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#and these past few days that I've been taking it I fight for my life
devilsharm · 1 year
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*Walks in holding watermelon juice* I. Uh. Hi
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arataka-reigen · 10 months
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You know, sometimes when you reach a low that is lower than your previous lows, that is when you realize you need to change your life and get some help
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feluka · 4 months
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"How many of you have ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.
But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.
But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.
When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.
And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.
Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.
Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.
In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.
So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"
So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.
Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.
She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".
So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.
And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.
Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.
The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.
To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."
-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.
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bet-on-me-13 · 8 months
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The First Supervillain
So! A Typical "Early Start" AU where the events of The Show happen early in the Timeline. Like, in the 70's or 80's.
Danny never quite managed to fix his Public Perception, and even years into his career people still saw him as the Villain.
Coincidentally Valerie was seen as a Hero because of how often they were seen fighting. Even after they revealed their Identities and got together, they still had the occasional Battle. It was their love language.
His role as the Villain was Cemented when Pariah launched his Second Invasion of Earth after some dumbass accidentally freed him, and Danny took the Blame for it. Instead of being seen as the Hero who battled Pariah and stopped the Invasion, he was seen as the Tyrant to launched the Invasion in the first place, with Red Huntess being the one to defeat him in one final Ultimate Battle.
And honestly? He was fine with that. Now that he was the King of the Ghost Zone, he had the Authority to Regulate the Portal so villains stopped getting through. And that meant that he wasn't needed to stop random Ghost Attacks anymore. He could finally focus on College and his own Life, instead of sacrificing everything to act as the Protector of the Human Realm.
Val continued to be a Hero for a few more years, eventually retiring when it became Clear that the new generation of Heroes could pick up the Slack.
He went to College, got a Job as an Aerospace Engineer, and eventually proposed to Valerie.
About 20 years since his initial Accident, and he was doing great! He had moved into a humble home on the edge of town with his loving wife Val, his beautiful daughter Ellie, and his cute dog Cujo.
Yeah, life was good.
Until the day Danny accidently caused a Mass Crisis.
...
Superman was having some extreme trouble in dealing with his current Opponent. He had just been flying around the City, patrolling as Usual, when all of a sudden he had been attacked by a Flying Mech Suit.
At first he had assumed that Lex was giving it another Go, but he quickly realized that was not the case when the Armor seemed to Phase though solid matter in the middle of the battle. Lex had never made Tech advanced enough to do that on the fly.
This opponent was tough too. Strong enough and Durable enough to go blow for blow with him, and seemingly able to pull Advanced Weaponry from out of nowhere whenever he wanted. As tough as it was to admit, Superman as losing the Battle.
Then, without warning, the battle stopped. His opponent was staring at the space just behind him, with a look of pure dread. He turned around, and his heart stopped.
Floating behind him, staring right past him and directly at the Mech Suit, was the First Villain Phantom.
He looked much the same as when he had last been seen, although he was definitely Older. He had snow white hair, and glowing green eyes that seemed to stare right past him and into his very soul. He was wearing what seemed to be a costume of sorts, with an all black suit, white gloves, and white boots. Over his Shoulders sat a Cloak made of Stars, and above his head sat a Crown made of an Icy Blue Fire.
The Mech tried for a greeting, "Er- Hello t-Lord Phantom. How do you d-"
"Skulker."
"Y-yes?"
"What are you doing here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to stay in the Ghost Zone until further notice. You disobeyed me."
"Okay look. I got excited, that's my fault. It's just, I got anxious waiting. Can you really blame me? I've been waiting 20 years to take another Crack at the Human World, what's it matter if I left a few weeks Early?"
"I told you. You were supposed to wait exactly 20 Years, and you left Early. This calls for punishment."
"No wait!"
"Let's see how you feel after a few days as Soup."
The Villain pulled out a Thermos, and in a flash of green light, Skulker was gone, and the King was capping the Thermos. He then turned to Superman.
"I apologize for him, he decided to leave ahead of schedule." The King addressed him. "Now, Kryptonian. Rest and tend to your wounds, you will need to be in your best health if you want to continue saving the lives of those people below us."
With a dramatic flare, the King reached up and Tore a hole in Space. Through the Hole, Superman could only see an infinite Green Void, with the sound of screams cheering being heard through the rift.
The King departed through the Tear in Spacetime, and it closed behind him.
Superman tried to collect himself, and activated his League Emergency Comms.
"Attention All Founding Members, and Justice League Dark Members. This is Superman calling for an immediate Emergency Meeting."
He took a deep breath.
"Phantom is Back."
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radishaur · 16 days
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✩ side by side ✩
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Warnings: mentions of a slight injury in Luffy's part, semi-Wano spoilers and jealousy in Law's part Genre: fluff Characters: Luffy, Zoro, & Law Summary: How they realize they have feelings for you (quality time edition) Author's Note: Here's the next part of the series! I'm working on a master list, so the link will be here when I finish it! I tried to keep the reader's personalities the same as before so I hope they give off the same vibe. masterlist
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Luffy loves spending time with his crew, whether aboard the Sunny or on whatever island you've landed on.
He's always goofing off and taking whatever crew member is unlucky enough to get stuck with him on his adventures. But, there are very few people he would sit silently with. Luffy is a ball of energy and I think being able to spend time with you in comfortable silence would cause him to have an aha moment.
~
Life is always crazy on the Sunny. It's one of Luffy's favorite things about his adventures and his crew, who constantly entertain his antics.
But sometimes, like today, they get a break. The water is calm as can be, there's not an enemy in sight, and the next island is days away so there's nothing for him to do except wait. Normally on days like this, he gets up to his usual Luffy shenanigans, whether it be causing a fight or getting everyone involved in some silly game, but this time it's different. This time, you're injured.
You're normally the first person to engage with him, entertain whatever stupid idea he comes up with much to the chagrin of the rest of the crew, but today he knows that's not an option. You'd been cut pretty badly during their last island visit after taking a hit for Chopper. He was getting overwhelmed and before any of the other crew members could react, you had jumped in the way, taking the slash right to your stomach.
The injury wasn't life-threatening, but it was severe enough that it needed stitches and Chopper had ordered you to rest over the next couple of days. You were recovering quickly, but you hadn't been able to get out of bed yet, so you'd been in the girl's shared room for the past few days.
He sighed, resigning himself to a boring day when he heard the doors to the deck open. He brightened up, thinking it was Sanji with his lunch, but was surprised to see that it was you instead. His heart flipped at the sight and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He called your name excitedly and was about to slingshot himself to you when he saw the bandages wrapping your stomach and stopped himself.
Instead, he runs over to you as the rest of the crew notices your arrival and comes to greet you as well. "You're finally up! I'm glad you're ok," he exclaimed, hugging your shoulders tightly. You huffed a laugh, hugging him back as some of the crew joined in.
"What are you doing up?" Chopper asks, running over from where he was relaxing to fuss over you. "You're supposed to be in bed recovering!"
"I've been relaxing. I wanted to come out and spend time with everyone," you huff, pouting slightly as everyone breaks the hug.
"She looks fine to me!" he says, laughing as he finally releases you and allows Chopper the space to look at your bandages.
Chopper scolds him as he continues checking your bandages and after a few moments, he pulls back, seemingly satisfied that you hadn't reopened your wound. Regardless, Chopper says, "You shouldn't have gotten out of bed! Just take the time to recover and relax."
"I will recover, I just missed being out here. I want to feel the breeze and the sun on my skin. Can't I relax out here?" you plead. Chopper thinks for a moment before finally relenting. "Fine, but be careful!" Chopper insists.
Satisfied, you start catching up with the rest of the crew about what you missed over the past few days. Sanji brings out special drinks and food while you spend time with everyone out on the deck for a while. Eventually, everyone breaks off to go back to their own activities and you make your way over to Luffy.
"You're being suspiciously calm," you say, a slight tease in your voice as you ask him, "What are you planning?"
He laughs, glad to hear your jokes again after so long without them before he answers, "Nothing! You've got to recover, so I have to be on my best behavior."
Your eyes widen a bit at his answer like you hadn't been expecting it, but then you smile. "That's very un-Luffy-like of you."
He catches up with you for a few moments before he notices how tired you look. You're talking with him eagerly, but he can see you struggling to keep your eyes open as sleep calls for you.
"You're tired," he says bluntly. "You should rest."
You frown, seemingly frustrated with yourself for being exhausted already as you say, "But I haven't spent any time with you." That makes his heart flip and he doesn't have the heart to send you back to your room to sleep.
He frowns too for a moment before an idea comes to him, and he takes your hand. "I have an idea, come on!" he says, pulling you behind him as he leads you towards the front of the ship.
He stops near the figurehead of the Sunny, extending his arms to pull himself up and then carefully reaching back down for you. He's extra careful as he hoists you up next to him and even more careful as he settles you next to him, making sure that he's supporting your weight and that his arms are around you in case you slip.
"You can just sleep here with me! That way, you get your rest and we can still hang out," he explains, satisfied with himself for his genius idea.
"Are you sure? That doesn't sound very fun for you," you ask.
"I always have fun with you!" he answers earnestly, smiling as he says, "Just relax and I'll take care of you."
He sees you visibly relax, whether it's from his words or just the exhaustion slowly taking over you, he can't tell, but you relax all the same. He feels his heart rate pick up slightly as you shuffle closer to him to lay your head down on his shoulder and mumble a thank you under your breath.
After a few minutes, when you're still moving around and trying to sleep, he starts to sing softly. Usually, he sings without a care in the world, but this time he finds himself trying to stay on pitch as much as possible. It's not long before you finally fall asleep, but he keeps singing for a while longer just to make sure.
He spends the next few hours holding you as you sleep next to him. He was expecting this to be hard, thinking that he would be restless and itching to just move around or talk to someone, but surprisingly he finds he's content to stay here with you. Watching you sleep next to him makes him happy in a way that's hard for him to describe. He meant it earlier when he said it was always fun with you, no matter what you were doing, and he finds himself thinking about it more.
By the time you wake up, at night as Sanji calls out that dinner is ready, he's figured out what it is that he's feeling. He thinks that he's always known, what with how he gravitates towards you, and now he just has a name for it. He helps you down from the Sunny's head and follows you inside, now hyper-aware of every time he touches you and how it makes his heart burst. For the next few days, he takes you up to the Sunny's figurehead to rest, reveling in the peace you bring him by simply being around him as he figures out what to do about his newly discovered feelings.
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Zoro is a straightforward person when it comes to how he spends his time. He does what he wants to when he wants to.
He's willing to engage in whatever silly antics the crew has, but he also prioritizes his dream and the training it takes to get there. I think for him, spending quality time with him that shows how well you fit into his life, and how you support him, that's what would make him come to terms with his feelings.
~
The crow's nest is like Zoro's personal haven. He knows that technically its purpose is not as his training or nap room, but other than being on watch, almost nobody ever uses it. He'd been training on the deck below when Luffy had started one of his stupid games that broke the whole ship out into chaos and he realized that if he wanted to get anything done, he needed to move, so here he was.
It had been almost an hour, and he'd been able to train completely uninterrupted—until he heard a knock on the door.
"Go away, Luffy! I'm not playing your stupid game," he shouts, lifting his weights.
The door swings open anyway and he almost yells again until he looks over at who's coming in and sees that it's you. "It's not Luffy, don't worry," you say with a slight tease in your voice. "Mind if I stay?"
He sees a few books in your hand and decides that if you're just going to be reading, he doesn't mind the company. "Fine, but don't get in my way."
He goes back to his weights and you make yourself comfortable on the bench that lines the crow's nest. You set two of your books beside you on the bench and pick up the largest one to start reading. He looks at the cover absently as he's lifting and reads the title. He doesn't really understand what the words mean, but he knows enough to recognize that you must be studying something regarding your dream.
He trains like this for another 30 minutes, nothing but the mumble of his counting and the shuffle of pages to fill the air. After a while, he decides to switch to push-ups, so he drops the weight down on the ground, causing you to start slightly.
"Jeez. It's a wonder that the crow's nest is still intact," you laugh, mostly to yourself. He still hears you and shoots you a half-hearted glare that you don't catch, already reimmersed in your book.
He starts his push-ups, starting with both arms as a warm-up and then switching to one for the main event, but he quickly realizes that's not enough. He looks at the surrounding weights and almost considers putting them on his back for the extra weight before he reconsiders. While he's strong, he knows his limit and he doesn't want to break his back and send Chopper into hysterics. He almost gives up on the idea until he hears a page flip to his right.
He calls your name and you pause, looking up from your book to regard him. "I have a favor to ask," he says, stopping his push-ups for a moment to speak to you. "I need some extra weight on me for these push-ups, but these weights are way too much. Can you sit on my back?"
"Sure."
He's surprised at how easy that was, no complaints or promises of a return favor later needed to coerce you. You stand up, bringing your book with you as you make your way over. He lowers himself onto the floor and lets you climb onto his back. You settle into a criss-cross on his back and when he's sure that you're stable, he lifts himself up. Other than a slight jostle, you stay put on his back, so he begins his workout.
The added weight is exactly what he needed to get his blood pumping. He's still going one-handed, but now he's focusing on not letting you drop and supporting your extra weight. He also finds that he has a slight fluttering in his chest every time he feels you move slightly on his back, but he thinks that maybe that's just a side effect of the new strain.
You don't say much, still ingrained in your reading, and he finds that he appreciates how much you've respected his request. He knows that you tend to talk slightly while reading, something about it helping you process better, but you've been totally silent aside from your one snide remark. He feels a little bad and decides that since you've been so helpful, he'd try and help you back.
"So, what is it that you're reading about?" he asks, huffing slightly at the extra effort it takes to talk with you on his back.
Even though he can't see you, he can practically feel how vibrantly you light up at the question. You begin explaining to him exactly what it is that you've been reading and how it relates to your goals. He begins to relax slightly as you keep explaining, the conversation taking his mind off of the strain.
You begin talking for quite a while and besides the occasional question from him here and there, he lets you talk. He's surprised to find that he doesn't mind the noise and actually enjoys it. His skin feels warm all over at the admission and he blames it on the extra body heat from you.
As you're explaining, he realizes that he's missed the last few seconds of what you've said. You pause slightly before asking, "Sorry, I'm rambling. I should let you focus."
"'s fine," he assures, steadying his breath before continuing, "It's a nice distraction, so keep talking."
He's pleased when you giggle, sending flutters off in his stomach once again, and continue explaining. You keep explaining while he works out and while the concepts are mostly lost on him, he wants to show that he's listening so he asks a question about something that doesn't make sense to him.
He's not expecting you to lay down flush with his back and reach your hands over in front of his face. He falters slightly as you point at a diagram on one of the pages that he guesses is supposed to answer his question.
"Right there," you breathe, your face so close to his ear that the puff of warm breath brushes his ear.
He feels his arm give out as his face heats up at a rapid pace as his mind twists your words and proximity into an entirely different context. You stay mostly put on his back as he falls onto the ground, groaning slightly as he completely cushions your fall. You immediately move back into a sitting position, taking your book and your warmth with you, and apologize once again with a giggle.
"I guess I should probably warn you first before moving, huh?"
"Fucking idiot," he mumbles under his breath, eliciting another small laugh from you as it doesn't quite have the heat he wanted it to. "Stay still, woman."
You apologize again, but continue to explain the last bit you had been reading. He's glad you can't see his face from where you're sitting on his back, or he's sure you'd be able to see just how embarrassed he is by how red his face has gotten.
The rest of the workout is uneventful. You finish your explanation and he lets you read quietly while he finishes his last few sets, the light twisting feelings still curling in his gut. Eventually, he finishes his push-ups and he lets you get off of him. You spend the rest of the day with him up in the crow's nest, long after the shenanigans on the deck have ended, but he doesn't mind.
The room is once again filled with only the sounds of your pages and his movements, but this time his mind is too busy trying to figure out what the hell the feeling in his gut is to appreciate it. He's halfway through the next set of his workout when everything clicks and he's glad that he's facing away from you because he can feel his whole face heat up all the way to the tips of his ears.
Over the next few days, he finds that he seeks out your presence more, whether it's working out, visiting the town, or even sleeping on the deck. His body betrays him every time you guys brush past each other and at this point, he's surprised that you haven't noticed as most of the crew has. When it gets to the point where he begins missing your presence by his side whenever you're too busy or preoccupied to spend time with him while he trains or whatever he's doing, he realizes just how deep these feelings for you go.
"I'm so fucked."
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Law likes to keep a certain degree of separation between him and everyone else.
He trusts his crew, but he also likes his space so I think opportunities for him to realize his feelings through quality time are far and few between. However, some social situations like a celebration would call for his presence and I think the two of you getting to slip away and have a quiet moment would make him realize his feelings.
~
Law has never particularly liked parties.
Unfortunately for him, he chose to create an alliance with someone who treats every day like a celebration and his own crew is not one to turn down an excuse to party. Their business in Wano is finally done and the alliance should be over, he declared it so as well, but he has a feeling he's too far in if Strawhats response is anything to go by.
Now, the Strawhats and his own crew were celebrating their victory with a giant banquet. They had been eating, dancing, and drinking for a few hours at this point and it showed no signs of stopping.
"Come on Tora-o," Luffy said, bouncing on his feet in front of him as he whined. "Join the party!"
Law huffed from his spot leaning against a tree on the outskirts of the party as some of his crewmembers nearby heard the nickname and started laughing. "I'm not dancing, Strawhat-ya," he responded, sending a glare off to his crewmembers that sent them scattering.
Luffy was about to pester him more until someone called his name and he went bounding into the crowd. He watched him disappear, taking another sip of his drink, and returned to people-watching. He saw Zoro and Nami, presumably in some kind of drinking contest if the amount of empty bottles was any indication. They had a few onlookers, Usopp and some of his crew egging them on. He saw Sanji cooking up a storm, Bepo and Chopper having an animated discussion about who knows what, and then his eyes landed on you.
