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#because you're opening yourself up and digging your own grave at the same time

odditycircus-2002 · 3 months

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So you know that one ask you did about Medusa Reader and Baraka kissing like Harley and Ivy? Well, now I can't stop thinking about the time Harley and Ivy canoodling for the first time and waking up next to each other, shocked and embarrassed, but make it Medusa and Baraka.

A/N: One awkward moment between the monster couple, coming up! 😈😈😈

“One Night”

Starting off slow and simple, becoming one in each other's embrace with Baraka buried deep in your heat. Your tongues slide over the other and occasionally coiling around each other, until both of your break for breath. His forehead pressed against your own in a silent vow.

"I won't ever break your trust."

Baraka seemed to say.

...

Empress Mileena was generous to give you and Baraka rooms at the Palace during the feast meant to honor the latter for long overdue recognition for his service towards the Empire. It's been awhile since you slept in a real bed. While you've grown accustomed to sleeping on a mat while working with the Tarkatan Colony, you'd be lying if you said a part of you sometimes didn't miss the simple luxury of a soft bed, and warm comforters; or the wine from the Palace's winery that you may have gone a bit overboard with if the dull throbbing in your temple is any indicator. You must have also enjoyed the festivities too much as well because, you're lower half, especially the pelvic region feels sore.

'Oh well,'

You absentmindedly think to yourself as you turn on your side, digging yourself more into the comforters which smelt of old leather and dust mix with that familiar sour tang of Tarkat, very similar to Baraka. Speaking of, when you cracked an eye open to spot the former tribune sleeping before you, looking far more peaceful than you could recall in your memory.

'Wait...'

"Y/N!?!"

Baraka reacts a nanosecond faster than you as he jumps away from you in bed, his bed, not caring how the bedsheets fall away from his pelvis as he does so, exposing a plethora of bite marks and claw marks. At the same time, you wrap the comforter around you and will your snakes to wrap around your eyes, with your bat-like wings acting as extra security to your naked body. Baraka swore profusely under his breath as he turned his head away from you.

"This was a grave mistake. I shouldn't have done this! I shouldn't have done this! I shouldn't have done this!"

The former tribune and merchant red eyes a widened in panic as he starts scrambling for his clothing. All the while hastily searching for the serum he knows you keep in your belt, nearly tearing up the room in his search. You, however, have a much calmer reaction as you start to redress; well, as much as you could, since some of your undergarments were torn to ribbons. Luckily, your mask remained untouched on the bedside table.

But then as the night grew longer, you soon found yourself pinned down your stomach, blindly clawing at the pillows and tearing the sheets. Behind you, is a bestial man pounding his hips against your ass, one hand pushing down on the back of your head, your snakes coiling tightly around his wrist as if intending to never let him go, and the other gripping your hips so tightly that thin lines are left in your F/C scales.

"Oh! Baraka! Baraka! Bara- KAAAAHHHHH!!!"

"The passionate fornication or the drinking?"

You try to awkwardly joke which went completely over Baraka's head, who tore open a wardrobes door off its hinges.

"Both! All of it! Where's the anti-tarkat serum, Y/N? I know without a shadow of a doubt that I've infected you with my disease! Perhaps if we give it to you now, it'll completely eradicate the disease itself before it can take ahold of you!"

The Tarkatan brow furrows deeply as he starts to hyperventilate, his expression taking on that of a panicked animal.

"Where is it?"

"Baraka, it'll be alright,"

"Where it it?!? "

"We were both drunk and so our judgements were clouded,"

WHERE IS IT!?!"

"BARAKA!"

The latter whips his head around in his direction, his heart ready to burst from his chest, before he feels the frozen blood in his veins melting at the sight of the familiar yellow liquid in your hands. You then speak in a calm and assuring voice.

"I have it, right here."

You then proceed to rake off the protective covering on the needle and inject it into your neck, biting back a grunt of pain as the large needle penetrates into a major neck artery. Yet, it was worth it to see the panic and anxiety melt away from Baraka's twisted face. You give him a gentle smile, even though you know he can't see it behind your mask. This reprieve, however, is shattered, once again by Baraka.

"I put you in danger."

Your dear friend then leaves the room, slamming the door behind him before you could protest. You get up to follow after Baraka, his name on your lips before they die out before they could even uttered. Yet, as soon as you take a couple steps outside the room, you stop.

‘What if Baraka’s right?’

You think to yourself. Before you can stop yourself, your mind goes into Apothecary mode. You reason to yourself how you always would quarantine anyone who comes into contact with a plague, especially after close contact. You and Baraka definitely fell under that category. The only reason why everyone in court was able to celebrate with Baraka was because Mileena and other courtesans were wearing masks per your and your peers’ recommendation. You made long physical contact with Baraka without any mask or protection in more ways than one. Tarkat’s transmission is largely unknown, but it’s reasonable to think the more contact, the higher the chance of infection.

'That settles it,'

You give yourself a heavy sigh before resigning to pull out some parchment and ink from the thrown desk to write a letter for Baraka to pass on to Empress Mileena. You first instructed the Empress to burn the bedsheets and wipe every surface head to toe in the most distilled alcohol they have while taking the utmost caution to wear proper protection. Secondly, you explain that you'll be staying in the guest chambers that Mileena has provided for you for the next 28 days, strongly emphasizing how no one is to enter until the quarantine is over for the safety of all in the palace.

After finishing the letter, you exited Baraka's room before swiftly returning to yours. You enter your room just as Baraka enters the hall and enters back into his room. Meanwhile, you lock your room's door behind you. You lean back against the door before slumping onto the ground and bury your head into your knees.

'Focus on your breathing. Inhale for 2 seconds, hold for 4 more, then release at 8.'

You try to focus on your own advice and keep calm lest you make any possible tarkat infection worse. As a Healer who decided to pursue the cure of Tarkat, you were always aware of the high probability of infection and even death. You had long since resigned yourself from those odds because they were a given in your chosen profession. However, while you did feel some fear at the looming threat of infection, it's overshadowed by the possibility of Baraka blaming himself for infecting you in the first place. You fear that infection could break Baraka's indomitable determination.

Your eyes burn with tears, wanting to spill out, and your throat's walls begin to close in on themselves. You have no regrets about that night, not when you got to hold Baraka close to you without any barriers. But, you may just come to pray that night never happened should worse come to worse.

'I just hope it wasn't all a mistake.'

Playlist while writing this:

"Flesh" By Simon Curtis

"Higher" By Michael Buble

"Hypnotized" By Simon Curtis

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mortal kombat 1 #baraka x reader #mk1 #ask answered #anon ask #baraka #baraka mk #cw: sex mention #mk1 2023 #18+ mdni #Mileena

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titlemewickedwonderland · 11 months

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Fear Me Not - Rain

Summary: No fear is irrational to those who have to face it! Sometimes you have someone to help you through it and sometimes you face it alone. But no one will know how strong you are until you find yourself facing your fear. Sophie found that out in the sweetest way when she faced with her worst fear.

Pairing: Rain x Sophie (oc)

Phobia: Aquaphobia: Fear of water

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She was raised being a shy girl no one really could get close to because of her timid nature. It didn't mean she didn't care about other people; it just meant that growing up she was sheltered a lot as a kid. While being the youngest daughter in her family her parents made sure not to make the same mistakes they did with her older sister Abby and thus she involuntarily became the naive shy girl people picked on because of her lack of experience. She imagined if her parents could see her now they'd be disapproving all around of her lifestyle. Ever since she came to join the Clergy out of curiosity she'd opened up and made some friends; not many but enough that it made her life feel a little more full. Her golden goose was somehow catching the eye of one of Papa's ghouls. A choice for many reasons her parents wouldn't have approved of. So what would they say if they saw her lying in bed right now with a man she wasn't married to? Flip out and lock her in her gilded cage no doubt.

But she was learning not to care what other people thought; so what if she was cuddled up beneath piles of blankets and pillows with a man she wasn't married to? Did it honestly matter? Even if they weren't married it wasn't as if they were sleeping together in 'that' way!

Sophie's eyes roamed Rain's unmasked features as it lay inches away from her; oh yeah, her parents would freak out if she knew she had this sort of relationship with a man that she was not legally bonded to - they'd probably dig their own graves if they knew he wasn't even human. But did she care? Of course not. Rain may not be human but he sure did act more like one than her parents half the time; at least he could be talked to and listened to her.

Sophie smiled and reached up from beneath the warmth of the blanket to brush a dark strand of hair that was hanging in his face to better examine his features; smiling when she heard his little sleepy purr at the faint contact and burrowed closer to her. He was so sweet. Maybe not as shy and timid as her but if it wasn't for him she'd probably never had the courage to break out of her shell a little more day by day.

"What's the smile for?" Rain's voice mumbled without even looking at her and Sophie pulled her hand away quickly with a blush of embarrassment at being caught.

The water ghoul sought that retreating hand and placed it back on his face; placing a little kiss on her palm as his liquid blue eyes peeked open from beneath thick lashes to peer at her. At her expression, his lips curled up lazily and a long finger tapped her nose playfully.

"Nothing...it's nothing," Sophie replied shyly burying her face into the pillow trying to hide.

the ghoul gave a little hum and pulled her closer by her waist and cuddled her to his chest; nuzzling his nose against her temple content to just hold her. He never made her tell him things if she didn't want it - it was an easy relationship and for once Sophie felt seen and heard...cared for in a way no one had made her feel in a long long time.

"You're just pretty when you sleep." she finally piped up as she idly played with the ends of his wavy hair around his pointed ears; fascinated by their shape as she traced the pointed corner.

Rain let out a little chitter sound and smiled at her. "Pretty huh?"

Sophie blushed again and huffed closing her eyes while tucking her head beneath his chin; listening to his heartbeat beneath his white T-shirt. It was nice not having to be up for anything today - although she probably had to but she knew if she tried to leave Rain would just cling harder and warn anybody else away. Sister Imperator learned real quick despite some of the ghouls being even-tempered part of their decompression time involved stealing away their significant others...she didn't want to step between that; not out of moral respect but because she learned when the ghouls started showing their interest in some of the sisters it was for her own health not to withhold them from the ghouls (even before the ghouls had put claim to them). That lesson was learned when Dewdrop caused just a fit he was snapping at every sibling until Lily was called to leave her shop to calm the ghoul down.

"What's on your mind?" Sophie blinked back to reality and shrugged a shoulder.

"Just thinking about something," she murmured with a smile. "Just happy not to have to do chores today."

Rain snickered as he realized what she was talking about. "Ah, I see." he his voice was tinged with amusement.

"Hey, did you have anything planned for today? Or are we going to lay here all day?" Sophie suddenly piped up; her head raising to look up at the water ghoul who looked like he was falling back asleep.

"Hmm? Oh, no not really." he replied with a yawn before peeking his eyes open again. "Did you have any ideas?"

Sophie pursed her lips and sat up in bed; tugging the shirt she was wearing - one of his, over her knees as she did. "I was thinking...if you weren't too tired we could go on a picnic today! It's nice outside and I have been practicing cooking while you were away." she offered biting her lip as she glanced at him hopefully.

Rain sat up with her and ruffled his hair a bit before resting his head on her shoulder; long arms wrapping around her waist as he snuggled into her and she leaned back against the pillows to allow Rain to rest against her chest; smiling when he began purring like a little cat as he nuzzled into her.

"That sounds nice. Maybe we can invite Mountain and Avery too?"

"Oh. Well, I was thinking Mountain had something planned already for Avery. I wouldn't want to disturb them from their first day back together." she said thoughtfully. "But we can if you'd like the company?"

"Oh no, lilypad I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't want you all to myself!" Rain's head popped up and his eyes grew big. "I'd love to steal you away for a picnic!" he smiled at her and Sophie blushed with a smile on her face.

"Okay!"

"How about we go to the pond and do some swimming! I've missed the water." Rain added but when he looked back at Sophie her expression had fallen into one of nervousness.

"Hey....what is it?" Rain sat up and sat cross-legged beside her.

Sophie rubbed her face trying to smooth away the expression that made Rain worried and instead shot him a sheepish smile but wouldn't look him in the eyes; instead letting them focus on the soft fabric of his blanket in her lap.

"I..." she swallowed squeezing her eyes closed as she prepared herself for judgment. "I...I'm afraid of the water, Rain."

How stupid was that? Being afraid of water when she was dating a water ghoul! When she was younger she had nearly drowned in the lake on vacation when she was 8 and she'd never really recovered from that event. She could still shower just fine and she didn't mind rainstorms but when it came to bodies of water that submerged her made her panic.

"You're afraid of the water?" Rain repeated slowly and Sophie felt the tall tale signs of tears stinging behind her closed eyelids as she nodded.

"I know it's stupid and I probably should have told you sooner since you're a water ghoul and everything...water is part of your world and I'm just-"

A finger pressed to her rambling lips and she opened her eyes to look at Rain. He had a determined look on his face that softened as he studied her expression.

"Sophie..." he murmured rubbing her cheek. "It's okay if you're afraid of water, lilypad. It doesn't make me love you any less," he reassured her before reaching over to pull her up into his lap.

"But...I'd like it if you'd let me help you with your fears," he added after a moment.

Sophie's eyes widened when she realized what he'd met. "Rain I-" she felt her hands tremble thinking of getting in the water.

"Will you let me love?" he asked pressing his forehead against hers. "Will you let me help you face your fears?"

He was so sweet. But she was afraid that her fear of water was too big for him to tackle. But he wanted to try and she couldn't deny him that much. So she gave him a tiny nod and hugged his neck.

"It might be a big ask Rain..." she mumbled

"I'm up for a challenge." he shot her a little smile as he nudged her nose with his before placing a little kiss on the tip. "Why don't you get our picnic ready okay? I'll join you in the courtyard in a little bit." he offered.

Sophie nodded before climbing out of the bed and gathering her clothes together that she'd folded and sat on his desk the night before. She paused at the door as she opened it to leave before she looked back with a worried look on her face.

"Rain...a-are you sure about this?" she asked biting her lip.

The water ghoul smiled her a grin. "Only if you are."

She nodded after a moment of thinking it over before she slipped out the door wondering if she had just made a big mistake agreeing to this.

She wasn't sure about this but she'd promised Rain he could try and so she kept to her word. After an hour or so she'd met Rain in the courtyard as promised; holding onto a picnic blanket and a basket filled with goodies while he carried a bag filled with towels and a...pool noodle over his shoulder? It was actually an adorable image; especially since he'd wore nothing but a T-shirt and some swimming trunks instead of the usual black ghoul attire completed by a mask.

This made her feel a little better at his comfort around her; she too had taken the extra step into putting on something she could wear. It wasn't a swimsuit as she didn't go in a body of water deep enough to swim because of her phobia but she had borrowed a pair of shorts and a tank top to wear to go swimming in at least.

The walk to the pond was short and the setup was even shorter as they sat down on the picnic blanket with all the food surrounding them. Rain didn't eat much - the flick of his tail expressing his silent excitement to go swimming. Sophie was nervous and nibbled on her food; thankful that Rain didn't rush her and instead told her all about what had happened on tour while he was away. She'd listened intently giving him her full attention - finding that his stories helped distract her from the task ahead.

But before she knew it she was done with her food and Rain took notice of this as he finally looked over at her. His face softened a bit as he held up a hand.

"You ready lilypad?" he asked softly and Sophie tried to buy a little more time by putting items away so no bugs would get to their food.

"We don't have to do it if you don't want to honey you know I won't pressure-" Rain watched her movements but the sister shook her head quickly stopping him.

"It's okay...I have to face it, Rain...and if I'm going to do it...I want to do it with you." the girl replied taking a breath.

Rain seemed pleased by this answer as he rose from the blanket and held his hand out to her again which she took with a glance of trepidation at the water's edge that was just a few feet away from where they had been sitting.

She allowed her lover to pull her towards the water but stopped at its edge looking at the murky depths ahead of her and swallowing the panic starting to rise in her throat.

"Want me to get the pool noodle?" Rain offered from his spot knee-deep in the water.

She thought about it. Should she? He wouldn't blame her if she said yes. But could she trust an inanimate object to keep her safe if something happened? No, of course not. So she shook her head.

"No...Just...just you." she finally puffed out a breath.

Rain purred at this; happy she felt confident enough to allow him to help her through this. So he grabbed her hand and slowly led he one step and then another into the water; keenly watching for signs of panic as the water rose to her ankles, calves, and then paused at her knees - allowing her to take in the feel of the water. He loved the water - any sort of water. Whether it was a shower, a bathtub, or the pond. It was his element after all. He was keen to dive in and explore but not now; not when he had something more important that needed his attention, like his girlfriend who was afraid of water.

"You okay so far?" he asked squeezing her hand.

Sophie's eyes were closed tightly as she tried to breathe; the scent of the murky water was overpowering as much as the sound of water lapping at the bank causing a shiver of dread to roll up her spine but Rain's hand was warm and steady in hers reminding her she wasn't alone. So she braved it and gave him a nod signaling him she was okay.

And so he pressed on. Grabbing her other hand and slowly coaxed her deeper until the water reached her waist; her tanktop floating around her waist in the water causing a whimper to escape her tightly pressed lips from the feel of the water beyond the barrier of cloth.

"It's okay. You're doing so good, love. Almost there. Want to go a little further?" Rain asked studying her face not wanting to push her too far too quickly.

Sophie's hands didn't let go of him but instead left his hands to slither up his arms until she was gripping his shoulders for solid stability. She nodded with jerky movements; clearly not comfortable but to stubborn to back out now.

"Alright." Rain gripped her waist and took a few steps backward until the ground vanished from beneath his feet - pulling her with him. The minute the mushy ground beneath her vanished she let out a yelp and latched around his neck to hold on so she didn't drown as she felt the water reach up her chest and shoulders.

The water ghoul wrapped his arms around her waist and held her securely against him as he idly kicked the water to stay afloat; it was no hard feat for a water ghoul as the familiar feel of his webbed toes helping him tread the water even with the weight of another hanging off of him.

"It's alright, Soph. I got you. Breathe honey I'm right here." Rain murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to her head.

"Don't let me go Rain...please don't let me drown!"

The male chuckled against her hair and squeezed her as he swam a little further from the bank. "Never, lilypad. I got you. You're safe." he promised.

Sophie clung to him like her life depended on it; feeling more like a dead weight than anything else but her boyfriend had no problem with keeping her afloat. Despite the coolness of the water his body was solid and just slightly warmer than the water itself giving her a sense of stability as she dared to open her eyes a bit to look around.

They were a good swim from the shore bank so if anything were to happen she wouldn't be able to swim back so her life was literally in the hands of the water ghoul.

"How does it feel?" Rain asked craning his head to look at her face as he idly swam around in circles.

"I-I don't know...okay, I guess?" Sophie mumbled watching as the light reflected on the water's surface. "the reflections are pretty..."

he laughed nodding idly along. "Yeah they are." he agreed. "Think you'd like to try to keep yourself afloat or do you need a minute to get comfortable?" he added idly rubbing her sides comfortingly.

"No!" her grip tightened in a panic at the thought of not having him to support her.

"Shh... it's okay." Rain chittered softly. "That's alright. Maybe another time. Take all the time you need."

He idly swam around with her clinging to him like a little koala in the water but he could tell after some time her body was less rigid than before and her eyes were soft as she watched the water as they swam. She was relaxing and getting comfortable; a good sign for Rain. But he wouldn't push too far today so instead he tapped her leg to gain her attention.

"You ready to head back to land?" he asked studying the water the light was swimming over her features from the reflection of sunlight from the water's surface.

Sophie hummed softly and nuzzled into his neck. "No...Can we stay like this awhile longer?" she murmured a bit bashful now feeling a blush heat her cheeks.

"Water is not too scary now is it?" Rain laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.

"Oh, it's terrifying!" Sophie was quick to disagree before her expression softened into a smile. "But...I-I supposed it's not half bad when you're here with me." she confessed - daring to let go with one arm in favor of dragging her hand through the water.

Rain felt a spark of appreciation for the girl; so scared but yet so brave to face it. He reached up to tip her head towards him and press a sweet kiss to her lips. "That makes me happy." he said softly nuzzling against her cheek.

"My strong brave girl."

Sophie flushed and buried her face against his neck but her lips were curved up into a smile as she let Rain hold her and the water lull her. They stayed like that for a few more hours until the sun was starting to set and Sophie's fingertips looked like prunes before Rain finally swam them back to shore. They lay out there to dry on the blanket while lying under the fading light and the beginning of the stars until the chilling air of night began to make Sophie shiver.

"Hey, how about we go inside and take a bath to warm up before a movie night hmm?" Rain asked

Sophie smiled up at him from where she lay beside him and nodded. "Yeah...I'd like that." she finally agreed.

As they began to pack up and start their walk back towards the abbey and ghouls wing Sophie couldn't help but hug his arm close to her and smile up at him with a soft look of adoration.

"Hey Rain?" she spoke up.

"Yes, droplet?"

"Thank you for today. It...It meant a lot to me. For what you did for me today." she confessed

Rain looked down at her and his lips curled into the sweetest smile ever as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Anytime, my love."

Taglist: @darklylucid @strawberry-moonpies

#Ghost #Ghost band #Ghost fandom #nameless ghouls #Rain ghoul #water ghoul #rain x oc #rain oneshot #fear me not series #mini series #nameless ghoul rain #ghost band oneshot

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farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Foreigner's God: Chapter 16

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: It's the morning after - but is it really a 'morning after' if the events repeat themselves?

Warnings: Smut (anywhere but a bed), dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, orgasm control, clit slapping, degradation, choking, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Matt, p in v (unprotected), breeding kink, cum play, religion kink, blasphemy, slight angst at the beginning, mentions of grooming and an awkward conversation about sex

Word Count: 14.4k

A/n: I'm just digging my own grave here. How far in hell do you guys think I'll go when I die? Surely, there is a place reserved for especially horny fuckers like me (and you, if you're reading this. No offense, we're all the same here. There's no shame in this game period)

I literally just spat on catholicism (and all of Christianity, for that matter) in this one... If you don't like the use of religious imagery during sex, do not read on!

Read Chapter 16: Do I Wanna Know? here on AO3!

18+ MINORS DNI

Sex is amazing, rough sex even more so, as long as both parties enjoy it. What’s not amazing is the morning after. Sometimes it’s awkward, other times it involves tremendous guilt, and even if it doesn’t involve either thing, the soreness sucks.

Eliza woke up to the sun tickling her skin and forcing her to awake. She turned around, looking at the alarm clock next to the bed. Matt was gone. Her hand met the air when she touched his side of the bed. The time showed 11:32 am. It was late, pretty late.

She almost forgot what happened the night before. The sudden movement shot pain straight through her core. Her panties were suddenly too rough and the shirt brushed terribly over her breasts. Her neck was bruised, she could feel the way the skin pulled just underneath her fingers. But oh, did it feel victorious.

