isn’t nice.

You blink and softly smile at his bargain. “Deal.”

Rex hums thoughtfully, a hand at his chin and his gaze on the sky. “Can I join? I don’t have anything going onnn~” He suggests in a sing-song manner.

“No, you can’t!” Mark suddenly yells.

You look at Mark with furrowed brows. “Mark, don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Mark, don’t be rude.” Rex repeats with a sly expression.

Mark deeply exhales through his nose and puts on a fake smile. “Rex, can I talk to you? Alone.”

“Sure!”

He follows Mark about 15 steps away from you.

You decide to sit down on a bench nearby and watch some TikTok to pass the time.

“Hey, so, um- quick question: what the hell are you doing here?”

Rex scoffs. “What, I can’t come visit my bro?”

Mark quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Rex puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll be honest. I was here to talk to you about Cecil,” He looks over at you and sighs dramatically.

“But?” Mark presses when he sees Rex eyeing you.

“I see a hot girl and I can’t help myself, you know?” He smirks knowing he’ll rile Mark up and get the exact reaction he wants.

Mark immediately gets in his line of sight, making Rex back up a bit from the fast and unforgiving wind.

“Woah, man! A little warning next time before you almost blow me away?”

Mark ignores him. “Don’t call her that.”

The truth is, Rex came to campus with a purpose.

Mark never talks about you, but Eve may have let your name slip into conversation a few times.

Rex may be aloof and jerk-ish but he’ll be serious when it’s time.

He’s seen the way Mark’s face changed every time Eve mentioned you; his head would tilt slightly, he’d have a small, unnoticeable smile on his lips.

Rex suspected a crush and he was right! Of course he was, look at the way he’s being defensive of you.

There was just one problem, he didn’t know how you looked. He asked Eve and she was suspicious, but when he revealed his own suspicions, she indulged him.

So, the two of them made a plan with Amber, William and Rick; Operation: Get Mark To Man Up and Admit His Feelings Before You Slip Away.

- FLASHBACK -

“She’s wearing a PINK t-shirt with ripped blue jeans. Oh, and a black backpack.” William directs.

��Pink shirt, black backpack, ripped blue jeans. Got it.”

“PINK as in the brand, not the color.” Amber reminds.

“Wait, what? So what color is the shirt?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s dark green..? And the logo is an even darker shade. ” Eve remembers.

Rex is so unimpressed.

“So, let me get this straight; she’s wearing a shirt from the brand PINK, but it’s just dark green?”

“I’d say you’re on the right track.” Rick chimes.

“This shit is ridiculous. I mean, seriously. Why can’t you girls just wear stuff that warrant normal descriptions?”

“Shut up, Rex.” Amber and Eve say simultaneously.

- FLASH FORWARD -

“Alright, her unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

Mark is about to defend himself against that true baseless allegation when William and Rick find him.

“What’re we gossiping about?” There’s a glint in William’s eyes, the kind you don’t miss if you’re paying attention to the very specific lilt in his tone.

“Oh, I was just telling Marky boy here,”

Mark side-eyes Rex at the ridiculous nickname.

“How he’s Y/n’s unwanted, meddling knight in shining armor.”

William claps his hands together. “That’s actually an accurate assessment.”

Mark’s offended. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Rick clears his throat as a guise to hide the very subtle laugh itching his throat.

“Sassy.” William says impressed in his best friends comeback skills.

Rex gets a phone call and excuses himself, giving William a crisp high-five and Rick a chest bump.

“Go get your Juliet, Romeo!” He cheers.

William shakes his head as he guffaws at the man.

“Dude, he's hilarious. How come you've never introduced him to us before?”

“Do I really have to answer that?”

William rolls his eyes at him. “Anyways. When are you gonna tell Y/n you love her, again?”

“William!” Mark whines.

Rick smiles and expands his thinking. “He meant to say, you should tell her soon. Before she's with someone else and leaves you to collect the pieces of your broken heart.”

“Not gonna lie, that's exactly what he needs to hear right now.”

Mark can't lie either. “Yeah. You kinda ate with that.”

William cringes and Rick winces with embarrassment.

“Hey! So, uhh, never say that again. Hope this helps.” William makes a finger heart.

“Wha- but I used the phrase correctly! Oh, come on guys, seriously?”

- MEANWHILE, WITH AMBER & EVE -

Amber and Eve thought it’d be a good idea to have a quick chat with you while you were waiting on Mark.

They casually brought up relationships and basically implied that ‘men ain’t shit’, but you disagree with that attitude.

“I dunno... Mark’s a good guy.”

“Oh yeah, for sure! Mark’s one of the good ones.”

Eve nods along to Amber’s statement.

She reminisced on her fair share with toxic relationships. She deliberately left out how it was with Rex but that’s okay, you don’t need to know that…

“Are you and Mark..?”

You feel your cheeks warm at the thought but you’d be lying if you deny your feelings for him.

“No.” You state with your head down and hands in your lap, playing with a ripped thread on your jeans.

“Huh. That’s a shame.” Eve comments.

That gets your attention.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that you and Mark seem…”

“Ideal.” Amber completes smoothly.

Your wide eyes and mouth agape give you away.

“You've never thought about him like that?”

You have, but how do you admit this to Mark’s coworker and friend without it getting back to him?

You think Amber and Eve are cool, they’re nice to you; but they're more Mark’s friends.

To you, they're friends of a friend.

Amber senses your hesitation and sat down next to you.

“We won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Eve locks her lips with an imaginary key and throws it away.

That elicits a small laugh out of you, making you feel a bit more confident to share your secret.

You look over and see Mark and Rex still talking, now joined by William and Rick.

You contemplate for a moment before admitting it.

“Yeah.” You breathe out.

Eve hums in thought. “Let me guess, you don’t want to say anything in case it’ll fuck up the friendship?”

You gasp lightly at her spot-on description. “How’d you know?!”

She just shrugs nonchalantly and Amber bites her tongue to point out how obvious the entire situation is.

“I do like him, a lot... but what if he doesn’t feel the same? I would've ruined something special for something selfish and it would stay with me forever.”

You rant to the 2 girls you’re closest with and somehow, it feels right. You dismiss the thought of them turning out like the average mean girls in a teenage rom-com.

“But what if he does like you back?” Eve proposes.

“Then he’ll have to make the first move.” You shrug obviously.

“I know that’s right.”

You feel giddy from Amber’s approval.

She’s always been the type to keep it short and sweet but once you get her talking? She’ll always keep it real.

“We gotta go but we’ll see you later?”

Eve's already planning on the next hangout because she likes you enough to wanna help. She doesn’t like a lot of people so consider yourself special!

“Oh! Uh- yeah! Sure, that works with me.”

“It’s settled then.”

“See ya, Y/n.”

Coincidentally, you see the boys leave, leaving Mark to come to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

“Just let me try it.” Mark whines.

You shook your head and stood your ground. “It'll be gone in under ten seconds.”

He gasps dramatically, a hand to the heart like a lady of the opera. “You don't have faith in me?! I am a superhero-”

“I'm sure that's what they say.”

Your sarcasm isn’t foreign but he grows quiet at the remark.

It just slipped out so easily, without care or regard. You immediately try to make it right.

“I’m sorry, Mark.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t mean it like that.”

Ever the sweetheart but you refuse.

“No, it isn’t.” You stop walking. “I was careless with what I said and it’s not right.”

He looks at you with appreciation and gives you a smile. “Thank you, Y/n. It feels nice to be seen as I am.”

That both warms and saddens your heart.

You know how much he’s been through and even though you’ll never truly understand, you know he can still count on you. You’ll be there for him and that’s gotta mean something.

“Of course.”

You and Mark spend the next hour chatting and idly checking out things in the stores.

You wander into the dress and gown section and are completely in awe of the collection. Every color you can think of in every style: silky, thigh cut, halter top, strapless.

Your hands run through the material and you’re reminded of the spring formal coming up soon.

Not everyone gets the chance of going but you have a friend who extended the courtesy of inviting you and a plus one.

You recall the last time you went to a dance: your senior year of high school's prom. It was memorable. You were a part of a small group that went together; consisting of your friends.

You took photos with Mark and danced with him for a bit but not like anything you wished. There's nothing romantic about screaming club anthem lyrics while getting twerked on but since it was Mark's ass, you didn’t complain.

That was the first and last time he accepted drinks from William, by the way.

You chuckle quietly to yourself in memory of that glorious night when Mark comes up behind you.

"You ready to go or do you wanna try some of them on?"

You take another look at the gorgeous dresses and think.

Mark's hoping you say yes.

He won't admit it anytime soon and despite him already thinking you're the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, prom night solidified that for him.

You had him starstruck.

His hear stuttered, adrenaline rushed through his veins and conjured up a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

SImply put, every feeling and action that describes a man in awe of a pretty lady was an accurate depiction of him.

“Nah, maybe some other time.” You decide.

Mark nods, looking forward to the future dress tryouts. “Okay.”

Later, you have dinner with Mark, Oliver and Debbie.

Mark flew out and brought home some authentic pasta and garlic bread from Italy.

You rolled your eyes playfully and claimed he was being “extra” but reevaluated your statement when you thought about it.

If you could move that fast, you'd go to another country to have their finest food as well.

“It's so good to have you, honey.”

Debbie was always so nice to you, it made you feel happy and proud of yourself knowing someone's mom wholeheartedly accepts your presence in their kids life.

“It's good to be here.”

“Are you gonna stay the night?!” The purple little boy asked full of hope.

You didn't want to let him down but you had no choice.

“I'm sorry, Oliver, but not tonight.” You ruffle his hair and give him an apologetic smile.

You know he's bummed out when he doesn't sound that infectious laugh and tell you you're messing up his hair.

“Oh.”

You feel Mark's gaze on you and when you look up, he offers a sympathetic smile.

“I can stay until it's time for you to sleep.”

You know you've got him, it's an offer he can't refuse.

He's all smiles now and hugs you by the waist, his head laying on your chest.

You smile and hug him back, your head laying on his.

Mark cleans the table and Oliver takes out the trash while you help Debbie with the dishes.

“It doesn't matter how many times I say “no”, does it?”

You hum and shake your head. “Nope.”

You make small talk while you dry after she scrubs and rinses. About college, your plans after college, Mark.

“What about him?” You wonder.

“I mean, how has be been since...”

You see a look of helplessness on her face.

Debbie may be his mother but even she is not immune to the conflict of secrecy in her son's life.

You instantly feel bad.

Mark always tells you everything but to have his own mom ask you things about her son makes the situation complex.

You turn your head over your shoulder and see Mark playing a video game with his baby brother.

When Mark told you about Nolan, what happened to them on Thraxa and the events that unfolded afterwards, you didn't know how to respond.

As if hearing Nolan reveal his plans for Earth and call Debbie a “pet” wasn't heartbreaking enough, you were there with Debbie when Mark was brutally assaulted by his own father.

Then you hear of Nolan's second family he while the first one was still trying to keep it together and deal with the devastating aftermath of the biggest betrayal.

You almost cried when Mark broke down about Angstrom Levy hurting Debbie and Oliver.

You were out of the country on a field trip with your classmates when that happened. Devastated was an understatement for how you felt to hear both Mark and Debbie in the hospital from William.

Mark shamefully admitted to killing Angstrom, thinking that would sever the bond between you two. He expected you to be afraid of him, no matter how awful he’d feel about doing that to you.

It was the total opposite, you embraced him and let him cry on your shoulder. You let him feel everything but you also let him feel your hand in his.

You looked him in the eyes and told him that he did what he had to do and if killing Angstrom was the solution, then so be it.

“Mark told me everything. From seeing Mr. Grayson—”

You see a flash of hurt in Debbie's eyes at the mention of his name and almost forget that before he was known as Omni-Man, he was Mr. Grayson. He was Mark's dad.

“—again and about Oliver. Up until Angstrom and how the last thing he did was hurt you and Oliver.”

Debbie drys her hands and looks out of the window above the sink.

You can tell she’s disassociating. Her eyes seem so far away and crestfallen.

You don’t know if she’s getting much sleep but you also can’t imagine getting any if you were her.

You put a hand on her shoulder and she’s visibly shaken out of her thoughts.

“He’s gonna be okay, and so are you.”

She looks at you like you’ve lit up a candle at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Debbie leans in for a hug, eliciting a small sigh when you strengthen the embrace a little.

You figured she should feel taken care of for once.

“Thank you.”

You hear her sincerity and make a mental note to talk about this with Mark later on.

Oliver is tired out from having a “good playdate” with you and his older brother.

You tuck him in for the night per his request and can't help but feel the warmth from taking care of him touch your heart.

He's a growing boy but despite the many changes one goes through due to that constant stage of life, his feelings for you don't change.

Mark loves how much Oliver loves you. He loves seeing 2 of the most important people in his life get along so well, secretly admiring the way you've grown a soft spot in his mother's heart, too.

“They grow up so fast.” Mark attempts to humor.

You hum and try your best not to cry dwell on the bittersweetness of that phrase.

“Yeah.”

You're sitting on Mark's bed, looking fondly at the one of many drawings the kid made for you.

You softly exhale and bring up the conversation you had earlier with Debbie.

“Mark, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

He looks at you knowingly. “I know.”

Your eyes widen a bit at that revelation. “You do?”

He nods, a pursed smile on his face. “I have super hearing, remember?”

How did you forget that?

You close your eyes and exhale sharply, feeling silly for forgetting that power of his. “Right, duh.”

You don’t want to push the conversation if he’s not feeling it but you want to know if you did the right thing.

“I... didn’t overstep… right?”

“Oh, no. No, you didn’t.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… haven’t had the best time talking to her about the things I say to you.”

You nod in understanding.

“I felt bad when she asked you how I’m doing. She should be able to ask me that.”

He’s guilt-stricken and it makes you feel dejected.

“Mark.” You put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard talking to your mom about your inner turmoil but you’re all she has.”

Who does Debbie go to when she wants to discuss the matters of her heart? Who’ll listen when she wants someone to talk to?

“You give her the strength to carry on so let her give you some peace of mind, hm?”

Mark’s eyes shine with a strong fondness for you, his mind wiped clean of all things difficult and heart ten times lighter.

You’ve always understood him, whether he explains himself or not. You could always just know.

Your heart and emotional intelligence are perhaps his favorite things about you.

“You okay?” You ask, worried you’ve overstepped again.

“Never been better.” He promises.

A soft smile graces his lips as he leans in to hug you.

You accept it with an equal gentle expression and when you feel his arms wrap around your middle, you feel good.

Mark is invulnerable but not when it comes to the war between his mind and heart, that’s when you step in. And when you do, there’s always a resolution found in great clarity.

You feel his heartbeat above yours and unconsciously, they sync. His breathing evens out with yours.

It feels intimate, this hug.

You’ve hugged him a million times before but none of them have felt quite like this.

A heavy weight on his shoulders has evaporated and you can feel his gratitude.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” He murmurs.

You tilt your head back a bit so he can see you. “Then don’t.” You shrug, like it’s the most obvious answer.

He chuckles lightly and blinks at you, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of his arms loosening around you and replacing the warmth with his hands on your hips.

You subconsciously gulp and watch his eyes flicker towards your eyes, lips then back to your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear he moves his head a little closer to you; just enough to barely touch noses.

Your stomach is in a frenzy and your hands feel clammy.

Is this really happening?

But then, like a switch being flipped off; he gingerly clears his throat and backs away.

You blink, catching yourself in a daze and he gets up to put on a movie.

He acts like he wasn’t just about to kiss you, as if that chemistry was just a figment of your imagination.

You don’t have the guts to say anything, to ask the obvious. So, you also pretend that you two weren’t just about to fulfill your biggest ‘what if?’ scenario.

“Oh, wow… that’s crazy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

It was nice to hear sympathies from the only people who you could afford to talk about this with. They’re also the only people who wouldn’t go and spread the telltale truth of the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I can’t believe he fumbled this badly.” Amber facepalms herself in disbelief.

She sighs in exasperation and plops down on your bed with an arm covering her eyes.

Eve doesn’t move from her position; leaning on your wall with her arms crossed and her face in thought.

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?” You wonder aloud.

Amber peeks an eye out from under her elbow and Eve shakes her head.

“No, no, no. Trust me, that’s not it.”

“Don’t seem so sure.” You grumble as you pick at your nails to distract yourself from the heartache.

Eve sits down beside you and thinks about her words carefully. “Mark… well, I won’t defend him; he is kinda stupid.”

“Kinda?” Amber argues.

That makes you grin a bit.

“But he’s also your best friend, and you’re his. Maybe he doesn’t know how he feels but he does know that you’re not worth the risk of something he’s unsure will ever happen.”

Somehow, she put things into a perspective you’ve never thought about before.

“I never thought about it like that.”

You feel Amber sit up.

“That’s because it’s a confusing situation. Seeing both sides of the story might help you make some sense, give you consolation.”

You nod, already having potential answers to your unanswered questions. If not real answers, you’ll settle for theories. It’s still something.

“Thank you, guys.”

Amber winks at you. “Anytime.”

“Of course. We're rooting for you both.”

You shyly smile when Eve nudges your shoulder.

“So,” She claps her hands together. “What should we do to commence our very first sleepover? Omegle?”

Amber is concerned for the first time at Eve’s expense.

“Umm...” You pout your lips to the side.

“I don't find the idea of accidentally getting flashed the most... thrilling.” Ambers grimaces.

“Yeah.” You nod.

Eve has a sly look on her face, one that says her proposition comes with an entertaining twist.

“Trust me, I have an idea.”

“Okay, that was pretty fun.” Amber concedes.

You laugh softly to yourself, remembering the events from the previous night.

The 3 of you decide to go out for lunch, finding the night an excellent moment for bonding.

“What was fun?”

Mark pulls a seat up at the table you're occupying.

“Mark? How'd you know we were here?” You query.

Mark looks just as confused as you but before he could answer, Eve does it for him.

“I invited him.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You don't have a problem, it's just that you thought this was gonna be “girl time” as you like to call these moments.

It would've been nice to know, at least.

Amber attempts to start up a conversation but little did you know; this conversation was a part of Eve's “idea” she mentioned the night prior.

“We went on Omegle last night.”

Mark's eyebrows raise in surprise. “Did anything happen?”

You understand the underlying message to be, “Were you victims to any unsolicited sexual advance?” and find it kind of sweet that Mark cares enough to have that be his first train of thought.

“Yeah, actually.” Eve notes as she takes a bite of her burger.

“Y/n's got herself a loverboy.”

You choke on your drink. Exploding into a fit of coughs, you hope it kills you.

Mark is quick to pat your back and try to aid in helping.

When you catch your breath, you look over at him awkwardly and thank him.

“Don't mention it.” He humbly said.

You make it a personal mission to never bring it up. Ever.

Amber continues to fuel the fire.

“Yeahhh.” She sighs. “He's Russian and was all, like, ‘Your eyes are like the ocean and I am a merman.’.” She puts on her best Russian accent and giggles when she nails it.

“Mm!” Eve makes a noise of enthusiasm, adding on to the punchline. “And then he said, ‘They are so deep, I can drown in them.’.”

“The fuck?” Mark grunts under his breath. “But mermen can swim.”

Honestly, he thought it was fucking stupid. Even if this guy was a “merman”, he'd be able to swim. Drowning is totally out of the question.

“Yeah, but it was the thought that counts.” Amber spoke before eating a fry.

“It was pretty corny.” Eve seemingly agrees with Mark.

“See?! I knew I wasn't the only one.” Mark nods to himself.

“But...”

His smile drops.

“I gotta admit, it was kind of romantic.”

Mark can't believe this.

Is romance really dead? Aren't punchlines supposed to make sense?

He knows it's only romantic because the guy's Russian. Okay, so he has an accent. So what? That should pardon his inadequacy of flirting?

“You guys only ate it up because he has an accent.”

Mark narrows his eyes as he takes a curly fry from your plate.

Amber and Eve side eye each other with mischief as they see you enter the ring.

“I thought it was kind of sweet, you know? At least he tried.” You counter.

Mark tilts his head, clearly bewildered. “You mean to say that you actually liked that?”

You don’t like his accusatory tone. “It wasn’t that bad, Mark.”

He rolls his eyes and begs to differ. “Wasn’t that bad- it made no sense! He definitely pulled that shit out of Google’s top thirty best flirty lines.” He puts air quotes around best.

“Oh, would you look at that? I actually have to go do that... thing.” Eve slowly rises from her seat.

“Yeah, me too.” Amber flashes a sweet smile.

They’re gone before you can impose.

“They really just left.” You say to no one.

Mark is still somehow going. “I just… I dunno.” He says, defeated.

“Mark, it wasn’t that deep. He liked my eyes and said some line that made me feel nice. That’s all.”

He nods like he understands but he really doesn’t.

“He’s no Mr. Darcy.” You settle as you take a sip of your milkshake.

Mark smiles at that and you’re confused.

“Why’re you smiling?”

“I knew it! I knew you couldn’t possible swoon over that ridiculous, nonsensical one-liner.”

You laugh incredulously. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just knew he couldn’t be your type after that. Sure, you like them romantic but with genuine thought.”

He says that so confidently, with such attention, it makes you feel nicer than the Russian’s compliment. He makes you feel seen with that keen observation.

You nod to yourself, lowkey impressed.

“Mkay.” You simply say.

His gaze flickers towards you at the seemingly confusing, neutral response.

“What.”

“What, what?”

“You said that like you’re not convinced.”

You deeply exhale, not wanting to argue anymore. “Mkay.”

His eyes widen a bit and he snaps at you like he’s just discovered the phrase: ‘eureka!’.

“That, right there. That’s what I mean.”

You rub at your head as if you’ve got a headache but you doubt you won’t get one soon.

“Elaborate.”

You’re sticking with as little words as possible if it means to get to the point.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks with worry coating his tone.

You shake your head, unsure of what’s happening. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into you today. You’re in this strange mood to argue.”

He blinks.

You’re right.

Arguments are a rare occurrence in this relationship.

“We never argue.” He realizes regretfully.

Your eyes trail up his form and you see the uncomfortableness etched onto his outline.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry-”

There’s a pause, one that melts the lingering awkwardness into friendliness.

You see the hints of a smile creep up on him and instinctually, there’s one in yours.

“You first.”

Ever the gentleman.

“Sorry for making it awkward.” Your fingers interlock with each other and you give him an apologetic look.

Mark immediately shakes his head. “No, you didn’t make anything awkward… It was me. I got-”

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, trying to find another way out of this as two thirds of his sentence has already been put out.

“You got..?”

He puts on a tight-lipped smile but it looks pained. “I just wanna say that I’m sorry for getting defensive for no reason.”

He thinks that was a good excuse for his detour but you’re smart.

“Jealous.” You say firmly.

“Huh?” He squeaks and immediately clears his throat.

“You got jealous.” You shrug your shoulders and move the whip cream in your milkshake around with the straw.

He scoffs with the intention of obscurity. “That- I- What? Pfft, jealous. Who, me?! Yeah, right.”

His stuttering erupts a snort from you, an “I told you so” fresh on the tip of your tongue.

He wanted to spout declarations of how incorrect you are but he couldn’t. The cat had his tongue.

“Whatever.” He bites with little heat.

He crosses his arms over his chest and appears to look unaffected by your ability to see through him.

“Mkay.” You hum to tease him.

Your best friend groans and you giggle at him slouching down in his seat, his hands covering his face and in turn; a sheepish grin.

You’re in your home when your TV bears awful news.

“Breaking news: intruders that look like multiple Invincibles are wreaking havoc across the globe.”

As soon as you hear that, a loud boom is heard from across the city and sends shockwaves to where you are.

“We urge you to stay in your homes and hide. Do not make contact, I repeat; don’t engage with them.”

You’re scared.

How the hell are you supposed to stay hidden in your home when there’s the start of destruction visible outside?

How can they tell you to stay inside when there’s a chance you can die in there?

It’s not like the variants aren’t gonna come inside. Who’d stop them from hurling your place of residence like a football?

Despite all of those thoughts, you stay inside.

You hide in your living room. You sigh to yourself as you hide inside a spare closet, leaving a sliver of space open to breathe.

You turn your phone’s ringer off but feel the vibrations in your pocket. You look to see who it could be and feel so much relief flood your stomach when it’s Mark.

“Mark?” You say shakily.

“Y/n? Oh, thank god. Where are you?”

Your eyes water but you keep them at bay. No point in crying over spilled milk.

“I’m in the spare closet of the living room, what’s going on?”

He starts to explain when the call abruptly cuts.

So fucking cliche you think as you the see the dead battery sign.

The sound of a window opening makes you heave out a sigh of relief.

You get out and are about to hug him but the first thing you notice when you open the door is his face. Er, the lack thereof.

“Is… this a new costume?” You ask wearily.

You didn’t know Mark had a black mask installed. It covered his whole head and the lens was turquoise blue instead of white.

He just stares at you, unflinching and scarily still.

You gulp as the realization sets in your stomach.

This isn’t the Mark of your world. This isn’t the Invincible you recognize.

The masked stranger can sense your irregular heartbeat and hear the small panicked breaths that well up in your chest.

He slowly stalks towards you; like a predator to their prey, except there’s nothing dangerous about his stance. He doesn’t radiate harm or anger and he puts his hands up, as if to show you he won’t harm you.

For your own sake, you don’t believe that. You can’t believe that’s what he wants.

You’re frozen, wide eyes filled to the brim with fear and shock.

You grip your phone tight in your hands, ready to turn it into a weapon if you must.

He’s interrupted when another one shows up.

This one has a black and yellow suit with a yellow cape.

Your eyes dart to his figure and you’re sure this one’s gonna do the honors.

“You’re alive.” He says to himself.

His eyes are covered with white lenses but you know he’s looking at you.

His hands ball up into fists and he walks to you with an urgency in his stride.

You instinctually back up and hit a wall when the masked variant gets in between you both.

“She’s scared.”

The tone in his voice almost makes you think he cares. Almost.

“Get out of my way.” The bright-caped intruder basically spat his face.

“And let youuu have all the fun? I don’t think so!”

What the fuck?

You see what looks like Mark… in a mohawk.

His lips spread into a smirk, a cocky tone in his words.

Your nails press into your arm to prevent you from sputtering out a giggle.

How are you supposed to take him seriously when he’s willingly sporting a mohawk? Right.

If you knew there was going to come a time where your home is used as some sort of Invincible convention, you would’ve moved out a long time ago.

“You’re here.”

This one scares you a little.

His demeanor may be softer but his eyes, they’re wild with a fire furling around his pupils.

What makes the fear prick at your heart is the fact that he’s wearing the Viltrumite uniform.

Wherever he came from, he became his father.

That fact chills your bones and you think, how could that happen? Why did that happen?

His wild eyes are wide with surprise and there’s the ghost of a relieved smile on his face.

Very quickly have you gone from 0 to 100.

There are 2 seemingly decent Invincibles and 2 Invincibles that give off evil vibes.

What’s better news is that they all have some sort of fascination with you.

Awesome! Fantastic, even!

Your adrenaline has taken a back seat but you’re still unnerved by the destruction just outside your neighborhood.

You’ve never wished for a quicker death as this cat and mouse game is becoming all too much. The anticipation will kill you if they don’t.

“Alright,” Mohawk Mark yawns. “Enough dickin’ around.”

The 4 variants surround you, encasing you in an otherwise unbreakable square.

“You’re coming with us.” Decides the caped crusader.

He puts his hand out to grab you but is thrown through a wall by an unstoppable force.

It feels a bit blurry after that.

You feel yourself being lifted and moving at an alarming speed, your body lurching forward and side to side by the breeze taking you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He murmurs.

He hugs you close to his chest, a hand cradling the back of your head and the other clutching your back protectively.

“M-Mark?”

You find your voice amongst the dizziness clouding your head.

He holds your head and tilts it towards him, kissing the crown and meeting your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay, you’ll be fine. Just stay here.”

You hold his wrists and blink, looking around you to find yourself with Debbie and her boyfriend, Paul.

“Please.”

Mark’s desperation appeals to you. His voice cracks with an urgency for your life. One that is begging you to listen, and you do.

“Okay.” You agree.

He nods and kisses you once again, a sweet promise pressed against your forehead.

You may have had the wind knocked out of you but that doesn’t mean you’re unaware.

Oh yeah, that kiss sobers you up real quick.

Your eyes are wide and cheeks are warm; you’re flushed and hope he doesn’t detect the jump in your heart rate because of his tenderness for you.

“Be careful.” You blurt out.

Mark looks back at you with a smirk on his face.

“I will.”

He kept his promise for the most part.

“Ow.”

“Maybe don’t move around a lot?”

“…Sorry.”

He winces as you treat his facial wounds.

Mark got pretty banged up; his left eye was swollen and purple from Conquests fists. He has similar shades of bruising on his face and a nasty cut on the bridge of his nose, another on the corner of his lip.

His arms and leg are almost fully healed.

It’s been a grueling 2 weeks.

Oliver helps out as much as he can.

Eve and the rest of the heroes are helping piece the cities back together but no matter how much they help rebuild, the atrocities committed won’t be forgotten.

