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wheresfury · 1 year

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Use Me

~Pairings: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix

~Warnings: cheating, a little bit of mommy kink, choking, f/f oral sex, vaginal fingering, marking, grinding, dirty talk, drinking, smoking, pre-widowmaker (sorry if I forget to tag something)

~Word count: 8,596

~Summary: Amélie joins her husband on a business trip hoping to spend some time together. Unfortunately business comes first so Amélie makes her way to a shady bar where she meets Ashe, the legendary leader of the Deadlock Rebels. Can this outlaw show Amélie what it’s like to be free?

~Authors note: heyy, it’s been a while 🥹 I apologize for being gone for so long and I’m also sorry this isn’t a marvel update. I haven’t abandoned any of my works but at the moment I am a little obsessed with this pairing known as ouihaw from overwatch 2. They gave me inspiration to write something and actually finish it. I’d like to think of this as a step back into writing more frequently. I know this is a mainly marvel blog but I’d like to make it variety as well with this pairing. I’d like to thank @moonixyy for being my beta reader, you’re amazing! 🩵 I do hope you enjoy and please let me know what y’all think! ♥️

~I will soon have this added to my Masterlist :3

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The boiling heat of the summer in Arizona made Amélie sick to her stomach. She leans against the railing of her motel room walkway as she surveys the view. She heard Phoenix wasn’t too bad being a bigger city but Deadlock Gorge wasn’t on the radar in a good way. It was almost desolate with only one bar, one motel, and one gas station. Her husband, Gérard, was called here on business. What kind she wasn’t sure, she never really asked what he did as an Overwatch agent. He always said it was formed to handle a terrorist organization called Talon. Personally she didn’t give much thought to Gérard’s work. Amélie wonders what kind of business one can make out here. Her husband warned her not to stray far from the motel room, as it wasn’t safe. He didn’t even want her here but she made an argument about never seeing him and well, now she's still not seeing him. Her skin sticky with sweat brings Amélie’s attention back to how awfully hot it is. With a sigh she makes her way back inside to take a cold shower. When washing up Amélie got the urge for a nice glass of red wine. The only place here that might have that would be the biker bar right across from her motel. Gérard told her to stay put but she was her own woman. What’s the worst that could happen?

Amélie takes out a short blue silk spaghetti strap slip dress and slips it on. She forgoes a bra and sticks to a black thong to not show any lines. She puts on some black 6-inch heels and gives a little pirouette. Amélie smiles at herself in the mirror, ballet in any form gives her a breath of fresh air. Besides Gérard, it was her life. Amélie decided to leave her dark long locks down and sprayed a little anti-frizz spritz into her hair. She didn’t want to put anything too heavy in because of the heat and she was just getting a drink, nothing too crazy. She puts on some light makeup, eyeliner, a little smokey eye shadow and a light pink lipstick. The motel phone rings and Amélie perks up at the thought of who it could be.

“Bonjour.” Amélie pauses and realizes she’s in America and probably should have spoken in English but she shrugs it off.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

“Gérard, why are you calling? Are you on your way back?” Silence is heard on the other side making Amélie bite her lip in anticipation.

“I’m sorry, Amélie. I’ll have to stay here overnight. The Talon leader gets in extremely early and it would be easier for me to already be here.” A chill makes its way up Amélie’s spine. Once again work came first.

“Of course, have a nice night.”

“Am-”

*click*

Amélie hangs up the phone before she could hear what he had to say. She wasn’t in the mood. She needed that drink now. Trying not to think about how her husband is miles away and not with her, she grabs her small over the shoulder bag. It contained the essentials, her credit card, identification card, a pack of French cigarettes, a lighter, her room key, some cash and a small caliber pistol, for self defense. Amélie locks up the room and begins her short walk to the bar. Once she hits the road she looks both ways before crossing. With it being a deadbeat town there were no cars or anything like that. The bar was ominous and derelict, Amélie pushed open the door and was immediately hit with the stench of stale cigarettes and beer. Definitely a place she wouldn’t be caught dead in, her family may actually disown her if they knew where she was right now. Amélie’s nose scrunches as she walked in further to the actual bar and takes a seat at one of the little red leather stools. She reminds herself to not speak French so she’s ready. An omnic bartender makes their way from the back.

“Howdy, miss. What can I get you?”

“Do you have any red wine?” An electronic trill indicating a yes emanates from them.

“Perfect, I’ll take a glass of the driest one you have.” With a slight nod they make their way to the back to grab her some wine. Amélie looks around the place with a look of disdain. The few tables they had were scuffed and stained. A couple of billiard tables were along the back wall as dart boards hung on the wall adjacent. It had some character to it, Amélie will give it that much. The doors to the back flail open as the omnic makes their way back with a full glass of wine, much to Amélie’s amusement.

“Here you are, miss. Shall I keep a tab open?” Amélie smiles and retrieves her card out of her purse.

“Please do, thank you.” She hands them her card and reaches for her glass of red. It’s dark and just from looking at it, Amélie’s mouth waters. She brings the glass up to her nose and gives it a healthy sniff. Her cheeks heat up already at the absolute delight she has at the moment. She brings the glass to her lips and takes a nice sip. It’s very dry and it makes Amélie’s mouth pucker. It’s perfect. Amélie slowly sipped at her glass. About an hour passed and she was almost done with her drink when a thunderous sound reverberated throughout the bar. The red liquid produces waves in the glass as the bottles behind the bar clink together. Amélie sits up straight in alarm, expecting the bartender to come out in a panic. When she didn’t see them she looked around as the sound got closer. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, she reached down to grab a hold of her pistol. Within seconds it stops right outside the entrance of the bar. Her grip tightens on the handle of the gun. The door opens and a large omnic with a little hat makes its way in followed by a few others. Another tall omnic and a pair of triplets follow but what caught Amélie’s eye was the woman who was after them. A large cowboy hat sat atop stark white hair a bit above shoulder length, the other side being slightly shorter. Her outfit was very…Wild West if what Amélie could remember from cartoons she happened to catch at a young age taught her. Her lips were painted dark red and she had a beauty mark towards the corner of her mouth, the large cowboy hat putting a shadow over the top of her face. Amélie was shocked when bright red eyes captured her own golden eyes in an enchanting stare. Amélie was still slightly shaking from the unknown and her grip loosened on the gun. She didn’t feel as if she were in any danger anymore but the hair on the back of her neck still stood. The woman makes her way to the bar, right next to Amélie who is looking at the glass of wine with an intense gaze.

“Hey, Ted, can I get a round for the gang and a whiskey for me, neat.” The woman leans her back against the bar as the omnic, Ted, chirps his acknowledgement from the back. Amélie can feel the woman’s red eyes on her as she continues to stare intensely at her glass of wine. With a slightly shaky hand, she reaches out to take another sip. As she does this the woman next to her hums.

“You’re not from around here.” The deep southern drawl made Amélie shiver, not in a bad way.

“What makes you say that?” Amelie’s thick French accent easily gives her away but she pays it no mind. The woman smirks as she eyes Amélie who is now looking at the cowboy herself.

“Is that a French accent I hear?” Amélie looks away from the woman and takes another sip of her wine. She swallows and leans her arms against the bar, her hands holding her chin up as she looks at the woman once more.

“Non, I grew up here actually.” The woman laughs a full bellied laugh and it makes Amélie’s heart jump.

“Is that so? That must make me…Russian.” The woman smiles at Amélie and winks, making the French woman give a soft smile in return. Ted comes back through with a tray full of beer and sets the woman’s whiskey right next to her elbow on the bar.

“Thank you, Ted. Oh and when you’re done with that please get this lovely lady another glass of whatever she’s drinking.” The people that came in with the woman cheered as they were passed their beers and gave Ted pats on the shoulder. The large omnic stayed standing near them, unable to drink himself. Amélie finished off her first glass and pushed it to the other side so it was easier for the bartender to fill. Within a few minutes it was once again full.

“Thank you, Ted.” Amélie takes a sip and relishes in the bitter taste, her eyes close as she takes it in. When her eyes open she’s met with glaring red orbs. The eye contact startled Amélie and she quickly looks away as she feels her cheeks begin to heat up. From the wine or this astonishingly attractive stranger, she doesn’t know. The woman brings the glass of whiskey to her red painted lips and takes a heaping sip. Amélie faces her once more as a drop of whiskey slips past her lips and down her chin. Before she could process what she’s doing, her hand reaches up and wipes the liquid away with her thumb. Amélie brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks the liquid off, the burn of the hard liquor making itself known. The red eyed woman was stunned to say the least, her jaw had dropped slightly as she tried to gather herself.

“Top shelf stuff, I’m impressed.” The woman finally composes herself and clears her throat as she gets up from leaning against the bar to take a seat on the stool next to Amélie, tipping her hat a bit.

“Well, I’m not one to care much for which shelf my whiskey comes from but Ted knows my favorites.” Amélie takes another sip of her wine as she takes the time to look the stranger over. She noticed a forearm tattoo peaking out of her long sleeved shirt and wondered what it was. The two women sit and drink in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the soft country tunes from the radio and the rowdy gang with bellies full of beer. Curiosity gets the best of Amélie.

“Are you in a gang?” The blonde woman snickers as she takes another sip of her drink.

“Now what makes you think that?” Amélie looks at the woman and makes eye contact with her, her red eyes mesmerized the French woman to a degree she couldn’t understand.

“You came here on what I can only assume are motorcycles with how barbaric it sounded,” the stranger chuckles at this, “and you called them gang when ordering drinks.”

“Wait, is that all you have to go on?” Amélie blushes at how intense the woman’s stare is on her. Amélie points at the woman’s forearm where a tattoo peeks out.

“You also have a tattoo and seem to be in charge.” The woman smirks and leans the tattooed arm across the bar, her hand nearly touching Amélie’s that’s resting on the bar top.

“Well you got that right, ma’am.” The woman reaches with her right hand to roll up the sleeve on her shirt to reveal the tattoo in all its glory. Turns out it was a couple tattoos. A rose adorns the wrist as the thorns wrap around her forearm encircling a skull logo of sorts with the words Deadlock Rebels. Amélie reaches out her right hand and traces along the tattoos. The woman shivers but lets the ballerina touch her. There was something about this strange foreigner that got to her and she loved it.

“I’m not sure if I should be scared or not. I’m told it’s dangerous around here.” The woman hums as Amélie continues to trace along the tattoo, transfixed by it.

“Who told you that?” The woman leans in closer, so close Amélie could feel her breath on her face. The stench of whiskey and cigarettes present. Amélie found it charming.

“My husband.” This didn’t deter the woman from pulling away, much to Amélie's surprise.

“He’s right, you know. It's a dangerous place, the Deadlock Gorge.” It hit Amélie now, the connection of names.

“Is this your town?” Amélie’s golden eyes catch the red ones that were already looking at her. The woman smiles and reaches into her pocket to produce a cigarette. With her left arm still being in Amélie’s grasp she uses her right hand once more to fish out the lighter in her shirt pocket. She lights up the cigarette and takes a deep drag.

“I hope you don’t mind if I smoke.” Amélie shakes her head and reaches into her bag to grab her own. The woman smirks around the cigarette and brings her lighter up to light the French woman’s cigarette. Amélie takes a big inhale and continues to trace along the woman’s tattoo with her right hand.

“I’m French, I came out smoking.” This makes the woman laugh wildly, making Amélie’s stomach do jumping jacks.

“I knew you were French.” At this Amélie smirks.

“You caught me.” With another drag of her cigarette the woman clears her throat.

“My name is Ashe.” Amélie takes a hit and slowly exhales taking in the woman, Ashe, like it was the first time. Ashe fits her perfectly.

“Amélie.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Tell me, Amélie, what’s a girl like you doing in a shithole like this?” Amélie reaches for her glass and takes a sip before answering.

“My husband is here on business and I wanted to tag along.” Ashe looks at her with her head cocked to the side.

“Yet you’re here alone, I’m guessing he didn’t want you coming along.” Amélie shakes her head and takes another drag of her cigarette. Ashe does the same as she takes Amélie in.

“No, he didn’t.” Amélie sighs and exhales a cloud of smoke.

“I don’t really care what he does but what do you do, miss Amélie?” Amélie looks a little taken aback, it had been so long since someone’s asked her about her own life. Her husband was so interesting she was always on the back burner.

“I’m a ballet dancer. The best in my company.” Ashe smiles and taps some of the ash off of her cigarette.

“Now that is incredibly impressive and I just know you’re the best.” Amélie laughs and shakes her head.

“And how exactly would you know that?” Ashe smirks and takes a drag from her nearly done cigarette. Ashe’s eyes look up and down Amélie’s figure, not at all hiding the fact she was checking her out. Amélie raises her brow and lightly scratches her nails over Ashe’s forearm.

“Well darlin’, you have a dancer's body. What else are those long legs made for?” Ashe’s smirk grows wider as her mind deviates from the subject for a second. Amélie must have the same exact thought process as her nails dig in softly making Ashe hiss slightly.

“Aren’t you being a little bold with a married lady?” Ashe chuckles and takes one last drag before putting the cigarette out in the ashtray at the top of the bar. Amélie takes a long drag as Ashe puts hers out. Amélie’s being a bit longer; she has some time left.

“Forgive me, ma’am, it’s just the way you haven’t been able to take your hand off of me makes me think you want something too.” Amélie hums and blows out a puff of smoke, twirling the shortened stick in her fingers as her other hand is still attached to the woman’s arm.

“Tell me this, Ashe. Are you dangerous?” Ashe scoots closer to Amélie and takes her cigarette out of her hand. She offers the cigarette to Amélie and she leans forward to take a drag. Once she finished Ashe pulled the cigarette away and brought it to her lips. She inhaled the French product and was pleasantly surprised with how good it tasted. Ashe pulls it away and before she puts it out she notices it has a slight pink hue at the top where Amélie’s lips meet the stick. Ashe exhaled the smoke and licked her lips, it tasted of strawberry. Ashe deposited the butt into the ashtray and faced Amélie once more, her eyes darting to those pink luscious lips, which she now knows tastes of strawberries. How she wanted to taste it straight from the source.

“I’m an outlaw.” Amélie moves closer as her hand that was practically attached to Ashe’s arm moves up, over her strong bicep and shoulder to rest on her neck, rubbing slightly.

“Is that a yes, cowboy?” Ashe inhales sharply at the name, it sounded too good coming from those lips with that delicate accent.

“Yes.” Ashe shakely breathes out. Her thighs squeeze together as she begins to heat up, her arousal growing exponentially. Ashe leans further towards the ever closer Amélie. The scent of strawberry invades Ashe’s senses as their lips brush against the other. Amélie’s eyes darted down to Ashe’s red lips, they were right there for the taking and she wanted to take them so bad. She knew her life would change if she did what she wanted to. Before she could back out the outlaw closed the gap between them, capturing Amélie’s lips in a passionate kiss. Amélie’s mind goes blank and immediately fills with thoughts of this outlaw. Ashe’s tongue pokes Amélie’s bottom lip and she opens her mouth. Ashe’s tongue pushes in and Amélie’s tongue dances around hers. The large hat Ashe was wearing bumps into Amélie’s forehead making Ashe chuckle. Amélie smiles and swallows the outlaws laugh in her mouth. Ashe’s right hand comes up to hold onto the hat as the kiss gets messier. Amélie moved her head to the side a bit and deepened the kiss. Ashe tilts her head to the side as well and once again her hat pokes Amélie in the forehead. Ashe chuckled and decided to take her hat off, putting it on the bar. Now that her right hand was free Ashe places it at the back of Amélie’s neck. Their tongues move in a well coordinated dance as their hands wrap in the other's hair. It’s passionate and it lights the fire in both of them that they long since thought they lost. Amélie can’t remember the last time she was kissed like this and actually felt something. Ashe heard Ted place another glass of whiskey by her side and she starts to pull away from the kiss, as much as she didn’t want to. Amélie captures Ashe’s bottom lip and suckles at it slightly as she pulls away, her bottom lip being pulled slightly until it was naturally let go by her movement. Ashe had to contain herself so she didn’t whimper out loud in front of her gang. Amélie wipes at her bottom lip, surely she has smudged lipstick and grabs her wine to down the rest of it. Ashe clears her throat and grasps the glass of whiskey taking it in one quick shot. Ashe reaches into her pocket and produces a handful of gold coins to place on the bar.

“Thanks, Ted. This should cover ours and the nice lady here.” Amélie quickly shakes her head.

“It’s okay, I have a tab. You can close it now, Ted.” Ashe hums and raises an eyebrow at Ted, pushing the coins closer to him.

“Do we have an understanding here?” Ted beeps and nods his head. He makes his way to the back and comes back out with Amélie’s card.

“Here you are, miss. Have a nice night and thank you for choosing us.”

“Thank you, Ted. The wine was lovely.” Ted bows his head and turns to Ashe as Amélie puts her card away in her bag.

“Have a nice night, Ashe.” Ashe tips her head in acknowledgement and grabs her hat.

“You as well, Ted,” Ashe turns to Amélie and the latter grabs the hat out of her hand and places it atop her own head, “why doesn’t that look mighty fine on you, Amélie.” Amélie smiles and winks at the outlaw.

“When I get too old for ballet, maybe I’ll become an outlaw too.” Ashe laughs and throws her head back as her cheeks burn in pure joy.

“I’ll tell you what, there’s always a place at the Deadlock Rebels for you. Being the boss has its perks.” Ashe says with a wink. Ashe slides off the stool and stands up to offer her hand to Amélie. Amélie smiles and takes her hand, standing up from the bar stool.

“Where exactly do you think I’m going?” Ashe pauses and brings her hand down, Amélie’s secured in her grasp.

“I was hoping you’d show me where you’re staying so I can walk you home, make sure you’re safe.” Amélie raises her brows in slight surprise at Ashe not out right saying she wants to have sex with her.

“How chivalrous of you, cowboy. Here I thought you only wanted to take me to bed.” Ashe smirks and tilts her head to the side.

“I mean, if that’s what happens after I walk you home…who’s to say I wouldn’t say yes.” Amélie releases her hand from Ashe’s grasp to push her shoulder back. Ashe laughs at the motion and grabs the offending hand to wrap around her own shoulders. With Amélie being a bit taller, Ashe has to lean up to capture the ballerina's lips in a kiss. Before Ashe could deepen it, Amélie pulls away with a small smile.

“You’re not my type.”

“I’m everyone’s type, darlin’.” Amélie rolls her eyes at the very obvious ego the outlaw had.

“I’m married.” Ashe rolls her eyes in return.