She took a careful glimpse at her hips. The hickeys were more than prominent, one on either side, and there were marks of the same proportions sucked into the insides of her thighs. She loved them. She loved every last mark he left on her because it reminded her of what happened. It wasn't supposed to feel good. She wasn't supposed to feel so happy, not with everything else going on. There was no time for this, technically. Practically though, she couldn't possibly go without having him inside of her again and again and again for an entire day. It felt like a virtual impossibility.

“Shit,” she cursed quietly. She could barely stand. Her legs were trembling. If Matt picked up on that, she would never hear the end of it.

Eliza slid the bedroom door open. He must have closed it again after leaving to keep the sounds out. Plates were clattering in the kitchen. The coffee maker sizzled. Slow jazz music was playing. She crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame, watching Matt with his back turned as he poured the scrambled eggs into the pan.

“Good morning,” he said.

She scoffed. Of course, he heard her. "Hey," she said. Her voice was still thick with sleep, a little raspy too. She couldn't see him, but he was smiling. "You always let your hook-ups wake up alone?"

He tensed up at the joke.

"Sorry." She realized how that had sounded. "I was just..." her hand trailed off along with her words.

She missed his touch. She wanted him to move from the kitchen and hug her, do anything but stand several feet away from her. The weather outside was warm, she knew it was, yet she was freezing, and not because she was lacking clothes.

“I wanted to let you sleep in," he clarified. "Despite what you keep telling yourself, you need sleep. And you know, you’re adorable when you sleep, so I did us both a favor.”

Finally, he turned to look at her. There was this glint in his eyes again, and he was smiling, competing with the sun streaming in through the tainted windows.

Eliza hugged her arms around herself. Damn it, he looked so beautiful. Her heart skipped a beat, and then another one and another until she felt like she couldn't breathe, and suddenly she was more than glad that Matt wasn't close to her. She would have pushed him away.

He took her silence and changed the topic. "Breakfast is almost done," he said.

She took a closer look at his get-up. He was dressed in his work suit, the grey one, minus the jacket and the tie. Both hung over one of the chairs at the dining table. He had combed his hair and the bruises on his face appeared fainter than the day before – did he steal her concealer or did he keep one for emergencies?

“I used yours.”

“You can read minds now?” she asked.

He chuckled. “No, but you tend to think pretty loudly.” When he finally turned fully around, he was smiling. It was a full one, the one she liked.

“If you say so.”

Matt carried the plates to the table. She caught glimpse of the croissants and the orange juice, amongst the other various breakfast choices he had laid out for them. He even cut up some fruit.

“You went shopping,” she observed.

“Didn’t want to serve you beer and cereal, which were the only things I had left in my fridge. So I thought, what if I just bought some milk, but then again, who serves their guests cereal for breakfast? That would have been really sad. Anyway, that’s why I got some more stuff to, uh, choose from. Eggs, fruit, bread - you know, the good stuff. All without meat, I made sure of that.”

Eliza bit down on her thumb. If the heart were the same type of organ as the penis, she would have gotten an obvious boner by now. “And you did this all for me?”

“Sure,” he said. It was natural. Making her breakfast, doing all the things no one had ever done for her before. But it wasn’t supposed to be. “I noticed you don’t eat enough. Your blood sugar bottoms out, your heartbeat is either too fast or too slow, and your stomach grumbles a lot.” His silly chuckle somehow made her smile, too. “If you don’t want to do it for yourself, that’s fine, but then at least do it for me. I’m the one who has to listen to your body scream for sustenance. It’s irritating.”

“Duly noted,” she said.

“You need to know," he leaned on the back of his chair with the veins on his forearm popping out like he was intentionally trying to kill her, "I don't usually do breakfast.”

The conversation she had been dreading.

He chuckled, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, the evidence of just how uncomfortable he felt. “Foggy likes to call me a manwhore and you know, maybe he's right. I don’t really keep count, that would be weird, but relationships and I… we’re not speaking terms. Pun intended.”

She nodded again.

“I thought it'd be only fair to tell you that most of my mornings after don't go like this. Not like I can't tell you already knew that by the way your heartbeat just picked up, and you’re listening to me, so I take that as a sign that you’re not about to smack the hell out of me, but yeah... I felt the need to say it out loud. Open communication, you know. Get it all out there.”

Admitting to having an active sex life shouldn’t have to feel so humiliating.

Her bare feet patted closer to him. “I figured that much,” she said. The thought of him with other women made her feel insecure all of a sudden.

"Okay.” Matt took another deep breath, pushing himself off the chair again. “What I'm trying to tell you is that you're not like everyone else. You're not some woman I picked up in a bar to have sex with just to get the edge off. No. I know you think that but it's not true. I wouldn’t do that to you, not ever. That’s not… I’m trying not to be like that anymore. Have been for a long time. I just get weak sometimes and I can’t help it, but I promise you, it’s been a long time. I haven’t had anyone over in a while. If I did, I would tell you.”

Eliza nodded. "Okay." She chose to believe him.

"I'd like to take care of you if you'll let me, just to prove to you that I meant everything that I said last night." He motioned to the table. "I care about you, and I don’t want this to ruin us. It’s the last thing I want, believe me. Please? Let me take care of you, Eliza.” She couldn't say no to his smile either.

He was surprised at her following actions. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting her head right in his neck and the rest of her barely covered body right on his. He hugged her back. His arms wrapped all the way around her, holding her close to his chest. His heart skipped a beat. She couldn't feel it. He was more than glad she didn't share the same abilities.

Matt wasn't sure what he was doing. He had told her the truth without actually telling her and now he felt guilty. He felt guilty because he was still carrying the same, big secret he had taken her to bed with. He had sex with her. He made her breakfast. He was acting as if they were in a committed relationship and he didn't mind. In fact, he loved it, but Eliza was complex. He could hear the confusion in the way she moved. Her attraction seemed entirely physical.

She cared more than the general population, she was a good friend, an even better person, and a hero, but there was one thing she couldn't do: Love. Eliza wasn't sure how to fall in love or how to even stay in it. She hated herself. Truly, she was incapable of relationships that went beyond sex and since that seemed to be what Matt was starting to want, she found herself in the worst position possible.

What the hell are we supposed to do now?

She kissed him as if that would answer her question and solve the internal battle she had to fight with herself. It just momentarily eased the ache. Finally, he kissed back. She could lose herself in that feeling forever. It was much better than love or friendship. It was an easy feeling to sort. Physical attraction made sense.

"Thank you, Matt," she said. It seemed like the appropriate thing to say, and she meant it, every last syllable.

He pressed his forehead to hers. She sensed sadness in his eyes. The colors were dancing tango around his soul.

"Yeah, of course," he hummed back.

"No, seriously. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Die, probably."

"Yeah, probably."

"C'mon.” He squeezed her hips. "Let's eat breakfast.“

She lowered herself down on the hardwood chair. The second her ass hit the surface, she regretted ever considering sitting down. Her wince didn’t go unnoticed, but that was to be expected.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. She was lying.

Matt sighed. He opened the fridge, retrieving the ice pack he kept there for the many nights he came home with a black eye. Either that or he used frozen beans. He walked around her and dropped it in her lap, gently pushing it against her aching core. She hissed. It was cold and the pressure sent shockwaves through her body. She was incredibly overstimulated.

He rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Cue the catholic guilt. He traced over her neck, feeling the blood pooling underneath where his fingers used to be. His voice cracked, “Is it bad?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?”

She caught his hand. “No, Matt, I’m okay. Just sore.” She shifted to readjust the ice pack. Her legs protested. “Like, very sore,” she said, and that made him chuckle. "Seriously, it's like a whole bench truck rolled over me, or I accidentally sat down on a beehive, and now everything's on fire."

He laughed at her bluntness. "Sitting on a beehive does not sound fun. Have you done it before?”

“Shut up!" she snorted. "I asked for it, remember? My body just isn’t used to this anymore. Having sex, I mean. It’s been a long time for me too, y’know. Very long.”

“Oh.”

“About a year and a half, to be exact, and it lasted for about five minutes instead of five rounds. So, this is all a bit confusing for me, too.”

His head snapped around. “What?!” he blinked, “Why didn’t you tell me?” The question came soft. "I would have been gentler." He brushed over the bruise on her throat again. It was fading by the second, but he couldn’t see that. His mind switched to the ice pack, then he remembered the many hickeys he couldn’t help but leave. She was completely covered in him. But at what cost?

“I shouldn’t have squeezed this hard,” she heard him mutter. “I should have been in better control of myself?”

“Are you kidding me?” She stared at him. “Why do you feel guilty for something I wanted and clearly enjoyed?”

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t look like someone jumped you.”

“That’s because I was jumped. By you.”

“Okay,” he chuckled drily, “but the choking…”

“Was something I asked for. Besides, I bruise like a fucking peach. You’re not special.”

His eyebrows shot up. It took him a moment to process.

“You heard me,” she said. “Don’t give yourself too much credit. You’re not that strong.”

A laugh bubbled out of him. “You really have no filter, do you?” he said.

“No.”

“God.” His chin tilted upwards. “You’re…”

“What?” She smirked.

“I don’t- you’re crazy.” He wanted to say something else entirely. “I should have asked you before,” he said. “I didn’t think… you made it sound like you do this more often.”

“I used to before Sokovia literally dropped out of the sky,” she told him. “The Avengers kind of went to shit after that. Didn’t have much time to think about sex between all the rules and the people dying around me.”

“Okay, fair point.”

“Hey,” Eliza said and reached for his hand on the table, squeezing it once she finally grabbed a hold of him. “You eased me into it. You didn’t just fuck me, you took your time and you talked to me and I-“ she struggled. She wasn’t sure how to say it without getting emotional. “I’m not used to this, not at all, and it scared me at first, how willing you are to listen to me, but I… I felt seen, for the first time. Do you- does that make sense to you? I’m not- okay, I have no idea how to talk about sex, so I’m just gonna stop now. This is embarrassing.”

Eliza hid behind the lid of her mug, eyes closed. The silence was agonizing. She didn’t want to look at him. There was always the possibility of being resented, and she wouldn’t survive that.

His soft voice and the spoken words made her heart flutter like a little butterfly. “It's not embarrassing," he said.

"It kind of is. I mean, I'm not nearly experienced enough. I don't know how to do this."

"If it makes you feel better, I haven't been in a situation like this before either." He smiled alongside his words. "Like I said, this isn't what I usually do."

"Manwhore," she said, "Yeah, got it."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course, that's the one thing you remember."

"I would have made that deduction myself, but you do this thing with your mouth..." she shook her head, "I don't know. You're pretty good for a manwhore."

"Ah, thank you."

"Not that the bar had been high. That thing was impossibly low. You could have been on your knees and still hit your head.”

His face turned serious, as did his tone. "I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “So it's true then. No one has ever tried to understand what you like. They just took what they wanted, leaving you high and dry.”

"Pretty much," she said.

“Christ, I’m… how did you… why did you…” His frown showed his hard time understanding.

It wasn't all that complicated though. She picked men who chose to have sex for their own pleasure, men who didn't care about their partners, they just wanted to stick their dick somewhere and get off. There was no reason why.

There was no thrill in not enjoying sex, she realized that the second Matt kissed her the night before. He was supposed to be the standard to live by, not some guy off Tinder looking for a fuck-doll. But the number of people who were like Matt was limited to one. There could only be one of him, only one who did it quite like him, and that made her feel a little better.

"I just want to understand why you settled for less than what you deserve," he said, managing to piece his messy thoughts together.

“Don’t ask me," she answered. "After last night, I’m questioning a lot of things myself.”

“The things you like... it should be fun. You should be with someone willing to entertain your fantasies, as long as they don't cross a line, not someone who failed every possible anatomy lesson in high school."

“You wanna tell me that you knew all of that from the beginning?"

"Of course not," he chuckled softly, "but I experimented. I experimented and I learned what it could be like to share intimacy with other people. What it should be like. I had sex because I enjoyed it and I made sure that the other person was just as comfortable as me. It’s what should matter. Of course, you don’t know any of this right after your first time, you learn as you go.”

"My first time was in the dirty bathroom of a bar.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him that. “I was nineteen, the guy was probably thirty-two.”

He blinked. “What?”

The math in his head triggered all sorts of alarms.

“Yeah,” she said. “But I was also high on Oxy at the time, so I wasn’t really there. Mentally, at least.“

Once she got to talking, it was hard to stop. The tension in his shoulders multiplied by the second. Her words hit parts of him that urged the animal out of hiding. The animal that didn’t want her to get hurt. The animal was ready to burn the world down to destroy everyone who had already hurt her and prevent any further damage. The animal that was so carnal, revenge came naturally and as second nature. He just wanted to destroy everyone she told him had hurt her in one way or another because she deserved the best and the people who used her deserved nothing but whatever punishment the devil had planned for them even long before their demise.

“Did he-“

“No. I wanted to. Or I thought I did. I know I said yes, but I didn't know what I was signing up for.”

“I don’t think it counts then. If you didn’t like it, you don’t have to say it was your first time. Virginity is a social construct anyway.”

“I second that, but what’s the point?”

“You could start over.”

“What’s done is done,” she stated.

“No,” he said sternly. “The guy groomed you. That wasn’t sex.”

“You’re right, he did. I’m not even gonna sugarcoat it. It’s bad. He was too old, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I was high. We both were. The consent on this one is a bit dubious but on both ends.“

“Okay.” He took a big breath. “You’re right,” it hurt him to cave. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’m just curious,” he leaned forward, “Why did you continue having sex with people you don’t enjoy it with instead of finding someone you like?”

She supposed the question was fair and accounted for.

"I watched porn.”

“What?”

“To prepare myself, I mean, but there is something inherently wrong about a lot of porn. It doesn't match up with reality at all. Most of it is staged. They fake orgasms, making the watcher believe it's that easy to cum. And everyone enjoys it. When you watch porn, everyone's moaning and they're having the time of their lives, no matter with what partner, so I thought that's what it's like. Fun. Sexy. Pleasing."

"And then the guy picked you up and it was nothing like what you prepared for."

“And I simply thought I was broken, so I accepted it.”

His nostrils flared. "God, this is- I'm sorry."

"No one told me it was going to hurt, that you had to be gentle the first time. I never had the talk because I didn't have parents, and Tony wouldn't bother, which I understand. I wouldn't have wanted him to. I didn't like having sex, I never had an orgasm before, and I was okay with that. It's sex. Everyone does it. Gets your mind off of things, even when you're not enjoying yourself. I don't know, I guess after that first time, I thought that's what sex is like. The guy offered, he showed me the only kind of affection I knew how to deal with and I was just so fucking broken, I couldn't help it. I needed to get rid of a pain that not even the drugs could make disappear, and I'm not even sure what kind of pain it was- is.” She scoffed into her coffee, watching as the liquid parted with her breathing. “I realize now that I might have oversexualized myself because all the men in my life ever did."

She expected a smart comeback, but instead, he took the hand that wasn't holding onto porcelain in both of his and kissed over her knuckles. "You're worth so much more than what they made you believe," he said.

"I keep thinking if someone had just told me, if I had known better, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did," she said. "I don't know. It's a stupid thought. I probably wouldn't have listened anyway."

"You can't put the blame on yourself," he said.

"But I chose to sleep with the wrong people."

"Still not your fault."

She smiled softly, almost sadly. "You put me on too high of a pedestal, Matt."

He shook his head, kissing her knuckles again. Part of him wanted to agree because he knew that. He knew he was thinking of her as some saint, but she wasn't. She was a person. No one is ever truly perfect. She had rough edges, she had issues and she wasn't relationship material. The things she did in the past would never go away. She was tainted. She wasn't the pure, innocent woman he liked to think her to be. But he didn't fall in love with her because he thought that. He fell in love with her because she wasn't perfect. She was far from that. She was neither a sinner nor a saint. She was Eliza. She was his person. He fell in love with her, all of her, not just the perfect picture his subconscious liked to paint. He fell in love with her for her, nothing else, nothing less, and nothing more. She was everything already. She was his world. She was everything he wanted and would ever need by his side. Losing her, he was sure, he wouldn't survive. And for Matt, that was one of the scariest yet exciting things to realize.

He blew over the wetness his lips left behind. She shuddered. The Matt Murdock effect was a dangerous game. "No," he whispered into her skin, hoping his voice would stay tattooed there, his words branded into her brain, "You're right where you need to be."

"And where is that?" she breathed.

"With me." Lovesick, a person would use to describe the look on his face. Trapped in a constant state of bliss.

"What does that mean? For us, I mean."

"I don't know. We'll figure it out." He had no doubts about that.

Eliza sighed. It didn't feel right. All of this was just too damn perfect. She hated perfect. She hated happiness. She hated couples who flaunted their relationships as if it wasn't the hardest thing to do. Most of all though, she hated love, because love is a fucking tricky bitch and she hated what it did to her.

She hated who she was becoming. She hated that she was doing this to him and he had no idea. He had no idea she was going to break his heart. It was the only thing she knew how to do. Whenever a perfect thing presented herself, something good, something stable, something that could possibly heal her broken soul and make her whole again, she felt the sudden urge to destroy it, and she would because that was all she knew how to do. Destroy the only good things in her life.

She was a menace. A wrecking ball. Her powers weren't the problem, and neither was the reality stone - she was.

Her voice was the last crack in the foundation. "I'm sorry." She was sorry for nothing in particular. She was sorry for everything.

He reacted differently from what she expected. He leaned over, grabbed her face, and kissed her. His eyes were glossed over and slightly red, and his lashes were already wet from the transference. "Listen," he called her name softly, "Promise me something?"

Eliza nodded.

"Whenever someone tries to take advantage of you, hurt you, or use you, fight back. And I don't mean physically because I know you're more than capable of that." He stopped to sniffle, trying to divert the tears. Those were tears stemming from a deep, sensitive part of him that constantly wanted to die whenever he was near her - he cared that much. "I mean, you need to fight back and talk about what you want. I need you to use your words to stand up for yourself, and if that's not enough, please, for the love of God, hit whoever tries to hurt you so hard, they will learn what it's like to be blind."

She wasn't sure how to deal with this whirlwind of emotions. He watched in horror as she broke down crying in front of him. Her hand dropped in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks, and the sobs wrecking her body were painful to listen to. Every intake of breath was louder than the next one. If she kept this going, she would hyperventilate. Her heartbeat was already through the roof.

A hand found the back of her neck, moving her forward until she was safe in his arms. She tried to fight it, but Matt was stronger. He held her tightly against him, hoping she could hear his heart beating, hoping she could feel the comforting warmth and realize just how much she meant to him. He wanted that to be enough.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "Fuck! I don't deserve you. I don't."

He shook his head instantly. "Don't do that," he said. "Don't say that."

"I can't do this."

I can't love you.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Whatever this is, we can figure it out."

He was too good for her, to her.

"I promise you," he said, holding her a little further away, just enough to press their foreheads together and her hand against the left side of his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart. "I have you," he said, "and I'm never letting you go. You're mine now and I'm yours. C'mon. You and me against the world, remember?"

"You and me?" she asked. The tears finally subsided, but the numb aching in her chest remained. She needed a remedy, something to reverse the poison her mind shot into her veins, tainting her perception of what she truly wanted.

"It's always gonna be you and me, sweetheart. Until the world ends."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, promise."

Her eyes flicked to his lips. He wet them. There was so much left to discuss, so many things left unsaid, but none of that mattered. She felt trapped in her mind, the place was terrifying, and she needed out. The only way to do so was right in front of her, handsome and bruised, an angel with broken wings.

She kissed him first. The force tilted the chair back, his foot being the only thing keeping them connected to the floor. Eliza threw her entire weight against him as if that somehow would make her melt into him and make her disappear, just for a minute.

Regaining composure, Matt kissed her back with just about the same amount of force. Messy fingers mapped out every last inch of skin he could find. The picture of her was burned into his brain. He knew he could have her simply by saying the word. She would jump at the slightest possibility to please him. And as much as he loved the thought of that, he couldn't follow through with it.

He forced her face away from his. “I think we should talk about this first," he said.

She was afraid of talking. Talking ruined too much. “Why talk when you could do something else?” she said. Words weren't meant for people like her.

He was weak. Pathetic, foolish, idiotic, and the list went on. She flicked the switch and the tables turned. He licked his lips. “I can’t,” but he wanted to. “I’ve got an appointment with the prison Fisk is being held in.” Though his thumb tweaked her nipple. The other hand moved up her side, touching where he left the hickeys. He could feel them underneath his calloused fingertips. The fabric of his dress shirt was so thin, he could feel her heat radiating through it.

Eliza pouted. His dress pants did little to conceal his erection. Amazing what just a little kissing could do to a man that proud himself on having self-control.

“God, you drive me crazy, you know that?”

She ground down on him, sucking his bottom lip between hers. The sound was obscene. “I know.”

He hummed. His fingers worked wonders to ease the knots in her back and upper thighs that were restricting her movements. She relaxed in his arms.

"I think you need a hot shower," he said. "Always helps with sore muscles."

“I'm not in the mood for a shower."

"Why not?“

“‘Cause that’s not what I’m in the mood for.” Her eyes darkened. She prayed for him to get the hint.

Matt kept massaging her thigh, but his hand started to move further up until he reached her ass cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze. At this point, he was fully hard in his pants, cock straining painfully against the thin fabric.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

The smack against her left cheek was gentle, yet enough to make her jolt forward. “Yeah,” he breathed into her mouth, engulfing her in a tight hug as he pressed their lips together in a sloppy battle of tongue and teeth.

“You’re enjoying yourself too,” he underlined his words with a swift squeeze of her ass, causing her to moan against his hot mouth.

“Hmm, seems like I am." She played with the collar of his shirt where his tie was supposed to sit. One of the buttons opened itself. "I guess I just really like your lap."

"You do look good in my lap," he said. "It's almost like you were made for me."

"What a shame then that you can't enjoy it. I have so many great ideas."

Matt moved her further up so she was resting right above his crotch. "Oh yeah," he breathed huskily. "What would that be, exactly?"

"Oh, it involves a lot of sex."

"Really? Tell me more.”

He breathed in sharply. Her arousal made him high. Her scent lay in the air, thick and choking him into unconsciousness.

"You'd fuck me," she said. "Right on this table, then the kitchen counter, against the wall, the couch-"

"Damn," he interrupted her. His cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. "Do we ever get to the bed in your theory, or is it just random surfaces in the apartment?"

"That depends. How much time do you have?"

"None," he had to admit, sadly.

Eliza hissed. "Bummer, and I was just getting started."

"I know. I can smell you, sweetheart." His nose nudged at her neck.

"You can actually smell me?"

"Oh, yes."

"So you could tell every time I-“ she was panicking.

“Well, not on purpose!”

“Oh, my God.”

He grabbed her before she could slip off of him. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I was trying not to, but the more I tried, the worse it got.” He stroked his hands over her burning cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel insecure. There is no reason for you to be. It’s sweet.”

“Me?” she asked, voice quivering.

“Yeah. You’re sweet, and you taste and smell the same. It’s not a bad thing. If anything, you should be proud of yourself. I just have to say something flirty or take my shirt off and-" he snapped, "Instantly, without touching you, your fucking scent fills my nose. It makes my dick so hard, sweetheart. You have no idea how painful that is."