He wishes now for some reason that he had taken Strawhat up on the offer to dance. You're laughing with Ikkaku and Strawhat as he dances, pulling you along with him.
He watches him pick you up and jump around as Ikkaku hoots and hollers and you laugh, looking at Luffy like he hung the very stars in the sky. It makes his stomach ache and he thinks the noise and commotion of the party is finally getting to him.
He pushes off the tree, downing the final swig of his drink, and makes his way back to the Polar Tang that's docked not far away. He makes his way onto the deck and stops to lean against the railing. He's close enough to the celebration that he can still hear the music faintly and there's a warm glow cast onto the sub from the bonfire, but far enough away that he can breathe a little easier.
He leans his head back slightly, letting himself get lost in the music in an attempt to relax but he finds himself still thinking of you and Luffy. He thinks he's hearing things when he hears your voice calling his name until he can see you making your way towards him.
You're smiling as you make your way onto the Polar Tang and lean against the railing next to him. He can smell the bonfire on you with how close you're standing to him, but he doesn't move.
"Finally get tired of the party?" you ask, looking over at him.
He nods, breaking his gaze away from you, and looks back out over the ocean. "I don't like parties," he answers, feeling the tips of his ears flush at the admission. You have the audacity to laugh at him, which only causes him to scowl as his embarrassment spreads to his cheeks.
"I know, Captain. You always stay on the outskirts," you respond, following his gaze as you add, "I needed a break too. Luffy's got a lot more energy than I do."
The mention of Luffy sends that same ugly feeling off in his stomach and he frowns. "You looked like you were having fun," he says, his voice dry. He doesn't understand where this feeling is coming from, but he tells himself it's just his general annoyance with Strawhat.
"I was. Luffy's a lot of fun..." you reply, making the feeling in his gut worsen. "But I need some time to relax too. When I noticed you were gone I figured you must have needed some peace and quiet, so I decided to come find you."
"You don't have to check on me," he says, letting his eyes flick over to your face for a moment.
You laugh again, soft and carefree in a way that makes his heart flutter before you respond. "I know I don't have to check on you. I just wanted your company, if I'm allowed to stay."
He doesn't respond right away, unsure of what to say. You look up at him after a few moments and he finally huffs, "Do what you like."
He can feel his ears burn as he breaks eye contact, but you don't laugh at him this time. Instead, you smile and settle in, seemingly content to sit here in silence with him all night. The music and the lull of the ocean are the only sounds. He surprises himself when he's the one to break the silence by asking, "Where did you learn to dance?"
You seem surprised by his question, but you recover quickly. "I never took any lessons. It's kind of just something I picked up by doing it. I just tried to copy what everyone else around me was doing," you answer, smiling to yourself before asking, "Do you know how to dance?"
He grimaces slightly at the question, but keeps his expression as neutral as he can as he says, "No." You don't seem surprised by his answer, but you don't move on from the subject as he expects you to. Instead, you seem to perk up as you turn to face him.
"Maybe I can teach you?" you propose.
At this he scowls, wrinkling his nose and looking at you like you just asked him to jump into the ocean and have a swim.
"Come on, I promise I'm a great teacher," you beg, pushing yourself up from the railing so that you're standing right next to him. "There's nobody else around, so now is the perfect time to learn. Nobody can make fun of you."
Normally, under any other circumstances, he would immediately refuse again, more forcefully to really get the point across, but he finds himself wanting to say yes. He wrestles with the idea for a few more moments before he sighs and stands up at his full height. He doesn't even get to reply before you grab his hand and pull him into the middle of the deck.
You explain to him that to start, you'll take it easy on him. All he has to do is hold your hand and help you along with your movements. It'll be less him dancing and more him just guiding you. He finds himself remembering how you danced with Strawhat, how free and happy you looked, and the feeling that curls around his heart makes him want to prove himself.
"I think I understand," he says, stepping closer with a new burning determination. "Let's try it."
You step closer, hesitating for a moment before grabbing his hand and beginning to dance. He tries his best to match your pace and you don't say anything the few times he messes up, simply continuing to dance and letting him figure it out. Eventually, he starts to pick it up as he lets himself relax and get out of his head. You're smiling now as you compliment him. "There you go! You're a natural."
He feels something hot and possessive grip his heart and before he can think better of it, he steps closer and mimics the way Strawhat was holding you earlier. You seem just as surprised as him at his sudden move, but you reciprocate quickly, starting to dance more with him than just around him.
He watches you with his heart thumping wildly in his chest as you fix him with a similar look to the one you gave Strawhat. It's free and happy and filled with admiration, but there's something more to it that makes his heart stop. He stomps down the feeling and continues to dance with you until the song stops. You break away first and he feels his cheeks heat up slightly as he realizes that he's still looking at you.
"You're a good teacher," is all he gets out before the next song starts.
He spends the rest of the night talking with you and ignoring the growing feeling in his stomach. By the time the celebration finally ends and people start making their way back to their respective ships, the sun is painting the sky a dark orange on the horizon as it starts to ascend and he realizes that the two of you must have been talking for hours.
Eventually, you both get tired and he finally heads to bed. Alone with his thoughts, he realizes just how much he enjoyed the celebration this time around. That fuzzy feeling is still alight in his chest and he can't help but hope that he gets another opportunity to dance and talk with you. It doesn't take him long to realize what he's feeling.
He acts like nothing has changed, he has to be professional after all, but he does make more excuses to talk to you or to have to spend time together. Each time he does, that feeling grows worse and worse and he knows he's in too deep.
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ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 
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Say it
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Pairing: RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader
Summary: After coming back from Spain, Leon has been acting distant. You think seeing a face from the past has messed with his feelings, and he wants to prove you that is not the case.
Takes place after the events of re4 remake, mentions the events of RE2 remake as well
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), p in v, creampie, choking, praise kink, soft dom leon, he talks you through it, they're both just desperate for each other, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, language, established relationship
WC: 4.4k
A/N: I've been thinking about this mf ever since I played the remake. So I wrote this self indulgent piece of filth. This is my first time writing for him so pls be kind. Enjoy :)
You can also read this over at Ao3 (but pls still reblog and shit here thank u)
Leon Kennedy Masterlist
Creds of gift above to this tumblr
Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
You knew you had no right to be upset, not when you knew damn well what he went through. Or more so, you didn’t actually know what he went through, so you couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through his head right now. But still, you knew something else was in his head, and it wasn’t just the horrors he had to deal with to come back alive from Spain. There was something else in his mind. You knew it.
This silence, it was killing you. Leon wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, not after Raccoon City, but for the better part of a decade, you learned to be comfortable with his silence. Right now though, you just felt uncomfortable.  
“Want me to pour you one?”
Oh he speaks.
You lifted your head from the pile of papers on your lap at the sound of his voice, you saw him standing in front of the small cabinet where he kept all of his alcohol, glass and bottle of expensive whiskey in hand. You half smiled at him and shook your head. 
“Not right now, thank you.” You watched him shrug in response and take a long sip of his glass, before he walked over to join you on the couch. But he sat on the opposite end.
You frowned a bit when he sat so far, but you chose to not comment on it and instead brought your attention back to your paper. A good five minutes went by, and you had made zero improvements, you hadn't even picked up the pen again, so Leon spoke again.
“How’s the paper coming along?” He asked with a clear of his throat as he sat back, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him and his head was turned in your direction.
You sighed heavily, “It’s not. I can’t for the life of me come up with the right words.” You groaned softly as you threw your head back and rubbed your tired eyes.
You were in the same place you were a little less than a week ago, when Leon left to find Ashley Graham in the middle of nowhere Spain, not knowing if you’d ever see him again or not. You couldn’t even sleep, or eat, let alone focus on a paper. And although Leon was now home, alive, you were still preoccupied. 
“And that is exactly why I dropped out.” 
“This is a Phd program, not my second year of undergrad. Undergrad was nowhere near as bad as this.” You snorted softly and shot him a look. He gave you an annoyed look knowing you were teasing him. “Besides, what you do is way worse than some paper. Fighting weird cults and bioweapons or whatever they’re called.”
“Yeah..” He scoffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t humorous. His expression quickly turned serious as he looked down at his lap. You could see the way his grip tightened the slightest bit around his glass and his jaw ticked.
He had been home a few days by now, having stayed in D.C for a few days to finish all of the report and briefing, and you hadn’t talked about what had happened to him in Spain, just that Ashley was safe, and some weird cult was behind it all, but he couldn’t say much more, or maybe just didn’t want to. Regardless, any mention of it would make him tense up. 
He got quiet, and his eyes not once looked your way again. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat up, leaning over your knees to be able to reach him.
“Leon,” You said his name softly and a gentle hand touched his leg. You felt him tense up, but he didn’t make any attempts to move away from your touch. “Are you okay?”
You didn’t care if he didn’t want to open up, you didn’t expect him to, and you would never force him to, but you wanted him to know you would listen if he did.
A shaky exhale left his lips, but he nodded. “Yeah baby, I’m good.” He answered after a few seconds, forcing a smile and forced himself to look your way, but his eyes never met with yours.
God this was killing you. 
Before you could respond, he downed the rest of his whiskey before rising to his feet and he started walking without saying a word. Oh no. Absolutely not. If there was something that made your blood boil, it was him walking away in the middle of a conversation. The avoidance. That was something you couldn’t deal with. 
“Leon.” You called his name firmly as you stood up and looked at him with a frown. He turned around with an exasperated spin and a tight jaw, frustration already starting to show. “Do not give me that look, Leon Kennedy.”
He smacked his tongue softly, holding back the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m not. I’m just..” He didn’t finish his sentence, he just sighed out loudly.
You let out your own sigh as you walked to stand in front of him. You stared up at him, eyes big as you met his pale blue ones. They looked emptier and less bright every time he came back from a mission, but this look, this look that screamed he was having a mental hurricane, he only had it after Raccoon City. 
“Baby I know… I don’t, I don’t know what you saw, or did in Spain, and I know you’re having a hard time right now. I just..” You sighed shakily, bringing your hands up to hold his face between them. He tensed up again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his head hung low, but he said nothing and didn’t move away either. “See, this is what I mean. You don’t even want me to touch you. I want to comfort you, I want to help, but you won’t let me. I thought.. I thought we were past that.”
Your hands were at your sides now, and you had taken a step back from him. That seemed to make him look at you, now with big eyes full of guilt, like he hadn’t even realized he was rejecting you. He had been in his own head, not being able to forget the events of Spain, and not being able to sort out his feelings like he knew he should have. God, had he been acting like this the whole time he was home? Rejecting your attempts at comfort? 
“Baby..” He stepped forward, closing the gap you had just created, but he didn’t touch you. He just looked at you, lips parted. He didn’t know how to tell you. “It’s not that.. And it’s not you. In Spain.. There was someone else on that island..”
You stared at him with confusion at first, unsure what exactly that had to do with this. His eyes searched for yours with this guilt ridden and conflicted look. The same look he gave you after Raccoon City. The same one he gave you before he told you he needed time. And then it dawned on you. 
Someone else. 
“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Realization quickly flashed over your face, and that quickly turned into a mixture of anger and hurt as your gaze hardened. Leon saw it. “That’s what it is. You saw Ada. You saw Ada and now you have your balls all twisted up. Again.”
Now it was you who was walking away from him. You weren’t even going to argue this time, and you didn’t want to wait for him to tell you he needed time again. You were halfway up the stairs when Leon started to call your name, but you ignored him and simply turned the corner into your shared bedroom. 
“Shit.” He cursed to himself, sprinting after you, missing two steps and nearly tripping up the stairs in the process. 
By the time he made it to your bedroom you already had a backpack thrown on the bed as you aggressively threw clothes into it. His eyes widened with slight panic when he realized what you were doing.
“Hey, woah. It’s the middle of the night, where the hell are you going?” He huffed, walking back and forth between the bed and your dresser as you continued to aggressively toss clothes on the bed.
“Claire’s. Move.” You muttered as you stopped on your heels when Leon stood right in front of you, arms folded over his chest like a wall between you and your dresser. “Leon, I swear to God.”
“Just listen. It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened, sweetheart I swear.” God he wanted to hold you so bad, he didn’t realize just how much until now. But he didn’t reach for you, he kept his arms over his chest, afraid you would backhand him if he tried. 
“Yeah, ‘cause you probably realized she was just using you again, so you had no other choice but to come back home to me, and not with her, right?” You scoffed, the hurt and betrayal clear in your voice. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t even let him speak, “And before you ask me for time to sort out your feelings, I'm just gonna go stay at Claire’s, and maybe don’t bother looking for me this time.” 
You grabbed the backpack from the bed with whatever you managed to shove in there and started to walk to the door. But Leon was faster than you, stronger too. And before you could step foot outside that bedroom, he had closed the door and backed you into it, both of his hands pressed flat on the door on either side of your head. Your eyes were wide when you looked at him, lips parted but he didn’t let you speak this time.
“Do not say another word, don’t you fucking dare. Just listen to me.” He stressed every word with an authority that instantly made you close your mouth. You blinked a couple of times but didn’t dare say a word. So he continued. “Get this through your head, Ada means absolutely nothing to me anymore. She asked me to go with her, after everything and I.. I said no. I said no ‘cause I want nothing to do with her. I said no ‘cause I wanted to come home to you.”
“Leon..”
He shook his head at you as one of his hands gripped your jaw tightly and he bowed his head to speak closely to you. “I know I’ve been an asshole to you these past few days, I didn't realize I was shutting you out, and I’m sorry. But know that I would never chose Ada over you, not now, not fucking ever. I love you and I’m gonna marry you someday, don’t ever question that.”
You could hear your own breath, his breath, and he kept a tight grip on your jaw as his nose brushed against yours. You closed your eyes and sigh left your lips as you leaned in to press your lips against his, but he pulled back enough to leave you chasing.
"Stay here. Please baby." His voice was low and almost desperate. Fuck, you wanted him take you right then and there. You couldn't even speak, you just nodded, eyes still closed and lips parted. "Say it." 
"Yes. Yes, I'll stay, just.." You breathed out the words, mirroring his desperate tone as you clenched your fists around his t-shirt, pulling his body flush against yours. "Please." 
His mouth came crashing down against yours so hard he pulled a gasp from your throat. But it quickly turned into a whimper when he angled your head back, allowing him to slip in his tongue. And you happily allowed him to do so as his other hand gripped the back of your thigh. 
"Up." He mumbled against your lips as he nearly effortlessly hoisted you up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso.
He walked the short distance to the bed, fingers squeezing your thigh and lips never leaving yours. He only pulled away when he laid you down on the mattress. You were about to whine when he leaned back, but you only managed to suck in a sharp breath as you watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes landed on the bruises and injuries he had come home with, a large knife cut across his bicep, now slightly pink as it began to heal, another smaller one above his collarbone, less angry looking, and more purple bruises than you could count, but they were starting to heal as well. Goddamn, even bruised he was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. Clearly you must've been distracted by the absolute sight that was your boyfriend because you didn’t realize he started to undress you as well until he pulled your t-shirt -that was actually one of his old ones- over your head. He flashed you with a grin and a look that was outright filthy before he leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your breasts while one of his hands played with the other. 
The whimper that fell from your lips was almost pathetic, and you couldn’t help but arch your back further into Leon’s mouth, his lips sending shocks of electricity down your spine.
“Please Leon.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.
He pulled back from your breast with a hum, and tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You gave him a pitiful look, and made a sound resembling a whine. He simply stared at you with feign innocence, “What, baby? What do you want? Tell me.” 
Oh Leon S. Kennedy. That S didn’t stand for Scott, it stood for stubborn, because he had to have his way, no matter what.
You made the same pathetic noise, instinctively trying to rub your thighs together to give yourself to relief, but of course, Leon’s body was right in the fucking way, “Please I want.. Ugh fuck sakes Leon. I want your mouth, I want your cock, I want all of you, please.”
Leon had this smug smirk on his lips and he hummed, satisfied with your pathetic pleads, “Alright baby, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, then you can come on my cock all you want. Would you like that?” 
God, the look you gave him right then made him want to split you wide open. That look of pure need that you could only give him, that you have only given him. And you nodded with so much eagerness it was almost adorable. 
“Do you remember how to speak sweetheart?” He asked with this mocking voice and a smirk that made you pull your lips into a small pout as you nodded, and then he smiled at you, head tilted, “Then use your words. Say ‘yes Leon’.”
This motherfucker.
You grumbled a whine of annoyance, for a moment feeling defiant, but Leon quickly gave you a warning look, a look that had you backing down pretty fucking quick, “Yes Leon.” You finally said, hoping that would get you what you wanted.
So he is stubborn, and an arrogant asshole. Checks out.
He gave you a satisfied smirk, and planted a hard kiss to your lips before he moved down the bed. He pressed his lips to your stomach as he pulled your pajama pants down your legs, your panties quickly following. You shivered softly when the cold air hit your core, but the cold was quickly replaced with his warm breath. His pale sapphire eyes found yours for a second as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, pulling you closer to his face. He dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit and drew his tongue over the sensitive bud. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were anything but subtle. Your hands instantly flew to clutch his long hair. And while you might have not intended to pull, when two of his fingers slipped into you to join the rhythm of his tongue, you just couldn’t help yourself. You pulled, and fucking hard. He growled, sending vibrations through your core that had you gasping and he dug his other hand into your thigh as he forced you still on the mattress. 
“Oooh fuck, fuck Leon,” Your broken moans filled his ears, just as he felt the burn on his scalp from your pulling. 
He knew exactly where his mouth needed to be and where his fingers needed to curl to make you come apart, he prided himself in that. And with the way you kept crying out his name and your body wouldn’t stay on the mattress, he knew you had to be pretty fucking close. 