“Are you happy?” What Ashe said made Amélie pause. She hasn’t been happy in her marriage for a long time, in fact the Gérard she knew wasn’t the same man anymore. The only thing that made Amélie happy was when she was on stage dancing her heart out. Yet tonight with this outlaw she feels…happy and free.

“I am right now.” Ashe smiles at this and pecks Amélie’s cheek placing her arm around Amélie’s waist.

“Me too, darlin’. I think you should leave with me, now let me walk you home.” Amélie nods and starts to walk to the door.

“It’s just the motel across the street, it was the only place available.” Ashe hums in acknowledgement.

“Pretty much all there is around here so I kinda figured,” As the two made their way to the entrance Ashe stopped in front of the large omnic “hey Bob make sure everyone gets back to the hideout safe. I’ll make my way back later.” The omnic, Bob, nods his head and signs back to Ashe in acknowledgement. He looks at Amélie and then back to Ashe, he signs something else to Ashe and she nods before undoing her arm around Amélie to sign back. Amélie wonders what they were talking about, she figured it was about her since even Ashe wasn’t speaking aloud. Once Ashe finished replying her arm went right back to Amélie’s waist. She begins walking to the exit and Amélie follows alongside her. Once outside Amélie turns her head to face Ashe.

“Is everything okay?” Ashe turns to look Amélie in the eyes.

“Oh you mean with Bob? He was just telling me to be careful is all. He cares a great deal about me and I do for him as well.” Amélie nodded and looked around, the sun was beginning to set and not a single soul was outside. The motorcycles that belonged to the gang were parked alongside the front of the bar. A red one stands out among the black painted ones.

“Let me guess, yours is the red one.” Ashe smiles wider than Amélie has seen that night, must be pride or even that ego of hers.

“Isn’t she a beauty! Do you want to take a ride, darlin’? She purrs like you’ve never felt before.” Amélie has no doubt in her mind it does just that, if the loud sound it made coming in was any indication however she wanted something else between her legs.

“Maybe next time, I kind of just want to get inside out of this heat.” Ashe hums and squeezes Amélie’s waist.

“Sounds like a plan to me, darlin’.” With that being said the two made their way across the street to Amélie’s motel. Her room was on the second floor and the two didn’t release their hold on the other until they were standing right in front of the door. Amélie takes her arm from around Ashe’s shoulders to dig for the room key in her bag. The clunky key ring is grasped into her palm. With a small spin Amélie leans against the door, the hand holding the room key behind her back. Amélie’s other hand grabs Ashe’s hat that sits atop her head and lifts it off. Ashe is within inches of Amélie so it doesn’t take much to place her hat back in its rightful place, on Ashe’s head. Amélie pulls the brim down slightly and smiles.

“Thank you for walking me back safely, cowboy. You were wonderful company.” Ashe blushes slightly and breaks eye contact to look at the ground, suddenly shy.

“Oh it was nothing, darlin’. Glad I could be considered wonderful company, you weren’t so bad yourself.” Ashe smiles and places her hands in her pants pockets, rocking back on her heels. Amélie offers a sly smile.

“If you’re willing, I could still use some company.” Ashe perks up at this and Amélie reaches out to grab her red tie to pull her closer. Ashe leans up to kiss Amélie firmly on the mouth, she then pulls slightly away.

“Then use me.” Ashe whispers into Amélie’s mouth and before she could say more, Amélie envelopes her in another kiss. Amélie’s tongue explores Ashe’s mouth as Ashe’s hands find purchase on Amélie’s waist. Ashe squeezes her sides and begins to get handsy. As Ashe’s hands move lower to roam over Amélie’s ass, Amélie brings her free hand up to tangle in short blonde locks free from her hat. Ashe let’s out a little moan as Amélie pulls her hair. Amélie smiles into the kiss and pulls away to moan when she squeezes her ass.

“Fuck.” Ashe laughs and moves her kisses across Amélie’s cheek and down to her neck. Her tongue pops out and trails down to her pulse point. Ashe nips at the spot careful not to leave a mark, as much as she’d love to.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, darlin’. Let’s get inside.” Ashe’s hands don’t leave the spot they have claimed on Amélie’s ass as she turns around to open the door. Ashe’s lips finding their way to the back of her shoulder. The door opens up quickly and they stumble their way inside. Ashe closes the door behind them and locks it up. They break apart for a second to get situated. Amélie takes her bag off and throws it on the table next to the door that served as a dresser and entertainment center with a big boxy television straight from the 90’s. This place really needs an update. Ashe gives the room a little look around and decides to take off her hat, placing it next to Amélie’s bag.

“Nice place you got here, I feel underdressed.” Ashe says in a teasing manner. Amélie rolls her eyes in adoration and grabs the outlaw by the flaps of her leather vest.

“I think you’re overdressed. Let’s fix that shall we?” Ashe smirks as Amélie begins to unzip her vest.

“No foreplay? Why don’t you dance for me.” Amélie tosses Ashe’s vest to the ground and begins to unbutton her shirt, Amélie begins to get visibly frustrated with all the complicated things on Ashe's outfit. Ashe brings her hands up to cup Amélie’s own.

“Let me handle it, darlin’.” Amélie huffs in slight frustration as Ashe begins to finish undressing herself. She does it slowly, not out of nerves but because she loved seeing the impatience in the other woman. Her ego inflames at the sight. This woman wanted the outlaw so bad and the feeling was incredibly mutual. Amélie’s hand go to undo the straps of her dress when Ashe clicks her tongue in response, Amélie took it as a sign to stop what she was doing. When she placed her hands back down at her side, Ashe visibly relaxed. Ashe finally stepped out of her pants and was left in her white bra and underwear. She was absolutely stunning to Amélie. Her body was tight, slightly visible abs on her stomach. Shoulders broad as ever and her arms were just mouth watering, apparently being an outlaw gives you muscles. Must be the running away part so as to not get caught. Her breasts were bigger compared to Amélie’s own. Her thin frame matched the barely there breasts she had.

“You’re so beautiful, Ashe.” A deeper shade of red makes its way to Ashe’s already red cheeks. Ashe was incredibly turned on and she couldn’t wait to get Amélie out of her dress. Ashe steps closer to Amélie and proceeds to get down on her knees. Amélie inhaled deeply as Ashe’s face comes face to face with her most sacred area. The silk dress was short and only made it half way down her thighs. Ashe looks up at Amélie after lazily trailing her eyes along her body. Her hands lift up her left leg and Amélie quickly finds herself grabbing onto Ashe’s shoulders to keep her balance. Ashe removes the high heel with ease and proceeded to do the same with the other. She left little kisses along every ounce of skin she could find. Amélie shivers as Ashe makes her way up her thighs, gathering the silk dress in her rough hands. She slowly drags it up, over her thighs, her stomach, Ashe’s lips leaving nothing untouched. Ashe barely pays attention to her breasts, knowing she needs to see all of Amélie first. Amélie raises her arms as Ashe takes the dress off the rest of the way, leaving Amélie in just her black thong. Ashe stands up fully and is happy to see she’s not too much shorter than Amélie anymore. Her eyes take in everything Amélie has to offer, her hands making their way onto the ballerina's body.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, Amélie.” Instead of answering, Amélie brings Ashe in for a kiss by burying her hands in the outlaws hair. Tongues dance as Ashe explores Amélie’s body. Her hands grab Amélie’s breasts and squeeze them firmly, twisting her nipples slightly. Amélie moans into Ashe’s mouth at the feeling.

“Harder.” Ashe smirks at this as she pulls away, Amélie’s mouth moving to Ashe’s neck, kissing and nipping lightly.

“You like it rough, baby?” Amélie moans at the term of endearment.

“I do, unfortunately it’s not something I get.” Ashe looks offended at this as if Amélie is insulting her personally.

“What else do you not get, that you want?” Amélie pulls away from Ashe’s neck to look her in the eyes. Her right hand comes up to trace Ashe’s lips. Two of her fingers prod at the slit and Ashe obliges and opens her mouth. Ashe’s tongue swirls around the long slender digits as Amélie takes the sensual sight in. The urge to gag her takes over but she restrains herself. All these desires she was unable to do before come crashing down. Ashe‘s tongue continues to swirl as she sucks on Amélie’s fingers, never breaking eye contact.

“I had a girlfriend in high school who loved going down on me. I haven’t felt it since.” At this Ashe’s eyes widen then grow thin in anger. Amélie takes her fingers out of Ashe’s mouth so she could answer.

“You’re telling me that your dead beat husband doesn’t eat you out?” Amélie shakes her head.

“He told me he tried once when he was with a previous partner and it did nothing for him.” Ashe’s mouth drops open and she scoffs.

“Men are disgusting. Lucky for you, I reckon, I’m an expert and eating pussy is quite literally the best.” Amélie’s fingers, that were still wet from Ashe’s mouth, grasp Ashe’s chin in a firm grip.

“Expert? Are you trying to make me jealous thinking about all the previous women you’ve done this to?” Ashe smirks and maneuvers Amélie onto the bed. Amélie scoots up so her head is on the pillow and Ashe climbs on top of her til she is face to face with the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

“Is it working?” Ashe smirks as Amélie glares at her.

“If you think you’re the one in charge, you’re wrong. I’ll punish you for being a brat.” Ashe bites her lip then plants kisses along Amélie’s face, down to her neck.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do? Spank me?” Amélie’s hands find one of their favorite new spots in Ashe’s hair, pulling the luscious locks.

“Wouldn’t you love to know.” Ashe groans as Amélie’s thigh finds itself in between Ashe’s legs, pressing up into her cunt. The heat Amélie finds is absolutely mesmerizing, she just knew Ashe was completely soaked underneath. Glad to know she was in the same boat as her.

“Remind me to misbehave sometime.” Amélie giggles at this.

“It could be a reward too, cowboy.” Ashe blushes and nuzzles into Amélie’s neck. Ashe’s right hand moves down Amélie’s body and rests atop her covered pussy. The move made Amélie moan and Ashe groans at the heat radiating off of her. She was soaked and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Ashe trails kisses down Amélie’s body, stopping at her breasts. She takes the right one into her mouth as her left hand finds Amélie’s other breast, squeezing roughly. She nibbles at her nipple and bites down a bit too much, to Amélie’s pleasure. After a few minutes Ashe switches to the other breast to give it the same amount of attention.

“Baby, please.” Now it’s Ashe’s turn to melt at the name. Amélie’s nipple slips out of Ashe’s mouth and she blows cool air onto it watching as Amélie squirms at the feeling.

“I wish I could leave my mark on you,” Amélie’s eyes roll back as Ashe trails kisses down her taught stomach “but what if your husband sees? That’ll be just awful, hm. Seeing how much of a slut his wife is.” Amélie moans as Ashe’s hand peels off her thong, moving it swiftly down and off her legs. Amélie’s pussy lay completely bare and Ashe can see the slight sheen of her wetness at the base of her mound. Ashe's hand glides along her bare cunt as Amélie spreads her legs some more, giving Ashe room to cup her pussy. The heat made Ashe bite her lip. Ashe kisses Amélie’s mound and looks up at the disheveled woman.

“Did you expect to be fucked? Is that why your pussy is waxed?” Amélie groans as Ashe squeezes her cunt lips.

“N-non it’s all the tight shapewear I have to dance in, makes it easier.” Ashe hums and kisses Amélie’s hips.

“I’m not so cleaned up, miss ballerina.” Ashe licks a stripe down to Amélie’s mound, moving her hand in the meantime. Ashe scoots a bit further down the bed and situated herself between Amélie’s thighs. Ashe grabs Amélie’s legs to bend them at the knees for easier access. Ashe looks up to see Amélie looking right back at her.

“It’s just body hair, I don’t mind.” Ashe smirks and kisses Amélie’s pussy lips. Amélie throws her head into the pillow with a moan. Ashe pushes Amélie’s legs further apart to help spread her pussy and keep it nice and open for Ashe to devour. Amélie’s pretty pink cunt glistens in the low light of the motel room. Ashe was in awe, it truly was the best she’s ever seen. Not that it’s a competition because everyone is different but she could stare at it all day.

“Fuck, please Ashe. Do something.” Ashe bites her lip at the need dripping from Amélie’s words and moves to lay on her stomach. Once she was comfortable Ashe licks a broad stripe up her pussy, making Amélie moan louder than before. Ashe groans at the taste of Amélie, she already knew she was a goner the minute she saw her alone at the bar but now, now she’s obsessed. Ashe kisses Amélie’s clit and with a smirk comes up with a plan.

“Alright I did something, my turn.” Before she could move to sit up Amélie’s thighs locked Ashe’s neck in place. Ashe’s face squished into Amélie’s pussy. Ashe would happily die right now.

“You’re such a brat. Do what mommy says.” Ashe’s eyes widen as Amélie slowly releases her with a smirk on her face.

“Mommy huh? You just might get me to call you that someday.” Amélie rolls her eyes and nudges Ashe with her thigh.

“You just did, foolish girl.” Ashe chuckles and plants kisses along Amélie’s thigh.

“That was a freebie, baby.” Before Amélie could retort she suckles Amélie’s clit into her mouth. A loud moan emanates from the back of Amélie’s throat, her head thrown back once more. Ashe’s tongue flicks over the hardened bud as her hands reach up to grab Amélie’s breasts. They were small but Ashe loved them, her nipples a light shade of pink, slightly red from Ashe’s rough treatment. As her fingers twist Amélie’s nipples, her tongue begins rapidly flicking her clit. Amélie’s back arches, making it harder for Ashe to palm her breasts. The sight was breathtaking in Ashe’s eyes. A light sheen of sweat glistened on Amélie’s alabaster skin. Ashe gives Amélie’s nipples one last twist causing Amélie to groan in pleasure. Ashe smirks with Amélie’s clit snuggled in her mouth. Ashe pulls away from her clit and before Amélie could say a word, Ashe grabs Amélie’s thighs and holds them open as she moves lower to lick at Amélie’s entrance. Amélie’s wetness trickles out at a steady pace, Ashe’s face wet with her juices. Ashe licks her lips and sucks the folds into her mouth, lightly nibbling them. She pulls away and kisses the petals as she spreads Amélie’s thighs wider, her pussy now on full display. Her arms encircled Amélie’s thighs holding them steady as she dived in to slurp up the wetness, her tongue moving fast yet steady. Amélie makes more noise when she brings her teeth into play so Ashe nips her folds lightly after every few licks.

“Ashe, please.” Ashe looks up to see Amélie staring at her intensely. Ashe pulls away slightly from Amélie’s pussy to answer.

“What do you want, baby?” Amélie moans as Ashe moves her right hand from Amélie’s thigh to rub at her dripping folds, puffy from all the action it’s getting.

“I need you inside me, cowboy.” Ashe groans as Amélie brings her hands down to grasp at Ashe’s hair, pulling slightly at the blonde strands. Ashe kisses Amélie’s thigh and goes back to her previous position. Her right hand, sticky with Amélie’s juices grabs her thigh once more. Ashe’s tongue lashes out and prods at Amélie’s entrance. Ashe pokes her tongue inside and grips Amelie’s thighs tighter. Amélie’s pussy pulses around Ashe’s tongue causing her to roll her eyes back at the feeling. Ashe’s head begins to slightly hurt from Amélie’s grip but she didn’t mind, it shows just how good she was doing. Ashe closes her eyes and her nose bumps against Amélie’s clit as her tongue pumps in and out of her wet cunt. Amélie hasn’t stopped moaning and Ashe is determined to make her scream. Amélie’s thighs begin to quiver, telling Ashe she was closer to release. Ashe opens her eyes and moves her tongue back up to Amélie’s clit much to her dissatisfaction.

“Ashe-” Amélie was cut off by Ashe’s right hand moving to her entrance, sliding two fingers in easily. One of Amélie’s hands leaves Ashe’s hair to grab at her own breasts. Ashe takes Amélie’s beauty in as her fingers pump steadily in and out of Amelie’s cunt. Her walls clinging on as if she never wanted to let go. Ashe needed to be closer to see the pleasure on her face. Ashe pulls her mouth off of her clit and immediately replaces her tongue with her thumb. Ashe leaves a trail of kisses up Amélie’s stomach, across her breasts, her neck, til she reaches her face taking her lips in a kiss. It was sloppy and downright disgusting. Ashe’s face was covered in Amélie’s slick and it made them both insane for the taste. Ashe’s tongue enters Amélie’s mouth as a third finger makes its way into her pussy. Ashe straddles Amélie’s thigh grinding slightly to lessen the pain in her own pussy. Amélie notices and applies pressure as best she can. They both swallow a moan as their pleasure grows exponentially. Amélie pulls away from the kiss taking a deep breath in, she was close and she was struggling to keep up with Ashe’s kisses. Ashe sloppily kisses Amélie’s cheek and moves to her ear, nibbling the lobe softly.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, tell me who fucks you so good?” Amélie hiccups as Ashe’s fingers pick up their pace, her thumb rubbing circles over her clit. Amélie’s eyes roll as her head seeks out Ashe’s lips, leaning against the woman’s mouth.

“Only you, cowboy. You fuck me so go-od!” Amélie ends her sentence with a screech as Ashe bites down on her neck. That’s sure to leave a mark to deal with later. Ashe licks the new bite and kisses it softly, she pulls her head back to look at Amélie’s face. Her eyes closed in pleasure, mouth slightly open; the most beautiful sounds falling out.

“Look at me, Amélie.” Amélie’s eyes open and dark red meets pleasure filled golden orbs. Ashe smiles as her fingers begin to cramp. Ashe keeps her pace steady knowing Amélie is incredibly close, her forearm burns slightly.

“Cum for me.” Amélie’s hands find a home on Ashe’s back as her body begins to vibrate in pleasure. Her nails drag down Ashe’s back as her hips lift off the bed. Amélie slightly screams out a moan as her orgasm hits. Ashe takes in the sight of Amélie’s face in pure bliss as she reaches orgasm. Ashe winces a bit at the scratching of her back but she can’t wait to see the aftermath. Ashe slows her pace helping Amélie ride out her high. Amélie whimpers as she slowly pulls her fingers out. Ashe lifts them up and takes them into her mouth, Amélie’s own mouth slightly drops open at the sight. Once she deems her fingers clean she pulls them out with a pop.