“Jesus Christ, Matt!” Her head dropped into the crook of his neck, which made him laugh. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just so cute when you get flustered.”

“No,” she whined. “You could tell every time you turned me on and you just- you didn’t say anything.”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

“No!”

“Then why are we arguing?”

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me,” he said and bucked his hips so his hard cock bumped against the wet spot on her panties, “Does this feel like something you should be embarrassed about?”

She bit down on his shoulder. “God.”

“Hm? I don't think so.”

The friction of the two layers of fabric rubbed deliciously against her slick folds, the head of his cock pressing down on her clit ever so slightly, movements restricted by his pants and his boxers. They fell into a steady rhythm. He was as sensitive as ever, every move of her hips knocking the air out of his lungs and adding to the overwhelming pressure in his stomach. She started circling her hips and it hit his cock in all the right places, he threw back his head in absolute bliss, eyes shut and bottom lip bruised from the teeth grazing against it.

“You still embarrassed?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she shot back. Her hips faltered. He whimpered into her ear. “Oh-“ Her muscles twitched with the sudden wave of pleasure that shot straight to her core. The sound was heavenly. A sound so high coming out of a mouth that was usually so tough painted the most delicious picture, one she would never be able to get off her mind again.

His cock in the confines of his slacks was starting to hurt. He tried to angle her differently. The several layers of fabric sliding against the weeping head burned through his entire body, making his toes curl. It was the sweetest form of torture.

Eliza realized he was trying to gain more friction while at the same time, trying to free himself. "You need any help with that?” she asked.

"No, it's good," he said. He broke into a choked-up cry, her cunt leaving a wet trail on the grey of his suit. Her clit brushed against his cock and he could see the stars evading his vision clearly. Even with the world on fire, the darkness managed to explode.

She raked a hand through his hair. Sweaty strands stuck to his forehead. The single tear of pleasure tasted salty on her tongue, licking it up from where it trickled down his bearded chin. The hairs scratched at her tongue. His eyes fluttered shut. She was all over him, lips, hands, heartbeat to heartbeat - she was close enough for him to hear the wetness gush out of her hole, making the desperate back-and-forth of her hips even easier. Her arousal seeped through his pants, through his underwear, and onto his cock. It could have just been sweat mixed with her signature scent; he was too far gone to question the feeling.

His nails dug into her back. "What do you need?" she asked him, breathless and high.

He couldn't possibly form a coherent sentence.

"Do you need me to go faster?"

He nodded feverishly at the suggestion. She grinned against his jaw, picking up the speed of her hips, sliding her cunt harder and faster against his crotch and what she could feel of his sturdy thigh.

With another helpless whine, he demanded, "Kiss me."

She supposed he needed to suppress his moans, even though they were the only thing keeping her going. His voice alone was enough to make her wet, but the sounds erupting from his sound were the definition of pornographic.

In response, she sucked the golden cross in between her teeth and kissed him. He tasted the small piece of metal on his tongue. It was hot, laced with her signature scent and her spit. He kissed her through it, occasionally biting and licking with his tongue. The whole scene was so blasphemous, he should have felt guilty. He should have gone to confession then and there because this wasn’t right, far from it, but there wasn’t a bone in his body that cared.

He growled when she stopped grinding and instead, started palming him through his slacks. “I should punish you for that,” he said. She squeezed her hand around his cock and he moaned, throwing his head back to taste her arousal in the air.

She bit her lip. “Oh, if God could see you now. What would he say then? If he could see what a slut you are for me.”

His hips bucked into her touch.

“You see, you’re not the only one with a dirty mouth,” she said. Skillfully, she unbuckled his belt to free him, finally, and he hissed at the cold air touching the head of his cock. “God,” she growled, “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

His eyes rolled back. “Fuck.”

“Everything about you is absolutely divine. And you're good, so good, Matthew." He could only whimper in response. "It's okay, baby. You can let yourself go. I'll help you."

He grabbed her wrist, encouraging her movements. With every movement, he felt the endless bliss inch a little closer. He bucked his hips in time to meet her hand. The other slipped between her spread thighs, rubbing circles on her swollen clit, playing with the wetness that had collected in her underwear, a mixture between her and him.

Eliza huffed. She took the hand touching her pussy and forced it around her neck. “That’s not what this is,” she said. “Surrender control.”

He gritted his teeth. Of course, he would say no. He once again attempted to move his hands anywhere other than where she forced them to be. It was useless.

"You're not used to this position, are you? You're not used to being the submissive one?"

"I’m letting you do this, sweetheart,” he bit back. She pinched him.

“You could always do this yourself,” her breath was hot against his neck when she kissed his pulse point. His heart skyrocketed. The way her finger kept rubbing over his cock was too much.

“Don’t you dare,” he said.

“Wasn’t planning to.”

“If you would just let me get you off-“

“Aw, are you getting close? Do you not want to be the first to cum?"

“No.”

"That's a shame 'cause I'm not giving in."

"C'mon." He ignored her silent demand to keep his hands to himself, reaching into her panties this time, catching her clit. She stilled. If she allowed herself to enjoy his touch, she wouldn't win. She knew she would fall apart if he kept this up. He drew circles around the sensitive nub, eventually sliding down to collect the wetness at her entrance and rubbing it all over her cunt. Her pulse pounded hard and heavy underneath the sore skin. He could hear and feel it loud and clear.

While his thumb stayed, doing the job it was supposed to do, his middle finger dipped into her hole. She gasped. He wasn't playing fair. This was her moment and he was ruining it by taking control. The position made it a little harder to slide his fingers inside of her, but the man was flexible, especially with his hands. He had no trouble stuffing her with his fingers, his thumb still drawing symbols on her clit. Her thighs twitched. It was unfair how good he felt.

She sighed. "You really can't take when something is given to you, can you?"

"No," he smirked against her neck.

She desperately searched for support when he managed to slide a third finger in.

"Oh, God. Fucking Christ. Shit!"

"Language," he murmured. His lips were sure to leave a bruise on her collarbone.

"Oh, I hate you," she panted. The way his fingers expertly thrust into her had her hanging over the edge in seconds, held up only by a small string of self-control.

Matt kissed her neck. "Sure you do." He didn't seem bothered.

Until her fist tightened so incredibly hard around his cock, he almost came right then and there. "Stop fighting, Matthew," she said.

"You stop fighting." He curled one of his fingers to hit her G-spot.

Her eyebrows shut up. “You are such a brat, Matthew Murdock. This is honestly pathetic.”

She lost hold of his cock, surprised to see him stopping her completely. He kissed her, lips hot and wet, and he stuffed himself back into his dress pants, hard and leaking precum. She was this close to making him come apart. Instead, he chose to torture himself. She was trying to not take it personally.

Who would have figured that the Catholic guilt made Matt Murdock horny as fuck.

He pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her empty and aching, and in one big swoop, he wiped the dining table clean. All the food and cutlery fell to the floor. Liquid spilled everywhere, hopefully not on the carpet. He lifted her off his lap with a single arm, sitting her down on the table.

He ripped his shirt open, the one she wore. Buttons joined the chaos on the floor. “I have ten minutes,” he growled into her neck. “I will make you cum in five and if you try to stop me or pull my head away, I'll make you wish that you'd never pushed me this far.”

Eliza stared up at him. Well, shit.

Instead of pulling the underwear down her legs, he pulled at the waistband. Her cunt was aching, she probably couldn’t take another orgasm, not for another day, so why was it that she found herself in this position again?

She couldn’t help herself. She needed him like she needed air to breathe.

The fabric of her panties was pretty much torn to shreds by the time it landed on the floor. She gasped.

“I want to try something. Would you be okay with that?" He pushed her hair out of her face.

Eliza wanted to say no, but the offer seemed too exciting to decline. "Yeah," she breathed out.

"We need a safe word," he told her. "Green means go, yellow indicates that you’re nearing your limits, and red means-"

"Stop," she finished. "Yeah, got it."

He smirked. "Eager, are we?"

"Well, I'm certainly not gonna cum on my own."

"Okay. Listen, if this weren't so time sensitive, I would leave you here with only your fingers and then see how close you can get without my help." His head cocked at her sharp intake of breath. "So, I'd be careful if I were you. Unless you want to suffer for the rest of the day."

Her whine sufficed. "I'm sorry," she said. She sounded so small. She hated how he managed to make her go from confident to submissive in one go. He reached for the steering wheel and took over. It was frustrating but at the same time, it turned her on like nothing ever had before.

Matt kissed her. "Good girl," he said. He pushed her back with a flat hand on her stomach. "Now be even better and spread your legs for me, sweetheart."

She threw her head back against the wood of the table. His head buried deep in her cunt and while it hurt, she couldn’t help but moan. It felt good, his tongue flat against her folds as he spread them expertly once again to unsheath her clit. Still swollen from the night before, she was sure she was going to finish in less than five minutes.

“Oh, God!” She chanted his name like a prayer. In response to that, a single hand reached for the cross necklace and forced it between her teeth. She moaned. She wanted to gag at the taste, but she couldn’t. She could barely breathe.

The crown of her head was the only thing connecting her to the table. The wood hit the wall behind them repeatedly, with every thrust of his tongue and the desperate attempt to bring her hips closer to his mouth. It made the floor shake, it seemed. Her hands tangled in his hair. He could hear the blood rushing in her thighs next to his ears. It was excruciating, it was painful. He needed more or he would surely die.

What was he doing to her? This couldn’t possibly be real. No one could be as good at eating pussy as he was. She was dreaming, had to be.

His hands found her bare tits. His fingers were rough, his touch gentle. He squeezed the tender flesh. Her nipples perked up at the sudden attention. He tucked at them, expertly playing with them, and it added heavily to the painful pressure building in her lower stomach. She wanted to savor it longer, but she was stumbling on the edge, her muscles too sore to focus on anything other than the high she was chasing.

Her hands found his, keeping him wrapped around her breasts. She encouraged him to squeeze harder. The flesh was incredibly soft underneath his touch.

Matt sucked at her clit again. The suction was wet and obscene and it hurt so good, she choked out a warning. “Fuck, don’t stop,” she said. It was more of a breath than spoken words, but he heard her loud and clear. “Don’t stop!”

Four minutes and thirty-two seconds. He counted the movements of the minute hand inside the clock on his kitchen wall.

She cried loudly when he stopped. Her hips bucked, but the thought alone didn’t work. The pressure subsided. She was left aching, clit pulsating, and the air cold on her pussy. She wanted to pass away. The tears she fought were ones of frustration and pure pleasure. She hated him. It wasn’t fair.

Matt pursed his lips and blew cold air against her clit. She whined. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Her leg twitched from where it was still seated over his shoulder.

“I need you to hold it,” he said. The tone of his voice sounded firm as if something might happen if she disobeyed.

Eliza bit her lip. The blood was pooling in her mouth and around the cross necklace. “I can’t,” she choked out.

Squeezing the outside of her thighs added to the pain of the already-formed bruise. “Stop saying you can’t,” he said.

“I really can’t. I need to-“

His large hand reached over her hip and between her legs. The slap wasn’t loud. He flicked her clit only enough to shock her. She clenched her legs around his neck. Her attempt to pull him in failed, instead he brought his palm back down on her sex.

“Stop,” the demand was clear. “Don’t cum unless I tell you to."

And he dove right back in. His mouth attacked her clit with new vigor. He sucked and nibbled at the skin, tongue pumping into her. It was torture, him between her thighs, the sight of his hooded eyes searching for hers, knowing what he was doing. He moaned, that bastard, and his voice vibrated, adding to the pressure that was steadily growing again. She clenched her muscles, it was the only way to stop the inevitable from happening. Her fingers pulled at his hair so tightly, she could have sworn the next moan he let out was one of pain, not pleasure, but with Matt, the two often blurred the line.

As predicted, she tried to push his head away. It was too much, too painful and she knew if she didn’t, she was going to finish and it was going to hurt even more. The knot was so tight, the glass was about to break. She couldn’t make any noise, she was paralyzed.

He pulled her further into him, the response sounding more like a warning, “What did I say?” he growled. “What did I tell you about pulling my head away?”

She was crying. “I’m sorry, I just- Please, Matthew!”

“No,” he stated plainly.

“Please!”

“You wanna be my good girl?” She nodded feverishly. “Then hold it.”

His head disappeared between her thighs again. He kissed her folds. This one was gentler. He took his time. The rough surface of his tongue felt like sandpaper.

“Fuck!” and she wasn’t sure if she said, Matty or Daddy. Her mind short-circuited. She was a woman out of control and he was holding the remote.

“A bit more,” he whispered to her clit, “You can do it.”

She could have said red and then the torture would have been over. He would have stopped and they could have gone about their day, but truth be told, she didn’t want to. She wanted him to stop yet keep going at the same time and it was fucked up because as much as she tried to ignore it, his dominance was turning her on, and she was more than ready to comply. She was more than ready to suffer through it.

"You taste so good, fuck! I love it when you do as you're told."

“Oh, fuck you, Matthew!”

Her eyes flew open. He stopped.

“What did you just say?” he asked. His chin was glistening with her arousal, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded. “Repeat that back to me, sweetheart. What did you just say?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Matt. I was-"

"I said, repeat it back to me."

"I said fuck you, Matthew. But I didn't mean it, I swear."

Her sobs were pathetic.

"Something tells me you did," he hummed. "Do you want to get off or not?"

"Yes!" she cried out. "Fuck, yes. Please! I need to cum, ah!” His teeth dug into the inside of her thigh. She threw her head back. "I really want to cum. Please, Matthew. I'll be good! I'll be good, I promise."

He cooed, "How could I say no to that?"

She nodded feverishly. She hoped he would continue, allowing her some of the sweet relief she was chasing.

“Hey," he forced her to look at him with a harsh tug at her thighs, "If you keep talking to me like that, I won’t let you cum at all.” The statement left no space for discussion. "We clear?"

"Yes," she choked out. "I'm sorry." The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him.

He caught onto the tears and how some of them started to feel like more than just frustration seeping out of her pores. His gaze softened. "You okay?" he asked. His controlling facade dropped and the normal Matt started to peek his head around the corner.

Eliza lifted herself up to her elbows. Her head was dizzy. The ruined orgasm kept on building, even without him touching her, but the lack of pressure on her clit was frustrating and she wanted more. She needed more. She needed all he had to give and his sudden patience made her almost angry.

"What?"

"You okay?" he smiled up at her.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Fine. What- why are you-" She couldn't even speak properly anymore.

"What's your color?"

This wasn't part of the play.

She blinked again. It took a moment for her brain to piece the puzzle together. "Green," she told him.

Relief washed over him. "Thank you."

“Now, can you get back to what you’re doing or-“

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna wish you didn’t just say that.” And then the dominant Matt returned and she drove back to her bed in heaven. She wanted to stay there for all eternity, and he wouldn't mind building a home between her thighs either. It was his favorite place in the world already, and he had only gotten two tastes so far.

His tongue flattened against her folds. He thrust the tip in, nudging his nose against her clit. The pressure was sweet torture. And he decided to take his time. He explored her insides with his tongue while his hands kept feeling her up. He caught her nipples with his fingers, pinching them. It elicited a cry of pain from her, but it quickly turned to pleasure when he soothed over the ache by squeezing her tits.

“Matt,” she as much as begged. “Can I..."

He shook his head. The movement felt absolutely genius on her sensitive skin. The inside of her thighs was red and her pussy was swollen from all the attention. She would surely find serious beard burn later. He was trying to avoid rubbing against her too much, but with her thighs clenching around his head and squishing his cheeks between them, he didn't have much of a choice but to let it happen. The fire was bittersweet.

He moaned. He did that on purpose. “One more second.”

Every muscle in her body was tense. “I can’t take another second! Fuck!”

“Ah-ah,” his nails dug into her hips, “Do as I say.”

“Please, Matt!”

He decided to have at least some mercy on her. “Fuck my face and I might just let you.”

She bucked her hips into his mouth. He greeted her gladly with all he had to give. It was messy, she was chasing the high her body had been denied so many times before, and pathetically, it took her some time before her legs locked around his head. He was holding her so tight, she wasn’t sure why. Until he groaned, a broken scream, and finally, after what felt like an eternity. “Cum.”

She bit into her forearm when she came. It was way too early for the neighbors to hear obscure moaning from next door. She was pretty convinced, also, that none of this was particularly helpful to her concussion. Her head came down so hard on the wooden table, the sound was deafening even to her ears. The rest of her body shut down, paralyzed in their spot, and Matt was trapped between her thighs. The second the orgasm crashed over her, the pain multiplied. Like a hot sword, it cut through her. But what started as painful slowly turned into pleasure – extreme pleasure. It was the kind of pleasure that makes you see the gates of heaven as your soul slowly descends from your being.

Her fist hit the table. Her teeth drew blood on her arm. The orgasm went on forever, it seemed. Her body wouldn’t stop convulsing underneath him and greedy as he was, he made sure to completely suck her dry. He dragged it on for far too long, but she enjoyed it. She enjoyed the way he took care of her.

The pain long forgotten, all she could feel was his mouth and the small groans he allowed himself to release as he cleaned her up. He sucked up every last drop she had to give

“Good girl,” he said. “Such a good girl.”

He peaked up at her, eyes blown wide with lust and his mouth glistening with her release. He was searching for her face and almost succeeded, but only almost. He failed her by millimeters.

Maybe sex with Matt Murdock was exactly the remedy she needed.

The gentle stroking of his hands along her sides brought her back to life. She breathed shakily, watching him rise to his feet and lean over her, brushing the hairs out of her face, sticky with sweat.

He accidentally brushed against her nipples. She slapped his hand away. He took the hint, making sure to avoid her erogenous zones altogether as he kept kissing her skin to calm her down.

She looked down to see the obvious wet patch in his pants. Oh.

OH.

“You see what you do to me?” he muttered.

She thought him calling her sweetheart was a compliment enough, but damn it! Seeing the effect she had on him was the best fucking compliment anyone could have given her, ever.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“No, thank you.” He stroked her cheek. She watched as he dipped a finger between her legs to collect the wetness still leaking out of her, and he licked his luscious lips. "That was so good."

"Hm. I think you completely ruined my thighs."

His hand soothed over the reddened skin.

"Did you ever consider shaving?" she smirked at him. "Like you shave your chest, I mean."

"Foggy said that makes me look like a baby in a suit," he said.

"Boss baby."

"That's exactly what he called me!" He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Seriously now though, do you need me to shave? Does it hurt?"

She giggled. "No, I like your beard."

"Okay, good."

"And I think I would like it even more if you grew out your chest hair." The post-orgasm haze made her particularly talkative this time around.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"But I can understand why you don't. It's probably uncomfortable with your hypersensitivity, right? I know I get annoyed by my body hair sometimes, so I prefer to shave, but not everyone does and that's okay. Shaved or not, doesn't matter. As long as you're comfortable."

"I actually just thought less hair would be more aesthetically pleasing."

"You're easy on the eyes, either way, Matt," she said. Her hand ran through his hair, down his face, through his stubble until she found his covered chest. She opened three more buttons, just enough to reveal the first half of his chest. The skin was smooth, moisturized, and shaven. He had freckles. They weren't just limited to his perfect nose. He had them everywhere, the top of his chest, his back. The little things she paid attention to were the most beautiful.

He smirked. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Perhaps I will miss a day or two now that I know you like my body hair so much."

"I don't think I'd be able to survive." She sighed dramatically. "It'd be the death of me."

"That bad, huh?"

"The perfect wet dream. Don't make me think about it, you're making me horny again."

Matt pulled his dress pants up by the belt, laughing at the cute nonsense she was spilling. He pushed her foot away when she tried to pull him back into her. She whined.

“I have to go,” he said.

“Can’t you stay for five more minutes?”

“Sweetheart, if we start this, it’s gonna take longer than five minutes, and I’ve already dragged this on for longer than I should have.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fisk’s lawyer is gonna kill me.”

“Just tell them your driver was late or something. Please,” she reached for his small waist, “I need you.”

She had never begged for anything before in her life, especially not for this.

He kissed her, sighing into her mouth. She kissed back harder, pushing her tongue against his. He didn’t have much of a choice. Not without a cold shower first. She made out with him painfully slow, hands caressing his sides, trying to get under his dress shirt. She made work of the buttons, trying not to ruin them, but she was this close to tearing the fabric apart.

“I haven’t felt this free in years,” she breathed against him. “I haven’t felt like anybody found me beautiful for so long, I started to believe that I’m just not worth it.” She moved his hands back to her breasts. He kept them there, squeezing slightly. “And you’re right,” she stopped to moan, “I let the men in my life use me because I believe I don’t deserve better. I just… I’m desperate here, Matt. I’m desperate because I have nothing left to lose, and if I’m not close to you, I’m sure I will break apart. You make me forget about all of this. Please, Matthew.”

This was the first time in all of her existence that she was begging to be loved, just once, just one more time. She had never needed assurance more than at that moment. He was the only person she believed when he told her she was beautiful. He was the only person she could fall into and not care about how she looked or sounded. Matt judged people on a deeper level. He judged them by all the non-superficial things. He wasn’t objective. He could see a person’s soul, almost like she did, and so his judgment was often right. With him, she could breathe. That had never happened before.

He cocked his head. If he took a cab instead of the bus, he still had some time to spare. And he couldn’t say no, not when she sounded so sweet. She was asking him to take care of her. It was new. Eliza hated to admit when she needed someone, which only proved how serious this had to be.

Matt grabbed her chin rather firmly. “Hey,” he said. “You’re so beautiful, don't think any less of you.”

“Show me,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “Show me how beautiful I am.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t leave me alone with my thoughts.”

It broke him, and not in a sexual sense. He wasn’t quite sure if acting on her wishes was a bad idea; she agreed to it, but she seemed oddly emotional, even for her, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“I can’t take you with me,” he said.

“But you can put your dick in me.”

His breath stuttered. “Sorry?”

“You heard me.” The grin on her face was cocky. “Unless you don’t want to.”

But he had already opened his belt buckle again. “I hate you so much,” the words turned to grunts.

He felt the pattern of the leather, then attempted to look at her. He couldn’t ask her that. They slept together once. Sure, she was kinky, extremely so, and he was so glad to finally have found someone who was more than ready to entertain what he liked, but this was something not made for the second time.

Still, he licked his lips and he wondered what it might be like to tie her hands behind her back while burying his cock to the hilt inside of her from behind, ass bouncing as he kept thrusting to fill her up with his cum, breeding her, marking her.

And he was instantly hard again.

She pulled him closer, but he stopped her before she could kiss him again. He hoisted her up in his arms, legs wrapped around him as he made his way into the kitchen, a higher surface than the table only a few steps away. The marble of the kitchen counter was cold against her bare backside once he set her down, and he easily slipped between her thighs, repositioning her so she was as close to the edge as possible without falling.