“Stay fucking still.” He growled as he pulled back enough for his thumb to replace his tongue for just a second, just so he could watch the way your body writhed each time his fingers brushed against your most sensitive spot. “Yeah that’s it, you’re so close, aren’t you baby? Mhm yeah. C’mon pretty girl, c’mon.”
His tongue quickly replaced his thumb on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen bud as his fingers scissored you open, the lewd sound of his mouth lapping at your dripping cunt filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And you couldn’t help it, you pushed his head further against you, and the growl that rumbled in his throat as he abused your clit sent vibrations that had you seeing white. Your release coated his face and hand as you fell into a fit of shaking sobs.
His fingers left you slowly, making sure you felt every second of it as his tongue still circled slowly around your swollen clit, not stopping until you were practically pulling him away by his hair, your body still twitching a bit. He chuckled softly, leaving a wet kiss to your thigh in silent praise before slowly climbing up your body. 
You opened your eyes to find him settled between your parted thighs, two fingers in his mouth and he moaned lowly as he tasted your juices off his fingers. Your mouth was wide open, and a whine left your lips. 
“Hm? Wanna taste baby?” He smirked as he pulled his fingers from his lips and leaned down, pulling you into a messy kiss by your jaw. You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips, and fuck, it had you clenching around nothing. He groaned softly, his clothed cock brushing against your wet cunt. He quickly pulled back, seemingly not wanting to wait any longer. “You taste so fucking good, but you feel even better.” 
He ridded himself of his sweatpants in a second or two, boxer briefs quickly joining on the floor. He hissed softly as he sat on his knees and brushed his cock over your entrance, covering himself in your slick.
“Please babe..” You whine softly, legs dangling over his hips as you endured his torture. He chuckled softly and nodded.
“Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he leaned over you, your legs high on his torso as he slowly filled you, your walls instantly clenching around his cock. 
Leon moaned softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slipped further inside you, fingers digging into your hips with enough force to bruise, “Oooh fuck yeah, atta girl.”
You could only moan weakly in response, sounds so pathetic and broken, and Leon loved every goddamn second of it. He sat still for a few seconds, soaking in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders encouraged him to move. He snapped his hips, over, and over, each delicious drag of his cock making you cry out. His pace was brutal almost immediately, and you were clinging on to him like that was all you were meant to do, to take everything he had to give you.
“Goddamn, you’re taking my cock so well baby. Mhmm, doing such a good job,” His words were coming out in between moans and whimpers, the feeling of you cunt clutching him so well making him just as desperate as he made you. “This is what you needed, hm pretty girl? Yeah, me too.”
He had your knees nearly pressed up to your chest by then as he fucked you into the matress, and you took it happily. You nodded eagerly, gripping his hair and pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze. “You’re.. You’re mine, mkay? Just mine.”
Your words of ownership caught him by surprise, and he laughed between pants, biting down on his lip and he hovered over you enough to press his forehead against yours, the change in angle allowing him to hit your most sensitive spot, and he had you mouth wide open.
“Yours huh? I’m yours?” He asked with a wide smirk, your words clearly riling him up. You nodded quickly. “This dick is just yours, right baby? Is that what you want me to say? That no one else can have me? That no one else deserves it?”
He grunted out the words, lacking as much control as you did, but still in control enough to taunt you, to get you going, and fuck, he got you going like one else could. You were practically screaming ‘yes!’ at the top of your lungs. Your neighbors probably knew Leon was back by then. But neither of you could honestly be bothered to care about noise. 
“Yes! Yes, only I can have you.” Your words were broken, your voice was absolutely broken in between fits of sobs. Your hands were gripping at his blonde strands as your toes curled, the flash of heat you so desperately craved to feel a second time settling in your body as you continued to take in his punishing thrusts. But you still managed to say, “Please say it. That you’re mine. Fuck, please say it.”
Fuck, when you begged him like that, so close to falling apart for him, how could he ever deny you anything?”
The moan that fell from his lips at your words left you shaking, but you were not ready for what he decided to do next. He leaned down, as close as he could to your face, lips almost touching as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, and between pants he said, “I’m all yours baby.” 
You don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your entire life, and Leon felt it. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as your walls clenched around him, hard. A shaky whimper left his mouth as his hips started to falter, his thrusts becoming more sharp and shallow the closer he was to his own release. You held him tightly, fingers gripping his hair and his name left your lips in soft sighs enticing him to fall apart as well.
“Mmm goddamn, I’m so close. Fuck, let me come inside you baby. Ugh,” His words were shaky, so close to falling apart. You nodded eagerly, clinging onto to him as he squeezed your throat, his moans getting louder and shakier before he fell still, cock twitching as he spilled himself inside you, “Ooooh fuck, mhmm that’s it baby. Take it like the good girl that you are.”
You closed your eyes in delight, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through his slick hair soothingly, his hand now resting beside your head just as he rested his face on your neck. His quick and heavy breaths were hot on your neck, just as his body was hot on yours, but neither of you wanted to move, or leave the other. He needed you to hold him, and you needed him to let you. He never wanted you to doubt what he felt for you, ever again. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, holding each other, Leon still inside you. Probably once he no longer had the energy to keep his weight off you, so with a kiss to your jaw, he moved away, lying beside you instead. He ran a hand through his disheveled and sweaty strands, getting his hair away from his face. With a lazy smile, he glanced over at you, equally fucked out, hair just as sweaty and disheveled as his. He bit his lip softly and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed softly, bringing your hand to hold his face.
“Mmm, I think I should make you jealous more often if you’re gonna fuck me like that.” He laughed softly, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You pulled back enough to look at him and you glared at him, nudging his head away. He only laughed harder.
“That was no jealousy, you asshole.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips slightly pursed, but the way he smiled at you and tilted his head made you crack a small smile. “I’m serious. Leon I swear to God if I find out you contact her again I will stab you in your sleep with your own knife.”
Leon knew your threat of bodily harm wasn’t serious, but he knew the reason behind it was, he knew he hurt you after Raccoon City, and it took him a long time to earn back your trust, and he would never put you through that again. 
“I won’t, I want nothing to do with her. I never did. I love you, that’s never going to change, yeah?” He leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. You believed him.
“I know. I love you too.”
“Good. Now I’ll go run us a bath for round two.” He shot you a wink as he got up and laughed when he saw the look you gave him, “That was a joke. I meant to get cleaned up.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and simply shook your head as you watched him walk across your bedroom, but when he was about to walk out, you called his name.
“Yeah baby?” He said, peeking his head into your bedroom from the hallway.
“So, when are we getting married?”
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loveyhoneydovey · 5 months
Text
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon riley
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notes & warnings: the used pictures are only for aesthetic purposes, reader is not physically described in this. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI this is an 18+ only blog. a significant age gap between simon & reader is implied but the actual number is never mentioned. if i missed anything please lmk:)
this is a completely unedited little something i wrote at 4am
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reader who never fell out of love mechanic ex-boyfriend simon
you still recommend your ex-boyfriend’s garage to your friends (especially any vulnerable women) because despite your failed relationship, you’ve never met someone as trustworthy and reliable as simon 
you and mechanic simon who met when you’d found a used car you wanted to purchase and wanted to have it independently inspected 
reader who found this older, ruggedly handsome, stoic and yet professional mechanic who seemed to know his shit. despite the terrifying skull design resting next to his shop’s name, you trusted him immediately
not only did he inspect the car for you, but he also helped bring down its price and performed any necessary repairs at a huge discount (he never told you about this, you eventually figured it out on your own)
despite the obvious crush, he was very reluctant to pursue anything with you. not only were you his client and trusted him not to make things weird, but you were also so much younger and he felt like an old dog who was beyond learning any new tricks
you should’ve taken his warning from the beginning as he had predicted the downfall of your relationship before it’d even began
reader whose car has been acting weird for the past couple of months so you begrudgingly take it to simon’s shop
you’d actually tried taking it to some new garage in town, but had a feeling you were being lied to and overcharged when the sleazy mechanic barely spent an hour on it and said it was back like new
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who doesn’t even need 5 minutes to tell you it’s on its last leg. despite his stoic demeanor, he’s actually concerned by how you’ve been driving such a vehicle in such an unsafe state
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who starts asking till he finds a car within your budget. one he inspects himself to make sure his baby not anymore doesn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of faulty brakes
the fucker was ready to buy it himself, but knew you’d never accept his money (especially not after the harsh parting words you’d left each other with during your last fight)
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who’ll never love anyone more than you, but still isn’t willing to repair the broken bond between you two
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who still uses o’keeffe’s working hands cream every day cause you used to always rub it on his hands, swearing his calloused skin would soon feel like a baby’s butt (and of course you were right). he tries to mimic the way you’d gently work it into his damaged skin as the only thing he had left from you now were memories
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who never really tries to move on from you despite his apprentice’s attempts to set him up with multiple people (what’s the point of you for something he’s already found) 
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who went through the army and came out even more damaged after a stint in prison. he believes nothing good will come out of such a sweet thing so full of life being chained to a grumpy old man like him
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who despite thinking all of that can’t accept the thought of you being with someone other than him
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WHEW the is the first time i've written in YEARS (and i probably won't write anything for another good 5 years fjkdsw). hope you enjoyed this as much as i did!! this au idea has been rotting my brain for the past few days and i just had to let it out. feel free to dm me, leave a comment or send an ask about this au. dividers made by @anitalenia ✨
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jareaul0ver · 3 months
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Thinking about Nika and reader getting into a big fight bc reader feels like Nika has been neglecting her and the relationship due to basketball and then Nika trying to get her back ….
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wc: 2k warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!!, nika being a bad, neglectful gf at first, basically all stated in the request pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader
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Nika had always treated basketball like it was the only thing in her life that mattered. For the most part that was true. Sure, she had her family, but they were back in Croatia and there was only so much she could do with that situation.
Then you came into her life, flipping her world upside down. Sometimes basketball was pushed to the back of her mind when she was with you. She valued the way you could help her wind down after a tough practice, or if they lost a game you knew exactly how to make her forget about it.
But that was all in college. After she got drafted, things started to change. She wasn't getting the same playing time she used to, which greatly affected her mood.
You reassured her after each game that it was just because it was so early in the season, and that you were sure she'd get playing time as everything progressed.
She didn't listen, though. She was out for most hours of the day. At team practices, weight training, and dragging into her own personal time with extra workouts and practice drills.
Her mindset was that if her playing was perfect, she'd get time. But it still didn't help.
At this point, you barely saw her. Even with living in the same apartment, she'd pretty much only be there in the very early morning or very late night, mostly while you were asleep.
Not only was her being in the W affecting her, it was affect you and your relationship with her. She was pulling away from you, whether she realized it or not, and it was hurting you more than she knew.
It was a late night for you. You were working on the final touches of a paper for one of your summer grad school classes, sitting on yours and Nika's shared bed which had felt incredibly empty for the past few months.
She walked through the door, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw you still awake. "What're you doing up?" She said quietly before going over to grab clothes to change into from the dresser.
"Finishing up the paper I've been working on for class," you mumbled. You had mentioned it to her before, as she had caught you working on it in the late nights and early mornings, but it seemed to have slipped her mind.
"Oh," was all she managed before changing into clothes to sleep in.
You sighed and looked up at her. "I've mentioned it to you before, you've seen me working on it before," you said, frustration laced in your tone.
Her brow furrowed as she looked at you. "You don't need to get pissy with me, I just forgot."
"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately, Nika," you let out a shaky breath, pushing your laptop off of your lap and sliding out of bed. "Christ, you almost forgot our anniversary a few weeks ago."
"Sorry I've been busy, I've had a lot on my mind," she said firmly.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nika, all you've been doing is basketball ten times over. Extra training, practice, whatever you can find. You're never home. You're never with me anymore."
She froze for a second before opening her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with the wave of a hand. "Don't even start," you started to raise your voice. "I- no, our relationship has been on the backburner ever since you got drafted! I get it, babe, it's important to you, and it takes a lot of time and effort but-"
Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes. "You've been gone, Nika. For months, I've felt like I've been on my own. Sometimes it just feels like I'm in a one sided relationship, like you don't want me anymore."
Nika's face fell at your words, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She stepped towards you, bringing her hands up to cup your face, wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. "I- I'm sorry, bebo, I don't want you to feel that way, but-"
You scoffed and stepped back. "There's always a but, isn't there," you said flatly. With a shake of your head you turned towards the bedroom door. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Less room for it to feel so empty," you spat with a shaky voice before leaving the room.
The door shut and Nika looked down at the ground, her hands now on her hips as she stood there, letting every word you said sink in.
She realized now that she was losing you, that you were slipping away, and it was all her fault. She had been so absorbed by basketball that she forgot about you.
There had never been a day in her life where she felt worse. Not when she couldn't play because of her visa issues, not when she hurt her ankle for the first time, not even when she had to leave her family back in Croatia to play basketball.
No, this was the worst day of her life. Her coming to the realization that she might wake up tomorrow and you aren't in the apartment. All your things could be gone. You could block her number, her socials, erase her from your life completely, and it would be her fault.
Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of this. The idea of you leaving is her worst fear, and she would do damn near anything to make sure it wouldn't happen.
So the next morning she checked the couch, immensely relieved that you were still sleeping somewhat peacefully out there. Although she wasn't with you, she was glad she still had you.
Before she left for practice with the team, she wrote a small note for you and left it in your underwear drawer, where she was sure you would see it.
Eventually you woke up, immediately checking the bedroom to see if Nika was miraculously here. You knew she wouldn't be, but it still hurt to see an empty bed.
You had an interview with a possible employer in a few hours, so you got ready. You walked into the bedroom with only a towel covering your body, and opened your underwear drawer, and look of confusion first on your face when you saw the note.
You picked it up and read over it, "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I'm going to make it up to you. Don't make any plans for tonight, I'll be home after your interview. - Love you."
A sigh fell from your lips, but your face softened. You hoped and prayed that she would stay true to her word, this being a turning point in your flatlining relationship.
But you held back from fully believing it, part of you expecting a disappointing outcome.
You finished getting ready for the interview and left the apartment, your mind immediately cleared from everything going on with Nika the second you got into your car.
Nika sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for you to get home. She was wearing a black top with a matching black skirt that you had gotten her for her birthday this year. She had a pair of short black heels to match, and her hair and makeup was done.
You walked into the apartment, your back turned towards her at first as you closed the door, but once you turned around your eyes widened a little.
She stood up and took a deep breath, taking a step towards you. "Hey, how was your interview?"
You blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, um, it went well I think," you said softly.
Nika nodded slightly before turning to the direction of the coffee table and picking up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. She turned back around and took a few more steps towards you, now leaving you guys only a few feet apart.
"Got these for you, as the beginning of an apology gift, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she held them out.
You looked at her hesitantly before taking them. "Beginning?"
She nodded and stepped forward, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You reached over and placed them on the table near the entrance of your apartment, fully giving her your attention.
"God, bebo, I'm so sorry. For everything. For treating you the way I have been, not being there, forgetting important things. I can't even put it into words how sorry I am," she said with a long breath. "And I know sorry isn't gonna fix it, but I'm trying to, okay? I am."
You stared at her, your face softening a bit at her words. "It's gonna take a lot more than a bouquet of flowers to fix everything, Nika," you uttered, your voice soft but serious.
"I know. Of course it is, but that's not all I have planned for tonight, okay? I- I got us a reservation at that one Italian place you like that's not too far from here. The nice one." Her voice was tinged with desperation, longing to have you back with her, to belong to her again.
Nika told you it was in an hour, so you nodded and went to the bedroom to get ready. It didn't take you long, as all you had to do was touch up your makeup and change your outfit.
Once you came out of the bedroom, Nika was practically giving you heart eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen you like this, all dolled up in a pretty little dress, ready for date night.
She walked over to you, hesitantly grabbing your hands. You let her, and looked up into her soft brown eyes. "You look gorgeous, bebo," she whispered.
You couldn't help but blush a little, that feeling of before you and Nika drifted coming back to fill your senses. Her touch on your hands practically set you on fire. It had been so long since you two actually touched, not just in passing, or snuggling in the middle of the night.
But a long, snug grip that sent flutters throughout your chest.
"You do too," you said softly to her, squeezing her hands gently. She smiled a little and started pulling you towards the door, ready to leave for dinner.
You were returning home from dinner with her. It was almost perfect. You talked and laughed and everything felt like it should again. When you walked into the apartment, you gently tugged on Nika's hand. "We really should talk about everything more."
She faced you and nodded. "Yeah, of course, let's go talk," she gently dragged you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to do the same.
You sat down after her, barely leaving any space between the two of you. All it took was a deep breath from the both of you before you spoke, your voice soft. "Tonight was... amazing. It's everything I've been wanting for the past few months and more, but it doesn't fix everything."
She gazed at you intently, absorbing every word you said. "I know, and I don't expect everything to be fixed."
You nodded, appreciating her listening to you. "And I forgive you, because it's really hard not to," you said with a small laugh. "But it's gonna take a while for things to go back to normal. And it's gonna take effort."
Nika hummed softly her hands finding yours again as you spoke. "I don't want things to go back to how they were, you barely being home, pushing me away because you're so zoned in on basketball. I want you. I want my Nika back."
She thought she could cry at your words, seeing the hurt evident on your face, hearing it subtly in your tone as you spoke. "I'm back, baby. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm gonna work every day to prove that to you."
You pulled your hands away from hers to bring them up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently against your palms. "I love you," you whispered.
"I love you," she said immediately, "so much."
You leaned in slightly, gently pressing your lips to hers, igniting a much needed kiss between the two of you. "I'm not going anywhere ever again, promise," she mumbled against your lips.
