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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

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i know places // finnick odair x f.reader

request: Hiii, for the celebration could you do a soulmate au with Finnnick? Maybe after reader has won her games? Fluff pls but I don't mind some angst sprinkled in too. Thank you and I love your writing <3

masterlist

3k words

warnings: soulmate au, matching scars, closed off and guarded!reader, nearly instant love, attempted fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive behavior, trust issues, lovesick finnick, cocky finnick, unreliable narrator reader, unedited, no use of y/n, no sight of a slowburn anywhere, mentions of blood/violence/death

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You didn't win with your charm. Before the games there was no popularity because of your interview with Caesar, the only semblance of any likeability was from your somewhat impressive training score, a 10. Regardless of what Panem wanted, your survival skills had come into clutch and brought you straight to the crown. A rare underdog winning the games. According to your mentor though the press had begun spinning you as meek when they'd realized you were in the top eight. You hadn't been the only tribute who tried it lone wolf and it conflicted with another story, so you were instead supposed to be quiet, gentle, and that's why you kept to yourself. Not because your district partner had attacked you night two, after claiming he would take watch, only for you to overtake him instead.

So now, post your victory they expected you to lean into the role, which didn't come naturally. Not when all you wanted to do was stop performing, scrub off your skin which still carried the weight of dirt and blood even if you'd taken plenty of showers since your return, and under the warm blankets of your bed. Maybe if you didn't feel so guilty and numb it would be easier to play at, but now everyone wanted a piece of you. You'd much rather they get bored of you.

Instead you'd been dragged out to a Capitol celebration before your return back home. The interview, the crowning, apparently hadn't been enough because no matter how they tried to make you seem, you were too guarded for them to get a good read on who you were. You didn't want them to know who you were, they'd already stolen you from your home, dolled you up, and forced you to fight to survive against the other dolls. Leaving your hands forever bloodstained and the screams ringing in your ears. Yet the dollhouse had not burned down when the cannon went off, they'd just deadbolted the doors. Who knew what other demented games they'd force you to play if they were given a chance to see inside your brain. So the walls stayed firmly up as you planted yourself firmly in a nook somewhere and the bustling of the party.

The dress was itchy, the shoes pinched at your feet, the way they'd styled your hair had every nerve on your scalp screaming for freedom, and the drink smelt too sickly sweet for one to even fathom sipping on. People would be looking to hound you, to find a reaction, and hopefully you could just disappear into the brick. Although fate seemed to have other plans.

“Mind if I join you?" You looked up, dreading having to talk to someone. What would you even say without revealing too much? Then of course you hadn't expected it to be the Capitol darling, Finnick Odair, himself.

He was an attention grabber. Too beloved, too shiny, wherever he went the moths were soon to follow. Which was the last thing you needed, curse Finnick Odair if he brought attention to you. “Yes, I do mind." ‘Leave. Let me see how long I can sit here until anyone approaches, let them be distracted by the wealth around them so they leave me be.’ Your brain, foot tapping the cobblestone.

He laughed, that swoon worthy smirk taking over his face. Warmth, an inviting aura radiated off of him, but you despised it at this moment. The audacity he had felt unmatched when he slid into the nook anyways. You'd met him less then a minute away and he was already being nothing less than cockily malicious. Although you shouldn't have been surprised, that's how people described him. Maybe the worst part was that some deep part of you said that it was okay, that it was right. Which was a ridiculous thought, it had barely been anytime at all.

“Do you scowl like that whenever people try to talk to you, honey?" Finnick took a bite out of whatever pastry he was holding, something extravagant, brushed with flakes of gold. He held it out, “You should try it, it's sweet like you're supposed to be."

You said nothing, if he was going to insist on being here then you certainly weren't going to reward his efforts. No, you weren't going to even look at him, your arms crossed as you kept tapping your foot. He'd get bored of you and leave eventually, if what they said was true he was bound to find someone sparklier to play with. Even if some part of you would've been okay being his shiny new toy, no that was ridiculous, however you could make the allowance that everyone had hormones so it was only natural to be feeling like this. Of course he'd be this way, the man who supposedly had no soulmate, who could play with as many hearts as he wanted because in the end there apparently was no one out there for him. What a sad existence. Thinking about it almost made you feel bad for him, but you couldn't feel that much pity when he was so close to leading the vultures right to you.

“They're gonna find you eventually, you can't hide out here forever." He was terrible, insufferable. You glowered at him and his smirk widened. “There's no point in being miserable when they're going to do this until the next games. Might as well make the most of it.” Then like he had the right to be the most entitled man in the world took the glass right out of your hand and took a drink. You hated it here, hated how people acted, that you had no one, and most of all hated the way it made you feel. Like he was the only person you should've ever paid attention to. “Didn't seem like you were gonna drink it, you can still have some if you change your mind." You didn't make a move to grab the glass, “Didn't think so." Damn him and his attitude, and his perfect teeth, and the way it made your soul feel fulfilled for some odd reason. Which was nothing less than outrageous since all he'd done in the past couple minutes was drive you up the wall. Then the voices of chatter outside got louder, ‘Shit, shit shit,’ you thought. His magnetism was going to guide them straight to you. He could seemingly tell that this put you on edge because he put a single finger on his lips, a ‘shhh.’ This only served to irk you more, of course you knew to be quiet, this was his fault.

Soon enough the voices began fading again and you were ever so grateful. “Get out." You muttered, burrowing yourself further into the corner.

“This is where I usually take my breathers, not my fault you found it too." He shrugged. How a person managed to look so perfect you'd never know and didn't want to if it made them act like him.

“You've taken more than enough breaths, so you can go now."

"Honey, being a victor is all about who you know. You need good connections or your reputation will eat you alive.”

You glared,"I'll make good connections when they finally find me, but not right now.”

He looked at you with pity, you despised that he felt the right to pity you, but it felt so nice for someone to finally look at you like you weren't in need of congratulations."It takes most of us a couple months to start hating the attention, the realization hit you quicker didn't it?” There was no way he expected you to open up to him, yes you wanted to, but you couldn't. Nobody could be trusted, that was the first lesson the arena really taught you. “Being standoffish isn't going to stop them, it'll only make them see you as a problem victor, and I promise you that's the last thing you want."

Your voice unintentionally softened,"What do you want?”

"To make sure you're gonna be okay, everyone needs someone backing their side in this arena.” This arena. A different, more social one, because you'd never be able to escape. For someone who ticked you off in every sense within a minute, just as fast he'd begun chipping away at your walls.

"You don't want to back my side.”

"Yeah, I do.” Your face was still stony, even if you felt like your stomach was less anxious about being caught and more butterflies. Of course the first man who gave you attention would make you nearly lose resolve. No, he had to want something, be playing some game.

"No one wants to bet on the losing dog.”

"Good thing you're not losing, honey. And believe it or not, maybe there's just something about you.”

"You don't know me.”

"I know and that's what's weird about it.” There was a crease forming on his furrowed brow. “Come on, you should go make an appearance."

There was no way to step back, but you tried. Heel pushing out of the shoe, but you made no move to push it back in. You were too defensive, as long as you could hide you would. “No." You shook your head.

He sighed, “You don't even have to be you, make up a persona, but you have to do something or things will get worse." No, you couldn't bear to let people peer into you, it was terrible that Finnick was even getting a taste of it. You'd only make them hate you more anyways, they'd only grow to realize it would've been better to have anyone but you. “I'll go with you, take the attention off." Maybe that would work, but then what might people think? That you were the type of person easily won over by charming looks and cocky smirks, maybe you were, but that wasn't the point.

However, you did let yourself contemplate it. You couldn't reasonably hide here all night, and his charisma could make up for what you lacked. Plus, even if you hated to admit it, if there was anyone you'd want to stick by you, to tell you everything would be alright, it would be him. It didn't make sense why you felt this way and you almost felt guilty for how crazy it made you sound. It was a miracle he even wanted to stick around when you were being so bitchy, but he was an ass, so it must have evened out.

“I don't need you to stick around me." You lied through your teeth, it was better than making him think that reliance was a vulnerability of yours. Even if it was. Even if it looked like he had the kind of arms you could cry into, you hadn't cried yet, but this was all so overwhelming it felt like you might.

Finnick looked a little wounded, but there was more pity. Like he knew you were biting to try and keep yourself safe, like you were still in survival mode. “I get it, if you change your mind, just look my way." Yet he stood still like he was waiting for you to move first, making sure you didn't just hide away the whole night. Which you would've, if it could become part of the wall you'd thank it for the opportunity. You stared back until finally the tension of the silence became so palpable that you forced yourself to move. Rather unceremoniously as you'd forgotten the way your heel was still sticking out of the shoe and tumbled right out of the rest of it.

“Fuck!" You quietly exclaimed and Finnick was quick to assist you. You wished he hadn't because the moment he touched you it was as if rays of sunlight were buzzing through your veins, like your soul was ascending.

“Oh, I got you!"

“I'm fine." You pushed him off, so the feeling would stop. It was awful, it was weird, there was no plausible reason you should feel like this. Unless…no that was ridiculous.

“Sorry." But sorry didn't make up for the residual waves of electricity, or the way your heart pounded. Or how terrible it was that you wanted to feel it again. "Here let me get your shoe.” Then his nice dress pants were on the dirty cobblestone and you felt bad thinking about how they could get ruined.

"It's okay-” But then he was pausing at your foot, and the sunlight in your blood was back even stronger as his fingers began tracing something on your foot.

"What's that?”

You tried to pull your foot away but his fingertips chased after it, "It's nothing, just the stupid soulmate scar." It wasn't stupid, never had been to you, but it was better to protect your feelings. Finnick laughed, “What?" You asked, finally pulling your foot completely away.

“Oh my god, I'm an idiot. Of course I wanted to talk to you." He kept laughing and then was abruptly pulling off his shoe.

“What are you doing?" He didn't respond as he finally pried the shoe off and the sock.

“Look, they're the same. Oh my god, I found you!" His laughter was certain to alert someone with the way it carried with the breeze, it should've annoyed you more than it did, but it was like music when it passed through your ears.

“What're you talking about?" He playfully rolled his eyes and then his hand was pulling you down on the ground with him. And despite the dirt that would get on your dress, the electric sunshine felt too good to pull away. So you sat in the pile of your dress on the ground and let him guide your feet together.

“Look at that, honey. Look at that." You would've asked what he wanted you to look at, but it quickly became obvious. Two scars, in the same place, the same size, you shared that scar with Finnick Odair. He, the Finnick Odair, who you'd just met and had already pushed you through an array of emotions, was your soulmate. The part of you that had been gnawing in the back of your brain was celebrating in ‘I told you so’s.’

“Oh.” You traced over them slowly, trying to let it sink in. Suddenly you had a soulmate, well you always had, but he was right there. Suddenly things would be alright, and maybe the universe wanted to spite you because you'd always imagined that was the person you'd finally have to open up to. Here he was, the man you'd been actively pushing away the help of.

"Is that a good, oh?” He asked and you felt bad for how you could feel a slight worry in his voice.

"I thought you didn't-”

"I lied, the nick on my foot was from swimming, and it helped the people who wanted to fawn over me. Almost convinced myself it was true though, but here you are.”

"What're you trying to do here?” You couldn't trust him, even if it felt right, even if he made your heart swell. No, this wasn't right, you were just you, and he was Finnick Odair.

Now though it was as if he could read you like a book, like all your guarded insecurities were on a display. It was a horrendous and gratifying experience to be known, to be perceived. "I'm not trying to do anything, honey, we're just meant to be. Not playing at anything, promise." So you sat there in the pile of fabric on the floor, cold stone giving you goosebumps as you stared at him. This was it, there was no need to be cautious because it was meant to be. Why would someone betray their own soulmate? He definitely didn't seem like the type.

“Okay." You finally exhaled and he smiled so wide that it made it worth it. Your walls have been somewhat successfully picked at because you let him embrace you. In fact, you let yourself relax in his arms.

“You're real, you're really real." He held you like you might slip away in a dream. “So pretty, so smart, and real!" He buried his head in your shoulder. It felt good to let someone care about you like this and it made you feel better about how instantly attracted you'd been. You'd probably look back and hate yourself for it, but you felt yourself crying. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, honey?”

You shook your head and he wiped one away, letting you hide in his chest. He was so warm, it felt so right, like the sunshine feeling would never go away. "You meant what you said earlier right? You'll stick by me?"

It felt so right when his hands traced up and down the back of your neck, “Of course, honey, won't leave your side. I got you."

God, this was embarrassing. "Sorry.” You pulled away and he shook his head.

"You're okay, don't worry, that's what this is for. We're here for each other.”

You nodded slowly, sinking into his deep eyes, you'd never seen the ocean, but you imagined that's what it would look like. "I should go make my appearance now.” Before you said another thing he had your shoe back on your foot and his on as well. Pulling you up to help you stand. "Promise to stay?" It felt pathetic, but also like he was the one you were supposed to turn to.