Conquest was here on a personal mission and almost leveled the state because of it and roughed up Oliver pretty badly.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You hear him, you hear the things he wants to say and the things he doesn’t say out loud.

You feel so bad, so awful for him. He’s still a kid trying his hardest, doing his best.

Why can’t that be enough?

“It isn’t fair.” You respond.

His gaze turns to you.

“You do your best and when you think it’s over, the worst is still yet to come.”

Your fingers lightly touch the one of many bruises on his cheek, his eyes close at the contact.

“I can’t imagine how many times you’ve had pieces of you broken for us but it’s a sacrifice that unfortunately comes with the job.”

It hurt your heart, saying the second part.

Hard truths are a pill you’ll always find difficult to give.

He sharply inhales and the tears he tried so hard holding, come pouring down. Soft sobs and wails plague his throat.

His head falls atop your chest and his hands wrap around your middle, clinging to your shirt.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you do your best to ground him, to be his anchor.

His mental state is unimaginable, the thought of him slipping away has been a reoccurring nightmare for you but you push through. You have to.

“So many people died.”

The death toll worldwide was into the hundreds of thousands. That was the doing of the variants but Mark was inadvertently responsible, too.

It breaks your heart at how unfair this all is.

A Viltrumite’s personal vendetta against Mark resulted in such catastrophe.

Scott -also known as Powerplex- fried his only family left and somehow thinks that is also Mark’s fault.

As if the Chicago Incident wasn’t enough, there was almost a Chicago Incident Part 2 had it not been for Eve.

“You can’t blame yourself for Angstrom’s doing.” You try to reason.

Mark shakes his head and gets up.

“I thought I killed him, but I should’ve been sure. I should’ve finished the job.”

Mark palms at his wet eyes, sniffling lightly as he calms down.

You don’t know what to do, you don’t know what to say.

You don’t want him to wallow in this pain by himself but you also don’t want to say something wrong.

“You should leave.” His cold tone and neutral face really sells it.

You’re confused. “What?”

You’ve never seen him like this and are worried the wretched day you’ve been imagining is finally here.

“I’m sorry, w-was it something I said? Or did?”

“No. I just want you to go.”

You watch his fists bunch up the material of his joggers on his knees and the veins protruding from his hands.

“I…”

You want to say something, you want to stay for him but you can’t. You know it’d only make things worse.

So you just nod and whisper a meek, “Okay.”.

Mark still isn’t looking at you when you make your way to the door. His face still expressionless, calculated, distant.

Your fingers reach for the handle when you hear him.

“Y/n?”

It’s embarrassing how quick hope flashes in your eyes at the sound of him saying your name.

You try to suppress the obvious reaction as much as possible.

“Yeah?”

It still seeps through your voice but you’re human.

Your emotions are a part of you, even if they end up being a helping hand to your disappointment.

You don’t see the pool of guilt swirl around in his almost annoyed eyes but maybe it’s for the better.

He stares at you and feels bad but after everything that’s happened, is it worth keeping you in his life?

He wants to tell you so badly what’s making him push you away.

Sure, William is his best friend but you’re so much more. You’re a part of him, you’re his soulmate.

Mark wants nothing more than to see you happy but he ultimately decides that it’s nothing compared to seeing you alive.

“Can you close my door all the way?” He begrudgingly says.

The average person would blame him for pushing you away, him getting your hopes up only to crush them so inadvertently cruelly.

But you only chastise yourself.

You want him to know that despite people like Scott or Angstrom; who put the blame on wrong people for their circumstantial demise, there's people like you and Debbie.

He has a support system ready to recharge him but maybe you were overcharging him?

You go to sleep in tears, crying silently to yourself over how fucked life is.

Mark doesn't sleep the whole night, knowing he can hear your heart break.

It's been a slow week.

You don't talk to anyone or do things you used to; only getting up to go to class and eat, do some occasional grocery shopping.

You make an excuse for Amber and Eve when they text you to meet up and watch their caller ID's flash across your phone before it rings all the way through.

Mark hasn't spoken to you at all. No call, no text.

Despite him quitting school, you used to see him all the time on campus. Whether it be for you or William or Rick.

Now, you don't meet with anyone.

“She doesn't wanna talk to me or Amber anymore.” Eve voiced one day.

"Nor us." Rick pointed towards him and William.

“Something’s wrong. I'm worried about her.” Amber adds as she comes across the last message you sent in the group chat with her and Eve.

hey guys, just dealing with the flu rn. i’m fine tho! no worries :)

But of course they worried. They're your friends and that's what friends do.

Which is exactly what they said when they arrived at your doorstep, so you can't afford another excuse.

Your duo sits on your bed, trying to come up with a solution to best help you out.

“He’s closed off and maybe that was expected, but it's been a week.” Amber says.

“Yeah, you'd think he'd open up by now.”

You sigh pitifully and look out your window and down the street.

You’re a 10 minute drive and he’s a 1 minute flight away, yet nobody is willing to close that distance.

“It should be him, though.” Eve says.

“Hm?” You hum absentmindedly.

“Mark should be the one to come talk to you, not the other way around.”

Eve gauges for a reaction from you, one that will oppose her idea.

“Maybe you should go.” She switches up.

You look at Eve hesitantly, like it's a flop idea.

“You tried, Y/n. You did your part and he let you know but this isn’t the way things between you should end. Should he want it to end.”

It's like Amber knew what you were thinking and tried to dismiss the thought for you.

You weren't gonna lie and say that you haven't thought about blowing up his phone, driving to his house and banging on his door to open up to you.

But would he even want to? Would he even listen?

“It's not about what he wants, it's about what he needs.”

“And what he needs right now, is you.”

- MEANWHILE, WITH WILLIAM, RICK & REX -

“Come on, man. Don't be like this.” William tries.

Rick can see how much Mark is beating himself up over everything that’s happened.

With the fight against Liu’s dragon and Powerplex. And now recently, Conquest.

Mark never complained, it was the job. But you made getting back out on the field a bit easier.

“It's not worth losing her.” Rick gently reminds.

Mark's trio of lending hands have come to his service but it's unwanted, and Mark lets them know.

“Look, I don't need this. Especially not right now.”

This makes Rex mad.

“Oh you don’t need this? Well, excuseee me! We don’t need you to be so goddamn stupid, especially not right now.”

Mark narrows his eyes, visibly agitated. “Stupid? I’m being stupid?”

Rex widens his eyes, his pitch growing higher. “Yeah! That’s what I said.”

“Okay, I think we’re elevating the situation so let’s all just calm down.” William suggests nervously.

Mark has other thoughts as he rises from the bed. “And how exactly am I being stupid?”

Rex knows he shouldn’t be egging him on, he shouldn’t be encouraging his anger; but if this was the way to make his friend see his foolishness then so be it.

“By distancing yourself from the one woman who’s nice enough to let you, instead of manning up and telling her how you really feel.”

That stung.

“You don’t get to tell me how to handle my love life.”

Rex smirks lazily, a hardball on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t even have the balls to have one.”

“Rex.” William warns.

The cheeky bastard ignores him and continues on, a bit excited to see where this would all lead.

“I think she’d want a man who sees her, who doesn’t hurt her by ignoring her entire existence.”

Rick facepalms himself and wonders where the line between bravery and stupid was drawn.

Mark’s knuckles are white from how hard his fingers are curling in on themselves, his fists ready to pound into the explosive asshole.

Rex steps closer, now toe-to-toe with Mark and ignorantly unafraid. “I wouldn’t make her wait.”

Mark punches him right in the mouth, hard.

“Mark!” The yell of his friends fall on deaf ears.

Rex grunts as he stumbles back a bit, expecting this outcome.

“You don’t know her. You don’t know what’s good for her.” Mark spits bitterly.

Rex spits some blood out, sighing heavily. “You do.”

That makes Mark soften up.

He blinks like he’s snapped out of a trance. His fist wavers and is set down beside his thigh, a deep sigh exiting his nose. He looks at his friend and witnesses the ugly truth; his jealousy won.

“What am I doing?” He whispers.

Rex coughs lightly, the cut on his lip stinging.

“Talk to her, Mark. Don’t let her live with the regret of not knowing.”

Rick puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, hoping this will finally tip him over the edge.

Rex comes off the wall, slapping Mark’s back with a warm pat.

“I’m sorry, Rex. I shouldn’t have-”

He dismisses him with a wave. “Nah, I was being an asshole. An asshole on purpose, but still an asshole.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’re gathering the courage to mull over the most impactful relationship in your life.

Is there even a correct way to do that?

You don’t know, but what you do know is that you have to try.

You look at yourself in the mirror and feel the weight of your younger self.

She’d be devastated. you think. If she were here in the flesh to see this, you don’t think she could withstand it.

A sharp knock to your door pulls you out of your head.

You’re not expecting anyone, and you’re unsure about the one person you did want to hear from.

Regardless, you walk over and open the door and your heart drops out of your ass. Not in fear, but in surprise.

“Mark.” You breathe.

Here he is; in the flesh and without the scowl you picture. In fact, he looks guilty.

His once glee-filled eyes are now empty of it, making you reminisce the time before last week.

“Can I come in?” His voice resounding of forlorn hope.

He expects you to deny him, to make him walk away with his hands held in a helpless prayer.

Instead, you show him mercy and welcome him inside your place of refuge.

Tentatively, he makes his way inside and awkwardly stands beside your desk.

You’re quiet, still trying to process his presence after an entire week of radio silence.

You don’t know how to feel. Should you be happy? Ecstatic? If anything, frustrated and hurt are also a great couple of options.

“Y/n?”

You look up at him and see his concerned face. “Hm?”

“I asked if we can talk.”

“Now you want to talk?” It came out before you could even think about it.

Your annoyance seeps through and he shuffles the weight on his feet a bit uncomfortably.

“I know-”

“No, you don’t.”

He looks at you like you just told him to kill himself.

“Y/n, please. Just hear me out.”

Your arms are crossed over your chest in a defensive position, he clocks that. He also notices the way you make eye contact with him throughout your sentences.

You were really hurt, he gathers.

He takes your silence as a sign to continue talking.

“After I left you at Paul’s, I went back out there and fought off the rest of those… variants. While I was fighting them, they told me about you.”

Your interest is absolutely peaked now.

“What do you mean?”

“They... they said that you existed in their world but-” He cuts himself off with a vexed sigh.

“But what, Mark.”

You want, need to know what was worth hurting you for days on end.

Mark looks at you and it's the most disheartened he's looked since that night he told you to leave.

“You died, Y/n.”

It all makes sense now. You grapple with the stomach-churning epiphany of the century.

The different Invincibles that wanted to take you was simply because you ceased to exist in their worlds.

“I... I died in every single universe.”

He takes some steps in your direction, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“You either died on accident by being murdered among civilians or you killed yourself.”

“Why would I commit suicide?”

He deeply inhales. “Because you'd rather die than join the other me.”

That sounds on brand.

“I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd lose you in this world, too.” He admits raspily.

That touches your heart.

You want to hug him, to comfort him but you're still kind of confused. You needed more answers.

“I was so scared, I had never felt fear like I did when I saw them with you.” He whispers.

“Why'd you tell me to leave?” You ask gently.

“Because I love you.”

His confession is so light, said with such helplessness, that you tear up.

Mark maintains eye contact with you, tired of hiding his true self. He wants you to see him.

“So many people have died because of me, it may not be directly my fault, but it still had to do with me.”

He comes a little closer, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“What if I was too late that day? What if they managed to take you away?” He mutters in a hushed tone.

Mark shakes his head as if to get rid of those thoughts.

“If anything happens to you, it will be because of me.”

“So, you thought it was best to create such a large gap between us, that there'd be a sinking hole inside of me. Is that it?”

Your eyes well up against your will but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he can finally see just how much you've been suffering.

“You think I wanted to do that?” He asks defensively.

You scoff indignantly. “I think you could've told me from the jump. That's what I think.”

You know it's a little unfair given how vulnerable he's being right now but he was unfair when you were vulnerable, too.

He shakes his head, eyes closing in on themselves as his tears threaten to fall. “I can't risk your life, Y/n! Why don't you understand that?”

You messily wipe your tears, your lashes wet and nose tinged with the lightest of reds.

“All this time, you didn't have a problem with how close we were. Now that you saw how close I was to something dangerous, it got too real for you?!”

He's in your space now, his chin set down and eyes on yours.

Contrary to how mad he looks, he relays his message in an low tone. “Yeah. It did.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the length he's cut between your bodies and you're back in time. You go back to the moment he almost kissed you.

“Don't push me away, Mark.”

You beg him and you don't care if you look pathetic. You love him and don't want to lose him like this.

Mark just presses his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes, he concentrates on you. Your smell, your hushed breaths, your heartbeat.

You feel his hands slide up and down your arms, grounding you.

Even when he's opening up to you, Mark still chooses to comfort you. He still wants to calm you down, to make you feel better. He still chooses to have your best interests at heart.

“I came here to tell you the truth, that you deserve better.”

You wordlessly deny his idea, shaking your head once.

He grabs ahold of your head, making you look at him.

You see it all, you see all of his pain, grief, anger.

“I love you but you're not safe with me.”

“You don't get to make my decision for me.” You stubbornly point out.

He’s stubborn too. “Y/n—”

“I love you.” A shaky whisper snuck into the air between your lips.

His wide eyes stare back at yours in surprise.

“I've loved you for a long time and I don't wanna be in love with another.” You wrap your hands around his, feeling the warmth bloom onto your cold ones.

“Please, please don't ask me to stay away from you.” You cry.

He kisses your head and brings you close, his palm guiding your cheek to his shoulder. He curls his other arm around your waist and rests his chin atop your hair.

“Okay, alright.” He fondly agrees. Stop crying, you crybaby.”

“Fuck you.” You lightly jab.

He airily laughs and brings your face close to his, pressing an equally feathery kiss to your lips.

You timidly kiss him, shying away a little to breathe but Mark wants you to take his breath if you must. He pulls you in, hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him, wanting to shape a new mold from your figures.

Your fingers nervously brush his hair and he groans at the contact.

You chuckle at the sound and he pulls away leaving a soft peck.

He's in a daze and has hearts in his eyes but he ultimately decides; he wouldn't want it any other way.

2K notes · View notes

asxgard · 2 months ago

Text

Healing | [2/3]

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x pregnant!wife!doctor!f!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: Healing comes in stages.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: ayy, this idea came while I was thinking about a one-shot/possible continuation of Heartbeat lol ended up adding this and another part. gender was a coin toss, so don’t be upset with me😊

Word Count: 3.3k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: afab!reader, some angst, foul language, pregnancy, hospital mentions, medical inaccuracies, drug mentions (Langdon), struggling with feelings, vague ptsd, some fluff, pet names (my love, sweetheart)

not beta read

The month that followed the chaos of Pittfest was not an easy one — not only was there damage control, but there was also a hell of a lot of clean up. Both physically and emotionally. You saw the blood on your hands when you closed your eyes, but you kept repeating, “I did everything I could with the resources we had”. That only worked for about a week.

Your temper flared whenever you came to be in Gloria’s company after that, and you could plainly see you were testing her patience. Hospital politics and satisfaction scores meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of the ED, and the budget cuts and bare-bones resources meant everything if another mass casualty event rocked Pittsburgh. You had bypassed Michael entirely when you complained about it — which left him frustrated, but more-so over the fact that you were right and Gloria was still playing politics.

While Gloria had clearly stepped up during the tragedy, she was not much help in the aftermath.

In the wake of that shift Michael had worked, you could see it still weighed on him. You hated that you had taken that day off — sure, it had been for a checkup with your OB to check on your bouncing baby boy, but you had been needed. You hated that Michael had only called for you when he started to crack, but that was the man he was. That was the man you had married, fully knowing that fact. You were lucky he called for help at all.

Despite the fact that you were both fighting for better resources and an increase in the ED budget, you both found small comforts at home. Mostly in his touch, but in a handful of new hobbies you began to start to prevent your mind from wandering too close to the horrors you saw daily. Michael took to building your baby’s crib. Then their dresser. And then a wooden rocking horse.

Whatever it took to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Jake warmed back up to Michael sometime between Leah’s funeral and your birthday that month. Jake’s guilt had manifested as disbelief at first, dissolving into anger, and finally acceptance. He had shown up to your house on your birthday with flowers and a smile, asking if Michael was home.

They both talked out on the balcony for a good chunk of the afternoon, coming back inside with smiles and quiet laughs. It made you feel worlds better.

—

“Dr. R squared!” Dana called happily when you and Michael walked in together one morning, calling the attention of all the newer faces. You were happy she had decided to stay, but she had nearly gotten the nurses union up in arms about the violence they faced, which caused a big headache for Gloria. You were thrilled.

Whitaker and Javadi exchanged glances, while Santos let out a surprised laugh.

“I knew it!”

You enjoyed keeping your personal life private, but your marriage to Michael was more of an open secret, anyways. You were professional inside the hospital, so you could see how it took them awhile to catch on.

“Damn, Dana, you ruined my bet. I had another month to go before I thought they’d catch on.” Michael said with a fake frown.

You barked a laugh, “You haven’t exactly been subtle. I win.”

“That’s gotta count as foul play.”

“A bet’s a bet, Michael.”

Since your pregnancy, Michael had hovered more and left more lingering touches on your skin, touching your back when you were helping a patient or passing in the hall.

You noticed Princess and Perlah exchange a few bills, and it was then you were certain a similar bet had taken place in the ED as well. You smirked.

“Wait…wait. You guys are married?” Whitaker asked, looking back at you, face flushing.

“Happily.” Michael supplied, tone low, heavy gaze on the poor kid.

You knew how it looked — a younger woman with a much older man. You were also very obviously pregnant. But you were proud of your marriage, and if it weren’t for the board watching how you interacted together, you would have shouted it from the rooftops.

“...but your last name..?” Javadi whispered out.

“Less confusion with my maiden name, Dana’s just proud of her little nickname,” you told her with a grin. “Plus, the Pitt only has room for one Dr. Robinavitch.”

“Should I take offense to that?” Michael asked with an amused raise of an eyebrow.

You only smirked at him, before moving to put your things behind the charge desk.

“Alright, everyone back to work.” Michael said, following after you to put his bag down. “Residents, I want your reports.”

Michael quickly fell into his role as Chief ED Attending, and you fell into yours, moving to triage as you usually did at the start of your shift. You had a good eye for finding cases that could very easily slip into critical, and you had a knack for clearing away the cases that definitely did not need to be in the ED clogging up chairs. Sniffles, papercuts, and symptoms better suited for their primary care physician rather than the hospital.

Sliding in next to Michael to drop off a tablet, you smirked at him, “So…what’s for dinner tonight?”

Your bet had consisted of who was going to make dinners for the next month and Michael had lost. You were looking forward to not having to worry about that for a month, seeing as typically you and Michael traded off or cooked together.

His eyes still on his computer, he frowned, “I was thinking take-out.”

“Sore loser.”

He smirked, “Thai?”

“How dare you use my cravings against me.” You scoffed with a smile.

He looked at you fondly, eyes going back to the screen, “I’ll even get you ice cream after.”

You huffed, trying to maintain a frown, “I accept only if it’s a cinnamon roll from Grandview.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. Grandview Bakery was wildly out of the way, but you had been craving the sweet treat for days.

“What? It’s for your son, not me.”

Michael grinned and relented, agreeing to your terms.

—

Michael opened up to you about that shift two weeks later, on a quiet evening in. You were attempting to knit a small hat, but one of the rows had gotten uneven forcing you to backtrack. Your feet were in Michael’s lap while he watched a Penguins game, hand absentmindedly running along your leg.

“I think the choice I made with Adamson is still affecting me.” He said, not looking at you.

You glanced up at him, “It was a choice you never should have had to make.”

“Who else?” His brown eyes met yours, filled with a sadness that broke your heart. “Who else could have made it?”

Adamson had been a mentor figure to you as well, but not to the extent he had been for Michael. They had met a handful of years after Michael’s residency at Big Charity in New Orleans, and he had taken him under his wing. He had learned a lot from Adamson in the nearly fifteen years they spent together, while you had only known Adamson for a quarter of that, before he passed.

“It shouldn’t have been you.” You stressed again, putting your knitting aside. “But it was. That little girl ended up living, and Adamson would’ve been proud of you. In fact, if he saw the man you are today, I know he would be.”

Tears came, his face scrunched up and you moved forward to hold him. It was not the hysterical, fully body sobs you had seen in the Peds room after trying to save Leah, but it still burrowed its way into your chest. You curled yourself around his body, pulling him as close as your bump would allow and let him cry.

“I remember all their faces, I remember all of them.” He whispered into your neck, your skin wet from his tears.

Your own tears came, and you held him tighter, feeling heartache for how haunted your husband had become.

It was a reality you faced as well, and while you had never properly learned of a way to deal with it, you frequently found you had it mostly under control. But Pittfest? It had torn through your coping mechanisms like they were paper, leaving zero time to compartmentalize, and left you open and vulnerable by the time you began to process it all.

“I know.” You got out. “I’m here.”

Recognition was the only thing you could give him. Empty promises and sweet words had no place here; you could not placate him with a solution, because you had none to give. You only held him and did not let go, knowing that would be enough. All he needed was an anchor to help him weather the storm in his mind.

Michael moved from your grasp sometime later that evening, having held onto you long after he stopped crying. You had kissed along the parts of him you could reach, the length of his shoulder, the shell of his ear.

His eyes were red when he moved to sit up, still holding you close. He pulled you effortlessly into his lap, resting a hand on your bump and finally looking at you.

“Langdon was stealing benzos.” He told you, voice quiet and raw.

You blinked at him. You had known something had happened with Frank — Michael had taken him under his wing not long after he had started his residency in the Pitt. After the tragedy that had happened at Pittfest, Langdon had gone to rehab, putting his residency on hold.

“He was what?” You searched Michael’s eyes. You figured there was a drug problem if he was opting for rehab, but stealing from the ED? That was a whole other can of worms.

“Santos noticed some irregularities.” He said simply. “He avoided it when I confronted him. Found librium in his locker from Louie.”

“Not just stealing…but stealing from patients?” You asked, nausea rolling around in your gut. You had trusted Frank, helped him whenever possible. You had even hung out with his wife a few times.

Michael nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “I let him leave when I found them…I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t know what I was going to do, I barely had time to think before Pittfest happened and then he was just back. I was still worried about Jake, and everything else, and I let him stay. He was probably fucking high and I let him stay.”

You processed his words slowly. Even in the chaos, you had noticed a palpable shift between Michael and Langdon, a tension that (at the time) you were sure was due to them butting heads over a patient earlier in the shift.

You had trusted him, with your own patients, and it made you sick to think he might have taken advantage of that trust to score drugs.

You swallowed your thoughts, “We needed all hands on deck.”

It was a rationalization and not a very good one.

Michael saw right through it. “I compromised patient care because I was too fucking overwhelmed.”

“So, what? You were going to cause a scene right in the middle of all that shit? Take everyone’s attention away from patient care?” You asked, voice harder, “You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. If any one of the residents or nurses felt he wasn’t making the right decisions, they would’ve told you. Or Abbott. Or me.”

Silence came over you as you held each other’s gaze. He brought a hand to rub across his face, a long breath escaping him. You moved one hand to the back of his head, to fiddle with his hair.

“I told him before I left that he could either go to rehab or I would report my findings to the board.” He said to you after a few minutes.

Going to the board would have effectively ended Langdon’s career. Though, he took that risk when he started stealing from the ED.

“I’m glad he chose rehab.” You admitted quietly.

“Me too.”

It went unspoken that you both had no idea how you would navigate him returning to the Pitt, trust torn to shreds — forcing him to start even below square one. How would he gain back your trust? The care you had shown him? How could you trust him after all of it?

Did you even want to?

You moved your hand to play with Michael’s fingers, eyes on your hands.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about names recently,” you started, only glancing at him while your cheeks heated.

“The world doesn’t need a Michael Jr.”

A quiet laugh rushed through your nose, “Don’t be so self centered.” You looked at him. “I was thinking Adam.”

All the air escaped Michael’s lungs, watching you while water blurred his vision, but he did not cry.

“I like that one a lot.”

Adam Robinavitch.

—

It was easy enough to warm up to the new med students, intern, and year two resident after several shifts together. Though Santos had a habit of rubbing you the wrong way — far too cocky for your liking, frequently taking unnecessary risks without consulting her senior resident or any of the attendings. You felt she was better suited for surgery, lacking the kind of empathy the ED required. But she grew on you. Like a weed.

Javadi reminded you too much of yourself, thrown into the world of medicine at an early age. You were no prodigy, but you started earlier than most had. While she was textbook, you were hands on, and you thought to bring her under your wing — to help her in the areas you knew she needed. She steadily got better at patient interactions under your careful supervision.

You found Whitaker endearing, but he frequently internalized too much of the job. You had learned in passing from Collins that he had taken his first patient death particularly hard — but so had you, and most attendings you knew. He was kind and patient, knew not to linger, and was eager to get his hands dirty, even if he was a little insecure and clumsy at times.

And Mel King? You quickly grew a soft spot for her. She was capable and knowledgeable, and you quickly began to rely on her as you once had with Langdon. You could see her rolling with the punches, but in the quiet moments, you would see her take a moment for herself. It made you think that out of all the newcomers, she would be best suited for the ED. The Pitt needed more attendings who had healthy coping mechanisms rather than the Robinavitch-Abbot Method of Bury Your Feelings Until You Die.

In the latter months of your pregnancy, you leaned more heavily on the residents as Michael became more and more overbearing. With the uptick in violence against staff and no budget to get more security, you could understand the restlessness he had.

Michael would come running even if a patient or family member so much as raised their voice at you, or in your general vicinity. You appreciated your husband being near, but his careful gaze made you feel like you were being watched. You nearly made the decision to switch to nights, but you knew Abbott would not have been much different.

He just would have been more subtle.

You knew he would have been hurt by your decision, especially if you did not run it by him first, so you opted to do the only rational thing: talk to him.

Easier said than done.

You opted to not bring it up during your shift, knowing you did not want your personal life to bleed onto the job any more than it already had.

In the quiet of the car, more of a necessity now with how far along you were (though you missed your walks together), you broached the topic carefully. Michael didn’t need kid gloves, but you knew his concern was coming from a good place, and you did not want him to think you didn’t appreciate it.

“My love,” You started, turning down the R&B station, rubbing anxious circles on your belly.

He hummed simply to let you know you had his attention, moving one hand from the steering wheel to grab ahold of yours.

Hey, you’ve been increasingly overbearing and making me doubt myself as a doctor? No.

Hey, I’ve noticed you hover a lot more recently and it makes me antsy? Better, but no.

You really need to cool it? Definitely not.

“I’ve really appreciated all the concern you’ve shown whenever I have a difficult patient, and I’m grateful you have my back, trust me, but it’s edging on just too much, I think.”

“You’re my wife, I’m always going to worry about you.”

“I’ve been your wife for almost four years, Mike. You were never like this before I was pregnant. I’m not asking for you to not worry about me at all, but I would appreciate it if you relaxed, just a little. It makes me feel like you’re doubting me as a doctor rather than protecting me as your wife.”

He frowned as he digested it.

Did he use to step in before when someone got particularly aggressive? Yes. Was he always there when you needed? Of course. But it had increased tenfold since you first found out you were pregnant.

“I feel like there’s got to be some middle ground here.” You said after he stayed silent.

He pulled the car into the driveway, turning the car off before resting back in his seat. You stared ahead to the bricks of your townhouse.

“After Dana got hit, I realized how easily it could’ve been you had you been working. You would have been dealing with him in triage. I never would have forgiven myself.” He paused to swallow thickly. “And Pittfest…with Jake — it just takes a fucking moment for someone you love to be ripped away from you. With what we do every day, I never wanted you to be at any risk. I figured if I could put myself in the middle…if I could shield you, you would be safe. I never want anything to jeopardize your life or our son’s life. I don’t—I couldn’t—”

You grabbed his hand, processing just how badly that shift had affected him. You knew it would have a lasting impact, but now you understood just how great. Of course he would become more protective after that shift, how had you not put it together sooner?

“I didn’t really think about it like that.” You told him quietly. This was his way of dealing with that shift.

He intertwined your fingers, brushing a thumb over the wedding band you wore to work (your pretty engagement ring sat safe from the grime of your job in a jewelry box, which you wore whenever you were not working). You squeezed his hand, pulling his attention back to your face.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m being overbearing or doubting you. I just can’t lose you.” He told you.

“And you won’t, my love. I’m here.” You brought his hand up to kiss the back of it. “We’re gonna get through this.”

He released a long breath, “Just promise you’ll come to me if you need me.”

It went unsaid that this was his way of promising you the same.

“Promise. Don’t get me wrong, the protective husband thing is really hot. Just perhaps a bit more of a subtle approach would be better.”

He met your eyes with a tiny quirk in his brow, “I can work with that.”

“Through thick and thin, yeah?”

A soft smile formed, “Through thick and thin, sweetheart.”

[ Next ]

want to join any of my tag lists? feel free to shoot me a message!