“Made you scream, darlin’.” Ashe smirks and Amélie rolls her eyes at her cockiness. Ashe's newly saliva stained hand reaches out to rest on Amélie’s stomach. Amélie hums and closes her eyes as Ashe begins to massage the area in small circles. A few minutes pass by like this with Ashe lazily kissing her cheek that’s closest to the outlaw and Amélie almost feels like she could fall asleep until she notices Ashe begin to rock on her thigh. Amélie opens her eyes and rests her left hand on the one making circles on her stomach. Ashe pauses her ministrations and looks at Amélie, her face slightly puffy and her lipstick smudged to bits. Amélie intertwines her fingers with Ashe’s, bringing them up to kiss the back of her hand. Ashe squeezes Amélie’s hand in return. It was very intimate for two strangers to be and yet it came so naturally to them. Ashe looks into Amélie’s eyes and sees something switch in them when she looks back. Eyes once again filled with pleasure. Ashe is more than ready to give Amélie another orgasm, she would happily do it all the time in fact. Ashe begins to crawl her way back in between Amélie’s legs when she’s stopped by a squeeze on her hand.

“Non, it’s your turn now.” Ashe smiles crookedly and looks at Amélie’s slightly pouting face.

“We don’t have to worry about me this time, I’m okay.” Amélie raises a brow and lifts the thigh Ashe currently has between her legs making Ashe moan at the sensation. Ashe looks away in a rare show of shyness and Amélie brings her right hand up to cup her cheek, her thumb rubbing across the top of her cheek.

“Take your underwear off and then sit right back down on my thigh.” Amélie left no room to argue and Ashe broke away from her to stand up and unclip her bra, her generously sized breasts now on full display bringing much joy to Amélie. Ashe tosses the bra onto the floor and slides her underwear down her legs, the shine of her slick present on her thighs and fair colored pubic hair. Amélie bites her lip and takes a deep breath, she sits up and scoots back to sit up against the headboard, her legs still splayed out. Amélie pats her thigh that’s slightly sticky from what Ashe could do covered up and it was seconds before Ashe straddles her thigh sitting herself on the bare skin. Ashe moans as her soaked pussy meets Amélie’s muscular thigh. Amélie leans forward and takes one of Ashe’s nipples into her mouth, her left hand taking the other in its grasp. Her tongue swirls around her nipple and sucks the bud harder when Ashe brings her hands up to tangle in Amélie’s long black hair. Amélie switches to the other breast giving it equal attention as Ashe begins to rock her hips along Amélie’s thigh. Once Amélie was done showering Ashe’s breasts with attention she sucked deep bruises on her neck. Ashe moans loudly as she’s marked up, she loves it.

“What’s that popular saying of your kind?” Ashe is taken aback as Amélie sits back to look at her.

“My kind?” Amélie tilts her head as Ashe looks confused.

“I saw it in a show once…about riding a horse, save a cowboy.” Ashe chuckles at Amélie’s revelation.

“I think you mean…save a horse, ride a cowboy. Which technically speaking should be when you ride me, not the other way around.” Ashe smirks as Amélie’s cheeks heat up.

“Yes, well, maybe next time.” Ashe grins at the thought of a next time and brings her hands up to cup Amélie’s cheeks bringing her into a soft kiss. Amélie moans into the kiss as her hands grab onto Ashe’s hips, she slowly begins to guide the cowboy to pick up a pace against her thigh. Ashe pulls away to moan as she speeds up her movement.

“I like the idea of a next time, darlin’.” Amélie smirks at the visual in front of her. Ashe’s juices covered her thigh in no time, making her movements become harder to be consistent.

“Me too, cowboy. Now ride me, just like that.” Ashe groans as her clit hits her thigh at this perfect speed. She needed something more. The thought of spanking definitely helped but she grasps Amélie’s left hand and brings it up to her throat. Amélie’s eyebrows raise at the gesture. Her hand encircles Ashe’s neck and squeezes slightly. Ashe whimpers at the feeling.

“You can squeeze harder, baby. I trust you.” Amélie’s eyes droop in pleasure as her hand squeezes a bit harder making Ashe struggle a bit to keep her movement up.

“Such a dirty little slut, wanting to be choked out like this. Come on, cowboy, you can ride faster,” Ashe picks up her pace as her hands come up to grab onto Amélie’s arm that’s currently around her throat, her eyes begin to water as her release inches closer, “rub your clit for me, baby. I know you’re close, crying like the whore you are.” Ashe’s eyes roll back as one of her hands drops down to rub circles at her clit. The hand around her neck tightens more but not enough to cut off any air, Ashe is in heaven. Ashe’s moans become slightly muffled due to the fact Amélie has quite the hold on her and it’s fueling the air, hot with pleasure. Amélie brings her right hand up from Ashe’s hip to tug at her breasts.

“Cum for me, cowboy.” Within seconds Ashe’s back arches as she struggles to let out the moan her orgasm makes her feel. Her cum leaks out over Amélie’s thigh and Amélie quivers at the sight. Ashe’s chest heaves as she tries to breathe in deep. Amélie releases her throat and Ashe takes a deep breath. Her hands slump forward by Amélie’s hips and her head nestles itself into Amélie’s neck. Amélie brings her hands up to run her fingers through blonde locks and traces them up and down her back, careful of the scratches from earlier.

“You did so well for me, good girl.” Amélie kisses the top of Ashe’s head as Ashe makes a cute noise. Amélie smiles and peppers small kisses across any area of Ashe she could. A few minutes pass and Amélie almost thinks Ashe fell asleep.

“So good.” Amélie giggles as Ashe lifts her head up to kiss her. They kiss lazily for a few minutes, enjoying the afterglow once more. Fully satiated and content to relax in the other person. Ashe pulls away from Amélie’s kissable lips to unstraddle her. Ashe almost looks embarrassed at the mess she made on Amélie’s thigh. Amélie runs her hand down Ashe’s arm, the one with tattoos and hums.

“Why don’t you clean up your mess, cowboy. Then we can sleep.” Ashe bites her lip at the thought of falling asleep next to the gorgeous woman and bends down to lick up her cum that was beginning to dry on Amélie’s thigh. She licks it all up and nibbles at the flesh, much to Amélie’s delight. Ashe makes her way back up her body and sits next to her, bringing Amélie into a kiss. They both scoot down and rest their heads on the pillow as the kiss deepens, Ashe’s tongue exploring Amélie’s mouth. Amélie pulls away and Ashe opens her eyes to see Amélie admiring her.

“Good girl.” Ashe looks away as a blush rises to her cheeks and Amélie smiles at the adorable cowboy and brings her in once more for a kiss. Maybe, just maybe, Ashe has a thing for praise. The two get underneath the covers as Ashe switches off the light next to the bed. After a few more lazy kisses Amélie turns around in Ashe’s arms. Ashe kisses her shoulder as she sighs in contentment.

“Goodnight, darlin’.” Amélie twists her head back slightly to accept one final goodnight kiss from Ashe.

“Goodnight, cowboy.”

━━━━━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━━━━━━

Forever tag list: @cheethos , @kello-unknown , @domromanoff , @stuckys-whore , @marilynroselleprentiss , @captainwonderwidow , @wndamaximov , @awrykai , @tribblemakingalicorn

I know it's been a while and I remembered I had a tag list, I hope y'all don't mind. If you would like to be removed just let me know and if you’d like to be tagged in non-marvel works as well (or even my marvel works), don't be shy, I'll gladly add you! ♥️

#ashe x widowmaker #ouihaw #overwatch #(n)sfw #overwatch fanfiction #widowmaker x ashe #overwatch 2 #widowmaker #ashe #super soft #and gay #🩵

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glitched-dawn · 4 months

Text

General blog info

Since I said I would do this (actually I am just bored and no one knows wtf is going on in this blog) Imma make a masterpost with the general info of the blog and what's going on here. and also a little info about myself because ppl need more info abt me to send hate anons:

im a writer, obviously. im also a demiromantic apothisexual transmasc. i like baking, going out in the woods, writing (obviously), drawing and making art, playing instruments and singing, and im also a big fan of either napping half the day or staying up all night.

im not in very many fandoms but i like hollow knight, inmost, lethal company, terraria, bramble the mountain king, and ive recently gotten into heartstopper (in other words i began watching it with my more or less heartstopper-obsessed cousin, she is very sweet and yes i think the show is pretty cute too). other than that, im gonna watch more horror movies and series as that's what i write too.

(DNI is very small. do not interact with me if your intentions have anything to do with sex. thats it. i am SEVERELY sex-repulsed and will be triggered by anything that society has made sexual. its easier in text but for the fucking love of god do not send me pictures.)

now, onto the content:

Content:

writing snippets

aspec posting

stories and poems

a little bit of venting/storytime/complaining

talking to ma homies

a little bit of art

a series of writing snippets called "new/out of context quotes and quips"

probably something else i forgot

(also the reason i dont have a venting blog is bcuz hot topic i think ill keep everything in one place cuz im one person and i feel different things lmfao (yes i am also surprised by the fact that i have emotions apparently))

now a masterlist of my writing:

Novels and works-in-progress (AKA everything i write):

My main novel series, Broken Promises, currently contains ten novels:

Breached Containment

Twisted Betrayal

The Final Hunt

The Madman's Strive

Broken Strings (AKA Bring Us To Life)

Pinky Promise?

Too Late

Welcome To My Mind

BACKWARDS

A Last Promise

and here's the main characters, main cast and the main side characters:

Ambrose Blackthorne

Ace Dawn

Caleb Whitlock

Dylan Hunter

Jason Godfrey

Juan Moreno

The Shadow Reaper (he has a name but its revealed in the seventh novel so im waiting with it)

Zafirah Satar

Kierce Cadell

Joseph Clayton

Blake Campbell

Steven Zhai

Ashley

Silly Sally

James Forest

Phoenix Loughty

Rahmah Abdullah Aziz

Rick Davis

Zane Hawklum

Gabriella Roseware

Alicia Wood

Rose Andersson

Eleanor Dawn

Michael Godfrey

(there are probably a lot more that are either family to the mcs or minor side characters, so im not including them here)

other than that, i have a few standalones that i work on every now and then:

Misplaced Faith

One Last Time (AKA Your Memory Will Live On Forever)

That's Me

GOD

Missing 4II

DRAMA (with my cousin as a co-author)

Blades of Rose (with several co-authors, including @ang3lic-t3ars and @daredevil-arty)

We All Eventually Drown (with one co-author)

then, of course, i have a bunch of smaller projects, most of them related to my novel series:

The Solic AKA the new bible

GUTS AND GLORY - a collection of every gory scene in BP

Realms of Selinc - A Beastiary

Memories On Paper - a collection of every letter/hand-written text in BP

A whole lot of music. just a doc named Music

The Anomalies, the start of a horror skit yt channel

PHOBIA, a video game that im not working on at the moment

I Was Born With A Gift - a prologue to the animation channel where I will animate my novel series on streams and such

All of the Darkrimm, Lumancyid included (hell and heaven lore)

A bunch of rituals. Do Not Question

Two D&D campaigns, one a homebrew and the other just. heaven and hell from BP (the novel series)

And since im extremely bored ill make an ask game so yall can ask me abt stuff (mostly the writing i gotta get more active in that)

have me tell you about one of my novels/works

ask about a character

ask about something you've seen in a snippet (specify)

wait actually you could just ask yourself from what youve seen and then ask extra info if youre curious about something

yeah acc just know my inbox is open for absolutely everything except stuff that goes against my DNI so u go ask stuff homies and thats it

well thats all i had to say so buhbyeee

#masterpost #pinned #blog info #writeblr info #writeblr #writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #artblr #thoughts from the abyss

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eating-plastic · 1 year

Text

Away from the Campfire: Ace Visconti x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: NSFW, smut (MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI), age gap (older man-younger woman. Reader is +18! Be gone creeps!), AFAB!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex (life ain’t a fic, people! Wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, slight praise, begging, daddy kink, lots of pet names (kiddo, angel, sweetheart, just to name a few), dom! Ace, sub!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader, slow burn, swearing, all of the typical dbd warnings so violence, pain, angst, all that jazz, comfort, some fluff, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 6458 words

A/N: Whelp, here it is! My second oneshot and my first smut! If you knew me, you’d be surprised I waited this long to write something nsfw lol. I don’t know how this is gonna be received considering no one touched my Bill headcanons. I guess the dbd fandom just isn’t that big of fans of old men. Eh, it’s an acquired taste. I do just write these for myself anyway. Still, if anyone does find this, I hope you have a nice day! Remember to drink some water and take a break every now and again!

-----------------------

You’ve always been a quiet person. Always keeping to yourself, not talking to many people, and honestly just fading into the background. Even now, being in an inescapable hell where you were forced to do the same task over and over again with someone or something trying to kill you, you never really befriended any of your fellow survivors outside of trials. At least in the beginning you didn’t.

No matter how one of your fellow survivors acted towards you around the campfire, they always tried to help you during trials as long as you were trying. In the beginning, there were a few survivors that even would “baby” you, whether it was because you were new to this realm, or the fact that you were one of the few younger survivors, or a combination of both. Still, as you got the hang of trying to survive in one of the many different environments you were thrown into during a trial and many began to stop keeping such a close eye on you, there was one that always kept you close.

To be honest, you were not the biggest fan of Ace when you first arrived to the Entity’s realm. You thought he was arrogant, egotistical, and willing to put his own survival over that of others. Anytime he would open his mouth in-between trials to tell tales about his life before “all of this”, you would try to ignore every word that came out of his mouth or even go for a walk. The walks were always preferable since you enjoyed walking by yourself before arriving in what you could only describe as hell. That was until you had your first trial with him.

As soon as the Yamaoka Estate came into view, you followed the same routine of looking for a generator to work on or a crate for supplies. While you rummaged around, a familiar voice came from behind you.

“Hey, there you are kiddo.”

You had rolled your eyes and closed the chest in frustration. Empty. Ace smirked at your annoyance before he walked up to you.

“Lemme help you with that,” he said, lifting the lid of the chest and moving his hand around in its dark interior. “Aha, there we go.”

He removed his hand to present a toolbox. Your eyes had widened in shock. You could’ve sworn the chest was empty! Ace once again smirked at your reaction.

“They don’t call me a lucky bastard for nothing. Here, take it. It’ll be more useful in your hands anyway,” he held the box towards you, and you hesitantly took it. You had then nodded in appreciation.

“Stick with me, kid. We’ll get through this easy.”

You hadn’t really wanted to follow Ace, once again worried that he was going to ditch you to save himself. Still, it was going to make repairing generators easier, especially with your toolkit. So you nodded and followed him.

-----------------------

“You really don’t talk much, huh kiddo,” Ace said while he worked on the last generator that needed to be repaired. You didn’t respond, just wanting to continue working on the task at hand. Besides, you never would respond when someone would ask a question like that.

“Heh, I stand corrected.”

After the generator was completed , Ace let out a noise of triumph and began to compliment you, until a scream had cut him off. You both had looked towards the sky and saw the Entity’s claws dragging one of your teammates upwards.

“Shit, I guess that’s our invitation to leave. Run towards the gate, kid. I’ll be right behind ya.”

You nodded, before you did as you were told.

-----------------------

As soon as you arrived at the gate, you had looked behind you but Ace was nowhere to be seen. You had opened your mouth to call out for him but stopped. You turned back to open the gate and stood in its entryway. The campfire called to you, telling you to just run and leave another one of many trials behind, but you couldn’t. Your eyes continued to scan your surroundings. You didn’t know how long you had waited for Ace before hesitantly backing up and turning to just run out of there.

When you arrived at the campfire, you began to feel guilt twisting in your gut. It was odd. Sure, you had originally not liked Ace but you weren’t a monster. No one at the campfire deserved what goes on during the trials. You took your seat away from everyone that was waiting around by the flickering firelight. After a few moments passed, the sound of footsteps added to the idle chatter of some of your fellow survivors.

“Whew! I am way too old to be running around like that,” Ace plopped himself down next to you, which causes you to tense up at first. That was until he had asked you a question.

“You got out, okay?” he asked, looking at you with concern. Huh, that’s new.

You nodded and you couldn’t help but let a small smile break out on your lips.

“Good. You did a nice job out there, kid,” he smiled and squeezed your shoulder, before getting up to “entertain” the rest of the survivors.

That was the first thing he did that told you how you had misjudged him.

-----------------------

The second time Ace had proved how much you misjudged him, was when he had rescued you from a hook.

Halfway through the trial, you had taken it upon yourself to loop the current killer, the trapper, in order to bid enough time for the last generator to be repaired and the gate to open. Unfortunately for you, your legs had begun to give out, providing him enough time to down you. At that point, you had already checked out. Your teammates were safe, and that was all that mattered. You didn't even feel the hook dive itself into your shoulder. Not really. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp impale of the Entity’s tendrils into your body.

That pain never came, though. In fact, you had felt the sensation of your legs moving. You opened your eyes, confused. You could see the gate coming closer and you could hear a voice right by your ear.

“-most there. Come on, kiddo, keep moving.”

Wait, Ace? What was he still doing here? You thought everyone had left. You hoped that they all had left.

No time to think about that, though. You had to keep running. The next thing you knew, your exhaustion had lessened and the campfire was coming into view. You slowed your legs to a stop. Ace had let out a laugh of triumph.

“Ha! We made it! Shit! I mean-I knew we’d mak-!”

“You saved me?” your soft voice stopped the older man dead in his tracks.

“Well I’ll be damned. She speaks,” he quipped. You cocked your head to the side, waiting for an answer.

“Come on, kid. You didn’t think I was gonna leave you behind, did you?”

You just shrugged. You would’ve been fine if your teammates left you. You did your part to keep them safe, after all.

“Just don’t do that again, kay? I nearly had a heart attack trying to find you.”

You had opened your mouth to say something, but Ace was already at the campfire talking with the others. This caused you to huff in frustration. You had wanted to keep talking to him, but not with everyone else around.

Oh well. You were going to get your chances soon.

------------------------

You were sitting by the shore of a lake. The campfire had many walking trails around it, and the one you had taken led you here. It was nice. You wanted to be alone at the moment, away from the firelight and prying eyes of others.

When you had first been murdered by one of the killers, a move that the others called “mori”, you were surprised. No one warned you about that. Apparently it was a bit of a rarity. Still, some of them weren’t that bad. At least, when compared to being sacrificed to the Entity. That was until you were “moried” by the onryo. Who could blame you for being shaken up afterwards? You had your limbs painfully broken and you were left to slowly die. When you walked by the campfire to be alone, all of the survivors still acted the same as always. Did they act the same way after going through something so agonizing? Were you just acting like a baby? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you felt like your limbs didn’t belong to you. You could still feel the phantom sensations of them being broken, but when you looked down they were normal.

You couldn’t get it out of your mind. The sound of the crickets and the tide of the lake couldn’t help. You had soon felt tears welling up in your eyes and your body began to shake. You curled yourself up into a ball and began to sob. It felt like utter hopelessness was slowly crushing your body, slowly constricting your chest like a large python. You began to regret not sticking by the campfire. Would it have made you feel better? Would the conversations have been better?