“Promise. I'll never leave your side, honey." Finnick squeezed your hand and maybe you could now face the world. The universe had gifted you, at your lowest point, your soulmate in a matter of minutes. Someone who could already seemingly read you like a book and made your heart beat like there was a racket happening, and you knew that you'd finally be able to just truly be you with someone. Through thick and thin, through the highest highs and lowest lows, suddenly you knew you had each other.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, I tried to make this fluffy but honestly it's kind of a struggle so I hope it's up to standard. as always if you enjoyed feedback, comments, reblogs, likes, are all very, very appreciated. asks and requests are both open and I love you all 💋

@wowzabowza69

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you #finnick x y/n

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xas24 · 5 months

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hellooo!! lmfao idk if its just me but am i the only one who noticed that pedri absolutely HATES the cold, or he just gets rly cold easily idk but the way he wears his puffer jacket is so cute, anyway i was hoping u could write something related to that?? love ur work btw !!!☺️

cold boy - pedri

summary: pedri visits england for the first time and realises that he was definetely not made for cold weather.

being from an island that is known for its hot temperatures, pedri cannot handle the cold that surrounds him in various areas of barcelona in winter, or anywhere that is close to a minus in the temperature. his coat would be clung to his body, begging for some sort of warmth in these freezing conditions, and this was something that didn't go unnoticed by y/n or many barça fans.

y/n thought it was absolutely adorable, the way he would shove his hands into the pockets of his coat, head and neck covered by the hood. sometimes she would fling her scarf around his neck, just so he could get that extra bit of warmth she knew his body very much needed.

currently, the two were in the uk, back in y/ns home town for a few days of the holidays. y/n was aware of how cold the temperatures usually are in england, which is why she’d made her boyfriend pack as many fluffy sweaters, puffer coats and beanies he had.

pedri was excited for the adventure, the new experience of visiting england, a place he had never been before, but most of all he was looking forward to meeting his girlfriends family once again. he knew how much they loved him, and likewise he enjoyed their presence and the positive, cheery aura her folks possessed.

what he wasn't mentally prepared for was how cold it would be. in all honesty, he thought y/n was exaggerating with the temperatures; he didn't think it would be this cold until it had smacked him right in the face. his nose and tips of his ears had instantly started to turn pink and his lips became chapped, yet he still put a smile on his face whilst greeting his girlfriend's family and laughing at their jokes of how the canarian was finding this freezing weather.

it was now the second day of the couple being in england, and pedri was slightly adjusting to the winter weather. when y/n had asked him to go down to the markets with her, he had refused as he didn't want to spend another second freezing his ass off outside.

but when she pouted and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips, he couldn't deny her anymore.

"thank you! i promise it'll be fun, its not that cold out today." y/n stated as she put on her puffer coat. just a quick look outside begged to differ but pedri huffed and put on his own coat, grabbing his gloves and his beanie before following her out the bedroom.

the two made their way downstairs and as y/n was grabbing her bag, she noticed how cute her boyfriend looked stood to the side, his hair and ears submerged into the wool of his beanie and his hands in his pockets.

she grabbed a scarf and smiled as she made her way over to him.

"here," pedri watched as she reached up and wrapped the scarf around his neck twice. she fluffed it up so he was fully covered, then kissed him on the lips. "now you won't feel as cold."

pedris heart practically leaped out of his chest at her gesture; his cheeks warmed with love and adoration for the girl infront of him, transforming his lips into a shy grin. his arms wrapped around her neck as he pulled her body closer to his so he could lay a kiss onto her lips properly, mouths slotting together and cold breaths mixing as he kissed his gratitude and love into her.

"thank you, but i think i'll still freeze to death." he whispered against her mouth once he pulled away.

y/n chuckled and pinched his side, eyes glaring up into his brown ones. "you'll be fine, stop being a baby."

pedri pouted and snuck his head into her neck. the warmth he felt, all snuggled up into her body with his arms around her waist, was unmatched - no cold could truly bother him whilst he was in his girls arms. he pressed a kiss to her neck and whined once again that he would rather stay inside.

"no, you're gonna have fun, trust me, amor. c'mon." she grabbed his hand, letting him kiss her cheek one last time before pulling him towards the front door.

she really wanted him to see her home town, the markets that she grew up going to every weekend, the views of the sunset, the lights that illuminated the night and kept the town awake, and especially the snow that made everything look like a fairytale.

pedri saw the excitement evident on her face, so his fingers tightened in her hold. he pulled her closer to his body and they both made their way down the streets and to the markets. they laughed and talked about whatever they wanted whilst the snow trickled down and the cold wind wafted around them but pedri could’ve cared less in that moment as he had his girl by his side.

#barça #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #imagine

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fayeriess · 5 months

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ DIRTY LAUNDRY ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: bitter about having to drag your laundry basket down the street for your weekly wash, you have a not-so-nice first encounter with the girl who's wearing the same band tee as you. the good news? she's the type of girl you only see in your dreams. the bad? she's your roommate's girlfriend.

warnings: modern!au, implied cheating, cheating, alcohol usage, mentions of guilt, slight angst, not proof-read

a/n: a republish of a small little unfinished series from last year. before anyone gets on my head, i promise superheaven was not as viral early last year as it is now lolll ( its one of my favorite bands ) anywho, enjoy almost 8k words of tea.... lmk what you think, i love getting feedback!

You were precisely three hundred steps away from your destination; a small, collapsing laundromat a couple of blocks from your lackluster apartment. If you widen your short strides just a bit then maybe you’d be able to cut the distance by a few seconds — maybe, five or ten just to escape the intense rays of the summer sun that beamed down on you.

It was hot enough that the cartilage of your ears were warm to the touch, practically torched by the heat as your fingers ached, feeling as if they were to lock in place at any second from the continuous minutes of strain they had endured. Dirty clothing sat piled in a white, plastic laundry basket, stuffed without care, and unmatched in terms of colors; heavy on the muscles of your arms as you attempted to lift it once more.

The action caused the muscles in your upper back to flex, an ache to accompany the dull throb in protest of the weight that you had tried to pull. A sheen of sweat formed on your forehead; thin enough for you to wipe away with the back of your hand as you puff your cheeks out, letting out a dramatic huff of air.

After you had straightened your back from being hunched over, the heat seemed to creep through you in the form of a dry throat and sticky skin, bare skin trapped under molecules of heat, and clothing damp from the unrelenting ball of fire in the sky. You couldn’t help but let your lips press into a thin line at the feeling of embarrassment starting to burn up on your bare neck, spreading but unseen to the eyes. The band tee you wore did little to shield your self-consciousness, your tension-filled aura seemingly spreading a transparent mist as you resorted to dragging the basket across the uneven concrete of the sidewalk.

Twenty more steps and you’d be able to melt away under the cool blast of the dusty air conditioner. It was better than nothing.

“Do you need some help?”

The voice was one laced with curiosity, a certain playfulness entwined within it as you kept your gaze locked on the tips of your worn shoes.

A second passed by — two seconds, before you shook your head in refusal, pushing wisps of hair out of your face and behind your ear with a finger on your right hand. “No, I think I can manage.”

A dry chuckle reached your ears and that’s what finally caused you to glance at the stranger who had so kindly offered you a helping hand.

She was tall. Her shoulders were broad, and her arms bulky but sculpted so perfectly, the thought that she had to be a bodybuilder had crossed the expanse of your brain. Hell, she had ‘athlete’ written all over here as she towered over you, shielding your frame from the sun, giving you a much-needed break from its unintentional abuse.

In one of her large hands, she held a small bag, a half-eaten empanada taking refuge within the greasy paper staining her fingers in an orange hue that could only be from blotches of oil that littered it.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in a fishtail braid, tendrils of it framing her sun-kissed, freckled face as her blue eyes scanned across the expression you tried to mask with confidence; albeit the very lame effort to do so.

You watched as she raised a brow, eying your clammy palms that circled one of the short, white handles of the basket that was filled to the brim with clothing. She couldn’t help but assume that you were someone who waited last minute to do things due to your frazzled state, although she internally slapped herself for criticizing someone when she knew for a fact that she wasn’t in any position to do so. She was way worse.

That’s why she was here too, was it not?

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing such a good job.”

Immediately after those words were pushed past her lips, she pulled them back in a grimace; realizing just how rude it sounded even though it was unintentional.

With your eyebrows furrowed at the jab, you scoffed with a not-so-nice murmur under your breath before pulling on the basket once more, rushing to move away from the rude stranger awkwardly as her gaze burned into your already heated skin.

Why had that comment bothered you so much? You didn’t know.

But your sour mood was rubbing off on her, you noticed, as she had rolled her eyes before cocking her neck to the left, then to the right to a row of parked cars before her eyes locked on a trash can a couple of feet behind you. She had retreated out of your line of vision, a shuffle of noise being picked up by your ears before a whoosh of air had weaved itself between your now empty hands.

It was only then when you had blinked your dry eyes that you noticed the basket was missing, having been scooped up in her broad arms with ease as she held it in one hand and pulled on the rusting, metal handle of the laundromat glass door with the other, the bell above it ringing loudly as she turned to look at your awkwardly stiff frame stood in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Are you comin’?”

It didn’t take a genius to sense the hesitance that was harbored within you as you continued to stand there, the sun illuminating you in a light glow before you started to move your feet toward her.

Moving past her, you inhaled the faint scent of her — earthy yet comforting; with a hint of cinnamon mixed with sandalwood and clean soap. Turning your head, you found yourself in dimmer lighting and a cooler atmosphere, glad to finally be out of the scorching sun.

“So first you insult my strength and then you find yourself wanting to help me?”

Surveying the empty laundromat, you could hear the small echo of your voice as you questioned her with curiosity, inhaling the scent of different detergents and fabric softeners. If you squint your eyes hard enough, you could spot the small remnants of chewed gum smoothed into the scuffed flooring as it had practically blended in with it from the lack of maintenance the place had received.

Seriously, who was running this place?

Turning on the balls of your feet in a means to face her, you watched as she set your laundry basket down in front of a washer with a small thud. “My goal from the beginning was to help you but I didn’t get my point across in a very polite way, did I?”

“Hm,” You hummed slowly, pretending to think for a second before lifting your shoulders into a shrug. “No, I guess you didn’t.”

Her lips had lifted into a smirk at your snarky response before she jutted her chin outward, nodding in your direction. “Cool shirt by the way.”

With lips open and ready to respond to the sudden compliment, your eyes quickly scanned across her attire. Throughout the small interaction, you had seemingly failed to notice the dark muscle shirt she wore.

Five blue mushrooms with pink stems decorated the front, along with a mint-green snake wrapped around the mushroom in the middle. The words ‘Superheaven’ took all the attention in big, bold lettering in a shade similar to Indigo Blue — but not quite the exact color.

Looking down at your own, you realized that you were wearing the same shirt, and a twinge of interest sparked up in you.

“You listen to Superheaven?”

The girl raised an eyebrow, “Asking me personal questions already and I don’t even know your name.”

Rolling your eyes for what was the hundredth time today, you leaned down to pull the washer door open, shoving a handful of clothes in the small circle hastily before slamming it shut, pushing until you heard the small ‘clink’ of the latch as it was now secure. “It wasn’t a personal question.”

Digging your right hand into one of your back pockets, you retrieved a chipping, neon orange card, inspecting both the front and back side, shrugging in satisfaction at the state of it.

You silently prayed it worked; as you had found it in the depths of your drawer. It had almost faded into the abyss of all the junk in the dusty area as you stared it down. The contemplation on whether or not to save yourself a couple of dollars for half of the bills of your cracking apartment and risk it not working and being fucked — or — spending the money on a good wash and clean but regret it in the hours of the night where you’d find yourself staring at the ceiling in the darkness of your room, mentally beating yourself up for the path you had taken resulting in your financial choices.

Thus, here you were, sliding it into the beat-up machine that provided small packets of powdered detergent, inconspicuously crossing your fingers in the hope that there was just enough money in there for you to wash your clothes. “Just one someone else would’ve asked you eventually if they haven’t already.” You continued.

Glancing at her from behind your shoulder, a challenging look crossed your features once you had gotten her attention. “Unless you respond to everyone in the same manner you talked to me in and they were put off by that?”

Turning your head toward the machine again, you pressed the dust-covered buttons for your desired laundry soap, watching the price flash in red on the small screen above the keypad as it dispensed.

From behind you, she cleared whatever blockage was in her throat, the muscle behind her closed lips clicking against the roof of her mouth as she thought of a retort.

“No, just you.” She confirmed, moving her azure eyes from your frame to focus on the task of shoving all of her clean laundry from the large dryer in a white, plastic garbage bag; the material of it ripping as she tried to stuff every article of clothing she brought with her inside.

You hummed, nodding your head despite knowing that she wasn’t staring at you. “I still didn’t get your name though.”