Eliza tried to open the button and the zipper at the same time. "Oh, fuck me," she grumbled. His slacks, more expensive than anything else he had in his possession, had a mind of their own. They didn't seem to want this as much as she did and it was frustrating. if someone had told her before that she would get angry at a piece of clothing simply because she was desperate for some dick she probably would have laughed.

"Hey, don't ruin my pants," he said. The amusement was clear in his eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do," she bit back. Finally, the button budged and she managed to slide the zipper down. She shoved the last barrier between them below his ass, just enough to help his cock out of it. She didn't need much more.

His erection poked her stomach. She sighed, almost proud of herself for getting him this far. “Is this okay?” he asked between kisses.

She nodded. “Yes.”

He hooked her leg around his waist. “Tell me, what do you need?”

“I need you, Matt.”

“And what do you need me to do?”

“Fuck me,” she said with an almost frustrated groan. “Just fuck me, please.”

Her desperation made him smile. “Breathe,” it was the only warning he gave before he thrust into her with one smooth move of his hips.

She moaned loudly. He split her open, but unlike the night before, he didn’t care much about taking his time to enter her. Once he bottomed out though, he groaned into her neck and he stayed there. Arms on the counter, hands placed above each other behind her to cage her in, to hold her there, making more than sure she wouldn’t hurt herself. He gave her time to adjust. It was still a surprising stretch, though she was way more relaxed than the first time, which made it easier for him to bury himself to the hilt inside of her. She was so warm, her pussy hugging him so tight, he was convinced that if she moved, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. And Matt wasn’t prone to finishing too early.

Eliza dug her nails into his shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked her, and she bucked her hips forward, hoping it was answer enough. The dark locks he kept groomed but never fully shaved grazed against her clit. An arm reached around her waist.

“Matt,” she begged.

“You need a minute," he said.

"No, I'm fine."

"Trust me. Let me stay here a little longer. Just a minute."

She clenched down on him.

“God, I love it when you do that.”

“What?” she teased, chasing after the bare skin of his torso, pressing her lips everywhere she could find. “This?” She clenched around him again.

He grunted. “Yeah, that.” He reached for her face from where her lips were sucking at his erect nipples.

She tilted her chin up to take his invitation to kiss her. He bunched her hair in his hands; it was wild and free and it was getting in the way of touching her completely. Nails scratched across his torso. Her hips bucked again, this time out of instinct.

“You need me to move?” he asked.

His breath shuddered. “Please.”

“How would you like me to move?”

“Oh, are you kidding me,” the last part of the sentence got swallowed by his mouth.

Matt brought his hips back, pulling out slightly, then thrust forward. He split her open agonizingly slow and she wasn’t having any of it. He chuckled against her throat, her neck thrown back in ecstasy because while his pace was annoying, it felt too good not to enjoy it while it lasted.

He didn’t expect her nails to dig into his ass, pulling him close and deeper into her pussy, and then she pulled at his cheeks until he had almost completely pulled out. He followed her movements with his senses intently, curious about her approach.

He cocked his head to the side. “What are you doing?” he wondered out loud.

“I need you to do something, Matt. Anything, just... don't just stand there,” she said, and she hid her face in his chest to hide the blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. “We’re either playing twenty questions or you’re fucking me. We can’t do both.”

“Alright, all you had to do was ask.” He captured her lips with his. “Smartass.”

“Yeah,” she kissed him back, “But you love it.”

He chuckled. "Are you sure?" It quickly turned into a giggle, which made her bite back a moan. He was cute and it wasn’t supposed to turn her on but it did. “Here,” he hummed, reaching for the thigh on his right to rest straight against her chest, but he didn’t throw her entire leg over his shoulder, he just angled the limb impossibly high, still supported by his broad chest and hands as he pushed into her.

“Oh, fuck!” She threw her head back.

“Yeah, where did that smart mouth of yours go now, huh?”

She groaned, pulling at his hair. Their lips met. It was hot, tongue and teeth clashing, and she took his breath away.

He started with slow, deep strokes. The squishy walls of her pussy had a vice grip on him. He didn’t have much of a choice but to comply with what her body told him. She wanted faster and deeper, but not harder. Not this time. She wanted him as close as humanly possible, kissing his lips, and playing with his tongue. She tasted her juices on him still, the faint scent of the cum on his pants sending her into a space where she felt like an addict all over again.

“You feel so good.”

The blood rushed to her cheeks. Eliza moaned, feeling her muscles tighten around him. He sighed, this was perfection.

She arched her back and his hand found its way back to her throat. He didn’t choke her this time, he just made sure she didn’t injure herself. On the kitchen counter, that was a possibility he didn’t want to explore.

Her fingers pulled at his already messed-up hair as he bit down on her shoulder, kissing along her collarbone and sucking a purple mark into her soft skin. She still tasted like him. He moaned, the palm of his hand moving between them to rest over her lower stomach.

“You feel that?” he asked. He pushed down and she cried out, feeling his cock underneath her skin.

Her foot dug into his ass. His hips snapped against hers. Skin slapped against skin, low moans, and heavy breaths caused the windows to fog with condensation. His dress shirt was soaked with sweat, and hair fell into his face, and she pushed them back behind his ears.

Matt grabbed a fistful of her hair to yank her back. “You think you can take another one?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she choked out.

“C’mon. I’ve got you.” He took one of the hands from around his neck and slid it between them. "I want you to touch yourself."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"Use your hand. Touch yourself for me. You can do it."

"I don't know how..."

"Yes, you do." He helped to circle her fingers against her clit. His hand around her wrist eased after she found a rhythm that she enjoyed, and he pulled away to touch the rest of her. "There you go," he praised into her ear. “I can feel that you're getting close.”

Her head was spinning. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, she could only smell his skin, taste the sweat in the air and feel every last inch of his cock stretching her out in the most delicious of ways. Her fingers kept drawing circles on herself. It was almost enough to make her combust.

She whined, “I need more.”

He was biting at her earlobe then. “What do you need?” he cooed.

“More,” she said. Not getting the hint, he listened to the way her heart raced, analyzing the twitching of her muscles. She reached for the arm he kept around her, forcing his hand to her neck.

He hesitated, fingers only brushing the skin slightly. “You’re already bruised.”

“I don’t care,” her tone was firm.

Matt was fighting an internal battle. Of course, he wanted to, but he was scared. He didn’t want to hurt her. She wasn’t fragile. She was stronger than him, could heal faster than him, yet he couldn’t help but see her as fragile glass that could break at any moment, and he was scared of the day it might actually happen. He didn’t want it to be at his hand, though there was nothing he craved more than to feel her pulse jump beneath his fingers.

He let the Devil take over. His grip knocked the air out of her lungs in the most literal sense of the phrase. He squeezed tightly, cutting off her air supply for several seconds before releasing her neck. It was just what she needed. Her eyes rolled back into the back of her head and she was so close, she was whining and crying, but it felt too good, too real, and the lack of oxygen made her feel like she was on top of the world. It was like the perfect opioid high. She couldn’t feel a thing but him and the way her body struggled to keep up with the inhuman amount of pleasure that was unleashed on her. She didn’t need air when she had him. He could breathe for the both of them.

Her head rolled back, fingers stopping their movements on her clit. She enjoyed the feeling of his fingers around her throat. It was all she could focus on. She jolted when he pushed two fingers past her lips, allowing her to suck on them. They were gone way too fast, replacing her own on the sensitive skin between her legs, just above where his cock kept disappearing inside of her.

She was useless. Not a single thought to be uttered in her mind, no words, only obscene sounds that came strangled. She called him names and it was pathetic; it was so pathetic, she wanted to die, but at the same time, she had never wanted to live more. He owned her. He could have asked her all kinds of things and she would have done them, not even questioning his intentions. He had that kind of control over her mind and especially over her body. She was addicted now, there was no way of recovering from that.

“Look at me,” she heard him say. A soft command. She opened her eyes, exhausted, but she managed. “Good girl. Look me in the eyes, come on.” She blinked to meet the brown of his eyes. Heaven was only a footstep away.

“Can you cum for me?” he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Hm? Can you be good one last time?”

She nodded.

“Always so eager to please.” He chuckled, but he couldn’t hide the fact that this was affecting him as well. “Go on then. Make daddy proud.”

Her thighs locked around his hips. He just so caught her before she could split her head open on the counter. Her walls contracted around his cock. He held the back of her head, leaning over her, and the sweet sound of her moans into his ear was enough to send him over the finish line.

He came with a quiet shout of her name. The hot white of his cum coated her walls and she held him even tighter as he released everything he had to give inside of her, milking him for all he was worth.

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Taking me so well. Fuck. Letting me fill you up. So good.”

“Fuck!” she felt him dripping out of her.

He rode out his high with slow, hard thrusts until he had given all he was capable of, and her walls were completely filled with his spend.

There was a moment of silence between them, only their uneven breathing filling the air. Their heartbeats aligned until they managed to calm down, still pressed close to each other, hugging over the kitchen counter.

He lifted himself on his forearm, smiling lazily down at her. “Hi,” he said.

She stroked his sweat-soaked brow. “Hi,” she replied.

He pulled out of her with a small whine. Slowly, as if trying not to hurt her, he used the hand behind her head to help her sit up straight. Her legs were shaking. She tried hard not to show him, but as soon as he unhooked himself from her, he caught the way her thighs vibrated on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t even press them together. It made him incredibly proud of himself.

Matt dipped his finger into the line of cum trickling down the inside of her thigh. She watched curiously as he moved back up. His eyes were dark, darker than usual, and his pupils were blown wide at what he was about to do.

Eliza choked on nothing when she felt him remove the necklace around her throat. The golden cross pressed into her thigh, covered in his released and partly her own. He traced it up her skin, leaving a sticky trail of cum behind. It pooled around the metal.

“God, forgive me,” he said.

He used two fingers to stuff the cross covered in his cum back inside of her, penetrating her already sensitive walls with his thick digits and the foreign object. She would never get it back, at least not for her to wear.

She choked out a broken moan. Her thighs shut. His bicep got trapped between them, fingers still buried inside. She tried to keep him there. She was so full, so warm, she needed him to stay. Her head fell back in absolute bliss.

Matt kept on slowly fucking his cum into her with the necklace and two thick fingers penetrating her, guiding the crucifix where it needed to be.

He pulled out to drag the tip over her clit. She sobbed. “Matt, this is not a good idea- Ah!” Her walls clenched around his finger.

“Are you-“ he raised his eyebrows. “You’re so sensitive, fuck!” He began to thrust his fingers faster, the cross cold against her clit. He moved it in circles, in awe at how fast he had her on the edge again. Her pulse was racing. She was the only thing left on his mind. “I bet you’re gonna cum again for me, aren’t you?” he said almost mockingly.

She nodded. “Fuck!” Her hips met the movements of his fingers. He wasn’t even completely inside of her, but the sight of the crucifix on her pussy and his fingers disappearing between the red walls of flesh, squelching with the wetness she released, was enough to build the inevitable orgasm.

He should have known this was going to happen.

“I think you’ll need to repent for that,” he whispered into her ear. “I think you might need to pray a whole lot of Hail Marys for what you’re doing right now. I think you should confess.” He pushed the necklace harder on her clit, starting to move in circles. “Do you know how to do that, hm?”

She gasped against his plump lips. “Yes.”

“Then do it!”

“Oh,” – he curled his fingers – “Fuck me, Father, for I have-“

“No,” he stopped his movements. “That’s not how it goes. I hope to God himself you’re not asking him to fuck you for your sins.”

“Jesus-“

“No, not him either. You know,” he began to pull out, “If you’re gonna be blasphemous, at least moan my name.“

Panic spread in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Matthew,” she said. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Then confess.” He started moving his fingers again.

“Fuck! Forgive me Father for I have sinned…”

Matt smirked. “That’s it, that’s my girl. What do you have to ask forgiveness for, baby?”

“For using the lord’s name in vain?”

“Yes. What else?”

“For… for not taking him seriously. Oh, fuck!” He brushed over her g-spot, “Right there.”

“That’s not what I’m waiting to hear,” he said, thumb joining the crucifix. “C’mon, say it. I know you want to.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” – this was turning her on so fucking much, she wanted to combust, but she knew better than to cum without his permission – “For tainting the lord’s name and putting shame on all of Christianity by fucking this… fuck! Stupid crucifix.”

“And do you like it?” He curled his fingers again to hit her sweet spot. She grabbed onto his shoulder. “Do you like having it on your clit, along with my fingers inside of you, curling up,“ he demonstrated, “just like that?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say you love it.”

“I-“ her eyes rolled back. “Fuck, yes!”

He clicked his tongue. “Ah, not what I was asking.”

She had her hand wrapped around his wrist, but he wouldn’t let her thrust against him. His body towered over her, locking her in place.

“Say it, sweetheart, or I’m compelled to stop. Do you love being fucked like this? Do you love to use God for your pleasure like the dirty little whore you are?”

“God, yes, I love it! I love it so much.”

“Dirty girl.” He leaned in to kiss her.

She desperately sought some friction, lifting her hips. “What’s my sentence, father?”

Oh, that makes so much more sense now. Matt growled. He removed the cross from her clit and shoved it back inside of her, listening intently to the sound it made twisting against the walls of her pussy. His thumb returned to rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum,” was all he said.

She gushed all around his fingers and the crucifix, leaking onto the kitchen counter. He buried his head in her neck as she leaned against him, releasing the filthiest sounds directly in his ear.

Eliza whimpered when he didn’t stop pounding into her. He cut her off. “Shh. Just making sure you won’t forget me while I’m gone.”

Matt made use of her slack jaw, shoving the necklace back between her lips. The taste was almost too much to bear. When he took it back out, it was dripping with her saliva, still slightly white from the cum she hadn’t been able to lick from the edges.

He scoffed mockingly. “Would you look at that?”

“Oh,” she moaned, “We’re going to hell.”

“We all are.” He lowered his head to slip the necklace over. It left a wet patch from where it was now dangling around his throat, the pendant pressed to his chest with the slick. “Blasphemy has never smelled so fucking good.”

“Are you gonna tell your priest about this?”

“No,” he chuckled. “This is only for me to remember and I will now, every time I pray.”

Matt could smell her, he could taste her. Sweet, sweet torture he brought upon himself. By the time he finished getting dressed, Eliza had cleaned most of the mess they made. He followed her movements, sticky thighs, sweaty skin - she was perfect. The dress shirt was still dangling off her shoulders, torn apart, and the rest of her was completely bare to him.

She caught him staring from the door frame. “What?” self-consciousness laced her voice.

“Nothing,” he waved her off. Hands slipped underneath the dress shirt, grabbing her butt. “I was just thinking, maybe you should put on some clothes before Foggy comes over. Not that I can blame him for eye-fucking you, but it's not for him.”

“Not fond of sharing, are we?” she teased.

He chuckled. “Not really, no.” His hands released her butt, allowing her to find even footing again. “Especially not with Foggy.”

“Oh, anyone you would be comfortable with?"

"Well, there is this guy who wears Devil horns at night. He likes to enforce justice with his fists, puts bad guys behind bars. I heard he has a great butt, too.”

"Really?" she played along. "I don’t think I know a guy like that.”

“Oh, you don’t?”

“No.”

“He likes to wear red or something, I don’t know, I can’t see, but he’s been rumored to have put Wilson Fisk behind bars. He destroyed the Yakuza, did all of these super cool hero things… c’mon, you know him.”

“Hmm. Do you mean Daredevil?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"And you would share me with him?"

"Only him," he said.

"Hm,” – he caught her devilish grin with a frown – “so why is Foggy coming over again?”

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you. I put him on Eliza duty.”

She reached around him, over the waistband of his fresh slacks, and then smack!

“Hey!” Matt glared.

Eliza only sighed in relief. “I always wanted to do that.”

“You know, I thought you were gonna fix my tie.” He bit back the smirk threatening to form. “Since you pride yourself on being so good all the time.”

She only squeezed his ass again. There were no words in the existence of the English language to explain what it felt like. It was even better than looking at it. He had the perfect ass.

He broke out into laughter. “You done?” he asked.

“No.”

“You can feel my ass whenever you want, sweetheart. In fact, I encourage you to do so, but I really need to get going now.”

With one last smack, she released him. Her eyes narrowed down on his hip. “I’m coming back for you,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You’re a lost cause.”

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck to fix his tie, like he originally wanted her to. “So, what’s Eliza duty?” she questioned.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble. So I called him,” he said, placing his signature red glasses on his nose, “Uh, he’s gonna walk you through all the files we have on Fisk and you can help him get on the same page we are, so things will be easier from here on. Once he knows everything, I mean.”

“Does he know what you’re planning to do now?”

“Not exactly.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was gonna pursue a lead, I just didn’t tell him where.”

“Oh, Matt.”

“Hey,” he said, “I’m gonna be fine.”

She breathed in his scent. He must have showered. “Please, be careful,” she said.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “See you later, bug.”

Bug.

“What did you just call me?”

But the door shut without an answer, and she was left pondering the one question that should have been answered before they did what they inevitably ended up doing; what did all of this even mean?

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #foreigner's god #matt murdock x original character #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #matt murdock x female!oc #foggy nelson #karen page #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock imagines #marvel #angst #charlie cox #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic

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lady-laureline · 3 months

Text

Today we're talking about a massive thorn in my side, namely the "water under the bridge" mentality in response to interpersonal conflict. While there is a time and place for it, it leaves a lot to be desired as a default response.

Healthy relationships (romantic or otherwise) go through cycles of rupture and repair. Hurt and healing. Transgression and reconciliation.

This knowledge is usually passed down from parent/guardian to child, through direct instruction as well as example. Buut, if the 'mentor' was never taught this skill, they cannot teach it, and the 'student' will grow up with little concept of healthy confrontation, and instead learn that keeping pleasantries afloat - and yourself under control - is what matters.

Within this context, bringing attention to pain signals a lapse in judgement in those that know better, and a lack of discipline or consideration in those who don't. It's also a sign of precarity: without the ability to break the problem down, it's harder to develop a sense of proportion. Ergo, a threat is a threat, no matter if it's a small misunderstanding, a tangible disagreement, or a full-blown crisis.

As someone who did grow up with the skill to repair, my understanding of a mature response to conflict is to parse it out: picking a moment to bring it up, having an open conversation, figuring out the relevant differences in perspective and the actual (versus assumed) root of it all. Only then can the parties involved make up and move on.

I took this attitude for granted before cohabiting with someone without the repair skill and finding out the hard way that trying to fix things was not what was expected of me. The lack of closure was what kept me from feeling like things were okay between us - but for them, not leaving the problem alone was the only thing keeping it alive.

At first, I tried to earn the right to talk about it, thinking I just needed to phrase it right. When that didn't work, I tried convincing myself I didn't need repair after all (pretty funny in retrospect). In the end, I had to conclude that each person is responsible for their own willingness to put effort into understanding the needs of another, and that denying your own, no matter how justified the context, just leaves you with more trauma.

That said, I have no intention of treating these attitudes as two sides of the same coin.

"Water under the bridge" doesn't carry your problems away to harmlessly dissolve into the ocean. Those emotions will stick around until you acknowledge their existence and their purpose, meanwhile they’ll eat away at you from the inside, whether you've dulled yourself to the pain or not.

With so much unattended hurt floating about, pretending everything's fine is ultimately nothing more than damage control. It might distract from the immediate upset, but - despite individual sacrifices made for the common good - it doesn't functionally bring us closer together. The brain is wired to fill in whatever information we're missing, and has a chunky negative bias, so without facts telling us otherwise we're likely to assume the worst about a situation and those involved in it. The less you are inclined to prove those suspicions wrong, the more pessimistic your reality becomes. This is how you end up alone in a room full of people.

But we keep shooting ourselves in the foot because the only thing scarier than loneliness is vulnerability. Even if you're willing to admit change, you'll have your psyche screaming at you to quit digging your own grave the second you let your guard down (it's trying to protect you and doesn't know any better).

Sometimes you have to take yourself by the hand and tell yourself it's ok. That you deserve better. Because we all bloody deserve better than just living with the crap that doesn't resolve on its own.

#ramblepost #rupture and repair #and all this is without getting to nonverbal signals and unspoken agreements #what is your signal to go talk to someone #do you do it when you need help or when someone else does #do you need permission to talk #or permission to listen

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venusguks · 3 years

Text

— saccharine boy

pairing : reader x jeon jungkook

summary : the new transfer student is a bit strange…

genre : yandere jk, future smut, angst, dark, obsessive/possessive jk

warnings : this includes DARK themes with heavy topics. i dont support this unhealthy relationship dynamic irl. a huge TW for suicide, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, coaxing, themes. this is pure fiction so please know that if you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, this may be really really horrible to read :(( yn and jk both say shitty things

part 1 of ??

☽

i loved you before i even knew you

in days fleeting moments, the sun dipped into the ocean, casting a surge of honey waves to engulf the city whole.

it’s vast, golden essence poured through the mid-open windows and into the empty school hallways.

moments before, the laughter of the baseball team dissipated, and those who confessed to the whim of spring filtered emotions had left with tear stained cheeks.

it's empty enough that you can hear your own slip ons click against the floor.

click, click, click.

you walk up the stairs, stopping right in front of the rooftop door.

the rusted knob is cool under your skin, and bracing yourself for the wind, you twist it open.

the wind whisks past you ferociously, as if urging you to turn back. you should've heeded the warning then (how foolish of you not to), but instead, you open your eyes to the tangerine streaks of the sky.

that’s when you see him.

— ❝ hey, do you regret it? ❞

his silhouette wavered beyond the metal railings of the rooftop.

you don’t know why—what had possibly gone through your mind when you spoke. it wasn't your business—you could honestly care less for people like him,

because people like him were the same as you.

despite that, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming, "you're such an attention freak, you know that?! do you really want to be seen that much?"

his head slightly lifted.

would he listen to you? would he care?

because if it were you past that railing right now, you wouldn't stop for anyone.

but doesn’t he see?

if he jumps, right now, right in front of you,

doesn’t he know how much that would break you?

please, the wind swallows your desperation. i’m already broken enough, so please don't make it any worse.

when i muster up the courage like you someday, i need to die without the thought of you jumping in my head.

— ❝ oh, i see… you're scared of me.❞

"there are so many other ways to kill yourself. drowning, the rope—you can jump off literally any other god damned building for all i care—but don't you dare make it this building! don't you dare jump off in front of me."

you saw it, as the wind danced past him, just how lifeless his eyes were

it was as if the sun himself feared him—preferring to quickly drown into the blue abyss rather than be in his mere presence.

"i know this place is terrible—but the janitor is so kind. he's a single father of three children and if you jump, he'd have to break his back scrubbing your blood for hours. he'd come home and put on a happy face despite worrying if his children will turn out like you. so please, for the janitor's sake, deal with haunting this school a different way. your death would affect more people than you’d know, so please.”

he doesn’t move, so hesitantly, as if it would change anything, you quietly add, "ah, he gave me food one time too.”

the boy’s back quivered, and your own trembling heart ached for him—but what you thought was sniffing turned into a loud, hearty laugh

you stood there, dumbfounded as you watched him.