The sound of crushing leaves caused your sobs to get caught in your throat. Your lip quivered as you tried to stop crying. You didn’t want to look so childish in front of one of your fellow survivors, hence why you walked off to be alone as you figured you were going to cry.

“That you, kid?” a voice called before walking towards you. You hid your face in your knees and took deep breaths to try and stop sobbing. You even took your bottom lip in-between your teeth and bit down hard to try and stop its shaking.

Ace took a seat right next to your shaking form. Slowly, he brought his hand to your back and began to rub circles into it. If you were to have told yourself when you first arrived that you and Ace would become unlikely...”friends”, if that was the right word, you would’ve thought you were completely insane. That didn’t matter, though. You were happy he was here and you showed it by leaning into him.

“I, uh...I heard what happened,” he began. Ace really did try so damn hard to think of what to say to you. He has never had to deal with something like this before, but he didn’t want to fuck it all up and say the wrong thing. He liked you, although he wasn’t sure just how much yet. Ever since he heard about you and your quiet, timid nature, he wanted to protect you when he could. Did it seem out of character for him, sure, but he didn’t give a shit. Especially since he had managed to get you to at least speak a couple of sentences to him.

“Look...I’m sorry you went through that...you can continue to cry if you want to,” you moved your head to look at him with your puffy, red, eyes. At the sight of your broken face, Ace stopped rubbing your back to wrap his arm around your shoulder to pull you close to him. With that, you continued to cry until you couldn’t anymore.

With all of your tears shed and all you were able to do was sniffle from time to time, you and Ace just sat there together in silence. That was until a thought entered the older man’s head.

“Hey, you wanna know what this reminds me of?” he asked. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side, your silent way of saying “what?”.

“There was this one time I had to lie low for a bit. I had, uh, rented an RV and was on a lake just like this. It’s...it’s interesting just how quiet it all is, you know. I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I just wanted to get back into the game as soon as I could...but, it really is nice.”

You nodded at his words and rubbed your arm. Slowly, your limbs started to feel like they belonged to you again.

“I also befriended a raccoon, too.”

You pulled away from Ace to look at him confused, and he laughed at your reaction.

“I was sitting just like where I am now, when...,” he trails off and spinned you this tale that you were pretty sure was 90% fake, but that didn’t matter. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and it worked. By the time the tale had concluded, you had a large smile on your face and Ace had even managed to pull a few giggles from you. You both soon found yourselves sitting in silence once more, but this time it was comforting and all thoughts about the previous trial had been pushed to the back of your mind.

“Whelp kiddo, what do ya say we start heading back? Everyone’s probably worrying about us,” Ace stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, but decided to do something unexpected when he pulled you up.

You hugged him.

You threw your arms around him, and hugged him.

“Thank you,” you quietly murmured into his chest. Ace slowly moved his arms to wrap them around you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hug you, but at the moment he was trying to understand the odd feeling swirling in his chest.

“Yeah, uh...don’t mention it,” he said. God, why was his chest feeling so weird. You pulled away and smiled up at him and that was the moment that he connected the dots. “Uh...you go on ahead, kiddo. I’ll...I’ll catch up.”

You looked at him confused, but you had just assumed that he wanted to reminisce about his old life. You didn’t blame him, so you just nodded and turned to walk back to the campfire.

As soon as you were out of sight, Ace sat back down in front of the lake once more. He pulled his sunglasses from his face to rub it.

Love. He was in love with you. Had he felt that way for you all this time? He certainly didn’t know. Especially since he had never been in love with anyone before. He let out a deep breath before muttering the only phrase he could think of after this revelation.

“Fuck.”

-------------------------

“Hey Ace, you awake in there or what?” Ash shook his friend after he didn’t respond to his question. Ace quickly put on a mask that resembled his usual smug self.

“Yeah, I’m just in awe that you can even come up with a question,” he smirked.

“Oh ha ha, fuck you. I asked you why you’re being so quiet? You’ve been hanging out with Y/N too much, she’s starting to rub off on you,” Ash quipped, but he was actually a bit wrong. Ace had been avoiding you a bit. He still looked out for you during trials, but he had found himself sitting near the lake more often. He really didn't know what to do after he discovered that he was in love with you. How could he? First of all, he didn’t even know how to tell you. He’s hardly ever had to tell someone that he loved them. For the most part, Ace would’ve always just said it when he wanted something. He had usually never loved them. The second thing was how you would respond. Ace had no problems flirting with men and women alike and had no problems when someone would get disgusted by his action or even slap him, but this was different. Those were all men and women that he was never going to see again or care about, so it didn’t matter. You were someone he liked to be around, someone he cared about, and he did not want you to think of him as a “disgusting old pervert” or something.

“Yep, I lost you again. You know it’s getting boring entertaining the guests by myself,” Ash joked before he got up and made his way to where a large group of survivors were hanging out, listening to Kate as she plucked away at her guitar strings.

Ace sighed before he got up and made his way towards the lake like always. He had to figure something out, especially since Ash had started to notice. And if Ash could notice that something was off, then everyone else probably could too. He was letting the cocky mask of his slip too much. It would only be a matter of time before you-

“Um, Ace?”

God damnit.

Your slow footsteps approached him. He was right, you had noticed a change in him. And so you followed him to the lake, wanting to be a good friend and try to know what was wrong even if you didn’t know what to say.

“What can I do for ya, sweetheart?” like with Ash, the mask went up. Ace had been experimenting a bit. Testing out different pet names with you. It was his way of dipping his toes in the water. To see if you would get uncomfortable with his light flirting. So far, you hadn’t shown any signs of discomfort.

“I, um...I hope you don’t mind but...I overheard you and Ash. I guess I just saw it as...I mean...I just want to see if you’re okay that’s all...,” you glanced down at your feet. Well that could’ve gone better.

“Psh, what? Me? When am I not okay?” he smirked at you, but you clearly weren’t buying his words. “Aw, come on angel, don’t worry about me so much. Shouldn’t you be worried about your pretty, little self?”

Your face began to heat up. You loved his compliments and pet names. Well, when he had first called you “sweetheart” it had made you tense up a bit, but now they made your heart flutter. You didn’t have many experiences with men, but you’ve never met a man who was charming and made you feel as Ace did. Especially one as old as him. It was odd, but you were certainly not going to tell him. Not just because you would be mortified if you had to, but also because after all your time with Ace, there was a sliver in your mind that told you not to trust him. You could picture a situation in which you built up the courage to tell him that you were falling for him, only to get laughed at and told that he just felt bad for you. A quiet, childish, little coward that cries after experiencing something all of the other survivors were seasoned to.

“Hey now, what’s that look, beautiful?” Ace closed the distance between you and him after seeing your face drop. “I don’t mind you worrying about lil’ ol’ me. It’s kinda cute.”

You shook your head. You felt a nauseating combination of wanting to cry and be sick. Jeez, you got way too lost into your own head. Ace took a deep breath before he raised his hand to your face to gently stroke it.

“Hey...hey Y/N, it’s okay. Come on, what’s wrong?” you just lowered your head. Was this a joke? Was it always a joke? Saving you, risking his skin for you, comforting you, calling you all sorts of sweet names, this? Was it all just pity? Ace just continued stroking your cheek and looking at your sorrowful face, thinking hard about what he wanted to say. “Hey, how ‘bout this: you tell me what’s wrong and...I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me, huh?”

You fiddled with your fingers and drew a shaky breath.

“Is this a joke?” you asked, finally raising your watery eyes to look at him. You tried to stay strong.

“What are you talking about,” he moved his hand to brush some of your hair out of your face but you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Is it all a joke? The names, the comfort, the...the affection...is it all just one big joke...? Ace...is it all just you feeling bad for me?”

“I...what makes you think that?” was someone telling you this? How could you think that him testing the waters of your unlikely friendship, trying to see if he really could actually make it a meaningful relationship, as him just playing a joke on you? Was it because of him telling you his history? Someone else who didn’t like him just trying to look out for you? Was it the realm slowly breaking you?

“I...I just want to know...”you said, not breaking the gaze you had with Ace. You figured that if you could be strong during a trial, then you could be strong during this.

“You’re...you’re really gonna make me rip the band-aid off, huh?”

Here it comes, you thought. He doesn’t love me. He never could’ve loved me. I’m just an idiot-

“You know that I’ve been trying to tell you that I love you, right?”

Wait, what?

“You know that’s why I’ve been avoiding you? Why I’ve been hurling pet name after pet name at you?”

You tried to speak, but all you could get out were stuttered phrases.

“When I found you here, shaken up by that bad trial, that's when I realized it...and ever since then I’ve wanted to tell you that I love you but I didn’t know how to get it out and I was worried you’d think that I was a gross perv or something...so there. That’s why I care about you so much. That’s why I’ve been trying to be there for you but avoid you at the same time. I don’t know why you think that I don’t actually care about you, or who told you, but stop believing it, okay. Because I love you, Y/N. Okay? I love you so Goddamn much.”

You just continued to stare at Ace. You truly couldn’t believe it. Your eyes had long since dried. Was this real?

“Really?” your soft voice broke the silence.

“Do I need to prove it? Because I’ll prove it.”

“Wha-no no, I...I jus-”

“Nope! I need to prove it, so I will. Come here, angel,” not one to be serious for too long, Ace pulled you into his arms and even managed to lift your feet off of the ground. You squealed and even began to giggle as he tried to spin you.

“Okay! O-Okay...I get it,” you said in-between your laughing fit.

Once Ace put your feet back on the ground, he tilted your face to look at him.

“So, what do ya say, beautiful? You, uh...you wanna try this out?”

You smiled and nodded, eagerly.

You didn’t even think about how the others would think about the relationship. How some of them would flash you two odd or even disgusted looks because of the age difference or how comfortable Ace quickly proved to be with PDA, but that didn’t matter. You would quickly find that his confidence and silver tongue would be enough to drown out those looks or comments.

-----------------------

“Now, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?” Ace says while approaching you. You glance up at him and shrug.

This lake now had so much meaning to the both of you that it was hard to not smile when you were near it. Not only that, but it has become your own private love nest with him.

Ace sits down next to you and pulls you close to him, causing you to rest your head on his shoulder. He then removes his sunglasses and puts them in his jacket pocket. You always enjoyed when he would remove them. You truly couldn’t get enough of his dark eyes.

“It’s been a pretty easy day,” he remarks, referring to the lack of trials performed. “I hope we get more of them.”

“You don’t think that’s jinxing it?” you ask.

“When have I ever been a jinx?”

Well, he had you there. You had to agree, though. The lack of trials was welcomed, and you wanted more of them. You just shrug and smile at him. Ace smiles back at you and glances down to your lips.

“God damn, angel,” he raises his hand up to tilt your chin up to him. “You look beautiful in the moonlight.”

It didn’t matter that this was the nth compliment he’s ever given you. It still made you feel sheepish and small in his arms, but in a good way. Your body begins to feel warm as he leans forwards to kiss you. You melt and kiss him back.

You get lost in the kiss, even as you feel his hand move from your face to your waist. You quickly tense up though, when you feel the hand move upwards under your shirt. Upon feeling your body going rigid, Ace pulls away to inspect your face. He swiftly removes his hand when he sees a bit of nervousness in your eyes.

“Sorry,” he mutters while trying to move away, but your hand on his stops him.

“It...it’s fine. I-I want...,” you look away. You do want this, it’s just that such intimacy always made you a bit skittish. You’ve had very little relationships before, well, here, and even though you’ve had sex while in these relationships, you were always apprehensive the first time. There is a lot of trust that goes into it, and you always fear about that trust being broken. Not to mention the fact that the idea of trying to initiate sex made you feel embarrassed.

“Do you want me to continue?” Ace asks. He moves his hand back to your face to stroke your cheek. You melt at the feeling.

“Yes,” you breathe out. He nods before moving closer to you and resuming the kiss. His hand also goes back under your shirt.

The feeling makes you sigh, which gives Ace the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. As soon as it begins to dance with yours, you feel a familiar warmth spread in-between your legs, and you squeeze your thighs together in order to try and relieve it.

Next, you move your hands to remove Ace’s hat and run your fingers through his hair. His hands work to hold you close to him and to grope your body underneath your clothes. Soon, he moves his hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it before moving under your bra to play with it properly.

He then breaks the kiss with you, and moves his lips from yours to your jaw, and then your neck. The feeling of his facial hair scratching your neck makes you squirm and deepen your breathing.

Both of his hands are under your shirt and your bra now, groping both of your breasts and rolling your nipples in-between his fingers. the feeling causes you to pant and whine. You need to relieve the desire of having some sort of friction against your clothed, wet pussy. You move to try and straddle Ace, thinking that he was too distracted with sucking the most sensitive part of your neck, but you get pushed down to the ground and he moves to hover over you.

“Aw, what’s wrong angel?” he smirks. You are now unable to even rub your thighs together as his legs are now preventing yours from closing. You let out a needy whine, hoping he’d take the hint. “Ah, use your words sweetheart.”

“A-Ace...please...,” you whimper. Shame begins to eat away at you, preventing your desires to be voiced.

“Please, what? Come on babydoll, tell daddy what you want,” you feel your pussy clench around nothing at that. You have to swallow your shame to get what you want.

“Please...touch me, please,” your face feels like it’s on fire. Lucky, Ace decides to have mercy on you. He moves his hands from your shoulders to your shorts, undoing them.

“There, that wasn’t too hard now, was it?” he smirks. As soon as your shorts are undone, you lift your hips up enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You let out a squeak at the cool air hitting your sex, but still can’t close your legs thanks to Ace’s.

He slowly moves one of his hands down your body towards the place you need it most. Unfortunately for you, it seems he wants to tease you even more, moving his hand from your lower abdomen to your thigh, and then squeezing it. Just as you are about to let out a frustrated huff, you gasp as Ace moves his hand from your thigh to run his fingers through your wet folds.

“God damn, you’re soaked. This all because of me, beautiful?” he taunts. All you can do is nod. You bite your lower lip to keep moaning too loud, especially as he begins stroking your clit.

“Aw, come on, doll. Don’t you hide your pretty little voice from me,” he moves his head back to your neck. “Come on, let daddy hear you.”

With that, he continues to suck onto the same spot on your neck he was sucking on before. This drags a shaky moan from your lips, which causes him to hum in satisfaction.

After rubbing your clit and soaking his fingers in your slick, Ace decides to push one of his fingers inside of you. Your poor little clit didn’t get a break from his abuse, though, continuing to stroke it with his thumb, now.

You continue to moan at his ministrations of your body. The world of the Entity made it easy to forget that pleasure exists, but God was Ace helping you remember. Especially as he pushes another finger into your tight hole, scissoring them to help stretch you out.

It was all starting to be too much. Your cries grow in volume as you feel the familiar sensation like a coil tightening in your stomach. You try to form a coherent sentence to tell Ace about your approaching orgasm, but all that gets out is his name and your whimpers.

“You gonna cum, angel? Huh? You wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nod desperately as a response, causing him to chuckle. “Go on, babydoll. Go ahead, I’ll be nice.”

You continue to cry out, your moans building up and your toes beginning to curl. You throw your hands onto Ace’s shoulders in a frenzied attempt to find something to cling to, bracing yourself. That coil insides you gets tighter and tighter, until it finally snaps and you scream out in pleasure. Ace continues to stroke your clit and coo at you, working you through your orgasm.

Once you come down from your high, he pulls his fingers from your pussy to inspect them. They are completely drenched in your slick, even beginning to drip down to his palm. He smirks, before bringing his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking your juices from it, even moaning a bit as he does it. His actions make you squirm. You just came, and yet you’re getting turned on all over again.

“Damn sweetheart, you taste amazing,” Ace groans out, before getting an idea. “Here, you wanna try?”

He brings his hand close to your mouth, holding it out so you can see slick drip down the back of his hand. It felt like you weren’t even in control of your body as you lean up and drag your tongue upwards, lapping up whatever bit of your juices you could, a complete puppet to lust. A dragged out “fuck” left Ace’s lips at he watches you, wanting that little tongue of yours elsewhere. An event for another time.

After cleaning his hand, he moves them to his belt, undoing and pulling it free from his pants. The sight hypnotizes you and causes you to roll your bottom lip in-between your teeth. To Ace, you looked absolutely adorable. You look all fucked out and he hasn’t even put his cock in you, yet.

As soon as he gets his pants undone, he pulls them down enough for his hard length to spring out. He hisses just as you did from the cool air hitting his dick. He clears his throat and begins stroking it slowly, making sure your eyes are on him. Of course they were, you are mesmerized by his hand slowly jerking himself off, even letting out a needy whine. You needed him inside of you, now.

“You need something, babydoll?” Ace teases. Of course he wanted you to beg for it.

“F-Fuck...Ace...fuck me, please...,” you manage to get out in-between pants.

“Aw, okay. Since you asked so nicely,” he brings his cock to your drenched lips and strokes it in-between them, lubing it up with your slick.

You cry from your still sensitive pussy being touched and from the tip of his dick catching your entrance.

As soon as he felt that he was lubed up enough, Ace takes his length into his hand and lines it up to your wet little hole. Before pushing in though, he says your name, causing you to look up at him.

“If it hurts too much, you’ll tell me, right? I promise I’ll stop,” his voice was now serious, wanting you to understand what he was saying. You look up at him and nod.

“I will.”

With that, Ace gently pushes the tip of his cock into your pussy and your hands go back to his shoulders as before. He pushes in a bit more until you cry out in pain, stopping the older man in his tracks.

“Shit, you need me to stop?”

You nod, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes.

“Okay...okay. Just relax Y/N, I got you,” he moves his head to the crook of your neck to place kisses on every bit of skin he can get to, while one of his hands finds one of your breasts once more, this time dragging your shirt with it.

You take deep breaths, trying to relax your body and focus on Ace’s kisses and touch. As soon as the pain begins to subside, you tug on his arm.

“Ace...you c-can move now,” you pant.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Ace looks at your face to make sure you were ready, before continuing to push his dick all the way inside of you. As soon as his hips connect with yours, he stops to check on you.

You whine at the feeling of being so full, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You look into Ace’s eyes and shakily tell him to resume.

He nods down at you, adjusting himself on his forearms and beginning to shallowly thrust into you. You rest your head on the dead grass underneath it and let out a breathy moan from the sensation. Seeing that you were clearly okay, Ace’s demeanor returns to the same teasing one he had before.

“Fuck, you feel so good, angel. Mm, taking daddy’s cock so well.”