She wiped the layer of sweat forming on her forehead, swiping at it with the back of her hand before dusting the perspiration on the denim of the loose jeans covering her thighs. “Abby.”

It was a curt reply to your statement. A simple — but sweet and short answer that caused the corners of your plump lips to quirk up in a lop-sided smile as you bent down, outstretching your arm to grab the small packet of laundry detergent before retreating to your clothing.

“Okay Abby,” A satisfied look crossed over your features as you decided that you liked the way it sounded after it rolled off the tip of your tongue. It suited her just a tad, even though it wasn’t the first guess you would’ve made if she had asked you to play that sort of guessing game with her. “So, judging by the shirt, I’m assuming you listen to Superheaven?”

Opening the small, built-in compartment in the washer for the soap, you poured half of the packet, figuring it was just enough to get the job done before closing it. A couple of feet away from you, you could hear the taller girl shuffle around before she sat on one of the chipping wooden chairs; the object creaking with a small groan under all of her weight.

Watching as she shrugged, you noticed how her tongue broke through her once-closed lips, moisturizing them before she cocked her head to the side. “Kind of? I mean, my girlfriend does. She was the one who got me into them.”

Your finger stopped above the button to start up the machine only for a fraction of a second before you pushed inward, a small beeping noise filling the tension-filled silence before a rush of water signaled the start of your cycle.

Settling for a lame, “Oh, nice!” you awkwardly leaned against the dusty metal of the vibrating machine, looking at her freckled face, flushed and shiny with sweat as she focused all her attention on tying the second knot of the bag.

The old, rusty air conditioning did little to cool the temperature of your body as you glanced around the stuffy area, sniffing lightly from the particles of dust floating in front of you, disturbed from the palm of your hand slapping onto the surface of cool metal behind you.

Abby kept her eyes locked on the torn trash bag as she stood from her position, back cracking slightly as she stretched her limbs, letting the blood flow regularly through her veins once more. “What’s your favorite song by them?”

“Uh,” You paused, biting on your lower lip, scanning your brain for the songs you remembered from their discography which was only about two albums long. “ it’s gotta be their most known one, I'm not gonna lie.”

Abby hitched the bag over her shoulder without struggle, biceps flexing as she snapped her fingers before holding her other hand out to stop you from uttering your next sentence. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it, uhh…” She thought for a couple of seconds, pushing wisps of blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear; opting to angle her mouth to blow them away when that temporary solution didn’t work. “... ‘Youngest Daughter?’”

“Close, ‘Life in a Jar’.”

“I was on the right track, though.”

You scoffed playfully, craning your neck in the direction of the impending darkness that awaited you outside, the sun low on the horizon and casting a warm glow of gentle light into the dim, dreary, place.

“By all means, don’t let me hold you up either.” You expressed, gesturing to the bag over her shoulder which she seemed to momentarily forget about with parted lips, raising both brows in surprise that there was even something in her hand.

It came as a shock to you when she had set it down with a small ‘thud’ once more, pulling her phone out of her back pocket a minute after as it had quietly buzzed in the space of her jeans, warm on both sides from being trapped against two heat sources. You watched with bated breath as she sat again, thumbs furiously typing away on the screen, her lips all but pressed together into a thin line.

Turning back to your clothing being tossed about in the wash, you focused on the suds of soap sloshing around the hazy water, clusters of bubbles forming before they’d be ripped apart by the force of the splattering water.

“I was gonna stay here and chat a little longer, but I’m needed elsewhere.” Her words pulled you out of your spinning thoughts, your bottom eyelashes fluttering against your skin as you blinked, clearing your throat.

Before you could speak, the bell above the door rang, and she was out the door with a small ‘it was nice meeting you’ left in her wake as slammed shut behind her, leaving her scent and the previous conversation lingering.

And then you were alone.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

Standing behind the kitchen island, you squeezed the damp, wet rag between nimble fingers, the muscles in your bicep straining to scrub at a particularly stubborn stain on the counter that refused to leave.

Over these past couple of days, an overwhelming sense of guilt has consumed you. Guilt for thinking about Abby.

Whenever her face flashed as if it were a film on the reel of your mind, you thought about the short, meaningless interaction you had to remind yourself that she was just a stranger being nice.

Nothing more, nothing less.

So, why exactly did her name bounce in the space of your brain in big lettering, screaming for attention?

You had no idea.

Sighing dramatically, you grasped one of the sharp edges of the cool, marble counter with your left hand, scrubbing at the same spot with your right furiously.

“Are you okay?”

Freezing in your tracks, you titled your head up to come face-to-face with your roommate, Lorelai, observing how the once relaxed muscles under her smooth skin contorted into that a worried expression as her bare feet padded against the wood flooring. Her eyes never left yours even when she lifted a hand to pull the refrigerator door open, curling her fingers around the handle as she turned her torso to face you.

You nodded, darting your eyes from side to side as you dropped the rag onto the island, discarding it before leaning your lower back against the edge to fully show your interest in the arising conversation.

“Yeah. Why?”

Lorelai shrugged nonchalantly, bending down to get a better look at all the drink choices available in your limited supply of groceries; some of which were close to being unusable due to upcoming expiration dates. “I figured I’d ask 'cause you’ve been a little spaced out these last couple of days.”

Pulling out a half gallon of Orange Juice, she closed the fridge door before making her way to one of the many cupboards in the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and rinsing it with faucet water.

Tapping your short fingers against the polished marble, you spoke. “I just have a couple of things on my mind, but really, I’m good.”

You had met Lorelai in your senior year of high school; having sat next to each other in chemistry class unwillingly as you were given assigned seats for the semester. While others sulked with their seating partners, you and the brunette hit it off as soon as her butt touched the chair. She was an extrovert; a bit on the chatty side, wanting to cover any and every ground possible in terms of socializing without crossing any boundaries. As sweet as she was, the girl who only stood at a mere five foot three deemed herself to be just as scholarly, graduating top of her class and valedictorian.

From then on, you two were stuck at the hip. Spending all three months of summer after graduation vacationing to wherever your near-empty wallets, and even emptier bank accounts allowed.

She was your best friend; so much so that after your sophomore year in college, you made the big decision to move in together.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully before gulping a large sip of her extra pulp-filled orange juice. “Yeah, okay.”

She resolved to put her short glass in the sink once she got to it, “So, you know how I uh,”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as if she was debating on letting her next words slide past them.

After a couple of seconds of her silence, you slowly raised a brow, cocking your neck to the side as tendrils of hair tickled the skin of your shoulder through the material of your shirt; an involuntary shiver being sent down your spine at the movement.

The gasp that left you when she quickly whipped around was low, reverberating in the back of your throat when she stared at you with wide eyes.

“I have a girlfriend and she’ll be here in like five minutes. I didn’t wanna tell you 'cause I know how you go into mom mode making sure the apartment is clean and I didn’t want you to feel stressed, especially since it’s just her.”

Parted lips turned into a slack, achy jaw as you took in the rush of words she threw at you in the form of a confession. The cogs in your brain turned a little too painstakingly slowly, your eyes narrowing into slits as her rant hit you right across your face. “Oh, my god.” You chuckled. The noise develops into a maniacal laugh, then you gasped dramatically, “Oh my god!”

This was her very first relationship. Ever. And you were freaking the fuck out.

For as long as you had known Lorelai; she kept the possibility of meeting someone in a romantic aspect within arms reach; coming to the conclusion that it was something she’d commit herself to once she was ready to make that big of a leap — you guessed this would be the point in her life where that leap was being taken.

For that, curiosity gnawed at you greedily as you found yourself desperately wanting to know who exactly had her on her high horse; apples of her cheeks rosy with admiration, an equally love-drunk smile and a few extra skips in her already peppy step.

But as you went to speak, to let your questions flow out of you as the metaphorical dams had been picked up from your mind, letting you gather yourself; there were three, sharp knocks at the front door.

With a giddy smile on her face, Lorelai ran in place for a couple of seconds, ridding herself of the burst of energy as she looked from you, to the door, then back to you again. “She’s here,”

Looking down at your attire, you decided that short shorts and a crop top wasn’t suitable enough to be meeting a girlfriend — let alone your best friends, so you pointed a thumb back to your room, heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

“I’m gonna go change. Open the door.” You whispered, scurrying back to the confines of your bedroom and closing the door behind you. Looking around, you blew out a breath, eying the pink dresser to your right, a couple of feet away from the foot of your bed before shuffling toward it to yank open the third drawer down.

Ransacking for a pair of sweats seemed to be a hard task on this night out of all nights as you grew increasingly annoyed at the lack of pants you had stumbled upon. The pressure of presenting yourself for Lorelai’s sake in a timely manner compacting tightly, as if to signal that you were treading on thin ice. Loud muffled laughter could be heard, a sound that was slightly foreign to your ears as you shook your head, rifling deeper into your drawer as if it were a bottomless pit.

Seriously, you just fucking washed laundry too.

Your hands ghosted across the waistband of your blue shorts, fingers yanking the material down as to rid yourself of the article of clothing. Sighing to yourself, you bent down to step out of the thin cotton material, throwing it somewhere in your room for you to find later before adjusting the lace of your thong.

It was one of your favorites; all white with small, red cherries patterned across with a lace waistband. You had gotten it on a self-care day, something that you had spoiled yourself with once in a blue moon for all the hard studying you do. Plus, there was a sale at the local mall in Victoria's Secret; Lorelai had all but dragged you right into it as soon as her brown eyes fell on the sale sign.

Shimmying on your sweats, you were able to pull them up to your ankles before a sudden rush of air hit your ass, goosebumps rising on the once smooth, blemished skin there as you grew stiff, the hairs on your arms raising, tickling the flesh covering your body in a taunting manner as you sighed, preparing to turn yourself around.

“Lorelai - I said-“

Only it wasn’t your best friend who you were standing half naked in front of; nipples perked through a thin spaghetti strap, lace thong leaving little to the imagination — it was her girlfriend.

The girlfriend who you saw less than a week ago in the laundromat in all her muscular, blonde-haired glory.

God, you were fucking mortified.

“Well this isn’t the bathroom.”

“Obviously not.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“She can’t know.”

“Jaime, I can’t kick her out of the apartment for two hours. She lives here too, just a reminder.” With the heat of your cell phone against the tissue of your ear, you maneuvered yourself around the island counter. Bare feet padded against the hardwood of the freshly mopped floors as you opened the freezer door with a free hand, eyes darting across the small space in search of your dinner for tonight. “She’s also not stupid so she’ll know something’s up.”

From the other end of the line, crackling static was all your ears could pick up before she sighed loudly, breaking the beat of silence. “Well, I have to decorate the apartment for her birthday. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't set up a celebration? Can’t you just ask her girlfriend to take her to do shit? Unless she’s one of those whacko types of people. God, I hate buzzkills.”

Rolling your eyes, you outstretched an arm into the coolness of the frosted freezer, digging out a pint of unbranded mint chocolate chip ice cream. “I’m pretty sure she has a couple of things planned. From what I’ve seen so far she’s in good hands.”

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that the girlfriend’s cool, and there isn’t an issue with her keeping Lorelai out of the way.” Her chirpy voice held a hint of a smile as she shuffled about. You assumed she was gathering her things; keys, purse, charger, and the decorations she had hoarded up in a brown, cardboard box for the past two weeks for this occasion.

Jaime was a good friend. That was evident from the numerous times she’s run to your side, consoling you in the instances that you’ve cried due to personal happenings… and the group of individuals she’d hang out with. Truthfully, the capacity of your brain couldn’t comprehend the exact reason as to why she rubbed shoulders with who she did, mostly because they had money; something Jaime was practically swimming neck-deep in.

You shrugged, an action accompanied by the edges of your lips which turned into a frown as you focused your attention on the plastic lid of the container, peeling it off with your right hand, the phone still sandwiched between your ear and shoulder blade. “Yeah, Abby’s cool. Bestie approved.”

Abby.

Three weeks. Three weeks and two days had passed since that bathroom mix-up fiasco, and to say things were tense was putting it lightly, to say the least. After you frantically shooed her away, bent forward and pants mid-thigh, the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air after the door closed had your heart palpitating. It was embarrassing to the point where the blood flowed to your cheeks, causing them to be warm to the touch. When the door had closed after the short exchange of words, you had sat in the corner of your bed, pants still halfway on, and eyes as wide as could be.

At the time, you had no idea how much time passed when you sat there before finally taking a deep, burning inhalation of breath and pulling the rest of your sweats up your thighs. Wiping your warm, clammy hands on the fabric of them afterward as a means to rid any nervousness and tension that had weaved itself between your muscles.

Looking back at your past decisions, hiding behind the chipping, wooden door frame that lead to the living room area wasn’t the best idea, as it only made things just a tiny bit more awkward when Lorelai coaxed you from your shell, leaping for you to reveal the look of embarrassment that clouded over your features. The thick fog that compressed your lungs had nearly sent you into cardiac arrest as the three of you stood there in silence, and it had been Lorelai who had been the one to ask if you two knew each other, taking notice of your body language.