"you're..." he tries to say through his giggles. when he catches his breath, he finally turns to you with the biggest smile.

"you're really stupid."

— ❝ but would it help if i said i've always loved you? ❞

frozen, you can only stand there gaping at him.

"i was just watching the sunset, but your reaction was so funny. you don't know how hard it was not to laugh."

what…?

you blink once, twice—then turning your heel, you begin to walk away.

"h-hey! wait!" he called from beyond the railings. "i'm sorry, okay? i was having too much fun—i didn't mean to scare you. please forgive me."

"scare me?" you scoffed. "kill yourself for all i care. it doesn't have anything to do with me."

— ❝ since that day... ❞

you just blurted it out of spite. you knew it was cruel, you didn’t mean it. you were just so angry. how dare he make a fool out of you? make a joke out of this? in your eyes, he was far more cruel.

“fine then.”

you turn back with a vile glare, but your heart stops as he takes a step back.

the boy hums in viscous amusement when he sees the horror in your eyes. in front of the blazing red of the sun, wearing his wide smile, he resembled a demon.

"forgive me, or i'll let go."

"d-don’t be stupid," you scowl, but you could barely feel yourself breathe.

then, just like that, one of his finger tips leave the metal bar—then another, and another.

you don’t know when you started running or how you even got there, but as soon as you hooked your fingers around his collar, you gave everything to pull him back.

"are you crazy?!" you scream, hot tears trickling down your eyes.

his annoying fit of laughter only angered you more.

— ❝ i loved you before i even knew you. ❞

"like i said, forgive me—and i won't try it again," he chimed in a playful tone.

you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

it scared you, his carelessness.

he scared you.

“okay, okay! i forgive you!” you yell exasperatedly. “god, you—you think this is funny? what the fuck is wrong with you?! you could’ve—just because i—y-you could’ve…r-right in front of me…and i-i…”

"hey, hey..." he chuckles softly, interlocking his fingers with yours through the metal fence.

you refused to look at him, but you could still feel the tingling warmth of his skin. you were close, the bars only stopping at your torso. when you look back at it, you remembered the seeping reality of his beauty.

his voice, his touch, him...

everything he did made you feel so out of control, so vulnerable.

who was he? why did you have to meet him?

"i knew you'd catch me, its fine."

"that's not the point here you suicidal bitch! i mean—what were you thinking? are you out of your mind? i swear to god—if you jumped and i became a suspect of murder, i'd dig up your own grave and kill you again!”

the boy’s eyes widened, shock dancing with his own bemusement. they were the same lifeless brown, but golden specks glimmered in where he looked at you.

finally, he smiles, “you’re horrible.”

you give a viscious glare, but before you can retort something, he continues, his hand trailing up your arm.

"but at the same time, horrible people don’t try to save a horrible person from dying. no, you can’t be horrible,” a cold shiver runs through your body when his fingers brush against your collarbone. “you’re just a sweet girl, aren’t you? an angel who saved me…”

he pulls you closer by your neck, his lips barely touching the shell of your ears. your breath hitches, and your knees suddenly feel weak.

“i’d love to ruin you.”

nothing comes out of your mouth.

all you can hear is your heart thumping against your chest. all you can feel is the unbearable heat blooming on your cheeks, and all you can see is him.

finally, his words settle in.

“get the fuck off me you creep!”

— ❝ you're never leaving me, my love. i won't let you. ❞

a/n : i’m so so so sorry if this triggered some people. this may be poorly written as well as i’ve written this YEARS ago. as you might tell, i was suicidal then and i often incorporated that in writing—its a way to get it off my chest sort of. to have relatable characters is something thats always made me comfortable. honestly rereading it again nothing makes sense LOL but i thought i’d continue it just for fun. i hope whoever has come across this is having a lovely and healing day, stay safe starlights <3

#bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #bangtan boys #bts fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bangtan #jungkook smut #bts jk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts yandere

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Princess

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

Based on a request. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your pussy is sore so Curtis uses your mouth.

Warnings - explicit sexual content (m/f) , age gap (reader is in her early twenties, Curtis is 34), innocent/naive reader, dub con, oral (m receiving), soft dark!Curtis, au, porn without plot.

Pairing - Curtis Everett x reader

Word count - 2k

You were jerked away when you heard the knob to your room on the snowpiercer rattling, and then being closed as his footsteps followed.

You didn't remember a lot before the train, you were just a kid when the old world came to an end.

You saw glimpses of grass and sunlight in your dreams, you weren't sure if they were dreams or just fragments of your imagination.

But even in your wildest dreams, you didn't imagine a bed this soft and a room this big. Big enough to fit the bed and two dressers and a large mirror. It was decadent and all you could wish for and more.

So it should make you happy to be here. In a comfortable bed like a princess. Shouldn't it?

It didn't. You wanted to enjoy this time while it lasted, but your gut told you that you were temporary. Just here to warm the leaders bed.

"Curtis…" your face heating up as he studied you, his powder blue eyes twinkling in the dim light, getting rid of his coat and cap. Goosbumps erupted all over your body as you held your soft comforter upto your chest,to give you some sense of modesty and dignity even if Curtis had taken it all from you and made you a woman just weeks ago.

You used fantasy to escape your grim reality quite often. It's easier to dream of a Prince Charming riding on a white horse to save you then to accept reality for what it is that you would've been stuck working in the greenhouse for the rest of your life… all alone.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he hissed, tearing the comforter away from you, holding onto your wrists to reveal your beautiful breasts to him. "You're mine now. You can't hide from me."

"I'm sorry…" you hung your head in shame, and so you wouldn't be caught peeking a glance at Curtis pulling his shirt over his head, followed by him unbuckling his belt.

He was… beautiful. You never knew anyone could be so handsome. His shoulders wide, a light scattering of hair all over his torso, multiple scars on his body. But they only, strangely, made him more appealing to you.

He climbed on top of the mattress, nudging your knees apart and situating himself between them. He growled as he looked at your bare sex, using two of his fingers to part your lips as you hissed in pain.

"It's… I'm… sore," you explained when he looked up at you.

He nodded back to you, pushing barely an inch of his forefinger inside you, he didn't want to hurt you. Your pussy was clearly swollen and overworked. If he gave into his urges he would be sure to cause you pain, and even worse, lose what little trust you have in him.

He had suffered enough to last him seven lifetimes. He already knew he was going to hell for all that he had done. It wasn't like he could doom himself anymore by forcing you to be with him. And he deserved you. After all that he had gone through. You were his light at the end of one long and shitty tunnel.

He pulled his hand away when he looked at your face, pinched in pain. Instead settling on fondling your breast as he thought about how to take care of his erection.

He had taken your body four times the previous night, which was why you slept the day away. How he managed to go out and get stuff done, and be the leader was beyond you.

"You like what you see, princess?" He taunted you when he caught you staring at his hard cock.

The little pet name was initially what he used to mock you and how shy and delicate and innocent you were, but now he had come to cherish you. He wanted to protect you as if you were his sweet little scared princess and he was your brave knight.

You immediately averted your eyes and started sputtering nonsense, your brain froze and you literally didn't know how to answer him. And Curtis had made it very clear that when he asked you a question you were to give him a proper, clear and honest answer. Or face grave consequences.

"Um, yes?" Which was the truth. You had seen a few male genitals in your life, they were all… not very appealing. But it was different with Curtis. His was beautiful and intimidating at the same time.

"Then how about," putting his leg over yours, he crawled to the top of the bed, kneeling before you with his hard, pulsating length was right in front of your face. "You make me happy."

"Oh…" you simply stared. Your friend had told you that you were 'one lucky bitch' to have a man like Curtis who spends hours pleasuring you with his mouth, his fingers, and his manhood, but never forced you to return the favor. You didn't even know how you would go about doing that.

You had explored your own body before. Partly because of your curiosity and partly for some relief. But Curtis touched you in a way no one else could, he made you climax harder than you ever had before, you were pretty sure you passed out once from the sheer intensity of it.

But… how does one go about doing the same with a man's special place?

"Hm," you looked at his slit, it looked somewhat similar to your bud, you held onto his length, putting your thumb over his tip where the pearly liquid oozed out of--with which he often loved painting your whole body with, or pump you full of it and just watch it seep out of you.

You realised how bold you were, that you should seek his permission before touching him there, you looked up to see him pleased with your actions so you decided to keep going.

You lightly pressed your thumb on his slit, making him hiss, you whipped your head up and pulled your hand away.

"Sorry…" you sniffed, your vision becoming blurry as your eyes teared up, "I've never.. I don't know what to do. I'm sorry…" you sobbed.

"Stop," he said softly, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

You really were such a scared little lamb. Years of pent up frustration, where he had to make do with just his hand, didn't help making you feel safe with him either. But what the hell was he supposed to do when he had such a beautiful woman next to him as he slept?

"Just listen to me. Can you do that?" he asked, cupping your jaw as you meekly nodded. "Open your mouth as wide as you can," he told you, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb.

Oh. It made sense. He puts his mouth on you so you should be able to do so on him as well. You opened your mouth with an 'ah', panicking just a bit when he put his hand around your throat, but he hushed you and asked you to relax. Since your body, mind and soul really did belong to him now, you immediately calmed down, knowing that he won't hurt you. Not too much anyway.

He pushed his length in your mouth. The taste wasn't at all what you expected. Not that you were sure what it would be like anyway. It tasted creamy and salty at the same time. You coughed and sputtered around him, your spit trailing down your chin. You thought that the mess would make him angry but then you recalled how much he enjoys the mess he makes of you.

He stopped when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat on his palm, "Good girl," he cooed, stroking your need. "Look up here," he ordered as you looked at him through your big doe eyes, "Keep looking at me okay?"

You didn't know if you were expected to give a verbal answer, because you couldn't… Not with a mouthful of Curtis. So you nodded the best you could.

"Hands on your thighs," he said as you put your hands on your bare thighs with the palms up. "Right now just sit there… just like that," he rasped as he pulled his hips back before bucking them forward, "And look pretty. Fuck… that mouth of yours… and it's all mine to do whatever I want with…"

He was making love to your mouth, just as he did between your legs.

You did as you were told, sitting and taking his assault on your mouth and throat. His ejaculate, your tears and your saliva drooling all over your lap. He was making love to your mouth, just as he did between your legs.

You could feel slick running down the side of your leg, not wanting to ruin the pristine white sheets and to create some much needed friction you closed your legs together.

He stopped his hips, the tip of his cock still in your mouth as he saw you squirming. "Touch yourself." He said.

Your eyes widened as you realised what he meant. You couldn't risk pulling him out of your mouth to protest. You were too embarrassed to do that in front of him as well.

"That's an order," he growled as he fucked in to your warm mouth, making you choke around him, pushing him closer to his release.

A shaky hand made its way to your core, past your pubic hair and between your thighs. You tried to emulate how Curtis touched you.

First he touched your thighs and kissed them all over. Then your ass and then he'd tease around your lips, torturing you for what would feel like forever before touching you where you most needed him.

You gathered your intimate juices, spreading them around your vulva before rolling your pearl between your fingers, moaning around his length.

"That's it, princess… come on, come with me," he groaned, slowly fucking into your mouth, holding off his release so he could watch you fall apart as he came in your mouth, one hand tangled up in your hair and another pinching and twisting your nipples.

Soon you were whimpering, you tried to tell him that you were close. Thankfully he seemed to understand as he picked up the pace. Fucking into your mouth till you could feel streaks of his release on the back of your throat.

You held onto his thigh so you could sit upright as your orgasm washed over you. Your nails digging into his skin as you screamed around his length.

"Swallow it all," he commanded as you gulped down all that you could.

You took in some much needed oxygen as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth, your chest heaving as he laid down beside you and pulled you into his body.

He thought you'd want to sleep after. Since you were so swollen and tired. He'd have to take it easy on you from now on. Maybe use your mouth every now and then to give your pussy a rest.

But then…

Were you grinding against his cock?

He propped your chin up so he could look at your face, the most innocent look on it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Um… are you done?" you asked, tracing a scar on his chest.

"You want something, princess?" he asked, pinching your buttock as you yelped.

"I was thinking… we could make love? It doesn't feel right not to. You know?"

"Right, of course, princess. Since you asked so nicely." He smirked as he climbed on top of you.

Taglist -

Permanent: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @thehumanistsdiary @navybrat817 @la-cey @captainsdolly @bluemusickid @zaddychris @the-wayward-robot @aikeia @kidney9-9 @notyourtypicalrose @selfcarecap @miraclesoflove @saiyanprincessswanie @gotnofucks @efferuse @americasass91 @coffeebooksandfandom @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @sweeterthanthis @cloudystevie @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @tenaciousperfectionunknown @labella420 @golden-ariess @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @starbooty

Chris Evans characters: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @angrythingstarlight @goldenfightergir @dangerouslovefanfic @melchills-j @xserenax-13

#curtis x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fanfiction #snowpiercer fanfic #snowpiercer fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader

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anordinarymuse · 3 years

Note

So I saw that you were taking requests for kaz x readers and was wondering if you would write a x gender neutral fic for him with the you can't see color till making eye contact with your soulmate trope? Can be as fluffy or as smutty as you'd like to write! And I'd you could maybe add in the plot where ur character much like inej was owned as a slave originally that would be awesome! Thank you and have a great day!!!

these color aus are so fun eek i hope you like it <3 i hope i did the gender neutral thing correctly bc i will dig my own grave if i didn’t.

offer.

Kaz Brekker x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary : request

Warnings : unedited.

Word Count : 692

A/N : im going thrifting tmr yay

the masterlist.

request here.

You sit alone in the private room of the Menajerie. Your silks drape loosely over your body and no matter how hard you pull at them, they always flop back down.

Apparently somebody had requested to meet with you privately, and private viewing never ended well, so you mentally you were preparing yourself.

The stupid feather tattoo on your forearm haunted you as sat limply and helplessly on a velvet couch. Everything you saw was in black and white, nobody else seemed to have this issue, and you couldn't figure out why you were like this.

Ever since you could remember you saw everything in black and white. When you asked other people if they had the same problem they'd tell you you were mad.

The private room was stuffy and you were slowly losing your consciousness from boring yourself, however your head perks up as soon as you feel something.

You didn't know how to explain it, but along with your monochrome madness you could feel things. Like presences, almost?

You sit up straight and flatten your silks, pressing on your hair while you're at it.

The door creaks open and a strange figure enters the room. The person wears a fedora that just so happens to hide their face.

"Y/N Y/L/N, correct?" The person asks briskly, holding a crow cane tightly in their hand.

Your head snaps up and your attention is instantly grabbed at the sound of your name.

You can’t remember the last time somebody called you by you real name.

"How do you-?" Your breath hitches getting caught up in your throat. You take a step back, away from the mysterious figure, the beat of your heart picking up.

"So you are Y/N Y/L/N," the figure says plainly, remaining conspicuous, looking down at the wooden floorboards.

"What do you want?" You snap, trying to hide your very present fear.

"I have an offer," the voice is clear and straight, and your eyes wander to their gloved hands, presumably leather but you can't be sure since all you see are shaded shadows.

"Why would you offer me anything?" Your voice isn’t clear or straight, instead it’s shaky and uneven.

"Because you have something I need," the voice responds without hesitation.

"And what's that?" You feel a strange flame alight in your chest.

"You knew I was coming before you heard me, right?" Suddenly, that flame turns to dust.

They know.

They know?

"You don't- you don't know anything about me," your voice returns to its shaky state, and the world of black and white around you begins to spin.

"I know enough to know that I want you on my side."

"Get away from me," you stumble back not taking your eyes off the figure. They don’t move forward but somehow you’re left even more afraid.

The room is quiet for a moment before the figure speaks again, this time a bit quieter, "Do you want out of the Menajerie?"

You stay silent and you stare hard at the shades of grey and black in front of you.

The private room already being dim does not help your case.

"Then accept.”

"I don't even know what I’m-"

"I'm not want to make a untrustworthy offer," their voice cuts you off, leaving no room for discussion.

Leaving the Menajerie?

That’s what I’ve only wanted ever since I stepped foot in this wretched place.

This might...

...might be my only chance.

"I-" your words stumble on top of each other, the notion of freedom seemed like insanity, but if this person wasn’t lying the you really would be free, "I get to get out of here?"

"It's guaranteed," their voice is steady and only now does the figure look up at you. They hold their cane even tighter now.

Your eyes travel to theirs, locking with their irises. You breath escapes your throat as you meet his eyes. His gaze is cold, but something told you that if you cracked the ice, deep inside was warmth.

Just as your eyes meet, the shades of gray begin to wash away.

And that's when you see it.

That's when you see color.

**********

taglist : @marimorena06 @missryerye @agirlwholovescoffee @nicole198205 @blackpinkdolan @gabitanaka47 @psychowanarchist @siriuspvdfoot @hufflepuffflowers @thatguppienamedbae @peachykeen3502 @missryerye @kaslupin @ayla-1605 @chazzyb73 @youngblood199456 @oranee @silly-little-bl0g @bobbyjohnsonbeat @jasgreen101 @will-to-live-who @erinblack003 @bellatrixscurls @krishavania @wh0re4blaise @thegirlwhocriedlupin @mrsaliciamalfoy @wwweasleystan @modernvellichor @westantheweasleys @lolaperezb @savagelysarcasticslytherin @zaraskyla @v4l3nt1n44 @sirisuorionblack @rinbyo @xdancinggurlx @lupinsravenclaw @hogwarts-boys @inglourious-imagines @siriuslyslyslytherin @kykymyeon @amwitherspoon @the-abyss-gazed-back @grishaverse7 @aus10-matthews @losers-club6 @chewiethecatus @i-padfootblack-things

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cj-sparkss · 3 years

Text

digging your own grave -

You knew Jean liked Mikasa. You knew. He made it painfully obvious too. You saw the way he looked at her, you wanted him to look at you like that. You saw the way his entire face would light up when she walked into a room, how he would only ever say good things about her. But you still fell in love with him, falling deeper and deeper every day. Every smile, every hug, every cocky quip or comment that came from his lips, you fell in love. Every time you came in contact with him, your heart fluttered inside your chest. You knew that you were slowly digging your own grave, but you just couldn’t distance yourself.

You simply couldn’t bear the thought of not gazing into those amber eyes everyday, not being able to smell his oddly soothing lavender and sandalwood scent radiating off his body every time you came close. You didn’t want to lose your best friend, even though it was hurting you in the process. But you still didn’t care. As long as you got to spend time with your best friend known as Jean Kirstein, you were fine.

Well, at least you thought you were.

One of the many, many times you knew you were in trouble and that you had it bad, was one day, when you and Jean were having one of your weekly movie nights.

Sitting back against the couch, you and Jean were watching a horror movie in his living room. Now, you weren’t one to get scared easily, but this movie was quite frightening. Every jump scare that popped out made you tremble in your seat, covering your eyes with your hands to block out the horror. Jean noticing your alarmed state, he simply chuckled to himself, shaking his head at your actions.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Hitting him in the arm, you jut out your bottom lip to a pouty face, crossing your arms at your best friends amusement. “Nothing, nothing. But if I recall correctly, these were your words,” Jean raises his hands, putting up air quotes with his fingers. “Let’s watch a horror movie tonight. I promise I won’t get scared, they're too cringey.” Smirking, he looks at you with those amber eyes, putting down his hands. “That sure didn’t age well.”

Scoffing, you turn your head back to the movie, hiding your smile on your face. “Oh shut up. I wasn’t scared, it was just a jump sca- Ahh!” Another jump scare appears on the screen, stopping you mid sentence and making you jolt in your seat. Pulling the cozy blanket up to your face, you tremble in fear, burying yourself under. Jean only laughs even harder at you, the sight clearly amusing him. Raising an eyebrow at you, he lifts the blanket, revealing your face. “Care to explain that then?”

“Hmph.” You turn your head away, crossing your hands on your chest. Shaking his head and letting out a dramatic sign, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder. Jean lifts the blanket even more, patting the space between the both of you. His amber eyes land on yours. “Come here.” You raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking what he means. Jean just looks at you with a straight face, a small smile on his lips. Albeit confused, you comply and scoot closer to him. He lets the blanket fall over the both you, and he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you closer to him. You tense in his hold, heat rising to your cheeks at his sudden affection. Sensing your stiff state, Jean pats your head with one hand, slightly ruffling your hair before placing it back around your waist.

“Relax. So you won’t get scared as easily. I’m here.” His deep voice vibrates throughout your body. The same familiar lavender scent takes over your nose, immediately calming your senses and bringing a smile to your face. Snuggling into his hold, you savor this moment, smiling in content to yourself. “Thank you.” Jean looks down at you, rubbing lazy patterns onto your side underneath the blanket. “You're too cute.”

And this was one of the times you knew you were in love. Although Jean might not have thought anything about this moment, he was simply just comforting his best friend. But to you, well, this moment meant the absolute world to you.

And then one day, you had finally reached your breaking point. You knew you had to confess, even if it meant losing your best friend in the process. It was all just getting too much for you, you being on the sidelines labeled as “the best friend”, pining after a guy that was in the front, pining after Mikasa, who was a goddess compared to a mere peasant like you.

So you decided that today was the day. Today was the day that you would confess. Today was the day that you would either lose your best friend, also known as the guy you are oh so hopelessly in love with. Or maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep in him he had feelings for you, and it would all just be happily ever after.

But who are you kidding, the latter was probably unlikely. but you were going to do it anyways, because the pain was becoming too much. Not being able to hold him, not being able to kiss his plump pink lips, not being able to hold his hand in public, announcing to everyone that yes, you guys are a couple. It was only ever in your fantasies that this would happen. So, this was the only option left.

Gathering all the remaining courage you have in you before you could back out, you walk the distance to Jean’s house, it being only a 10 minute walk away from yours. You gather the courage to walk up the front steps, and knock on the large white door. You gather the courage to look up into those soothing amber eyes when Jean opens the door, and you gather the courage to finally admit your feelings to the boy you love.

“I love you.” You stare into his eyes, not letting yourself look away in fear that you would chicken out of your confession. “I love you more than as a friend. More than just as a best friend.”

Jean’s mouth opens, face falling into a shocked expression. And then it closes. Those amber eyes that you have grown to love with all your heart, look into yours, a look of realization clouding. His mouth opens again, words trying to fall out, but nothing. Then it closes. The same mouth that is usually always ready to fire back with a reply is left rendered without one.

And then silence. Just silence.

You know what that means. You look down at your feet, shuffling in your spot, tears brimming in your eyes. And then finally, after what seems like forever, he speaks. “I’m sorry. I- I just don’t feel the same.” You snap your gaze back to him. He awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck, eyes filled with worry.

Of course. That’s Jean after all, always telling it like it is. He looks down at his feet, afraid to look into your eyes knowing he might have just broken your heart, which he did.

And then there it is again. That feeling.