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready @kittenhawkk @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy

Dr. Adamson’s first name is Montgomery (according to a screen grab of the plaque), and well, I couldn’t work with that, so that’s how I settled on Adam lol

Will I be writing something about last night’s episode? Yes, yes I will. (two, possibly three, parts planned already oof who gave me free-will??)

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x female reader #dr robby x reader #dr robby #dr michael robinavitch #female reader #pregnant reader #asxgard writes

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freaktoru · 4 months ago

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summary: sung jinwoo x reader - boyfriend headcannons. sfw and nsfw included. warnings: fluff, smut, idk this is silly authors note: ty for reading, hope u enjoy. likes and reblogs always appreciated <3 ── .✦ mood board here

sung jinwoo is super introverted and literally so oblivious to anyone liking him so it'll take a while before the two of you get together

but when you do it'll be sooooo good. so so good.

jinwoo is terrible at communicating his feelings, and he will struggle to show you that he loves you at first

so you will be the one saying "i love you" first

his love languages would be acts of service, physical touch and quality time because this man seriously needs a hug but also loves doing things for you

he likes his space and alone time, but he would love to be in the same room together while the two of you do your own thing.

he'd be surprisingly really good at cooking because he's super detail-oriented and attentive

that also applies to your feelings, if you're feeling a certain way, he'll catch on instantly

but he won't really know what to do, he's pretty cold sometimes so he's not great at comforting people.

terrible texter. he texts like my dad. "ok", "👍" he's just super dry and doesn't feel the need to say more than he has to over text.

very blunt and honest, if you need advice he'll never sugarcoat. he'll tell you how things are straight up, even it it's the last thing you want to hear. he's a very no bullshit kind of guy.

arguments with jinwoo would actually be the worst. he hates being wrong and will argue until you give in and agree that he's right. he'll also fuck you while arguing to really drive the point home.

possessive. so possessive. will never let anything bad happen to you, and likes knowing that you are only his.

on that note, he also gets really jealous. but he won't make it obvious in public. however you will pay for making him feel that way later when you get home.

i imagine he looooves having his hair played with.

and just loves feeling taken care of in general. he's always taking care of everyone else that the feeling of having someone take care of him is so new but so intoxicating to him.

hates pda. he thinks that shit has a time and place (and i mean he ain't wrong) the most he will do is wrap an arm around your waist in a crowded area

but in the car? hand GLUED to your thigh. at home? always touching you or coming by to give you a kiss.

speaking of cars, he'd be a really good driver. but why have a car when you have kaisel.

BUT when jinwoo is being a normal member of society (aka not getting around on a literal shadow wyvern) hear me out, he would totally ride a motorcycle.

omg can you imagine riding on the back of it with him, the wind blowing against you while you tightly wrap your arms around his waist to hold on. fuck.

really hates valentine's day (he thinks it's stupid and a waste of time)

but that doesn't mean he still won't go all out for you and buy you flowers, chocolate, a huge teddy bear and fucking pink and red heart shaped balloons (he's so extra)

also hates his birthday, to him it's just any other day. that's when you have to come together with beru and igris and plan something out to make this man feel special.

fav season would definitely be fall or winter. he seems like someone who would despise the heat.

really annoying when he's sick. he'll pretend like he's fine and then he will act like he's dying. (he secretly just wants someone other than beru to take care of him)

forehead kisses. he loves to kiss you on your forehead, it's one of his favourite ways to show intimacy.

also gives really good hugs. he just has a really comforting aura (at least to you. others would likely disagree.)

really likes seeing you wear his clothes, particularly his hoodies. or when you sleep in his t-shirts. drives him absolutely mad.

has really good hygiene. i imagine he always smells really good.

with that, he's also a clean freak, and really hates making a mess and will get mad at you if you leave your clothes on the floor.

not a huge fan of pet names but will mostly stick to calling you "baby", "my love" when he's fucking you in missionary late at night, or "kitten" when he's feeling playful.

he's a cat person. i don't make the rules.

huge fan of the rain. he loves rainy days because they're an excuse to relax and lay in bed all day with you. and fuck.

hear me out, he would definitely be a reader. i can picture him enjoying a nice rainy afternoon with a good book. (anything to not socialize with other humans)

NOT a morning person. he likes to sleep in if he has nothing to do that day.

on that note he's a very light sleeper and has trouble falling asleep. so when he does u better not wake him tf up.

super competitive. if you're playing any games or making any bets with this man, best of luck to you. he will do anything to win.

lowkey a gamer. he's got a nice, expensive setup and he likes playing video games. especially when you're sitting on his lap while he plays.

hates being in pictures. good luck getting this man to smile in a photo.

stares at you a lot? (kinda creepy ngl) but he just really likes looking at you

now lets discuss the sex:

realistically he wouldn't be very experienced because this guy spent all his time in gates instead of talking to women.

but ofc its sung jinwoo so he'll be instantly good at anything he does

very respectful towards you overall

i imagine he's actually pretty vanilla, at least at first because he hasn't had many opportunities to explore kinks

unless he's mad. then ur getting it babe. and ur getting it good.

he will push your head into the sheets and take his anger out on you, pounding into you mercilessly while whispering dirty, degrading things into your ear.

"act like a bitch, get fucked like one" attitude when he's mad.

he's not very vocal himself but looooves to hear you make noise

lowkey size kink cuz hes tall af (6'3 i think?)

despite being kind of vanilla and abit of a clean freak this man gets filthy with you when then two of you fuck.

really likes cum play. and oral sex. he will spend hours eating you out like there's no tomorrow. he also loves getting head.

like i said he's not very vocal but if you give this man a blow job. whew. he will make the hottest sounds you'd ever hear coming out of a mans mouth. can you imagine him breathing heavily, his voice all raspy saying "fuck baby keep going, just like that" while he grabs your hair, choking you on his cock. bye.

and licking. holy shit. once he starts he wont stop. he will lick you from ass to clit. no questions asked.

really likes edging you— "what was that baby? i couldn't hear you" he'd mumble against the sensitive skin surrounding your clit after eating you out for a whole hour, pushing you so close to the edge but denying you your sweet release. by this point you're panting, tears are prickling the corners of your eyes and you've become completely incoherent. "p-please jinwoo. p-please ah, i need to c-cum" you'd utter, taking all of your energy to form that one simple sentence while tugging on his messy hair. "mmm kitten i know. but i'm not done. you just taste soo good" he'd mutter drunkenly in response and continue licking and sucking you until you've quite literally lost your damn mind.

hes so pussy drunk omfg

dacryphilia. really likes seeing you cry from his edging or overstim during sex

"you're mine. only mine". constantly whispering this in your ear while you fuck. (like i said, the man is possessive)

has the prettiest cock (just like him). not wide but he makes up for that shit in LENGTH. def above average length. good luck fitting that shit all the way in (if u say u can't he'll make u)

one word: fingering. yeah. those long, slender fingers will be exploring every inch of your clit and pussy. and you'll be loving every second of it.

loves to cum together. he's a big fan of creampies.

big handcuff enthusiast. likes to see you struggle.

his favourite position would be missionary. like i said, he loves looking at you and hearing the noises you make. missionary is ideal for him.

very big fan of shower sex. something about getting home after a long day and having a good fuck in the shower is so appealing to him.

"good girl" yeah mhm. he'd say this. a lot.

praises. these will be rare with jinwoo and you'll really have to earn it but he will praise you so good when you do.

ass > boobs. like i said, i don't make the rules babe.

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spookyvalentine · 8 months ago

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fifty questions for rook

(no spoilers!)

Round two (spoilers)

veilguard is finally here yall!!!!! and now a set of character building questions for rook, because i wanna know all about them! there will be more question lists as I play the game, but those will be marked with spoilers and under a readmore for the next sixty days

1. How old is Rook?

2. How did Rook get the nickname? What do they think of it?

3. What was Rook’s life before their faction?

4. Which faction did they join, and why? How long has it been?

5. What was life like for Rook before joining the Veilguard?

6. What was the reason that brought Rook to Minrathous?

7. Why does Rook agree to join the Veilguard?

8. What makes Rook a good leader?

9. What is Rook like on the battlefield?

10. Does Rook know their history? Do they know of the HoF, Hawke, the Inquisitor?

11. Does Rook keep up with current events? (How aware of the situation are they at the start of the game?)

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

13. Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse?

14. What does Rook see when they look in the mirror?

15. What’s the first thing people notice when Rook enters a room?

16. Got any tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

17. How’d Rook get those scars?

18. Their fondest childhood memory:

19. What is Rook’s love language? What love languages do they respond best to?

20. What’s it like to see them smile? Their laugh?

21. What does Rook’s voice sound like? One of the voice options available, or do they have a different accent/voicecast?

22. Most embarrassing memory as a teenager:

23. What does Rook wear in the off hours? Do they like dressing up?

24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed?

25. How does Rook like to spend their free time?

26. Rook is in charge of the grocery list. What’s on it?

27. When was the last time they cried?

28. Does Rook have any pets/animal companions?

29. Any vices?

30. What is Rook’s class? Did they choose it?

31. What specialization does Rook pursue? What called them to it?

32. How would a desire demon tempt Rook?

33. What do fear demons look like to Rook?

34. How does Rook begin their day?

35. Ultimate comfort food meal:

36. What would Rook say are their flaws?

37. Does Rook ascribe to a faith?

38. Did Rook have any relationships before Veilguard?

39. What is their room at The Lighthouse like?

40. Describe Rook’s bed:

41. What’s on their nightstand?

42. Something Rook regrets:

43. Is Rook the type to gossip?

44. What is Rook really good at?

45. Who was Rook’s closest friend before joining the Veilguard?

46. What does it take to earn Rook’s trust?

47. What’s Rook’s temper like?

48. A color, flower, animal, and weather to describe Rook:

49. What will always make them laugh?

50. Are they a mystery, or an open book?

+1 What does Rook smell like?

#reblog and I’ll send you some asks!#I can’t wait to meet everyone!!#and pls ask me about my rooks their names are lascaux lemuria and altamira 🥰🥰🥰#dragon age veilguard #rook ask game #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #oc ask game

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sapphiccup · 2 months ago

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Smoking out the window...

Pairing: Stoner Vi x reader

Word count: 23,000 Plus.. I GOT CARRIED AWAY I KNOW I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SHORTER BUT THE DEMONS! MDNI MYGOD! NSFWAHEAD

Cw: Weed, Strong language, Banter, Fluff, sexual Banter, Tension, Perverts, Lingering eyes, Gay asf, Lesbian yearning/pining, Neck kisses, Rough sexual adventures, High Reader, High Violet, Consent is hot, oral, penetration, intercourse, fingering, Lots of lube was used in this fic,Switch Vi, Switch Reader, Dom Reader, Sub Reader I think? Sub Vi, DomVi, Making out, Lots of foreplay, Anal oral, vaginal oral, anal fingering both receiving 🌟 Tribbing, Starvation smutt, Lots and lots of dirty talking, till night til dawn kinda lust, Backshots to oblivion, Did I say strap already? The gays are fucking on all the furniture oh nooo.. (me next like tf?) , Riding faces, Tongue fucking, Thigh humping, Humping with clothes on, and after care. Tooth rotting fluff IM SORRY!!!! Message me if I missed anything <3

Summary: Chilling at home alone until a certain someone shows up at your door. A bag of weed and a hot lesbian? What could go wrong? You and Vi begin with a simple goal in mind: smoke sesh. Until things start getting more intense. Will Vi and you make it out as friends after this particular smoke session? or become more.. ? let’s find out!

Dc!:@/cafekitsune

Song: Smoke by Victoria Monet ft Lucky Daye🍀

ᥫ᭡

You were sitting on your couch chilling in your apartment listening to your r&b playlist. The music poured into your ears, a woman and a man singing about one of your favorite things to experience. Fuzzied socks on your feet, resting on your oval-shaped coffee table, some scattered decorative clutter to the side of your cute bear designed socks, slightly moving them away from the collected clutter. Carefully trying to not knock anything over for the tenth time today. You tilt your head back, really getting into those comfy cushions of yours, letting notes of the song carry you into a state of pure white clouds floating into the sky. However a thought gnaws on your wrinkled brain, thinking that these beats would feel even better with some thc in your system. And speaking of the “devil’s grass”

A knock at the door, perks your senses. You groaned as you pushed yourself off of your couch.

This better be good.

Sauntering your way over to your door, opening it, revealing a Violet holding a bag of weed and that famous smirk of hers.

Oh, this is good!

The way it stretches her scar on her lip, like it's an invisible spell that blows your way every time. Making you fly higher than any green substance has entered your dna. “So.. I’m growing a new strain..—“ like second nature she takes your hand, thumbing circles over your knuckles “I think you might like this one better.” She says, though not into your eyes, your lips quirking into a smile. You are in luck that she chose to gaze at your knuckles instead so you could peer at her lashes, they remind you of violin strings, with each bat it felt like a personal symphony, fluttering into your ears. This lovely symphony that made those lobes of yours mirror flowers, blooming for her. You’d tug at your hair with a single finger, a strand of hair from opposite sides weep reflecting like a weeping willow tree, to hide them from her.. Can’t let her know you’re bursting with glee inside.

“Oh yeah? It must be the best if it’s coming out of that mouth.”

“What do you know about my mouth, babe?” She asked with an arched brow, sprinkled with a playful grin as she entered your house, shutting the door behind her with her foot.

“Many things..” you respond, taking a step back, watching her take her shoes off, still haven’t broken eye contact. “Mhm—“ her eyes mapped out your body language, more like studying if you’re trying to do other things than just smoke today, from the way you usually get so nervous by her. She just takes it as you trying to be cocky. And she would be right any other day, however this time nervous fails to grab you by its clutches.

“Yeah, go ahead and sit down while I get us ready for this blunt.” You obviously obeyed, but not unless you had some control which prompts you to give her more of a hint, swaying your hips a bit because you know she is always watching. And yes she is completely in a daze watching your ass twitch a bit with every step. You were wearing flared leggings that cupped your ass and especially those curves of yours in all the right ways, and a cute tank top with noodle like straps barely being able to contain those pretty tits of yours. If wills of temptation could shatter, Vi's has hers teetering off the shelf. Blinking twice for her to get back to reality. You plop back down on the couch, shifting your body around to lay on your stomach, getting a better look of Vi entering your kitchen. Such an obsessed person you are, though who can blame you with trying to see more of Violet. She knows that she’s sexy and she knows that you know, so she doesn’t even tell you to stop gawking.

As you watch Vi make the both of you some snacks, setting up some cups for a couple of drinks for none other than the usual cottonmouth. You absentmindedly play with your nails, joyed that you pampered them this morning. Of course, this positive thought is only because you’re about to smoke with Vi.. it’s hard prepping blunts with long nails for you.

“What’s this new strain called?” You inquire her.

She digs into the fridge, grabbing some condiments, the clicks and clatter of some glass jars bumping into each other, cradling her acquired set up for her preferred sandwiches in her carefully crafted arms. Those same arms that are peaking through her white t-shirt, that isn’t too short or too long over her grey joggers. I guess she wanted to be comfortable today with you being 420 of all days. But, back to those arms.. they should be illegal to look that damn good, the way you can tell she just got a good pump in before arriving at your house! Those veins, and the way her biceps are so prominent, good gods.. I mean, literally how can someone make muscles look that good and she’s not even doing anything to make them visible right now. She’s simply just making sandwiches, (and you could literally watch all day if you could) but the way she has no choice except to squeeze them a bit or else the items she holds will fall. You wish you were the items instead, headlocked while-

“Noble Pineapple” she replies, setting down her array of sandwich preparations, breaking you out of a thought that barely had a chance to form.

“We smokin’ some royal Pineapple kush?”

“Yes ma’am.” She answers in a sing-song voice, that has you letting out a small chuckle. “Let me guess you, made up the name this time.”

“No-no, this was not my idea, I argued with my sister about this for 2 days, and we decided to combine it to stop-“ Vi pauses to stare at you, like you are fully listening to her dumb little rant, and she just bites her lip down. You’re just laying there on the couch, head settled in your cute soft palms, hair messy, still managing to look that good, her heart skipped a beat, cursing in her head that she shouldn’t have shifted her gaze to you. Sitting there all patiently waiting for her, gods..

Every time she stops to look in your eyes it’s like air rips out of her, sending her heart into a frenzy, the curve of your eyes, the color it resembles, the way you’re so focused on her, it makes her jumbled with a highway of fast pasting emotions. Not being able to keep up with only one.

She just keeps repeating Pretty,Pretty,Pretty, so fucking pretty. In her head like a broken record that refuses to play smooth correct music, in fact you make her vocal cords form into a broken record. The first time she caught onto the fact that your pretty eyes made her flip around her words no matter how hard she tried to be coherent it didn’t matter. Her mouth and her brain refused her to be coherent when she sees you walk on by, or even sharing eye contact. She made a vow to herself to just completely stop talking so you won’t hear her babble. Terrified she’d make a fool of herself in front of you risking to sweep all of this confident spell off of herself. That you see her as.

“Go on” you encouraged her, and god would she love it if you encouraged her some more, though she would fear her boxers would be drenched if you said it just a bit slower.

She blinks twice again, “uh..-“ her eyes zipped back down to the sandwiches she’s making,” Actually um, do you want pickles or no?”

“Yes please!” It was as if her heart played hopscotch against her ribcage, skipping to the vibrations of your voice.

Gods, I wish you would say please more.

You observed Vi open the pickle jar with such ease, the same fucking pickle jar that acts as if it can’t open for you any time of your pleasure, the same fucking pickle jar that you have to use a knife to open back up, without any fight it opened up for her. You frowned a bit at it. To which she caught your now knit brows, letting out a flutter of giggles already knowing why. After a while, she concluded your snack essentials for the awaited munchies later. You move the clutter out the way into a nearby woven basket. And Vi setting down both assorted snacks from sandwiches, to a bowl of strawberries, two glasses of kiwi strawberry drinks, and two water bottles (like duh? All that sugar needs to be drowned out of the both of you) on that very coffee table.

Before sitting down she grabs her grinder out of her pocket, it’s one of those cute customized grinders, with Jinx’s signature monkey on it. They’re quite known around here, no need to help advertise when Jinx is tagging the city buildings. The two sisters have created a successful business in the art of cannabis, not because they have to, no, because they both like to! They love to have fun and to spread that fun around with their trusted customers, especially you. You’ve been a loyal customer since college, first it was strictly professional, yet you and Vi just kept seeing each other throughout the city, you saw each other so much that you both decided together that you might as well just get to know eachother better. To a point where you both became really good friends.

Maybe even.. a bit too good of friends..

Sometimes the both of you do this back and forth of teasing, although as of lately that teasing has become a little more than Vi can handle. At first it was all fun and games, however Vi began to dive into your psyche, picking up on your habits, and even mirroring some slang you use on a daily basis. Whatever you were doing it was as if you injected something in her that has her thinking about you more than usual. It was as if you both were partners that never really solidified a title, never had sex, and definitely high levels of sexual tension. Not even a situationship, because there's no situation happening except that this quality time of yours has been.. appreciated. You both didn’t even dare to get physical, except for little touches here and there, such as hands, and a hug every time she leaves your place or when you both finish spending time with each other outside, going your separate ways.

If anything the most R-rated intimate thing you both do is eye fuck each other to oblivion until it’s time to go. (Ah, the famous sapphic trope)

She takes a seat next to you on the couch, grunting as she gets comfortable. Your eyes follow her handsome hands as they prep the bunches of weed for the both of you to enjoy. “You know people usually already have the weed, already broken down for a smoke sesh” you comment, still not breaking eye contact of those marbled hands of hers.

“We’re not usual people, and.. you love this part, the way I handle weed so carefully.” She taunted, stirring emotions inside of you to all gather into your ears, making them hot to the touch. She was right, you absolutely loved this part. She began to grind the weed up, flexing her arms, and you hypothetically drooling at her veins bulging with each grind. Certainly you aren’t the only one drooling. Vi could smell your consistent perfume, it was like aromatherapy for her, wishing it mixed around with her cologne.

Truly the real reason why she didn’t prep the weed: she needs something to distract herself and an excuse to spend more time with you. With anyone else she would have the joints already packed and secured ready to smoke. With you— that’s not an option. To get high with you so fast, would expand her initial emotions upon arriving at your house. She knows this by heart, when you get high, whatever emotion you have at the start will take over. And the kaleidoscope of more hidden feelings arises, heart beating fast, being able to heightened your senses, to feel another one's energy. Being high is no joke, and being high with you isn’t a soft giggle. It’s quite the opposite…

“Hand me that tray for me” she orders, prompting your brows to knit together with sour, removing your orbs from her hands to the corner of her eye. She could feel you getting tense, pitter pattering her hand away from herself to you instead, inching closer and closer. Trying to regain some playful energy back by playing with one of your thumbs. However, your eyes favored the back of your head, then towards the floor, flicking your thumb at her hand, ripping that playful shield off because of your little attitude. If you were Violet’s girlfriend she’d fix it real quick like how she usually deals with other girls' attitudes, only if you’re willing for it to be fixed of course.

She’s not the person that cut you, so you bled on her on your part. Luckily, Violet already knows how to evade that bloodshed that you’ve begun to splatter subconsciously.

“I don’t like your tone”

“Oh really, seems like to me you’ve been squeezing your thighs since I let those 6 words out my mouth. Pretty sure that tells me you like my tone, princess.” She countered swiftly. You tilted your head, deadpaning her, until you light bulbed a thought to throw back at her “Sounds like you’re interested, got a thigh fetish, Vi?”

Her blue powdered eyes cuts right to you as soon as those words fell from your lips, targeting right to your collarbone. She moistens her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue, blinking twice to escape another lustful loss(who’s really losing here though?) “Do you?” she asks right back. Did not expect that one from you… fuck..

“Maybe?”

You grab the tray, sliding it over to her on her thigh.

“Maybe not?”

“Should I be worried?” She queried, pulling the tray closer into her thighs, your eyes taking note of her shaky hand, a slew of thoughts set off in your head however one in particular stays in place, are her ears red? You check, and yes they are.. your heart drums harder against its natural cage, your breath a little harder to keep at its normal pace from the sight. Maybe nervous actually will have you in its clutches?

“—Possibly”

She takes a sharp breath, bubbling up some words to respond to you, anything, “Damn, princess laying it on thick today..”

gods, I might actually just say fuck the smoke sesh and let her do whatever she wants to me..

Violet takes a kitten bite of her bottom lip, dragging those teeth across it, soothing it with a lick at the dents, finding herself bouncing her leg but only an ant size bit not enough to tip the tray over.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Violet?”

“Uh, n-no. I’m good. I’m more than good. You know I don’t mind this little back and forth”

“‘Never made me uncomfortable” she continued, combining her fingers through her dyed hair, stealing a glance of you, your lip gloss shined so perfectly, you sat with one leg under you and the other hanging off the couch, you arms were squeezing those ti-

Tits? Holy shit, her shirt is really loose today.. o-okay.. I got this. Everything is going to be okay. Just don’t be fucking weird.

“Good, I don’t like making my favorite person upset”

“Awe, you care about me? So sweet” her voice jaunty, giving you a moonlit smile, twinkling your way, pulling your heartstrings, causing another rapid beat to rattle.

You nudged her arm in a jestering manner, yet those lines connected to your mouth danced upwards effortlessly, beaming a soft sunkissed smile. She hands you the tobacco leaf, waiting for you to grab and you stare down at it with a puzzled look, arching your brow.

“Wet it for me?” As soon as she said that you hated that she was right, you did squeeze your thighs. Hearing that.. dammit. Not only that but she caught it, you saw her eyes drift to your legs for only a second, and only a second you needed before snatching it out of her hands and quickly into the bathroom.

Gods, am I wet?

You checked to see if you were leaking through your pants, touching your lips with care. You felt that familiar slick through your clothes, making a tiny wet patch(it couldn’t compare to what was really going on if you opened your lips, oh how the locked dam wished it was opened by a certain pink wet muscle). It dawned upon you though, a weight that slugged you right in the jaw. You’re not wearing any panties today. You didn’t expect Vi to just show up (not like you’re complaining though) only.. no panties?!

You’ve always gotten wet by just her voice alone, but it usually only damages your panties. Now, you’re in uncharted territory.. you know you and Vi only do this for fun. Otherwise if she were to see you like this.. well you’d hate the fun to be over with just like that..

Fuck, do something to take this all away! Turn yourself off for Jannas sake! I cannot deal with this right now…

“Did you know whales have 12 inch dicks?” You inquired her, your voice laced with tiny panic, echoing from the bathroom. Turning the water on afterwards, wetting the leaf as she asked earlier.

“Haha! W-What?! Do I wanna know how you know that?”

You grip your free hand on the counter of your sink, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm down, slowing your heart, but as soon as you came back, the chasing waterfalls were rainbowed to continue as you laid eyes on Vi, she was man-spreading her legs waiting for you to hand her the leaf. You know what happens after you hand her that leaf, you know that this was what you were really waiting for… your favorite part with a smoke session with Vi, now becoming your worst nightmare..

Dammit I can’t change.. it’s gonna look too suspicious.. it’s one thing if I were to change because it’s too hot or cold but no one just ‘changes’ their pants!

You hand her back the backwood leaf, stepping forward, your hand trembling, slightly touching her cold hands, sending shivers down your back.

“Girl, if you do not sit down. You’re acting all scared, I won’t bite you”

“S-Shut up” you said with a pout, taking your seat right to back next to her, circling your middle finger on your knee. Vi began sprinkling a bit of thc magic in the brown leaf, meticulously about how big she wants to make it, which prompts her to ask a random question relating to the subject before..

“You got a thing for long dicks, princess?”

“Yeah, so?”

“From an animal?”

“Are you an animal Violet?”

“I fuck like one—“ Vi wanted to bite her tongue right then and there. Now why would she say that? I wonder why? Has she been thinking about such lewd things since you mentioned dick? Or has she buckled dirty jokes in her belt? She paused her actions, and you blinked twice, leaning in a bit towards her.

“Excuse me..? Wha- what was that?” She could hear your smile in your voice, and it only made her wanna jump into a fissure without parkouring this time.

“Nothing.. you didn’t hear that.” She answers, proceeding her previous actions, and not fucking it up with you. She bit the inside of her cheek, punishing herself. Hopefully you let that go and never bring it up again.. which is quite doubtful. You swirl your tongue in your cheek before speaking again, “And no I don’t prefer beastiality, thank you very much.” You saying that relieved some much needed ice breaking, melting her off again, laughs fell from her uneven lips, “ Yeah? Good, glad to know.”

The r&b playlist is over and continues to your rock playlist, you can tell Violet favors your music taste, with her subtle body movements, mimicking the beat with the tap of her foot, or the bop of her head. As she rolled, tuck, and shifted the weed in place, she’d sing a lyric quietly to herself before nearing that blunt to her lips.

“Focused on me?”

“Absolutely” you responded, closing your porcelain gates on your supple bottom lip.

“Good girl..” she praised, sealing it with a lick of her pink tongue, the brown leaf finally ready and full of your favorite color. And just like that, your body quickly was hot all over, whipping your head to a wall opposite of Vi’s face.

“O-Oh my god, never mind! I’m gonna throw myself off of a cliff “ your pitch shakey, and heightened, no mistake your heart was accepting this tune more ways than one, whereas your mind was boggled with panic. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. She’s never gone this far.. not even to get a good laugh— it was exhilarating.

“Whaat?—I thought we were laying it on thick today” a hint of mischief coloring her tone, her eyes darting around your face, just seeing you so distraught, so distracted, so deliciously filled with steam all over your body. If she didn’t know any better she’d mistaken you for an iron right now. Witnessing you change like a chameleon in the wild, she let out a pfft from her lips, then bubbles of laughter came out of her, and you simply joined in, pink sugary giggles of joy filling the air. Like a thief you stole a peek of her laughing, her eyes closed, and nosed scrunched.

She’s so hot.. How can someone look hot while laughing?! It’s too good to be true.

“Noooooo, I can’t” you claimed, a strained whine drowned in your words, you’d cover your face, trying to hide from her. She took note of you hiding, like a babe in the wild, finding it so adorable, seeing you get all shy just for her.

“You can’t what?”

“I—“ you take a breath “you’re annoying”

“Awe, such a baby. Such a big baby, hm?”

Holding the blunt between her lips, lighting it with a flick of her zippo lighter, which also has a Jinx signature design on it. She’s such a good big sister, not only supporting her sister's art, but also encouraging her to make personalized lighters for their shared business. It makes you think back of how many times she’s cheered you on, or simply helped you out with your big move from your parents house. You slowly moved your palms back to your lap, scooting a bit closer to her. You wanted to get her back for that comment. If she was going to go all in like that then—

“I’m always a good girl for you”

And that comment makes her whole body jerk. Almost letting the joint fall from her lips, catching it with thinning her lips. She’d raise her hand to it, taking it out her mouth, whipping her head towards you, seeing a devilish smile plastered on your face. You were definitely the one with horns and tail right now, no mistaking it.

“Holy shit… and I’m annoying?”

“Ah, youre blushi—ing I see it”

“Who wouldn’t blush if you said something like that?!”