It was Abby who had nonchalantly shrugged and said that the both of you had met a week prior at the laundromat, leaning against one of the countertops, muscles bulging from underneath the t-shirt she wore.

This was truly a revelation to you and an unexpected one at that.

Out of all people. It had to be her. It had to be Abby.

Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes at how peppy you sounded, setting down your phone on the marble of the island counter. Twisting your body around to pull open one of the many drawers, your fingers flexed, plucking a silver, metal spoon from the small bin, twirling it in your grasp.

Jaime clapped her hands together, mumbling something incoherent to who you assumed was her cat judging from the low, crackled meows that followed. “Nice, I’ll be there in an hour.”

Opening your mouth to interject, you huffed at the beeping that signaled the end of the call, and your very short conversation with Jaime.

Puffing out your cheeks, you sighed to yourself dramatically, scanning your eyes around the expanse of your shared, empty apartment before stabbing the tip of your spoon in the lush green of the cream, scooping up an extra chocolate chip or two along the way.

It was just you and your thoughts.

On any other day, you would’ve enjoyed it, sitting in silence; listening to the muffled chirps of the birds outside hidden in green shrubs, the whoosh of wind ruffling trees, and the constant honk of horns at the end of the street. It was a thinking period, a time when you’d plan out your day without having to worry about anything — or anyone.

Clearing certain things from your consciousness was a talent, and you pride yourself in your ability to tune out things. It was something Lorelai had learned to live with these past couple of years, even though it still annoyed her to no end.

Practically throwing yourself onto one of the three wooden stools lined up against the outer end of the island. It creaked beneath you when you leaned back, causing the skin of your lips to pull back into a grimace as you continued to sulk in the presence of nobody else but yourself.

Shoveling the cold spoon in the warmness of your mouth, the mint flavor seeped onto your tastebuds, melting as you swallowed. The enamels of your teeth were cold from the contact they had with the dairy, a slight throb forming near your gums when you took another bite.

You had no choice but to text Abby, even though you were deciding against it. After all, you didn’t want Lorelai’s surprise to be ruined and Jaime to hit you upside the head for neglecting the only task you’d been assigned.

So, with the slightest bit of hesitance, you left your spoon in the container and picked up your phone from the counter, typing in your six-digit password and scrolling through your messages to find her name.

Her number had been given to you last weekend by Abby herself, who had awkwardly pulled you aside and silently passed you her phone, the contact info option already open, as well as the keypad. Just as you should’ve been — you were confused, very confused.

In every crevice and dark corner of your mind, there should’ve been a reason as to why exactly she wanted your number, but that question quickly left your mind when you looked at her freckled face, and long, fluttering lashes.

Fuck.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your fingers hover over the keyboard as you organized the right words to text in your brain, the sentence a jumbled mess.

“ decorating the house for lorelai :) keep her occupied for an hour or so, please!”

“ for sure. what time do I bring her back? “

“ four?? I don’t know, around there. “

Receiving a thumbs up back in response, you pressed one of the side buttons, clicking off the screen.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“Happy Birthday!” The numerous voices shouted with you, all facing toward the front door where Lorelai stood, Abby in tow.

It had been three hours since Jaime burst through the door, the box of decorations in hand, giddy with excitement at the opportunity to execute her vision. She had shoved the brown box into your hand, asking you to set it down on the coffee table in the living room as she spun on her heel to start, babbling about where things should go.

The decoration process went more smoothly than anticipated, and it was because you had just stood in the corner the entire time, watching curiously as she set the house up for the occasion.

Once Jaime started something, you just had to leave all the work to her, or else it wouldn’t turn out how she envisioned.

“What the fuck? Oh, my god!” Lorelai’s face morphed into one of surprise, a smile overtaking her lips as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “You guys did this all for me?”

From beside you, Jaime raised her hand, “No, just me. C’mere you big goober.”

The space she once occupied was empty as she met Lorelai in the kitchen area, embracing her in a tight hug before letting her go.

You watched from your spot near the arm of the couch, as Lorelai’s eyes darted from every party guest and straight to you, a big, lop-sided smile gracing her face as she made her way over to you.

Your lips curled upward in response, arms outstretched to hold her in your arms. She smelled like freesia and cotton candy perfume, something comforting to you, but not to the point where you could feel all the guilt melting away.

It was hot on your skin, burning you alive and tainting your very existence, starting from the outside.

You were a bad friend. A fucking horrible one for thinking about her girlfriend, who looked at you from behind Lorelai’s shoulder with a toothy grin, her irises practically boring into yours.

“Happy Birthday, Lai.” You muttered quietly into her ear, cheeks warming once she pulled away to look you in the eyes. They were swimming with adoration — something you didn’t deserve.

“Thank you.” She expressed over the chatter, hands interlaced with yours as she swung them from side to side. “This year’s birthday is tied with last year's so far.”

At that, you snorted. “So indoor drinking is better than the carnival I took you to?”

Her brown hair fell over her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, Abby appeared next to her, guiding a hand to the small of Lorelai’s back.

“This looks nice,” Tilting her head to look at the colorful eyesore of streamers, she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, letting her eyes travel from the ceiling to the walls that were littered with pink balloons. A large “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sign hung across the width of the wall-mounted flat screen tv, decorated with heart stickers to, in Jaime’s words, ‘make it more noticeable.’ although you doubted anyone beside you, her, Lorelai, and Abby had taken the time to look at.

Nodding your head, you fiddled with a loose string at the end of the blouse you had changed into, something a little more modest than you’d usually go for, but cute nonetheless. “Yeah, Jaime did a good job.”

The fast-paced clicking of heels had you turning your head in the direction of the sound. Jaime stood with four wine coolers in her hands, dangling them in the air from the necks as she outstretched one of her arms.

“I heard my name, so I came with drinks.”

You narrowed your eyes, the gears in your head turning as you tried to decipher what brand rested in her shaky hands, smiling widely once you realized what they were. “I can never say no to Mike’s Hard.”

Abby nudged you playfully, nodding her head to agree with you as she took the two glass bottles from Jaime’s left hand. “In my top five.”

Snorting, you turned to her, jaw agape. “Top five? You have horrible taste. Top three at least.”

She shook her head, tendrils of hair falling from her usual fish braid. “My top three spaces are reserved for the hard shit only.”

Rolling your eyes, you shooed her off, watching as she handed Lorelai one of the bottles, leaning down to whisper something in her ear, which earned her a giggle from the brunette as she slapped her bicep.

Averting your gaze from the pair, you sighed, grabbing one of the bottles Jaime held out to you, and popping the cap open with your shirt. Wasting no time, you chugged half of it down, the cool liquid soothing the dryness in your throat before removing it from your lips, licking the saccharine sweetness that lingered.

“Why the fuck are we all standing in a circle? I have a game of beer pong set up in the kitchen, let’s go birthday girl.” Taking her hand, Jaime dragged your best friend to the island counter, initiating a conversation with two other kids from campus for what you assumed was the game.

You weren’t sure who connected their phone to the portable speaker, but you were grateful that it was no longer silent, especially with the building tension between you and the muscular girl next to you.

“So,” Abby began, leaning against the wall, leg crossed over the other, “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

Taking another swig from your bottle, you pulled your eyes away from the crowd sitting on the couches, a very intense match of uno taking place.

It took everything in you to stare at her straight-faced, despite your curiosity. What could she possibly want to talk to you about?

“Yeah?”

You watched cautiously as she focused on the miniature opening of her alcohol bottle, index finger tracing the rim once — twice — three times before she puffed out her cheeks, sighing. “Did I do something?”

“What?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “I don’t know. I’m trying to be friends with you and it seems like that’s not what you want from me. If it’s about what happened a couple of weeks ago, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Turning your body to face her, you noticed the rosy tint that consumed the apples of her cheeks, beet red and burning. “What common interests do we have other than Lorelai that calls for us to be more than just acquaintances? And I wasn’t embarrassed, I was mortified.”

A dry, airy laugh made its way past her lips. “You and me both.”

“Didn’t seem like you were.”

“Oh, I was.”

You downed the rest of your ‘Mike’s Hard’, lifting it to your face to observe the label. It was something to keep yourself busy to not stare at her again. Because, fuck, if you stared at her again, you were sure you’d go into cardiac arrest.

“Besides that, as I said, there isn’t a reason for us to be friends.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, staring at you with a hint of curiosity swimming in her eyes. “You said we don’t have any other common interests besides Lorelai, I don’t think that’s the case. What about Superheaven?”

You were surprised, even if your face didn’t show it. She hadn’t forgotten that meaningless three-week-old conversation? Interesting.

“See, the only common interest we have.”

“No, we still have Mike’s Hard to talk about.” She pressed, eliciting a low laugh from you.

“What? You want us to discuss our favorite flavors?”

Abby clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “That depends on if you want me to get you another drink or not.”

If this was her attempt at trying to pry a conversation out of you, she succeeded.

“...Okay, surprise me.”

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, your crowd of friends retired home for the night.

That left you, Lorelai, and Abby alone in the apartment, separated by walls and your figure hunched over the toilet.

Mentally, you were slapping yourself at the excessive amount of drinks you consumed throughout the night on an empty stomach. And the cold sweat you were in made it all the more worse for you.

Lorelai had gotten violently drunk, stumbling all over the place, words slurred and incomprehensible, the world slowly spinning. She was always a clingy drunk. That was evident from the multiple times she had hugged you and Abby throughout the night, drunkenly expressing how much she cared for the both of you, switching between holding both of your faces in the palm of her hands.

Her actions pierced your soul. She had been nothing but kind to you, showering you with positive affirmations and listening to your rants about things that bothered you, because she cared, she always did.

You did too, but not in the way she did for you.

Unlike you, she considered people’s feelings. Especially when it came to relationships, and unbeknownst to her, you were slowly weaseling your way into hers.

It wasn’t like you wanted to. As the days turned into nights and the process repeated itself, you tried damn near everything you could to get her girlfriend out of your mind. You failed — miserably.

Clutching the sides of the ceramic toilet, your stomach empties its contents, causing your mouth to taste sour and the saliva to pool at the surface of your tongue, bringing you to swallow back the bile.

You gasped at the unforeseen knock at the bathroom door, brushing a hand through the knots in your hair.

“Yeah?” Clearing your throat at how hoarse you sounded, you could hear Abby’s muffled laced with concern as she spoke.

“Are you okay? I heard you throwing up so I brought you some water.”

Setting your butt down on the tile flooring once again, you brought your knees up to your chest, closing your eyes to see if that would make you feel any better. “I’m fine. You can come in.”

Her broad figure stood in the doorway, a bottle of water swallowed by her right hand as she pursed her lips, closing the door quietly behind her. She stared at you for a couple of seconds, ocean-blue eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You snapped.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re judging me for not knowing my limits.”

Her face scrunched up, the skin there creasing, as if she ate something sour. “What? I wasn’t looking at you like that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Bending her knees, she leaned down until she was face to face with you.

You swallowed thickly, “Where’s Lorelai?”

Abby lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck, biceps flexing as she did so. “She’s sleeping. I got her changed and put her to bed.”

You opened your mouth, “Oh.”

“Yeah, you should probably lie down, too.”

Waving a hand in her direction, you lazily shooed her off. “No, I-”

There it was. You making an embarrassment of yourself, vomiting for the third time in the toilet bowl, spitting, and pressing down on the handle to flush.

“See, I told you.” She chuckled, amused at your stubbornness and the fact that your face had turned an unappealing shade of green.

The blonde took the initiative to hold your hair back as you threw up again, liquid this time as you had filled yourself with nothing but alcohol and ice cream earlier on in the day.

She didn’t know why she was sitting in here with you, you were fine, you could take care of yourself. She should be with her girlfriend, already tucked beneath a thick, warm comforter, drifting off into sleep.

But here she was instead, with you — someone who she assumed harbored some sort of dislike for her.

To her, that was unfortunate because after she had left the laundromat the day you two met, you were all she could think about. She was filled to the brim with guilt, even without knowing who you were, and when she found out — hell, it made the battle in her mind ten times worse.

She watched as you lifted your head, tilting your head back against the coolness of the wall, hoping to at least lessen your sickness slightly to eventually pick yourself up from the floor and drag yourself to the confines of your bedroom.

This was enough for today.

Uncapping the cold, plastic bottle, you let the stream of water slide down your throat, gulping mouthful after mouthful until you were satisfied.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Abby didn’t know why, but she found her limbs moving without her mind catching up to match her actions, hands on either side of her cheeks, thumb brushing over her cheekbones, feeling the heat of your flushed skin against her own.

She was full of surprises today, and you weren’t prepared for the last one of the night.