His words only add to the intoxicating feeling of his dick thrusting into you. It’s addicting, and you want more of it.

“Ah...ha-ah! Ace...m-more, please!” if you were to listen to your voice back, you wouldn’t believe that it was you. Shy and quiet you who always loved to fade into the background, now moaning loudly on an older man’s cock.

“Ha...yeah? You want more? Huh? My babydoll wants more?”

You nod and moan out a desperate “please”. Ace grants you your wish, not only thrusting into your pussy harder, but faster too. God, he wants everything about this burned into his memory, not just the way you feel, but how you look too. Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed, and lips parted, letting out loud, needy moans. Oh yeah, he wants to have your noises burned into his mind as well.

While continuing to thrust into you, he moves one of his hands down to your clit, stroking it with his thumb once more. You cry out at the added pleasure and arch your back upwards towards him, hands tightening on his shoulders and your hole tightening around his dick. That coil in your stomach had returned, and the tension in your gut was now growing from each thrust and stroke Ace was delivering to your body. Fuck, you definitely weren’t going to last much longer.

“Oh...mm-fuck! A-Ace-ha! Ah...‘m close!” you sob as white, hot pleasure flows through your veins.

“Yeah? Yo-you wanna cum, huh? Go on, then-fuck! Cum all over daddy’s cock, angel,” he moans out, clearly getting closer to cumming himself according to his groans and thrusts becoming sloppy.

Your toes begin to curl and tears of pleasure start to flow down your cheeks. Your moans become screams and your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Ace lets out a strangled “fuck” as you squeeze his dick, slowing his thrusts but not his assault on your clit, working you through your high as he did when he was fingering you.

You really didn’t want to come down from your high, especially when Ace started thrusting into you again, chasing his own orgasm. He only slows himself when he feels his cock twitch inside of you.

“Oh f-fuck...where-mm!” he struggles to get out, but you understand what he’s asking.

“I-In-oh God, Ace! In!”

With that, you feel a warmth beginning to fill you as he moaned loudly, cumming deep inside of you. After that, he buries his face into your neck, the only sounds now being that of crickets, the lake, and both of your pants. You both feel exhausted but blissed out of your minds.

Eventually, Ace pulls out of you and rolls onto his back besides you. Fuck, that was amazing. Not only because he hasn’t had sex in a while because of, well, you know, but also because it was sex that wasn’t for the purpose of just scratching an itch. No, what you two just did was miles better.

He turns his head to look at you. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is slowly going back to normal. He smiles at your sleepy expression and rolls onto his side to pull you to his chest. You let out a tired hum and nuzzle your face into Ace, while he rubs your back and holds you close.

“Rest up, beautiful. You deserve it.”

#dead by daylight #dbd #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #ace visconti #ace visconti x fem!reader #ace visconti x reader #x reader #rita writes

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nothingmatters-everythingmatters · 3 months

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H hi! Cis lesbian lurker on radfem spaces here. I think it's helping me "unlock" certain things within me, and Iooove reading people's rambles and make my own opinion of stuff, so I was wondering if you could give your 2 cents on qprs (the aro Ace thing)? I find your blog rlly friendly and interesting and I think it touches on a variety of topics so if be excited to hear your thoughts :3

hello! thank you for the ask!! happy as always to talk incessantly lol also highly appreciate an ask with a prompt of sorts, it's nice to be able to respond directly to a smaller subject rather than gather my own jumbled thoughts sometimes :p

it is going to be a pretty long one though... I do have far too many thoughts about aroace community talking points and reflections on my experiences with them. call it a symptom of being chronically online, I guess?

anyway, let's get into it!

so, as someone who did wayyy too much reading into qprs, and even attempted to "be" in one, I think my opinion, as of now, is that it's sort of another useless label (as many labels in the ace community tend to be, honestly). at its core, a qpr is just another sort of relationship that's entirely based on how the individuals in it define it as. similar to non-binary as a gender identity, it seems to basically just be a "non-normative" kind of take on a concept that already exists (in this case, that would be relationships for qprs, and gnc self-expression/fashion for non-binary). to me, there's no real point in having the term as a definition at all because it means... well, nothing. the official definition for a qpr is a non-romantic intimate relationship, but romance can mean fairly different things to many people and romantic norms differ between cultures and even generations, and intimacy can mean many things to many people! there's no point in having a shared definition for something that is already so variable because it's not like the original definition of what an "intimate relationship" or what "romance" is couldn't be interpreted in a way that works for the individual.

and it really ultimately shouldn't matter that much on how others perceive your relationship anyways, so picking out a special term (that you'd have to explain further anyways since very few people outside the community use it) is just, in my opinion, very unnecessary. just specifying the kind of relationship you're in, if people ask at all, would be much easier.

for example, some might say that defining qpr is important as they allow for a kind of relationship without romantic or sexual norms, but have a deeper and more committed connotation than what friendship simply is. but precisely because qpr is so malleable by definition (maybe it's life partnership with no sex, maybe it's romantic gestures but no sexual ones, maybe it's living apart while being committed with some romantic behavior like kissing, maybe it's just being platonic but cuddling, maybe it's--you get the point) it's just not "easier" to communicate what a qpr means/is than it is to define your relationship as a relationship with x and y kind of features.

plus, qprs end up implying that there is a "normal" way for committed relationships to be, instead of accepting the fact that what a relationship looks like can be very different for many people, and that doesn't mean it's some kind of secret special third relationship thing but it's just natural variation to how people behave? and you can just have those discussions without pretending it's comparable to same-sex attracted communities because you made up a label and it's technically not "heteronormative"... even if it is quite literally hetereosexual in many cases.... I've literally never understood this, if the idea is to combate "amatonormativity" or other societal expectations of what relationships look like, why not "normalize" relationships outside of this constructed norm and expand the cultural awareness of what these existing definitions could look like instead of for some reason differentiating it further and thus cementing the dominance of these "normative" attitudes.

now for a silly personal anecdote to share my experience with qprs!

during a supreme lapse of personal judgment and a very shitty self-isolating mindset, when I was identifying as aroace, I ended up "agreeing" to try a qpr with a guy (self-identified he/they nonbinary and on the ace spectrum at the time), which ultimately was just a situationship-esque thing where he wanted to do more sexual things and I, in my unfortunately low self-esteem at the time, let it go a bit too much past my boundaries, doing things I really regret (luckily, only in a way that makes me cringe and fortunately not further than that, but it was definitely an unwise and risky place to put myself in)

not that I was really free of blame though, I think I agreed to it in the first place because I wanted a way to stave off loneliness without having to commit, and I did feel bad for him due to some relatable childhood trauma moments. alas, it obviously didn't go well, and I feel like if I didn't adhere so strongly to the picturesque ideal of a qpr being understandable to all parties I would have a) been aware enough of my own motives to not get involved in something complicated and b) at least cared more about actually examining my wants and boundaries to not let an arbitrary niche micro-label define those things for me.

(there's also just so much garbage surrounding my mindset at the time and I was pretty deep into TRA ideology anyway so it... just was not a good addition to a preexisting ego trashfire)

in fact, I do think part of the issue I have with qprs definitionally and general aroace community things is this kind of "romanticism" of making things complicated and uniquely labelled. it's not enough to just have a low libido or not like sex in certain ways or dislike aspects of romance, it HAS to be an identity of some sorts. and it HAS to be an identity, because it's way more unique and more trendy and makes you feel more special, especially if you live a fairly privileged life in a western country anyways. now you can talk about how awful it is that people don't understand qprs and "discriminate" against you (even though the whole point is that qprs are ambiguous? idk the logic gets really tiring to break down. no wonder ace discourse is the way that it is... it's just circles and circles of semantics and ego)

alright alright saltiness around microlabels aside, I guess my overall point can really just be boiled down to: it's a nothing definition so I wonder why it matters at all, and taking it too seriously just leads to unneeded confusion.

I hope that long-winded (and slightly vitriolic, sheesh, I did not know I was that peeved at qprs as a concept lmao) ramble provides some kind of interesting insight! more aroace ramblings are simply inevitable on this blog, even for the brief time I was in that identity I feel like it really impacted the way I thought of myself and others so on reflection there's a lot to unpack.

(this is also reminding me I still have a copy of Ace by Angela Chen, and I never did end up finishing that book before I fully peaked in both gender and the "queer community" so...might be interesting to revisit!)

(also just as a footnote I know qprs have some implication and relation to polyamory as well, and I both do not have the experience or knowledge of those spaces to really comment on how they work, but there's definitely plenty of that online, I'm sure. at least from what I've seen, it does seem to be more of "making life more complicated for very little reason and has more to do with attention seeking and a shaky sense of self and judgement" but it's not something I'll comment on with any kind of expertise ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

thanks again anon for the ask! I hope your lurking journey continues to be fruitful !!

#myo is rambling.#qpr critical #ace discourse #myo lore drop btw :p #I debate with myself sometimes how embarrassing I'll let myself be with my self-reflection #but I think learning experiences are valuable enough to ruminate on so... here we are #queerplatonic relationship #responding to asks.

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bbbexe · 1 year

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MINORS DNI

I can't draw digital to save my life, so I made my monster!Poppet oc Kalix, traditional. (I have been diagnosed with Vinnel brainrot, there sadly is no cure. Also I didn’t make this species, its heavily based off of a creature from game I used to play called a Kivarok) Their main fur color is black, with the shaded in parts being a really really dark purple. Their horns and claws are orange with a yellow gradient at the top/end. Similarly, their diamond patterns are orange, and get more yellow that further they are away from their torso. They have 7 white eyes on each side (on the front view i forgot to add one pair you did not see that, nothing is wrong :'))) ) that they can close individually. Will usually close all but their two main ones to not look 'weird' or have people feel like they're staring at them. Kalix's eyes also don't usually have pupils, but they consciously make pupils so that, along with their exaggerated body language/movement, speech, and gesticulation, their emotions can be read more easily while masking in public. Pupils are orange. The first three diamond patterns on Sir are eyes, one being a light yellow color, and the others becoming white. Their eyes / horns / patterns / claws have a slight glow. Has four arms in total. (maybe one day i'll have the urge to try and draw on ibis paint) Kalix's blood is orange :). They also have a mouth on their main head, but really really don't want to scare people they want to be friends with, and keeps it closed and hidden for the most part. They are 6'0 because I wish I was tall :').

I've been completely obsessed with @eldritch-spouse's universe for the past few days and just had to make this. I love love love her writing and really suggest you check out her blog if you like yanderes and monsters >:D Under the cut is some of my oc's info if anyone is interested :D (it's a lot of rambling lol)

Tw mentions of cannibalism and other illegal stuff.

“Nothing can last forever. There isn't any memory, no matter how intense, that doesn't fade out at last.” ― Juan Rulfo This is Kalix! (Named them this purely because the word makes my brain happy) They are a young adult monster, who suffers from loneliness brain damage! With symptoms that are very similar to ADHD. They forget what day of the week it is often, forget words mid conversation, and have a shit short term memory. Often forgets to eat and has a habit of not eating until their tail-head starts to nip/chew (omnomnom) at them. Will constantly loose things, even if they are currently holding said thing in their paw. Brings noise cancelling earbuds around and wears gloves because they are touch averse. Usually has one part of their body moving, leg bopping, playing with their fingers, etc. (heavily projecting here lol, they just like me fr) Are a residual hermaphrodite who flip flops between sex depending on temperature/season (has a slit covered by their fluff) and goes by all pronouns. Demi ace/aro (hahaha slowburn + oblivious to their own feelings, have fun with that Vinnel). Has a hard time understanding sarcasm and understanding their own feelings.

Kalix's tail has been named "Sir" as they thought the word was cool. They usually eat / drink using their head-tail. Sir is Kalix's subconscious/lizard brain, though they don't seem to realize that themself, thinking the tail-head as more of a sibling/pet. (and example for the subconcious/lizard brain thing being, Kalix stubbing their toe, wincing and making a joke, Sir whimpering and getting teary like the crybaby they secretly are) They can consciously control Sir for about 30 minutes before a headache starts cracking open their skull (usually their species would be able to do this all the time, but shhh don't tell the poor child, they'll cry). While talking through Sir, Kalix can mimic many many sounds / voices. It would honestly be easier to list what they can't mimic than what they can. They do have a tell though, as when they speak through Sir, they have a slight whisper echo. Also sadly because of brain injury, they can't cut off Sir's senses from their own. Wagging their tail super fast like a dog when excited / to stim will leave make them super dizzy. Sir also has a taste for human/monster flesh :))) Has some other abilities, like being able to store stuff in their shadow (they do this more often and don't get nauseous from it unless they try to fit a bigger object inside. Kalix usually makes it look like they're pulling stuff out from their chest fluff becuse i thought that would be silly), make shadow apparitions for a limited amount of time, wrap themselves in shadows to hide or stalk their 'prey', and if they really push themself, they can teleport through shadows (within a certain range etc.) at most two times a week. They feel nauseous and get headaches after this, and using their power too often/long or trying to store large objects will make them violently ill. (won't stop the dumbass from overusing their abilities to pull pranks on The Clergymen though) Has little physical strength (for a monster at least), although they can jump pretty high when spooked (hehe get it? halloween pun :> also foreshadowing~) Speaking of Halloween, it's one of Kalix's main hyperfixations. Their hyperfixations include: Halloween, (and by extension) candy making, horror book reading, driving (although ironically if Kalix is a passenger they get extremely car sick), juggling (picks this up after they see Vinnel do it and realize 1. its a fun way to stim and 2. they have four arms. they are terrible at first), baking (which is kinda funny cuz they cannot cook for shit), insect related stuff, (piss poor) sewing, and drawing (they usually like to draw stuff with the combination of gore and plants).

Always has candy corn on them (or it seems that way, it’s just in their shadow. Kalix likes how it looks like they can just summon candy corn out of nowhere).

Also do not let them drive. They will turn it into a car chase. Somehow. (They just like slamming into the cars chasing them and showing off their drifts and sharp turns) They work as a party planner / decorator and will practically beg on their knees to Admin to help decorate for the holidays, especially Halloween. (Admin will have to wrangle them during other holidays to make sure Kalix doesn’t start making them Halloween themed as well...

”Decorate your own apartment Easterween themed, Kalix...” cue Admin’s signature tired eye roll as Kalix gives the smaller human puppy dog eyes) After they learn The Clergy has rent able rooms, they'll definitely start living there. Kalix's room will be completely Halloween themed all year long. They'll also ask Admin if they can help out around the Clergy / help them (Kalix feels bad for Admin and all their responsibilities, but also thinks they're amazing for being so focused and hard working)

Kalix is a complete virgin, having not even touched themself because again, they see Sir as a ‘pet’ or sibling sort of, only that Sir is attached to them. Kalix always chalks up Sir’s similar reactions to them as both them and Sir having grown up together.(if this sentence makes sense? basically they chalk up Sir having similar reactions to how they feel inside to just them growing up being attached to each other) Also them denying full heartedly that they are a crybaby and that they like the taste of human/monster flesh. To be honest, after a few months of being around Kalix, The Clergymen will probably pick up on Sir being more connected to Kalix than the oblivious lizard (idk why but my nickname for them is lizard despite them looking like some lizard/cat/owl/spider mix. it just fits. also all the picures of cute dumb little geckos connect with Kalix in my mind) realizes. Although Kalix sure as hell won’t realize themself, and won’t have any kind of sexual interaction with anyone while under the impression that Sir is a pet. Someone’s gonna have the explain the them eventually or Vinnel might somehow go even more insane. (is a sadist masochist switch with a gore kink, though it'll take alot for them to admit it (or it would have if not for Kalix's first meeting with Grimbly and realizing they did not want to be a daddy/mommy/partner to the little dude, just a friend) Oh, and before i forget. Kalix unironically eats the most burned, charred, barely edible, can-barely-be-considered-food stuff. Completely unscathed. And they like it. They will eat coal (burning or not) in front of people occasionally to see their confused/grossed out/horrified reactions / to assert dominance. They're Vinnel's poppet for a reason :))))

They lived most of their life alone and when they were gracefully given a year long vacation by their warden, Kalix decided to try and make friends by integrating themself into human society. (Most others where they live avoid them/are afraid of them or occasionally someone will pity them but Kalix really dislikes that and would rather be ignored.) They stumbled upon The Clergy's Eye while stuck in a daydream / thought loop of how they were going to make friends. Going over the persona they had crafted (aka how they were going to mask the anxious, lonely, self conscious, and quiet crybaby they really are) and generally practicing conversations in their head. They were trying to go to the town's most popular bar, but ended up walking into The Clergy's Main floor / bar area (if im not mistaken). Kalix is just about able to handle being around Santi’s / and others pheromones due to years of exposure therapy (not a demon of my sort, will make sense in next post i prommy). (Ima make another post about how they met the TCE staff for the first time because this is hella long, thank you so much for reading if you made it this far. I hope you enjoyed my super self indulgent skrunkly child. I also left some stuff out that I really want to show via my writing later on :D)

#tw cannibalism #Kalix oc #my ocs #rambling #eldritch spouse #also sorry if I wrote anything ooc D:#I keep going back to add things I forgot #oh my god my poor brain

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aprofessionalwithoutstandards · 1 year

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On the topic of fem fortress, I agree and disagree. For the record I fall under the trans umbrella myself as well and I used the have the same opinion. You are entitled to your opinion of course but calling gender swapped art transphobic is a little too much. My problem with gender swapped art is if they make the female version without wrinkles or without the same body type. If you want to draw the mercs as trans that is totally fine and awesome but again calling people transphobic for drawing vid versions of characters sounds like a little bit of projection no offence. If someone were to draw me as a gender swapped version of me as cis personally I wouldn’t care. And again I’m only talking for me here but calling someone transphobic over something as small as this is taking away from actually transphobia that us real living people have to deal with. I don’t think I’ll change your mind and that’s ok with me. I hope you’ll at least consider this point of view. Love your blog and I hope you have a nice day.