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wow im back hi sorry for not writing for so long, ive had bad writers block and since its the summer ive been doing a lotta stuff keeping me busy, but hopefully im back for good now <3
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minhyungsluvr · 8 months
Text
MARK + 00' LINE | FIGHTS WITH THEM
a/n: would you believe this has been in the drafts for a year now!!! The dialogue kicked my ass, but alas I prevailed
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MARK: NOT TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF
He had texted you, saying it was another late practice. For the past week he had left earlier in the morning, and came back late at night barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to slip into bed beside you. You had brought it up before, or tried to, and he brushed you off. Saying it was apart of his job, he doesn't need a break, he feels fine. You not even sure if he's eating properly. The final straw was when he came home late again, this time you were away waiting on him. Like clock work, he comes through the door sluggishly. Movements slow, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. It almost pained you to bring it up now when the last thing he probably wanted was to hear you fuss over him again. But if you didn't bring it up now, then would you be able to again. "Mark, this really isn't healthy. You're not sleeping, I'm not sure your even eating meals. I'm sure you can afford a couple of days to relax." You spoke softly, hoping that keeping your voice soft would slim the chances of a fight starting. That didn't work. "Baby..." he started with a sigh. " I really don't want get into this tonight, I'm tired" he said as he walked past you to get to the bedroom. You followed him, still trying to make your point. "I'm not trying to nag or anything, but I just want you to start taking better care of yourself". He's still not listening to you, he to busy chaning into his pajamas. "Are you listening to me", you ask, now feeling frustrated. "I am, and I mean it when I say I'm fine. So can you please drop it so we cam go sleep." He turns to you as he speaks, waiting for you to say something else before moving. You nod once, "okay, fine." You slip under the covers, back towards him, you don't say goodnight and neither does he.
RENJUN: NOT WANTING TO MEET YOUR FRIENDS
Renjun was your first serious relationship, and you had hoped he'd be your last. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He was caring, you had similar interests, and be made time for you despite his busy schedule. You've met a lot of the members of his group, you loved their dynamic. The way they were like family, how they were able to joke with each other like brothers. Your relationship was moving beautifully, until you invited him to brunch with some of your friends. When you asked, he Immediately froze up. Stumbling over his words to give you a quick, barely thought out excuse of why he would be busy during that time. You asked him again a week later, this time it was bowling. And again, he suddenly had to go do something with his members that he just thought about. It had been a month of bad excuses and dodging ever attempt at trying to meet your friends. They were starting to think you were making it up. It came to the point where you had to confront his about it. On a day where he was most definitely not bust you asked him again, "do you want to come with me a few friends for lunch"? You could feel him tense from his position on you as you both were stretched across the couch. "Ummm....." he started, beginning to sit up. "Why don't you want to meet my friends? I've met yours, and it was a lot of them." You spoke, exasperated. He starts looked around, like he's trying to find another excuse. "Stop" You saying, now also sitting up, "be honest with me Renjun. Why do you keep lying?" He hears your voice wobble, see your eyes get glossy. "I just don't understand, I've told how important my friends are to me and you won't even try to meet them." He's quick to console you as a tesr finally makes its way down your cheek. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just nervous. I know how much they mean to you, and-" You cut him off, " I really like Renjun, and for us to get build our relationship your going to have to meet the important people in my life like I've met yours." You had taken his hand in yours, giving reassuring squeezes every now and then as he let your words sink in.
HEACHAN: DOESN'T TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY
This problem has been festering for a minute, and it’s probably your fault the situation is as big as it is. You should’ve brought it up when it was only a small issue, not when you came home from work later than usual with an attitude because your boss is a jerk. All you wanted was to come home to a clean and quiet home, instead you walk through the door to hear your boyfriend yelling through from the bedroom. All the dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, including the ones from the morning that you asked him to clean before you got home. When you walked in the room to ask him about the mess that was your kitchen, you didn’t want it to turn into a fight. It started with you asking him why he didn’t wash the dishes like you asked, especially since he was home all day. Then it ended with you accusing him of never taking you seriously. “What do you mean I don’t take you seriously?” he asked, no longer shouting. “I mean exactly what I said, you don’t take me seriously. When I tell you something you only joke about it.” The frustration was on your face and his as you started listing instances where he turned what you were feeling or what you said into a joke. Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you kept talking, anger building up from the long day you had and the argument you were having with Haechan. Seeing your face, how tired you looked, he calmed down. “Gorgeous, why have you never brought this up earlier?” You shrugged,feeling all the fight leave at his quiet tone. "Look, I promise to start listening better if start telling me how your feeling before it blows up." He stands in front of you, head tilting down to meet your teary eyes. He's only given a single nod, but the small, barely there smile on your face tells him everything will be alright.
JENO: FORGETTING IMPORTANT DATES
It's embarrassing, humiliating! You sit alone, at a table for two, in a restaurant with fancy lights, all by yourself. Looks of pity are being thrown from across the restaurant as you check the time of your phone for the fourt time that minute. Nope, still no text from Jeno. No text saying he's late, no text telling you why he hadn't shown up yet, not even a text to cancel. You could feel your face heat up as other couples walked past to get to their tables. Finally you gave up, you've waited thirty minutes too long. Walking out the restaurant, you call him, eager to see what held him up. "Hello" he answers on the first ring, "y/n..... are you there"? You had froze, he didn't show up to dinner because he was sleep! Not because he was in some life threatening situation. After the last time he had missed a date, he promised that he wouldn't miss another. Or at the very least let you know ahead of time why he couldn't come. You held the phone for another second before answering. "Did you forget about out plans" you ask. You hear him cuss quietly on the phone, before there is a rustling sound. Probably him fighting with his sheets to get out the bed. "I'm so sorry", he starts, "tell me where you are and I'll meet you there, ok sweetheart." He throws the pet name on at the end, knowing what it does to you. But it doesn't have the same effect this time. "Don't worry about it Jeno, I'm going home." You hung up before he was able to answer. He wasted no time calling you back while getting dressed, each called went ignored and only fueled him to move faster to meet you. By the time he showed up at your door, all his calls and texts still went unanswered. He could only hope you'd answer the door so he could try and make it right.
JAEMIN: NOT MAKING TIME FOR YOU
Of course you knew how busy he was before you even started dating. But if he was able to make time for you when you were just friends, you assumed that wouldn't change when he became your boyfriend. You'd spend weekends together watching romcoms, going out to eat, and now your lucky if you see him at least once a month. At first you blamed it on comeback season. Then of course there was the tour. But now he was back, and the most he done is respond to your texts telling you he's made it back home, or to laugh at a meme you've sent. You'd ask if he was free one day to come over, to hang out, he says he can't because he's playing games with Jeno. A new movie with your favorite actress just came out, and he can't see it with you because he's already getting lunch with the members. This goes on for a while, you trying to set dates up and him declining because he already has plans. You and your relationship have been pushed aside for a while, and you were sick of it. You called him on night, to ask him when he'd be free next. "I'm not really sure, I was going to spend some time just relaxing." Normally, he would've invited you over, but your not sure whats going on with him now. "Jaemin, are you tired of me?" He makes a noise of surprise over the phone, "What makes you say that, you know I'm crazy about you". You sigh, "It's like you don't want to be around me anymore. You're always busy, but not to busy for everyone else." It's a hot minute before he answers, "I didn't realize I was making you feel like that, I didn't even realize I was pulling away from you". "I understand that your busy, but I don't know...." you trail off. "No, I get it, I do. And I'm sorry", he says, "I just need to find balance is all. But don't think you're not important to me". His reassuring words bring a smile back to your face, "so are you going to be free soon" you ask hoping his answer would be different from earlier.
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o-sachi · 2 months
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Where Love Grows - Drabble for WinBre Week!
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ᯓ oh to grow old and plant tomatoes on your farm together... ᯓ character; umemiya hajime (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; aged up (but just because growing old and in love makes me sappy), FLUFF, afab reader, no y/n
[🐟]: for the day 1 - garden prompt! @windbreakerweek
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You've been calling out his name for a while now, yet you received no response. There was no mistake that he was out here, tending to the plants again. Sometimes he gets so immersed in it that he fails to notice how hot it is. The duty of reminding him and hauling him back in the house has been designated to you.
You had to be careful, especially at this age. Getting a heatstroke and keeling over in the middle of the scorching heat would be terrible after all.
"Hajime!" you call out again. Just how far away was he from the house?
If only you knew he'd be this irresponsible, you would have stopped him from buying a land with this huge of a farm. Or maybe not... you could never find it in yourself to turn him down—not when he's smiling so earnestly at you.
You click your tongue, feeling tired from just stepping through the rows of crops the two of you worked hard to nurture. "Hajime! Where are you?"
Finally. You see head of white hair poking out from a few rows away from you. Your eyes met each other's and despite your annoyance, a smile creeps on your face. He was a hardheaded man, but seeing the joys of a simple life reflected on his face made your heart swell.
"You missed me already? I've only been out for an hour," he teases with the familiar twinkle in his eyes.
"Say whatever you want, darling. I'd prefer if you stay inside for now and drank some water."
He stood up, dusting his pants. But it was all in naught because he wiped his dirty hands on his white tee anyway. It was a habit of his and at this point it was impossible to correct.
"I'll be inside in a sec. Just need to—" he pauses to stretch his back. "Relocate some of these tomatoes somewhere else."
He never said a thing, but you noticed in his mannerisms that his back was giving him trouble lately. You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his aching back.
"How about we do it together later when it's not so hot?"
Hajime sighs, glancing over at the tomatoes that shone a bit under the sun. He'd prefer to get it over with, but he couldn't pass up on the chance to do some farm work with you. "Alright, fine. Let's head back for now."
Even though his hands were covered in soil, you squeezed it hard when he held yours. There was an inexplicable feeling when he'd take you by the hand and lead you around the farm. It reminded you when the two of you were younger—you'd run around the empty parts of the field, giggling like idiots.
It wasn't possible now because the two of you had filled most of the land with healthy and beautiful crops. As nostalgic as it was, you loved how fulfilled it seemed. It was like a testament to your marriage and to your love.
"Sometimes I miss being young," he starts, as if he read your mind. "Back then I'd have no trouble crouching down all day and taking care of my plants."
You squeezed his hand in reassurance once more. "All that fighting getting to you now huh?"
A rich chuckle erupts from his chest. "Guess you're right, darling. But I don't regret a single thing."
The two of you continue your trek back to the house. The sun still shone brightly, but his body blocked it. All you could see was his broad back—the same back that carried Furin and your family on its shoulders.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed that you were already at the fence that separated the main house from the farm. Hajime easily unlocked the gate with one hand and it opened with the creaking sound you've heard everyday for the past 20 or so years you've been living here.
That gate had a Pavlov effect on you. Whenever you heard it, you knew that Hajime was done farming and that you'd have to wait by him at the door where he'd collect his end-of-the-day kiss.
It seems like the kids have caught on to it as well. As soon as the gate closed, they were already there—running towards their beloved parents. A little girl and a little boy went to either parent and gave them a hug.
You had other older kids who had moved out some time ago. These two came later in your lives. Initially, you were worried, but Hajime got rid of your fears.
"The more the merrier!" he would say. Hajime did love kids after all.
He pat both of their heads. "Hehe, you guys missed me too? Your mama sure did."
"Hajime..."
He feigns innocence. "Mama missed me, right? She got all grumpy again, didn't she?"
The two rascals, who took after their father (way too much), nodded along. You playfully narrowed your eyes at them.
Hajime sure loved your reactions to your family banter. He clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's go inside and make some orange juice."
"Yeah! Orange juice!" the kids cheered in unison.
"Let's all go to the farm together later hm? How about that?" Hajime asked the kids as they began walking back to the house.
You were left to stand a good distance away from them—admiring your kids and the man that helped you raise them. He turned back to look at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come along.
Well... you've truly come a long way.
o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.
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gr1mstar · 8 months
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Timeless lover - part II
notes: this is a second part of an one shot i did a few days ago. i don’t think it will be a part III because my account is dying? i think i was reported once and from then my post don’t get much the attention anymore. how can i fix this?
contains: sukuna ryomen x f!reader, reincarnation, past lovers, curse words (not a lot of them), sfw, human sukuna (from that time when he was actually human), flashbacks, lovers to strangers, mentions of death, sick reader (in the past), sorcerer reader (present time), sukuna has sentiments?, sukuna is soft for reader, past sukuna looks kinda like itadori yuji, not the same tho, but very similar, mention of pills, slightly an au because sukuna will never be this nice, reader is older than yuji but sukuna is older? that makes sense?
check out the first part first if you didn’t already - here
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“sukuna”
“sukuna. that’s my name, keep that in mind, doll” the man in front of you spoke, taking your chin in his big hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes.
‘what a shade of red…’ you thought, analyzing the irises that looked at you with almost hatred. ‘i despise red.’ you continued, continuing to look in his direction, seeing that he was not backing up.
“not afraid, i see. what a particular sight,” he muttered, finally leaving your chin alone. after some time, he took a few steps back, running his hand through his hair. “what are you exactly?”
“what do you mean?” you found yourself asking, now looking at the tree that stood tall beside you two.
“are you not afraid to die? people usually are scared of me, fearing that i would fight them and win, resulting in their death.” the man continued, taking a few steps just to be beside you.
thinking back, when you were younger you were afraid of death. it was a terrifying thought, but after all the bullshit you went through, you found yourself not having the exact same mentality.
your time was limited, death being the only thing you were certain it was coming for you. what did you have? nothing. so that’s why you set out to live your life to the fullest, or well… how much is left of it.
you were strong. stronger than others.
“no. only the weak are afraid.”
the familiar man that stood in front of you, one intimidating, now was a big puppy, his eyes showed emotions, emotions that a curse should never have. so what was different?
“my love, no time no see…” he stared, taking a few steps in your direction, his arms parting, beckoning you to come closer to him for a hug.
‘is he crazy? what happened to yuji?’ but you were never able to answer your question, because he interrupted your thoughts.
“didn't you miss me? i've been waiting for you for hundreds of years… love-”
“don’t. i am not such a thing.” now was your time to interrupt him, taking a step back. looking at your surroundings, you found megumi looking at you with shock, a light line of blood staining his face. “megumi,” you continued, addressing the back-haired boy, “run.”
“i think i will remember you always,” you confessed, looking at the man who stood behind you, a hand on your waist and the other in your hair.
looking at the sky, you could see the millions of stars smiling happily back at you. the night was peaceful, but you knew well that the following morning would not be.
“and you will never forget about the scolding you will receive tomorrow” he continued, placing a sweet kiss in your hair.
“maybe. but it was worth it. you deserve all my time”
“and you deserve all the world, my love.” was his response, closing his eyes and praying that you would be fine.
the stars were bright and you could not stop yourself from asking: ‘when i become a star too, i will shine this beautifully?’
“so. where is it?” the white-haired man asked, hands in his pocket and looking between me, megumi, and now-yuji-really-yuji.
there was a moment of silence, the sensei looking funnily at the three sorcerers. you found the silence ironic, so you tried to break it using a fake cough, but yuji beat you to it, speaking.
“i- i kinda ate that thing.”
another pause. now you were eyeing megumi, who looked somewhat constipated. it was true really, it was a very shitty moment-
“really?”
“yes, really. i am fine, kuna. you don’t need to worry, go to your mission, beat some ass, and came back to me for my cuddles, okay?” you tried to make a compromise, but the red-eye man that stood in front of you didn’t want to listen.
“i’m not going. the maid told me that you were feeling lightheaded all morning, i want to be with you-”
“but people would die if you’re not going, sukuna. i don’t want-”
“let them die fucking hell. who is more important?” he interrupted you, his angry face making you roll your eyes. he was a stubborn bitch when he wanted.
after a moment of silence, he started approaching you, taking your neck gently with his hand and making you look at him. “answer me. who is more important?”
you wanted to scream in his face that ‘the rest of the world is more important than me. who i am? a sick woman simping over a handsome man”, but you could not do that. it was going to make him more angry than he was already.
“me. i’m the important one.”
“good girl”
“so… what’s your relationship with sukuna? the king of curses, really?” the principal asked, looking from behind his glasses at you, with an eyebrow raised.
“i really don’t know. he looked at me… somewhat differently than the rest. i think he knew me from somewhere, but i don’t know.” was your response, signing and putting your head against the couch cushion.
“in any case, we must be careful. it's sukuna after all, we have to expect anything.” gojo responded, playing with his blindfold.
it was strange to see gojo wearing a blindfold reader than the glasses you were used to. the first time you saw him, you asked about it, his response making you feel bad for him.
at the same time, you could not resist asking him: “kinky much?”
“gojo is right. let’s be careful.” yoga spoke, and then continued. “now, what about yuji?”
“what about him? he would not be a part of the jujutsu high?” you found satoru asking, his now naked eye looking at yaga.
he looked so… intimidating without something covering his eyes.
“the elders want him killed.” the principal continued.
“no”
“what do you mean no?”
“i said no, kuna. meeting my parents would be a bad thing,” you said, looking at your pale hand. sukuna was playing with your fingers.
“but why?” he complained, looking like a kid who just got his candy stolen. “it could be a great opportunity to show them you are in good hands-”
“no, sukuna.” you interrupted him, taking a break from his attitude. “they would freak out and probably never allow me to meet you ever again.”
“i could kill them-” he started speaking, but you interrupted him harshly.
“absolutely not.”
“how are you feeling?”
“the same really. i mean it was pretty gross at the beginning but it went away.” yuji spoke happily, making his way to sit beside you on a bench.
the conversation you had a few minutes ago was still fresh, but you were glad that gojo was able to convince the higher-ups to not execute yuji.
“i’m glad you are okay, yuji. i heard you can control him too?”
“yes and no. i feel his presence in my mind, i can feel him too.”
“so you… you have any idea how he knows me?” you asked, a little bit of hope lingering in the air.
“not really. he always bothers me about you, but at the same time he doesn’t want to talk with you.”