It concluded with the flesh of her warm, chapped lips against your cold, wet ones, despite the numerous times you dipped your head in the toilet.

And just like the bad friend you are, you kissed her back, hard enough to knock her off the tips of her toes and onto her bottom as it came in contact with the tile of the bathroom floor.

She pulled away, looking you straight in your eyes without a hint of guilt giving away how she felt right now, but the hammering of her heart against her ribcage gave you the answer you needed.

“What’re you doing to me?”

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #tlou abby

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heliosthegriffin · 6 months

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"So, who's the most dangerous member of team JNPR?" Yang asked the table unprompted, the rest of her team looking up from their food.

"Hmm, Pyrrha." Weiss said with little thought. "Perfect form, incredible strength and reflexes, she is definitely their ace in the hole."

"Really?" Yang held her stomach. "Nora's stronger, and her energy she brings to a fight is something else,"

Blake was silent in thought for a moment. "The question, it isn't who's the strongest, or most skilled, though. Pyrrha is definitely the best fighter, but Nora is stronger, but the element of surprise and intelligence, are just as deciding a factor in a fight. Ren's not as good a fighter, or as strong, but his mobility and aura control mixed with his ruthlessness, I think make him more dangerous."

"Elaborate." Weiss stated.

"Well, Nora is strong and energetic, but she's always going to come at you head on, so it's easy to counter her, if you don't fight her on her terms. Pyrrha better about that, but she's very civil, so she's not going to fight you outside of arena, or unless you start it. Ren, though? I can see him slitting someone's throat."

The rest of the table stared at her blankly.

"Nah, it's Jaune." Ruby said after a beat, drinking some milk.

"What?" Weiss said flatly. "You must be kidding. He's by far the least skilled, weakest, and most disgra-"

"Ok that's enough, princess." Yang cut her off. "But, she's got a point, Ruby."

Ruby shrugged. "Yeah, that's true, but-" She took a drink of milk. "What's Jaune's fighting style?"

Weiss huffed. "Simple, it's nothing, he doesn't have one."

"Yeah, it's kind of random style."

Blake thought for a moment, seeing a flash of triumph in Ruby's eyes. "Oh, that's your point."

Ruby gave finger guns at the cat-girl. "Exactly! You asked who's the most dangerous! It's Jaune, because, how you going to fight someone who doesn't know what he's going to do next?"

"What?" Yang and Weiss asked simultaneously.

Blake nodded along. "She's got a point, how are you going to react to someone who doesn't know what even he's going to do next?"

"Plus, have you ever been hit by him?" Ruby added, with no one stepping up to the plate. "His skill and style might not be great, but his strength is incredible, and his durability, endurance, and staying power are unmatched if you ask me."

"She's right, you know." A new voice interjected, all of team RWBY turning to face the sudden newcomer.

"Ren? Since when did you get here?" Yang asked.

"Since the beginning," He said simply, sipping from a juice box. "But, it's definitely, Jaune." His eyes became distant and foggy. "Always has been."

"Uh, you ok, buddy?" Yang putting a hand on his shoulder.

Ren went back to normal. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, the look of trauma on your face, just kind of,-"

"Don't ever get locked in a food-pantry with Jaune, there's no telling what he'll do, because even he doesn't know."

"How did that even occur?" Weiss asked. "Why were you two even-"

"Nora."

"Oh."

"Well, it's not like we ever have to worry about that."

====

"Jaune Arc, you're under arrest for suspicion of forgery to enter Beacon !" Harriet Bree stormed over to the blonde as he was stocking a shelf inside one of Beacons's storage closets. With a sound of confusion and a hand of tomato soup, he turned and let go, screaming.

Harriet, moving at full speed, had no chance to stop, as she knocked away the can of soup, only for another to fall at her feet, as Jaune dropped the armfuls of soup to the ground. Harriet at full momentum, crushed the metal can underfoot, spraying it all over herself.

"Ah! Gross!" She wailed, still charging forward, only to step on another can and slip, flying up into the air and knock Jaune over. Jaune groaned as she knocked into him, recovering quick she mounted his chest, ready to knock him out.

Jaune reaching wildly, grabbed a shaker of pepper, slamming it into her face. Harriet felt her eyes water and nose sting, as she recoiled back, letting Jaune push her off of him, running for the door, Harriet behind him.

Flailing wildly, Jaune grabbed a broom, swinging it wildly around with knocking rows of preserved goods off the shelves and onto the floor, Harriet taking a wrong step trying to dodge the flailing, stepping into a puddle of oil from a broken bottle, sliding forward, right into Jaune's wild strikes.

Harriet felt her head ring and vision swim, then another swing connected, knocking her back and into a row of shelves. She went straight through it, and the shelves falling straight onto her with a groan, the sound of clanging metal and falling supplies consuming the room, as Jaune fled out the door, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him.

---

AN: Felt like writing some goofiness.

#jaune arc #Team RWBY #Lie Ren #Harriet Bree #Crack-post

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snorklingfae · 4 months

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Shades of Deception- Prologue

Dark!Joel Miller x naive!Fem reader

Synopsis: Amidst the ruins of a broken world, one survivor stands out from the rest - Joel Miller. With his sharp wit and unmatched ability to deceive, Joel has always managed to outmaneuver those around him. But when he meets y/n, an unsuspecting and trusting survivor, Joel sees an opportunity to take his game to the next level. As their relationship progresses, y/n unwittingly becomes entangled in Joel's web of lies and deceit, utterly unaware of the true extent of his cunning and manipulation. Will y/n break free from Joel's grasp before it's too late?

Notes: thinking of instead using the term y/n as it can get tedious to write but use Bambi instead as a nickname Joel uses.

Warnings: none yet more will be added in each chapter

Joel trudged wearily through the overgrown remnants of what was once a thriving city. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay, and the dilapidated buildings echoed his every footstep, reminding him of the world that had crumbled around him.

His senses were on high alert, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. Survival had become his second nature in this unforgiving landscape.

One day, fate intervened as Joel was patrolling the area, and he saw a movement amidst the rubble of an abandoned storefront.

He slowly approached, weapon at the ready, prepared for any threat. But as he drew closer, he realized it wasn't a runner or clicker. It was a survivor, like himself, but far more vulnerable than he could have imagined.

She looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, and her face was illuminated by a faint glimmer of hope that still flickered within her.

Despite the grim reality of their world, she radiated an aura of innocence and purity that Joel found both unsettling and strangely captivating.

As Joel observed her, a comparison sprang to mind, one that surprised even him. She reminded him of a character from a storybook, a creature from a world untouched by the darkness that now enveloped them—a fawn, fragile and trusting, with wide eyes that held a spark of curiosity and wonder.

Bambi, he thought to himself, though he doubted she would understand the reference in this harsh new reality.

"Are you bit?" Joel's gruff voice betrayed his concern as he approached cautiously.

"No, I swear," she replied, her voice trembling.

After a few seconds of debating, Joel sighed, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, offering him a tentative smile that tugged at something deep within Joel's hardened heart.

“I'm fine," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... scared."

Joel crouched beside her, his expression unreadable as he studied her carefully. He could see the fear in her eyes, and the uncertainty mirrored his inner turmoil.

Despite the danger that lurked around every corner, there was something about this girl that drew him in, a flicker of humanity amidst the chaos that consumed their world.

Without a word, Joel extended a hand to her, offering her comfort in a world devoid of kindness.

“Come on," he said gruffly, his tone softened by a hint of warmth that surprised even him. "You'll be safer with me."

And with that simple gesture, Joel's solitary journey took an unexpected turn, leading him down a path he never could have anticipated—a path that would intertwine his fate with hers in ways neither of them could have imagined.

As they set out together into the unknown, they would discover that sometimes, in the darkest of times, it was the tiniest glimmer of hope that could light the way forward.

Shades of deception tags

@orcasoul @paanchusblog

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem reader #dark joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel hbo #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal

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zapreportsblog · 10 months

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❝the shield maidens challenge❞

✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader

✭ fandom : vikings x reader

✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test

✭ vikings masterlist

The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.

It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.

But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.

As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.

"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."

Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"

A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."

The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.

For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.

And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.

She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."

A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."

(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."

"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."

Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.

"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.

And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."

Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."

Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."

His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."

A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.

"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."

Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."

With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.

As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.

The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.

Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.

"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."

A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."

And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months

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Hello can I ask for a Male!reader(if your fine with that!)

that is the first ever emperor/king in human history.

like there the secret Back up in case the God's try anything sneaky.

and after his reveal how would the God's and human's react to his reveal and his fight

His weapon: would be a synth or syth (i forgot how spell it lol) pure red and a lot of details

His outfit: would be kinda like Qin shi Huang's but a lot more red and a lot more details,he would also have claws but longer and on all of his fingers and would use them to claw his opponent

He also has a tattoo on his face but it's red snake 🐍

And yes he is Very VERY arrogant and confident.

(I wish I can add photos but it won't let me🥲)

For the one's i like to see:

Humans:Qin shi Huang, Nikola Tesla and jack the ripper

God's:Hades,buddha, poseidon

(and if you do this I want to say thank you!♡︎)

-Throughout history, many have argued who in fact was the first true king. This age-old question had led to bitter wars and numerous arguments and debates throughout the world.

-Only a few, the earliest inhabitants of earth, knew the truth of the true first king of the world. A fierce warrior and even greater leader, he led his people from the brink of destruction to flourish and live without any suffering.

-His name was Y/N, and if you were an avid history buff, you might have seen his name a few times, but as he existed before pre-recorded history, not much is known about him or that he was even a king.

-Handsome and imposing, he looked intimidating, but it was the aura of a king, of a leader, one who would defend and lead his people himself.

-His most recognizable feature was a tattoo on his face, of a red snake, intricately detailed, but instead of hiding his beauty, it enhanced it, highlighting his features.

-Y/N was one of the first humans to be brought back to Valhalla, dying a hero’s death, protecting a child from a bandit and has since lived in the lap of luxury ever since.

-You enjoyed surprising others, mainly kings, who came to Valhalla, proving that you were the first king and you lorded that over them, your arrogance being fueled by their rage as they weren’t able to refute it.

-Qin Shi Huang became a good friend to you, being the first emperor and the two of you were very similar in personality, both being very confident and arrogant, but you both had the skills and experience to back it up with.

-If anyone were to compare the clothes you wear, they would say it’s similar to Qin Shi Huang’s own clothes, only red in color and more ornate, with fine intricate details, but to the trained eye, they were very different.

-Pairing your fine clothes with long claw fingertip rings made you look like Qin Shi Huang’s ancestor, but there was no connection, you weren’t even from the same part of the world!

-Brunnhilde disliked dealing with you, as you could be a pain in the ass at times, but when Ragnarok was announced, you were one of the first she approached, because your strength and skills were unmatched, something she told you.

-You agreed to fight, and she told you that you were a secret back up fighter, just in case if the gods tried to do anything sneaky, which she knew they would try, and you agreed to her terms, keeping quiet about your position, mainly because you wanted to surprise everyone when you got to fight, because you knew that you would get to fight.

-Chernabog, a deity of evil was suddenly announced as the next fighter and Brunnhilde was scrambling, looking for a fighter before laughter filled her ears.

-She turned with a slight scowl as you were walking towards her, holding your weapon of choice, a massive red scythe, over your shoulder, “Yo Brunnhilde! Looks to me like you need a hand!” she sighed softly in relief as she agreed, knowing you could handle yourself as you walked by, putting a hand on the top of her head, petting affectionately like she was a child which earned you a small pout, but you could sense her elation.

-When you were being introduced as the first king of the world, many who knew you cheered, knowing what a warrior you were, while others who didn’t know about you got a quick history lesson that you were indeed the first king of the world but because you lived before recorded history, nobody knew this but it was true!!

-You spun your scythe easily around your neck, facing off against the massive hulking demon god who looked furious, but you had a feeling he always looked like that.

-You made it look easy, not getting a single scratch on you, and you weren’t even taking things seriously! You looked like you were playing a cat and mouse game with one of the strongest gods out there!! Pairing your scythe with your claws, you were easily tearing Chernabog to shreds!!

-Many of the gods were furious, seeing your strength before you spun your scythe, pointing up at them, “Unlike you lot who have been sitting on your asses for the past millennia- I’ve been training and working hard!”

-Your arrogance was irritating but you were showing that you could back it up and you had the gods quickly eating their words, much to your glee.

-Qin Shi Huang- Was holding his stomach in pain because he had been laughing so hard, seeing you enter and playing around with your opponent- you weren’t even fighting seriously!! Could only watch in amusement as his good friend easily beat his own opponent, leaving you walking out the victor, not a hair out of place as you whistled happily as you headed backstage. When you met up with him a short while later, you pouted, annoyed, “He wasn’t even that strong!” which made your friend laugh again as you leaned into him, your pout increasing, “At least you can give me what I want!” He heard the flirt in your words, as you were a shameless flirt, but then again, so was he, “I’ll always give you want you want~” Brunnhilde couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she passed, hearing the two of you being flirty.