Thank Janna, I didn’t just take a puff just now.. whew, girl trying to kill me.

She took a long drag of the joint, getting a good enough cloud in her system. Handing it to you. A little fire work in your fingertips, burning both of your worries away, a rotational celebration together. You can taste the strawberry mint gum she had before getting here, inhaling in her sweetness of a drag puffing a cloud out from your lips, passing it back to her. You’d cover your mouth, feeling a cough trying to make its way.

“Damn this nobel—“ you cough again “what the fuck Vi? How the fuck— wow..”

“Yeah you’re going to get high as fuck with this one, I think I perfected my green thumb.” Taking another drag of this sweet tree, tasting your lipgloss on it, usually she’d hate this from another, however you, delighted, rubbing her lips together getting it all over her mouth. Messy.., messy, messy, didn’t care and would do it again.

ᥫ᭡

After a few hours of rolling blunts back to back between the both of you, eyes hazy, and dugged into a few of your snacks, sharing old war stories with each other. You were sitting on your fluffy rug, telling her one of your personal stories, from when you were young. She doubled over in laughter, shaking with merriment, almost falling off the couch, with drops of tears in the corners of her rounds.

“No— - fucking way you said that in highschool, for the goodnews introduction!” Another laugh spilled from her lips.

“Okay listen, I didn’t say that for good news but I definitely did add to the conversation”

“Babe, that’s the same the thing”

“No it’s not”

“Totally different, it was adding to conversation, mind you I got detention for spreading awareness for that news” you added, a smirk scrimping at your cheeks.

“Oh my gods,..” she spoke with a sigh, wiping a tear away.

“The situation is serious as fuck but the way you’re saying it is killing me”

“I’m being deadass” you responded, shaking her thigh.

“I know with your straight facing ass that’s why it’s funny, stupid” she said leaning towards you flicking your forehead, you let out a little whine, receiving a dopey grin from Vi. You held your forehead, pouting at her, she went in for another flick because you started pouting finding your lil whines funny in her fuzzy head state. You got up from the floor swiftly grabbing her wrist pinning them above her head, the clouds of green swirling in your head got you feeling like you could conquer most things you couldn’t before.

“Try flicking me now, asshole”

“You do realize, I’m stronger than you right?”

“Have a lil faith” you responded with a shrug, Vi’s non-sobered brain not catching up to the fact that you’re extremely close to her.. it takes a minute but it gets there, and she is gradually turning red. Your tits were basically in her face, close as a kiss. Her breath became more shallow, her heart raced harder than the weed was doing her, taking a big gulp from the lewd sight. She needed to get you off of her right now, this was a line that she was not ready to cross with you, unless reciprocated. She tried moving her wrist away from you yet, the more she struggled the more you giggled and the more your two twins jiggled.

Fucking Janna, I’m gonna die like this, I’m gonna die from losing my absolute shit right now! Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“Off, off, off!! I swear to the gods I will flip you on this couch right now”

“Do it, pussy”

And so she did.

ᥫ᭡

You stared up at her, and she down at you,

“Well hello”

“Still pussy?”

The realization struck a chord, your heart was drumming up something fierce, you were petrified that she could hear your beats. Personal notes, personal vowels, personal rattles of your heart telling her out loud that you have a cr— something you fear you might have an inkling of l—-

“Y-you know what, you—are like.. Jack frost” you said in a daze, your lip quivering, oh yeah nervous had you captured alright, captured and under a really strong Violet. You had to say something, not only to distract yourself but to distract her.

“Ho-haha- no fucking way you just said that to me?”

No, like seriously, right now of all times? Hands above your head, gripped in her calloused hands, not moving, only inches away from each other. To a point where you could most definitely can count and see her white glimmering teeth, even the natural K9’s she has. The same K9’s she so desperately wants to drag down on your neck. Her strong jawline, that is to die for.. Not to mention her knee is slotted between your legs, nearing your wet spot might I add, actually this is perfect, distract her you fool!

“I give you that vibe?” Her voice drips out like it’s the first oasis you ever drank from. Your body heat is radiating off of yourself sinking its fangs into her, yet cold hands grip onto yours.

“Yes, I genuinely think you’re jack frost coded” you try again, but it’s too late. No one is distracted, this is it.

“You’re so fuckin high..” your eyes burned for her, and hers towering over you, succumbing to those flames that you've set, the heat you wrapped her in, capturing whatever it could catch, and for once Vi was ready. Ready to be set ablaze by your warmth, and those eyes, comforting her cold body. She wanted to melt into you.

your hand moved on its own, and without protest of her icey ones, you were allowed one free hand. You reached for hers above your head only leaving a single one with your captured palm. Guiding her to your stomach.

“Y-you, what’re you…” her powdered blues searched yours, looking for a sign of any doubt, and there was none, just pure determination. She took a long audible gulp, and you investigated her eyes for any hint of fear, or beyond the line of this boundary, and none was there.

“What?” You questioned softly, voice oozing with desire. You flatten her hand on your stomach, another gulp down her throat. Her breath, rigid.

She’s so warm..

Her eyes became dark, an abyss full of want, full of images of you in different positions right now. You gave her a signature move that you are quite acquainted with, staring into her left eye, then right, and her lips.

Oh no she did not just.. oh yeah this is dangerous.. this is.. fuck..

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip, powder blues following it as it traced its steps back inside of your mouth. Now locked on your collar bone, dragging her teeth on her bottom lip.

“Hey..”

Both of your eyes low lidded, taking in your energies swirling each other in. A line the both of you are at, tip toeing closer than ever, for the first time ever, you both might actually—

The phone rang, Violet's phone, knocking you both out of your daze and back to reality. It kept ringing.. Violet dipped her head in defeat, hair tickling your lips, a tiny snicker coming out of you. You spotted red ears, in her ‘sulken state’

“Fuck, can you..I’m sorry” She apologized, she shifted her weight off of you, getting up gradually, not really wanting to remove herself off of you, sitting back across from you. And you sat right back up, fidgeting with your hair.

“No, no.. it’s okay I.. give me a second I need to freshen up anyway, my hair is a mess moving around so much” you claimed, pushing yourself off the couch.

“I think you look fine”

“Yeah? Well I think I could use a little touch up..”

“Mkay, don’t take long I’m rolling the next one after this call”

“No I got it this time, you rolled plenty”

ᥫ᭡

You sat on the counter of your sink, splashing some water on you to sober up, of course it only sobers a bit of you. You’re kinda glad things stopped where they were. You want to make sure the both of you are at least a bit sober before deciding to go that far. You truly do not want either of you feeling disgusting after stepping over a line that many dare to cross. And she the same. As she talked on the phone barely paying attention to the conversation, thinking is this okay? Should you guys cross this line? And coming to resolve she confidently decided it wasn’t right.

You finish and come back out, gloss reapplied, eye liner redone, and calm. You sat on the floor again and grabbed a wrapper, her eyes watching you as you opened it. Noticing it had too many stems in it, sucking your teeth, you got back up and threw it away, Vi still not taking her eyes off of you watching your ass move like water in those flared leggings, her eyes venturing off, noticing something different.. noticing a wet patch near your pussy.

Oh shit.. oh..

“Hey I’ll call you back okay?”

ᥫ᭡

You both sat across from each other, Vi figured you should talk real quick. And you agreed, something needed to be discussed.

“I know we usually just fuck around but, right there on that couch—“

“I know, it was intense,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers.

“Do you actually want to?” She needed to hear you confirm this, she must hear you say the words, the green light or red light to both of your future endeavors

“Yeah..” and as soon as you said that, fireworks erupted from inside her, thankful that the feelings were shared.

“Okay, well, just so you know, haha—‘feelings mutual..” trying to play it cool. But now is not the time to only celebrate, now it’s time to lay down some necessary values. And this can make or break for some, but for Violet she wants this to be a subject of high priority.

“I just want to be— sober, and I feel like you should too cause I’m not gonna touch you in those places unless you are fully sure and.. coherent. I mean— - l-like if you wanted to have high sex with me I’d like that to be voiced first while you're sober before, yeah. You know?”

“Of course yeah, I actually appreciate that so much.. We…never done this before. Shifting into a new space between each other. I-I fully agree we should definitely be sober before doing anything— beyond that”

“I mean— we- we can still do other stuff until we're both sober”

“Mmmm, like what Lanes?”

“I dunno, talk? Don’t mind hearing your voice too long” she said with a big stretch of her arms. You pondered on that statement, talking would be nice, maybe.. trying to get closer would be nice to and so you say-

“Tell me what you like since we got plenty of time” you told her, and a sly smile was offered to you.

Starting off in tricky waters the both of you guided each other in this boat of unknown seas, it was rocky at first, then smooth sailing helped guide you as the wind blew gently into the sail of the experience and ignorance. You got to know her better on a sexual level and seeing her a little nervous made you tinker your bell of laughter. Vi was getting a little more cocky with her words of what she gets into, takes the golden dust off of you and back to a blooming mess. And for you, she listened to you, focused on every word that fell from your lips. She’s heard you say inappropriatiacy before, though not like this, her eyes widened like saucers, shocked that you're into something more rough, gentle, things that she hasn’t explored yet.

You were like a present wrapped in pretty cutesie designs with a leather bow on top for her.

She eventually sat down on the floor with you as both talked about past experiences of your likes and dislikes, melting off that pressure from each other no longer sculpted icicles, now a pools of serenes.

You laughed, placing a hand on her, grazing your fingers tips on her chest pulling your hand back towards you, her eyes following them back away. She effortlessly reached for your hand holding it, putting both of your hands on her warm lap, back to your eyes admiring you, finally feeling less anxious to stare deep into you. The way she could tell that you lived such a happy life, your smile lines peeking through with every joke she’d tell you, every little angered brow you’d make when she teased something about you, poking those wrinkles away. The way she could make you easily flustered, she was fallin’ deep for you in this moment. And you, being so close to her, being able to eye her body language, her biting her finger tip, squinting her eyes, with her smile that resembled seeing the first day of spring again. You were both now well beyond unknown islands, explored your forests, your seasons, and finally felt a little more daring.

“Is this seat taken?” You questioned, with that small shy smirk of yours, scooting closer to her, Vi stared down at you and damn.. you really are a gift to see up close.

“Mm.. huh?”

“Is this-“ you tap her clothed leg, “seat, taken?” Violet eyes dilated so quick from the way you asked her, as direct as you can be.

“My lap?”

“Yeah?”

She leaned back palms that were flat, now fingers gripping your rug, shaking her head no, and you plopped your plush ass on her, slotted right in between her thighs, nearing her crotch so close. After a while she gets comfortable with you on her lap as if it’s natural to be like this with you, moving her hand to your hip, thumbling your side.

“You know, when you said I’m like Jack frost, which was completely outta of nowhere” you gave her a quick pap on her chest, her snickering from your bashfulness

“Stop playing with me, I was high, okay?” You rolled your eyes, paired with a thin lipped smile.

“Well if I’m Jack frost, then you must be the tooth fairy”

“Really?— What about me gives the tooth fairy?” you asked, with a playful offended hand on your chest.

“You have all these little facts in that head of yours— - you talk really fast when you’re being bossy, you really like getting up—“ she leaned into your face “ real close to me at times, like this..and they had a little chemistry going on.”

“Oh is that what this is?”

“Is that what you want?”

You stare intensely into each other's eyes , you nodded without a word. Your hand finds its way by her ear, tracing little hearts on her cold silver piercing, her ear wiggles a bit with each brush. Violet bites the insides of her cheek trying to hold back her laugh, and you just find it cute that her ears are so sensitive. Your sun beam light lifted the roses from her body in full bloom, and her moonlit shine rose your h2o with ease, not just between your lips but your body felt gravity go from grounded to zero, bringing you both to finally do what suns and moons do best. A rarity that only some can see in once of a lifetime, she raised her hand to yours, fiddling around with your fingers until the both of you pressed against each other palms, eclipsing each other with such tenderness.

“You’re beautiful..” she confessed

“Huh, no I’m not..” you rejected her compliment, a slight shadow crippled like a mirror, you never told her you didn’t find yourself pretty, beautiful no less. She cups your cheek into her palm

“That breaks my soul that you don’t know..”

Your eyes dilate, sharing a long gaze in her natural powder blues, your lips find themselves moving again “do you really.. think..” She would love to be the one to remind you every day that no matter what, the form you take, the colors you’ve painted in her murals of life will never fade, will never escape, and always be found again and again, your colors that you splatter on her world could never be mistaken as for anything less than beauty.

“You’re the definition of beauty, princess.. I promise you that.”

You really want to kiss her right now, but you want to respect her boundaries, checking in within yourself if you are not mistaking cloud nine in the midst of green clouds. You were absolutely sure, it was clear. And so—

“Sober?” You ask her

“Sober enough to know I want you” Vi replied,Her hands caress your neck, feeling the short hairs twine with her brisk fingers. Her other tracing your jaw. Vi basked in stretched out time for your lovely eyes, then traveled down to your glossed lips, begging to be kissed. She inched closer to you, your eyes came to a close.

“Been wanting to do this since I walked in here” she said before, finally closing that gap between you both. A quick peck, before you pulled away.

“again” Vi tells you, eyes dark, pulling you in like a black hole.

You peck at her lips again. Now you’re just teasing her, a tiny evil smile perks on your lips.

“Again, rougher—- don’t hold back” she demanded, and you submit to her orders this time. You moved, slicing the distance in half, your arms finding purchase around her neck, tilting your head, and gluing it all with a gentle kiss. Soon gentleness was thrown out the window the more that hunger festered inside, together like a storm, thundering, lightning electrifying that same kiss. Vi didn’t expect your lips to have her so out of place, her brows furrowed with confusion, on why this kiss felt so different from the many she has with different women. She let out satisfied hums between the perfectly locked lips, like two puzzle pieces that were lost in a box and the other had to be searched for years later before fitting each other. Frustrations, tensions, and long awaited touches, felt all the while through kissing, she nipped at your bottom lip like a curse for waiting this long. And you, licking her top, like an apology. Your lips were so soft, so enriched with flavor, sticky, it didn’t matter, she pulled you closer to her, whimpering for more.

You could feel her scar tickling your sensitive lips, only making you let out more lewd whines. Your body felt as though you were going to meet the gods themselves from how good she’s making you feel, with only just kisses. Bodies pulsating, hearts beating in tandem, a deep groan in agreement that this kiss was long overdue, feeling the vibrations from her body, pooling another wet and hot mess in your leggings. Your hands begun moving, feeling her veins in her neck, fingers in search of her hair, pulling it as the kiss got more tantalizing. A high pitched mewl coming out of Vi.

Oh, so you have a thing for hair pulling, I can work with that.

Her hand that was once exploring your jaw, now finding itself new temptations, slightly gripping your neck, your eyelids fluttering at the touch, tickling strings of moans into her mouth, and boy was she delighted to know that, she is going to have fun with you.

“S-So good” she lets out

“Wanna leave you breathless..” you said between breaths

“Make me then..”

You chase each other like you’re both dopamine like a fever dream, wanting more and more of each other. Such a greedy mess you both are. She slips her tongue in, and gods this is even better. Her hand lays upon your hip, soft and plushy, and grips it in her hand, getting a fullfist of your inuinal crease. It surprises you so you yelp, and that surprises her, both of you getting carried away with positions, toppling over one another. Still not taking a break from kissing, even though now you both have fallen with a giggling Violet on top of you, and you a chuckling mess below. Inhaling a sharp breath as her hand makes way, down to the fat of your thigh, taking big squeezes of you. She can’t believe that she gets to touch you like this, fully going crazy in her mind that you feel so good, you taste so good, you are so good.

Wrapping a leg around her waist pulling her in, and her humming a cute tune of blissful mhm’s in your mouth. You pulled away, panting in tandem, like a hot summer's day, you felt as though you were up above beyond words that compare. Vi gazed at your eyes, then those now swollen lips, and damn was she entranced.

“Fuck, didn’t know you could taste like that”

“Probably gives you a good idea of how much you’re missing down there”

“Oh is it now?” She says, now sitting on her brawny forelegs, you loosen your thighs grip a bit for her. Watching her as she takes off her shirt, revealing a pink sports bra, and good gods, those abs, might as well pull up a pink coffin and fucking pass out ‘cause those are to die for. Those 8 prominent ridges, going bump, bump, bump, bump, down to her V line… eyeing that part for longer than a beat. Which gives you a bit of insight that those peeking carpets might fully match just like the drapes. Then flick back to her eyes, something’s different, before they matched a morning blue sky, but now, they matched midnight..

She pulls you back by the wrist into her chest, holding you by the small of your back, peppering kissing on your cheeks and your neck, you beamed another smile, and she kissed that too, and you kissed her back, chuckling away with each other.

“Damn, I.. I really can’t believe—”

“What?”

“You really don’t know how beautiful you are, genuinely. You are amazing.”

“Oh stop” you said as you strip your top off.

“No seriously, I’m—

Revealing a light blue lacey bra that did not hide those perky nips of arousal. It was the organza that showed them perfectly, spinning Violet's head around like a carousel.

“—astonished”

“You’re not bad yourself” You start,

“I mean beyond the sex appeal. You really are charming, like.. extremely exquisite. I wish.. I could—“

You heart beat, time slowed, you could hear it in your ears, it was like a beat unknown to you, or maybe familiar…

“You could, what?” She asks, her eyes again, taking you somewhere else, putting a pause on life itself..

Am I fa.. oh.. I am.. I definitely am..

“I want to make a personal word for you, because you’re more than just pretty, Violet” you answer, eyes averting her gaze, heat rising to your face. She cupped your left cheek, and your eyes found their way to those blues again, her face was beat red, yet she smiled, staring at you like you're the most gorgeous person on earth. (Which you are like duh) the air becomes light again, both breaths, both chests rise and dive. She lifts her hand near your bosom, taking a quick glance at you if it’s okay, and you nod. She grazed her thumb against your nipple, you inhaled another sharp breath, then slowly back to rise and fall. The more she circled, the more your legs clenched. She still remembers there's a wet patch between those legs, an oasis that she’d like to drink from as soon as possible..

“Let’s get you out of these, yeah?” you replied silently with a little mhm coming out of you, helping her slip off your flared leggings with repose. Legs on obverse sides of her body. She was the opposite of disappointment seeing that you had no panties on, yet amazed with how much has been going on down there. Her eyebrows raised, huffing out a laugh, “You’re up next, joker” rolling her eyes, however those ear tips of hers are more pink than her hair now. She threw your leggings behind the couch. She unclipped your bra with one hand, slipping it off swiftly and throwing that pair in the same place as your pants, keeping them both with clothed company, and most likely forgotten until.. well who knows how long you’ll both be busy for——

-Read your diary by Maneskine 🧠💄

The way her tits sat in her bra, I like those very much.. I want to..your mind drifted off wondering how her breast felt? Would she like to be touched there? And a strike of memory does hit you, she mentioned she does have sensitive breast. So you sat up, prickling at the curiosity, staring hard at her pink sports bra.

“You wanna feel em’?” You couldn’t even say it out loud, giving her an eager nod, and she captured your hand, leading you to what your eyes set on that allures your desires. You cup her breast, and they’re so.. impressive, soft and pillowy. Your mouth was in despair of a drought, needing to taste something of her. And those tits were exactly what called your palate. However, you wanna take your time with someone like this.. you want her to remember you and you remember her. You moved into her neck, lip tracing her pulse points, noisey shlicks coming from your lips coming into contact with her neck.

“Mm.. fuck” words falling from her lips, the way she just moaned fuck for you, buzzing in your ears, stroking your growing ego. You tongue swirls against her freckled skin, her breath slowing, moving your hand that cups her breast, slipping it inside her bra, circling a finger on her pebbled nipple.

“Mmhm, you like that don’t you..” you comment, voice seasoned with cockiness. Vi, hands migrating to your bare back, taking rough, and smooth touches of your blades, your spine, and reaching down to the pierced dimples of your arse. She gulps, feeling the cold metals, she's never come across a person with something like this, so excuse her for her curiosity but that mind of hers is going wild with dangerous thoughts. She wanted to bend you over on that armrest right now.. just to get a better look at those piercings.

She let out a satisfied groan, as you bit her neck, pulling her back out of those thoughts and what you’re doing to her in the presence. Lollying her head back, fluttering those violin strings, causing her to grip a piece of your ass. You bit harder from the pleasure of her grip, which prompted her to spread your cheek, stretching your pulsating hole, letting out another grunt, and holy fuck, you loved her strong hands stretching it like that. You needed her to pound those fingers inside of you, you were starving for it.

“Take this off” you adjured, snapping her bra back in place. That sting, any other time she’d tell someone to fuck off with that, but you, something about you made her want to listen like a good girl. She slipped off her bra throwing it somewhere aimlessly, revealing an arrow shaped piercing on her right nipple. It was vital that you sucked that one immediately.

“Why only one?” You questioned, and she just shrugged, you licked the bottom of your lip, nearing the right of her breast. Pink, pink, pink, damn does she love pink, wonder if she admires her pink nipples too, huh.. Flicking your tongue on the center, she jerked up, inhaling sharp breaths with each flick, while massaging that piece of ass she still was gripping. And gods was it making you flood over, body in full depths of lust. “S’fine, need you..” she moaned quietly. You wrapped your lips around that pink nipple of hers and got to work. Her hips stuttered, pleading to fuck you like this, but she’s a good girl, so she’ll wait and wants you to have your fun. Licking and suckling her nipple like it's the missing oasis, spit dripping down her perfectly painted canvas of a body. The metals clicked and clattered against your teeth, turning her on even more. Sounds like asmr the way you are delighted to lick her up. Feeling how your tongue can do many tricks, tricks that she isn’t even familiar with, melting her into your hot sun rays of a mouth. She’s biting back so many moans, she can’t let you know that only a bit of nipple play has her mind going to mush. Your fingers carefully grazing her happy trail and dammit she can’t hold back anymore. Releasing her teased nipple woth a pop.

“Ahng, please, please!”

“Please what, baby?” You quizzed, kissing her swollen nipple, staring up at her eyes. You are so fucking sexy, those eyes said let me show you how you can feel good. You were curious of course, you were down right full of bundles of thoughts all coming back to sound exactly alike: what else ticks her brain..?

“Touch me, feel me..”

“Where? Tell me where to go, Violet” you told her voice coming out soft, sultry, drunk on your cloud like tone, she grasped onto your hands putting the both of them on different sides of her grey joggers, words fail her, she can’t bring herself to say it outloud, and you don’t force her to either. “lie down for me, pretty”, and so she did, lifting her legs up as you took her joggers off nice and slow, and just like a present, you were able to witness a sight to behold, as if Achelous decided to visit her and bless you with another river of elation waters. Those black boxers were done for.. all from a bit of titty play. Maybe even more before that? Your fingertips graze the rough edge of her boxers, biting her lip with anticipation. Though, you didn’t take off her boxers.. not just yet. You gradually made way to her puffed lips, that were obviously being tortured in such a wet mess of clothing.. pressing lightly of her bundle of nerves, on instinct she grabbed your wrist, her breath came out shakey and weak, making your eyes travel to hers, she was slacked jawed, looking needy, and begging to be fucked. You enjoyed how wet she was under those black boxers, like a sensory toy for you, you could do this for hours if you wanted, and she’d let you, she’d beg, being on the brink of tears for you to eat her out. Though, she’d let you do just that, she trusts that you could make her feel good even through something as that.. torturing her cunt from not giving her your mouth right away. Fuck.. just thinking about it has her clenching her thighs togerther, then releasing again for you to keep touching her.

“I know you want it, I know.. but you’re just gonna have to be good for me, Violet. Can you be good for me?”

She released her hand from you, combing her fingers through her head, letting out a whimpered mhm, “need your mouth so bad” she urged,

You went back to your mission though, massaging her lips through her drowned clothed pussy, she rolled her hips with so much want, rolling to your rhythm, chasing your touch. She covered her face with both palms as you and her did this, so cute, so shy. Not letting you see how pathetic she can really look like as you tease her cunt.

“Mm, look at her, crying out for more. It feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Y-yesh..” she answered, hips jerking up as you near her clitoris again, she needed you badly. So, so bad. Yet, she can’t lie— she loves the way you're taking your time. Like you really want her to know how much you’ve been wanting her, not rushing a thing. You reach back up to the lining of her boxers once more, gripping them with your index fingers.

“Up, baby” you told her, she complied with a saturated groan, slipping them off down to her legs, tossing them to the side. You laid down next to her. She was still not removing her hands from her face, leaving her large nose peeking through.

So cute..

“Hey, Vi.. can you look at me?”

She slowly uncovered her face, seeing your face, taking in the air that rips from her when she lays eyes down at you. Her hair somewhat sticking to her forehead, you wanted to kiss that too.

“There she is.. my good girl.” And there goes another Niagara falls down her legs. Goosebumps prickled the back of her neck hearing you say that. ‘My good girl’ she repeated it in her head over and over, ah, she but the inside of her cheek, fighting back her overwhelming excitement.

Keep it cool… keep it cool.. do not over do it. She just called you that because of the mood. Don’t read into it…

“You’re such an ass hole..but yeah, I’m your good girl.” Yet, she let it out regardless, and checked if you were upset that she referred to herself as that, instead you were ecstatic to hear her affirm it, though…You slapped her cunt for that ‘asshole comment’ not letting that go and she let out such a high pitched moan, instantly covering her mouth. “Oh? Is that it then?” You said grinning. Giving you a grunted ‘mhm’. She’s going to get you back for that just wait!

You scoot back a bit so you can get a good view of her pussy, her bush was so fluffy, and covered with shlick, you wanted to mix yours with hers, you were dizzy for it. Suddenly she pulled you back in for another kiss, and you melted right back into her, rocking her hips as she does so, pulling moan after moan from you, as her nipples poked yours, sending frissons down your back. You could feel her hand nearing your lips, but hovering.. you pull away noticing her hesitation to touch your slit, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable but you instead tell her, encouraging that-

“Hey..I w-want us, shared, each to each, don’t worry. I’m ready. Are you?” You tell her, looking into her eyes full of want.

“I want the same as you— I’m ready, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable and.. I don’t want to fuck this up.”She admits,

“You won’t, I promise.” You said, and she nodded, sure of every move she can take with you, relieved that she can go this far with you. Her fingers sliding against your sticky wet slick, she hasn’t even tasted you yet. Already feeling your pussys analeptic effect. Just hearing your pussys slutty sounds, shlicking as she slides them slowly back and forth between those lips. Taking a nice and long taste of you in her mouth then back to your cunt. Tasting your flavors, flavors she’s bringing out of you, tasting so good for her, mmf she desired more and more. She circled your clit with her middle and ring, she felt upon you with such care, searching for that tick. You squirmed a bit and especially more after finding your spot, right near the top and little to the left. She just wanted to help you feel good, repeating the same thing she does when she masturbates. Flabbergasted that you feel that spot too, she bit back a shit eating grin, as she watched you grip onto her, sliding your hands on her muscular arms. Vi was in total euphoria seeing you like this, it was a lascivious sight, and only for her eyes to see. Feeling her callous fingers like ridges of delight, tickling and buzzing that spot. You were chasing that feeling, your gorgeous tits bounced with your motions of crave. That sensation sent waves of fuzz straight to your parietal lobe. Making you arch your back, holding her bicep for support. You released a cracked filthy whine, all for Vi to drink in.

You were fevering for her cunt, sliding your hand down slipping your fingers on her outer labia, opening them and closing them with your two fingers, “fuckin teasing me like that, princess?” She asked and fully gasped when you explored her dripping cunt, nearing her throbbing clit, slow meticulous circles on that whiney bud. Her need grew, shallow breaths the more you touched her. It felt too good, so good that she couldn’t help but buck her hips, squeezing her thighs to stimulate her clit. She hissed for more, feeling her mouth water from the inside, gulping down her drool. “M-more.. I want more, babe— mmf, please?”

“Need, y-your fingers, f-fuck.”

“Need you to fuck me, fuck me real good, hm?“ she had you spinning the way she was begging. You slid one finger in, and she lolled her head back, arching towards you, panting vigorously, tits shaking like she’ll erupt any second. “More!” She mewled, and you added another. “W-Wanna feel full of you..” you went in and out of her delicious cunt, squelching noises from each thrust of your fingers. She felt so warm, your fingers felt at home in this sopping wet cunt. Feeling you all inside her, curling your fingers, touching parts she can’t reach, god she wants to ride your fingers, but she’s too drunk on that feeling to move, until she remembers she wants to see you like this too. She slid in a finger in you, giving you a mischievous grin, and you slacked jaw at the sudden filling, you needed that, feeling those strong fingers fuck you so slow, one finger , and you trying your best not to close your thighs, moaning like you’re in heat.(you were.) and another until a ring of cream and shlick formed around her fingers, the sight was so fucking hot, you were just all sorts of surprises. Her ears buzzed with every moan she got out of you. Your voice, itched nerves that need that certain scratch, hard to reach but so satisfying to have. You both played with each other, moans filled the air, ooo’s and ahnngs’s fell from your lips, strings of slick engulfed your hands, shared kisses, and bites, and licks from each other. Both of you in utter bliss, heart beats drumming together, you bit her lip stretching it towards you, releasing it back to her, she couldn’t hold it any longer, she wanted to cum with you so bad. She grabs your shoulders bucking her hips, jerking uncontrollably as you thrust and curl your fingers in her sodden wet cunt.