“why you don’t wanna talk with me? kuna!”
you were met with silence. you could feel that he was annoyed, but somewhat you liked how he looked all… angry. he was sexy. the red eyes that stared at you a few minutes ago were now filled with jealousy, and the little crease on his forehead was just too cute to ignore.
“are you jealous?” you continued your question, tilting your head a little bit to the right to look at him better.
‘i would kill for this man’ you found yourself thinking, admiring his attractive features.
“no. i just don’t like the way he looks at you.” and then he continued, taking your head in his big hands, leaving a little kiss on the tip of the nose. “you are mine.”
“yours always.”
“he what?” you shouted, tightly clutching the phone to your ear as if it was ready to fly out of the blue.
“he ripped his heart out.” magumi answered again, then continued “you should come here, maybe say goodbye? i don’t really know.”
and so you did, and in a few minutes, you were at the jujutsu high, ready to see a poor boy who fell pray in the hands of a curse.
“you were with him?”
“yes.” the black-haired boy answered, immediately sighing. “i saw everything.”
“where was gojo?” you asked again, getting on your feet and ready to kick the white hair man’s ass.
“i don’t fucking know.”
seeing a dead person on the table was not something you were planning to see on your holiday in tokyo. yuji, now fully naked, was lying cold on the operating table. gojo just left the room to bring shoko to examine the boy, so you were all alone with a dead corpse and possibly a curse inside.
“sukuna…”
you were not sure what got into you, but somehow you found yourself talking with yuji and in the same time with sukuna.
“i know, you hate humans and shit. and i’m sorry i don’t remember you, or that i know you? i’m confused. i just… can i ask something?”
you sighed.
“can you bring yuji back? for me?”
a few minutes passed in silence. it was childish, really. thinking that ‘the king of curses’ would respond and listen to a human.
but it did. sukuna brought yuji back.
“happy birthday, princess.” started your lover, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers to you. it was not well done, some flowers were poorly placed and some even had some weeds next to them, but you appreciated the gesture.
“it’s so beautiful, kuna.” you responded, making your way to him for a kiss. “when did you have time to make thus?”
“i’ll always make time for you, you know that.” he responded, taking another sweet kiss from you. “nos, make a wish.”
“a wish?” you asked, “but didn't we need a cake for that? and candles?”
“just pretend, you know. we don’t have a cake right now, and it’s almost midnight. you show to make a wish.”
“okay, okay.” you laughed, taking the bouquet and hugging it.
‘i wish… to be with him forever’
“no! i can’t be with you. you are-”
“i’m what? last time we met, those weren’t your words, love.” the red-eyed man spoke, taking a few steps in your direction.
“it was all in the past. last time we met? that was a few weeks ago, sukuna. i don’t know you!” you shouted, keeping a fair share of distance. “i’m not your love anymore, so just give up, forget all about it.”
“i can’t do that. you know that, my love. i can’t”
“bring yuji back,” you commanded, looking at the man in front of you with despair.
he told you the truth. all your dreams and all your nightmares were just memories. memories from your past life, and so you lied to him that you didn’t remember anything, too afraid to tell the truth.
your life has just been turned upside down by a boy who ate your ex-boyfriend's finger. what a beautiful life you have, isn't it?
“kuna,” you asked, playing with your lover's hair.
“yes, princess?”
“i want you all to myself. i want to always be with you, together.”
“bring yuji back, you monster!”
“you are not a monster, kuna. you are a beautiful man, with a big heart. people just misunderstand you.”
“i hate you. i hate you, you broke me. because of you, i have insomnia, because of you i’m miserable. because of you, i used to think i’m crazy, you piece of shit”
“i love you. i will always love you. because of you, i smile more, because of you i feel alive again and because of you i will die at peace, knowing that you will be here when i wake up again, waiting for me.” you spoke gently, taking his rough hand in yours.
“promise me, kuna. promise me that you will find me in my next life, and we will be together again, even though i will not remember anything.”
“i’m not breaking my promise, princess.”
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© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
the photos were taken from pinterest
tags: @wr4inn @cyzvx @sunnshinie @guinevere666 @periodbloodmanipulator @esauritamaviva @uhnanix @shadowstar123
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rubyin-wonderland · 29 days
Text
Tattoos
opla!Zoro x gn!reader
Summary: Zoro likes your tattoos, and is excited to see your newest one
WC: 2.3k
Warnings/tags: brief mention of needles, that's it
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Zoro's fingers traced gently up and down your arm, along the tentacles of a jellyfish that had been inked into your skin. You lay on his chest, fast asleep, lulled into this calm by the rocking of the sea and his gentle embrace. Zoro liked touching your tattoos. He thought they were fascinating.
They reminded him of his scars, in a way. They told stories. Stories etched on your skin for the world to see. His scars told tales of fights, of danger and fury. Your tattoos told stories of your life. The people you knew, the things you'd done, the places you'd been. He never regretted a scar, and you never regretted a tattoo.
You only had tattoos to reminded you of important things. To remind you of your past. Your people. The jellyfish reminds you of your home, the friendly little cove packed with harmless jellyfish that used to tickle your legs when you swam with them, getting your first taste of adventure.
You had plenty of tattoos besides that one, and when Zoro was bored, he liked to touch one and ask for its story. You always obliged him.
You'd been asleep for a while, so when you finally woke up, you stretched involuntarily, elbow sliding up and knocking Zoro's jaw. "Shit! Sorry." You mumbled, your hand moving to hold the spot you just abused.
"You're fine." He said, moving out of your way as you woke up fully. You stretched until your joints cracked and you fell back down on top of him, comfortable.
You then moved your eyes to the floor, for your shirt, which had been discarded earlier, when you couldn't handle the heat anymore.
You found it and pulled it towards you to put it back on. Zoro's hand stopped you. "Hmm?" You asked the question without a word. He pointed at your shoulder, where two hand drawn stars sat next to each other.
You sighed, but laid back against his bare chest again, shirt across your lap, your hand naturally touching the area. "I got these from my two closest friends from back home. I asked them to draw one star each before I left, and then got them tattooed at the first island I went to."
You looked up at Zoro. "Are you satisfied?" He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Yes." "Good, because I have to get dressed." His arms wrapped around to trap you, but you managed to evade him, taking a step away from the bed, just out of reach.
"Not so fast, swordsman, we're only going to be docked at this island for one more day, and I've got things to do."
You had to leave him alone for the surprise to work. He complained, but you promised him you'd be back in time for dinner, hoping he didn't see the slip of paper sticking out of your pocket.
It had been a while since you'd been at a village that had a tattoo artist, and you had instantly made plans.
Today was the day. You walked into the shop, placing the drawing on the counter. "Can you do this?" The woman at the front took a look from the paper to your face. "Sit down."
And so you once again sat in a chair while an artist slowly inked your skin to perfection. This one was on the inside of your bicep, and although you had become relatively accustomed to the pain, you would always feel the perpetual sting of the needle.
After hours of work and a few minutes to recuperate, you were ready to go. You thanked the artist, tipped them kindly, and headed back to the ship. The sleeve of your shirt covered the bandage put over the tattoo, protecting the ink from any outside factors until it had set in. You knew Zoro was bound to see it, and his curiosity would get the better of him, as it always did when it came to your ink stained skin.
You did arrive in time for dinner, arm aching, but heart feeling pretty good about what you had done.
You ate dinner with only slight banter between Zoro and Sanji, which calmed down immediately after you rested a hand on Zoro's thigh, a warning squeeze given to make sure he knew what he was getting into.
When night fell, you were luckily not scheduled for night watch, and neither was Zoro, which meant the two of you were able to hold each other all night long.
When you removed your shirt, Zoro immediately noticed the bandage. "What happened?" He demanded, worried if you had gotten hurt. "Nothing, it's a surprise."
Zoro raised an eyebrow, knowing it was a tattoo by the very glint in your eye. "What is it?" "Wouldn't you like to know?"
He stepped forward, an arm carefully looping around your waist. "I would." He rested his chin on your shoulder, nose gently brushing your neck.
"Well you're just going to have to wait." You danced out of his reach, giving him a teasing smile. "You can ask about any of the others, I'm an open book." You said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "But I want to see what's on this page." He insisted.
"I got this one in honour of my mother, did you know that?" You pointed at a small heart on the back of your wrist. "Got it because everyone said she wore her heart on her sleeves. And I got this one-" you pointed at a small dragonfly below your ribs, "after losing a beloved travel companion."
Zoro drew closer. "I know those stories, what is this one?" He tapped the bandage curiously. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him gently. "I guess you'll have to wait to find out."
The weeks of healing did nothing but ramp up Zoro's excitement for the reveal of your tattoo. The rest of the crew slowly learned of its existence (Sanji told them all immediately after seeing you in a tank top post-workout) and everyone was excited to see the addition to the artistry on your body.
Zoro fared the worst, trying every manner of ways to get you to spill the beans about the patch of skin hidden under that bandage.
At first, he had tried to trick you into telling him, pointing at random tattoos, then moving to the patch on your arm.
"This one." A cloud dripping rain. "Got lost in a storm and nearly died." "This one." A crudely drawn smiley face. "A young girl in one of the first places I traveled with you gave that drawing to me."
"This one." The pad on your bicep. You tutted at him gently. "I got that one recently. The story is hardly over yet, is it?" Zoro just grumbled, poking a tattoo on your side, then ticking the skin. "Ah! Zoro stop!" You tried to squirm away from him, but he pulled you back in. Eventually, your squeals were loud enough to have Sanji burst into your room, afraid something bad had happened to you. That was the end of that.
When his initial plan failed, Zoro tried to make you jealous. He ignored you when possible. You just laughed at the fact his foolish attempt to make you desperate for him backfired and had him crawling back to you after only one day.
After one whole day of sitting away from you during meals, working out on his own and moving away from you when you tried to nap with him, Zoro entered your bedroom, seeing you reading your newest book.
"Good evening, my beloved Zoro, are you going to ignore me in bed too?" You asked, crossing your arms, a finger keeping your place in the book. "Or shall you sleep in another room?"
"Shut up." He pressed his lips to yours and you expertly picked up your bookmark from your bedside, slotting it into your book, and setting the book on the nightstand before draping your arms around Zoro's neck and kissing him back twice as hard.
"When did you start to break?" You asked into his ear with a smile. "After lunch, when I napped alone." He replied, kissing your neck, his breath warming you. "Nice try, Zoro." "Fuck you." "I love you too."
Finally, he just started begging. Any time you were alone, he would just ask stubbornly.
"What is it?" "I'm not telling you." "What is it?" "Zoro, darling." You caressed his cheek, that combined with your pet name making him shiver. "I'll uncover it in front of you so you can see it first. I'll make sure no one else is in the room so you'll be the only one to see it, okay?"
He liked the sound of that, but it didn't satiate his curiosity.
When the day you removed the covering for good finally arrived, Zoro was practically shaking to see what it was.
The two of you were in your room. You sat on the bed, and Zoro stood in front of you, arms crossed nonchalantly, as if he didn't actually care. But you knew better. You knew that he was so glad to know the wait was over.
"I need you to take a deep breath." You instructed, making sure he was calm before seeing your arm.
He did. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and an involuntary smile took over your face. You'd been just as excited as he was for this moment.
You peeled back the padding and exposed the tattoo to him. He took your arm carefully, examining the new patch of ink.
Three sheathed swords crossed over each other. Intricate patterns decorate the hilts and the sheaths, perfectly identical to the ones hanging from his hip.
You had studied his belt many times in order to get the details just right for your design.
Zoro's heart stopped for a second as he processed what you had just showed him. He stared for a while, trying to understand.
"I got this one for the love of my life." You explained gently, your heart beating anxiously in your chest. "He's a swordsman. A damn good one. He's going to be the best in the world." Zoro remained unmoving. "I love him."
Zoro just looked up at your face. There was an intensity in his eyes that showed you every emotion he was feeling. "I love you too." He reached up and pressed his lips to yours. Passionate. That was the first word to come to mind.
He damn near tackles you onto the mattress. You feel fluttery. It had been well worth the wait.
His kisses trail down your neck and across your shoulder until his lips touch the inside of your bicep, the spot that holds the swords.
"Was it worth waiting for?" You ask, looking down at him. To answer, he just returns his lips to yours. You can sense his barely contained excitement. He is actually smiling on your lips. He's giddy.
"Wait until the stupid chef sees this." He says breathlessly, his lips parting from your body just long enough for you to capture him in a kiss.
"Tell me more about that tattoo." He begs as he flips you over him, manoeuvring your bodies so his back is pressed against the bed and you lay on top of him, arms circling around his head so he can see the tattoo in the corner of his eye.
"Well I already told you, but I'm deeply in love with this swordsman," you look into the distance dreamily as you give your explanation. He continues to kiss you as you speak. "And I love him so much, it's impossible to express with words. No other person has made me feel like this. He's got this smile that makes my stomach flip, and the prettiest eyes. Don't even get me started on how he looks when he's fighting." Zoro gives you a cocky smile.
He pulls back, sitting up. You follow suit, sitting back on your knees, watching as he pulls the collar of his shirt away, revealing a rough scar digging into his right shoulder. "Can I tell you about this scar?" You laugh, but nod anyway, knowing everything about that scar, from the person who gave it to him to the final bandage that was wrapped around it.
"The love of my life was fighting by my side." You move forward, pressing yourself sideways against his chest, looping an arm around his neck, your hand hovering over his scar. "And some asshole tried to stab them." You fake a gasp. "So, idiot that I am, I shoved my body in the way." As you listen, your hand gently brushes over his scar the same way he caresses your tattoos.
"What did the love of your life think of that little stunt?" You ask, teasing.
He sighs. "They thought I was stupid for risking myself but I don't mind it one bit. It's a small price to pay for their life."
"And what did they do when they saw you had been injured?" "They saw what the asshole had done and killed him."
He turns to look at you, pulling you close. "They are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Every day they impress me and they inspire me to keep going. To get stronger, be better. Not just for myself. For them. If I were to lose them, I don't know what I would do with myself." You gently rub the scar again. "I'm not going anywhere Zoro."
"I love you so much." He mumbles. "I don't say it often, but-" "I know." You reassure, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "I know."
He holds you close for a bit and you feel him press his lips to the soft skin of your bicep again. He really likes the tattoo.
"Now, would you like to rub this in the stupid chef's face?"
Zoro grins once more. "Yes."
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dtrghost · 1 year
Text
closeness and proximity
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Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!
pairing: ghost x f!reader
synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.
warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.
I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.
if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.
(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word count: 3.4k
"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.
The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.
"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.
Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.
He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.
"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.
Had she done this all by herself?
He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.
"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.
"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.
Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.
He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.
"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.
"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.
"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.
Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.
"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.
The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.
"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.
"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.
"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.
War.
Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.
"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...
Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.
"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.
"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.
"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."
"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.
"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."
"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.
He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.
She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.
"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.
"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.
"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.
"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.
"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.
"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.
"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.
"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.
"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.
"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.
"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.
"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."
She was a child.
That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.
"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.
"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?
"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.
Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.
When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.
"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.
"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.
Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.
"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.
"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.
"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.
"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.
"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.
"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.
"Envy, huh."
"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.
"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.
"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.
She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.
"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.
"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.
Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.
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And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.
See you guys next time!!
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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 months
Note
Hi! I was the anonymous requester who you said your new fic coming out forever my heart sounds like! If possible could you make it separate so I’ll have more to read! Also if you could add Kylian being her first everything like even kiss!
This is the longest fic I've written up to date and I'm beat. Sorry it came out a little later than I planned.
Love Heals
Masterlist
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — request: «Ok please make this long again but maybe something with Kylian where reader had a really hard life working full time sometimes overtime and multiple jobs with an abusive family while going to school like her sister would bully her, mom abuse her and dad was neglectful and her jobs were terrible too like she has burns from working fast food and him being emotional and shocked because she is so happy all the time and her finally deciding to tell him after a long time like something like a fight or something like he proposes to her makes her tell him and how she is scared to trust him and tells him shes looking to get married»
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 11.k
Warnings! ANGST!! Abuse, abusive family, injury, violence, burns, referencing to past hurts, depictions of violence, insecurities, anxiety, trauma, self-conscious reader, anxious reader FLUFF! lots of comfort, protective Kylian, he would kill for you, mild smut at the end, unprotected sex, soft sex, soft Kylian
The restaurant was busier than usual tonight.
Every table seemed to fill as quickly as it was cleared, and you found yourself darting between the kitchen and the dining area without a moment to catch your breath. The clatter of dishes and the murmur of voices blended into a chaotic symphony around you.
The only thing you could do to get the orders done on time was to run. Your feet were aching in pain, you were so tired you felt like collapsing to the ground. Your hands were shaking, you were holding three plates in one hand.
Despite the ache in your legs and the fatigue weighing down your shoulders, you pushed forward. You had to.
This is how your typical day went— gruesome, tiring, a relentless cycle of exhaustion that demanded everything you had to give.
As you hurried past a table, a customer’s voice cut through the chaos, harsh and dismissive.
“Hey!” the man shouted, “You messed up my order again.”
You froze, the plates of food suddenly too heavy to hold. Your heart sank as you turned around to face the angry customer. You immediately recognized him. Sam.
He had come to the restaurant a few weeks ago and tried to flirt with you. You turned him down, and ever since, he had made it his mission to make your life a living hell.
He comes in every day and just harasses you, knowing you can't really do anything about him because he's a customer.
You're usually good at handling the situation, most of the time just letting him run his mouth. Mostly just insults and catcalls. You endure it. But he's been ordering drinks all night, and the restaurant is packed.
Using all the patience you could muster, you took a deep breath and made your way to him. “I apologize, sir. What seems to be the problem?”
“I said you messed up my order, bitch,” he growled.
You flinched at his tone, feeling the familiar sting of shame. But you kept your composure. “I apologize for the inconvenience. May I know what you ordered so that I can correct the problem?”