The overwhelming feeling in the back of your throat, when you're trying your absolute hardest not to burst out in tears. It's like a huge lump pressing on your throat, taunting you, even starting to hurt. “Come on. You know you want to cry. Tch, pathetic.” Endless tears pooling in your bottom eyelid, blurring your vision and threatening to spill out with the blink of an eye. Your bottom lip begins to quiver, your face falling into a broken expression.

You ball your hands into hard fists, digging your nails into your palm, not even caring about the pain the action brings. Because maybe pain will override the tears. Maybe pain is all you have left. But despite your efforts, the first wave of tears spill from your eyes, slowly streaming down your face in a competition to which can fall off first.

“I- I’m so sorry.” Jean lifts his head up to look at you, only to be faced with your eyes full of tears. “Shit. You’re crying.” In an attempt of comfort, he moves his right arm to place it on your shoulder, only for you to slap it away. “I’m fine.”

But really, you’re not fine. You begin to walk away, only to be stopped by a large hand grabbing at your wrist. You turn around, meeting Jean’s eyes. “C- can we still be friends?”

Smiling a sad smile, you nod your head. “Of course. We always will be.” And with that, he lets go, and you walk away.

But you and him both know that it isn’t true.

#jean #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean aot #jean attack on titan #jean angst #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot jean #attack on titan jean

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ripperdaddy · 3 years

Text

the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve

Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡

It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.

I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.

I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.

And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.

V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.

Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.

V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.

Vik: That’s what friends are for.

Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.

V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.

He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”

You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.

You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.

V: Nice choice of venue.

Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.

V: I miss him, Vik.

Vik: I know, V. Me too.

You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.

You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.

Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.

You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.

Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.

V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.

Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.

pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Johnny: Hmm, interesting.

V: What?

Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.

V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.

Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.

V: I'm not.

Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.

V: Eat a dick, Johnny.

You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.

V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?

Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.

V: You miss it, don’t you?

Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.

There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.

Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.

You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.

The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.

I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.

The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.

then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ

The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!

Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.

Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.

If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.

V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.

Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.

V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.

Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.

V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.

Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.

V: Thanks, coach.

Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.

Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.

This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!

(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)

Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.

They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.

As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.

Then the game officially ends.

#cyberpunk 2077 #viktor vector #v/vik #let us romance the ripperdoc you cowards

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Gimme Love, 6/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp, I'm back from travelling! For anyone interested to know how it went; it was great (if you love stress). Liverpool is a lovely place but I've destroyed my bank account :D

Anyway! We got 4 more chapters of this fic! This is where the conflict begins. I hope yall enjoy.

TW for this chapter: Homophobia, homophobic slurs

2020

The cake was in the fridge. We'd be seeing him later. For now, we settled for some spaghetti. It had become a sort of tradition for Jujubee and me for moments that needed celebrating. But we hadn't done it in so long, what with the stress of work.

"So, Juju, as you can see, I've labelled the pages you're allowed to read, so don't go looking at other shit, OK?" I asked, chopping up a red bell pepper.

"Why? If I do, am I gonna find some porn-y shit?" She quipped, running a hand along with the butterfly print book.

"Honestly, you know all of those details anyway." I gave her a smirk, taking a piece of pepper and throwing it over to her.

I almost expected it to fly past her head, but she caught it in her mouth. Skill.

"OK, but what's in the box, though?"

I almost forgot what she was even referring to. But following her gaze, I saw it, sitting on the kitchen counter beside the fridge. "Oh, that?" I scraped the peppers into the saucepan, "That is my memory box."

"Ooh, that's even more exciting." She beamed.

"No. We're not opening it." I moved on to an onion.

"Aw, why not?" Jujubee whined.

"Because I made my Mom promise me she wouldn't give it to me until I turned 50. But I was weak and begged her to give it back. So now, I've promised myself to not look inside until I turn 50." The air was no longer clean, poisoned with the acid from the onion. My eyes were beginning to sting.

"Aw, Brie, you don't need to get all emotional about it." She had to go and joke about the tear now trickling down my cheek.

"Girl, this is torture," I wipe my eye along my wrist, pretty sure my eyeshadow has been fucked up. "Did I fuck up the smokey eye?"

"Nope." I knew she was lying to me, but she couldn't take her eyes away, "You look absolutely gorgeous as usual."

"Not as hot as you, though." I sniffed. I needed her to focus on reading so I could finish chopping the onion as soon as possible. "Anyway, you wanna read something in there?"

Jujubee opened the book and immediately laughed, "Jesus Christ, Brie, bit dark."

She showed me the first page, childlike scribblings read 'Brianna's Diary. DO NOT TOUCH! Or this will happen to you!' An arrow led to a picture of a grave.

"I never even noticed that before," I chuckled.

"With a warning like that, I better find some crazy shit in here." she cleared her throat, "So starting in 1994, 'Diary Diary, Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'" Jujubee lowered the diary, "you bitch, why did you upset me?"

"I have no idea, girl. I mean, didn't we do that a lot back then?" I shrugged.

"I bet you started it though," She lifted the book again, a coy smile on her face. "OK, moving on to 1995," she cleared her throat, "'Dear Diary, today Mommy and Juju's Mommy took us to see Pocahontas at the movies. It was very good. Goodnight.'" Jujubee paused to giggle, "God, I love how detailed this is. You could have added so much more."

"Girl, I was 8 years old. Writing more than 4 sentences was like writing the bible to me." I countered, finally scraping the onions into the pan with the peppers.

"Yeah, but we did so much more that day. We went to McDonald's after, we found that little frog pond in the woods." She pointed out.

I hadn't even remembered that. Now I kind of wished my younger self would have pushed herself to write more.

I was too busy rifling through my messy cabinet for oregano to notice Jujubee just flicking through page by page.

"But, you wrote 3 pages worth of poetry to Blair St Clair?"

Once I found the spice, I spun around to look at her, "Juju, I told you to only look at the pages that were labelled."

She held a hand up, "OK, I'm sorry." She closed the book.

I felt bad, thinking maybe my harsh tone brought the fun to a grinding halt. Squeezing my eyes shut, releasing a sigh, I said, "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

She took a sip of her water while I added the oregano to the saucepan.

"So, did you text her back?" She played with the glass in her hands.

I pursed my lips and shook my head. "Why? Do you think I should?" I asked quietly.

"Nah, not really."

"Well, why not?"

Jujubee shrugged her shoulders and went to look at her nails. "Don't know."

I clicked my heel, my tongue running along the top row of teeth behind my closed mouth. "Well, I've been thinking about it. I mean, maybe that's the problem. Maybe I could be a bit more responsive."

She made a humming sound. I was unsure what it was supposed to mean.

"OK, what's going on?" I put both hands on the counter.

"I don't know. I just think…" she paused, trying to find her words, "I don't see the point because the same shit will just happen again."

"The same shit?" I repeated, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, her speaking all but 10 words to you and then completely ignoring your existence." She put a hand under her chin.

"Well, maybe that wouldn't happen if I actually spoke to her like I wasn't terrified for once," I suggested.

She squeezed her eyes together, "Oh no, Brie. I knew this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen?"

"The whole Blair thing. I thought you were over it. Well, until she messaged you recently, I had a creeping feeling that it was all gonna come back."

"Juju, listen to yourself. You're talking like this is an actual problem."

"I hate to say it, but it is. Do you remember the time she hung out with you in the library? You were so excited the next day. I hadn't seen you so happy in so long. You wouldn't stop talking about how she would probably be there again." She paused, "But she wasn't. And you were so disappointed."

"Yeah, but things could be different now."

"And how's that?"

"Well, I'm a different fucking person now, that's one thing. I'm successful, I'm smart, I'm hot as fuck, rich as fuck - -"

"And you think that's gonna be the game-changer for her? That she's gonna come running into your arms? Because if that's the case, that says a lot about her." Jujubee rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm a big girl, now. If it happens again, I'll just get on with things. I'll move on.

"That's a lie."

I squinted my eyes. "Why are you being like this right now? You're so salty just because I fucked wrote a private letter to her as a child."

"This isn't about the letter, Brie. You know why I'm being like this. You shouldn't need to ask." But she continued, "You've never dealt with never having parents. You think that if Blair was to suddenly be truly interested in you, you'd get over the feeling of being unwanted. Yet you're surrounded by people who love and support you, who'd stick with you to the end. But right now, you don't give two fucks about them because you're too busy panicking about some girl from high school."

I lift my head again, putting one hand on the desk and the other on my hip, "Well, congratulations, Juju. Sounds like you got me all figured out. Hey, you wanna talk about my Grandpa next?"

She only reacted to that with a scowl. And she spoke again.

"You remember the prom? Do you remember what happened? Do you remember how she didn't do anything to stop Trevor?"

My eyes shifted away, just for a second. "She told him to stop."

"Which did nothing."

I wanted to argue how she was unfair. How it was so wrong to blame Blair for the prom incident. But I was distracted by a burning smell. Only now did I notice the onions and peppers blackening.

I quickly moved the saucepan off the heat, feeling it only radiating in my own face. I put a hand on the counter, the other on my hip. "OK, Juju, maybe you should leave."

It was safe to say Jujubee was taken aback. She remained still for a second before pushing her stool out. "So that's how it is? Kicking me out when you're faced with the truth?"

"Juju, just leave, please." I felt my hands clench around the edge of the counter, my nails digging into my hip.

"I am!" She grabbed her coat and stormed from the kitchen. I flinched upon hearing the door slam shut, and only then did it sink in - the dread, the feeling of regret.

I looked at the hob, the burnt vegetables unsavable. So they went in the trash. My stomach grumbled. But I couldn't bring myself to start over again.

Opening my fridge, my eyes were immediately on the cake. And I glanced over my shoulder, looking where she had sat, now feeling a sense of emptiness. Not in me, but the room. Like I was alone.

I was alone.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I repeated as my hand clenched on the door. The cool air from the fridge felt nice but not enough to stop my panic.

I looked at the cake again, feeling the urge to throw it out the window. Or maybe just send it back to her.

Bitchy, I know. But I couldn't help it. I wouldn't be feeling like this if she hadn't acted the way she did.

I slammed the door shut, kicking it for extra measure. And in my heels, I almost tripped.

Filled with more anger, I paced around for a few minutes, aggressively cussing to myself.

Don't get me wrong, one part of me said she was right about Blair.

No. She isn't. I was going to prove Jujubee wrong.

I picked up my phone from the counter, found the message and began to type with trembling fingers.

"Blair…" I panted, "So sorry...for getting back to you so late... I'm a busy woman, as you...probably already know...Look... I'm just gonna say it...I really like you...I always have...You make me feel so confused...yet so happy at the same time...I feel a connection between us...I always have...I don't know whether you ever felt it or not...but I do hope so...I would love to meet up with you sometime soon...and maybe have a coffee...I don't know...maybe even some wine, if you want. I look forward to hearing back. Brie x"

My thumb hovered over the send button. The only sound I could hear was the ticking of the clock. Not even my own breathing.

I pulled my thumb away, closed my eyes and breathed out. "Brie. You sound fucking crazy. You sound insane. You can't just send shit like that." I repeated words of the same nature to myself, trying to usher myself off the edge before I could do something idiotic.

"Jesus Christ." I opened my eyes again, which were now glossy with tears. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't let them fall.

Big mistake.

I thought I tapped the chat bar, going to delete the message. But my blurred vision said, "haha, no."

I tapped the button next to the chat bar. The send button.

The little noise my phone made as it was sent may as well have been the same as a gun clicking.

"Oh, God." My eyes couldn't tear away from the small screen. My heart rate increased. "No, no, no, you fucking idiot!" I pressed my thumb down on the message.

There was a delete option.

I clicked it.

'Are you sure? The recipient may have already seen the message.'

I backspaced to check.

There it was, the tiny version of her profile picture falling to the bottom of the screen. She was reading it.

"Fuck!!" I blurted.

I put the phone down on the counter, began pacing for a moment, and looked back at the phone. This went on for a few minutes. I wanted to be as far from my phone as possible. But also needed to know if she had replied.

This was it.

Blair was going to know how I was weirdly obsessed with her.

She was going to know I was checking her out in the library that one time.

She was going to know that I had fingered myself so many times at the thought of her.

What were my options?

Suicide - Not gonna happen.

Running away - But the project.

Reply with 'Hey, sorry! My friend took my phone, haha' - did anyone ever believe that excuse?

Block her before she could reply - then she'd think I was even more crazy.

Call up her place of work and somehow get her phone confiscated - why, though? That would involve Facebook stalking her again, trying to think of an excuse. Even if I did so successfully, she still saw the message.

All of the options just lead to cons. It was hopeless.

With shaky fingers, I switched my phone off and practically threw it onto the counter.

My body sank to the ground, now holding my head in my hands.

What do I do? What do I fucking do?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

2004

I was shaking. Only slightly.

There was something about the prom that made me feel so on edge.

Maybe it was all the people, all together in one room.

Perhaps it was the fact the chess boys asked to make out.

Or perhaps it was the fear of missed opportunities. Opportunities that involved a certain someone.

I watched from the side of the room as Blair took pictures with her friends on her pink digital camera. There was a feeling of regret causing my stomach to twist, my fists clenching onto my purple dress.

That could have been me.

I felt a hand moving a curled lock of hair from my shoulder.

"Just think, girl; we're almost there," Jujubee appeared in front of my vision, "College is just around the corner."

"I can't wait to be out of here," I spoke quietly.

Everyone turned their attention to the stage as Rosé appeared, announcing it was time to crown Prom King and Queen.

"Well, it's pretty obvious who our queen is." Jujubee crossed her arms.

I knew who she was thinking of. To be fair, it was pretty obvious. But I wasn't complaining.

Trevor was our Prom King, not my King anyway. I scoffed as he cheered, being pushed up to the stage by his team.

"Jesus Christ, who would have thought." Jujubee took a sip of her punch, spilling a drop on her lilac puffy-sleeved dress.

"And your Prom Queen is…" Rosé paused, pulling the result from the envelope.

3...2...1…

"Blair St Clair!"

I smiled for the first time since walking into the place. I applauded her victory as she walked up onto the stage.

Blair hugged Rosé and whispered something in her ear. I had no idea what it was, but I was too distracted as Trevor just stared.

"You wanna make a speech, girl?" Rosé joked into the mic.

Blair laughed, covering her face with embarrassment. She turned down the offer.

"OK. Everybody," Rosé held a hand to Blair and Trevor, "You're King and Queen of 2004."

Blair looked slightly uncomfortable as Trevor put an arm around her waist. Why couldn't he get the hint she was done with him?

The two got down from the stage, Trevor's gaze following her in confusion as she moved far away from him.

"Aren't they supposed to do a dance now?" Jujubee asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, Juju. I've only seen proms in movies, and they're quite obviously exaggerated."

My eyes landed on Blair once more. Trevor was whispering something in her ear, and she shook her head, rolled her eyes and walked away. Yikes, he was desperate.

"Jesus, I'm fucking nervous." Rosé was approaching us now, well, the punch table we stood beside. "Getting up on stage gets my body shaking, you know?"

"Wish I could do that." Jujubee replied.

"Yeah, well, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do." Rosé replied.

I eyed her suspiciously. This was odd; she'd never really spoken to us before.

"But of course," she looked left, then right, before pulling a flask from her bra and pouring it into a cup, "this helps. You ladies want one?"

"Nah, I'm good," Jujubee made a stank face.

Me, on the other hand, having never drank alcohol in my life, piped up, "Actually, yeah. Could you just pour me a shot of whatever that is?"

"Yeah, of course," and she didn't lie. She poured me a shot of vodka. No spitting in the cup, no adding anything sneakily, no hostility.

She passed the cup to me, giving a mischievous wink.

Tossing it back, I was totally shocked by the burning sensation it caused to my throat. I began to cough and splutter.

"Girl, chill out, or you're gonna draw attention to yourself." Rosé looked around.

I placed the cup down on the table, the plastic practically crumbling in my hand.

"This is it. The beginning," Jujubee joked, dabbing the corner of my mouth with her pinky. I didn't even know there was a drop of liquid there.

And I didn't know there was a hair out of place either. Because she was stroking a soft hand down my temple to my cheek.

"Brie, do - -"

"Juju, I'm gonna ask her to dance with me," I said all too loud.

The hand dropped instantaneously, her smile falling in a matter of seconds. Of course, I expected this shocked reaction. Even Rosé had nearly choked on her drink.

"For real?" Jujubee asked after a silent moment.

"Yep," I answered proudly, putting my hands on my hips.

"I guess you've never touched a drop of alcohol in your life, loser." Rosé leaned close to me.

"Something like that." I felt slightly uncomfortable now that she was dangerously close to me.

She snorted a laugh, holding up her hands as she walked away, "I'm not responsible for this."

So this was what they called liquid courage. Yeah, it was one shot, but it was my very first. And I was already feeling it. The buzz.

I turned to make my way to the girl I loved when Jujubee grabbed my hand, "Brie, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," I replied too quickly, tugging to pull away.

"Are you sure?" Her brows knit, "You're not gonna be upset if she says no, right?"

One final strong tug was enough to release her grip on me, "No, Juju. I'll be fine, just...stop questioning me, OK?"

She was silent, her arms dropping by her side.

But I continued on in my mission, vision slightly blurred, insides warmed.

Everyone around us was gone like they had just stepped into another world, leaving Blair and me in this reality. Or maybe it was the two of us who disappeared, somehow falling into the wormhole and ending up in the other world.

Or maybe it was just liquid courage.

There were only a few metres between us now. "Blair?"

She had been taking a sip of her coke when she looked up and noticed me. Wiping the corners of her mouth, she put the can down.

"Brianna!" She beamed. Her eyes looked me up and down, causing a brief moment of panic, "wow, look at you. You look great."

"Yeah, right, compared to you." I stifled a laugh.

"Oh, shut up." She smirked.

"So, um…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, looking away and to the ground, "I was just...wondering...if you'd wanna dance with me?"

I didn't lift my gaze. Only now did I understand what Jujubee meant. The girl hadn't even said no yet, and my heart was already sinking.

"It's just...this song is so good, and it's the end of the year, and we may not - -"

Before I could continue rambling, she cut me off.

"Sure. Yeah, I'll dance with you."

I lift my gaze to see her glittering smile. Like in the library, time didn't feel real anymore, and I needed to remind myself to breathe. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course." She briefly knit her brows like it shouldn't have been questioned. She took my hand in her perfect french manicured one, "Come on."

As we made our way to the dance floor, I was only now reminded that there were people here. So, we didn't slip through a wormhole. This was real. This was reality.

Blair found a spot on the floor, turned to me and wrapped her arms around the back of my neck.

For a moment, I was unsure of where to put my hands. I glanced over her shoulder, noting the couple also slow dancing. She has her arms around his neck. He had his arms around her waist.

I was hesitant at first but eventually gave in. Blair didn't mind. And I felt myself relax.

She just stared at me, the sweet smile still on her face. The music echoed around us. The lights were low. Pink tinted.

"So, how does it feel winning Prom Queen?" I asked. Of course, it felt amazing for her, but I needed to find an excuse to speak. Anything to avoid the somersaults my stomach was doing.

"I mean, it's nice, I guess. But, it's all bullshit anyway?" Her smile faltered, "Not something anyone in the future will give a fuck about, right?"

I disagreed. If I were to win prom queen, I would feel validated. And I would make sure I'd bring it up to everyone I ever met. Pathetic, I know.

"Well, I can't think of anybody better," I admitted. "Maybe they could have chosen a better King."

"Agreed." She nodded. "You know, literally just now, he tried to use this whole King and Queen thing to 'try again'. Not even that long before you came up to me. Brianna, I've already given him another chance. And he blew it."

"During the Summer?" I recalled.

"Yep." She pursed her lips.

"What did he do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, he just had some major anger problems," her eyes widened for a moment, "He never hurt me, though. He just...got so angry over the dumbest shit. It was just too much."

She puffed out a breath, the frown on her face appearing.

"You don't have to tell me any more," I said quickly.

"Sorry, I don't wanna get emotional." She looked back at me. "It's just... it's hard not to. You're a good listener."

How should I have felt knowing that was her analysis of me from very little time spent together? She really trusted me. "Blair... I'm sorry about that time in the library. When you mentioned my Grandpa. I feel terrible now."

"Please, don't. You were grieving."

'Was I really though?' I held back from saying.

"I never really had a Dad," I smiled, seeing his stupid smile in my head, "But he was the closest equivalent to that."

"I know what you mean." She began, "My Dad…" she trailed off for a moment, "He wasn't the best. You probably remember that one time I ran away as a kid. When you walked me to my Grandma's."

I wasn't even tense in the first place, but my body felt like it relaxed. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do. It really meant a lot, Brie." Her thumb stroked the back of my neck. I don't know if she did this intentionally or subconsciously. Was she even thinking about it? "That day, I never went back. Ever. My Grandparents took full custody of me, and they became my second parents. The ones I always deserved."

I felt my body relax even more like this was normal. "Blair, I wanna carry on something my Grandpa started."

"What's that?"

"It sounds crazy," I pause, "But he wants me to find a parallel universe."

I paused to take in her reaction. She did look taken aback for a moment. Could you blame her? "Is it even possible?"

"I mean, at first I thought he was a bit out there asking me something like that, on his deathbed and all. But I've been studying really hard, and I think it's achievable."

"That's interesting." She nodded. "So, what are you gonna do at college?"

"Drugs." I giggled before the smile dropped, "OK, not funny. Bad joke."

"I'm laughing, though." She was.

"Um, no. I'm gonna do Astronomy and Space science."

"I didn't know that was a major you could do," Blair replied.

"Me neither. What about you, though? Something in theatre?"

Blair lowered her gaze for a brief moment, "I dunno, Brie. I honestly don't see college as a me-thing. I'm constantly torn between theatre, fashion merchandising, cosmetology, politics..."

"Politics?" I laughed and instantly hoped she didn't take offence to that.

"What?" She smirked. "What's funny?"

"I just…" I paused, feeling my heart skip a beat as a particular memory came back. "This is crazy. I can't believe I remember this. All I can think about right now is the day we met. Remember the first day of elementary? On the bus? I told you I wanted to be a politician when I was older, just 'cause they liked to shout a lot. And you couldn't say the word right."

"Oh fuck, now that you mention it, I do remember." Blair laughed, "That was such a long time ago. We were so little." She looked away as if her mind had transported her to that moment. Did she remember it like I did? Did she remember how she held my hand and told me she was my friend?

And then never sat with me ever again?

My eyes had drifted away, looking over her shoulder at nothing in particular. The bad thoughts were taking over. I didn't want them to. I wanted to enjoy this moment forever. Just swaying back and forth with Blair in the middle of the dance floor.

She stroked her thumb on the back of my neck again, causing a spark to course through me.

Blair's looking at me again. "Brianna, how come we never talked more?"

I don't know if it was just me fantasising again, but her face was moving closer to mine, ever so slowly.

I had the answer to her question. But it couldn't ruin this moment. "I don't know," I whispered.

She was closer now, head tilted to the left.

And I found myself doing the same.

This was another fantasy. This isn't real.

I felt her breath on the corner of my mouth.