-Nikola- Had sparkly eyes, seeing you using your weapons with such delicate grace, using momentum to make your attacks stronger. Was amazed at how easily you defeated your opponent, walking out the victor while Chernabog was wheeled out on a stretcher. Nikola had difficulties with his own fight, almost winning himself, but in the end, he lost. Once you got backstage you were surprised to see Nikola charging towards you and he skidded to a halt in front of you, having huge sparkling eyes and began to rapidly fire questions about your technique, asking about the science behind your style. He amused you and was appealing to the eye as well, and you cupped his chin, a grin on your face, “Quite the looker aren’t you? Come with me, I’ll answer your questions while we have some tea together.” Nikola turned bright red at your shameless flirting, which you thought was cute before he followed after you as you began to answer his questions.

-Jack- Was impressed with your skills in your fight, you looked like you were born to be a warrior and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing the color of your soul, it was such a beautiful blend of joy and annoyance. He could tell you were disappointed in your match, you wanted a challenge, but you were having fun. You literally ran into each other backstage, both of you rounding the corner at the same time. You were more solid, so Jack was the one to fall back but you quickly lunged and caught him, arm going around his waist as your other hand caught his own, minding your claws. He was stunned before his face quickly went red, trying to pull away from you and you grinned, giving him a wink, “Can’t say I blame you for falling for me!” Jack was quickly standing, trying to regain control of himself but you couldn’t help but smile at his lingering blush, “Thank you for preventing me from falling, sir. I apologize for bumping into you.” You just grinned, flirting a bit more, taking his hand and pecking the back of it, “I’m not bothered, but I won’t say no to learning your name.” Jack was completely tomato red, which made you want to tease him even more- he was so cute!

-Hades- Was very impressed with your skills, you made it look so easy and it made him wonder how powerful you really were. He was still aching from his own match with Qin Shi Huang, who was by no means a pushover. Hades knew firsthand that humans were way stronger than they looked and you were no exception. You made him curious and not many humans were able to grab and keep his attention. When he sought you out after your match, he wasn’t expecting you to be such a gremlin, teasing him about losing to Qin Shi Huang. He surprised you by pinning you to the wall, telling you to watch your mouth and you immediately grinned, “Oh~ I didn’t know the king of the underworld was so bold~ careful now- I just might have to call for help~” you were so shameless- openly flirting with him as he stepped back from you, going to leave and you instantly grin, going after him, now that you had a taste, “Aww don’t be shy- I’m sure Qin Shi Huang wouldn’t mind sharing with me~” Hades didn’t know what he got himself into with the two of you, already feeling a headache coming on.

-Buddha- The two of you have met before, long ago as you were in Valhalla before he arrived, something you liked to tease him about, and the two of you got along well over your fondness for hating gods and eating snacks. There were many who also thought the two of you were dating, with how openly and shambles you both flirted with each other, but whenever anyone asked, the both of you just said you were friends. He couldn’t help but grin, watching you fight- he knew you were extremely strong as you sparred with him all the time and you could hold your own against Buddha, so Chernabog was going to be a cake walk for you. When you entered the waiting room you were sharing with Buddha you beamed, “I’m back darling!” and he grinned from his spot on the couch in the room, “Welcome back love~” you dove into his arms as Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, seeing the nauseating display of affection, “You sure you two aren’t dating?” Buddha grinned, sending her a wink, “Aww~ are you jealous Bru-chan? I’ll always have room in my heart for you~ but no we’re not dating.” she sent him a small glare, crossing her arms over her chest, speaking sarcastically, “And I’m the Queen of Valhalla.” Instantly both you and Buddha bowed to her, speaking in unison, “‘Your majesty!’” she left you both with a large steaming lump on your heads as you two roared with laughter before she left, giving you a small nod, thanking you for winning, which made you beam.

-Poseidon- As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Poseidon no longer underestimated humans, especially after suffering such a humiliating defeat at the hands of ‘history’s greatest loser’ who had never won a fight before. Watching you fight was more proof of humanity’s strength as you were easily beating a god who was notoriously powerful. He leaned his cheek on his hand, a bored look on his face as he watched the match, a little curious about how strong you actually were. After your match he sought you out, wanting to ask for a match, wanting to test your skills against his own as he spoke, “I want to have a round with you.” You looked over and instantly grinned, seeing the sea god, “Oh~ so bold~ at least buy me dinner first.” His trident was instantly against your neck, a dark glare on his face, shadows covering everything except for his glaring eyes, as he hadn’t meant it in that way, but boy you were having fun, “Oooh~ so kinky I didn’t know that gods we- GURK!!” he grabbed you by your throat, going to end you here and now for your disrespectful and shameless flirting before you managed to wheeze out, while sending him a wink, “Harder~” he dropped you on your ass before turning and you were quick to scramble to your fee, chasing after him, “Wait don’t leave! You can’t tease me like that then leave me hanging!” Poseidon has no idea what he has started.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror qin shi huang #ror nikola tesla #ror jack the ripper #ror hades #ror buddha #ror poseidon

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owlight · 11 months

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Omg I just saw you saying your requests are open and I am just💕😭

Could I please have some headcanons about how Lucci would react if his girlfriend/crush had hair more beautiful than his?

Thanks for your patience and have a nice day <3

Thank you for requesting 🫶🥰I did a little one shot too beside the hc,,man have great hair,,,also ur so sweet,,this ask made my day 🥹

Tags: hair envy, Rob lucci a warning himself,bad humour, Character can be read as gn

Headcanons of Rob lucci Begin jealous of his s/o pretty hair

Rob Lucci had always prided himself on his impeccable appearance. His jet-black hair was always perfectly styled, emphasizing his sharp features and icy blue eyes. He exuded an air of confidence wherever he went, and his aura demanded attention. However, a peculiar incident occurred one sunny afternoon when Rob Lucci found himself strolling hand in hand with his lover, (Y/N). They were taking a leisurely walk through a picturesque park, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of the sun on their skin. As a gust of wind ruffled through the trees,Your hair strands shimmered in the sunlight, creating an ethereal glow around you in his eyes, Rob Lucci's eyes widened in amazement as he observed the sight before him ,He never noticed before how ..pretty is your hair is, so radiant,and so strikingly beautiful. The realization suddenly made him feel self-conscious. In that moment, a pang of envy crept into his heart ,he couldn't help but compare his own hair to your own hair. He began to question his once unshakable confidence. Was his hair truly as impressive as he had always believed? Doubts started to consume him, and he fell into an unusual silence, his thoughts turning inward ,he decided he shall try to outshine you,he needed his hair to be as perfect as he is,his perfection should never lack in any aspect,as he always thought himself to have a perfect physics,yet now he realized,he perhaps should have noticed he needed to care for his hair more- "Is something bothering you, Lucci?" You asked, your voice filled with genuine care and affection for him, obvious to the fact that lucci now have a sudden envy of your hair,Rob Lucci hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath , deciding to just compliment you ,to hide the fact he grew a sudden envy of your hair"Your hair is... breathtaking today my dear" (Y/n) eyes widened with surprise,your cheeks darken with bit of Embarrassment,not used to have lucci praise her outside in public" thank you, I appreciate it, I had a lovely morning with trying something new" Lucci eyebrow raise up" a hair product? What kind?" He asks and you chuckle " Coconut oil !" You chirp and you continue walking, lucci follow you,He take a mental note to try that later that night...

At first, Lucc find it difficult to believe that someone could possess hair more beautiful than his own, as He prides himself on his appearance and considers himself almost unmatched in terms of physical perfection. He might initially brush off the idea, thinking it impossible because he is perfect in every way possible (prideful much)

But you are literally so pretty already,you never had a bad hair day and He know because he had Hattori watch you once a whole week,your hair stay as pretty and perfect as it always is,he find himself in a trance of admiration and envy

At some point,Lucci comes to terms with the reality of his girlfriend having more beautiful hair, he would likely observe it in quiet admiration. He might not openly express his thoughts or emotions, but he would secretly marvel at the sheer beauty and elegance of you hair and while trying to figure out your secret (your secret is not murdering people)

Lucci's competitive nature would likely kick in soon enough, and he would view his partner's hair as a challenge to his own perfection. He might start researching hair care techniques, seeking ways to improve his own locks to match or surpass hers. Lucci would not settle for anything less than being the best, even when it comes to hair.

Despite his efforts, Lucci might find it difficult to match the natural beauty of his your hair,at this point his envy of your pretty hair is at it's highest

Lucci will not vocalize his thoughts even if he was held at gunpoint ,he would occasionally drop subtle compliments about your hair,He would choose his words carefully, making sure to maintain his stoic demeanor while conveying his appreciation for your beauty. These compliments would be rare but sincere, serving as rare glimpses into his softer side

Lucci might start experimenting with different hair care products and techniques, driven by a desire to match or surpass your beauty

He went so far to have a secret hair care night with khalifa and made her swear on her life to not tell a soul about it ,they spent basically gossiping while trying to do a hair care routine that khalifa though would help him

At some Lucci would come to accept that his partner's hair is naturally more beautiful than his own just because perhaps you have amazing genes and the lack of murder can give your hair good karma unlike his owm

This probably slightly bruise his ego, but he recognize and appreciate your unique beauty. He would understand that there are aspects of you that surpass his own perfection, and he would learn to embrace and celebrate that rather than feel threatened by it because after all ,you HIS girlfriend so you're basically adding to his perfection (this is how he is coping with this)

Overall, Lucci's reaction would be a mixture of competitiveness, silent admiration, and grudging acceptance because he loves you but he is envious that he can't be perfect in this aspect

He might ask you to spare with him so he can kick your ass and feel superior again,DO not accept it ,let him learn how to be a loser for once (maybe twice if it's after water 7 LMAO)

And perhaps that's how he had his glow up as a Cipher Pol 0 Agent

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #anonymous #one piece rob lucci #Rob Lucci #rob lucci headcanons #rob lucci x reader #owl talk #my beloved #rob lucci one piece #rob lucci #one piece cp0 #one piece cp9 #Cipher pol 0

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roeroe-world · 6 months

Text

her noah, his wiz.

starring: aka roxxie as yaya, method man as cassius

set in 1997.

warning: use of drugs and alcohol, profane language, detailed smut, adult situations, very long and lengthy scene ahead

The beauty of a black woman is unlike any other. Graced in different shades and sizes. Ebony skin crafted perfectly in the hands of God. Their creativity is unmatched. Trendsetters to the absolute max.

We’ve all heard the saying the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice… well, it’s absolutely true. Cassius is just one of many black men whom held the proof.

His woman, Yaya, is the perfect shade of brown. A true melanated queen, a head adorned with a crown. Whatever he wanted, she was down.

No-one could replace his girl. She’s his earth, his sun, the one. Yaya is his one and only true love, truly irreplaceable. They’ve had their ups and downs but still no other bitch could replace her.

“Aye, shorty? I’m home.” Cassius enters their home, after a long day of hustling and doing what he had to do to provide for his woman. He always made sure to make it home in one piece, never wanting his woman to worry about his whereabouts although she always did.

“I’m in here, baby!” Her sweet, Trinidadian and Queens accent meets his eardrums.

A familiar aroma exiting the kitchen invades his nostrils, he rubs his hands together, knowing whatever she cooked would be bomb. More than likely, she was cooking up a Caribbean dish.

Upon entering their spacious kitchen, the sight of his woman rocking blonde tresses nearly made him drool. She must’ve got her hair done today. He loves bright colors on her because it compliments her skin tone so well.

His shorty could rock braids, curls, a mullet, Bantu knots, anything, and she’d still look good. Yaya happened to be versatile with her looks which he adores. She wasn’t a basic bitch and she’s far from average.

The ebony woman stood unapologetically in her skin tone, a frame shaped like an hourglass, and a phat ass. In his eyes, nobody is on her level— not even actress, Halle Berry.

“Damn, who you looking this good for?” He envelopes his arms around her tiny frame, a firm grip on her plump bottom as his head dips into the crook of her neck. His pink lips planting sensual kisses along her soft skin.

His infamous scent of expensive cologne and weed dancing within her nostrils, making her feel right at home.

“You. As always.” She giggles, caressing his clothed back. “How was your day?”

“Same ‘ol shit.”

Yaya didn’t question him any further. She knew he was doing his thing in the streets.

Cassius slightly backs away to give her space to open the oven door, leaning against the island and scanning her frame closely through his Versace glasses. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

“So… Radiah and I went by Saks today and they had these fly ass high-heel boots. Baby, you should’ve saw ‘em— I mean, they had the cheetah print fur and leather.” Amongst opening the oven door, she sits the dish onto the table and removes the mittens off of her dainty manicured hands. “Then there was this purse. I think it was Prada or Dolce Gabbana. Bad.”