Before you could take note of his order, he stood up. “Fuck you,” he sneered. He threw the glass of liquid at you. The strong alcoholic smell tells you that it's whiskey.
The cool beverage soaked your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of the burns you received earlier from the grill. You didn’t even notice the pain anymore, the stinging sensation was normal now.
“Get m-me a new... new drink!” he continued. His voice grew louder, and you could hear his slurred words. Drunk.
You could feel eyes on you, but you tried not to look anywhere. The customers and the waiters were all staring. You felt the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
"Excuse me." You heard a man's voice from the table next to Sam's. You looked over. A tall, handsome man was looking at you with concern.
He was seated with a group of friends, all of whom had stopped their conversation to watch the unfolding scene. The man stood up, his presence commanding immediate attention.
"Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm. His eyes, kind yet resolute, met yours for a brief moment before shifting to Sam.
Sam sneered at the newcomer. "This doesn't concern you," he slurred, his words barely coherent. "This is between me and her."
The man stepped closer, his posture unyielding, his body shielding you from Sam's view. For some reason, you felt safe with him here. "It does concern me. You're being abusive, and that's not acceptable."
Sam's face twisted in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he spat, trying to push the man away. But the man didn't budge.
With a calm yet authoritative voice, the unnamed man responded, "I'm someone who won't stand by and let you treat her like this." His tone was steady, unwavering, and it seemed to cut through the drunken haze clouding Sam's mind.
Sam glared at him, his drunken bravado faltering. "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" he challenged, though his voice wavered slightly.
The man glanced around, noticing the restaurant manager approaching with what seemed to be a concerned look. But you knew better.
Richard’s never cared for your well-being or any of his employees, for that matter. He was a money-hungry man who only cared about the restaurant’s reputation and how much money we were bringing in.
Working for him was a nightmare, but you had no choice. This was the highest-paying job you had and the only reason why you could pay your tuition for the semester.
He approached quickly, his eyes flicking between Sam and the newcomer, assessing the situation.
“Is everything alright here?” Richard asked, his voice tight. His eyes were piecing daggers at your form, and you subconsciously cowarded into the man standing next to you.
“Actually, it’s not,” the man said, turning to Richard. “This customer has been harassing your staff. It needs to stop.”
Richard’s expression hardened, though he managed a tight smile. “I see. I’ll handle it from here.” He glanced at you, a warning in his eyes, before turning to Sam. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Sam’s drunken rage flared again. “I’m not going anywhere! I’m a paying customer!” He shoved his chair back, nearly toppling it over, and lunged at Richard. But before he could do any more damage, the stranger intervened, stepping between them with practiced ease.
“Let’s not make this any worse,” the man said calmly, placing a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve had too much to drink. It’s time to go.” As he said that, two men from the table he was previously sat at stood up to join him, their presence reinforcing his authority. Sam looked between the three men, his drunken bravado quickly dissipating into defeat.
Richard, seizing the moment, nodded curtly. "I'll call you a cab," he said, signaling to one of the other waitstaff to assist. Sam, now subdued, allowed himself to be led away, grumbling under his breath but offering no further resistance.
The tension in the room slowly dissipated, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief while your stomach turned with dread. Richard was going to make you pay for this. For losing a customer. For causing a scene.
The tall, handsome man turned back to you, his expression softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning your soaked clothes and the fatigue etched on your face.
You nodded, though your voice betrayed you with a slight quiver. "Yes, thank you. I’m sorry you had to get involved."
He shook his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Don't be. No one should have to deal with that alone. I'm Kylian."
"Y/N," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Kylian said warmly, his eyes never leaving yours. He was about to say something else when Richard interrupted.
"Y/N I need to speak with you, now," Richard barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Kylian must've seen the fear in your eyes because he stepped closer to you, almost shielding you from Richard. Your heart fluttered at his gesture but you knew what would happen if you didn't listen.
You reached out a shaky hand and tapped him on the shoulder, your eyes silently communicating that you were okay. He stared at you for a second analyzing your features before nodding slightly and stepping out of the way, making you face Richard again.
Richard’s eyes narrowed at the interaction, wondering How you knew Kylian Mbappé. But decided not to say anything. He looked at you. "Go change your clothes. Meet me in my office in 10 minutes."
You nodded looking at Kylian one more time before scurrying away.
****
Kylian watched you leave, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. Something about you tugged at his heart, drawing him in.
He had first noticed you when he came in. You were a small, maybe 5'0. Your hair was dark, but he could tell it was dyed, your natural color peeking from the roots. You had soft eyes and full lips that seemed to curve into a smile every time you took an order. Your uniform hung loose on you, he could tell you were thin, but not in a healthy way. He had to do a double-take when he saw your name tag.
Y/N.
For some reason, it causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He decided then that before the night ended, he would talk to you. Charm you. Get your number.
He spent the whole night watching you as you bustled around the restaurant, taking orders and delivering food with a grace that belied the chaos that seemed to surround you.
And then he saw Sam. The way he talked to you, the way he treated you, made Kylian's blood boil. He had been about to intervene when you came over to Sam’s table, and it was then that he noticed your arm.
Peaking just out of your sleeve was what looked like a burn. It was red, fresh. The sight made his heart clench. What happened to you? Did it hurt?
When Sam started yelling at you, Kylian knew he couldn't stay seated anymore. He stood up and had to fight the urge to punch Sam in the face when he threw a drink at you.
The restaurant bustled around Kylian as he watched you hurry away. Without thinking, his feet moved to follow you, but Hakimi caught his arm. "Hey, where are you going?"
"I just... I need to make sure she's okay," Kylian said, his voice filled with concern.
His friend raised an eyebrow but nodded, letting go of his arm. The look on Kylian's face was unlike anything he had ever seen. The pure concern in his eyes was so heavy that it took him back. He had never seen such desperation in the man. All to follow you.
Kylian nodded and made his way towards the back of the restaurant, following the path you had taken.
Meanwhile, in the small staff restroom, you stood in front of the mirror, trying to steady your breathing. The whiskey-soaked uniform clung to your skin, and the cold, damp fabric made you shiver. But the chill didn’t compare to the icy fear that gripped your heart.
Richard was going to be furious. You had to figure out how to calm him down before it was too late. You pulled off your uniform and began to change, your hands shaking as you tried to button up your spare shirt. You were so tired. Your body felt like a weight was pressing down on it, making it impossible to move.
A knock at the door startled you out of your reverie. “Hello, are you okay? Do you need any help?” a deep voice called out.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you realized it was Kylian. You quickly finished changing and opened the door, revealing him standing there, concern etched on his face. His eyes softened as he took in your appearance, still damp from the spilled drink but now clad in fresh clothes.
"Hey," he said gently, eyes scanning your figure for injuries. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."
You managed a small, grateful smile, touched by his genuine concern. "Thank you, I'm okay," you replied softly, though you couldn't hide the lingering unease in your eyes.
He nodded, his expression serious yet comforting. "Is there anything I can do?" Kylian asked, his tone sincere.
Before you could respond, a sharp voice interrupted from behind him. "Y/N, my office. Now." It was Richard, his impatience palpable.
You glanced nervously at Kylian, who met your gaze with a look you couldn't decipher. You forced a weak smile before hurrying past him towards Richard's office.
****
Kylian stood rooted to the spot, watching you disappear down the hallway. His stomach twisted with worry. But then he heard Richard’s voice, his words barely concealed by the thin office door. Kylian felt a knot of anger in his chest as he heard Richard berate you.
You were fired.
Kylian clenched his fists, barely controlling the urge to barge in and set Richard straight. But he knew that would only make things worse for you.
As soon as he saw you leave Richard’s office, he made his way over to you. “Are you okay,” he repeated. It's all he seemed to ask you since you met him. It made your heart flutter how much he cared. Even if he didn't know you.
You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He felt his chest clench with regret. If he had known Richard was going to fire you, he would've never left you alone. “yeah, I'm fine, ” you sniffled, forcing a smile.
He reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. Your skin was soft, delicate. You froze at his touch and he quickly removed his hand.
Contrôle toi, mon vieux, c'est pas le temps. He scolded himself.
The air became awkward as you stared at each other. His fingers itched to touch you again. He cleared his throat breaking the silence. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice low. You shook your head.
“No, I’ll be okay.”
Kylian sighed. He couldn't leave you like this. “Can I at least drive you home?” he asked, his tone hopeful.
You hesitated, your instincts telling you to refuse, but the exhaustion in your body won you over. "I... I guess that would be okay," you murmured.
Kylian's face brightened with relief. "Great. Let me just grab my things."
As he walked back to his table to collect his belongings, you took a moment to steady yourself. Tonight had been draining, emotionally and physically, and the idea of spending a few more moments with him was strangely comforting.
You didn't know what to make of Kylian's attention, but right now, you would enjoy every bit you could get.
Kylian returned quickly, his friends giving him knowing looks as he walked away. He led you to the door, a protective hand gently guiding you out of the crowded restaurant.
****
The car ride was quiet, with the only sound being the soft hum of the music playing from the speakers. You couldn't help but stare at Kylian as he drove.
He was handsome. Tall and lean. His skin was dark, a soft brown. His eyes were brown, the deepest you had ever seen. He had nice lips and a sharp jawline.
He looked back at you every now and then, checking that you were still there. The gesture made a warmth bloom in your chest.
Never had anyone stood up for you the way he had. A complete stranger at that. Even though you had just met, and it was stupid of you to get into a stranger's car and let him drive you home. You had never felt more safe than in this moment. With him. Beside him.
You wanted him to keep driving, take you far away from everything.
The halt of the car jolted you out of your trance. Kylian looked at you, his eyes soft. "We're here," he said. "Is this your house?"
You nodded, not wanting to get out.
Kylian got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. He took your hand, helping you out, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You didn't want him to let go. "Thank you for everything," you said softly, shyly glancing up at him.
He smiled, his lips curving up and his eyes twinkling. "Anytime Y/N."
And with that, you turned around and made your way to the house.
****
Kylian watched as you disappeared behind the front door. His chest felt heavy, his thoughts consumed by you. He missed you already.
He had never felt this way about someone before. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He felt a strange pull towards you, a feeling he couldn’t explain. All he knew was he wanted to spend more time with you. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to hold you.
Kylian made his way back into his car, starting the engine and pulling away from your house. His mind was whirling with thoughts of you.
Just as he pulled into his driveway he remembered something. He never got your number.
****
It was weeks before you would see him again.
This time at the bookstore you worked at. He walked in with a teenager by his side. And judging by the uncanny resemblance between the two, you could tell they were brothers.
You felt your stomach drop at the sight of him. Before he could notice you, you quickly fixed the scarf around your neck where your father's handprint lay fresh and prayed to God your concealer was thick enough to mask the bruise on your face.
You busied yourself behind the counter, stealing glances when you could. They were in the school supplies section, browsing. His brother was animatedly discussing something with him, his gestures mirroring Kylian's in a way that was both heartwarming and bittersweet for you.
You smoothed your scarf nervously, a habit that now concealed more than just your attire, hiding the marks you hoped no one would notice.
As they approached the checkout, Kylian looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the world seemed to pause.
Your throat felt dry and your knees grew weak. The stare he was giving you was an intense one. One that made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
You stayed like that for a while. Just staring at each other. His brother stood beside him oblivious to the unspoken exchange, chattering on excitedly.
Then he smiled. It was a gentle smile, one that made you feel warm. He began to walk towards you leaving his brother behind to do more browsing and approached the counter. Your heart pounded in your chest and your mouth felt dry.
"Hi," he said, his voice soft. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. But you didn't know what.
"Hi," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward on the counter, his body angling towards you in a way that felt like a secret. You felt his scent surround you. It was spicy and musky. Your chest fluttered in response.
"I thought I'd never see you again," he said, his voice filled with a longing. Your heart skipped a beat. The tone of his voice, the way he was looking at you. It was almost overwhelming. Never had someone regarded you with such care, such intent.
You felt like a flower being basked in the warm sunlight for the first time.
You managed a small smile. "Yeah, me too," you said, your voice small.
He smiled back. Your stomach clenched. You love his smile. Love the way it made you feel safe, wanted.
He looked like he was about to say something when his brother interrupted him, holding a stack of supplies. "Kylian, come pay for this," his brother said. Kylian nodded, reaching for his wallet.
As he began to unload the stuff from his brother's arms onto the counter, his gaze locked with yours again. He didn't speak but instead held your eyes with an intensity you couldn't understand.
You managed to break the contact by looking down and started to ring up the items.
When you were done and Kylian had paid, his brother thanked you. His smile was sweet and genuine. Kylian looked at you, his eyes searching yours.
You felt like he was trying to say something, but he didn't speak. Instead, he reached out and took one of your hands in his. His palm was warm. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the contact.
"Can I have your number?" he asked, his voice filled with hope. You felt a warmth spread in your chest at his words.
You froze at his words. No one had ever asked you for your number before. At least, no boy.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. The idea of giving out your number both excited and terrified you. Did you really want to be his friend? As your stepmother always said you tend to bring more harm than good into people's life.
And Kylian was such a good person.
Could you really burden him like that? Suffocate him with your baggage. You weren't meant to be loved. Clearly. After all even your own father didn't want you. Why would he?
You knew that once he got to know the truth about you he would run for the hills. You didn't want to get attached to him only for him to leave you. Heck, you could already feel yourself tearing up at the thought.
But then, looking into Kylian's earnest eyes, you saw something different. Something you both desperately craved. The need to be loved. To be seen.
Slowly, you nodded, your heart racing. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible but filled with a newfound resolve.
Relief washed over Kylian's face, followed by a soft smile that lit up his features. He's so beautiful, you thought. He handed you his phone, the screen already lit up with the phone app open. With trembling fingers, you entered your number, feeling nerves twisting in your guts.
"Thank you," he said sincerely as he took back his phone, typing a quick message to ensure your number was saved. Your phone pinged beside you, the screen lighting up with the message 'Hi.' from an unknown number. You couldn't help but smile.
Unbeknownst to you, Kylian saw it. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And he's met a lot of women. It was no secret to the world that Kylian Mbappé was a heartthrob, sought after by many.
But in that quiet moment at the bookstore counter, he gave himself to you. Mind, soul, and hopefully if all goes according to his plan, body.
He was yours.
He emptied out the space in his heart and placed you there, a refuge from the stormy world you knew too well. It scared him what he was ready to do for you. After all, he didn't even know you.
And yet, in that instant, everything felt right. His instincts, usually so finely tuned on the field, told him that you were worth the risk.
As he glanced at his brother, who was waiting impatiently by the door, Kylian knew he had to go, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet.
"I have to run," he said reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I really want to talk to you more. Can we meet sometime?"
His question once again made you hesitate. But looking into his soft brown eyes made you melt. So you decided right then that you would enjoy his company for as long as he wanted you and would mourn his loss when he would eventually leave.
You nodded, unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. "Sure," you managed to say, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness.
"Great," he replied, his smile widening. "I'll text you."
With that, he squeezed your hand gently before turning to leave with his brother, who was now calling him urgently. You watched them walk away, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you—hope, disbelief, and a hint of fear.
As the door closed behind them, you leaned back against the counter, replaying the brief encounter in your mind. Could this be real? Was this some sick prank your stepsister was playing on you?
The last thought wasn't far-fetched considering all the other horrible things she had done to you. But for once you hope with all your might that it wasn't.
You glanced at your phone, seeing his message still displayed. The word "Hi." seemed to hold so much promise.
For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.
****
The weeks that followed were amazing.
Every time your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian, your heart skipped a beat. He was surprisingly persistent, often texting just to check in, share something funny, or ask about your day. Each conversation felt like a lifeline, a small escape from the turmoil of your daily life.
It felt good to have someone care.
You met Kylian a few more times after that encounter at the bookstore.
He would invite you to charming little places tucked away in the quieter parts of the city, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption. Where you could forget the bad shit in your life and simply enjoy his company.
Kylian was easy to talk to, his presence soothing and his laughter infectious. He listened with genuine interest when you spoke, his eyes never leaving yours as if you were the girl person in the world. The only thing that mattered.
He introduced you to a side of life you had never known—A life you had only ever dreamed about. A complete contrast to the coldness you were used to. A glimpse of what could be if you dared to dream.
But as much as light Kylian brought into your life, doubts gnawed at you.
How long until he left you? How long until he saw the bruises you couldn’t hide? The pain you couldn't mask?
You feared the day he would look at you with pity or, worse, regret. Each time he texted or called, a small part of you braced for disappointment.
But that day never came.
Instead, he surprised you. Time and time again. Like right now.
You stood outside the bookstore, your breath fogging up in the cool evening air. Kylian had texted you earlier, asking if you could meet him after your shift.
His messages were usually funny and easygoing, but this one had a sort of seriousness that made you nervous.
As you waited, you replayed last night. He had Facetimed you late into the night, just to chat about nothing and everything. Like you usually did, but something was different that time. He was flirting with you.
At first, you thought it was just your imagination. How could Kylian Mbappé possibly have a crush on you? But as the night wore on and the playful glint in his eyes and compliments got more and more obvious, you couldn't deny it anymore.
Not with the way he looked at you through the screen. The way his voice softened when he said your name—it all pointed to one undeniable truth.
One you were too afraid to face.
"Hey," a familiar voice called out, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You turned to see Kylian's head peeking out of his G-Wagon, waving at you. His smile was as bright as ever, making your heart race.
"Hey," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. You walked over quickly, excited.
As you approached the car, he opened the passenger door for you, always the gentleman. "Hop in," he said, his tone cheerful but with an undertone of something more serious.
You settled into the seat, the warmth of the car contrasting to the chilly evening outside. Kylian glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your face a moment longer than usual. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softening.