Anon I genuinely do not want to be mean but like. do you know how to read? Nowhere in that post do I say "all genderbent art is transphobic" and I specifically disclaim that I do NOT think that because I KNEW this was the kind of reaction I would get. I can't help but feel like you are either intentionally or unintentionally misrepresenting what I said in order to make my critique sound more outlandish and unreasonable and craaaaaazy and thus easier to disagree with than it is, which is something that Always fucking happens to me whenever I talk about transphobia as a trans person, biphobia as a bi person, racism as a Latino person, etc, someone misrepresenting my argument to make me look like an oversensitive "triggered" idiot for even daring to see bigotry in something "small". I understand that YOU might feel comfortable with people whose genderbent art is like "the thing that makes this character a man is that he was born with a penis and ascribes to all cis standards of 'masculinity' and the thing that makes my new genderbend a woman is that she was born with a vagina and ascribes to all cis standards of 'femininity'" but I don't! I would not want someone to "genderbend" me and make me cis! I do not think it "takes away from 'REAL' transphobia" (whatever that means, transphobia in media and fiction is still transphobia and still affects people in real life) to say that "associating the gender of a character with the 'biological sex' of that character is cissexist" and/or "showing that you have 'genderbent' a 'male' character by making them ascribe more heavily to 'female' beauty standards is not just transphobic but misogynistic" (MASSIVE FUCKING PROBLEM with "fem fortress" designs, since when is Medic tf2 thin and petite or since when does Sniper tf2 wear makeup and a crop top and since when do either of them not have any wrinkles), that's like. completely normal media critique. I know that a lot of my followers enjoy "fem fortress" and I have tried to be as nice as I can about my critiques of SOME VERSIONS of it because of this, but like you need to be able to take critique of things that you enjoy. Nowhere do I say "all genderbend art is transphobic" but it seems like people are rejecting that for "no genderbend art is transphobic" which is just objectively untrue. I enjoy tf2 and I am able to make and take critiques of it, especially things like its portrayal of women characters (or lack thereof), but not everyone can. I would like to be able to talk about misogyny, biphobia, racism, or transphobia within this game and/or its fandom just once without someone inevitably coming to tell me "it's not that bad and you're just overreacting". I guess I'm not saying you have to agree with me but maybe try actually listening to what I say and not knee-jerk react like this bc I lightly criticized something you enjoy (which I have even praised in other posts, wouldn't you know! I think fem fortress is fun!)

#again i'm not trying to be mean but like. no ur not going to change my mind i don't think you understood what i said at all #sorry if i sound really mad i just woke up. i'm glad u like my posts and i hope u stick around <3 #ask #anon #someone post 'did op really stop you from having fun or did they make a personal post on their own blog'#fem fortress

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castlebyersafterdark · 2 months

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you are never too sappy! (congrats btw! + big love to the mike to your will... i see that blue heart and height difference mention 😉) the balance works so well so far. like a little glimmer of you. especially as its always relevant through a byler prism, so youre not making it all about you at all. i cant believe how cosy it is here. i genuinely await your writing like i would a new published novel hahaa. i also was going through my likes and saw an anon post on spicybylerpolls from february. it mentioned the sears catalogue and byler's fantasies and i had adored it at the time. rereading now, i'm like... VINNY?!?!? hahaha maybe it's not you but it's textbook and the style of writing and openminded humbleness felt very you. love.

especially love the self-acceptance journey you seem to be on here, allowing yourself nerdery, allowing yourself spice in byler forums, keeping a healthy eye on your online habits! + growing to love yourself more through will perhaps, keeping up with your writing, learning you kind of love cringe roleplay sex in fic?!?!? hehehehehe and also realisations that you may or may not want to share! its all gold dust - and honestly, this feels like blogs as i knew them growing up, like wordpress, blogspot, etc. proper old blogs where it's just right mix of artistic and personal.

Thanks, I feel so happy being here, everyone is so sweet 😘 Saving the dash from my personal rambles:

I didn't want to ruin it by changing things up too much. But, I do kinda want to talk about whatever here and post the occasional non-Byler stuff, still mostly the normal fandoming and spicy posting like I've been doing. Keeping the chill vibes. This does feel very much like a different type of blogging than I'm used to. It's cool. Even if people get sick of me or lose interest, I'll pretend that's not the case hahaha. Corny as hell, but it feels safe here.

Incredibly flattered that you look forward to my writing! I've always wrote fic and original pieces and scripts and loved it but had zero confidence. Did it anyway. I still have a lot of growth to work through with my writing when I decide to post polished fics, but that's fun now, feels different. I have so much in the wheelhouse. It'll fuel me to season 5 and beyond, I'm pretty sure.

That's funny you mention the spicypolls account, because I HAD to go searching through their archive and I found that post - wow, I see what you mean. The typing style certainly could make you think it's me, and it was an excellent post but full disclosure - I've never sent anything into that blog before! I only started this blog in May (whoa! 2 months?? Feels a lot longer!) and I genuinely only lurked and never interacted anywhere on the spicy corner before I converted this account, even on anon.

And I never thought I'd learn things about myself through something as genuinely kind of silly as what is, at its core, an explicit head-canon and writing blog for a fictional fandom ship. Hahahaha. But here I am. Feeling a little more confident in embracing my vulnerabilities and weirdness. Weirdness isn't bad! It's stuff I've known but it's different when you just live your life, instead of actually talking about it outside of your brain. Helps me feel less embarrassed after posting here sometimes - I look back over what I post and just cringe on occasion but power through a little easier lately!!

And ohhh it always comes back to the cringe roleplay, doesn't it 😏 Which has been a fun exercise in letting myself play around and try new things in general, with writing. With real life. Be a little weirdo. Find your people. Stay authentic.

Thanks for this one, it's a little self-indulgent, rambling about myself, but it made me smile. ❤️ Incredibly corny, but this is the kind of environment I think I've always been searching for online, but looked in all the wrong places. So, ughhhh. Finally.

#asks #queued #😘😘😘#BTW I'm deep into the Renn Fair Dnd fic. Just got a little distracted by other wips for a week or two. But it's coming along. Soon!! I hope

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jungkxook · 4 years

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—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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practicalmagicintuitions · 3 years

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HC and NV relationship - 3 months forecast.

DISCLAIMER: If you will send me an Anon, I will answer in the same tone as your ask, opinion is written.

All information and statements made in this reading or any other post of mine are all alleged until proven to be fact and for entertainment purposes & usage only. All information stated is based on my intuition and my tarot cards. Opinion only. The readings have no intention to cause any harm to the individuals, people featured in it.

August

7 of Pentacles, The Hanged Man

These 2 cards are very interesting to me to see next to each other because both have a similar feeling. Based on those cards I would say seemingly their August will be still or boring, but under the surface the changes are there. Both cards mean reflecting, having a different point of view.

7ofP originally could mean that you made the work in the past and now you are waiting for the harvest, the fruits of your work. The card analogy and imagery is basically gardening. You put the seed in the ground and now you have to wait. I told you about this card before, how interesting it is, how 50/50 of its “reputation”. Someone thinks it's a positive card, someone is on the “not that bad but dull” side. For me it’s not the worst, not the best card, it is definitely interesting, you have to work with it. In a relationship however, I feel it means waiting. Waiting for some change but I personally feel there is not much hope in this. Like the situation maybe, potentially hopeful, but the figure on the card doesn’t have high hopes. Or he doesn’t appreciate what they achieved by hard work.

The other thing is, because Pentacles are material goods too, and it’s a relationship reading it could mean they are saving money for something bigger. Normally I would say it’s about saving for a house together or a wedding so for a life together, but the whole reading doesn’t support this. So even if in August something bigger is on the table financially, I don’t see this in their September-October. So the rest of the reading doesn't support this forward, but we will see. Maybe this is one aspect of the relationship The Hanged Man is referring to. This card is again, a new perspective, reflection, make some sacrifice too. So it could be that one of them or both of them are thinking about the financial basis of their relationship like, make it stronger by buying something together? Or shouldn’t do that because it’s not the right move, etc. The Hanged Man could mean one of them (or both) are not satisfied with the pace or the level of the commitment of the relationship.

It also could mean a relationship is on pause. So based on that I am not sure NV will go to the UK in August. He is there, probably for shooting, for work… real one, not FL one, and probably NV has his own job to do, so it could mean she cannot join.

In a more negative sense, it’s a fragile moment in a relationship, being neglected or both parties neglect the relationship.

And 7ofP is basically doing nothing just waiting. It could mean the start of a relationship was good, you two clicked and you thought that’s it. But that is not it. Not the end. You have to work on a relationship no matter how amazing it was the start.

September.

Usually, I pull only 2 cards for each month. I don’t want to complicate it and in the past, it worked quite well in the HC-NV readings. I already pulled my first when 3 cards popped up. I was hesitant a little, especially because those were face down so I could put them back easily, but my own rule is I keep 1-2-3 flying cards and I am only putting back if it is more than 3. So we have 4 cards reading here.

My first card was the Page of Pentacles. I have an unpublished reading on NV where I got this card and I felt it’s a meal ticket for her, like something she wants to secure herself. I don’t have this impression now, you should know by now cards mean many things and I don’t really see this in the surrounding cards.

Pages are messengers, they are the bottom of the Court food chain. And the Pentacles is the slowest amongst them. Which basically supports all I got for August. The slowness, the thinking, planning. It has very strong thinking about the future, goals are being set meaning. It’s also not an emotional card that deals with more security than emotions.

I think this is the continuity of August's realisations. I found it interesting that we have 2 pentacles cards in a relationship reading and both have the thinking, planning aspect which is more like the Swords suit. So I think even though it’s a relationship reading it deals with the material side of it too or the time aspect. How much time they are willing to sacrifice for each other and for this relationship.

Judgment, 2 of Cups rx, 3 of Swords.

Those cards fell off from the deck during shuffling.

Judgment is transformations, rebirths, karmic relationships. It also listens to an inner voice, inner call and I think this is important that the PoP is a messenger. It’s a wake-up call you cannot ignore. It’s a heavy card, but I am sure you already know this. It also means you are getting from a relationship what you are put into it. If you put little in it or jealousy, you will get back those. A major decision when you are considering the past (again, correlates with the 7ofP) when you make a decision in terms of the future. Moving on, starting fresh, turning pages. Those are all the Judgment.

I think with all of the revelations and wake up calls he will realize that the emotions, in the beginning, are not evolved into something else, something deeper. I got Page of cups 2 times as to how he felt towards her in the beginning and I said it was the puppy love, the teenage emotions. Now it seems he will understand it’s not any deeper than that. I know I am talking about him and how he feels even though it’s a combined reading but I feel this is about him.

2 of Cups rx could highlight various problems in a relationship, this emotion is “reversed” blocked because they are incompatible emotionally or there is disharmony, etc. The point is, it’s not a good card in a relationship.

And top of that the 3 of Swords…. I think this card could be both of them feeling some sort of heartbreak because the relationship is not what they thought in the beginning, but the Judgment is absolutely HC. I see from the very beginning that he has to make a decision, he has to call off the relationship because NV won’t go away. Probably this is the time for him to understand that after a period of reflection. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be affected by it and she will have some sort of heartbreak too.

Well, this is the interesting part, because 3ofSw is a classical heartbreak card ,because of its bland representation ( a heart with 3 swords in it) and this is still is, but because Swords are dealing with the mind, the intellect, this heartbreak could someone which comes from the mind.

What do I mean?

I mean overthinking, obsessing over thoughts, that we can have something together, or my ex will come back to me or when one built a whole life together with someone in their mind after a few months of dating, and in the end this house of cards just collapses.

It could represent both of them or just one of them to have those illusions, thoughts, but then the wakeup call of the Judgment hit them hard.

Since I am working with tarot on this blog I feel more and more that 3ofSw is a heartbreak but not necessarily a betrayal, cheating etc. It’s a heartbreak we mainly cause to ourselves. This doesn’t mean the others are blameless, but we have cards for that. I think 3ofSw is when you build your house on sand or your life on dreams and it collapses. Or someone hurts us with words. Words are the sharpest weapon, this card shows it perfectly ( swords - air - thoughts in tarot).

October.

Magician, The Hierophant rx.

Very interesting pair, had to focus on them a little. Both major arcanas,with one powerful male figure in the focus.

People usually love the Magician card and I do in other decks but not here. The classic RWS’s Magician is more like a trickster to me. A powerful one who is selling tricks and offering illusions. In a relationship it’s someone who is playing games. It could even be a disappearing act like on stage. Now I am here, you can see me, and then, you cannot.

Magician is also about communication. Once I read it could be about internet based communication and I find this interesting here. So I can see 2 options.

One of them is that they are continuing this relationship but struggling. Making an effort to keep the relationship without attachments. It could mean having a breakup but somehow maintaining the relationship on a non conventional level. Hierophant reversed is anything which is not a conventional relationship (conventional in terms of tarot of course, those were not conventional or didn’t exist when tarot was formed). So it could be a relationship without marrige, same sex marrige, open relationship etc. So even though I see breakup that doesn’t mean an instant separation or cutting ties completely, not if he is continuing to “keep back to exes because it’s easier” And in the October cards I don’t really see that NV has any influence or power what will happen. I think it’s very much of the outcome of the Judgment’s revelation and wake up call which is about him.

The other thing I see is that they have a breakup and one of them or both (separately obviously) are going back to the internet to date people, the internet as a non usual dating method. Or in the most drastic scenario I see a ghosting and this is about the Magician’s disappearing act in a cloud of smoke.

We have 3 more cards, this is the only thing I did differently in this reading. I pulled one card for HC and NV represents them during the whole reading and we have a bottom of the deck card. Let’s see the personal ones first. (very briefly)

NV - Knight of Pentacles rx

When this card is upright it is dull but loyal, hard working. No sparks, surprises, but stability, you know what you get with them. When it’s reversed, they are overly materialistic but lazy at the same time. The loyalty is not there anymore. Keep it mind you can be disloyal in many ways this does not necessarily mean physical cheating. As the PofP the KnofP is looking into the pentacle too, planning the future. So rx it could mean this knight is not really making plans or more likely doesn’t really understand the plan he makes won’t be long term. And this is again, 3ofSw… building dreams on something which is false. This knight is also impractical. Let’s see this, she was flying back and forth to him and probably she should continue this to keep the relationship alive. But this seems one sided and she has her own job, so I don’t see this as a practical solution Especially not in the middle of covid.

It also means that she thinks the relationship is boring, lacking any romance but she still takes this relationship for granted. Since pentacles are about resources and owning something I see a strong possessive attitude in this (unhealthy one). I think she really thinks this relationship is hers. She is on the high horse in terms of this.

HC 4 of wands reversed

He is insecure. As I remember I got this card once and I said there is some problem on the home front, that maybe it's still there. The feeling of not belonging. Because this is a relationship reading I think those feelings are for NV. This fits with the Hierophant rx and with the whole reading basically. He feels there is no solid foundation. Unsettling feeling, disharmony, happiness is gone. It also means he doesn't want to make a serious commitment.

And our last card from the bottom of the deck is the 8 of Cups.

This is also a classic breakup card as it means letting go, losing interest and walking away. It also has a realization that you are missing something and you need to change, leaving something behind. This is a soul searching, self discovery card however, I don’t feel this is a strong theme here. I just don’t think this whole NV fiasco will touch HC on a deep, soul level, not even we have the Judgment. I hope I am not right here. As this card indicates travel physical or inner one, so it could mean taking some therapy, leaving an emotional baggage behind. Means you have strength to leave an emotionally unfulfilling and unhappy relationship behind. It also means you are withdraw from a turbulent, dramatic situations like this whole relationship with NV.

I could go on for pages but all in all we have a strong theme of realization, not wanting to make commitments and breaking up, walking away. I don’t have any really hopeful cards, but this is not surprising, I’ve never got any happy cards tbh.

This is what I get, we will see. So many things will go under the surface, so probably we won’t know many things because it won’t be spectacular in any sense.

My wee community announcement is that I will take a break from the HC reading for I don’t know how long. I will just watch this facade and do reading on others. But I will keep continuing to discuss HC and this relationship here. If anyone is interested or has something to say, go on. I am here for it.

I hope you enjoyed this reading. Have a nice, blessed August.

#pmitarotreadings #tarot #tarotreading #opinion #allegedly #henry cavill #henry cavill girlfriend #natalie viscuso #celebrity tarot #sam heughan

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afictionalwhore · 4 years

Text

Learning Your Lesson

A/N: This isn't the first fanfic I've written, but it's the first I've finished. It's on the darker side, which I have no problem writing, I don't want my blog to be only that. That Keishin kitchen one is coming I just gotta get through finals. Thank you @kogo for the idea! You mentioned it, so I took it and bolted.

TW: noncon/dubcon, yandere, phone sex, masturbation, implied drinking

"Baby," Hawks cooed into the phone, "what's wrong?"

It was in the middle of his night patrol when you called him, the ringtone specifically set for you jingling throughout the empty streets from his jacket pocket. When he picked up, he was met with your soft sobs on the other end of the line.

"Keigo?" Your voice barely audible. "Can you come get me? I don't want to talk about it here."

"(y/n), what's the matter," Hawks says, voice dropping an octave.

“You were right, Keigo,” you sob. “I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight.”

“(Y/n),” Hawks said, the seriousness in his voice chilling you more thoroughly than the night air. “What happened?” He was growing restless, pacing the same alleyway. He told you not to go out. You should have listened to him. You should always listen to him. He can only hope you learned your lesson this time.

Since you and the Number 2 Hero began dating, Hawks had grown increasingly paranoid about your safety. If it had been anyone else, Hawks' possessiveness over you could have been seen as controlling; you told yourself that he only had your safety in mind. Dating a pro hero, especially such a high ranking one, came with its dangers, and your quirklessness made you an even easier target. If anything happened to you, Hawks wouldn't know what to do with himself, a fact he constantly reminded you of.

You insisted on going out with your friends tonight. “Keigo,” you whined, stretching his name out like you were one of his teenage fans, “Please. I haven’t seen them in months.” You were just a quirkless nobody, making minimum wage and barely scraping by to make rent and survive your shitty neighborhood. Scratch the latter bit. You were just a quirkless nobody, but since your relationship with Hawks kicked off, the pro had moved you into his apartment, a much safer, much more suitable place for you, and you know longer had to worry about your safety. Except on occasions like these. Your friends, all either quirkless or with minor quirks that would be useless in protecting you should anything happen, were gathering to celebrate an engagement, and surprise surprise they invited you.

Hawks tried his best to persuade you otherwise, listing all the dangers of going out without him, or going out at all, especially when you were dressed like that. Your little skirt falling just over your ass. Anyone could drop their wallet behind you and sneak a peek up your skirt. Your shirt was much too tight; and where was your jacket? You're just showing off the goods for everyone, like you were asking for something to happen.

But you could not, would not be swayed. You missed your friends. Though you loved Hawks, “It's Keigo, baby,” he would insist, you craved your friendships, and you were overjoyed to find that they didn’t hate you for practically disappearing on them since your relationship with Hawks, "Keigo", had become serious.

“What happened?” Hawks repeated, his impatience growing.

“It all happened so quickly,” you sobbed.