It felt real.

It was.

There was a frustrated roar.

A tight fist clenched around my arm.

I was pulled back forcefully.

My feet gave way.

I was on the ground.

"Are you kidding me??" Trevor stood in front of Blair, his face red with anger, "You won't fucking dance with me, but you'll dance with her??"

Everyone around us was just standing there, too shocked to do something.

"Trevor, what the fuck??" Blair went to move around him, trying to get to me. He only pushed her back.

"Of all the people, why her??" He grilled Blair with more questions. She looked afraid now.

Why the fuck wasn't anyone doing anything??

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but looking around, I saw it was actually Rosé. "Trevor, what the fuck??"

He turned to look as if offended that anyone else got involved. How could they not? Seeing her helping me stand must hit a nerve. Because he's snatched a cup of punch from a bystander, "Why are you defending the dyke??" And he threw the cup forward, the liquid drenching my hair and splattering my dress.

That was the final straw. I could feel my chest heaving.

I ran to the nearest exit. Running from the school. As soon as I felt the cool air on my skin, I wrapped my arms around my stomach. I was bent over, throwing up all the panic. Sparks of the bile dotted the bottom of my dress and shoes. I didn't care. My dress was already ruined.

I heard the door open behind me and immediately began to move again.

I tried to run, but the heels made it hard.

The person was in front of me now, hands on my face, tears streaking her face.

I expected it to be Blair.

But it was Jujubee.

"Brie, it's alright. I punched him for you." She whimpered, her hands on either side of my face, holding me tenderly.

My breathing was rugged, trying so hard to listen to her reassuring whispers. But in my head was the sound of the crowd gasping and Trevor shouting.

No one was going to forget about this. I'd be reminded by the stares in the corridors, how they'd whisper to each other.

"Let's go to my house. You can stay over if you want." Jujubee's sweet voice brought me out of my thoughts.

Words still failing to surface, I nodded.

As soon as we got in, she ran me a hot bath. Whilst I cleaned myself of the sticky punch that covered my hair and face, she made chocolate mug cakes with ice cream.

Sitting there in her room, dressed in her fluffy pyjamas, eating her food, I should have felt better. I should have been happy. But I just stared at the mug in my hand, still thinking of Trevor's anger and Blair's distressed face.

Jujubee took the mug from me, set it aside along with her own, and enveloped me in a hug. "Don't cry, Bri. Please, don't cry."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was crying." I wept.

"Don't apologise." She shushed me, "It's OK. You're OK."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

2020

And even now, I didn't realise I was crying again. And as it was too late to stop myself, I remembered sobbing into Jujubee's shoulder, holding her tightly, like she was the only one who could get me through it. She was the only one who could get me through it.

The events of the prom left me scared, always so on edge when walking those school corridors. Just terrified that Trevor would round the corner and do something worse.

But Jujubee was there for me every time. She'd hold my hand, not giving a fuck about who looked at us weird.

I know I should have grown a backbone and defended myself, and what had actually happened shouldn't have been as damaging as it was. But, hey, I was only human.

Jujubee got in a lot of trouble for punching Trevor in the face. But she didn't mind. "Just as long as he got what was coming to him," she had said.

Hearing her retell the event, I wish I had been there. She had jumped on him, tackling him to the ground and punched him over and over again.

But as exciting as that all was, I didn't speak to Blair again. I didn't think about her. I didn't talk about her. I didn't even look at her. Blair wasn't the one to come after me that night. She never even approached me to talk about it. She didn't give a fuck.

So I kept my distance.

And just as life went on without her, she just had to go and message me. After years of silence, she couldn't have left well enough alone.

I finally lifted my head. I reached up and grabbed my phone. Turning it back on, I immediately deleted Messenger, hoping to never see Blair's response.

This would be the beginning of my journey toward happiness.

Yeah. That was it. That's what I would do.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw homophobic slurs #tw homophobia

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ymiwritesstuff · 4 years

Note

Okay, I have a request for Kakyoin this time. Could you do one where he's just become a vampire and is trying to keep away from the female reader as he's scared of hurting her but she comforts him? Thank you, you're work is amazing!

Vampire Kakyoin is one of my favorite things ever and I was happy to receive a request for him! Thanks for the request once again, thanks for the extremely kind words and I hope you enjoy!

Isolation

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 3: Stardust Crusaders

Noriaki Kakyoin x Reader

Summary: To some, gaining immortality instead of dying a painful death was too good to be true. But for Kakyoin, it was far worse.

Notes: Small angst?? Fluff

Kakyoin had always thought that defeating Dio would make everything great again, thinking that once the blond vampire would cease to exist, all evil and negativity in his life would disappear with him. He would be able to enjoy life with his beloved, perhaps even watch his own children grow up if you so desired. Everything would be perfect and no one he loved would be in any danger.

However that was not the case at all as to him, someone he loved was in grave danger whenever he was around you.

Kakyoin knew that he had a very high chance of losing his life when he was about to challenge Dio directly. It was necessary in order to gain knowledge about his stand and he should’ve been grateful for having survived such an attack. But nowadays he couldn’t help but to wonder if it was for the better if he had never survived The World’s blow. He found it ironic that the blood of someone who tried to kill him would be the thing that ultimately allowed him to still exist in this world. However Kakyoin would soon come to realize just now difficult being an immortal vampire really was.

The moment he woke up in the hospital, he immediately noticed a change. His fresh fangs lightly grazed his bottom lip, his skin was cold as ice and no signs of Dio’s attack were apparent on his abdomen. Kakyoin didn’t know how to react to his new form. He felt a massive amount of power flowing through his veins, enhancing his physical strength beyond that of any human. The tiny wound on his lips due to his fangs was cured within seconds and when he went to open the blinds of his window he received a cruel reminder of his weakness. He would never be able to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

But the thing that was far more terrifying for Kakyoin wasn’t his new unknown abilities or even the deadly orb in the sky. The most terrifying thing of all was the fact that Kakyoin was dangerous. Dangerous to the point where he thought of himself as someone who would hurt or even kill the one he loved. Kakyoin was afraid to be around you. What if he suddenly lost control and drained you from the essential red liquid flowing through your body? What if he unintentionally hurt you due to his superhuman strength?

All these questions ran wild in his head, causing him to isolate himself from everyone. He would stay home, sleep during the day and spend the nights with himself, trying to return back to a normal life. Kakyoin couldn’t refuse your occasional pleas to go out with him, but he was far too afraid to allow himself to be alone with you. This caused your dates under the darkness of the night to be rather awkward as there would always be a third or fourth individual with you, often being someone from the crusaders. But even when you thought you would have some private time with your boyfriend at his home, he always denied your entrance. Kakyoin knew you didn’t like it, but he had to think about your safety above all. You were extremely saddened by his behavior, but understood what he was going through. Becoming an immortal being wasn’t exactly easy, but you only wished to help, not wanting Kakyoin to endure everything alone.

The knock on his apartment door snapped the red haired male out of his thoughts, his lavender eyes quickly moving towards the sound. He wasn’t used to visitors so after standing up, he carefully made his way to the door, peaking through the peephole. His eyes widened as soon as he noticed a feminine form, the (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes he knew too well. You wore a worried expression on your face as you patiently waited for him to open the door. Kakyoin was also worried, but not for the same reason. What worried him was the fact that you were at his apartment door, alone. He wanted to ignore your knocks in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t home, but upon hearing your voice from the other side, his insides twisted with anxiety.

“Nori? Are you there? Please open the door, I need to talk to you” Kakyoin had his back against the door, his head spinning. Should he let you in and risk your life? But how was he ever going to face you again if he was a prisoner in his own home? He looked through the peephole again. You hadn’t moved, your expression hadn’t changed as it had the same pain. With a sigh you began to retreat from the door, thinking that he either wasn’t home or didn’t want to be disturbed.

Kakyoin subconsciously opened the door before you could get far, keeping the door chain intact just in case. His eyes fell on yours, his hands trembling. “You shouldn’t be here”, he said with a voice so quiet you barely heard it yourself. “Nori, please.. I want to talk to you..” Your words make him avert his gaze from you in uncertainty. He knows he should just slam the door shut and stop himself from hurting you. However that would only save you from the physical pain as his refusal would undoubtedly also inflict pain upon you.

With a sigh he closes the door enough so he can release the chain in order to let you in. You smile in relief as you step in, observing him as you do. His crimson hair is a mess, his eyes lack their usual spark, that spark seemingly replaced by uneasiness. This anxiety radiating from him causes you to approach him, attempting to touch his face in a soothing manner. Kakyoin however swiftly denies your quiet request by taking your hand in his cold one and placing it down. “Don’t.. You’ll get hurt..” The last bit of his sentence is almost mute, but your ears catch it, causing you to frown your brows in both confusion and concern. “What do you mean? Nori, what’s wrong?” Your words of worry dig into his soul, stabbing him in the most vulnerable places. He’s unable to contain his fears within so he sighs and looks at you with eyes filled with sorrow

“I’m dangerous (Name). You could get hurt at any time. I don’t...” He struggles to find the right words almost as much as he struggles looking at your eyes. “I don’t know if I’m able to control myself. My powers..” He looks at his trembling hands with long nails that could easily end any living creature’s life. He hated how much this hurt him. He didn’t lose his life on that fateful day, but it had cost him his humanity, his confidence in himself and quite literally his ability to embrace you into a warm embrace full of love.

“Nori, you know that’s not true” Your words cause him to finally lock his eyes on you. The expression you hold is serious yet determined. “You would never hurt me, right?” Your question is rhetorical as you know his answer already. You carefully take his icy hand in yours which he thankfully doesn’t reject. Even if his hand lacks the previous warmth, it’s still his hand that you want to be lovingly touched and embraced by. “You’re not dangerous, Nori. I understand how difficult it is. I can only imagine what you’re going through” He listens to you carefully, squeezing your hand. Your gaze quickly falls on his lavender eyes once more. “But that’s why I want to help you. Please Nori, don’t shut yourself away from people.. From me..”

Kakyoin felt your hands wrap around him. His first instinct was to pull away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t possibly deny a loving embrace from you. You were right, he had to let people in or he would never learn to live with his vampirism. Only now was he starting to realize just how much he truly needed you. He returned the embrace by wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “I know (Name).. I’m sorry” You shake your head against his chest.

“Don’t be. I understand. Just please.. Allow me to help. You’re not alone.. You don’t have to be”

This was the moment of realization for Kakyoin. He realized that this was what he was expecting after Dio’s defeat. You, his beloved by his side and not only him and his curse. He was a fool to think that he could isolate himself from you. Because you always made your way into his heart, even though he no longer actually possessed one. No matter what he was, you would never leave him or feel threatened while with him. He was the most caring, loving and kind person you had ever met and that would never change. You were the reason Kakyoin could be thankful to be alive.

#jjba #jjba x reader #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo part 3 #Noriaki Kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin x reader #fluff #angst #kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #reader insert #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jojo stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure stardust crusaders

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setsailslash · 4 years

Note

if you're still accepting prompts for your promptathon! (if not you can 100% ignore this) could you write some good brujay + loss of sight? (whether literal or not, it's up to you!)

for the @brujayweek day 7 prompt: creator’s choice, and settled on loss sight of what’s important for anon :D

Dying is harsh with death in itself harder.

Makes coming back to life so much more gruesome than it needs to be. Leaves a lot to be desired really when his heart gets rearranged in the process even if it still beats for one man and just one man. And desire, well. That’s what got them into trouble the first time around.

It is probably in bad spirit that he makes these jokes at all.

In bad faith, and in some deep dark morbid need to shock, he leaves a trail of Red Hood from the master bedroom door all the way to the edge of the mattress.

This is where Bruce finds Jason, after a long grueling night of patrol: Face pressed between two pillows with his bare ass barely covered, most of the sheets tangled around his ankles while blood sluggishly soaks through the bandages wrapped haphazardly around one thigh in a neat little circle.

It twists something painful inside of Bruce to have Jason in his bed again. Like this, snoring softly.

Bruce falls asleep in the armchair in the corner of the room, wakes up with a crick in his neck and bloody sheets tossed over him.

Bed all empty.

Maybe this is about mourning, Bruce supposes, when the Robin uniform remains streaked in a dead boy’s blood encapsulated in a pristine glass case.

Maybe this is about control, and how he seems to be losing all of it when the boy breathes and yells and bleeds all over a bed they used to share.

Jason disappears from Gotham after that night.

Bruce doesn’t go digging, not because he already knows but because he has long since lost his right to know where Jason goes.

He goes through his routine, he reads through his case files, and when it gets dark, he goes out at night. Stalking the streets streaked in its own shadows, he swings, he dislocates a man’s jaw. He puts himself through the paces of a man waging a war. He also takes apart the handgun hidden in the waistband of the man’s jeans, breaking three of his fingers when he tried to reach for it.

“Do yourself a favour.” Batman growls out over the screaming. “Stay down.”

When Gordon turns on the signal, Bruce makes his way to the station.

It starts with blood.

Like most things that come full circle, it also ends with blood.

When Jason reappears in Gotham, it is in the center of a human trafficking ring.

Held in the basement of one of their transit points, Jason is beaten and bruised, surrounded by five overzealous goons who intend to find out who he is working for even if they need to gut him for the answer. There is still fresh blood dripping from his broken nose, pouring down over his lips and chin. The masochistic streak in him almost whines out loud, sounding like he is begging for it when his head is yanked back by the death grip in his hair.

Cool press of a serrated blade to his throat as one of the bad men leans in too close to murmur another threat.

It looks worse than it is. At least, this time, there aren’t maggots crawling across his skin. Fuck the small miracles if it means a better chance at the bigger ones.

And here might be a big one: A flash bang he doesn’t need to close his eyes to when they had him blindfolded long before they ever even made the plans to drag him inside of this room. It rings, shrill, but he doesn’t need to hear to feel the tiny little give in the thick ropes binding the length of his arms to the back of the chair.

Eyes unseeing, ears unhearing, when the rope falls away, Jason moves.

What Jason doesn’t say is this: Like gum at the sole of his boots, like grass stains on the knees of his nice pants, like opening his eyes to find himself inside of his own grave gasping for air. If Jason gets to say so for himself, he is pretty damn fucking hard to get rid of.

Seems like Bruce is too when he yanks the blindfold down, and all Jason can see is the Bat clearing the room counterclockwise.

It isn’t like he thinks he doesn’t deserve love.

Jason isn’t that masochistic.

Their history, if seen through anything other than some very rose-tinted glasses, goes like this: He meets him at a low point, and manages to drag him even lower. It didn’t feel that way though. As hard to believe as it is, Jason isn’t that far gone either. Even if it does come close on the days when he’s been away from Gotham for too long and all he remembers of the city is every single good thing and none of the bad.

There are a lot of bad.

“Last time I waited for you.”

Jason starts, and he looks like he is daring Bruce to finish the thought: It was a warehouse in Ethiopia. Far enough where his screams never even escaped the room itself. Where it was Hell disguised in powdery white and grease streaked green and the fucking dynamite rigged to explode haven’t even began to count down.

“Last time you didn’t make it, B.”

He stands in the middle of the room, blood drying on his face, one eye starting to swell up.

“Last time—”

“Let me make it up to you.” Batman says over the silence when every last one of the bad men that held Jason in captivity is completely out, lying sprawled on the ground with not even a twitch. “Starting now.”

Jason closes his eyes but he can see it so clearly right this moment. It is no way to keep a relationship on just the basis of one emotion.

Because the need festers like an untreated wound, sepsis fills the whole body, until the only thing he knows in his veins is this love of theirs.

What he says: “Old man, I know you think you’re stuck with me but you’ve got a choice.”

What he means: And it doesn’t have to be me.

Bruce doesn’t draw closer. He doesn’t dare. And it gives Jason a sense of power like nothing before when it is Batman, not Bruce, standing there on the other side of the room. They have been crossing the country and then halfway across the world and then into outer space too in any attempt to shake off this gravity, like it is this place yanking them back. Like it isn’t one another.

What Bruce means: It never had to be you, it just is, I will choose you over and over and all over again even if we have to start from the beginning once more.

Jason is a pull unlike any other, even when he was dead and buried and his real body already stolen from the ground.

What Bruce says: “That’s not a choice I want to make then.”

“No one makes you do anything you don’t want to. Ever.”

Jason has vindication on his side, Bruce has conviction on his.

“That’s right, Jay.”

The same bed with a different set of sheets, Jason’s bloody clothes lead a trail from the window to the edge of the mattress where Bruce lays on his back with Jason straddling over him.

He sighs.

He whines.

He pants for it. Making every kind of loud little noises as he takes himself apart on the thick slide of Bruce’s cock inside of him. He rides Bruce with abandon, beads of sweat trailing down the arch of his spine as he rocks his hips like this is a normal thing. Having Bruce open him up as though he’s always been the only one for him.

“Let me set your nose.”

Bruce breathes out, around the taste of blood when Jason finally pulls back from the sloppy kiss.

Blinking bright wide eyes at him, Jason’s lashes quiver, his hands shake a little too, but most of all, Jason tightens around him like a vice. He seems to crumple as he lets out a choked off little sound, wounded like the pain of his broken nose is coming back to him all at once. His eyes are rimmed in red, his bottom lip wobbles while blood stains his upper lip still. Jason looks like he could cry. But in a good way, Bruce thinks.

Jason accepts but he makes sure Bruce knows that it’s unfair that Bruce offers at all.

“Only so I can blow you later.”

Bruce thought he would be at a loss but it feels natural for his mouth to tug into the smallest hint of a smile. “Okay, Jay.”

“Just okay?” Jason squints at him.

“I look forward to it.” Bruce corrects himself. And it’s like the meaning behind Bruce’s offer is only sinking in now as Jason’s cheeks go pink.

Razed down to the foundation, there is something to be build over top its wreck and its ruins.

They start here, at the beginning, in the aftermath of what follows desolation of their own forced creation.

Jason holds still for all of ten seconds that it takes for Bruce to reset his broken nose, brings the back of his hand up and wipes at the small trickle of fresh blood when he does.

And then he is moving again, dizzying as he feels Bruce beneath him as his thighs bracket the man. He fucks himself down, and his motion only stutters sharply when Bruce slides both hands up along his sides. Stopping just below his ribs, Bruce brushes a thumb along the edge of some deep tissue bruising while the other stays still, steadying.

Turning it deep, turning it slow, as Bruce rolls his hips up to match every downwards shove from Jason.

An anchor to his sails. Reverence is an odd look when it overtakes Bruce’s face. He is a man at odds, five o'clock shadow scratchy beneath Jason’s palms when he reaches out to touch what has always been his, and Bruce leans into it without hesitation.

“Okay?” Bruce asks, kissing Jason’s fingertips.

He is within reach, warm beneath his hands. When Jason finally nods his head to the question being asked, it is unease being soothed out. The very last ember in this long enduring fire they’ve set being put out.

#brujay #brujayweek #brujayweek2020 #bruce wayne #jason todd #dc #kuro's 200 subs promptathon

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misstrashchan · 4 years

Text

The Man With Two Souls, Pt. 2

Okay, so this ended up being a fucking long part 2 to my previous meta post. There was a lot I wanted to get down, and if it doesn't make sense or you don't agree with it, that's fine, I'd just be happy if you read it. Now I can rest until the finale comes and beats me up.

So, there's a few more Salem and Adam parallels to start off with like

(8) Having the same reaction to hearing someone mention Blake and Oz and the possibility of them getting the upper hand against them

(9) Chronologically after this happens (we see Adam destroy the throne room in Volume 6 episode 2, but we see him lose his mask at the end of the Adam trailer) deciding to go after Blake on his own while Salem creates the winged Beringel grimm and plans to go to Atlas herself, presumably to go after Oscar/Ozpin so he doesn't get in the way of her plans (as well as Ruby since she clearly needs her as well)

"If you want something done right, you do it yourself" - Volume 6 Chapter 13

(10) Adam and Salem telling Blake and Oz about how they're going to destroy them and those around them

"The ability to derive strength from hope is undoubtedly mankind's greatest attribute. Which is why I will focus all of my effort to snuff it out. How does it feel? Knowing that all your time and effort has been for nothing. That your guardians have failed you. That everything you've built will be torn down before your very eyes."

"So you send your guardians, your huntsman and huntresses. And when they fail and you turn to your smaller soul, know that you send her to the same pitiful demise. This is the beginning of the end, Ozpin. And I can't wait to watch you burn." - Salem, Volume 3 Chapter 12

"What you want is impossible! But I understand. Because all I want is you, Blake. And as I set out and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves, I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love. Starting with her." - Adam, Volume 3 Chapter 11

(11) Salem and Adam's perception of Oz and Blake affecting their perspective of themselves... and the audience.

Okay, this one's honestly kind of weird. For so, so long there were a lot of people who bought into the idea that Ozpin was secretly evil or somehow worse than Salem, or that he'd done something terrible and unforgivable to Salem. I fully admit, I was one of those people. I mean, I didn't think he was evil, but the way Salem talked to him at the end of volume 3, listening to the song Divide, I thought, he must have done something bad to Salem, right? How could she hate him so much otherwise?

And the worst thing he did... was leave her. When he couldn't go along with being a genocidal dictator of the whole world alongside Salem, and didn't want their children to be a part of that either.

And as for Adam, he tells Blake that she hurt him more than anybody because she left him.

"All sorts of people hurt me in all sorts of different ways. But no one hurt me quite like you, Blake. You didn't leave scars. You just left me alone." - Adam, Volume 6 Chapter 12

And Salem would also have been hurt from Ozma trying to leave her. Especially when you think about her backstory, how she was kept isolated in a tower, and instead of finding freedom in the outside world, found it in Ozma. And then he died, and she was alone again. And then the Gods destroyed humanity, and Salem is left alone one again for god knows how long.

"Once again, Salem was alone." - Volume 6 Chapter 3

And weirdly, similar to Ozpin there were people who bought into Adam's false perception of Blake too. That Blake is somehow the one who hurt Adam more than he hurt her (which is, completely insane).

And Salem and Adam want Oz and Blake to feel that way. To be paralyzed with self hatred and doubt, to be stuck in the past, and feel as if everything is their fault. That Salem and Adam are their responsibility, at first to save them, and then to stop them.

You see it with Adam's gaslighting, trying to paint her as an unfaithful coward. And I mean, just listen to the song Divide. The whole song is Salem trying to make out Ozpin to be the villain, that she's killing people but the real murderer is him for trying to give people hope, even if it was hope based on a desperate lie.

"It was you who ended their lives! Made them to dig their own graves! With your dark, sick, cruel design, convinced them their world could be saved." - Divide

And there were a lot of people convinced by Salem's song Divide that Ozpin was far worse than he really was, to the point it was surprising that he hadn't wronged Salem in some way like most people were expecting.

And Adam tries to make Blake believe that she's a coward, that she's selfish and weak, that running away from her problems is all she knows how to do.

And for a long while, Blake believed he was right. That she was toxic to the people around her, that she made things worse for them. And there were some people in the fandom who thought that she really was this toxic person.