You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit tired from work."
He seemed to accept your answer, though his eyes still held a hint of concern. "I thought we could hang out at my place," he said, starting the car.
Your heart skipped a beat.
"Sure," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flurry of emotions within you. You had never been to his place. The idea of spending time at his place felt both thrilling and intimidating.
The drive was filled with easy conversation, Kylian telling you about his day at training and a funny story about Hakimi and Ousmane. You laughed at his stories, feeling more at ease with each passing minute.
It wasn't long before you arrived at his apartment, marveling at the modern building towering above you. Kylian led you inside, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a touch that made your skin tingle.
His place was spacious and elegant, filled with personal touches that made it feel warm and inviting. You noticed photographs of his family, friends, and teammates scattered around, giving you an intimate glimpse into his life.
"Make yourself at home," he said, smiling as he gestured to the living room. "Want something to drink? Water, juice, maybe some tea?"
"Tea please," you replied, settling onto the large plush couch. You watched as he moved to the kitchen, his movements fluid and graceful. It was hard to believe that he was real sometimes. You felt lucky that you got to know him like this. See him like this.
When he returned with two steaming mugs, you accepted yours gratefully, wrapping your hands around it for warmth. He sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat from his body.
"So," he began, his tone casual but his eyes serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."
Oh, no.
Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety creeping in. Was this it? Was this him leaving you? Telling you he didn't want to be friends with you anymore?
But instead of delivering bad news, Kylian's expression softened, his gaze gentle yet determined. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he said sincerely, his voice quiet in the cozy ambiance of his living room. "And I want to be honest with you."
You held your breath, unsure of where his words would lead.
"I like you," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "More than just as a friend."
Your heart pounded in your chest, disbelief evident on your face. What?
"I've been thinking a lot about us," he confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About you. And every time I do, I realize how much I care about you. Want to be with you." He reached out, gently holding your hands in his large ones.
Your mind reeled, trying to process his words. Did he really mean what he was saying? Or was this all some cruel joke?
You glanced at him, your eyes meeting his, searching for any hint of it being a lie. But all you saw was sincerity. The same sincerity you had come to know from him.
He truly believed what he was saying. But how?
"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest fluttered at the thought of him liking you romantically.
"I mean I want to be with you," he said simply, his eyes holding yours. "As your boyfriend if that's something you want too."
Your heart pounded harder at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions flood through you—surprise, joy, and a lingering trace of fear. The idea of someone like Kylian wanting to be with you romantically seemed almost too good to be true.
"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to steady it. You looked down at your hands, unsure of how to process your feelings.
Kylian squeezed your hands gently, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "Take your time. I just wanted you to know how I feel."
His words were comforting, his presence grounding. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze once more. "I... I like you too," you confessed, "But... I don't know if you should." Your voice was shaky as you whispered the words.
Kylian's brows furrowed at your words.
"Why shouldn't I?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. His concern was evident in his eyes, but there was also a determination that showed he would be easily dissuaded.
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "Because... because I'm not... I'm not who you think I am," you admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable. "There are things about me... things I haven't told you."
Kylian listened attentively, his expression softening as he waited for you to continue. "I have a lot of baggage," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "And... and sometimes things happen that... that I can't control." You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't want to burden you with my problems."
He was silent for a moment, processing your words. When he spoke again, his voice was steady, soft, loving. "You're not a burden," he said firmly, lifting your chin gently so you had to meet his gaze. The intensity in them made your heart beat faster. "Whatever you've been through, whatever you're facing... you don't have to face it alone." His eyes searched yours. "I care about you," he continued softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "And I want to be there for you, in whatever way you'll let me."
Tears welled up in your eyes. "But... what if... what if you find out things about me and you..." Your voice broke, the fear of rejection clawing at your heart. You couldn't lose him. Not with how well he treats you. How he makes you feel. You need him.
Kylian's expression softened even more, his eyes desperately trying to convey the deep affection he felt for you. "I'm not going anywhere," he said gently, his words filled with conviction. "I want to know all of you, Y/N. The good, the bad, everything." He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "If you'll let me."
You searched his eyes, finding only sincerity. You were so used to people lying to you that you had become a master at sniffing it out. But his eyes held no lie. Only truth. A truth that made your heart explode.
Maybe, just maybe, this could be real. A chance at happiness you never thought possible.
"I... I want to try," you said finally, your voice wavering. You cleared your throat and repeated, "I want to be with you."
A smile spread across Kylian's face at your words. Yes, he thought doing a little victory dance in his head. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands still gently holding yours. "Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you for giving us a chance."
The stare between the two of you grew heavy, a longing for something more.
As if sensing your thoughts, Kylian's eyes dropped to your lips, his gaze lingering there a moment before moving back to meet your eyes. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of his lips on yours. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible but dripping with need.
Without hesitation, Kylian leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like coming home. It was a slow, tender kiss that sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter in your chest. Your first kiss.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in him, your hearts beating in tandem.
When the kiss ended, it left you breathless, Kylian smiling against your lips. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. "And I'm never letting you go."
****
The warm air from the heater greeted you as you walked further into your house. You were just coming back from the library after completing a group project that was due next week.
It had gone well, despite the stress the people you were working with brought you.
Your mind wandered briefly to Kylian, as it often did now whenever you found a moment of peace. You guys were official now. And every moment has been nothing but pure bliss.
You finally felt like you were starting to understand what happiness was.
You closed the door behind you sighing with relief, grateful for the warmth after enduring the cold at the bus stop. You missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one in the freezing cold. All you wanted now was to get into bed and text Kylian until you feel asleep.
You were taking off your shoes when you felt it. A hand yanking the back of your hair, pulling your head backward. You tried to scream but a slap silenced you.
"Thought you were smart, didn't you?" your stepmother spat, her voice filled with malice. "Thought you could fool us? You whore!" She let go of your hair, giving you a hard shove. You stumbled backward, landing on your hands and knees.
"So this is why you've been coming back home with that stupid smile on your face every day. You're fucking Kylian Mbappé," she hissed, her eyes blazing with anger.
Your heart sank.
How did she know? Had your stepsister told her? How did they find out?
You had to get out of there or they would...
You scrambled to your feet, ready to run, but a kick in your stomach sent you falling back down. Your stepmother loomed over you, her eyes wild with rage. "You fucking slut!" She kicked you hard in the ribs. "You little whore!" She kicked you again, making you double over in pain. "You will regret ever looking at him," she threatened as she continued to beat you. You were powerless against her kicks and slaps.
She stopped finally, panting. "Get up," she snarled, her voice filled with hate. "Now!"
You struggled to get up, your body screaming in pain. Your stepsister was watching you with hatred in her eyes. She was holding your phone. The same phone that had the lock screen image of you and Kylian from a recent outing. His arm was around your shoulders, both of you laughing at something silly he had said.
The picture had been taken by a fan who had asked to take a photo with Kylian. But she had noticed him put his arm around you, and instead of asking for a selfie, she had snapped a photo of the two of you instead.
It was your favorite picture, something you looked at whenever you needed to be reminded that all of this was real. That you weren't dreaming. That someone like Kylian truly cared for you.
You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched your stepsister throw your phone on the floor, her heel stomping on it.
The screen shattered under her heel.
You wanted to cry, but you were too scared. You had seen the anger in your stepmother's eyes. You knew you would be dead if you cried.
"You'll pay for this," your stepsister sneered, glaring at you with all the hate in the world.
You yelped as your stepmother grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. "You'll learn your place," she snarled, her breath hot against your ear. "And we'll teach you."
A whimper escaped you as she dragged you toward the basement, your stepsister following close behind.
You knew what was coming.
Your heart raced with fear as they dragged you towards the basement, the familiar dread tightening your chest. Each step hurt you as they dragged you down them. They would leave bruises that would last weeks. You know this from experience.
Your mind raced looking for a way out, but finding none. There never was. But for some reason, you held out hope.
The basement door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room that smelled of dampness and decay. This was where they often took their anger out on you, where their punishments lurked in the shadows, waiting to be inflicted.
You trembled as they shoved you forward, the concrete floor cold against your hands and knees.
"Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. But your stepmother's grip on your hair tightened, silencing any further plea. The air thickened as they circled around you. Like vultures. Predators.
And you were the prey.
"You think you're better than us," your stepsister spat, her face contorted with venom. "Fucking him just because he's famous. Pathetic. He doesn't want you anyway, look at you."
You bit back tears, fighting the urge to scream, knowing it would only provoke them further. Her words stung more than the cuts on your body. And your mind started to believe her.
Maybe she was right.
Pain seared through you as another blow landed. In the haze of torment, you closed your eyes, desperately clinging to the memory of Kylian's warmth, his gentle words.
His face, his smile, the way he defended you against the world. You would miss him.
You knew this was the end. You could feel it.
Your body was numb and you were dipping in and out of consciousness, the pain and fear overwhelming. As darkness threatened to consume you, memories of Kylian flooded your mind.
You recalled the first time you met him, how his genuine kindness had shattered the walls around your heart. The quiet moments stolen between you, where he'd hold your hand and promise you a future where no one could hurt you. Leaving sweet kisses on your lips.
You'll miss his eyes the most, you think. Those deep, comforting eyes that always saw through your pain and whispered hope into your soul. Even now, battered and broken, he's all you can think of.
As darkness closed in, you clung to the image of him, willing yourself to survive for him, for the promise of a better tomorrow he represented.
Despite the agony, a faint smile flickered on your lips as you drifted into unconsciousness, imagining his arms around you, shielding you from the cruelty of the world.
****
Kylian was a man of instinct.
It's why he dominated on the field and off. His senses were sharp, attuned to the slightest shifts in energy around him. Never missing the slightest detail.
That's why, when he hadn't heard from you all evening, a knot of unease twisted in his gut.
You had always texted him after getting home, no matter how late. It was a routine for you. And you were a very routine-oriented person, so he knew you didn't forget.
As the hours ticked by without a word from you, Kylian's concern grew into a gnawing worry.
He replayed the events of the day in his mind, recalling your smile as you parted ways after he'd dropped you off at the library. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to his lips, but it did little to ease his growing anxiety.
He had offered to pick you but you had declined. You could tell he was tired from training and you didn't know when you would be done. So you told him you would take the bus instead and promised to call him.
He tried calling you, but each attempt went straight to voicemail. Panic began to creep into his chest, tightening with each unanswered ring. He paced his living room, his mind racing through possibilities, none of them pleasant.
Finally, unable to wait any longer, Kylian made a decision. Grabbing his car keys, he headed out into the freezing night, his thoughts consumed with finding you, needing to ensure you were safe.
The drive to your house felt agonizingly long. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, urging the car to move faster. When he finally pulled up outside your home, a chilling sense of dread settled over him. Something wasn't right. At all.
He approached the front door cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest. The warm glow of light spilled out from the windows, contrasting sharply with the darkness that seemed to loom over the house. Kylian hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to knock.
No response.
His knocks grew louder, more insistent, but still, no one answered. Frustration and fear surged within him as he contemplated his next move. With a surge of determination, he tried the doorknob, praying it would yield. To his relief and horror, it did.
As he stepped inside, the silence of the house enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N? Mrs. Y/L/N?" he called out, his voice echoing through the hallway. No reply came.
The uneasiness deepened with each step he took further into the house. Every room he checked yielded no sign of you or anyone else. That is, until he reached the basement door.
A chill ran down his spine as he slowly opened the creaking door, revealing a scene that shattered his heart and ignited a rage unlike any he had ever felt. There you were, battered and bruised, huddled on the cold concrete floor.
Unconscious.
Kylian's world froze as he took in the sight before him. His heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you, vulnerable and broken on the basement floor. Rage surged through him, raw and primal, as he knelt beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your bruised face.
"Y/N, baby" he whispered, his voice choked with anguish and disbelief. "What have they done to you?"
His hands trembled as he carefully lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The bruises on your skin, the cuts that marred your once vibrant spirit, filled him with a fury he could barely contain. Tears blurred his vision as he held you close, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance, though he knew you couldn't hear him in your unconscious state.
He doesn't remember when or how he called the ambulance, but he did.
All he could focus on was you, your safety, your well-being. The minutes waiting for help felt like an eternity, his heart pounding with fear.
When the paramedics arrived, Kylian reluctantly let them take you, his hands lingering on yours as they wheeled you away. He couldn't bear to leave your side, but he knew he had to. He had justice to seek for what had been done to you.
He would make sure they rot. They would burn for what they did to you.
Hours passed in a blur of interviews, statements, and waiting. Kylian refused to rest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, praying silently for your recovery. He felt powerless, haunted by the image of your broken form in that basement, unable to protect you when you needed him most.
Finally, a doctor approached him with news. You were stable, physically battered but stable. Your ribs were broken and there were numerous bruises and cuts. Burns covered your arms but the doctor said they were old.
The burns he had seeen the first time he met you.
With each word that exited the doctor's he felt himself get weaker and weaker.
Just what have you been going through? And how had he not seen it? He felt like a horrible boyfriend. He had promised to protect but he failed. He failed you.
Kylian stayed by your side as much as the hospital allowed, holding your hand, talking to you, silently willing you to wake up and tell him that you would be okay.
He had called his mother the first night he stayed at the hospital. He knew he would have to leave you to answer police questions and the only person he trusted you to was her.
She was beside him the second he called. She knew something was wrong. He couldn't hide it anymore.
He had broken down in his mother's arms. Telling her everything.
She listened and didn't interrupt him once. She hugged him tighter, kissed his cheek, and whispered 'I'm proud of you' over and over. Then she sat next to him, waiting for you to wake up.
****
The first thing you felt when you woke up was his hand in yours. You blinked, disoriented, trying to recall what happened, but your mind was hazy and clouded. One of your eyes was swollen shut, making it hard to see clearly.
Pain radiated through your body, each breath sending sharp stabs through your chest. You groaned softly, the sound catching Kylian's attention instantly.
"Y/N," he whispered, there was a tremble to his words. "You're awake."
You turned your head towards him, your good eye focusing on his tear-streaked face. His fingers tightened around yours, as if afraid you might slip away again.
"Kylian..." Your voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but the relief in his eyes was palpable.
"Shh, don't try to talk," he murmured, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital. Everything's going to be okay."
You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. Instead, you squeezed his hand lightly, a silent acknowledgment of his words. Kylian's gaze never left your face, his eyes filled with love. Anguish.
The weight of your suffering was etched deeply into his features. He wished he could take your pain away. Switch places with you. Shield you. Protect you from all this. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have been there. I should have known."
You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming. Instead, you gave his hand another gentle squeeze, hoping he understood.
Kylian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if trying to transfer his strength to you. The quiet hum of the hospital room, the distant beeping of machines, and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat were the only sounds, grounding him in this moment.
His mother, who had been silently watching from the corner of the room, approached with a soft smile. "She's awake, Kylian. That's a good sign," she whispered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Kylian nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn't ease. He was grateful for his mother's presence. Her calm strength a lifeline in this sea of chaos. She had always been his rock, and now she would be yours. Extending that strength to you.
She turned to you and softly introduced herself, "Hi, Y/N. I'm Fayza, Kylian's mother. You're safe now, darling. We will take care of you. You just make sure you get as much rest as possible."
You managed a faint smile, your eyes tearing up at the warmth and kindness in her eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt the love of a mother.
Her words washed over you like water, drowning you in the security that only a maternal figure can make you feel. The tears that you desperately tried to hold in spilled over, tracing silent paths down your cheeks.
Fayza reached out, gently wiping them away with her palm and you found yourself leaning into her touch. But she didn't seem to mind. The room, despite its clinical sterility, seemed a little less cold with her there.
The days that followed were a blur of medical treatments and police interviews. Kylian stayed by your side.
He was there every moment he could be. Fayza took turns with him, ensuring you were never alone. Bring you food that she made and making sure you have everything you need. Especially love.
The police investigation moved forward, and Kylian was relentless in his pursuit of justice for you. He spent hours with the authorities, providing every detail he could remember, every scrap of evidence he could find. His determination was fueled by the image of you in that basement, a memory that haunted him and drove him forward.
Throughout your recovery, Kylian's teammates and friends offered their support. You were scared to meet them at first, afraid they would hate you for dragging their friend into your mess.
But they loved you. Becoming super overprotective and treating you like a little sister. They visited the hospital often, bringing flowers, cards, food. Anything you wanted.
Physical therapy was the hardest.
Your body was broken, to say the least. Fractured collar bone, multiple broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion that seemed to cloud your thinking.
Everyday was a battle a war within yourself.
Kylian was your constant companion through it all, encouraging you during the grueling sessions, holding your hand when the pain became unbearable.
It was weird at first having someone care for you like that.
But Kylian made it easy.
He learned your routine, anticipated your needs, and cheered your small victories as if they were monumental achievements. His love and patience never wavered, even on your toughest days. He was your anchor.
The worst of it was when he saw your scars for the first time helping you get ready for a bath.
He had been so careful, so gentle, as he helped you undress, but the moment his eyes fell on them, his breath caught in his throat. The sight of them, a cruel testament to the pain you had endured, tore at his heart.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling suddenly exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. Ugly. He was the first guy to see you like this and you hated how this bruised body was all you had to offer. But he didn't mind.
In fact that was the moment he realized he loved you.
His fingers traced the lines of your scars, as if to erase them. To erase the horrible past that caused them. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every part of you."
You blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his words. "I don't feel strong," you admitted softly, your voice trembling.
Kylian cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked on yours. "You survived," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That's strength, Y/N. You're here, fighting every day. That's what matters. And if you can't be strong, let me be your strength. Let me protect you. Let me love you."
You froze at his last sentence.
He had never said those words to you and neither have you to him. Your heart leaped in your chest at the raw honesty of which he said.
This time you didn't hesitate, didn't ponder.