You were sure that if you kept them in there long enough they’d wrinkle from how wet she is, and how long she relished to keep you inside, you’d do anything to keep the faces she was making. Didn’t care how long it took, or tired you be, this was being high but she was the substance, her moans, her twitches, her gasps, fuck her fucked out everything, you gave her more and more, the slick was getting outta control, splashing around her toned thighs, even some getting on your cunt.. You wanna make her squirt, you don’t care that it would get on your floor, the rug, fuck the rug, just fuck her til she sees stars.

You’d watch each other's faces become rich with need, then glancing at different parts of each body part that would throw you over the edge, wanting to cum together. Yet..

“Ahn,nngh I cant, b-baby I can’t, I’m c-cum..”

“My sweet girl— -cum for me, it’s okay, I’m right here” you coo’d to Vi as her walls got tighter, harder to thrust, yet you kept going for her until she bucked nice and hard, she’d pulled you into an embrace, smashing her lips against yours, having you swallow her moans, your eyes rolling behind your head, overstimulated, squeezing your thighs as you felt her come undone in your hands. So warm, so tight, her jerking became much harder, holding you tighter, sticking her tongue near the roof of your mouth, whimpering loudly, you gave her a few more good pumps, hearing something wet come out of her with each thrust. You were in love with this warmth, whether it came from inside or out.. you loved the sensation of her cumming. Her body slowly relaxed into you, she’d nuzzle her head into your neck, and using your free hand you rubbed her scalp, coo’ing sweet nothings in her ear softly, she didn’t say much just mmm’s . Pulling away, she stared at the mess between her legs.

Damn, she really did fuck me good.. I can get used to this..

Is what she would have thought until she saw the other mess she made on your rug.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!”

“Wh-why?”

“I just made a mess on your rug, I-“

You pull her into a hug, your lips nearing her ear “Violet, I don’t mind— keep doing it.. in fact do it again, but this time.. in my mouth” you said in a voluptuous tone, perking her ears. You kissed her ear and she just melted. Well in that case since all is well…

“Wanna taste you, please?” She whispered in your ear. Sending nerves upon nerves to rise and scream for her. You nodded eagerly. She coated your neck with frantic wet kisses, untying little bows of your fantasies feeling her enchanting scar against your skin, a smile played at your lips from her frenzy of greed. Decorating hickeys on your collar bone, soothing it with a long and rich swipe of her tongue, her ears delighted to hear your beautiful voice, sweet tones poured out of your mouth, her heart fluttering from each vowel.

Touring down to your breast, that glowed under your light, the shine on them was mesmerizing, the way they felt in her hands felt like she was intruding on an artist finished work. Like you shouldn’t be in her hands you should be in a museum, but selfishly like any artist admirer would do, she wants to keep you in sight of her own, even if she wasn’t the one that made you. She couldn’t let someone else see these. Just touching them feels like she’s healing; a lenitive feeling. Kissing them was even better, you’d feel her tongue tracing your areolas, swirling her tongue, suckling them as if something would come out, your head would tilt back, moaning how good it feels, squeezing your thighs together from how much she made a mess on your chest.

Trailing kisses down your sternum, licking your ribcage as if you could ever give more, feeling out your thighs again, squeezing them again, til she got to her destination, your stomach, kissing your tummy, biting it a little. And when she laid eyes on your puffy lips, it was as if her eyes became cat-like, zoned in on her favorite thing in the world.

“So pretty” she said before taking a long stripe against your outer labia, needing to tease you a bit, she wants to help you build yourself back up, it felt weird being tickled in that way, like she was pressing her pink muscle against places that were shocked to be touched like that, it sent tingles all around your dripping cunt. You’d buck your hips at her without your control, even your body knew that this sensation was immense, filling your brain with haze. She knew she’d had you under her thumb the more you kept bucking for her, urging her to try other places. She obliged to your silent begging, giving you a kitten lick on your stressed out bundle, you let out a bellyached croak. A short humorous laugh escaped her, her breath sending shivers up to your neck, “please..” you begged, “okay, okay, I’ll stop.” and when she meant she’ll stop, gods she meant it, she’d roll her tongue against you, slow, a rhythmic pace, that had you grinding against her face. Crying out her name, like it was a prayer, and she answered every last one of them. Fervorous whines and moans against your divine folds, bud intensified with lust.

She lapped desperately against your throbbing clit, you’d squirm on the floor, feeling your skin drag against the fluffy rug, tickling your back, and rough hands gliding against your plump thighs. The taste of you overwhelmed her the nerves of her brain, she kept thinking she needs to carve this into her memory. To think back on every twitch, and hitch of your breath makes when she flicks her tongue a certain way. She needs to make sure when she goes home, she can masturbate to this memory over and over again. She was savoring your juices that flowed down her mouth, not being able to catch it all frustrated her, soft groans against you— liberated your pussy. Your sweet tang fulfilling her appetite for you, making her moan against your body, circling her tongue around your hard bud, she wanted more.

“Pl-please suck on it.. I.. Vi please..” you whined, that little whine of her name coming out of your mouth your sounds sent jolts straight to her abdomen, she gave you a mhm’ before, clinging onto your thigh, she’d open her mouth to wrap her soft lips around your bundle of nerves, all the while licking it with the tip of her tongue and that send you feeling something snap within you, you gripped her hair, and pulled her in more bobbing her head into your pussy. The heat you emitted was a dangerous combination with your squelching pussy. A cunt too good to just be ate, no she had to devour you with everything she had. Especially as an apology for getting your rug all wet.

“Feels so good,nngh!”

She’d wiggle her fingers asking you silently if you’d like that too. Not taking a break to pull away from your gushing cunt.

“Fuck yes, please, stick them inside me” you implored stretching out the ‘me’ with a strained moan. She slipped one, then two, your legs shaked and almost trapped her in your thighs, stopping only one while the other shooked on the left side of her face. She rubbed little circles around your restrained thigh, and for some reason that made it feel ten times better, like she was unwinding your hips to help you release. Her mouth felt like the best squishy suction cup ever, and her nose, god her nose felt good too, loved when it grazed you a bit, she was getting real good and up in there for you.

Her fingers pounded more into you, as you bucked your hips. Vi, squeezing your ass so your clit would jump more, bingeing your every move. She reached up to grab one of your tits, pawing at it, and dammit that was it! A couple of rubs from your nipples and her sucking on you like she was starving— melted you from the insides. Like a volcano that’s been needing to erupt for thousands of years, you rumbled and tumbled and finally releasing, feeling your bud throb in her mouth as you let go, her holding your hips, indenting them with her rough fingers, the orgasm feeling all the more rippling inside of you, you had no choice but to arch in her arms. Quivering legs until you finally relaxed, she crawled up to your tummy for sanctuary, laying her head on top of you, panting, “G-Gods….”

“Y-You alright?” You asked exhausted, playing in her hair, and she hummed lovingly against your stomach, twining your fingers with her fuchsia locks. She is so close to your warm body, she’s practically sticking to you ”ye-, give me a moment..”

ᥫ᭡

When you both regained your energy, it was another trial of fucking to get to, it was as if that one moment unfolded and gave you the code to pandoras box of wonders, you had Violet standing up on against your wall, if this was dream I bet you’d never want to wake up from it. And speaking of dreams, Violet felt like she was walking on clouds the way you traced your fingers on her thighs, it’s been a while since someone appreciated them. Every time you touched her it felt like a song, a personal symphony sung from her nerves, crying out to gods that she was safe with you. If her soul was bare she’d let you touch that too. You massage the back of her legs trickling your way up to her buttocks, a shallow-slow breath emerges from her, your breath embracing her drenched pussy. A delectable thing to witness, your orbs turning to saucers, you’re about to eat out Violet lanes, it was nerve wracking. Fingering her is one thing, seeing her pussy swallow your fingers was amazing, but this is different. You stare up at her body, admiring her entire. This god of a woman was standing in front of you, biting her knuckle, averting her gaze from you. Shy little thing, but what does she need to be shy about? She’s a strong, beautiful, relentless person. Every scar from each fight, every back breaking muscle, the pieces of her mirror broken yet glued with gold by herself was completely in puddy within your hands. ‘Bout time someone reminds her that she deserves more, whether it’s through pleasing her, flattery, or simply taking care of her. And right now you have that chance to take care of her.. and hopefully you can do a mass of any want she could ever desire. As much work she’s put into herself, you’d be grateful to even support just as she to and for her.

“Thank you”, you said before diving in her lips, spreading them with your tongue, and from that first lick, she had to hold your head, and the wall to keep herself steady. Biting back a loud one at that, you kept going though, slow and precise, until you noticed her rolling her hips against your face. She used to only think this would happen in her next life, as many night shed traced your touches on her, craving for summer to come again so you’d have more places to lay your hands on, when you’d share a laugh bumping into her chest, laughing in it when you couldn’t get back up from one of her jokes. Even a simple hug when your warmth would linger could be enough for her to fantasize you holding her as she gave you the best strokes of your life. And she knows she’d do a good job at it, she just didn’t know today would be that day you’d be kissing her clit in ways that have her knees almost buckling. Holding her thighs so tightly, massaging them as you painted slow brushes to her pulsating mantle, and slurped her sweet fluids.

“Mhm, use my mouth baby, use it” you’d say, and she waul from it. Sticking two fingers inside of her, moving them like the waves of the ocean, and her hips followed as such.

“Mmf, d-don’t do that, Gonna cum quick with you talking like that.. hngh, ah—, yes, yes, oh—my gods! Yes—s..”

You could taste everything from her, her worries, her love, her fights, everything , it was enthralling, had her rambling nonsense as you replace your fingers with something more entrancing, sliding your tongue inside of her fluttering hole. You completely lost in it, and she was lost in your eyes, heart going crazy, wanted to leap out and kiss you itself, she bit down on her lip, whimpering your name every now and then. You kept playing with her cheeks the whole time, gripping on her fat ass, spreading it ever so often, slapping them, whatever whichway, it helped you immensely, she bucked harder into your mouth as you did that each time she whimpered your name. You pulled away for only a second to breathe, and she fiercely pulled you back, moaning her name in her pussy.

“I’ll..ha—h fuck.. I’ll l-let you know when you can stop licking”

Well fuck if you’re gonna be down there for so long, you figured tracing your name on her clit wouldn’t be a bad idea, she’d moan and laugh at your constant traces of your name on her. Though, she did enjoy your tongue plenty.. You didn’t just want her to only get head, no you wanted to entertain her too, so what better way to do it on this floor? You pulled away again and she cried a gargled moan out.

“Vi baby?”

“Mhm? Y-yes?“ she asked looking down at you, not ripping her eyes from your siren calling self.

You planted both your feet on the floor, crouching, she tilted her head if you were about to get up, but no, you went back to stuffing your face full of her sodden cunt swirling circles around her bud, she was slacked jaw from the way you use your air against your tongue to thrum it against her jittering pink nub. She couldn’t remove her eyes from you, looking down at you but noticed something different.. you were moving your ass while giving her head, and fuck was she entertained, you felt her clit get even harder as she watched your ass moved up and down, ripples moving as you stared deep into her eyes, those sexy eyes of yours plus your arse, those piercing, then massaging her clit with your lips, sending her on a different atmosphere.

“Need to fuck you.. I need to fuck you everywhere…”

“Fuck me after you cum for me, pretty”

“You’re so l-ah! So fucking lucky..” if she wasn’t damn near buckling her knees over this head your giving she’d fuck you senseless right now. Tongue fucking her again as her hair tickled your nose and once you giggled it had her yelp bending over into you,

“Awe, fuck! Yes baby!” She blubbered on and on how it felt so good.

You mumbled against her pussy and it talked right back to you, curling her tongue to cup her clit, flicking it giving her a more heavy sensation of your tongue, Vi was at the edge of your mercy, ready to just fall into your mouth the way you swallowed her up. You began rolling your hips, your heat aching for her as it dripped on the floor. You’d flatten your tongue letting her take control for a bit.

“Just like this” she whispered

“Just like this baby, mm..”

She came undone again, hips stuttering against your face as she cradled your head, moving it the way she wanted to move it, pulling your hair abit, making your roll your eyes back from that feeling and once she was done using you like a toy you’d flick your eyes up at her, gazing at her fucked out face, you were adorably stuck, a little smile growing on your lips. You were still awkward about how you presented yourself, yet she once again melted that down from you. A puddle under you and puddle were you. She cupped your face holding you, thumbing your cheek, admiring your glistening face, swollen lips.

“I like you, I like you— a lot..”

“Mhm—-like..me some more, love.” You replied

“Will do..” She said leaning her head back to the wall taking another breather. Her eyes lingered around the room, landing on the couch.

perfect.

“Get your sexy ass up on that couch, and open those legs up.” She demanded

“Oh? Someones trying to be in charge” you teased, rising up from the floor,

“I’ve always been in charge— just… a girl can’t enjoy herself?”

“You’ve been enjoying yourself alright” you said turning on your heel sauntering your way to the couch, Vi giving you a quick smack on your ass, you snickered, rolling your eyes from her lil bravado. Taking a seat on the arm rest, watching her walk over to you, damn did she look good naked, and walking just took it to another level of sexy.

You lounged your elbows on the edge of you couch tilting your head. You’d lick the bottom of your lip with a quick motion.

“Why are you looking at me like you wanna pounce on me?”

“Maybe I do”

“You’re gonna have to put a pin on that cupcake” she commented, gliding her hands on your hips, “wanna try something for you” giving you a quick wet kiss, turning you around, facing her, back against nothing. Only a shove could place you right into the cushions, but Vi has that in store later. She’d grasp a full piece of your ass in her hand, thumbing around your dimple piercing, kissing up your neck. She would draw her name out on your stomach right before she reached your slit, running her finger tips along her new well used toy, curious how much you could take. She glides through your folds with ease, her fingers were becoming a favored familiar feeling, your walls took well to her, not putting up a fight, never drying out. She shlicked in another.

Her eyes low lidded, staring at your already quivering lip, she didn’t move her fingers just yet, she let them stay there for a bit, warming her up, as your honeyed waters flowed in her hand.

“Wanna take three?”

“Mhm, stretch me out..” and as soon as you gave her the green light, she slid one more in your crying calcifer, “Yeah.. there you go”, she said sinking them in, three knuckles deep into your needy heat, your hands found there way on her back holding her close, letting out pornohraphic moans, the sound of your arousal going in and out and in and out, echoing wall to wall, not missing a beat from wherever the noise came from next, littering your neck with more wet kissing cooing you that you can take it, in your ear, turning you on even more.

“Gonna take real good care of you..” she kept going, stuffing you full, her thrust became more rough as time went on, you could feel power coming from her workouts in your greedy little cunt, it was too much but just enough to have you drooling. You’d move your hands to her shoulders, steadying yourself on her, grinding your hips to feel more.

“You like being filled don’t you? Mhm— oh you like that word filled?, don’t think I didn’t see that clit twitch when I said that”

You laid your head on her exposed chest, hiding yourself from your face, now understanding why, it was so embarrassing for someone to see you completely in utter disbelief with ribboned hornyness ironed on your face. A truth that you could easily see through, that you were a horny mess. Whining and whimpering against her, feeling the vibrations of your voice, foggying up her head with just you pleading for her to fuck you harder.

“Mhm, yeah.. c’mere, bring your ass closer so I can suck on those pretty tits”

Popping one of them in her mouth as she made work with your clit with her thumb,

“Had so mush fum with mime, mashty girl…” she babbled with a wet nipple in her mouth, all of it was sending waves to your head and thighs. With grooved crafted long fingers making there permanent dips in your bed of incalescent, you barely being able to focus on anything.

She aided your backdoor arousal, unknowingly, as she noticed you rolling your hips again, in doing so using her free hand moving your plush arse to rub against the couch, stimulating your body the best she can.

You cried when she pulled away from your swollen sweet pebbled nip, shutting you quick with a hand that was once gripping your cheek now around your throat. She slant her head to the side, her eyes trailed down to your tits, then her plunging fingers in your tight cunt, “hear that? That’s you about to cum..”

“So this is what we’re gonna do, okay? You’re gonna be halfway off the couch, while I take another taste of you. Good? Good..”

Fucking angel fallen from the golden gates..

She took away her soaked fingers and sucked the slick off of them real nice and slow for you, pushes you to bend backwards on the couch, pulling your legs around her head, going back in for seconds.

“Good girl, mm you’re so good..’mmm” she said taking a long swathe of your pussy, slurping a ton of you, you knew her tongue was long but goodness gracious it was tracing the rugae of your cunts walls. You tried to touch your clit as she used her tongue to thrust in you but she smacked it away, and slapped the top your pussy, making you clench on her. And boy did that feel good, her soft muscle of a tongue felt so different, you were gripping the cushions of the couch, reaching for the head of it to grip its edge, something because your mind was slowly breaking.

She gripped her arms tighter helping you get closer in her mouth, yanking you back and forth, your ass dragging against the material of the couch, spinning your head around, and another snap went as a pitch of your whine like a symphony spread throughout the room as your legs shake uncontrollably. Vi could feel your body pulsate, your legs closed pulling her head deeper inside of you as you jerked your hips.

She pulled out, panting “you tapped out?”

You gave her your middle finger, “okay, guess not”

You reached out for her to help you up and she took hold of your wrist pulling you up from the couch, embracing her as soon as you got near her chest. Your arms wrapped around her neck, your legs soon following the same action around her waist. Kissing her deeply, she was caught off guard by your sudden energy, kissing you with the same vigor, holding you up by your ass cheeks digging her nails in your flesh. You gripped on her jaw, nails making crescent moons on her sharp jaw. Shakey breaths in between separation, magnetic to come back for more. Your fingers carding through her fuschia mullet, your fingers not only her drug in her hot wonders, but her hair too. You were dangerous for her. Dangerous for her heart, and the beat that grew again in her core.

“Fuck, I figured you’d want a break” she exhaled out breaking the hot kiss you both shared.

“First of all, why didn’t I feel that earlier when we made out?” You inquired her, almost hinted with furious.

“Was scared..”

“About what?!”

“Not a lot of people like the feeling of something long hitting their uvula..”

“Fuck them!”

“You sure cause..”

“Vi..not the time” you scolded sternly, irritation mounted your face, in the back of your head the thought of even sharing her was nerve shattering. Especially after experiencing that.

“‘Kay..” she said thinning her lips, holding back her smile, she liked this side of you. Never thought in a billion years you’d want her like this..

Possessive already, sheesh.. (she’s not complaining)

She gave you kiss on your cheek to melt that off of you, hoping you’d forgive her, and yes it worked. Can’t stay mad for long anyway. You’d tap on her shoulder signaling her to let you go. She slowly set you down and you swiftly moved behind her. A look of confusion washed over her features, wondering what are you up to now?

“Bend over on the couch please?”

“What’re you?”

“Please?”

“Fine, better tell me if you’re gonna stick something in me”

“I would never not tell you that” you said giving her ass a good smack she let out a shriek that made your pussy weep from that high pitch. You absolutely adored her voice pitches.

“Spread ‘em” you ordered her, she sighed, moving her legs away from each other.

“I promise I won’t stick anything in you without permission so cut it out with the attitude”

“Maybe if I was being fucked right now I wouldn’t have it”

“Okay smart ass” you muttered, pressing a thumb on her outer labia, Vi hummed happily that you started touching her again. Except, you were only using your thumbs, massaging her lips, pressing them together, dripping her nectar down on the floor.

She’d whine moving her tush for you to do something else, but you had this evil grin on you.

“Nuh uh, you were being a smart ass.”

“Sorry please, need you”

“Not gonna work, babe” you denied her, she let out this sob and you spanked her for it, another high yelp coming from her. She bit her lip down, groaning. However every smacked you gave, you did not fail to see that her tremoring waters were falling down her muscled thigh. You moved your hands to her ass, drawing small circles around her supple cheeks. Tingles were killing her on the inside, upset from no penetrating fingers and oddly enough, curious satisfaction from it, it felt as though you were enjoying her little shakes from being deprived of your lack of fucking her. Shallow breaths emitted from her, and the build up was no secret, you were working her up something fierce. Stripping her of her privileges was just the start, you’d near her pussy every now and then only to give her nothing, blowing on clit, thinking she’d finally get some, only to bite her thigh the next.

After a a half an hour of you fucking with her head, you gave her a little prize for not begging, or trying to get something to touch her rose bud, you kiss her cunt sloppily, swaying you head from side to side lapping at her bushy pussy, burrying your face thoroughly into her musk,.

“Oooh, fuck..— eat that pussy mmm! Fuck.. yeah baby” she’d moan, bobbing your head as you laved in her folds, pulling more wauls from her, gobbling her right up.

“Oooh,, fuu—ck “ a prodigous hunger you become acquainted with every time you submerged into her mess of a cunt.

“Awe shit, oh gods…” her legs mimicking temblors, desperately wanting to move around, but everytime she even as shake her ass into your face you’d smack it hard and rough, preventing her from just adding more friction.

“Lemme grind into your face please, please, need to!!”

“Uhh-uh” you say and she felt it, grinding her teeth, drool seeping into your cushions, fuck it she had to bite down on something, it was torture not being able to rub her throbbing axon of ardor. You’d break away from her pussy, drown from her intoxicating natural perfume, a muffled whine feathered from her lips. You had to pull away just for a bit…to admire her butt that is.

You gave her another smack, making a red hand mark on her pale ass. You groped the round of her butt, giving her a good harsh squeeze, roughly playing with her ass, always seeing it just not in your hands often put your mind in a frenzy, of course you were an ass girl after all. You gripping on creases that weren’t too far away from her rounds, shaking them to make sure you got see this lecherous ass vellicate in your hands. Watching it bounce, wriggle, whatever it was breathtaking, gave you a good scratch to your brain.

“H-Having fun there?” She asked and you ducked under her legs seeing her face all red, breathing out a laugh, “fuck you”

“I bet you’d like that huh?”

She sighed deeply, pushing her face into the cushions.

“Oh be quiet, you’d do the same thing to me. In fact you’ve been pawing at my ass quite a bit today”

“It’s a nice ass” she stated, murmuring into the couch but loud enough for you to hear the words. You rose back up, shifting your focus back to her arse again, you’d spread them apart to marvel at her pink pretty pussy, and her.. throbbing anus.

“Hey..”

“What?”

“Can I.. can I stick my tongue in here?”

“Why..?”

“Just curious “

“Mm..I mean.. go for it let’s see if I like it”

Pretty sure you will the way it’s all twitchy

You gather a large amouth of saliva, drippling it down to her anus, watching it slide over her slit. You didn’t want to rush this, so back to her pussy it is!

You licked her entire vagina, you moaned without a care in the world, eating her like she's the last waterfall on earth. Her slicked mimicked a certain plant, a gingembre de la ruche, the kind that you have to squeeze out, getting your hands all messy with its thick and creamy substance, you slurped with delight. Her ass ricocheting against your face, muffled sobs of sweet eudemonia.

You moved up to her arse swirling your tongue into her ass hole, and to your surprise it’s actually sweet… like extremely sweet. And after find that out you gogred yourself to her rimmed ass,

“Oh! Um?! Oh fuck?” You slid your tongue inside of her, getting more of her, a swell filled your core, tingling with excitement knocking at your entrance, something possessed you the more you drilled your tongue in her hole, kissed it, licked it, going deep inside of it, fuck it all you didn’t care, it was so sweet and addicitive, you couldn’t help but go back for more.

“Okay..fuck—.. oh, FUCK!” Something clearly possessed Vi too, at first it was weird, like a weird tickle, and then it broke, whatever strings of decency she had ripped from her and had her gritting her teeth to feel more of you sink your tongue inside of her.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes” she rocked her hips to feel more and you gripped onto her, hugging her legs, another long stripe from her clit to her ass again, and again, like she was candy herself. Her legs were shaking, pussy pulsating, and her arse begging for more. And then you stopped.

“Huh? No.. no,no, no.. I was so close, baby please.” She even stomped on the floor for a second, your eyes buldged at her tiny tantrum. You winded your arm back and spanked her, knocking some sense back into her.

“Nope, water break” you clearly stated, pronouncing each word fully, sticking your finger in her cunt once more, her knees buckled and she caught herself on the couch. You sucked your fingers walking away as she laid on the couch, panting.

“Yeah you’re right.. water break. Definitely need a water break.” You pressed something cold against her cheek, and she whined from the sudden freezing bottle.

“Big baby”

“Whatever” she replied, snatching the bottle from you. you jortled at her, you’d seen her have an attitude plenty of times, but this is just downright hilarious, over some ass eating? Seriously?

“I wanted to finish..” she pouted taking a drink from the bottled water.

“In a minute” you decided, another annoyed huff from her.,

ᥫ᭡

-Own my mind by Maneskin😵‍💫🔒

She sat on the cold coffee table, nervous she might break it, you’d reassure her that everything is okay, it’s a really sturdy table. Her shoulder tension soon untied and loose, widening her legs for you, and hands planted behind her. Her hair stuck to her forehead, she'd comb it out of the way, her body still sticky from earlier, abs glistening in the light. You’d peer at your window seeing the sun setting, no ones ever been able to keep up with you like this, it was nice. Of course Vi could keep up, she doesn’t have a body like that for no reason, but you’d worry if her libido has been strained. You’d check in with her and she would tell you with eyes full of certainty and trust: I’m not that tired, I’ll let you know if I need to stop. And last but not least a fire that was still going behind all of that validity.

Since you were so worried she might be pushing herself, you’d decided that you should have a safeword: red.

You gradually slither your fingers from her abdomen to her sternum, taking a flick from the bottom of her nipple, she’d wince from the sudden touch, feeling something hot within her gut, you’d repeating this movement in the interim waiting for a sign that she’s ready for your next ecstasy of curiosity. Your sign came out, enough for you to hear a low throaty moan freed from her soft lips. Your expression on your face was pulling her in, that greedy smile that you bit down with your teeth, your lids halfway closed, lashes fluttering hinting something perverted within you. Vi rotated her hips for you, her face was flushed like hues of ripe strawberries when your finger pulled her non-pierced nipple.

Releasing it making her tit bounce back, you’d take both of your fingers poking, rubbing, flicking her nipples (pay back for flicking your forehead earlier) a dopey laugh loosed out from your succulent lips, and huff from her mouth.

“I said I was sorry, stop being such an ass about it” she proclaimed, her nose scrunching up a bit, but her tone hinted, want, desperation. Her jumping pink cherry, not really helping her out with being a chest puffed out prick. More like please fuck me but I’m going to pretend I’m being a bitch.

“You actually never said that but go off” you quipped, flicking her nipples again, another stained whine from Vi. Your eyes took an interest between her legs and noticed a pool of her liquids leaking off of your coffee table. You’d smirk, the thought she was getting off just from her tits made you throb all over.

“Oh so you are into bdsm” you said outloud, not realizing that wasn’t an inside thought.

“Huh..”

“Huh”

“Wait you- are we going t-?”

“Mm.. I think that would be a bit much for you.. today” you interrupt her, fast talking over whatever she was saying that made your face firey, avertying your view from her. Your ears were hot as fuck, embarrassed that you actually said that to her. You don’t want her pondering on that so, you bent down, lips kissing and sucking her abs, you been itchin to lick the sweat off of her, she’d clutch onto her own thigh from the libidnous assault on her abs, your tongue encircling them, and her panting from the carnivorous display. She grabbed your jaw, planting a wet messy kiss on your lips, tasting her sweat off of your tongue, you both humming in between breaths. She guided you to sit on her lap, straddling her, legs quivering over the large rigid muscle. Hard as a damn rock it was.

Your fingers made their way to her fuchsia locks, pulling it, it felt so good that she pulled you closer, breast pressing against each other, nipples teasing with each shake. She’d pull on your nipples as revenge, yet is it really?— When you're in fact moaning her name?

You ripped yourself from her lips, her brows furrowed frustrated that you wanted to keep teasing her.

“Wait—“ you paused, her nose scrunching up again, her lip upturning to let out a- “ before you get mad I have a proposition”

Her face relaxed, and she manspreaded her legs, you gulped from her still being able to exude that masculinity even in this state, fucking janna you needed to stuff her cunt in your face again!

“Proceed” she growled, she was still a little pissed with the interruption.

ᥫ᭡

You came out of your room with a big bottle, a smiled buddened your lips.

“What’s that?”

“Lube”, she shook her head waiting for you to finish why you have that, with nothing else in your hand.

“Wanna try anal?”

“Um…” she said with puckered lips.

“We don’t have to!”

“No! I.. okay.. —- uh..I don’t want to do strap anal.. YET! “ she corrected you before you figured she was scared of that idea or even protestant of that suggestion, “But another time, sure..”

“Okay that’s cool, I.. I- that’s I didn’t bring anything.. I’ve tried it.. but I know you definitely wouldn’t want to try that all at once.. To tell you the truth it’s a lot at first..”