“(y/n),” Hawks quite nearly growled out. “What. Happened.” You were really testing him right now, what with interrupting his patrol, albeit his boring, uneventful patrol. How could he help you when you weren't telling him what was wrong.

"I was leaving the bar. You remember which one?" Your voice shook. Hawks held back a scoff. Of course he knew where the bar was. It was the very bar frequented by the League, nestled neatly into the roughest area of town; it's inexpensiveness appealing to your friends' cheapness more than the potential danger drove them away. He told you they couldn't be trusted.

"Well I was leaving," You must be shaking like a leaf. Hawks can hear it in your voice. "And I get this feeling, like someone's following me. So I walk faster, and I—" you cut. Soft cries filled Hawks' ears as he listened.

Hawks can feel himself growing tighter in his pants as you cry. He knows where this is heading. He told you not to go, but you didn't listen. It would be rude of you to ask them to reschedule to a date when Hawks could more easily pick you up, or even better, accompany you. You were too overjoyed when they reached out with an invitation despite your disappearance in their life. But now here you were, sobbing—god how he loved your cries—to him over the phone because some asshole had roughed you up a bit. What did you expect leaving The League of Villains' bar alone at this ungodly hour?

As angry as he was over your stupidity, he couldn't deny how hot you sounded in your current state. His arousal was confirmed by the decent tent forming in his uniform pants. After a quick scan of the area, Hawks found a nearby alleyway to slip into. He was thankful his designated area to patrol tonight was rather unlively. Leaning against the rough bricks, Hawks found himself quickly undoing his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself.

"Go on, baby," Hawks said. It took all his self control not to let so much as a slight hitch in his voice show as he encouraged you to talk.

"Keigo, please. I don't know why I have to tell you all right now." you sobbed. "Please, just come get me."

"Baby," Hawks drawled, suppressing a moan as he languidly stroked himself up to full hardness. "I don't want you to have to relive this more than you have to. So you just tell me now, as detailed as possible. I can fill out whatever reports you would need to for you, and you won't ever have to think about this again." It was hard for you to argue with Hawks in your fragile state. “I know what’s best for you, baby bird. Tell me everything.”

So you did. You told Keigo all about the strange man who you guessed had followed you out of the bar. Who would just be lurking outside the League's bar waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting quirkless? Hawks would bet his next several paychecks just who would be doing exactly that.

You told Hawks about the rough, calloused hand over your mouth accompanied by the low voice in your ear whispering that if you so much as made a squeak, you'd be cremated on the spot. Bingo. At least he wasn't losing much in a bet against himself. Judging by the state of his hard cock in his gloved hand, he was actually winning here.

Hawks would have just laughed at you had he not been so fucking turned on. He would have to look past that cheesy "cremation" line. How did you not know who was lurking around the sleazy bar waiting for a hot piece of meat, for you, to stumble out the bar, drunk and alone. Were you always such an idiot? How did you ever survive without him?

You told him about how you had been unceremoniously dragged into the alley next to the bar and shoved face first into the bricks of one of the bar's outer walls. Hawks' eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hung up as his head fell back against the wall he braced himself against. His fist picked up the pace, imagining your soft protests and how lovely your weak, slurred cries of "please no" would have sounded as your skirt was flipped up and panties ripped through. Knowing your attacker, a hole very well could have been burned through for easy access. He'd have to check once he got you home and asleep.

Hawks continued pumping himself as you continued your sob fest, jerking his foreskin up and down over his angry almost purple head. God how he wished to be there, listening to your sobs, cooing at you that everything was going to be okay as he kissed your tear stained, brick scratched cheeks and stroked a finger over that pretty, abused pussy of yours.

His gloved thumb rubbing over his slit, as he pictured how badly your insides were wrecked, how that jacob's ladder would have scraped against your warm plush walls. Were you even wet? You had to be. After all, only a slut would have gone out when he told them otherwise. He could only imagine how rough the man in question was with you and your pliant body. In your drunken state, how hard could you have fought back? Not very hard, Hawks had gotten you nice and drunk quite a number of times, and that was exactly why he protested you going out in the first place. His breathing grew heavier the closer he came to his release.

"Keigo?" your feeble voice called out over the phone's speaker. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, baby. I'm okay." Hawks collected himself. Pull yourself together, man. "Are you okay? I'm just so angry." that you didn't listen to me.

"Keigo, are you close?" Oh he was close alright. Just a few more strokes, a few more sniffles and whines from you, and he would be right there.

“Please, Keigo. Hurry up. I’m cold and scared. Keigo, I’m so scared.” That's all he needed.

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.” Hawks said, praying you couldn’t hear the breathlessness in his voice. His brilliant wings puffed and gave a few strained flutters before shaking tensely as his hand stilled and streaks of hot white fell on the dirty street below him. You weren’t the most intuitive, so you’d probably attribute it to his anger.

With his lust no longer clouding his mind, a sudden worry stuck Hawks.

"Did he cum in you?" Hawks practically growled.

"What? No. Why are you asking me this?" your confusion briefly pausing your sobs.

"Just checking to see if you need me to make a stop by the pharmacy," Hawks explained as he stuffed himself back in his pants. "I'm on my way. I just have to make a quick call, baby. I love you." He zipped himself up and fixed his belt back into place. He shook out and stretched his wings. Hawks couldn't remember ever cumming that hard.

"No. Keigo, please don't hang up," you hiccuped.

"Baby, baby," Hawks cooed, "I gotta let the commission know that I'm taking off early. You don't think I'd just continue working after this?" A smirk worked its way onto his handsome face. He could imagine your cute face scrunched into a pout. "Do you have that little faith in me? It's the least you could let me do before I leave patrol early for you. You think you learned your lesson?"

"Um," your voice trembles, Hawks’ last statement confusing you. "I suppose." You weren’t sure what your lesson was; you just wanted Keigo to take you home.

"Good girl,” a dark smile finds his way on Hawks’ face. I'll call you right back. I promise," Hawks reassures you, the fear in your voice as you feebly protested was almost enough to make him hard again. "I'll let you hang up, okay? I love you."

"Okay," you sniff, "I love you too."

Hawks hears the light click signaling that you hung up and glances down at his phone for confirmation before quickly dialing another number, his smile growing darker as he waited out the ringing. After about three rings, Hawks broke out in a full smile, his crazed golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the alleyway he had hidden himself into.

“What you do want now, ya fucking pigeon?” a rough, gravely voice answered.

“Thanks, Touya. I really owe you one.”

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks solo #implied touya x reader #noncon/dubcon #hawks is an asshole #yandere hawks

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coldmorte · 3 years

Note

So i have some unpopular opinions; i feel like Dutch doesnt sleep around as much as people would like to think. He probably likes the fact that people think that of him, even if its not his style. Also...i dont think Dutch and Molly have any chemistry.

Howdy! (ASK 1 OF 2)

I apologize it took me some time to actually reply to this, especially because it is such a great ask! I definitely agree with both points made here, but I was debating how I wanted to write a response (and how far to take it).

Anyway, I'm open to hearing unpopular opinions! I know I have plenty of my own, so I'm not really one to judge others (as long as there is mutual respect) ☺️

My response is fairly long, and it deals with some sensitive topics. I decided to add a cut to this first ask, just to be safe! 💜💜💜

(Warning: SPOILERS below)

In regard to Dutch sleeping around, there are a few reasons why I don’t think he does it as much as it is often implied/assumed (I’m primarily limiting this to the timeframe of RDR2, Ch. 1-6).

First of all, Molly explicitly says Dutch doesn’t show her a lot of physical attention, even though he is her SO. If he’s not sleeping with her much, I doubt that he is going around with any other women at this time. He seldom leaves camp, outside of doing missions, so it is unlikely that he would meet up with anybody not in the gang. It just doesn’t seem plausible to me, as it would put him in a vulnerable position.

Dutch complains multiple times - including to Molly - that he is under stress and concerned about the Pinkertons closing in on them. Why would he go around outside the camp sleeping with random women? It would put him at the risk of being seen or reported on, and I believe he is smarter than to take on the unnecessary danger. Generally, he doesn’t spend much time in civilized areas, unless he needs to.

Not to mention, stress can be a real inhibitor of sex drive. For the entirety of the game, Dutch exhibits various degrees of anxiety and depression. I believe the gang and his personal safety were of much more concern to him, thus diminishing his interest in sex.

Speaking of the gang, I don’t personally see Dutch as sleeping around with the women in it that much. He did have a relationship with Susan in the past. Whether anything was still going on between them or not is uncertain, but if there was something, it probably was not serious or very frequent. In RDR1, he also suggests that he slept with Abigail, but if this happened, I doubt it would have occurred during the events of RDR2. They hardly ever interacted, and when Abigail did talk about Dutch, it was almost always in a negative manner. Dutch also showed some interest in Mary-Beth. However, I don’t think it went beyond flirting. She didn’t show much interest in him, and I think word would have gotten around if he tried to force anything, especially to Arthur (I am not going to discuss the events of RDR1 in any more detail here because that is a whole different conversation). But other than them, who else in the gang? There were not enough interactions with other women to suggest there was anything between them and Dutch.

Also, sex was considerably more risky in 1899 than it is today, and the means of contraception were not as dependable. For instance, The Pill didn’t go onto the market for another 60 years, and it was more difficult to get ahold of other birth control methods. This was partly because there were not as many technological advancements in this field and because there were a few laws that prevented reliable access to contraceptives (ex: The Comstock Laws). Condoms were arguably one of the easier birth control methods to find, but they still were not as widely available then as they are today (the quality was arguably not as good either). As I understand it, some searching was generally required to get ahold of condoms (usually in more civilized areas, which Dutch tried to avoid).

Dutch is a very contradictory character. My point in bringing up birth control is because although on some level I think Dutch probably would have liked to have actual children, I do not think he was serious enough about it to take any risks that might have led to an unwanted pregnancy during the timeframe of RDR2. As I mentioned, he was under a lot of stress with the gang. A biological child on top of that most likely would have overwhelmed him, and it would have required a long-term commitment to not only the child, but to the mother as well. I believe Dutch was smart enough to recognize this danger, and since birth control methods were not as widely available or reliable, he would not have wanted to sleep around too much (unwanted pregnancies were relatively common during this era).

I’ve written in the past that I believe Dutch had a certain degree of self-consciousness underneath his pride, so I do agree that he probably would have liked people finding him attractive or seductive. These traits emanate a sense of power and confidence, which would have provided a more favorable presentation of himself to others. These perceptions certainly would have helped to conceal his own self-doubts and insecurities, so he would have welcomed them, rather than try to refute them.

Now, in regard to the chemistry between Dutch and Molly, I agree. I think it was a pretty bad relationship all around. I don’t see its flaws as being entirely one-sided.

I will get into this a little more on the next ask, but I will discuss a few things here first.

Starting with Dutch, I will admit that he could have treated Molly a lot better. Even if he wasn’t happy with her or the status of their relationship, he should have seriously talked to her more. She deserved that, at the very minimum. There were a few instances where she tried to get his attention, and he just brushed her off. Again, like I said, even if he wasn’t very keen on the relationship anymore, he should have at least been honest about that. Then, as I already discussed, he had some mildly flirtatious conversations with Mary-Beth. I certainly do not think this helped matters. It was rude the way he insulted Molly for bringing up his interactions with Mary-Beth and how he pretended he had no idea what Molly was talking about.

Onto Molly, I don’t think she was perfect either. I know Dutch didn’t talk with her nearly as much as he should have, but she didn’t seem to show a whole lot of support for him in return. Dutch expressed that he was feeling stressed and not up to much physical activity, to which she got quite upset. She seemed to turn some arguments towards herself and her needs, with little regard for Dutch’s wellbeing. I do think she was selfish for demanding him to give her something he did not want to give/could not provide. Also, she refused to help the gang find leads or assist with chores, even when told to do so by others (ex: Dutch and Arthur). She tended to act above everybody else, claiming she wasn’t a servant to the needs of the gang as a whole. Though I can respect her sense of independence in that regard, it did show a sense of entitlement. Even Dutch donated to the gang funds, and as the leader, he was the one responsible for overseeing the vast majority of missions they engaged in. Molly was the only person who really did not contribute much. (Side note: Even UNCLE - the laziest bastard in the West - helped with leads and contributions!!)

I will get into this more in the following ask, but although I know she loved Dutch to an extent, I think part of her fascination with him was rooted in infatuation. Little is known about her background, but it is canon that she came from a wealthy and influential family in Ireland. I think part of the reason why she liked Dutch so much was because of the powerful position he held. She frequently lashed out at people who she perceived as challenging the reality of her “love” for him, such as Abigail and Karen. In one instance, Molly even went so far as to slap Karen across the face because she thought Karen was talking negatively about her. There was no evidence to prove or disprove Molly’s beliefs, but it did show that she was pretty sensitive about criticism (whether it was perceived or real) in regard to her relationship with Dutch.

Now, Dutch was wrong to use Molly’s fascination with him and his role in the gang to seduce her. But like I said, both of them had their issues. It was just a bad situation from both sides, and I do not think it should have happened in the first place. I don’t necessarily blame one more than the other. To be honest, I think they each deserved someone who fit them better.

And if I am being even MORE honest, I think Dutch should have stayed with Susan. She loved him, and he made a big mistake in ever giving her up. I believe the events of RDR2 would have turned out very differently, had he kept her closer.

(Ending note: Outside of serious posts - like this one - I know I make quite a few jokes about Dutch on my blog in regard to sexuality, but I do not mean for much of what I say in that regard to be taken *too* seriously. I don’t particularly want to discuss my personal life in the text of this post, but I will say that even if Dutch was a person I knew in real life, I’m not sure I would seriously want anything to happen between us. However, that is another matter entirely that has nothing whatsoever to do with him. I absolutely LOVE his character to death, and my blog will remain dedicated to his role in the RDR story for as long as I am around! That is all that should matter!!!)

Also, it is perfectly fine and normal to separate fiction from reality! It is okay to alter interpretations of Dutch (and/or Molly) for the sake of artistic expression, as long as the reasons can be justified. Furthermore, it is fine to disagree with me!!

I just hope this response gave you a thing or two to consider. Thank you again for sending your message in!! 💜💜💜

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dervampireprince · 3 years

Note

Hey, hey hey, don't apologize for that, sweet prince, that's alright, I completely understand. You have been so good by telling me, yeah? Such a good boy for letting me know, you don't have to apologize for telling me that it made you really uncomfortable or for deleting it, that's alright. We're good, I'm not going to stop talking to you for you reasserting your boundaries.

I was a little unsure about writing that because I already know the whole more than one person scenario can be icky for you, no matter if it's fantasy. But I completely understand that I fucked up and I'm sorry for that, I'll try to do better next time. I'm also sorry you had to post that in public for me to see, if you feel more comfortable deleting it after you get this ask that's alright!!

Truly, never apologize for telling someone they've misstepped and that something made you uncomfortable, you've been very brave for doing that even if you were afraid, I'm very proud of you. Gonna wrap you up in a blanket and bring something cold for you to drink, alright? Then I can snuggle by your side and let you slowly wind down by my side, my brave good boy 💙

sort of answering both of your asks here. some things are gonna be in bold only to make some things easier to read cos this is a lot, it's not meant to come across sarcastic or demanding, all of this is /gen (genuine) /nm (non-malicious) in tone

texting / sexting / asks / dms / roleplay, all of that, it doesn't make things easier for me, it doesn't soften any triggers or limits. perhaps i shouldn't run a blog like this if that's how it is for me. i'm a person with no irl experience with sex or dating. i'm a person who's only relationships have been friendships and for the first 18 years of my life all of them were abusive or toxic or bullying or two-faced thus trust issues.

i get in a sub space very very very easily. if i read a fanfic where there is a character i relate too and they're subbing i will get in a sub space while reading it and then if a hard limit of mine is suddenly in the fic and there was no warning or tag for it i experience sub drop. from reading a fanficiton. which probably sounds ridiculous.

with you all, i don't nor couldn't get into a sub space from an ask sent by a new person, a new anon. with any of you who have spoken to me more than a couple times, maybe you didn't realise the power you wield, but if i'm replying to submissive asks and being submissive i how i talk you've got to be careful with me like you would with a sub you have in real life. if we're just chatting normally and i'm not in a sub space you can try things out, but when it's clear i'm in a sub space (and i'll try and make that more clear, i don't know how i can, but i'll try to always vocalize when that's happening irl) that's not the time to risk trying anything new with me that you think has a potential to make me uncomfortable. and this is going out to everyone who's reading this, treat it i guess like if you were having a real session, if i'm not a in sub space yet sure we can talk about new things or soft limits or bring up new kinks whether in normal discussion or roleplaying/sexting, but once i'm in the sub space don't risk bringing up new things because we didn't get to discuss it before i was in the space. does that make sense? and as i said i'll be clearer about when i'm in a space, whether in the text of the post or first thing in the tags.

i suppose i felt bad because i feel like it's such a stupid boundary to have that no one else has. even if they have it irl, which i know there are other people who irl wouldn't have sex with a stranger, but in fantasy talk idk... feels like a stupid thing to get triggered by.

i'm only okay with monogamous scenarios of any kind as long as theres room to imagine we already know each other / established relationship. i guess rules on sending me asks about multiple-people scenarios is only if its a poly triad, as in all three people together in one relationship. no two people dating and invite a random hook up. no three random people who dont know each other hooking up. i don't count three people as "group sex" (which is on my hard limits), but what you wrote very much was "casual sex / hook ups / sex with strangers" and also "voyeurism (being watched or asked to watch others)" which is on my hard limits and you mentioned i'd be watching you get fucked. i know voyeurism is a weird line if its a threesome and inevitable, but i just wouldnt want to watch without being involved.

i wanted to take my time before i answered because i felt very much like i didn't want anyone to touch me so the idea of cuddles was not appealing at all.

i appreciate you sending two asks, one as quick as you could to try and help me calm down, and another a little later. it did at least help stop the spiral of feeling guilty for saying anything and the idea that you'd never send me another ask again.

sorry i'm starting to cry again as i answer this, i just wanted to answer it now and not later. it probably only hurt a little more because it's you, because i trust you more and i like you so much and it's.. it's easy for me to get attached to people and enjoy time with them (and yet somehow hard for me to fully love someone platonically or romantically, don't ask me how that works) so idk my brain freaked over the idea of you not liking me anymore.

i hope it's okay for me to share both of your asks, i think you're got a lot of maturity and understand and people could learn from you have to behave if they find themselves in a similar situation online or irl. hopefully the way i'm responding is something helpful as well. i'd like to think i'm one for talking calming about things and open discussion, rather than arguing or jumping to assumptions or assume the worst in someone just because of a misunderstanding. this entire response i think just took me uh 30 minutes to write.,.. no wait shit you sent that last one an hour ago, i hope you weren't worrying the whole time waiting for me to answer

calming down as i write this. it's okay, i forgive you, (which feels pretentious to say like as if you need my forgiveness or somethin), i'll be okay. it's a little hard because part of my brain didn't want to be touched or trust someone to comfort me for a while there, but then i also still feel vulnerable and lost and you said the cold drinks thing which means you remembered.. i keep re-reading both of your asks as they're slowly coaxing me into being okay with you holding me. if you wanted too. i'm gonna go to bed. kinda want to roll in in the hoodie i'm already wearing with it's sleeve too long and draped over my hands and my hood around my head, blocking out the world. you.. could join, if you wanted. it's hard to not say sorry again, it's just second nature to me. i know you're meant to say thank you instead of sorry so, thank you for being so understand and patient and kind with me. brain's still a little scared if i ask you to hold me that you won't like me anymore. even though you're the one who offered. i don't want you to feel bad or guilty. and if you have a need to make it up to me then you can hold my hand until i fall asleep maybe

#if it isnt obvious: dont reblog #a rollercoaster of emotions #was like :/ when i started writing this then cried a little half way through then ended all shy and pleading emoji #so i guess im okay #the vampire answers #blue heart anon #the vampire vents

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ot3tropetober · 4 years

Photo

Eliot and Hardison are travel journalists for rival publications who keep showing up in the same places

Fic for this (~3500 words) is below the read more! Some notes:

[backstory on why Hardison is writing these comes from this post]

[Eliot, Parker, and Hardison are all commenting on this document, think of it like the chat in Google drive? In-document comments from Eliot are italicized, from Hardison are in bold, and from Parker are plain text]

By the time Will Coffey stepped off the plane in Dallas, all he wanted was a nice long shower and to sleep in his own bed for once. Being a travel journalist for a leading travel magazine had its perks– a month-long trip across Mexico, for example, all expenses paid or at least reimbursed – but after a month on the road he was dead tired and ready to be home.