Reaching into the pocket of his baggy leather jacket, “How much money you need to go shopping?”

A bright smile creeps upon her glossy lips as she holds up her hand, showcasing the exact amount she wanted. Her dainty hand bending largely into the air.

Without a hesitation, Cassius chuckles, “I got you, baby.” He counts his cash and hands his woman a wad of money without wasting any time. Money isn’t a thing when it comes to spoiling his girl.

His wiz deserves the finer things in life.

“You always got me, baby.” She plants a loving kiss amongst his pink lips. Ain’t no nigga like the one she got.

1995. 1995 was the year, Cassius and Yaya first laid their dark brown orbs onto one another at Biggie’s concert. It was lust at first sight. A pretty face and a phat ass left him mesmerized but her aura left him hypnotized. Of course, she liked his roughneck look and thought he had it going on.

“What’s good, beautiful? I’m Cassius.” The brown dyed finger waves eccentuated her facial features. Her wine, red dress hugged her small figure as well as a pair of Jordan’s adorning her small feet.

He searched through the crowd to approach her, no longer focusing on the fact that one of his favorite rappers was performing on stage. Cassius was determined to talk to her, despite the rowdiness and ruckus occurring around them.

His hand outward for her to shake it which she does, scanning his being. His hair happened to be in a wild fro, dressed in baggy clothing and a fresh pair of Nikes. “Hello, Cassius. The name’s Yaya.” She definitely enjoyed the sight in front of her. “I’m guessing you want my number.”

Her accent caught him a bit off guard but instead he just grins, saying, “Yeah. If that’s cool with you.” She returns the grin, a grin that indicated that she was fucking with him.

For the rest of the show, they kicked it and remained in touch.

Despite the urges to want to pounce on him the moment they were finally alone for the first time, she made him work for it. Honestly, he loved every moment of it. ‘Cause it was worth it in the end. She’s worth it.

Here they were in 1997, still going strong. Cassius had been nothing short from a real nigga from the get go, fulfilling his promise to give her the world as he did. He treats her like a queen while keeping her laced in the finer things.

Despite possessing her own hard earned money, she has a man who could provide. A man whom she loves from his head to his toes. Who she’d ride for at any given moment.

He peers downward in her direction, grabbing a hold of Yaya’s left hand which held a large diamond rock on her fourth finger and intertwining their fingers, “Shit. I can’t wait to marry you.” The two staring onto one another passionately.

At times, she would often stare at her engagement ring, wondering if it was real or not. The stunning nine carat emerald cut diamond band adorned her left hand for the past four months.

New York City, it was pouring rain. The couple were enjoying their dinner at a popular luxurious restaurant in the city. Suddenly, their conversation transitioned into a heart to heart, expressing to one another how appreciative they were. But Cassius had more planned.

The palm of their hands connected as his thumb caressed the top of her hand, his raspy New York accent flowing within her eardrums. Their eyes never tearing away from one another.

“When you met me I ain’t have nothing and you didn’t have to fuck with me. But you did— no matter how much of a fucking handful I was. I wasn’t easy to deal with yet you remained solid. You stayed down, held a nigga down and helped mold me into the man I am today like no other woman could. You never folded when shit got tough and for that I ain’t got nothing but love and respect for you…”

He spoke truthfully, scanning her facial features and taking in her beauty. “Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you or replacing what you did. You keep it real. You all I ever wanted in a woman.” Cassius meant every single word. “We got history, shorty and knowing that—” The male reaches into his pocket and bends on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Instantaneously, her eyes bulged out of her head and she hops out of her seat without a hesitation. “Yes, Cassius, I’ll marry you!” Yaya’s high jet black ponytail bounced as she hops up and down in excitement similar to a child, smiling brightly.

A heartwarming grin amongst his pink lips, he slides the ring onto her finger and the moment he began to stand, she jumps into his arms. Their lips connecting passionately as if they were the only individuals in the establishment.

Yet, they had an entire audience, clapping and making sounds of approval for the couple.

“I can’t wait to marry you either.” Their lips connect yet again. “You hungry?” She began to make him a plate.

“Hell yeah.” He wastes no time responding, his arms enveloping her waist as he watched her.

————

The couple hopped out of Cassius’ Mercedes Benz, strolling hand in hand into the large home. Cassius’ homeboy, Derek, lived it up and hosted lavish parties. He didn’t seem to give a fuck about the white people in his neighborhood.

They could call five-o on him at any moment yet he still couldn’t care less. It’s his house and he pays the bills, no-one could tell him what to do with his household. He continued to throw parties damn near every weekend, plus, his house is big enough.

“Aye, what’s good, Cee?!” He greets his childhood friend, their hands clapping together while bringing one another in to clap the other’s back. “Ain’t shit. This piece jumpin’.” Cassius glances around the packed mansion, slightly nodding and rapping along to the music.

“Hey, Yaya. You look good.” Derek embraces the young woman into a friendly hug which she returns. “Hi, Derek.” He so happened to be one of the few of Cassius’ friends she actually liked.

Rap music played loudly, smoke clouded the house and women were everywhere. Mob Deep’s Quiet Storm Remix featuring Lil Kim blared throughout the speakers. It was live, for sure. Cassius and Yaya found themselves indulging in just a few drinks— more so Yaya, dancing together.

One thing about Yaya is she was going to have a drink or two or even three. She likes to drink and was already about to gulp down her fourth one.

Meanwhile, Cassius was on his third blunt of the day and only had one drink. He isn’t much of a drinker like Yaya happens to be. The only difference is he could function properly when intoxicated, she couldn’t. His baby is lightweight.

A lit blunt sat in between the male’s index and middle finger, shaking his head, “Aht, no more drinks for you, Yaya.” He garners the red cup from her hold and sits it onto a nearby table earning a pout. She couldn’t handle her liquor especially when she’s had too much to drink.

Irrational isn’t even the word to describe how she acted when often intoxicated. He didn’t like when she would drink, he never could.

“You are not my damn daddy.” Childishly, crossing her arms, Cassius doesn’t pay her actions any mind.

The smoke between his lips blows into her face carelessly, hitting her nostrils and eventually her blood stream. She’s not much of a smoker, opposed to Cassius. Though with the amount of smoke clouding her, she was already high as a kite and drunk.

His arms are lifted above his head, his tall frame swaying side to side, singing along to 112’s Cupid. Low red eyeballs piercing downward into hers as he sung the lyrics to the woman. “…And when I tell you I need you. Don’t you think that I’ll never be there, oooh,” It was so off key that the beauty found herself laughing. Her mood immediately shifting, giving into his antics.

Suddenly, she envelopes her arms around his neck and the couple began to sing off key together, even messing up a few of the lyrics along the way.

“True love won’t lie but you won’t know unless you give it try, give it try…” They sang in unison, cracking up at themselves for finishing the note terribly. “I’d rather die before I— before I lie to you,” Yaya’s other free hand swayed side to side while the other remained around his neck. “Never wanna leave, never wanna go, ah oooh— no, no, no, no, nooo, no ohh…”

Their failed attempt to hit the high note results in their laughter to double over. The woman pushes his face away playfully, claiming, “You fuckin’ up my song, nigga.” A mug present amongst her canvas.

Tossing his head backward, chuckling, his head lifts upward yet again as his tongue drags across his pink lips. “You not exactly a Mariah or a Whitney. Shit, you not even a Brandy, shorty.” She gasps in response at the insult, her stomach hurting from the amount of laughing she’d been doing all night.

“Fuck you.” The woman laughs uncontrollably.

Grinning goofily, Cassius forced his fiancée into his embrace and palms her backside. His head dipping into the crook of her neck to plant small pecks upon her skin, inhaling her sweet expensive perfume. He loves him some Yaya.

He enjoyed days like these ‘cause they weren’t always like this.

At times, they would beef for no reason. Yaya tends to get her moods and so does Cassius. They both collectively possess attitudes out of this world and at times their fights could be brutal, harsh. So it was important that the couple basked in the calmness and peacefulness, living in the moment.

They’re still very young individuals, trying to figure themselves and this thing called life out. In the midst of healing from childhood trauma, trying their absolute best to break generational curses. Not wanting to follow the same mistakes their parents made.

Though, at times, it could be unavoidable.

“Yo, Cee, let me whoop yo’ ass in pool.” That familiar raspy New York accent makes her roll her eyes. Exodus.

Cassius’ body no longer on hers and his attention averting to his homeboy, kissing his teeth playfully. “My bad for breaking up y’all little love session.” Exodus’ and Yaya’s eyes meet for a split second the moment she turns, looking him up and down quickly. “You don’t mind if I steal your cheatin’ ass nigga real quick to beat him in pool?” Despite her growing upset, she nods in approval anyways.

“Yeah, no. I don’t mind.” She and Cassius were enjoying their time together until he barged in for a game of fucking pool. Pathetic.

Chuckling, Cassius sends a loving peck to his woman’s lips, “I’ll be back, shorty.” Before leaving, his hand taps her plump backside that sat perfectly in her leather pants. “Nigga, I won that game fair and square. You just a sore loser. Fuck outta here— drinking fourties’ like it’s still the eighties or some shit.” He jokes on his friend while shoving him, the pair walking away alongside one another.

While her fiancé was gone, she decided to have another drink then came another one. As much as she was drinking, she had to use the bathroom. Upon completing what she needed to do, she found herself staring at herself in the mirror.

There she stood. Face made up to perfection with the compliments of MAC and Chanel. Expensive blonde tresses falling just below her backside. A long sleeved shirt that read Moschino in red and white letters. A pair of dark red leather pants crafted perfectly by well-known brand, Versace. As well as a pair of black heeled Chanel boots.

Her ears adorned in diamond earrings that read ‘C’ as well as an iced out chain sitting upon her breasts that spelled out her fiance’s name. Lifting her manicured left hand, the diamond band stares right back at her.

Honestly, Yaya couldn’t believe her life, at times. She’s had her fair share of boyfriends yet none of them amounted to her Cassius. Her noah.

She was with him when he had nothing, still trying to scrape and figure his finances out. Now they were living lavish, money was no longer an issue. Yaya could go shopping whenever she pleased; closet filled with designer bags, shoes, clothes, jewelry.

He promised her the world and everything in it, fulfilling every promise he made.

Despite how well he treated her and kept her looking nice, it can all go grow a bit overwhelming. Yaya wasn’t used to having nice things especially during her childhood.

She was born to an alcoholic mother and a crack fiend of a father whom sold their belongings for their own personal gain and habits. At times, she had to fend for herself, so it was really rough growing up.

Retail therapy became her best-friend now that she has the funds. But it wasn’t always that way. During her teenage years, alcohol became a friend of hers. That habit hadn’t seem to die since then.

Stumbling out of the spacious bathroom, she heads for the stairs while holding onto the ledge as much as she could. Her current state earned a few stares yet she continues on her way to the pool room.

Individuals surrounded the pool table, engulfed in the sight of Cassius and Exodus have a showdown. She joins the crowd, smiling slightly. Their game of pool seemed to be growing intense as Exodus threw a wad of cash onto the table, shouting, “Put your fuckin’ money where your mouth is, mothafucka.” A grin amongst his two-toned lips.

“You tryna play me again after I done beat yo’ ass for what the… second time?” He speaks arrogantly, popping his nonexistent collar several times.

Arrogance pouring over his fresh tall frame as he daps up a few individuals surrounding him. As he does so, Yaya couldn’t help to notice a trio of females standing behind him and cheering him on loudly. She didn’t like that shit, at all.

She wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover but they looked like hoes, dressed in the tightest and shortest outfits as if they didn’t live in New York and feel the 50 degree windy weather outside. They were definitely looking for the wrong attention, from the wrong person.

“What, nigga? Scared Im’ma beat you this time?” Exodus smirks.

“You know what? X wants the fuckin’ heat, Im’ma bring the fuckin’ heat. Let me spank that ass one good, last time.” Upon finishing his cocky comment, one of three women from the trio struts closer to Cassius and caresses his clothed back. A smile upon her bright face.

That was the last straw.

Yaya wastes no time to march to the scene, “Excuse me, yo?” She makes her presence known earning a plethora of stares. “Take your fuckin’ hands off my nigga.” Her tone rude and harsh, eyes piercing into the woman’s direction whom glances her upward and downward in confusion.

The mood in the entire room immediately shifts. “Who the fuck are you? First of all, I don’t even know you for you to be coming at me like that.” The woman does remove her touch but she was defensive, prepared to defend herself in any way shape or form.

“I’m his fiancée, bitch. Who the fuck is you?”

The minute the young woman began to get in her face is when Cassius intervened, he pulls Yaya into his embrace and shoves his woman behind his frame with a heavy sigh. “Both of y’all calm the fuck down. You…” He demands calmly, trailing off while planting his attention onto the angry unknown woman whom was trying to get closer to Yaya. “can back the fuck up.”