It's actually kind of scary, but Salem and Adam managed to manipulate not only Blake and Oz's perception of themselves, but also the audience as well in how they saw them.

I don't doubt for a moment this is going to extend to Oscar as well if she meets him, that she'll likely try to convince him that he's just Ozpin and that he, Oscar, doesn't matter, and he'll fail and make the same mistakes as their past lives. Which undoubtedly parts of the fandom are going to take Salem's false perception of Oscar to heart as well and believe her.

Which brings me to move on from Blake's parallels with her first "soul" and Ozpin, to her second "soul" and Oscar.

Now Blake alluding to the Man with Two Souls is metaphorical, while in Oscar's case it's very literal, and it's no coincidence she's the one who first introduces us to the concept to us with the book she's reading during the Shining Beacon.

"...It's about a man with two souls. Each fighting for control over his body"

(It's important to note that the conflict between the two souls is not one of Good vs Evil)

Blake's conflict of her two metaphorical souls fighting for control, is the false perception Adam had of Blake and who she used to be with him, her past that she can't escape, and the struggle for her smaller, more honest soul, trying to define herself and decide who she wants to be. And for Oscar, he's struggling to define himself and decide who he wants to be, because of the merge with Ozpin, and that his past will become Oscar's too.

Both of them want to do the right thing and rise to their challenges, but it seems like such an impossible task to them that they're afraid to meet it.

"I'm... scared. I'm more scared than I've ever been. Than I ever thought was possible. I always knew I wanted to be more than a farmhand. But this? Who would ask for this?" - Oscar, Volume 5 Chapter 5

"I joined the Academy because I knew that Huntsman and Huntresses were regarded as the most noble warriors in the world. Always fighting for good. But I never really thought past that. When I leave the Academy what will I... How can I undo so many years of hate?" - Blake, Volume 2, Chapter 10

But the person who sees Blake's "other soul" the person she's truly capable of being, who she really is, even when she can't herself, is Yang.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're not one to back down from a challenge Blake." - Yang, Volume 2 Chapter 10

And the one who sees Oscar and who he's capable of being even when he can't himself, is Ruby.

"Hey Oscar? I know this isn't going to be easy. But the fact that you're trying says a lot about you. You're braver than you think." - Ruby, Volume 5 Chapter 5

Blake and Oscar are also the first people we see Yang and Ruby open up to about their past trauma. The difference between the two being that in the Burning the Candle scene Yang is more willing to be vulnerable around Blake, to let her guard down and open up to her about her abandonment issues and how they've affected her.

Because as a more emotionally mature character she understands she needs to do that in order to properly relate to Blake so she can offer her support. She gets frustrated however when Blake still refuses her support, and so she has to give her a push to accept it.

Ruby, however, isn't as emotionally mature as Yang, and doesn't find it easy to let down her guard and talk about her emotions. Her mentality being described as "I don't have time for my emotions, I've got to make sure everybody else is okay" - RWBY Rewind: Ruby Rose Rewinds With Us

She feels like she constantly needs to be a pillar of strength and support for everyone around her as a leader. She has a hard time opening up about her own feelings and being vulnerable around others. For her, it seems much more natural to internalize those feelings rather than face them head on. As a leader, she feels she isn't supposed to show fear or doubt. If she admits how she's hurting or how scared she is, she'd be afraid of those around her losing faith.

Ironically, it's Ozpin's words of advice to her that enforce this mentality

"But if you aren't constantly performing at your best, what reason do you give others to follow you?"

So even though only a minute ago Oscar saw that Ruby was clearly upset over something (being reminded of Penny's death)

Ruby then goes on to act like nothing's wrong when she then attempts to reassure Oscar. And it feels like a performance, and though Ruby genuinely does want to reassure him, it comes across as insincere to him. He's frustrated because Ruby isn't being honest about how she's feeling, and is only concerned with his feelings.

So in the Dojo scene we have Oscar start to push Ruby past that flawed mentality that Ozpin enforced, to be more honest about how she's feeling, to talk about how the Fall of Beacon and the loss of Phyrra and Penny affected her, how she's afraid of Salem killing people she cares about, and that she'd kill anyone regardless.

And with both Ruby and Yang opening up about their past experiences they can relate to Blake and Oscar's own fears, doubts and insecurities. Blake's need for answers and Oscar's fear of the fight with Salem, and Yang's need for answers and Ruby's fear of the fight with Salem.

"I told you! I'm not telling you to stop! I haven't. To this day I still want to know what happened to my mother and why she left me. But I will never let that search control me. We're going to find the answers we're looking for Blake. But if we destroy ourselves in the process what good are we?" - Yang, Volume 2 Chapter 6

"I am scared! But not just for me. What happened at Beacon shows that Salem doesn't care if you're standing against her or not. She'll kill anybody. And that, scares me most of all. Phyrra... Penny... I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. That I didn't think about them every day since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too. No matter how dangerous it was. So that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forward." - Ruby, Volume 5 Chapter 5

And by demonstrating their own resolve, as well as their belief in the kind of people Blake and Oscar are capable of being that inspires them to be that person.

"I'm. Not. Running."

"You. Will." - Blake and Adam, Volume 3 Chapter 11

"She made a choice. To put others before herself. And so do I."

"Then you've chosen death." - Oscar and Hazel, Volume 5 Chapter 12

There's also Blake expressing her doubt in Yang during volume 3 after she attacked Mecury, causing Yang to question her own judgement.

She compares it to how Adam used to attack people, and of course she knows Yang wouldn't do something like that without good reason, but she can't but feel like the situation is very familiar. And Blake knows Yang isn't Adam, and makes it clear that she's decided to trust Yang.

"I want to trust you. I will trust you." - Volume 3 Chapter 8

But despite that, Blake's words do still weigh on her mind even when she's alone, where Qrow comes to talk to her about what happened and reassure her, and then they end up talking about her mum.

And then with Ruby in volume 7, Oscar expresses his doubt in Ruby in her decision to lie and hide the truth from Ironwood, comparing it to how Ozpin did the same to them, which, similar to Yang, causes Ruby to question her own judgement. And obviously he knows Ruby isn't Ozpin, that she probably had a good reason for lying. But again, the situation just feels so familiar.

But ultimately he decides to put his trust in Ruby, even before Ironwood.

"I do believe in you. But not only you." - Volume 7 Chapter 7

And by episode 9 they're both on the same page in deciding to choose the truth over fear. (if only James could have stayed on that page too)

Similarly to Yang, we see Ruby alone in episode 4 of volume 7, and you can tell Oscar's words are still weighing on her mind, as Qrow comes over to talk to her and she asks him if she is like Ozpin, and he reassures her that she's not, and then they end up talking about her mother.

Okay, so I'm going to go out on a limb here, and you can call me out on my bullshit if you like, but I'm making a prediction (like, 12 hours from the finale, but hey, it might happen later in the series for all I know)

If we're going full in on the parallels here, remember how Yang lost an arm trying to protect Blake from Adam, and afterwards Blake ends up leaving Yang like Raven, believing she'd be better off without her?

And how Salem is on her way to Atlas after hearing Ozpin had reincarnated, the foreshadowing for Ruby losing an eye and them bringing up her trauma around Summer in Chapter 11?

On top of her wanting Ruby alive?

I'm gonna guess Ruby loses an eye trying to protect Oscar, and then afterwards either Oscar or Ruby tries to sacrifice and give themselves up to Salem, except it ends up being a hollow sacrifice like Summer's

"I didn't have a choice I did what I had to do I made a sacrifice but forced a bigger sacrifice on you!" - Red like Roses Part 2

Because Salem would end up taking both of them either way. I actually can't imagine a scenario where she doesn't, because she needs both of them. But one of them has a worse fate, a "bigger sacrifice" in store for them when they reach Evernight (which I'm still thinking is Ruby)

#rwby #ozpin #oscar pine #yang xiao long #ruby rose #salem #blake belladona #adam taurus #trash meta #thank FUCK I can finally sleep #thanks to anyone who read this to the end #I don't think I'm any good at this but it feels good to just waffle sometimes

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thedyingmoon · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe where you get to play a game of hide and seek with V. 🖤

~ This part is dedicated to all my new followers. I couldn't mention all of you, you know who you are. Thank you very much! 🖤

~ Psst, @acieoj , a new part for you to stay awake for. 🖤

~ I couldn't thank you enough for all the likes and reblogs, @heaven-on-a-landslide . Thank you so much! 🖤

~ That's my game screenshot. Aww, V looks so cute drinking whatever energy drink that is. 🖤

***

You wearily looked at the three boxes of pizza on the glass top table in front of you, one being almost empty, courtesy of Nero. Then, you looked at Nico, who settled on the sofa across you, legs apart and one elbow on a knee.

"Dinner?" Nico offered, getting a slice herself.

You shook your head.

"I'm not having any of that." Your friend for ten years retorted, picking a slice and forcefully handing it to you. "Eat!"

You two have always been like this, you refusing food and the freckled girl always shoving them your way, anyway.

The moment you woke up in their home ten years ago, you were aware that you were so close to dying due to starvation. But, due to the strict orders of those scumbags who abducted you, you were taught to avoid temptations like hunger. Of course, upon realizing how malnourished you looked, Nico and her mother practically forced you to eat, telling you to not die on them. And on the following days after that, you were fed all sorts of home - cooked meals, thanks to Nico's mother, that slowly improved your impoverished state.

You took a little bite off the pizza, slightly wincing on its spicy taste, then threw all kinds of pretense out of the window and took a box for yourself, digging in and giving in to your hunger.

"So, what you mean to say," Nico began, her mouth half - full of her food. "... is that V is who you are looking for all these past ten years?"

You nodded, unable to answer with a full mouth.

"How could you even tell? I mean, you told me that the man in your visions had white hair."

It's true. After the events that took place in that cursed castle, the entity has been giving you little visions of the future. Sometimes, it's just trivial things, like predicting Nico's results in her exams as a student, the weather for the next week, and visitors.

But, one prominent thing that the entity was always showing you was the vision of a white - haired man playing the violin. And what's more, the entity would sometimes speak to you in your head, subtly whispering stuff like,

"You must find him."

And

"You must go to him."

However, just a year ago, the entity gave you vague and horrifying warnings about this man, telling you all of a sudden to,

"Protect him at all cost."

"Save him from his death."

And

"Fulfill the wish."

Especially the second and last warning. Despite the vision staying the same for ten years, the warnings were getting more and more drastic that it simply could no longer be ignored. You had no idea how to "fulfill the wish", but you were very certain that the entity would show you how when the time comes.

Which led you to the events that were beginning to unfold right before you.

"Dude with white hair,..." Nico mumbled. "If it is Dante, then I would understand. But, V?"

"I told you." You replied. "I felt it the moment I saw him in the park earlier this afternoon. That,... feeling I didn't have when I met Dante." You took your third helping of the pizza and looked at Nico gravely in the eye. "But, this man. I could feel it, Nico. It's him. I must fulfill the entity's wish, and I won't rest until I do."

"Alright, alright, honey, you've made your point." Nico leaned on the comfortable sofa and crossed her legs. "So, you sure you're going?"

"Yes."

"Very well." Nico stood and went to one of the rooms. When she came back, she was carrying a large, white box. She placed it down on the floor, considering it was too big to place on the table, and carefully opened it, revealing its contents.

Your eyes widened in delight and surprise at such wonder. "It's so breathtaking!" You admired the object inside the box.

Nico smiled at you and lightly punched your shoulder. "You have to look your best this Saturday."

You gently took the glistening fabric, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world, and frowned.

"Aww, don't tell me you don't like it!"

You glanced at Nico and held the thing closer to you. "No, it's not like that. I just couldn't believe that I'm finally going to meet him."

"Well, if you're that excited, why didn't you just introduce yourself earlier like a normal human being?" Nico had a point.

"I'm scared." You answered, and it was the truth. You did find V very intimidating, especially that time when he just transported right above you earlier in the park. "What if I screw this up? How can I be able to protect him if I'm like this? You saw him and how powerful he is! He's got some,... pets with him,..."

Nico's eyebrows furrowed. She knew you were very shy and that you needed the proper motivation for you to keep moving forward.

She stood up and went back to the sofa to eat pizza. "I was wondering. You, a weak girl without the help of your entity, trained to be a good fighter against Demons, bugged me to death a thousand times for a weapon of your own, and even deliberately blackmailed Dante into letting you join Devil May Cry, all because of this funny mission your entity gave you." She leaned in to get a closer look at you and eyed you very seriously. "What is your motivation? And don't ya dare keep your mouth shut because ya haven't told me a single shit about it. Spill the beans, honey."

You sighed, no longer able to think of some clever way out of this. You put the fabric down and joined Nico at the sofa.

"That vision with the white - haired man, that was not the only thing I saw." You took Nico's right hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Beyond that, I saw something else."

"What is it?"

You looked at Nico and slightly shook your head, brows furrowed at the thought. "It wasn't quite clear to me yet, but I saw myself with this man. And there was a child."

Nico's eyes widened, her mouth forming an O. "Is that your future baby, then?"

"I'm not sure. I told you, it wasn't quite clear. And then, I saw a house, an afternoon picnic, him playing the violin again, and,..."

"And - ?" Nico was fully anticipating the next thing you would say, when you suddenly squeezed her hand too tight with all your might, hurting her. "Ouch! Hey, watch it!" She withdrew her hand from you, rubbing it and hoping for the pain to go away. She was about to scold you for it when she saw you becoming red from forehead to chest. "Aha! You saw something lewd, did ya?!"

"NO!" you screamed at her face, your blush deepening even further, and knowing that she will not believe you because of it. "Anyway, the point is: I finally have a chance to build something I lost when I was a child. A lovely house, afternoon picnics, a family to call my own! Nico, this is it! My dream of a perfect family, and the entity has led me right into it!"

"You really should have introduced yourself to V." Nico muttered, shaking her head and frowning. "You might get along pretty well,..."

"That's not how it works, Nico. To have that, I must fulfill the entity's wish to protect him and save him from his death. The vision will not come true unless I follow the entity's conditions!"

"So, you mean to say, V's gonna die,... unless you do something about it? Is that right?"

You almost lost your nerve after building it up with a dream of a perfect home a while ago. "Yes, you could say that."

"So, that's why you trained to be strong."

"Yes."

"But, that doesn't explain why you have to work for Dante."

"Remember what you said earlier about Dante and perfectly understanding it if it was really him in my vision?" You said, taking Nico's hand and squeezing it again. "Well, I thought so, too, believe me. But, I was wrong. The vision is a man who looked like him, but not him!"

"You - " Nico began, then stopped, processing everything she just heard from you. "How could the man in your vision look like Dante and not V? How could it NOT be Dante and how could it BE V? Honey, that's so confusing! Unless, he's hiding a twin brother somewhere, which V clearly is not,..."

"Yes, I know that." For the second time, you squeezed Nico's hand way too hard for the woman to take.

"Ouch!" Nico shrieked, once again withdrawing her hand and keeping it firmly close to her.

"Sorry. It's just that - I felt a connection to Dante and to the man in the vision. Like, something very powerful was linking the two. And now that I've seen this V person, I became certain of it. He also holds a deep connection to Dante." You went closer to Nico, your hands on the sofa. "The decision I made about working in the Devil May Cry was not far off, actually. And I' am glad for that," you took something from your pocket and showed the same black envelope containing the details of the event for the coming Saturday. "... and for this."

"Whatever you say, honey." Nico said, but before she could even stand, you two both heard noises coming from outside the unit. "They're back already? Hey!"

Nico called after you, but you were too fast. You were already outside the door to your room, carrying the large, white box, and smiling at her.

"Good night!" You gleefully mouthed, opening the room, entering it, and finally retiring for the night.

And at the same time Nico heard the lock to your door click, Nero opened the front door and let V and himself in.

Right then and there, V was very positive - he knew you've been there, the one who almost "chopped him like onions", as per Griffon, and the one who yelped behind the window. In fact, he could sense your presence all over the place, especially behind that one particular door. After all, he could still smell you. What was that again? Oh. Fresh flowers blooming in the morning.

"Hey, this box is almost empty!" Nero said, mystified as to how an unopened box of pizza got almost ravaged by a lone woman during his absence of only thirty minutes.

But, V perfectly knew that Nico was not the only one who ate. And it was totally confirmed by the woman, herself.

"Well, sorry about that. (Y/N) was really hungry." She admitted.

"You mean the owner of this unit?" Nero asked, opening the third box and dedicating to finish it himself. "Where is she, anyway? Why won't she show herself? She got fangs, bumps, or something?"

"My thoughts,... exactly." V added, letting Griffon and Shadow out with a simple smile that could actually be considered as sinister. Someone wants to play hide and seek with him, so he would play the game, as well, and with much enthusiasm.

Nico laughed at what Nero said. "She doesn't have fangs, but she does have a bump or two, you know what I'm sayin'. She's probably asleep by now. Don't mind her." Nico answered. "She's just tired as hell. You'll see her in the morning."

And, so he must. For if you don't show yourself by then, heaven and hell help V, but he would definitely find a way to meet you and go after you, just like what Griffon initially suggested. In a space of thirty minutes while he and Nero were away in search of formal clothing, he may have found out one of the reasons the Yamato brought him closer to you. And if you avoid him once more, he would have no choice but to spam the Yamato on you if he must as a last resort.

***

🖤🖤🖤

#devil may cry 5 #amwriting #v #v x reader #v x you #i see my future before me #chapter 5 #nico #nero #you #fanfiction #work in progress

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badbhye · 6 years

Text

boyfriend yoongi! drabble

“Taehyung can you hold on one sec- FUCK,” you yelp as you trip over your sheer stockings, you're late you know this but your work requires time, you can't make an appearance until you've went over your ensemble at least four times to make sure nothing is out of place. Instead of tending to your slightly aching forehead, you check to see if your precious stockings haven't gotten a snag in the threads, you did wait a whole month to get them after all. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, for the fifth time, you pat down a stray hair and smile, it’s perfect.

The knocking that had caused your fall continues and you groan, Taehyung technically wasn’t supposed to show up for another twenty minutes. The two of you had agreed to leave at 12pm, which in Taehyung time gave you another half hour, at least. If you were somewhat a perfectionist with your outfits, he was ten times worse.

“I’m here, I’m here, you can stop now, Taehyung,” you shout as you make your way to the front door. “If I get another complaint from my landlord about the noise level, I’m mooching off of you for th-” you pause out of shock. Because it isn't your hyperactive, loud best friend on the other side of the door, it's Yoongi. Min Yoongi your boyfriend of the past 3 months staring at you with an equally shocked expression marring his face.

He opens his mouth to speak after he’s eyed your figure about three times while you're slowly digging your own grave.

“___,” he says, eyes trailing the length of your body once more, “what the fuck are you wearing?”

It was too good to be true. Three months, three months you had spent in this relationship, the best relationship you had been in to date. You didn’t date around a lot in high school but when you reached your third year in college you met Min Yoongi, recently graduated and a TA for the music elective you had taken because you may or may have not forgotten to register for your classes on time and this was the only option left. You and Yoongi immediately hit it off when one day you showed up for class when it had ultimately been cancelled and he somehow, regardless of being the TA, had made the same mistake. Instead of leaving immediately and jumping into your bed for the rest of the day, because obviously this class was on the day you had no other classes, you took a seat and had a nice time talking to Yoongi instead. Idle chatter soon turned into friendship because you and Yoongi got along well, too well. You would talk about a whole lot of nothing and have the time of your life and soon enough, your friendship blossomed into something even better. The relationship was gradual, full of shied glances, half holding and long walks, you couldn’t believe someone as intimidating as Yoongi could be so… soft. The past three months were everything you had wanted in a relationship. It was perfect, too perfect, and you should have known better. You finally had gotten your dream guy in your grasp and it had all fallen apart because of a couple of knocks. Things never work out for you, for people like you.

“Y-yoongi!” you beam, eyes still panicked, “I didn’t know you were coming over!” your knuckles white against the door, holding it firm as to protect whatever’s left of your dignity.

“Yeah, you told me you were sick, and weren't answering my calls so I thought I’d come over to check how you were doing,” he says while holding up a bag of cold medicine.

You don't know if you want to clutch your chest and cry about how thoughtful and caring your boyfriend is or just cry because of how humiliating this entire ordeal is to you.

“H-how thoughtful,” you stammer as he pushes his way past you, your iron grip slipping and in a blink of an eye, Yoongi is standing in front of you inside your apartment.

“So,” he says after an uncomfortable pause, “you don't seem sick,”

“Yeah,” you try to laugh but it sounds more like a forced cough, “miraculous recovery, I’ve never felt better.”

Yoongi grunts, eyes trailing over you for what’s probably the hundredth time and you want nothing more than to seek shelter in your bedroom, away from all judgment. The two of you stand in silence, you wanting to silently rip your hair out and Yoongi looking as impassive as ever. Yoongi’s mouth opens as he begins to say something to you, probably end the relationship right then and there but is interrupted when a heaving Taehyung comes into view “___! I’M HERE I’M HERE YOU BETTER NOT HAVE LEFT WITHOUT ME!”

He holds onto the handle of your door, doubled over and breathing heavy, as if he ran all the way to your apartment and not from the elevator that’s just down the hall. His eyes widen once he notices Yoongi standing in your hallway, but to your surprise Yoongi isn't as shocked at Taehyung’s ensemble as he was to yours. Taehyung, in comparison to you, would go all out. He had filled out a custom order just for his outfit today; a pastel pink silk jacket with green detailing and white pants to match. He had even grown out his hair to a shoulder length and bleached it out and was decked in blue contact lenses to match. He truly took cosplay to a whole other level, it was like you were staring at a real life Howl the Wizard.

“Hyung!” Taehyung’s grinning, “what are you doing here?”

Yoongi shrugs, “just came to hang out, but you two seem busy.”

Yoongi looks much too relaxed and somehow that worries you even more.

“Wait!” you say, a little too loud, “You aren’t freaked out?” you point an accusatory gloved finger at your boyfriend.

Yoongi looks back at you, and shrugs again, “Why would I be, I’m more disappointed that you didn't tell me you liked to dress up.”

“Cosplay, hyung” Taehyung whines from the doorway.

You pause. “So…you don't think it's weird or gross?” your voice uncharacteristically small.

“Why would I think it's weird or gross?” he says, face serious, “if it makes you happy why should I be anything but supportive?”

You want to cry, and you feel like you're about to do exactly that and ruin the makeup you had spent the last two hours on. Before a single tear can shed you hastily wrap your arms around Yoongi and give him the tightest squeeze you can muster. He chuckles, chin settling on your shoulder and he sighs, “so, Sailor Moon, huh?”

He is immediately shoved back. “It’s Sailor Venus.”

A/N: this may or may not be the worst thing i’ve spit up but i really couldn’t help myself. as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts on this! n please ignore any errors i’m terribly sleep deprived and sacrificing my sleep for shit like this

#yoongi scenario #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #suga fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #bts #bts scenarios #bts scenario

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