Is this supposed to be me? Why am I living in Dallas?

Yes, and also, you don’t actually live in Dallas, Eliot, you live here, in Portland, with us.

I know that, I just– you know what, never mind.

Well, Will Coffey likes Dallas.

I am Will Coffey!!

That’s the spirit.

The other thing about being on the road for a living was that sometimes it felt kinda lonely, and as relieved as he was to be home, the first couple of minutes after he walked in, turned on the lights, and looked around at an empty place, that was always a little bittersweet. But the only other person he’d really seen in any kind of serious capacity the whole time he’d had this gig was a fellow traveler who spent just as much time on the road as he did, so it just kinda was what it was. He set his keys and his bag down and headed to the kitchen for a beer, but he hadn’t even opened his fridge when his phone buzzed a couple times. It was a text from Sarah, his editor. He’d known her forever– they shared a couple classes in college. Now they shared the stress of managing a print publication in an increasingly digital world.

“Did you see this?” she had written. There was a link in the next message. “How does this guy get this stuff up so fast?“

Will already knew what he was gonna find before he clicked the link, and sure enough, it directed him to a popular travel blog called The Travel Geek, which was a ridiculous name for a travel blog but people absolutely went wild for it. Will liked it too, not that he would ever really admit it, but that probably had more to do with the guy who ran it than anything else. They had…not a thing, exactly? It was hard to explain whatever was going on with Jeremy Edwards, who by rights Will should probably hate for stealing his stories and his audience. But the problem with that was mainly that the guy was so goddamn likeable.

I’m guessing that’s you.

You would be correct.

You think I think you’re likeable?

No, I know it.

he is pretty likeable

Yeah, yeah.

Will had met Jeremy a couple of years ago, right when he was just starting out with his blog. Jeremy said he’d been reading Will’s stuff for a while and would love some advice from a pro. It wasn’t like Will didn’t know it was a little bit of flattery, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was a little bit of flirting, either. It also wasn’t like Jeremy was bad to look at. So Will said sure, he’d be glad to, and they were in Belgium, so they shared some beers, ate fries from a baraque at one in the morning on a park bench, shoulders pressed together, while Will tipsily rhapsodized about gaufre de Liège while Jeremy laughed and laughed.

I have never *rhapsodized* about anything in my damn life.

Have you heard you talk about food? This is not a criticism. I could listen to that all day.

Nothing really happened, in the end, just a good conversation and the promise to keep in touch. That turned out to be easier than it should have been, because they started covering the same damn things, all the time. One big world, and somehow they were always sharing part of it: Will was in India on a camel safari through the Thar Desert, and Jeremy was there, keeping Will up at night tappity tapping on his keyboard. Or Will was in Oatman, Arizona, for a piece on Route 66, and there was Jeremy, taking selfies with the wild burros roaming the streets of the town. Or Will was traveling around Japan, doing a feature on onsens, and Jeremy was there, too, acting like he wasn’t looking in Will’s direction while they sat, very naked, in the soothing hot water. It went on like that for a while until finally one night in Barcelona, in front of Sagrada Familia, he looked at Jeremy, tall and handsome in this absurd brightly patterned scarf, and said, “This is ridiculous, man,” and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss.

Do you honestly think it would have taken me that long?

I don’t know, baby, it took your cowboy ass five years in real time, so Will’s doing a lot better than you.

OoooooooOooo

We had a lot goin on!!! And what is that supposed to be, parker? are you some kind of ghost?

it made more sense in person

I’ll take your word for it.

It wasn’t a relationship, exactly. It was just something they did, sometimes, if they happened to run into each other on the road. It wasn’t like he was getting invited home for the holidays, or anything, and he was fine with that, really. The long and short of it was, they’d basically been circling each other for years now, professionally, personally, whatever, but the professional stuff was definitely getting in the way of anything else. Because Will would sit down and write out his long, detailed articles with carefully selected photographs that would look just right on the page, while Jeremy had already turned out quick blog entry after quick blog entry, listing off places people should visit with witty little one sentence summaries, and people just ate it right up with a spoon while Adventure., Will’s magazine, slowly saw its sales circling the drain. It stung a little. Maybe more than a little. It wasn’t like he could say the guy wasn’t working hard, but damn. Hell, the best selling issue they’d had in a couple years was the one where Sarah had masterminded a collaboration between Will and Jeremy. Blogging was definitely here to stay.

That night in Belgium was five years ago, and at the time it seemed impossible that the internet would ever really fully overtake print. But bloggers and phones had both gotten smarter over the last five years, and now everyone wanted their news in little chunks that they could read on a screen during their commute, so travel blogs were the hot new thing. Will grimaced as he looked at the blog entries Jeremy already had up from Mexico, where they’d run into each other at least half a dozen times.

Five Reasons You Need to Visit Mexico City Right Now; What You’re Missing Because You’re Not in Monterrey; Everything You Wanted to Know About Agave But Were Too Afraid to Ask

“You gotta be kidding me with this,” he muttered, staring at his phone and thinking about the half-written article he had saved on his laptop detailing the history of agave and how to experience Jalisco as more than just the birthplace of tequila.

He pulled up Sarah’s number and dialed.

“I don’t know how we can compete with this,” he sighed, when she picked up.

“We’re going to have to adapt,” she said. “You know that. I can hear you making a face."

"I don’t want to blog,” he complained. “I like print."

"I know,” she sighed. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’m glad you called, I was going to call you. I need you to go to Italy. Flight leaves tomorrow."

"No way. Not interested,” he told her. “I just got back to my apartment, Sarah, I’ve been in Mexico for a month. I’m beat."

"It’s not my fault that you spend half your time on extracurricular activities,” she teased.

“You can just say sex,” he said. “I won’t be offended. And it’s not half my time. Like, maybe twenty-five percent. Anyway, I get the job done."

"Yeah, and you’re very good at it, which is why I need you to go to Italy,” she said.

“I’m not saying yes,” he told her, “and I’m not interested. But what’s in Italy that’s so important for me to get to?"

"You’ll love this one,” Sarah promised. “It’s a food festival."

Okay, maybe he was a little interested. "Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. His phone buzzed in his ear. “I just emailed you the details. Including your flight info."

"Dammit, Sarah–"

"Oops, emergency, the printer’s on fire, gotta go!” she chirped, and the line disconnected.

Yeah okay that’s Parker huh

Yep!

I do know y'all a little bit.

“Dammit,” Will said again, and opened Sarah’s email to read up on his next destination.

The food festival turned out to be a week long international celebration of local food from around the world. It only happened once every few years in October, when a world of people descended on the city of Torino, and more specifically the park by the River Po, where they set up tents and stands and served pretty much every kind of food you could imagine, and Will loved food and could imagine a lot, so that was saying something. It was pretty cool, seeing all these people from all over the planet showing off food that was important to them, sharing it with strangers. It really was the whole planet, too, the way the park was set up you could walk through a continent at a time, with all the countries on it represented at their own space. He figured he’d pay his respects to the hosts first and start with Italy, which was definitely the largest section. Halfway through the displays he found a stall with some folks from Campania selling fresh mozzarella di bufala the size of his fist for a Euro. It was speared on a stick like a candy apple so he could walk around with it, nibbling on the sweet cheese as he checked out the festival’s other offerings. Aged cheeses covered in mud and straw from a little town in France. A swanky tent with wood plank floors where the Filipino agriculture offices had a set up with big displays dedicated to traditional food and heirloom crops. Six different kinds of wild rice were layered in a glass display bottle in the booth dedicated to Indigenous agriculture in North America. There were folks from the Yucatan peninsula displaying cured meats and wild honey. There was a whole series of displays about preserving, protecting, and raising Maasai red sheep, from Kenya. The whole event was really impressive, actually, and even though his body had no idea what time zone he was in, he didn’t feel too tired– although that might have been more because he’d been downing every cup of coffee from anyone selling it.

Okay, this actually sounds pretty cool. But now you gotta fake a whole food festival like this if we ever use these aliases.

I don’t have to. That’s a real thing. Happens every couple of years. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the next one. Parker can probably find us a job after, anyway.

I’d love– like that.

Hardison. HARDISON.

Why isn’t this deleting the things I tell it to delete???

Ooh, forgot to tell y'all, this chat records your keystrokes? You know. Just in case you happen to type something sappy about how much you love me, and then delete it before you send it in the chat. Pretty much exactly what just happened.

Dammit Hardison I’m gonna delete YOU

Baby, that doesn’t even make any sense.

im w hardison on this 1. it’s ok if u love things eliot. especially food . or us

Just let me finish reading Hardison’s make believe story so I can get back to dinner prep, ok?

(he loves us)

I know :)

Will strolled around the park, snapping photos here and there, jotting down notes. He talked to folks from all over who came here to run their country’s booths, locals who had come out to enjoy the day, and people who had traveled long distances to be there. After a couple of hours and a really good lunch, he found an unoccupied bench near the river and posted up there for a while, notebook open next to him as he flipped through photos on his phone, the story he could tell about this event already starting to take shape in his head, and he had to admit, at least to himself, that Sarah had been right about this one. Nobody else on their staff knew food enough to get this right. But even though he had a good idea where to start, he couldn’t help feeling a little overwhelmed, too. You could spend two weeks here and still not talk to everybody, and it seemed important to try, somehow.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice, and Will looked up from his phone and his notes to see the tall form of none other than Jeremy Edwards.

“Dammit, Edwards,” Will swore. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Again?"

Yeah it’s pretty much EXACTLY like that every time

Mmmhmm. You talk a big game, man, but no one here believes you.

What he said ur like that stuff u put on the dessert u made 4 us last wk

Stuff on dessert– the Italian meringue? You really comparing me to Italian meringue?!

Is that the stuff that was kinda hard and crunchy on the outside but actually really soft and sweet inside?

Yep that’s the stuff

This is the worst conversation we’ve ever had.

It’s weird how I can hear you smiling right now, though.

Shut up, Hardison, I’m reading.

Got him! XD

"Looks like it,” Jeremy said. He took a seat next to Will on the bench, despite the fact that Will had absolutely not fucking offered it to him. He grinned. Will looked back at his notes before he smiled back. “We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, well, trust me, I’m working on it,” Will grumbled, and risked a look at Jeremy again. Still handsome, and still smiling, unfortunately. He thought about the blog a little and made himself frown. “So, you’re here to blog about this, huh? How many blog posts have you done already?"

"None so far,” Jeremy said, scratching his chin, “but I am working on one right now. Tentative title, How to Tell The Guy You’re Casually Seeing And Have Been Chasing All Over the Globe That His Boss Sent Me Here To Work With Him."

Well, there was a lot of information there, but Will decided maybe sticking with the professional stuff was better for now. "I’m sorry, you’re here for what?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Sarah really liked that collaboration thing she got us to do last year, I guess, wanted to try it again for this. I said yes. It’s good for your magazine and it gives my blog some credibility with all you snooty print folks."

"We’re not snooty,” Will said, although that wasn’t exactly true. Maybe they were, a little. He unlocked his phone and saw the email from Sarah, the subject line of which read: “DON’T ARGUE IT WILL BE GOOD FOR YOU/US/THE MAGAZINE.” He sighed and looked back at Jeremy. “I can’t believe she sent you to a food thing."

"I’m offended,” Jeremy said, although it didn’t much sound like it. “I know food."

"Oh really? So last year when we were in Beijing and you were looking for a McDonald’s that was just you knowing food, huh,” Will drawled.

“Sometimes you just really want a Happy Meal,” Jeremy joked, and Will just shook his head.

“I guess we should figure out what we’re doing, then,” he said, and Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

“About the story,” he said, “right?"

"Yeah, about the story,” Will grumbled.

“Whatever you say,” Jeremy said affably, just like always.

It was actually pretty easy to figure out how to cover the festival now that he had a partner in crime. They worked out a plan that afternoon, sketched out a couple of pieces, a collab for Adventure., a short guest piece for Will on The Travel Geek, and a short story in the magazine for Jeremy. Sarah signed off on everything from afar– “What time is it where she is? Does that woman ever sleep?” Jeremy asked, as they both got email after email. “I don’t think she does, man,” Will laughed– and they got to work pretty quick. There was plenty to do and they were both here for a few days, so they wandered through the park as they worked, stopping occasionally to sample food or take photos. Eventually they walked all the way out of the park and into the city, up to a big plaza, Piazza Castello, in the center of the historic part of town. They got gelato from one of the many carts set up nearby for the festival, and sat outside, eating and talking as the sun set.

It was nice. It was always nice, when they ran into each other. That wasn’t the problem. But they’d been stuck in the same routine for years now: they’d find themselves in the same place, Jeremy would laugh, Will would pretend he was annoyed, and then they’d spend a good chunk of their time together enjoying each other’s company in as many ways as they could find, and then they’d head to the airport and go their separate ways. And that was that. This shouldn’t be any different, but somehow it was. Maybe it was the sunset lighting up Jeremy’s skin, or maybe he’d just been lonely too long, but maybe they needed to figure out what they were doing with more than just the stories they were here to tell.

“You wanna get dinner?” Will said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, smiling again, and this time Will let himself smile back. Just a little.

They asked around for recommendations and ended up at a little restaurant in the city, a few blocks from the Piazza. They split a bottle of wine, a margherita pizza, and some perfectly fried fish, and they didn’t really talk about work at all.

“You know,” Jeremy said, about halfway through the wine, “not for nothing, but I’ve gotta say, this looks and feels a lot like a date."

"I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be opposed to that,” Will said.

“Oh, I’m not opposed,” Jeremy told him, “I’m just a little surprised you’re asking. I figured at this point it was gonna have to be me who said something."

Will eyed him carefully, thought back to a lot of nights on a lot of trips. "How long exactly have you been waiting around?"

"I mean, don’t get the wrong idea, here, I haven’t been pining away for you like some Victorian in a bad novel,” Jeremy said, and Will snorted. “But yeah. I played a long game, man. I gotta say, though, after that fishing boat incident in Guyana I really thought you figured out we had a thing."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to notice, I was too busy taking pictures of you hiding behind that skinny British guy when that big old fish jumped out of the water,” Will snickered.

“Big old– that thing was two-hundred and thirty-four pounds of ichthyological torpedo headed straight for yours truly,” Jeremy said, and Will chuckled. “Big doesn’t really describe it.”

“Hmm. It was kinda wild he thought we were gonna get in the water with it,” Will mused. He winked. “Glad you finally remembered you owed me dinner for keeping him from pushing us into the river."

"Ha. You know Sarah wants us to work with that guy again, right?"

"Aw, hell,” Will said. “Really?"

"Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “She said she was gonna talk to you about it when we got back from this. Canada this time, so when Mister Fisherman tries to throw me in the water at least the hypothermia will probably get me before the monster fish does."

"Nah,” Will said. “Don’t worry about that. Nobody throws you off a fishing boat. Except maybe me. No. Well. Maybe. No,” he concluded.

Hah. I mean, okay, that does sound like me.

Oh, I am aware, trust me.

“Sarah maybe also mentioned we might do a few more of these little…collaborative things,” Jeremy said, drawing invisible circles on the table. “Maybe even in a more formal capacity."

Will raised his eyebrows. "No way she talked you into giving up the blog."

"Oh, definitely not,” Jeremy said. “But funnily enough, people keep sending me emails about wanting a print version of some of my photographs? But I don’t really have the publishing connections. A magazine, though…” he shrugged. “Me and Sarah figured we might come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement, somehow. Might be seeing more of you, is what I’m trying to say."

"Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, and reached out across the table to cover Jeremy’s hand with his.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jeremy answered, and this time Will didn’t try to hide his smile.

/end

Okay?

Okay, what?

Well where the hell is the rest of it?

What rest of it? It’s clearly implied that they’re dating now. They’re dating, they’re happy, they’re gonna work together for real, happily ever after, et cetera.

they should have at least kissed. i would be into that

This is what I’m saying. Where’s the resolution, here?

Baby, anytime you want a kiss, you know where to find me.

What I want is for you to take this seriously since you’re making us read all of it.

Wow, okay. Here:

They walked around the city for a long time after dinner, still holding hands, and the kiss they shared later under the moonlight felt like a promise. The Actual End.

Y'all happy?

too sappy 4 me but idk what eliot thinks

Not your best work but it’ll do, I guess.

Are you still in the kitchen?

Yeah, why?

I’m gonna come give you a demonstration of my best work, that’s why.

Bring it on, man.

do i get a demo too

You know it.

#author: coffeesuperhero #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #hardison x eliot #leverage #ot3tropetober #submission

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