“Fingers would be better though,” you continued. Her eyebrow quirked up, hearing that.

“Can we try it with—fingers?” She asked, her eyes dilating, as she danced her gaze between you and the bottle.

ᥫ᭡

You first poured it on the surface of her ass then filled it with the lube..“Nngh, that’s cold..”

“It’ll be warm in a bit” you reassured her, kissing her inner thigh.

“I’ll start with one finger and if you want two, tap me” she nodded, “Vi.. I’m not going to insert it right now”

“But—“

“Aren’t you scared? It might hurt”

“I trust you.. I think I can handle it if it’s you..” her eyes were glossy, biting her lip, darting from your orbs to your lips. You bend down to her face, nearing her lips again. “Gonna take this nice and slow, okay frost?”

She let out a light snort from that dumb nickname. You interrupt her laugh with a kiss, and she instantly melted into you, a enjoyable hum coming from her, your lips sort of fight a bit for dominance, not much of a fight though, from you, her scarred lip once again trembling your hooded secret, her hands cradling your face, pulling you into her more. Her tongue no longer shy reaching deep down your throat, you breathed deeply through your nose for air. It felt as though you were making out with the most indelible woman in the world, actually not it was a fact. A dangerous fact that had you caught in her muscled clutches, welcomed to be captured by her. The kiss grew deeper, delicious tongues, and teeth were shared, long pining moans in an earth plate shaking tango. You’d tuck her hair back from her face, removing her tickling locks from your nose, she moved her head back and forth, tongue fucking your throat, and you were all accepting of it. Your Oropharynx, being treated with such devotion, enamored with her tongue as well which alerted your brain to alert your blooming dripping flower to be overflowed with want.

You kneaded her abdomen, feeling the pressure of her hardened tissue, appreciating her dedication with a well deserved massage, her abs contracting at your compassionate touch. You fingers made their way down to her happy trail, enjoying the sensation of her hairs twining with your fingers, her moans through her now rough frenching, louder, swallowing each one, gladly. You pulled away sucking down one more moan, a honeyed line connecting you both. Together, stertorous, sucking the air back into your lungs, fuck the air you craved to touch more of her, you sat on her lap. Her hands naturally holding you down, your mouth eager for her ear, playing with it, circling her lobes with your wet pink muscle. Her back arched from your play, motioning you to grind on her lap, and you did. You fucking did whatever the fuck she wanted with an angelic voice like that pouring into your ears, your walls being able to hear such a voice fall from golden gates and into your home. If the walls could applaud they would, if the atoms in the air could do backflips they would, if only you could permanently have this moan in your head like a ongoing vinyl youd fucking would.

Your fingers danced around her palms intertwining yours with hers, an intimate loving way to tll her everything is going to be okay, holding your hand would had her losing her shit, instead she was losing herself not understanding where you began and she ended, mind boggled by how you got her so pathetic for more of you. She apologized for letting go over your hand but she needed to touch herself right now, or she’d bite down on her tongue to punish herself for not even taking the opportunity to show you how she pleasures her needy folds.

You watched her swirls her fingers around her crying gummy button, slick loud in her palms, moans crying out your name, bucking hips with so much energy, gods what a damn sight. You had to repay her, so you’d licked her pulse points, rolling your tongue and more intricate skills against her sweet spot. She sobbed your name in response to those sensations you and herself gave her. Your mouth latching on that very sugary sweet spot, sucking it again and again, soothing it with delectable swipes of your tongue, she was tearful for it. You’d lick her tears away coo’ing in her ears “go on, cum”.

However, she did want to very much so, she felt her anus needy, so she grabbed your free hand as you littered her with hickeys, moving it towards her downstairs heat. Catching on quick with your wit, you circle it a bit

“Please, please, please, —pleaseeeee” she grunted that last ‘please’, desperate for it, you stick only a half a digit, a tip of it in, kneading her tit in your other hand. You’d do this repeatedly, until her anus was trying to gulp you up. Stretching it a bit expanding her, another wail coming from her, biting her pearly whites on her precious bottom lip, you also gnashed your teeth on her ear pulling it, her back felined deeper.

You released it, whispering “how many times have you masturbated to me Vi?”

Her hips lurched from the sudden question, her ears crismon, how the hell did you know that she was tending her hot pussy to you?

“Better tell me or I won’t—“ you circled her clenching hole again, needing to be filled up by you, sobbing for you to put it in, only met by more teases.

“I.. ah.. — can you— mmf, oh god, princess please?”

“Uh-uh not until you tell me…”

You began to lapped at her nipples making sure both got attention, suckling her pierced one the most. Her head was a circus filled with too many things and too many thoughts going back to: I need to be full right now, fuck it all, fuck meeeee.

“Mm! -mmmhfwa.. I.. haah— o- ok, okay, oka—y fi—ne!” she whined, lollying her head back.

“Often, almost every time I leave.. I masturbate to you, your voice, that look in your eye, everything, even if your not wearing makeup, or if your hair is messy it helps out even more— happy? Now fuck me please”

You slid a finger warming her until shes ready for movement her lipped quivered and her voice tainted with only please coming out her mouth.

“B-baby I told you.. c’mon!”

“Since”

“Fuck! You’re such a bitch for this!” She cried again, you jerked in your her finger hard into her and she rolled her eyes back, gargling a moan out, “s-sh-sorry”

You kept it still, warming her again.

“Since I— I.. fucking hell. Princess, I’ve been masturbating to you since we met” she turned to you with puppyed eyes. Your eyes widened at her confession, your chest rising and falling, heat rushed throughout your entire body like embers making out with each memory you had with Vi since meeting her.

You began fucking her senseless, her ass and your fingers making abhorrent noises, especially as she masturbates, “You’re a dirty, little sweet treat, huh?” She nodded, moaning your name, memories of her masturbating to you, smothering her mind,“Nn-need your tongue, princess”

Your lips made contact again, tongue fucking eachother, quelching against each other, as you recoiled your hips, giving your inferno a some kind attention. Your falls, dribbled down her legs,”shho—warm” she tried to speak through your passionate kiss, you ripped yourself away again, lettinf out “fuck this, Need you in my mouth now”

You got on her knees lapping at her pussy she taped your cheek, and you slid in two for her as she began riding your fingers you played with her bush, and happy trail as you fucked her both ways. Both holes clenching down as you jiggling her ass with your free hand giving her more friction. Her mind and body being able to keep up with your tongue filling her hole, and your fingers, convulsions taking hold of her as she cried out your name so loud you knew your neighbors heard her, her musk was addictive, and her cum, twice as much, creaming on your tongue, and drowned, you thought you died but of course from muscle memory to remind yourself: I need to drink her, all off her. She didn’t stop cumming, she held your head close to her as she let out her squirt in your supple mouth.

ᥫ᭡

No mistaking it, you were both checking off to your lists of what else you’ve been craving to do to each other. All of this tension, all of the almost there's, and tooth rotting, hair pulling yearning that could have been melted with one kiss.

Her eyes roll back, her mouth slacked open a tasty moan, as she felt both of your lips make contact, “This feels— way better than.. ah,I-.. oh fucking hell… way better than I thought— ‘nngh” moaning, as her nails digged into your hips, slapping eachother cunts together, the friction going to both of your heats. Her hands find their way to your neck again, only pressing a berry size bit, the sensation peaked your sense you’d still try to speak to let her know, “Violet your sho warm..“,gliding together, your cunts glistened, shined.

Gushing against each other, her rocking her hips slow, the more you both shook against each other, the more you both became molten, “Babe, you hips are violently shaking..against me.. I- aah-, aah-, aah!”, clarets kissing each other ever so often spinning you both for a loop, minimal movement restricting both poise papillons thrills. It wasn’t enough for either of you but hardly stopped any stutters, only warmth, and titillation arousal kept you both going. “Can’t help it, feel too good” you replied.

Vi took grasp of your hips, her abs convulsing, with every touch of the curve of your arse, tides of your skin shook within her hand once she found a good cadence for your gliding cunts. “ fuck,fuck, fuck, fuck!” Vi cried out. But after finding a moment of consistent pleasure.. You were absorbed within it, pleasing the both of you that all you could hear in the room were your tulipe d’afriques clapping. A tune that never could be anything more than ustulation. Seraphic noises in the air, only reaching into ears of the perverse, and sweet throbbing clarets. Her nails marked you all around your lower body, fevoring for her favorite flower. Littering both of her cheeks with falcate bows in her skin, more red marks for her collection. It took one look from each other to interlocked, neither of you being able to look away from this moment you shared each to each as if this was a personal sweven that only you could wish on a starry night to have.

“This is really bad, why does everything feel so damn good with you..”

“I think I’m getting addicted “ she continued, another rush of her sugary throbbing drupe caressing yours, your eyes fluttering close, gritting your teeth at her shallow pants, all you could say was “So slippery”, as your eyes made home to the back of your head. “C’mere, w-want us to cum” she told you as she yanked your body closer to her, nipples giving eachother quick kisses, it was as if Violet was engulfed by your beams like a sensational time to apricate against you and only you. Her sun, her beaming beautiful sun, she could have mistaken her need to be closer to you as heliophilia if she knew how much she grown accustomed to your hot spell. As she slotting against you more, the squish of your lips together making obscene noises, getting close to your climax.

Your mind snaps and you let out cries, wrapping your arms around her neck, you didn’t stob rucking against her though, you pleaded “hold me” in her ear, and she embraced you tightly, her biceps curling against your supple skin, throaty gulps of moans in a sealed kiss as you both arrived on eachother. Hips becoming broken records just like Violet's vocal cords when she’d stare at you for too long. Now comfortable to view you, your essence, your spirit, and the comfort of a cotton candy embrace.

ᥫ᭡

You both cuddled on the couch, but only for a bit, you both popped this question that spun in your brains, creating rooms for free. Consent was given, and peppered kisses were shared as you. Both drank more water, a quick snack, and went back to business. But before you simply just went back.. that consent that was told before, must be wrapped and sealed carefully. Promised with a white cloud.

Your eyes became dark seeing the way she watched you lick the brown wrapper sealing it carefully. She placed the blunt in your mouth, waiting for her to light it. She’d flick her zippo lighter your way, burning it with ease. Shifting her body around to place it back in her grey sweats that were carelessly casted away.

That smoke twirled in that air, energy of love pouring into each of your cups, not being able to tell when she begins and you end.. as you both shared this blunt.

As was stated before, a high only heightens prior emotions, and no mistaking that this was going to be the best one yet. The mood shifted into something more deeper than before, it was as if you could feel each other's sexual energy, it quaked in your heart, and throat. A silfira, born. No, not born broke from the crust of the earth to emerge between you. She took a long drag of it before nuzzling her head into your collar bone, licking your nape in flat tongue motions, while playing with your pois papillon again. Gathering your syrupy slick along her calloused fingers, you’d laze against her, unwinding under her touch. Letting out soft pitcher lullabies, every vibration you let out reached her, like they were thrusting inside of her, cruising against your waves of honey.

“Mm, wanna fuck on the bed?” She suggest, focus on your slick sticking to her fingers.

“Mhm, carry-aah-, me?”

“Of course, baby”

ᥫ᭡

As Vi set you down on the bed, a thought crossed her mind, and groaned from that very thought. She was upset she didn’t bring her strap for you, of course she had no idea this would be the day you both would step over that pink ribbon of a line. Although not everything was lost, you admitted you have one, recently bought out of curiosity. You wanted to see what a girthy strap was like, searching online you found one. A black strap called ‘black mamba’ piqued your curiosity, it had thick veins, and the tip was big but soft. It has been sitting in your closet since the last time you took it out, just to feel it, and test it if you and it were a good match. Lots of lube needed to be used, though it just didn’t feel right exactly. You kept it in your closet because using the strap yourself wasn’t enough. Frustrations were the main reason for its imprisonment.

-Angel (Remastered 2019) by Massive Attack 💢⭕️💢⭕️🌹‼️

Now there was a ludic reason to finally bring it back out.

You were at the foot of the bed, on all fours, one hand underneath your legs, gripping the black strap shaft, not entirely swallowing it within your melting core. You were in fact plopping the rubber bulbous in and out of your needy heat, it felt even more good with thc in your system, all the while Vi rubbed your ass. You let out a breathy laugh, you could feel Vi was struggling just seeing you in control. You suggested she’d take a breather, lay down, relax, that was the idea, until you lightbulbed more scandalous brainstorming in that crafty mind of yours. Upon using both of her hands, entranced by the plopping sounds your pussy would make every time you took back out. You were in a particular mood, the kind that feeds her hunger, the kind that has you truly in deep plunging waters of seclouth. Her eyes were completely captivated by your stretched out slutty cunt. She paid attention to your pussy, as it gushed slick, making honeyed cord lines every time you make contact with the black bulbous.

“So fucking hot, holy shit, you’re so hot”

She felt anguish to not be able to just push your head into the mattress, giving you the most visceral strokes into your crying tight tulipe d’afrique. Fine, if she can’t have her play, then she’ll just fuck you in other ways. —-You see Vi wasn’t just getting fucked by you earlier. She was taking notes, and she’s a quick learner. She played with your trembling anus before gripping on your ass stretching your other hole, sending you off the rails. You’d plopped the black bulbous in quicker, “if you’re going to keep teasing me like that, can you..” trailing off, swaying your ass telling her silently: fingers now… She let out a soft whine hearing you say that, she was so curious to see how you take well to her fingers in there, you’d slipped the bulbous inside of you, warming it while vi … well she filled your anus with the same lube you filled hers. She made sure she grabbed the bottle while you were looking for your black mamba in the closet, with the way you described it seemed like you’d need it, and boy how much you needed… not just for that strap.. Came in handy, no? After a few teases of your ass hole, and throaty wet gulps from the anticipation, she dipped her fingers inside of you. You grit your teeth from being full from both ends, planting your face deep in the bed. Your legs twitched insufferably, Vi would take her free hand and massage your calves, making sure you were really feeling good.

“Awe is my baby about to cum? Hm? You wanna cum?” She said, pounding your ass with her long fingers, two in deeply reaching your special places within. You couldn’t even form a word, barely a moan, just wet noises coming from your mouth and two holes. You’d swivel your pussy around the bulbous to feel more, almost filling yourself with it, but had enough sense to not do that just yet. Violet could feel and witness you clench from both ends, you were about to cum hard. Except, a certain pink haired jackass got wise and swiftly pulled out her fingers from your anus, which prompted you to stop teasing your cunt,

“Fuck you” you moaned, finally being able to regain some verbal access.

“I bet you would like that right now, huh?” She quipped back, a nefarious chuckled she let out, you’d let go of your black mamba and gave her a middle finger from between your legs, she’d make a cirlcle with her thumb and index finger pretending to fuck it.

“bet you’d like me to ride that”

“Well now I dunno what I want, both are pretty.. “ she slid her fingers in your ass again, trampolining her long fingers again, confusing your brain circuits, you’d let out another moan before speak.

“Fu—ckin’, good options..” you managed to reply, and then once again she removed those delectable fingers again, a huff coming out of you from her insistent teasing. You got up sitting on your forelegs before crawling toward her, straddling her, properly holding her shoulders for support. She helped you position yourself above the strap, and you leisurely lowered yourself, your heat swallowing halfway down on it.

“C’mon go lower” she begged pathetically, her eyes yearning to see it disappear in you.

“I.. it’s too big Violet.” (you were lying… lying like a damn slut) —She was sad to hear that, but that’s okay, she wouldn’t force you to take it, if you can only handle only a bit, then she’d make sure you’re comfortable first before anything.

“S’fine, go ahead do your thing, baby”

You were making such a mess, dripplets of your cunt would splash on her abs, your slick was soaking the strap. And you were sucking it in so good just not enough for Vi to fully see it disappear.. but you tried using her abs as a steady mount, except your slick was truly slippery. You lost your footing and accidentally dropping deep into her cock her eyes round as ever immediately concerned for you, catching you but not in time to undo any ‘damage’. You’d let out a feral moan, your arms shook as you reached for opposite sides of your face, you tilted your head upwards facing the ceiling. Your jaw slack, then closed, biting your bottom lip roughly.

“Baby you okay?” Violet asked, the round bulbous smooched your g-spot, and made you let out more carnal moans, gripping the sheets, bouncing up and down on it.

“Fuck…! “

“Fuckin knew you could take more— messing—aah- with my head like that“ She planted her feet on the bed, arching upwards holding you hips jerking her hips into you, helping the strap reach deep in your cervix, only plap, plap, plap bounced off the walls, until Vi broke the ongoing noises adding her own.

“You take my cock just fine” she’d tease.

“Yesh, whatever fuck.. mee”

“Don’t stop, mmm” you said, as your tits shook up and down, nipples looking so succulent.

“Holding out on me”

ᥫ᭡

The both of you were supported by thc, taking over to add on the high of carnaling hunger for each other, She takes another drag from the joint before speaking again, “You are so— fucking hot, damn” , putting it out on a near by ashtray on the night stand and placing it behind her ear, diving in to suck your tits once more.

You lift her head up by pulling her hair back, she whines from being ripped away from your pretty puffy nipples, you felt empty, needed fulfilling. It’s critical that you get some strap in your stomach again.

You felined your backside up to her like an animal in heat waiting for her to stick that plastic right down deep in your sticky core. Vi swiping her tongue on her bottom lip, seeing you spread your petals, dripping your ambrosia on your sheets, ruining them with a puddle. Before giving you what you want she needs to taste it again, crawling over to you, baiser avec la langue, deeply, her nose drown in your juices, tongue reaching your clit, swirling it around, moaning vibrations into your cunt, you’d went cross eyed from her long warm tongue. Giving you clit a good sucking, releasing it with a loud ‘pop’ before sliding the black strap against your dripping rose, needing to pluck that hungry hole, leaking sweet nectar. She slowly slipped in the girthy dick in you, bottoming out, hips managing to touch your plush arse. You instinctively bit down on your sheets, preparing for some lethal strokes. Her breath quivered, seeing you suck it in so easily, short circuit her brain for only a moment. She rubbed circles with both palms on your ass, admiring your plushness.

In her eyes you were radiant, even though the sun had fully set, the night sky taking over, she personally had the sun in her palms right now. Her hips moving back and forth, finding her rhythm, and you curving your butt back into her, matching her tempo. Soughs coming out of your tainted lips, bringing thrills in Violet's ears. Your folds holding her tightly, yet you still begged her to fuck you harder. “Fuck you harder? You're already clinging to me, baby..”

“Please?”

“Okay, if you start crying I’m gonna stop okay?”

“Mm.. sometimes I tear up when it’s so good.”

“Overstimulation turns me on..”

“Oh..”

Ohhh

“You didn’t mention that earlier..”

“Figured you’d think I’m weird..“

“No no, this is.. great news”

“Now I don’t have to hold back” she said as readjusted herself on the bed.. tame, now unlocking a primal beast out of her cage…

“Gonna fuck you for real now.. kay?”

“For real?” You repeat confused by the statement..Vi pulled your legs closer, stretching her upper body over you, setting her hands down into your mattress, one palm over the over, you were confused with this position, never had done this before, I mean being folded isn’t new to you but this is odd. But as soon as she started snapping her hips into you, you didn’t even care. You were too busy sinking into the bed while she thrusted deep inside of you feeling your brain go to mush.

“Sho—ah-much— sho— dee- aah!” You said barely being able to form coherent words, even swallowing was hard, it was as if the harder her hips snapped into you the more pressure reached your cervix, somehow feeling like it was reaching your throat.

“Oh fuck.. my neck.. red, RED, Vi red” you yelped out, as much as it felt good it was just too much for your neck that is. Thank goodness for the safe word. She immediately stopped when she heard your yelp, helping you get up from the pose, inspecting your body first, worried eyes scanning over you.

“shit— I’m so sorry.” You rubbed your neck, tending to the pained area, “It’s s’okay, if we’re gonna do that I need to focus on more yoga, ‘kay?” You tell her, seeing her worried eyes gave you an ache in your heart, giving her a quick kiss trying to show that it really is okay. Just happy she listened to you, trusting her even more for respecting your consent, respecting the safe word.. just being concerned for your well being and mind.

“Still wanna continue?” You ask, and she nodded.

ᥫ᭡

You’ve been sucking on her your strap for a good minute, you wanted her to forget about her tiny mistake.You’d lather your spit on the strap, tasting yourself on it, Vi cupped your cheek in her hand, thumbing where you’d stuff the strap in.

“You ready?” She asked,you let out a gargled mhm, plopping the bulbous out of your mouth to turn your body around for her. She grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, reaching for your jaw and held up your face.

“You okay?” She asked one more time still feeling guilty for hurting your neck earlier, moving you closer to her face, kissing your neck, “Mhm..” she slipped in the lubed up strap in your heat real slow, her pace gentle and slow, still filling you up in all the right ways. Gathering up a ball of spit to drip down, the warmth of her spit hitting your cunt as she thrusted. She bottomed out over and over again for you, her metre pulsating your bud of nerves. Your slick reached down her muscular thighs, sweltering fluids felt so good, melting her brain with how the black strap would vanish within you.

“Vi?, Violet please” you’d pleaded, you wanted her to give you the backshots like before, it’s better in this position, your neck not in danger, wanting her to give her those carnal strokes made your cunt cling onto her more, and the way you begged for her right now, her ears were buzzing— red as ever.

“I love it when you say my name like that, keep calling out to me.” you grunted at her not easily obeying, but who cares you may be the bottom but it doesn’t mean you can’t be a dom right now.

“Let me hear you beg for it.. Lanes” Vi, whined that you wouldn’t let her have the upper hand, but whined even more that she did feel the need to beg instead, regardless of her being the one in control, you still had her on a silver leash.

“Please please baby, please say my name like that again” she sobbed,

“Mhm, -aah- good girl!..” you praised her and she was like a dog in heat, so so happy to hear you praise her while she fucked you all slow.

“Violet, it’s so big, mmmf —I need more of you, Violet, please— fuck me harder, Violet”

“Fuck…”. She just couldn’t keep you at bay from her strokes, in so she starts drilling into you.

“Oh fuck, yeah! Break me baby, break me.!” You moaned as your ass recoiled back into her hips, such a soft nice round ass, piercings glistening from the moon light.

“Say it again” she demanded, grunting through her teeth.

“Break me, Violet”

“Shit—-take it, take it, take it, fucking take it”

Digging in your gushy cunt, another thrust and it angled in a way for Vi to feel it touch her clit, her moans were animalistic, right through her teeth hissing, “yesh,yesh,yesh,,yesh” she repeated as she beat it into you and to herself.

“Oh gods—-aah— haah-, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” you let yelled out,

“cum with me baby, cum with me” She moaned, grunting in your ear, as the strap kissed your g-spot again, another few deep visceral strokes, and you were done in, and so was Vi, both of you falling into the bed, legs squirming, Vi lazily still trying to ride out her orgasm, pumping into you on your side.

ᥫ᭡

Tissues, water bottles, and an empty bottle of lube, surrounded the both of you, your leg was over her shoulder, her abs glistened, your forehead dripping in sweat. You gave her a hair claw clamp since her hair kept falling in her face, she was irritated about it, felt like it was cramping her style, and you’d laugh at her protest, but she listened regardless of it ‘ruining’ her style.

“Baby, are you tired?” She asked, seeing you glow under her, sweat covered the both of you, going at it for so long, till twilight, you were completely enamored by her. Her tenacity to keep up with you, her perfect hair, her perfect nose, her body sculpted by hard work, her libido was just a plus, and her personality.. everything had you hooked.

“No, I can keep going” you answered, gulping down some spit that built up from how good she’s fucked you up in this postion.

“You sure?” She said slowing down her strokes, unsure if you’re just saying that. ‘Mhm’, you said again, giving her a lazy smile, the strands of your hair sticking to the sides of your face, sweat in your brows, and all you can hear, plap, plap, plap, reverberating between you, after confirming you really are good to keep going.

“I’ll spoil you until you’re satisfied, cupcake,” she stated, teasing your nipple between her index finger and thumb.

“O-okay— haah-”

ᥫ᭡

A few more good quick deep strokes kissing your cervix and the both of climaxing once more.. finally caput, she fell down next to you from exhaustion, arm over you, her hand pressing into your sweat glistening stomach, pulling you into her also sweaty body. “Damn..”

“Damn indeed, why the fuck did we do that?” tiredly, panting hard, as so did she.

“Horny..” she replied,

“Oh yeah..” you, sprawled your leg over hers, and she lifting her knee to your warm slit, just wanting to keep it close to her.

“Dummy” she taunted, kissing your shoulder tenderly, a smile crept up your face, relaxing into her touch. “Not dumb just gay”

“Mhm” You both laid there still panting, you touched yourself, your body jerking hard into her body.

“Fuck, lanes— you ruined me..” You claimed looking at your slicked fingers she gave you an mhm and kissed the back of your neck.

“Was I worth the wait?”

“No, obviously I hated this entire thing, all of it fake, even this cum in my hand is fake” She tapped your face in protest.

“Yeah.. you—you really were worth it, Vi”

“Thought so”

You both took a well needed nap curled up to each other.

ᥫ᭡

Birds chirped, already awoke, sharing a nice chat, well deserved cuddle. You laid in her arms, still naked with each other, kissing her cheek with plenty of energy

“Awe you’re so shweet” She complimented you, as you tip toed your fingers up and down her stomach, and she rubbing spheres around your shoulder, sometimes her name, short, or long.

“Fuckin’ love these cheeks, mmf” you kiss again and again, to just peppering her with kiss and she just lets out sugary giggles from your insistent kissing.

“Oh, you like me very much, huh”

"Lanes, I like you so much I might have to whisper to the stars about it" She climbed on top of you, admiring your astonishing eyes, your messy hair, you were absolutely adorable, " You'd whisper to the stars for me?" Your neck, face, ears all becoming inflamed with a non-stop of a lovely heart shaped inferno burning for none other than Violet Lanes. " Is that okay?" you asked, tucking a hair behind her ear, a sharp breath she took, latching her lip against her K9's, nodding eagerly. You'd pull her in for another sweet kiss, little giggles twirling in soft plush lips, that seem to have taken quite the fondness between these two, and so have your lèvre, frenching— so vigorously on that coffee table, wanting to kiss just as much as the lips from above~

ᥫ᭡

Now both in the tub sharing it, you both showered, cleaned each other, deciding together you both should take a hot bath for your legs. You sat in the warm comforting water, cupping water in your hand to pour it on her pretty breast. Watching the water run off the tips of her nipples. You were between her legs, made an excuse to be there so you could do this.

Violet's eyes caressed you with wonder, mapping put your face, it glowed, and better had glowed after the kind of stress reducing fuck you both had. She had this thought in her mind thinking, what if I shared baths with her for the rest of my life? Wondering, what you and her futures could be like, wondering if your wrinkles could be the signs all she needs to know she’d be your best wife. She wants to see the skin that makes your eyes squint, get crows feet, not from crying but from the years that went by that she managed to have you smiling. The life that you deserve to have instead of having only moments with others. A lifetime of lifelines that connected you both again and again.

“So.. “ you trailed off, not knowing where these words would land.

“Violet lanes.. I..”

“Do you wanna go out with me?” She asks instead.

“Ughh, I was so ready!” Her face matching her hair, she didn’t even think you were about to say that! She thought she was just a quick fuck.. well long fuck.. for the day and be casted aside since well— she figured she ruined everything by stepping over this line.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry you can say it!”

“Nooo, I can’t “ you groaned, you placed your palm on your face, hiding your nose, and averting your gaze from hers as heat rises to your neck. It tickled her heart strings seeing you so bashful.. She wanted to ask you how long did you wait to say that? But it’ll have to wait another day.

“No no go ahead please,” she insisted, her arms lifting from the water reaching out for you, but you wouldn’t budge your hand from your face, she gave up, huffing out a chuckle.

You took a deep breath, removing your hand and into the water splashing, balling your fist. You gave her a serious yet not serious look. “Okay, Violet— uh, lanes.. will you go out with me?”

“Yes!”

“Okay!” You also shouted with joy. You put both of your hands hiding your awkward smile “fuck, now what?” A muffled sentence leaving your lips.

“I dunno, we’re girlfriends now, we can think about that later”

“Ah, my gosh you said it!”

“I should be asking you for your hand in marriage after all of that”, she murmured under her breath.

“Huh” before you could ask another question she stopped you with a kiss, a soft, pink cloud of a kiss, quirking your lips into a candied smile.

“Nothing— I. We worry about it later. But for now, you’re mine and I’m yours”

You bit your lip ..” ’kay..”

Vi had stayed another night with you, couldn’t leave you after basically fucking you out of comission.. Alas she has a life! She wanted to stay longer but it was time to pick up Isha from school. She's in middle school now, top of her class, thanks to Ekko, and Jinx chiming in with the best ways to teach her. It gave Vander a break from working so hard at the bar. It was morning time and right before she left she made you a cup of tea.

You were sleeping, hair sprawled out on the pillow, drool dripping from your mouth. Vi pressed a hot mug up to your cheek, a soft groan coming out of you.