“Nah, ‘cause who she calling a bitch? Then this bitch got the nerve to come at me sideways about a nigga I ain’t even fuck? This hoe done lost her rabbit ass mind, yo.”

“Hoe?” Yaya chuckles drunkenly, foot tapping against the floor. “Look at you, bitch. Go find another nigga to give VD. But not this one. Learn to keep your fuckin’ stank ass hands to yourself. Point blank fucking period, yo.” Cassius shakes his head, sighing yet again.

This is the exact reason he didn’t want her drinking.

“Yo, I don’t know who you is but you making my girl feel some type of way so I’m gon’ ask you to walk away. Politely.” Cassius intervenes, preventing his woman from causing any harm. With the amount of liquor in her system? She would beat a bitch ass with no absolute hesitation.

The unknown woman tilts her head backward in offense, “Why the fuck I gotta leave? No disrespect, mothafucka, you ain’t my daddy. I was here first. It ain’t my fault yo’ bitch is insecure.” She was getting mad disrespectful with the mouth. Neither Cassius or Yaya was feeling it.

Cassius bit his tongue, knowing it held the power of making her cry. She didn’t deserve his energy. This broad was a nobody.

As much as a hothead Yaya happens to be, she attempts to reach over the tall male and lunge at the woman but fails. Eventually, grasping a pool stick and attempting to hit the woman with the item instead.

“Cassius? Let me go!” She shouts, more than prepared to fuck her up. In the midst of the madness, he remained calm and maintained his tight grip to block her from making any sudden movements.

“Aight, aight. Yo, you and your homegirls gotta get the fuck up outta here. Y’all sucking up the energy.” Derek overheard the commotion and decided to intervene, motioning the trio to the exit of his home.

“Fine. This shit was wack anyways. Girl, that nigga ain’t all that for you to be acting like a damn mental patient for.” The trio were on their way out the door, laughing loudly amongst themselves at what just took place a second ago.

Cassius shook his head angrily, “What type of fuckin’ nappy headed disrespectful ass broads you be invitin’ in here, man?” He quizzes his friend, connecting he and Yaya’s hands. “Yeah, nigga. We out.” Not only was Yaya upset, Cassius was too and just as much.

“Damn, nigga. Slow down.” She sends the male a harsh mug as he practically drags her out of the mansion by a tight grip on her hand.

Remaining silent is what he does because if he opened his mouth… Cassius would be bound to go off. He didn’t want to cause another scene in front of hundreds of people again.

Upon opening the passenger door for the young woman, shaking his head disappointingly, observing as she stumbled onto her seat. Her eyes search around, catching sight of the trio standing in front of Derek’s home, staring in the couple’s direction in pure hatred.

Childishly, she sticks out her tongue and flips all three of the women a bird before Cassius shuts the door behind her. He sends the trio an eye roll, strolling over to the driver side then opens his door, flipping the women off as well and hopping into his Benz.

————

Silence filled their two story home. Marijuana smoke clouding the living area. The light from the television being Cassius’ only source of light as he watches reruns of ‘Fresh Prince Of Bel Air’. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t say a word, just pure silence as he smoked his blunt.

Meanwhile, Yaya saunters down the steps after a much needed shower and hopping out of bed upon realizing her man wasn’t spooning her. “Baby?” No response. He’s clearly upset and she could tell, she could feel it.

“Cassius, I know you hear me talking to you.” She joins him on the couch, sending multiple pecks to the side of his face and neck. “Come to bed, papa.” Her chin leaning against his left shoulder, running her hand across his fresh fade adorned with his black durag.

Still, he gives her the silent treatment.

“Cassius?” She summons his name yet again.

“You got a problem.” He speaks for the first time in hours. Head planted to the television screen.

“What?” She quizzes in confusion, eyebrows furrowing together and moving away from him slightly.

“Your drinking is starting to get out of control.”

Instantly, her head tilts backward as her nose turns up as if he was speaking another language. What he said isn’t foreign at all. She understood every single word he spoke but that didn’t mean she isn’t offended.

“I’ve been drinking since I was thirteen, Cassius. I’m a grown ass woman and I can handle my damn liquor.”

Shaking his head, “That’s the issue.” Kissing her teeth, she began to speak until it was too late. “You been like that since I met you. I ain’t notice it then but I’m seeing it through now. It’s cool to have a drink every once in awhile but you… you have a couple drinks then another few drinks, eventually the whole bottle.” He began acknowledging his observations over the years, no longer ignoring them.

Now that they were getting married, a lot of issues couldn’t go unaddressed.

“You stressed? Are you stressed about the wedding? What’s going on? Talk to me.” Taking a pull from his blunt, Yaya observes him before scoffing. He had some nerve to try to point out her ‘issues’ as if he doesn’t have any.

“I want to marry you. That’s a no brainer but you’re trying to claim I’m the one with the habit here, yet you smoke weed twenty damn times a fuckin’ day.”

Suddenly, Cassius began to choke on the smoke as a laugh of disbelief clawed its way through his throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe she was trying— no she wasn’t even trying. She’s flipping this shit on him completely.

“Yo, what?” He starts, “I ain’t the one who spazzed on some broad tonight. Just saying.” His hands go up in the air for a second, blunt between his lips.

“That bitch was touching you without permission. I had every right to react the way I did. Meanwhile, you and Exodus were too busy having a dick swinging contest—”

“Aight, aight, aight, baby. I ain’t arguing with yo’ ass tonight. We all got problems that not even money can solve. I love you enough to call you out on your shit. So, let’s leave it at that.” He shrugs, continuing to smoke his blunt without any absolute shame. “And ain’t nothing wrong with weed. It’s an herb. Word.” She sends him an eye roll, plopping her back against the couch.

Similar to a broken record, tonight’s events starts replaying in her head. From the moment the couple arrived and left, her drinking in between their time there. She hadn’t even realized it as she mindlessly poured as many cups as she could the moment her fiancé waltzed off with Exodus.

Yaya knew he would have stopped her like he did prior before leaving her by her lonesome, thinking he was just being bossy and controlling. In reality, he was aware of her dangerous habit yet she didn’t realize it herself.

Her mother was in denial. Her father was in denial. Yet where did their habits lead them? To the grave.

Tears cascades along her cheeks and as much she attempts to hold them back, she couldn’t. She was still drunk and when she’s under the influence, she’s extremely dramatic and overly emotional. But these tears… weren’t just any tears or her being downright dramatic. These were tears for her parents.

The tears she didn’t cry at neither of their funerals.

“I apologize for embarrassing you, papa.” She cries softly and he wastes no time to embrace the woman, his blunt being the least of his worries and now sitting into the ashtray for later.

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, baby.” He sends a peck to her forehead as she melts into his arms, loving this side of him. She wished her father would embrace her this way.

One of Cassius’ nicknames happened to be Papa. He accepted her for who she is, never sought out to change her and loved her unconditionally. He’s also more than fully equipped to be a daddy; financially, emotionally, physically, and mentally.

Out of all of the men she’s ever been romantically involved with, Cassius’ also known as Papa handled her with care and picked her up when she was down. Never once neglected her like the other men had, like her father had.

He’s her noah, alright.

Lifting her head, she looks him in the eye, “I love you.” She meant it. “I love you to the moon and back for putting up with me the way you do and to this day I don’t know how. You never left my side and I’m so grateful for a man like you.”

“And I ain’t never leaving you. It’s you and I till the day we die.” Her eyes were watery, sniffling as she gave him her undivided attention while he spoke. “I love that big brain inside of this dome of yours. I love these pretty eyes. I love this pretty nose…” He taps the bridge of her nose. “I love these pretty lips,” His thumb trailing across her soft lips before leaning in to plant two pecks amongst the pair.

“I love this body. Inside and out. Never stop being who you are ‘cause I love every part of you, from your flaws— your imperfections. You got my heart.”

“You got my heart.” She replies with a smile, whispering close to his lips and connecting them yet again. This union more passionate than the last.

“Damn. I love you.” He speaks within their kiss, climbing on top of the woman.

Suddenly, Yaya disconnects their lip-locking and turns on her stomach while lifting her purple lace thigh-length night gown to reveal her bare plump bottom. Her top row of pearly whites embeds into her bottom lip the moment he sends a rough smack to her backside.

At this point, they were completely bare and exposed. Cassius fills her up with his curved phallus, the couple moaning softly at the sensation of one another. They felt right at home. No matter how many times they made love, they never got tired of one another.

His firm grip on each side of her waist tightened so she couldn’t run, not that she would anyway. Yaya always took him like a pro and never complained about his large size. She handled it whenever and however she desired while making him feel good on the same accord.

The side of her canvas smushed into the arm of the leather couch, mouth wide open, eyelids fluttering from the sensation of Cassius’ dick driving in and out of her passionately yet slowly. His chest pressed against her back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Oh, shit.” She moans aloud, french tip mid-length acrylics raking through his facial hairs. Her nectar dripping along his member and pelvic area. “Faster, papa…” Her tone pleads and he does as requested, speeding up his pace yet making sure she felt everything.

Yaya’s jaw drops as her body is being shoved back and forth alongside each stroke. Ecstasy pouring within her veins, lips shaking while crying out through the pleasure and pain. Blonde tresses falling out of its ponytail, wildly covering the woman’s face. Meanwhile, Cassius was focused on pleasuring his fiancée.

The gripping, the tugging, the wetness, the way her ass clapped as she threw it back on him; Cassius was in ecstasy too.

His top row of pearly whites digs into his bottom lip, grabbing a hold of her hair and forcing her head backward. Their eyes connecting, both jaws agape. “How much you love this dick?” Her eyebrows furrow together yet again, eyelids shutting while her pink tongue drags across her lips.

“I…” She began only to take a pregnant pause the moment his free hand comes into contact with her throbbing center, rubbing in circles. “Mm,” A pent up sensation creeps amongst her. “Cassius—” The young woman couldn’t contain her juices, squirting due to overstimulation.

“Mhm.” He encourages her, continuing his actions which would ultimately drive her up the wall. “I asked you a question, baby.”

“I love this dick…” She whimpers weakly, biting down on her lip.

Suddenly, Cassius’ switches their position so that his back is against the couch while the woman is on top of his lap. Face to face. Her arms enveloping his neck, bare hourglass frame moving up and down passionately. They were freeing their minds, finding themselves moaning and groaning. His hands palming and sending multiple smacks to her backside on several occasions.

They couldn’t keep their eyes off of one another with the exception of tossing their head backwards or shutting their eyelids for a second.

For a sharp moment, Yaya slides his soaked member out of her wetness and taps it against her center before squirting once more. A loud, pornographic moan falling from her lips as she returns him to his rightful position. Her gushiness and wet skin clapping making a track of its own.

“Look what you do to me, papa.” Her dainty hands caressing his chest, referring to the wetness she possessed. She was perfectly crafted in God’s hands.

“Damn, shorty.” Her fiance speaks in disbelief and pure arousal, hands trailing across her breasts then her flat stomach and eventually her throbbing center. “Fuck, I love this pussy…” His tone low, full of lust and desire. “What did I do to deserve you?”

The thought of the two getting married crosses his mind, envisioning his woman in a beautiful white gown trailing down the flower decorated aisle. A smile etched upon her captivating face as their brown irises remained onto one another’s.

Their honeymoon in Trinidad like they planned. Kids.

His touch trails amongst her belly, their faces barely an inch from one another, “This where our babies gon’ grow. Fuck…” His jaw drops, feeling his orgasm approaching. “Damn, you fuckin’ amazin’.” Not only is she the bomb in general but so is her pussy.

The hole is fit for his size, popping and snapping at him because as Yaya would say ‘she loves him’. Cassius’ believed her from the moment they first made love due to how she reacted and he didn’t even need to touch it.

“All this for me, shorty?” His tongue dragging across his lips, low gaze peering a hole into the woman’s being.

“Mhm.” She hums, hips moving in a circular motion. “This your pussy, papa.” Planting a loving peck amongst his lips.

“Yeah, I know. You ain’t gon’ give my shit away, right?” He began forcing her body up and down, snatching the breath out of her while staring into her soul. Though, he’s been snatching her soul the entire time.

“Never… fucking never… ah,” A plethora of whimpers falling behind her response shortly after. “Ouu, Cee, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“Mhm, let that shit go.” And so she did. Unraveling amongst him as he did, inside of her, ensuring that every drop entered her warm walls. “Good girl.” He praises her with a groan, planting sensual kisses along her neck.

“Shit, I love you.” The young woman connects their lips into a passionate union, panting heavily.

“I love you.” He speaks, continuing to stare in the direction of his fiancée under his almost squinty eyes and perfectly curled eyelashes. His gaze low, completely underneath her spell.

“Let’s go again in the shower, yeah?” Happily, she garners enough strength to pull him off of the couch and lead him upstairs. He mindlessly followed. Yeah, she has him sprung.

#black love #black men #90s #black women #romance #method man #smut #black female face claims #black female characters

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