“Feeling stupid for fucking for so long? Hm?“ she taunted, your eyes full of sleep, still happy to see your girlfriend, fuck.. that’s your girlfriend now. You finally have a girlfriend, and its Miss lanes herself.. you wanted to scream it out to Zaun, that is yours and you belong to her.

“Yeah, I still can’t feel my legs..” you complained, rubbing your plush thigh. Vi took a seat next to you on your bed, freshly cleaned sheets, that were potent with Jamila.

“Yeah that's what happens when you like pussy— well for you. I never done.. anything like that, nor for that long.. I mean sheesh” She confessed, shaking her head, and trying her best not drool a reminiscent memory of how your piercings looked, and your sexy ass ricocheting against her-

“Til night til dawn..” you said, interrupting her thoughts.

“That’s how it is, the usual” you continued, she whipped her head back to you.

“We’re going to be doing that often???” She asked her eyebrows making wrinkles on her forehead. You wanted to press those, but you could barely get up.

“No.”

“We did that cause we’re new to each other, it was intense.. and.— we got carried away.”

“You regret—“

“No! Hell no. I meant we were going at it like animals”

“I did mention.. I fuck like one so— you were warned.”

“And you’re not so bad yourself” she continued,

“Whats in the tea?”

“Eucalyptus fruit.. and goji berries. Help you regain some energy”

“Awe thank you babe” you took the warm mug in your hand, warmth embracing your fingers, taking a long sip from it, she even made sure it wasn’t too hot for you. You wanted to fucking kick your feet and holler.

ᥫ᭡

However the morning lesbianism was interrupted, her taking her leave. You had your black silk robe on, some cute pink slippers she got you last Christmas, walking her to the car. She told you to stay in bed and recover but you refused. Like the stubborn person you are. She was up against her door, as you gave her another kiss before she left to get isha.

Lips colliding, soft murmurs of saying like you so much, both of you scared to even say ‘I love you’ just yet. Peppering more kisses on her neck, to her face, and back to her lips. She’d hold your waist, pulling you in a tight embrace, your tulip quivered at the memory from her hugging you last time. “Uh-uh, we’re not going back upstairs,” she comment, yet she’s the one lifting her leg up between your legs, “you do realize I have my robe on right? Not worried if it hikes up?”

“Oh I know it’s not hiking up”, she embraced you closer taking a peek over you, sighing relief that it really isn’t. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“I know.. gonna miss you”

“I could tell Jinx to-“

“Oh hell no, last time she came back with Isha, she had gave her fireworks to take to school, and you know, Isha did not give one flying fuck, about setting those off”

“Yeah…” she scratched the back of her head.

“Shit was cool though” you smacked her shoulder, barely doing anything, yet she acted as if she was in pain, quick to aid her she, grabbed you, twirling you around in the parking lot, both of you laughing, sinking into each other, you gave her another kiss. She set you down, her warmth lingering on you as the embrace came to a cease. A pout was bitten back by yourself, not wanting her to see you unfortunately ( in vi's opinion this is very fortunate) attachment to her, more than you were, those silly teasings, banter with tension... not anymore will she or won't she but definitely ᥫ᭡ . Before walking back up to your apartment, she kissed your temple, holding your neck, forehead touching yours, her signature move to silently tell you I love you. But of course, this woman of so much confidence didn't say it.. she couldn't too scared it was too soon or too late.. overthinking to the brim of her bright mind. The same problem befallen you, thinking Violet is too cool for just an I love you.. or thinking you can't just say that and you literally missed several things to do before saying. A date? when, meeting family, yes, already been between her legs and several other crevices that you oh so ravished, hell yeah, a proper date should be when you both feel like it.. Right? Maybe? Or will this be another long standing awaited line.. you've known Violet for 5 years, 2 as professionalism, the rest was history. Turned into unfolding legacies of stories to, tell one day.. one day to whomever for the girl you didn't even think would go as far as a kiss. Not to mention you hate kissing.. But for Violet.. your heart beat to her raw and powerful songs, no matter how different it beat, and so did hers. Violet's blues followed your trial of a walk, biting her knuckle to stifle a snicker at your attempt by yourself without her help... At least no one could say she didn't give you a good time. Sighing to herself, tapping her foot with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see you again. Ending the day with you on a high note.

A/n: Hello, hello there, this is my first like seriously detailed one shot. And first erm.. adult adventure literature! I hope you had a nice time don’t forget to be drink water, and (if you’re a weed connoisseur.. make sure you take a hit for me too! ❤️‍🔥🍃) thank you! Mwah 💋

Tags: @swaggycunts-blog and @theoreticalfreak thank you for asking to be tagged! <3

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nanamiskentos · 4 months ago

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pick your love story °🍵⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jujutsu kaisen edition (sfw)

gojo satoru ☆ childhood friends to lovers

loves to tease you, and he'll always poke your cheek, ruffle your hair, or steal your food just to get a reaction. if you're shy or quiet, he lives to make you flustered. buys the most ridiculous gifts, including matching sunglasses and designer items that cost more than your rent. acts like your personal heater, always draping himself over you, wrapping his long arms around your shoulders, or sneaking his hands under your sweater to press them against your skin. if someone flirts with you? well, he's throwing him arm around you so dramatically, calling you his 'beloved' in the most obnoxious way possible. if the person doesn't back off, his carefree tone disappears and he gives them a chilling smile. loves late night drives and cafe dates, he's so the type to blast music in the car and sing off-key on purpose, always laughs when you tell him to zip it. his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and he needs to be touching you at all times, and he constantly reminds you how much he loves you in different playful and heartfelt ways <3 he's even softer when he's sleepy, nuzzling into your neck and shit, voice always dropping to a quiet murmur as he spills whatever's on his mind.

geto suguru ☆ best friends to lovers

pretty chill, protective and a faux deep thinker type of guy. gentle and attentive, always knowing what you need before you even ask. if had a rough day, he's gonna run you a bath and try to get your favourite drink. tries to sit still and listen patiently while you rant. lowkey a bit overzealous when it comes to jealousy, but never petty. he doesn't get outwardly possessive. but if someone flirts with you, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and give the person a pretty sharp look, enough that they'll back off and shit. always takes pictures of you, and he has an entire album of random shots of you reading, laughing or even just existing bc he really does think you look beautiful in every moment. loves bookstore and vinyl shop dates, and he enjoys those sweet peaceful moments with you (flipping through books, aka arguing about different genres). he's super big on quality time + acts of service, and if he sees you struggling with anything, he'll try to take care of it before you even have to ask. loves running his fingers through your hair, and he claims it calms him, and sometimes he just gets so lost in thought while doing it, that you have to snap him out of it. he's the type to whisper sweet things in your ear absentmindedly, like 'you have no idea how much i love you' when he thinks you're not paying attention. goes all red and dismissive when he realises you actually did hear that :D and he says he's not in gossip and drama but no one talks shit like he does, lets be real

ryomen sukuna ☆ prob sum weird enemies to lover shit

claims he doesn't date, but somehow ends up trying to figure out your favourite flower. calls you stupid shit like 'brat' or 'pet' more than your actual name, but if someone disrespects you, he tears them apart without hesitation. gets jealous easily, but he won't admit it, and if someone looks at you wrong, he'll grab your chin and kiss you (not that you mind <3) his love language is physical touch and dominance, expect him to always keep a hand on your waist, neck or chin because as much as he pretends otherwise, he loves feeling your skin against his. gaslights you over silly things for fun ('i literally told you that' 'no you didn't' 'oh, so you're forgetful now). also whispers absolute nonsense in your ear just from time to time, 'did you know that octopuses have three hearts? bet you didn't, but now you do. you're welcome'). will open a jar way too aggressively to try and show off his strength but breaks it, and now you're left with no pickles and a sulking sukuna with pickle juice on his hand. carries you like a sack of potatoes on his shoulders if you piss him off. pretends he doesn't gaf, but always shares his food with you and tries to order what you like.

toji fushiguro ☆ reluctant friends to lovers

grumpy but soft for you typa boyfriend who doesn't believe in using full words in texts. only texts in 'ya' or 'nah' and he accidentally replied 'k' to you saying 'i love you' and he called you immediately afterwards because he knows he messed up. loves pda but in the most lazy way possible, and will always drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and refuse to move. always steals bites of your food (half the meal) but will act offended if you do the same. once won you a stuffed animal at a carnival and acted like it was no big deal, but he actually used up all his carnival tickets trying to win you the biggest prize. spoils you in a reckless way, and he'll hand you a wad of cash and refuses to tell you how he got the money. he just tells you to go buy something nice. love language is acts of service and physical touch because he claims he's not amazing with words, but his hands always find their way back home to you. loves lazy mornings, and grumbles when you try to get out of bed, pulling you back in with an arm around your waist.

nanami kento ☆ love at first sight

exhausted but devoted you get me, and he claims that you energise him and light up his life. lectures you when you only sleep for three hours a night. replies to the tiktoks you send with corporate replies 'that was humorous. thank you for sharing. i love you.' he thinks you're absolutely the most beautiful person on the planet, and always lets you know. pretty gentle, mature and devoted. shows his love in sweet, meaningful ways. always puts your comfort first, and he tries to take things off your plate without asking. loves cooking for you, and believes cooking is its own love language. hates unnecessary, brash pda but loves quiet intimacy. holds your hand, brushes your hair against your ear. lingering kisses on your temple. reads to you at night, and he'll sit beside you if you have trouble drifting off. his love language is absolutely acts of service and quality time, and he doesn't just say he loves you, he'll prove it in every little action of his. loves taking you out to scenic parks and hikes, and just stares after you with so much love as he tries to adjust the focus of his camera lenses to try and capture you as well as he can.

choso kamo ☆ strangers to lovers

kinda awkward but genuinely, really quiet sweet. overthinks everything, and at the start of your relationship, he even started overthinking how you said 'goodnight!' and wondered if you were mad at him, because there was no heart or emoji. would die before making the first move idk, like you're going to have kiss him first or else, otherwise i fear he's going to have a stroke. holds grudges as long as he can, and will bring up little shit (like you stealing his lunch) six months later 'remember that time you betrayed me?'. but he can only really give you the silent treatment for two whole minutes when you tease him, and then immediately apologises because he feels bad. a lot of friends tease the two of you because they think choso is too quiet or a pushover but the truth is that he's actually pretty snarky, clever and observant. very determined and always sticks to his morals, even at times when you disagree with him, he's able to put his foot down. love language is quality time and gift giving, because he's the type to remember everything you like and surprise him with it. loves watching movies with you, and pretends not to care for 90s chick flicks, but he's digging them deep down. loves holding your hand, and even in public, he'll reach for you quietly.

higuruma hiromi☆ coworkers to lovers

overworked but loves you so bad. he sometimes reminds you of a tired, single dad but he's truly joyous to date. if you call him baby in public, he immediately malfunctions and blushes. you once kissed him in a courtroom (not even when court was ongoing!) on the tip of his gorgeous nose, and he almost choked. will 100% object to random things just to irritate you, with topics like takeout for dinner, 'objection. we had sushi two days ago.' takes everything pretty seriously, until you do something cute. then he just sits there, hiding his smile behind his hand like an adorable anime protagonist. tries to be strict or protective, but you just make him super soft. secretly likes pda but pretends that he doesn't. grips your hand so tight like he fears you might disappear. loves when you rest in his lap or against his chest as he reads over cases and paperwork. you told him that he'd look hot with glasses, and you caught him browsing through lens frames.

naoya zenin ☆ arranged marriage (kinda ooc naoya btw, bear with me)

sort of a menace who should have been left on read a long time ago, but this wasn't your first choice. somehow, he folds for you almost immediately but you think he'd rather dig his own grave and neatly fold his hands over his chest as he buries himself at his own funeral before he admits that he likes you. calls you annoying but will drop everything if you text him that you need help. always saying dumb shit to you, or trying to make fun of you, but if someone else does? they're gone, like he's going to stalk them, find where they work, and get them fired from their job. texts you the stupidest things like 'if i was ugly, would you still love me?' 'i just saw an ugly baby. damn' 'what would do if i got arrested? be honest.' saw someone flirting with you once at like a fancy event, and rolled his eyes, pretending that he didn't give a flying fuck. ended up at the bathroom mirror, gripping the sink and trying not to throw up. if you ignore his texts, he's gonna send vaguely ominous messages, like 'answer me' followed by 'this is how it ends?' 'i'm leaving btw, i'm going to pack up and leave you forever and go live on my own in the wild.' you check his location and he's still at home. naoya thinks he's the prize in the relationship, he's not. definitely a pda menace, and he loves just kissing you in public.

hajime kashimo ☆ enemies to lovers but in that 'we met when we were fighting' way

your relationship is just him being reckless with no survival instinct, and you trying to keep your boyfriend alive. aka trying to stop him from licking the power outlet. will randomly challenge you to fights for no reason, never mind the fact that he'll feel bad and back out at the last minute. has no concept of personal space, and will stand nose to nose with you just to make you uncomfortable. if you back away, he's gonna follow you and ask where you're going. if someone flirts with you, he's not even going to do too much, just laugh in their face and ask the offender if they really thought they had a chance. kashimo has no concept of an inside voice at all, so god forbid you try to take him somewhere quiet. energy level always at 200% and it's a mission to even take him someplace like a grocery store. if you said 'i love you' first, it might have been the only time that someone else has bested him in something. hajime physically can't process emotions and goes green and pale (he loves you so much btw) and he looks vaguely ill at your confession. stares for five minutes before throwing himself at you. definitely a words of affirmation type of guy, instead of actions, because sometimes, he's all bark and no bite.

noritoshi kamo ☆ sweet, rom-com crush

he's actually a bit traditional, but very sweet. unfortunately, he's also so formal that it hurts sometimes. but it's fun when he asks you things like 'would you like to accompany me for an evening meal?' or 'shall we go for a stroll?' if you hold his hand, for the first few months, he sweats profusely but acts as though he's totally cool (narrator: he was not cool). lowkey believes that he doesn't deserve you and he absolutely treats you, the love of his life, like royalty. super observant and determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so you're never really left wanting for anything. if someone flirts with you, he doesn't really get jealous, but rather gets philosophical. 'it is natural for others to admire beauty such as yours. however, they must know it's not theirs to claim.' a key forefront runner of the sassy men apocalypse, even though you wouldn't be able to tell at the start. super quick-witted, but he's the type to keep his thoughts to himself, but luckily, he gets more comfortable sharing his jokes with you as times go on. blushes super easily, and he hates it because he thinks it ruins his aloof/mysterious guy persona.

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rinskazuu · 7 months ago

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pretty like you, pretty pink heaven ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ the jjk men comparing your beauty to flowers (you're too beautiful)

characters. ꨄ︎ fem!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, itadori, megumi, inumaki, yuta (separate)

cw. ꨄ︎ fluff, pet names, talks of violence (sukuna), crack, gen alpha lang used in inumaki's, swearing

notes. ꨄ︎ this is 100% an excuse to tell u to stream flying kiss by nct dream. i've been looping it since its release

♪ song used. ꨄ︎ flying kiss by nct dream

end notes. ꨄ︎ guys i fr don't know how to use gen alpha language, i literally just wrote whatever i knew and called it a day

reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated! <3

jjk masterlist | general masterlist

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ittybittyfanblog · 4 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 10

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, family issues, generational trauma, self-growth, personal issues (and dealing with it), hurt and comfort, hmmmm…. let’s leave it at that for now :) A/N: Final chapter, guys! Thanks so much for reading <3

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Oh, what the hell—since when do you cook?”

“Bitch,” you laugh, nudging past them, the ceramic pot still steaming in your hands. “Do you want the risotto or not?”

The scent of garlic and pecorino permeates the air as you stand in front of the small foyer of the duplex where your friend—questionable, at the moment—lives. Your most recent culinary masterpiece, deemed safe (enough) for public consumption, rests between your hands in silent offering to the skeptic figure who’s barring you from crossing the threshold.

It’s still warm, and you’re not one to brag, but you think you’ve outdone yourself with this one. Not that it matters—everybody’s a fucking critic these days.

“Risotto?” Khol parrots in disbelief. “You don’t show up in forever, suddenly you’re all cuoca straordinario or some shit. Get out of here with your Mario ass–”

“Don’t mind them,” Anna interjects from behind your biggest hater, all cheer as she plucks the pot from your hands. “This smells amazing, actually. Come in!”

With that, she vanishes inside, leaving you and Khol alone in the doorway. You give them a knowing look.

“Oh wow,” you remark, all mock surprise. “You live together now?”

Khol rolls their eyes, already tired of you. “You missed the biggest arc of the last five months, but yeah.”

You step inside, and right away, something feels… different. It could partly be due to how much time has passed since you last visited, and it’s clearly still their place—the brooding industrial-emo aesthetic remains intact, still suspiciously close to resembling the lair of an angsty comic book antihero on acid—but it’s been overtaken by bits of boho-chic scattered all over the space.

Where there was once nothing but charcoal, vinyl, and concrete, there are now textures. Colorful woven throws drape artfully over the arm of the leather Eames sofa they won off a Craigslist bid. Tasseled pillows have multiplied across every seat surface like some kind of fabric-based contagion, while pothos vines dangle lazily from macramé hangers, stretching towards the moody Edison bulbs like they’re trying to escape the existential crisis of living here.

And then there’s the rug. Oh god, the rug.

A comically massive tufted ‘Flower Power’ rug sprawls across the center of the room, a swirling explosion of pinks and oranges—a final, cutesy fuck you to the apartment’s formerly depressing atmosphere before Khol’s new roommate staged her cheerful coup.

It should’ve been a hilarious sight, like a chaotic school art project where every kid picked a different medium to color and refused to compromise. But somehow… it works?

Against all odds, the goth cryptid and the hippie gremlin have found domestic equilibrium.

“Love what you did with the place, Anna,” you call out, toeing off your shoes at the door. “It doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old’s fantasy bedroom anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Khol laughs, shaking their head. “As if you’re one to talk. Last time I visited, you still had that stupid-ass sofa. Is it still there?”

You sniff haughtily. “Excuse you, but that’s a custom piece. You wouldn’t get it.”

"Alright, you two," Anna says, leaning against the archway between the living room and kitchen, one hip propped against the frame. "Both of you have terrible taste in decor. Now, I have a fabulous Prosecco to pair with the risotto." She tilts her head, shooting her partner a pointed look. "Khol, darling, be a dear and grab the crystal from the cupboard?"

"Whipped," you sing as Khol, predictably, does exactly as told. They don’t even bother with a comeback, just flashes you a lazy middle finger over their shoulder as they disappear from view.

You grin, shaking your head. The moment stretches into something easy, comfortable. It’s nice—being here, bantering like no time has passed. You let yourself sink into it, tugging off your beanie as you cross the room.

The creaky couch welcomes you like an old friend, and you flop down unceremoniously, stretching your legs out, rubbing your feet against the oversized monstrosity of a rug that is... honestly, pretty fucking comfortable, actually.

Anna follows suit, settling beside you with far more grace, tucking one foot under the other.

She watches you for a moment, expression warm but slightly inquisitive. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

You exhale, tipping your head back, staring up at the beams on the ceiling. "Yeah, sorry. Been a little out of it these past… couple of months, I guess."

Anna makes a quiet noise, something between understanding and acknowledgment. "You’re doing okay now?"

The easy answer sits on your tongue—yeah, of course. An automatic response, a reflex built from habit. Another front to put up, another lie to slip behind.

But you’ve been working on this. So instead, you take a breath and say,

"Not… really."

The words feel foreign, heavy, but oddly freeing as they leave your mouth.

Your gaze flickers to the side table; framed photos of Khol and Anna, smiling, sunlit. You don’t linger.

“I mean, better now compared to, maybe, a few weeks ago. I’m getting there.”

Anna’s brows lift slightly – not in surprise at the sentiment itself, but at the fact that you admitted it out loud. There’s something thoughtful in her expression, something softer around the edges. “Good. That’s good.”

You can tell she means it. Maybe even more than you expected.

"Yeah."

There’s a brief lull. You catch yourself tugging at the edge of your cardigan—a nervous habit you never quite broke. The warmth of the apartment is settling in you quite comfortably, but there’s something about sitting still under Anna’s gentle scrutiny that makes you restless.

From the kitchen, there’s the unmistakable clink of glass, followed by a muffled, “shit.”

Anna exhales, long-suffering. “I don’t know why I even bother buying nice things.”

“‘Oy,” Khol’s voice carries from the other room, “get in here and help. We have, like, seven things to carry.”

You take that as your cue, trailing after Anna into the kitchen. Between the three of you, it’s quick work—bowls of warm, brothy risotto in hand, glasses of white wine balanced carefully between fingers.

By the time you step back into the living room, Khol is already dropping onto the blue accent chair near the window with all the dramatics of someone who’s worked far too hard for far too little.

You settle into your usual spot, Anna beside you. You don’t touch your food. Your appetite’s still in remission, though it’s been steadily improving lately.

Khol notices. “Now, why the hell aren’t you eating?” They shoot you a side-eye like you’ve personally offended them. “I knew it. You put something in this, didn’t you?”

“Jesus, Khol,” Anna sighs, exasperated, already two spoonfuls in. “Your diet was literally gas station burritos and eight-pack Coors before I moved in. You’ll live.”

She pauses, though, casting you a look. “Don’t get me wrong—this is really good.”

“Ha,” you retort as Khol prods suspiciously at a floating mushroom. You glare. “Are you fucking kidding me–”

“Alright, alright.” With an exaggerated sigh, Khol finally takes a bite. They chew once, twice—eyes narrowed in concentration, acting like some hard-ass seasoned judge from Top Chef. You can practically see them digging for something snarky to say... until, begrudgingly, they nod.

“Shit. This is actually pretty good. Who are you?”

You preen at the praise.

For a while, there’s nothing but the quiet clinking of spoons against ceramic, the occasional satisfied hum. It’s… nice. Comfortable in a way you haven’t felt in what feels like forever.

You’ve missed this.

Missed being here. Missed being with people.

Somewhere between the second glass of wine and the last few bites of risotto, Khol angles their head toward you, their curiosity piqued. “How come you’re free today? You on leave or something?”

You swirl the drink in your hand, watching the light catch on the amber surface before answering. “Oh, I quit my job.”

There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know what reaction you were expecting, but Khol just blinks at you. "Huh. Finally."

Anna looks mildly more concerned. "You quit?"

You nod, stretching your legs out beneath the coffee table. “Yeah. The OT was getting ridiculous, and they had me working night shifts again. That was kind of the last straw for me.”

Khol grunts in agreement. “Good fucking riddance. That job was killing you.” They pause for a beat, turning serious, contemplative. “You’re not hung up about it, are you? You’ve been bitching about that job for ages.”

You exhale through your nose, staring at the rim of your glass. “Yeah, no. I’m glad I left.” The words come easily, and they’re mostly true. But still—there’s something about suddenly having all this space, this aimless in-between, that makes you antsy.

A thought strikes you, and you glance up. “Hey, you know if Marion's still looking for someone to work part-time at the bistro?”

Khol raises an eyebrow. "You looking to apply? It’s minimum wage, just telling you in advance."

"That’s fine," you assure them. "I just need something on the side. I’m doing freelance work right now, I just want something to fill in the gaps."

Anna perks up at that. "I think that’s a great idea. I can hit up Marion later, but I’m pretty sure they’re still looking."

Khol stares at you, and for once, they don’t have a quip lined up. No sharp-edged humor, no quick banter; just a quiet look of something almost foreign on their face. Pride. Maybe even relief. You’ve worried them. The realization jars you like a pebble dropped into a clear pond, sending ripples through the stillness of your self-imposed isolation. You hadn’t meant to, not really. It wasn’t like you deliberately wanted to disappear... But you did, didn’t you? You let the days blur into weeks, then months, telling yourself naively that no one would notice if you just, vanished for a while. Five months, to be exact.

You press your lips together, clearing your throat against the tightness creeping in. “Thanks,” you say, quiet but sincere. “Really.”

Khol snorts, and the moment shatters. “You can show your thanks by knocking ten percent off the cocktails when we visit.”

You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Get me the job first, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Anna grins, raising her glass. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

––––

You get the job.

You stand in front of the fogged-up mirror, dragging your palm across the wet glass. The reflection that stares back is warped, smudged—half-formed, half-there—but unequivocally yours.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have been able to say that with certainty. Back then, the figure in the mirror had been more ghost than person—distant, spectral. Fractured. Someone you watched from the outside, not as a host of the flesh you inhabit.

Now, though, the pieces are starting to slot back into place. Some are still missing, and others don’t quite fit as they once did. You doubt it will ever return to how it was… But slowly, a familiar shape is coming back into focus. More than the shadow of a woman, but you. Time moves like water carving through rock; gradual, barely perceptible, but steady. Inevitable.

The shifts are diminutive. A morning where you wake up feeling less crushed by the weight of grief in your chest. An afternoon where you suddenly break into laughter, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve heard it in weeks. A quiet night where you go to bed without feeling like you’re stuck frozen in an endless loop of wishing, waiting for the impossible.

You’re here, alive. Present. And for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you’re doing more than just holding on.

(You think he’d be proud of you.)

And the thought doesn’t leave you aching the way it used to.

––––

“You think I can handle taking care of another living thing? Like a plant?” You ask Maru, glancing at him lounging by the window, right where a sliver of afternoon sunlight spills across the floor. “I mean, I raised you well enough, I think. But you’re pretty self-sufficient anyway.” Maru looks unimpressed. His tail flicks once—dismissive, uninterested—before he returns to grooming himself, utterly indifferent to both your question and your sudden enthusiasm for gardening. “Well, if your dad can grow plants in that dungeon he calls a base, I’m sure I can manage,” you mutter unconvincingly. “How hard can it be?”

–

By the middle of the second week into your little project, you begrudgingly admit that your tiny repotted begonia isn’t exactly thriving. You don’t want to be a pessimist, but the (browning) margins seem to curl inward—more than they should, if the reference pics on that “Indoor Succulents” blog you’re subscribed to are anything to go by.

You eye it dubiously, trying to stay gung-ho about the whole thing, forcing yourself to look up care tips again. It’s just a plant. Not rocket science. So you do the research, gather more supplies, and give it another shot. You reposition it closer to where the sun lands—earning a disgruntled hiss from the sunbathing feline—and sprinkle a careful amount of water just beneath the leaves, closer to the root. Then you lean back, waiting, tapping your foot impatiently like it’s supposed to just... fix itself.

–

The next few days pass with you watching it more than you’d care to admit—checking, hoping, second-guessing yourself.

You narrow your eyes at the leaves, more russet than Inca Flame red, still hanging limp like a sad testament to your lack of skill.

But you keep at it, because you’re nothing if not stubborn.

–

A single flower has bloomed.

You stand there, spray bottle in hand, caught in quiet awe at the metallic pink sprout peeking through the foliage. It’s small, delicate, barely more than a bud, but unmistakably there—nestled among heart-shaped leaves that, for the first time in weeks, look alive. Brighter.

A faint smile tugs at your lips. It’s not groundbreaking, not by a long shot. But it’s something.

The fragile blossom clings onto dear life, stubbornly seeking the sun rays, inching toward the warmth it needs to grow—larger, stronger.

You can’t wait to bear witness to it.

––––

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up in this situation; all you could recall past the sweat blurring your vision is the memory of being in front of the reception desk, pen in hand, scrawling your name onto the sign-up sheet for beginner boxing lessons.

It’s not… something you planned on doing, really. You’d been showing up for the past week, trying to convince yourself that fitness was something you could get into. Something you could stick with. But this one’s more of an impulse decision, fueled by a mix of post-workout endorphins and the misplaced confidence that sometimes follows after an extra few—unpremeditated!—minutes on the elliptical.

It all started with a casual glance at a flyer taped to the wall beside the water dispenser.

GET TOUGHER, FASTER, STRONGER! SIGN UP NOW!

The cheesy tagline stared you down as you were in the middle of refilling your teal green AquaFlask. And for some dumb reason—sheer curiosity, definitely not because it reminded you of a certain someone—you thought: Why not?

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’d marched straight up to the nearest staff at the counter, credit card in hand, and asked to sign up. Now, as you stare at the buff woman currently goading you to hit harder, reality sets in and you feel a little lightheaded. Even slightly delirious.

“Up, up–” your trainer urges, somehow not even remotely out of breath, despite being thirty grueling minutes into the session. Meanwhile, you’re standing there, red-faced and sweating like a fucking pig. “Keep your arms up at all times, alright?”

You pant, nodding weakly, fixing your posture. She gives you an approving nod in return.

It’s part of the whole self-improvement thing, anyway. Pushing yourself. Fitness, jazz, and all that. You’ve never had much inclination for sports or anything remotely physically taxing, as far as you can recall.

…Or maybe that decision was made for you the moment you tried out for volleyball in high school and took a spike straight to the face. A memory so humiliating, that your brain did you a favor and buried it deep in the recesses of your mind.

But things are different now! You’re trying new things. You’ve done wall climbing, aerobics, even pulled a hamstring attempting HIIT Tae Bo. And if getting punched in the face is the next step in this… wellness journey, then, well, so be it. You’ll take it with a brave face and, hopefully, minimal bruising to both body and ego.

You slog through two sets of combos and thirty jab-straight-hook-uppercuts, punching like your life depends on it. You’re wheezing like an asthmatic child, and you’re about one bad punch away from toppling over.

Then, mercifully—

“Okay, that’s enough for today.”

Oh, thank god.

“You did good,” she tacks on, flashing you an encouraging smile, like you didn’t just spend the last half hour flailing at the focus mitts with all the grace of a wrecking ball.

You stare at her, unconvinced. Did I? Because from where you’re standing—wobbling, really—you’re pretty sure you looked closer to an overstimulated toddler throwing hands with gravity, but sure. It must’ve been in the fine print, to segue in a little positive reinforcement. Probably to keep people from bolting after the first session.

Not that you’re planning to. No, of course not. You’re just... reevaluating some things. Like your life choices. And your capacity to lift your arms tomorrow. As you trudge your way out of the yoga-studio-turned-boxing-area, still gulping for air and very aware of the soreness settling into your limbs, someone calls out.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You turn your head, blinking in confusion. A guy—mid to late twenties, give or take—jogs up to you, looking offensively too fresh compared to how you feel. “Oh, hi. Sorry, do you mean me?”

He laughs as he slows to a stop, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Yeah, you. I saw you training with Coach. Just wanted to say—you’re improving.”

You blink. Wait, what?

A wave of mortification rolls through you. Shit, you didn’t know you had an audience. “Uh—thanks, I guess?”

You shift your weight awkwardly, clutching your boxing gloves tightly against your chest.

His grin turns sheepish, as though he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Fuck, sorry. That came out weird, didn’t it? I swear, I wasn't, like, watching the whole thing or anything.” He makes a vague gesture to his left. “The studio’s right in my line of sight when I did my TRX reps. Hard not to notice.”

You force a smile. “Ah, yeah. Figures.”

“I’m Byron, by the way,” he offers, sticking out a hand.

Now that you get a proper look at him, you notice he’s got this kind of… geeky charm going for him. Curly hair, sleepy brown eyes behind round, rimless glasses, and shy boy-next-door vibes—except for the fact that he’s jacked.

(Honestly? Work.)

You give him your name, still smiling awkwardly. You’re about to wave goodbye and turn away when— “So, what are you doing later?”

Um.

You hesitate. “I’m, uh… heading straight home after this?” Your voice comes out a little more uncertain than you intended, mostly because you’re not really sure why he’s still talking to you.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replies quickly, glancing down like he’s suddenly nervous. “I just… thought I’d ask if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime?”

Oh.

It takes a moment for the question to fully register. The first thought that pops in your head is: Wait, how does he know I’m a barista?

… The second thought is one of pure disbelief. Holy shit, did I just get asked out? At the gym? By the Temu version of Peter Parker?

Your face burns hotter than it did mid-workout, caught completely off guard.

“I—woah, um.” You stumble over your words, eyes quickly darting away from him. “Sorry, I already have… a boyfriend. If—if that’s what you’re leading up to.”

You say it like a question. He picks up on it.

“You don’t sound too convinced,” he comments with a light chuckle, shaking his head. “If you’re not interested, you can just say that, you know.”

A prickle of irritation flares up, followed by something sharper—something that stings. You push it down. “No, he’s just… not around.” “Ah.” He clicks his tongue sympathetically. “Long distance?” “…Yeah.” You have no idea.

He shrugs, undeterred. “Alright, no pressure. We could always just hang out as friends, if you want.”

I… don’t think I do. “Um, maybe?” you answer instead, forcing out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he says, his grin widening. “You can even introduce me to your boyfriend,” he emphasizes the word out, “when he gets back. Does he work out? We could all hit the gym together.”

Social anxiety is afraid of this man, you think belatedly. Unfortunately for him, you’re the very embodiment of what fears him.

You’re so out of your element that all you can manage is, “He boxes too, actually.”

“Yeah? He any good?”

That gets an involuntary snort out of you. Unthinkingly, you say, “Could probably beat you up.”

Byron laughs, startled but amused, shaking his head as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—message received.” He flashes you a wide smile. “Well, if you change your mind about the coffee, I’ll be around.” He jerks his chin toward the pack fly by the corner. “There, usually.”

Okay, nerd. Despite yourself, you can’t help but find the whole thing slightly hilarious. Then again, you find humor in the dumbest things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You offer him a quick, half-hearted wave, trying (and failing) to mask your embarrassment with an exaggerated, too-casual show of nonchalance. It’s so painfully awkward, you can feel yourself internally dying from the cringe of it all.

Without another word, you spin on your heel and start speed-walking away, practically running back to the safety of your personal space.

Smooth.

––––

It’s another relatively easy night at the bistro. You’re on the last two hours of your shift, and you’re carrying a single glass of roseberry mule to serve at table four. As you round the corner, you catch sight of a student, glasses perched low on her nose, completely absorbed in a thick coursebook on Programming Languages. Papers are scattered across the table, and she looks to be utterly engrossed in her readings, unaware of the world around her.

You don’t want to bother her more than necessary, about to set the drink down on the only clear space—by the iPad propped up on a tablet holder to her right—when something red catches your attention.

A familiar pair of crimson eyes stops you dead in your tracks.

For a moment, you feel like you’re suspended in time. The sharp memory of a similar instance where you’re in her place, and he’s there, keeping you company while he’s polishing a gun burns through your brain, and you don’t–you can’t think—

You stand there, rooted to the spot, wide-eyed and unmoving. Then, the girl’s gaze shifts to you, and a hot flush spreads across her cheeks, betraying her surprise.

With swift fingers, she locks the screen with a quick flick on the power button, pulling you away and breaking you from the echoes of the past.

“Oh, shit,” she giggles, a nervous edge to her voice. “That’s embarrassing.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself back to the present moment. “No—no, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle weakly, setting the drink down beside her with shaky hands. “Cute guy, honestly.”

That makes her giggle louder, her eyes bright with an almost conspiratorial glint. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

Fuck—you can’t breathe.

––––

The night hangs thick with stifling heat, accompanied by the steady ticking of the clock as you catch your breath, your broken moans too loud in the heavy silence. The sheets cling to your feverish skin, damp and uncomfortable, as your body moves in a rhythm that feels unnatural now, but still—but always—familiar.

Your chest rises and falls in shallow, rapid breaths as you force the draconic toy deep inside you. The heat, the fire—it licks at your skin, making your whole body yearn for more. To chase more of the feeling, to chase more of the memory of him.

Errant strands of hair stick to your forehead, your chest flushed and burning, a quiet throb spreading through you with every friction, every desperate movement.

Your body aches, a relentless thrum urging you to push deeper, to find something—anything—to fill the gaping hole inside you, a wound you’ve tried to stitch shut over months, now threatening to tear its way open again, once more ripping from the seams.

A sharp pressure builds inside you. Your body stretches too far, too much, struggling to take in what it can’t quite handle. It burns in a way that hurts, but you need it. You need to feel more, to fill the emptiness, to grasp at something that feels real.

“Yours, yours–” you tremble, desperate. “Yours. Just yours. Please.”

You lie in the wake of it—pleasure fading into something heavier, regret creeping in like a shadow, waiting as always.

“I miss you,” you whisper in the dark. You always do.

You try to ignore the pull of it, the sharp descent that comes with the high.

You were doing so well.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Everything’s fine.

The words swirl and echo in your mind, until they’re swallowed by sounds that ring hollow. You let the moment wash over you, sinking beneath the weight of the tides, where sorrow and longing blur with the fleeting warmth of what you can’t keep.

Tomorrow will be another day. Another chance to try again.

For now, you let go of your grip on the fragile raft of sanity you’ve built, painstakingly, for months on end.

Tonight, you let yourself drown once more in the somber depths of loneliness and despair, confined within these four walls that feel—once more—like a penitentiary.

––––

The plane begins its slow descent, and through the window, the world comes into view—large swathes of land interrupted by winding roads that seem to follow no rhyme, nor pattern. A river glints faintly beneath the fading sun, while the sky turns a dull blue, a washed-out slate, streaked with the last embers of daylight.

Below, the small city stirs.

Tiny specks of color flicker to life, lanterns strung along the streets like beads on a thread, marking the season, an ending, and the inevitable turning of time. A chill hangs in the air, the wind whipping past you from the half-open window of the taxi, sharp and crisp in a way that you can only find in the province.

Your hometown.

It all rushes past in a blur of light and shadow, an eclectic mix of old and new—some buildings unchanged, others unfamiliar, as if they’d sprung up in the years you’ve been away. It’s been a while since you last came back, long enough for the roads to feel... foreign, almost. Though muscle memory stirs when the car takes a turn. One you could have easily navigated even with your eyes closed.

Only your sister lives here now, her and her family—a couple of hundred miles far. Far enough to feel like another world, yet close enough for the past to catch up the moment you lay eyes on the old two-story house tucked away on the quaint cul-de-sac of this suburban neighborhood.

The residential property was left to her, scrawled onto the title in an act of generosity, perhaps. Or maybe as a weight your mother never intended to carry, something meant to anchor her eldest child while she carved a different life for herself elsewhere. Free-spirited as she is, she left with the ease of someone shedding an old coat, slipping into the shoes of another, barely a glance over her shoulder.

But houses remember. And as you step out of the vehicle, your feet meeting the rough asphalt that once belonged to your childhood, you wonder if they remember you too.

"Maru, Maru!" Your five-year-old niece cries the moment she spots the grumpy feline peering through the mesh of his portable prison.

"What—no excitement for me too?" you tease, ruffling her hair. She giggles, scrunching up her nose.

"Auntie, hi! Hi!"

You snort at her enthusiasm, setting the carrier down. The second you pull at the zipper, Maru springs out, landing with a soft thud before stalking off with his usual air of disdain. Your niece shrieks with delight.

"Ah! Cat!"

"Well, there go the chances of her socializing with her brother," your sister remarks dryly from the doorway, sauntering closer. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey," you greet, hoisting a handful of paper bags. "Where do I dump these?"

She eyes the bags. "Any of those for me?"

"You have three kids, and one of them insisted on a Lego set. Do you know how much those cost?" You shoot her a flat look. "You’re getting socks."

"Wow, stingy." She huffs but takes some of the bags anyway, hitching one onto her hip as she grabs your other hand-carry.

You step inside, and the house greets you with a riot of lights and color. Plastic tinsel and bright string lights drape across every visible surface—along the bannister, around doorways—leaving no space untouched by the festive chaos. A Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, nearly buried beneath an avalanche of baubles and sentimental ornaments collected over the years.

The room feels swallowed by the exuberance of it all, an almost overwhelming jamboree of holiday cheer.

It’s gaudy, excessive, and completely over-the-top, but beneath it all, the bones of your childhood home remain unchanged—familiar in a way that settles deep in your chest. The Narra wood floors are still scuffed with the marks of time, there’s still the distinct tang of turpentine mixed with waxy resin and citrus you’ve long since associated with home, and the odd decorative masks still line the far wall, their painted expressions frozen in mid-celebration.

Your eyes land on the canvas floater above the mantel—a whimsical cross-stitch of three women flying kites, their stitched dresses rippling in imagined wind. You remember it well, though you never quite understood why your mother had chosen that particular scene to painstakingly sew into existence. Still, it belongs here, another piece of the house's patchwork history.

Your gaze shifts to the couch, where Andrew, your sister's husband, is sprawled out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest, the other holding his phone.

He flicks his gaze up at you, offering a half-hearted wave before turning back to whatever has him so absorbed on the screen. Beside him, your three-year-old nephew is perched on his knees, bouncing with energy as he mirrors Bluey's movements on the TV with exaggerated enthusiasm, his tiny arms flailing in childlike glee.

You sigh inwardly, rolling your eyes. Typical.

“There’s a few more hours before dinner. Want to hang out in the kitchen while I roast the ham?” She asks casually, setting down your bags by the foot of the stairs. “Actually, scratch that—you’re in charge of the punch.”

“You just want a head start on the drinks,” you tease, the banter flowing easily between you. “Hey, where’s the little squirt?”

She points toward the small crib, near the island counter. “She finally stopped crying, thank god. Don’t wake her up, or you’ll be the one in charge of putting her back to sleep.”

The two of you slip into the kitchen, where the air already carries the promise of dinner—cloves and brown sugar blending nicely with the lingering scent of citrus. A tray of ham sits on the counter, prepped and ready, the scored surface glistening under the fluorescent light.

Your sister pulls a bottle of Luisita Oro Rum and Agimat Gin from the second-to-last cupboard and places them on the counter in front of you.

"Go ham," she quips.

You give her a flat look. "You think you’re funny.”

She shrugs, unfazed, and turns her attention back to where she’d left off before your arrival.

The two of you fall into a natural rhythm, the kind that comes from years of cooking together. You work your way through cans of Del Monte, the metallic clinks filling the space as you drain the syrup and dump chunks of mixed fruit into the large punch bowl.

Your sister leans against the counter nearby, arms folded, her gaze fixed on the oven door, as if sheer willpower alone could make the meat cook faster.

In the background, the soft drone of the TV drifts in from the living room, punctuated by your nephew’s occasional giggles.

There’s no rush, no need to fill the silence with anything more than the occasional clang of utensils against glass and the low humming of kitchen appliances. The day is winding down to a close, and for now, everything is alright.

“So, Mom called,” she says casually, one arm braced on the counter as she leans in, glancing at you. “Kept calling, actually.”

“Mm.” You reply noncommittally, shaking the last can’s contents into the crystal bowl, watching as the fruit chunks bob lazily in the pool of alcohol.

“She’s worried about you.”

You don’t answer.

“She was. She is.” Her voice shifts, more serious now. She watches you closely, noting your lack of reaction. “You know that, right?”

Your fingers tighten around the can opener, but you pull your gaze away from the bowl. “I know.”

She sighs, resigned, already familiar with this song and dance. Familiar enough to know there’s no winning this one, not tonight. Not anytime soon. “I am too.”

You blink, before looking away. “Oh.”

And maybe she does worry—your mother. But any hope of truly knowing is swallowed by the chasm between you, the one that keeps your conversations at surface level, never breaching the depths beyond.

Your body, born from hers, perhaps more alike than you realize, might have been brought into this world with the same pains that she’s carried. The pains of separation. The unresolved hurt of being unwillingly removed from your person—her former husband, your father—and that if you and your mother were closer, you could have opened up about your own situation. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel like a ship that has lost its ballast, drifting endlessly in the same turbulent seas for the longest time.

But you are your mother’s daughter, and she is her mother’s daughter. There is the truth that the women in your family are not the best communicators, nor do they wear their hearts on their sleeves. So you were born mute and overly sensitive. Pain drips from you, unnoticed, like a purposeless leak in the heart. You’ll carry it with you until you die.

“But you look… okay,” she observes, cocking her head. “Are you okay?”

You swallow. For the same reason you compare your mother to a storm you can't outrun and your sister to an intermittent drizzle, you find it easier to admit, “I haven’t… been okay for a while.”

Not wanting to bring the mood down, especially on a day like today, you quickly add, “Things are better now, though.”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Could be a little more specific there, but I’ll take it.” She gives you an exasperatedly fond look. “You let me know if that changes anytime soon, ‘kay?”

Your lips quirk in the faintest semblance of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

–

It’s ten minutes before midnight.

You’re leaning against the island counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, nursing a glass of the fruit punch (though it’s mostly gin, with the teensiest amount of fruit), watching your sister’s family at a distance as they eagerly wait for the clock to strike twelve. The blinds of the large living room window have been pulled up, giving an unobstructed view of the sky, ready for the first firework to light up the dark.

For a moment, you feel like an outsider, watching through a lens, as if you’re not quite part of the scene. There’s a strange sense of detachment—voyeuristic, almost—as though you're peering in on a private, intimate moment.

Your sister cradles the infant in her arms, and that all-too-familiar pang stirs to life—the same one that always does when you look at her.

You can't quite place what you're feeling, exactly. It’s tumultuous, and it’s complex. Andrew’s practically dozing off in his seat, and you see your sister shake her head in mild annoyance. Your nephew, fighting to keep his eyes open, starts to fuss.

Something tightens inside your chest.

“Andrew,” she hisses, startling the man awake. He blinks, disoriented, before spotting their son and the early signs of an explosive tantrum.

He sighs, and pulls the boy closer to him. “Hey, hey, little guy. Look at the sky. In just a couple of minutes, the lights are gonna go boom-boom.”

Your nephew sniffs, his eyes blinking up at him as he processes the words. “Boom-boom?”

“Yeah! Just like the one we watched on TV!”

The kid’s face visibly perks up at that, bad mood quickly forgotten. “Boom-boom!”

You watch as your sister’s gaze softens, and a small smile replaces the earlier frown on her face.

And in that instant, you understand.

You look at your sister and, for a brief moment, all you see is a wretched mirror of yourself. She is all of your fears, all of your failures, and all of what you could’ve been rolled into one. Barely in her mid-thirties, and yet already carrying the weight of a family: three kids, a husband who feels like a faded echo of your father—a man who didn’t quite measure up, who never did, and just as unreliable.

You feel the suffocating weight of it all, of being tied to a place that’s meant to be a home but feels more like a tomb, marking the passing of dreams unrealized. She’ll grow old here, buried in the same soil you both sprang from, fading into the landscape of this town that swallows its own.

You look at her and you almost feel the repressed pain of missing the last semester of college to give birth, the lament of a missed opportunity that life has stolen from her.

You feel her pain as if it’s yours. You feel it in the marrow of your bones—her blood flowing through you. “3…” You look at her, and it feels like seeing someone bound, held down by an anchor around her foot, unable to break through the surface of freedom. You look at her and you see dreams once aglow, reduced to cinders. You look at her and see—

She glances up at you.

Oh. “2…” In the fleeting moment where your eyes meet—eyes you two share with your mother—you feel so small.

Just a kid. Shortsighted and unfairly dismissive. Too blind to see your sister’s quiet victories, too selfish to admit you’ve diminished them just so you could feel less alone about your own failures. A child grasping for meaning, unfair in the ways only children can be. “1…” And in the fraction of a second before midnight, it's as if you’ve been doused awake.

You see her anew—what seemed like monotony is really the bedrock of stability; tenacity in place of routine. An almost single-minded doggedness to make something out of this life. You see the steadfast strength she possesses, the kind that gets her up every morning, to face the world and all its demands without question. With purpose.

You see resilience. Compassion. Traits that you’ve always lacked, that you’ve long resented, the same traits your mother never learned to embody.

And now you see your niece in her arms, born from this, and you name the indescribable feeling that dwells in you—borne from the pure look of adoration in your sister’s eyes for her youngest daughter—as envy.

You know, with utmost certainty, that she will be okay, because she has your sister as her mother, and she is so, so loved.

As you watch them, something inside you shifts—a deep, aching realization.

You see… home. Something you've always longed for but never truly found. “Happy new year!” The spell breaks. The two of you startle at the sudden eruption of fireworks, the distant chorus of car horns blaring from the streets outside.

Your niece and nephew jump and shriek, their laughter ringing through the room, celebrating something they barely understand but find joy in anyway. The baby in your sister’s arms lets out a wail at the commotion, and she is soothed instantly with murmurs of soft assurances. Her father struggles upright—then, with no small amount of effort, leans forward to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

The image before you is far from perfect, but it’s theirs.

“Auntie, auntie!” The little rascals cry out in unison, their voices overlapping in excitement. “‘appy n’year!”

A breathless, almost pained laugh escapes you. Still, you smile as you respond with your own, “happy new year!”

You’re tired—tired of running, of measuring yourself against the ghosts of your past. Tired of carrying the weight of a childhood that’s left you with more questions than answers, of making excuses for wounds that should have healed long since. You've spent so much time mourning the growing pains, the irreparable, that you never stopped to see what’s in front of you.

This moment, this realization, feels like the final missing piece in the fractured puzzle of who you are.

The new year arrives, marked by the crackle of fireworks and the loud cheer from your family.

This time, you won’t hesitate. You’ll choose to embrace the change, both good and bad, with open arms. With the quiet resolve of someone finally ready to move forward.

You lift your gaze just as a brilliant burst of red explodes into the night sky, its iridescent glow bleeding into a softer silver before fading into the dark.

A warmth settles deep in your chest—bittersweet, but steady. A quiet peace.

Happy new year, my love. . . . . . . .

. . .

The air at the threshold of Vagrant’s land is restless. Volatile. A hazy distortion ripples through it, folding and unfolding, like a lost mirage—an area of transition between worlds. Porch collapse, he calls it.

Sylus has stood here countless times, watching the way this anomalous disturbance twists the very fabric of this reality, how it flickers in and out of form, erratic. Impossible to predict.

It had taken him longer than he likes to admit to understand the phenomena for what it’s truly worth. Not just an alternate space caused by some spartan energy field. Not just any other protofield. But a thread. A connection. A door.

A fault line between realities, an entryway that hums with the possibility of you.

Since the moment the idea took hold, he had thought of little else. It has consumed him in every waking moment; his entire being seeming to bend toward a singular purpose—getting to you. He had torn through endless streams of data, followed every unstable pulse of energy, mapped its fluctuations down to the smallest inconsistency.

Nights bled into days, and days bled into weeks, until he can no longer keep track. Not that the passage of time meant much to him at this point.

He’s worked tirelessly through the stillness, through the storms of uncertainty, through the aching silence left by your absence. Ever since you’ve exchanged your temporary goodbyes.

He had measured everything he could—the unstable frequency of radio signals streaming through the interstice. He had traced the influx in real time; recording the rate of deterioration, isolating the waveform, and filtering out outside interferences.

But for all the data he gathered, for all the precision in his calculations, the core of this phenomenon remained just out of reach. His knowledge on the matter is rudimentary at most. He could waste years observing for abnormalities, trying to decipher how its presence has disrupted the very threads of this universe, but the why and how of it all will still elude him.

Still, theory matters less than function. He doesn’t need to understand the full depth of it. He only needs to harness it.

It’s a gamble.

Contrary to whatever reputation he’s earned for himself, Sylus has never been one to play his cards recklessly. He deals in certainties, in probabilities stacked in his favor, in risks that—while dangerous—are still within his grasp to control. He has never been the type to leap without knowing where he’d land.

But this is different.

He has never needed to, before. Never had a reason to throw himself into the unknown with no assurance of survival, no way to predict the outcome.

He had no reason to—until you.

Now, it matters less whether or not the odds of his survival are abysmal, that he has no precedent to follow. That your world might reject him entirely. None of it matters. Because if the choice is between staying and never reaching you, or plunging into the great, endless unknown—

He’ll take the leap, every time. Without hesitation.

He’ll leave this world behind, step beyond the edges of everything that has ever defined him, and venture into lands unseen, uncharted. Unknown. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side. If he’ll make it there in one piece. If he will make it there at all.

Sylus has never really questioned why he’s the anomaly in this world. The curiosities of his existence are yours to ponder. After all, he finds that he doesn’t care much of the answer as much as he cares about being with you.

Because wherever you are—that is home.

He takes a step forward, and the universe dissolves into a blinding light.

Sylus wakes to the sensation of weight.

Something presses on him heavily, sinking into his limbs like gravity itself is wrapping around him for the first time.

The ground beneath him is unfamiliar, uneven—tangible in a way he’s never felt before. His fingertips press into the damp earth, leaving the faintest imprint, yielding beneath his touch. The scent of soil rises around him; a rich, bitter brown.

This world does not recognize him, yet it cradles him like its own all the same.

Above, the sky erupts.

Fireworks split open the night, streaks of color exploding and dissipating in an instant—too fleeting to hold, too bright to ignore. A flashbang of incandescent reds and fluorescent greens, followed by bursts of crackling gold and shimmering silver scatter into tiny pinpricks before fading into the darkness.

The air is heavier here, denser in a way that feels almost… alien. It clings to the contours of his new form, seeps into his lungs with every breath.

And oh, how it burns. Not in pain, but in its sheer presence. It rushes into him not as mere oxygen but as something real. Something palpable. He’s lost in the sensation.

He exhales. Then winces.

Immediately, he feels it—the weakness. The brittleness of this new body. Gone is the invulnerability he once wielded so effortlessly, the certainty that nothing could touch him unless he allowed it.

That certainty is gone now, stripped away the moment he crossed the threshold.

He is flesh and bone. Finite. Mortal.

A lesser man might have feared it.

But in the middle of this empty field, miles away from civilization, Sylus can only laugh.

He tips his head back, reeling from the sheer impossibility of it all, eyes tracing the brilliant display above—as if committing it to memory, a coronation of sorts. Of existence. Of arrival. Of a life finally his own.

Reborn. And for the first time in his existence, he is alive.

––––

It’s summer—the summer that marks two years since he left.

Two years. It’s enough time to feel the weight of it, but not enough to make the events feel like something that happened a lifetime ago.

The seasons cycle once more, as they always do, pushing time forward with a steady, indifferent rhythm. And with that change comes a familiar pang—a bittersweet ache, neither grief nor regret, just the weight of knowing that nothing stays the same. Mono no aware.

You’re closer to thirty now, and the thought doesn’t terrify you as much as it did before. Your hair’s in a pixie cut—short and sleek, although the edges are a little ragged from the half-assed trimming you gave it a few days ago.

It would have made you feel stupid, once upon a time, for trying out something drastic for a new look. Instead, you just take it for what it is—one more thing you did because you wanted to. Like the rest of the choices you’ve made over the past two years. It’s yours. Uneven, impulsive, maybe a little questionable. But yours.

It’s liberating. Even if it makes your head look like a pencil.

The voice—the one that picks at your face, your body, your thoughts, everything down to the last imperfection—never really shuts up. It’s quieter now, easier to ignore, but it still lurks in the background, waiting for an opening, a moment of weakness. Maybe it always will. Maybe that’s just the price of being human.

But you don’t fight it anymore. You don’t let it drag you down to a breaking point. You carry yourself differently now, you'd say. No pep in your step just yet, but you don’t feel the need to drag your heels either. Literally and figuratively.

The change has come in waves—sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh—but it’s there, marking you, marking the passage of time. Just like the earth, just like the seasons, you’ve shifted and grown. And perhaps that’s enough.

The sky is ablaze now, a deepening canvas of pinks and purples as the sun sinks lazily to the west. The fiery orange light spills through the large windows, bleeding into every corner of the room, and the world outside seems to slow, caught in the hour before dusk.

You’re behind the counter, wiping down plates with the kind of ease that comes from repetition, the motion so ingrained in you that it barely registers anymore. It’s all routine—the rhythm of it, the quiet hum of the bistro, the clinking of porcelain. The air is thick with the sticky smell of warm pastries, and it’s the sort of evening that feels almost liminal. A moment suspended in time.

You hear the soft tinkling of the door chimes, signaling the arrival of another customer.

It’s a soft, unassuming sound, barely noticeable against the evening lull. You swipe your hands across your apron, turning on instinct, your mouth already forming the usual greeting.

“Hi, welcome to—”

The words die in your throat.

It’s a slow unfolding—almost a gradual realization that stretches across the seconds like the last rays of sun dipping beneath the horizon. He stands in the doorway, a figure outlined in gold, and his presence fills the space between you, no barrier that separates, and it feels... impossible. Unimaginable. Inevitable.

His height is the first thing you notice. He’s taller than you expected, and you know he’ll tower over you, even at a distance. His hair is dark now, the color of midnight, almost—not the silver you once traced with your fingers in your mind. The cut is still similar to what you’ve always known it to be, though a little more unkempt, as if he’s lived in this body long enough for it to take on its own wear.

Then his eyes. The red is gone—no longer the shade of crimson that used to see right through you, those sanguine pools you once loved. In its place, a stormy grey, deep and impossibly expressive, pulling you in like an undertow. The color is striking, alien in its own way, yet there’s a warmth buried beneath it—and the familiarity of it tugs at you.

Even with the changes, even though you’ve never met the person standing in front of you, you’ll know him anywhere.

There’s a shift in the room, a subtle, yet unmistakable change in the air. It’s as if the whole bistro has drawn in a breath—and you with it. Time stretches thin, each passing second expanding into what feels like an eternity.

Your eyes lock—and for a moment, nothing else exists.

It’s as if the world has shifted off its axis. Or, perhaps more accurately, it’s as though a piece that’s always been missing has finally snapped into place.

Something settles in you, something foreign and indescribably familiar at the same time.

Sylus smiles.

“Hello, my love. Have I kept you waiting?”

It feels like home.

____

“Now I found myself this kind of love, I can't believe it I'll never leave it behind I thought I'd never get to feel another fucking feeling But I feel— This love, this love, this love Oh, I feel it.”

End A/N: So this is done! Wow! I'm kind of proud of myself for writing something this long in the span of, idk, three months? Basically, the entire duration of my "vacation" back home. Now with another term and a busier schedule coming up, I really wanted to finish this series before life catches up to me. *sobs* Anyway, I'm so, so happy about the reception of this fic, and you've all been so sweet :') Again, thank you for reading! I'll see you in the spin-off, or whatever shit I put out next haha <3 Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #sylus x non mc reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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