You'd know for a while now that you loved him. How could you not? When he was the man that you prayed for. Your rock, your refuge, your protector, your lover. You loved every inch of this man and Finally. Finally you could tell him.
"I love you too, Kylian Mbappé."
He held you close that night, placing kisses on your shoulder as he held you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
****
Two years later...
You stood in front of the window, watching the tranquil view. The girl who reflected in the glass looked nothing like the girl from years ago. Your smile was radiant, your eyes sparkling with a happiness that only true love could bring.
Kylian had proposed to you six months ago, after the trial was over. Your family had been found guilty. Turns out your stepmother and sister were on the run. They thought they killed you that night so they fled, along with your father.
The thought of them being okay with just leaving your corpse to rot in the basement made your stomach turn every time you thought about it.
You shook the thoughts away. you weren't about to let them ruin your day. not anymore.
Your wedding was small. A private ceremony with close friends and family. You had chosen a beautiful vineyard as the setting, overlooking rolling hills and sun-kissed grapevines. The familiar scent of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the laughter of your guests.
The afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced along the paths between rows of vines.
Kylian stood at the end of the aisle, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that still made your heart skip a beat. He wore a classic black tuxedo that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. Looking absolutely amazing.
You really married him.
Ethan walked you down the aisle. The two of you had gotten really close after Kylian had officially introduced you. He considered you family, a big sister. Someone he could come to for advice, which he often did. He was super protective sometimes rivaling Kylian.
Which was saying something.
Ever since Kylian found you in that basement, battered and bruised, he felt this urge to always be by your side. This urgent need. It scared him sometimes, how much he loved you. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
You were his whole world. The love of his life. His last love. The reason his heart beats.
As Ethan placed your hand in Kylian's, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting everyone in a warm, golden light. Kylian looked like he was glowing. You will never forget that view for as long as you live.
Now that you were closer, you realized he was crying. You smiled at your groom, feeling the weight of your love for him in your chest.
Kylian's eyes locked on yours, love pouring out of them. You knew he would love you for all eternity. And you loved him the same. You were home.
"I love you," you whispered softly, looking into his eyes.
Kylian's lips curved into a sweet smile, his voice filled with emotion. "Je t'aime, mon âme."
The officiant pronounced you husband and wife, and Kylian swept you into a passionate kiss, the cheers of your guests fading into the background. In his arms, you felt whole, complete.
And you both knew that no matter what came next, you would face it together. You had found each other in this chaotic world, and nothing else mattered.
The feel of arms wrapping around your waist pull you out of your daydream as soft kisses are placed on your shoulder. You lean back into Kylian's embrace, smiling as his lips travel up your neck.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
You turn around, meeting his eyes.
"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you reply honestly. "About how much you've changed my life."
Kylian's arms tighten around you. "You're the one that's changed my life, Y/N. You're my reason for living." He tilts your chin up, capturing your gaze. "And I promise you, mon amour, that I'll love you until the day I die. That I'll make you happy for all eternity. Je t'aime." He seals his promise with a burning kiss.
The type that leaves your skin burning and heat pooling between your thighs.
His arms around you grow tighter as his kiss grows deeper. Soon he's walking you backwards to the bed. You fall on your back with a laugh but it's silenced by another kiss.
He starts to take off his shirt. You can barely think straight at the sight of his abs. Even after two years of having him to yourself you still get weak in the knees. Your panties already damp from that kiss.
His lips start traveling south as he pulls up the shirt you're wearing(his), exposing your body to him. The softness of the bed comforts your back as his heavy form press more into you. You gasp into his wet mouth, feeling his covered hardness press against your thigh.
His hands push up your shirt and massage the softness of your tummy on his way up to your covered breast. He backs from your lips to look at your fluttering eyes. “Can I?” his voice deep with lust and adoration for you, no matter how many times the two of you do this, he’s never lost the habit of asking.
“Always,” you whisper against his swollen lips, pulling him back into your lips. He lifts your shirt over your head and unclasps your bra, rubbing his thumbs over your harding buds. You moan from the contact into his mouth, a soft groan from his throat in response.
“Kylian,” your voice goes up an octave from the fire of his touches.
“Trésor,” he responds, kissing down your chin to your neck, placing soft kisses into your supple skin. “Je t'aime.”
His fingers slip down to the hem of your panties, pulling them off in one quick motion. He kisses down your belly, placing light kisses all the way down to your inner thigh. You whine, spreading your thighs in invitation.
“Patience, my love,” he chuckles, his breath fanning over your covered heated core. “I want to make you come on my tongue.”
Your eyes flutter close at his words.
He tugs your jeans and underwear off, discarding them somewhere in the spacious hotel room.
His grip is tight on your thighs as he gets down so he's at eye level with your cunt. He groans at the sight, wet and inviting.
A treat.
He places a soft kiss on the folds before taking in as much of you as he can into his mouth. He's good, really good. Your body arches and twitches with every moan ripped from your throat.
He's messy too, with loud slurping and quick inhales mixed with groaning coming from between your legs. You get louder as a coil begins to tighten in your gut, feeling his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it feverishly.
"You taste so fucking good baby. Mhm, love this pussy. Love you." He whispers against your folds. The vibrations send sparks flying throughout your whole body. You can feel yourself getting closer.
A white heat floods your senses as the coil snaps, reaching your toes as you spasm. Kylian drinks up every drop, getting drunk on your taste, chuckling as you push against his head to get him away.
He sits up, chin glistening with your arousal eyes locked on yours, and wipes the excess off with the back of his hand, smirking down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You’re so fucking pretty like this, mon coeur,” He leans down and kisses your neck, nibbling on your skin, making you gasp and whimper.
“Kylian,” you whimper as he presses your leg against your chest. His smile flatters once again, the indents of his nails on your skin now noticeable. He hovers over you, his body covering yours, your small frame drowning in him.
His hand trails down and your eyes follow. He wasn’t small by any means of the word, very much the opposite. Girthy, long, and beautiful. You love every inch of him.
You place your hand against his jaw, bringing his attention to your face. Flushed, teary-eyed, lips puffy and bruised. “Please, I need you,” you whisper, voice already showing signs of another orgasm. Just the thought of him inside you was enough.
He leans down and kisses your nose, pressing his forehead against yours. And with a nod, his weeping tip pushes past your folds and is embraced by soft, clingy gummy walls.
He groans at the feeling, kissing away the tears of pure pleasure that break from your lashes at the intrusion. “You're so tight. Feels so good. Putain,” he whispers into your ear, holding you close as he pushes in. His towering form shadows the lights from your eyes, the difference in size making your head dizzy.
He lets out a startled moan as his hips slam into yours, listening to your guttural moans. “Merde, breathe, breathe baby,” he coos, massaging the tensed muscles of your stomach and hips.
You’re not a virgin by any means but with him, it always feels like the first time. It could have been his size, it could have been that he was the only man to have you. Or maybe, it was because this connection meant more than sex.
You're enveloped in his love. This is otherworldly. Nothing could ever make you feel like this. Feel this good. Nothing. No one.
You giggle and that giggle turns into a laugh, Kylian staring confused, eyebrow-raising.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh but I’m just so in love with you,” You smile, rubbing his arms and pulling him closer. And you mean that with every fiber of your being. You never thought you'd be here. In the arms of the man you love. The man who loves you. It's bliss.
“I love you,” you say again to his shocked face, nothing but the truth in your eyes. You wiggle your leg out from under him and wrap them around his waist, heels tapping his toned ass. Kylian shivers before engulfing you in his embrace, tucking his face into your hair.
“Say it again,” he whispers, rocking his hips into you.
“I love you,” you groan, bliss shooting up your spine. His pace was slow, deep.
“Again,” he hisses, you said it again and again and again, with each time his thrust increases. His breathing is shallow and the wet sounds of your bodies echo through the room. Your poor neighbors. “I love you,” he chokes out through his pants and moans.
The heat of his body invades yours and you feel like you're melting into each other. Sweat from his chest drips onto your lashes and you blink it out, moans bouncing off the walls as his pace quickens, more forceful, slamming into that spot deep inside of you.
“Ohmygod,” you squeal, “Kylian–I-” he slams his lips into yours swallowing all of your sounds. His voice pitches up as his moans increase, breathing heavily onto your face.
His pretty face scrunches up as a loud grunt rips from his mouth, the warmth being dumped inside of you sending you over, clamping down on him harder, gaining a wince from him.
He places his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged as he stares into your eyes before collapsing onto you, spent and satisfied. His weight comforting, grounding.
You lay there for a while, you rubbing his back as he places kisses on your neck and whispers praises in your ear.
And to think that you would have this forever, have him forever. The thought brings a smile to your lips and you kiss his shoulder.
This man was your everything. your love, your protector, your soulmate. you were his world, his heart beating only for you. He healed you with his love.
Your Kylian.
-Bianca🌻
186 notes · View notes
onlyjaeyun · 1 year
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𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍  – 𝟒𝟖
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲
⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭
⤲ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤 (not proofread)
⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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"Lee Heeseung, your girlfriend is crying again."
With your lips pressed tightly together, furrowed brows and teary eyes you land a hard smack on the back of Jaeyun's neck, basically fed up with his constant teasing after a four hour flight and having to spend the whole morning listening to his random rambles about physics and the development of the roman empire.
Your boyfriend's ears almost instantly perk up at the mention of your tears and before the barista can even hand him his change he's already busy approaching you with concern grazing his features.
"What's wrong, Baby?" Heeseung whispers the words and leaves a good amount of physical distance between you as you both can feel your brother's gaze following your every movement, only for his girlfriend to push her finger into his strong chest and scold him for being so dramatic.
All you can do is thank her with your eyes as they join Jongseong in the very back of the coffee shop, while Jaeyun waits for your drinks and has finally decided to take a break.
"These are happy tears, my love, I promise", you quickly say and reach for his face, gently caressing his cheek and loving the way your boyfriend doesn't hesitate to move further into your touch, "I just know this is going to do wonders for Wonie's mental health, I've been so worried since our last call."
Heeseung nods in agreement, his own chest still feeling heavy as he remembers the sadness in his cousin's voice throughout the entirety of your phone conversation a few days ago.
Little did either one of you know that your boyfriend and brother had been trying their best to organise a paid internship for you in one of their companies, knowing you had sent in your applications yet again after your first ones had gotten rejected. Once Heeseung got the approval from his boss, him and Hoon had decided to book the tickets for your best friend's birthday weekend because they knew you wouldn't hesitate to quit your job at the coffee shop, therefore clearing your schedule.
Everything happened way too quickly and if it wasn't for the fact you're currently looking at the huge "Welcome to Daegu" banner in the middle of the city's biggest airport, processing it all would have been a lot more difficult.
The thought of working at the same company as your brother, his girlfriend as well as your own boyfriend seemed scary but after talking to each one of them, those worries quickly vanished and were replaced by excitement instead.
And the fact a great opportunity such as this one came with the amazing clearance of your schedule and actually allowed you to be with your best friend for his birthday has been the reason for your overly emotional state these past four days.
Life finally feels good and for the first time in your life you don't have to constantly fight to survive but actually feel yourself living in the moment, mostly thanks to your loved ones.
With pouted lips and tired eyes you look up at your boyfriend and quickly bury your face in his strong, warm chest, the exhaustion from your travel journey finally catching up on you.
"I'm gonna make sure you two will have the best time ever", Heeseung sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders, "these past few weeks have been exhausting for all of us, this is just a way for everyone to live and breathe a little."
You nod softly and kiss your way from his warm neck up to his chin before pressing your lips against his and the way your boyfriend barely hesitates to push his tongue into your mouth makes you chuckle intot he kiss.
"Calm down, big guy", you sigh and pull away once Jaeyun calls for the two of you, "Ning can only hold back my brother so much, we shouldn't test his patience."
"Yeah, you're right. I'm just glad we're not on the same floor in the hotel because I'd rather punch myself in the face for hours before I go five whole days without fucking the sweetest pussy on earth."
Seung's voice is a mere whisper, yet his unhinged words leave you completely flustered and with a roll of your eyes you bury your face in his neck again and pinch his arm to let him know how little you appreciate his teasing in public. Especially with your brother and their best friends so close to you.
Once the six of you make it to your hotel rooms, the boys decide to take a walk around the city, grab some late lunch and play some basketball in the little court in the kids area of your accommodations to pass some time but also get rid of their exhaustion. You and Ning on the other hand have decided to actually take a nap after a flight this tiring, as you wait for Sunoo, Jungwon's roommate, to finally call and let you know where the three of them had decided to spend the evening.
You didn't want to just show up at his door but rather join in on his plans and once his friend had told you about your best friend's wish to go to a night club, you got even more excited. It's been way too long since the two of you had partied together, however you'd lie if you said you actually went out to a club since moving to seoul exactly six months ago.
Too much had constantly happened, adjusting to work and university, living by yourself and of course the whole situation with your now boyfriend had basically not left any room to party.
You and the girls still occasionally went to bars yet these past few weeks life just felt too exhausting, so you usually stayed at home and kept things easy and calm.
However, now the thought of going to a club with your boyfriend and best friend excites you in the best way possible and you actually can't wait to join the boys.
By the time Heeseung comes out of the shower you've already gotten dressed, and are currently doing your best for the make uo look in your head to become reality, yet as soon as you catch a glimpse of Lee Heeseung wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, you physically can't stop yourself from eyeing him up and down.
"Don't you dare look at me like that right now, princess", he suddenly chuckles and comes to stand right behind you, his body too tall to fit into the frame of the mirror in front of you and at the sight of his pierced nipples you nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip.
"Can't help it", you sigh and take a deep breath as soon as his big hand gently wraps around your throat, his eyes fixated on your face as he remains composed, "you just look so good like this."
Unfortunately, neither one of you gets the opportunity to indulge in a short moment of intimacy, as the vibration of your boyfriend's phone right next to you pulls you both back into the reality and with a soft sigh of annoyance.
"It's Jaeyun, isn't it?"
Heeseung just nods and picks up the call with another sigh before he gives you a quick kiss and goes to get himself dressed.
Once the two of you are ready, it's taking you a lot of patience and self control not to rip your boyfriend's clothes off of him right away, the sight too tempting for your weak self.
But who in their right mind could blame you when it's Lee Heeseung in a black dress shirt, which he hasn't even bothered to button up completely, showing just the right amount of chest, combined with his casual slacks and a leather jacket.
You can't help but stare at him with big, hungry eyes, enjoying the way he seems confident and comfortable in his skin to the point where he shoots you one of his charming smirks and winks every time your gaze meets his.
However, you're pretty sure you've managed to cause the same reaction from your boyfriend, as he seems to struggle keeping his hands off of you.
Your little black dress fits your body like a glove, tight and charming in all the right places and in combination with your little jacket and your knee high boots you know you've got people's heads turning, yet all you care about is the way your boyfriend looks at you.
After about fifteen minutes of arguing how many ubers to order, you find yourself in a car with your boyfriend and his two best friend's, both of them slightly tipsy as they had decided to drink a little before leaving to avoid spending too much money on overpriced drinks and the closer you get to the club, the faster your heart starts beating.
Heeseung's hand remains on your thigh throughout the whole drive and you hate just how a touch as simple as that has already pushed you to the edge of your arousal to the point where you genuinely consider pulling him into the next alley just to get some relief.
But as soon as your phone starts vibrating in your hand and Kim Sunoo's contact name appears on your screen, you feel excitement and anticipation take over.
The second you guys arrive in front of the club, Heeseung's instinct kicks in and despite his best friend's expression of distaste, he doesn't let go of your hand and keeps you as close to himself as possible. He can't risk getting into a fight when his best friends are already as tipsy as they currently are because even if his skills are good, there's no way he stands a chance against a group without his boys having his back.
You calmly lean against the chest of your boyfriend as you wait for your best friend to finally arrive as well and as soon as you spot Nishimura Riki's tall frame get out of the nth uber passing by, a wave of relief washes over you.
Tonight is going to be a good night.
"No. Fucking. Way."
The sound of your best friend's voice sends chills over your body and with a loud squeak you pull away from Heeseung to run into Jungwon's arms, wishing him a happy birthday and taking in the warmth of his body and the comfort his hug comes with.
"You guys are fucking with me right now", he says and looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly glossier than usual, his lips stretched into a big smile until his dimples make an appearance and with a loud chuckle you just shake your head.
"This is literally the best birthday present ever." Jungwon chuckles and you love the way you can actually watch some of the heaviness on his shoulder slowly vanish as he pulls you into another tight hug.
"Then wait until Seungie tells you he's gonna pay for all the drinks tonight", you say and turn around to face said boyfriend with a big smile, not aware just how much he loves the sight of your happiness.
He casually approaches the four of you, dabbing up the two boys really quick before he pulls his cousin into a tight hug.
For some reason you can't help but let your eyes roam his tall figure for the nth time tonight, yet quickly getting it together when Sunoo elbows you in the ribs and starts giggling.
Once everyone hugged each other and Sunghoon proudly introduced the boys to Ning, you finally make your way into the club, your boyfriend's arm firmly wrapped around your waist and you can barely stop yourself from jumping his bones right then and there.
Especially once you guys find a little table to take over in the very back of the club, yet only half of you having space to sit doen and you notice all the girls shamelessly eyeing your boyfriend up and down. You know he's not paying attention to them, yet sudden waves of jealousy and possessivness overwhelm you and as soon as your brother and Jaeyun leave to get everyone the first round of drinks, you jump up from your seat and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck.
"They're staring at you", you whisper into his ear and place a soft kiss on his exposed neck, loving the way Heeseung seems to struggle holding himself back as you push your body against his. His grip on your hips tightens and you love how your usually so composed lover turns into absolute putty in your hands within just a few seconds.
"So what? It's you I'm staring at", Heeseung grunts and buries his face in your neck, suppressing the urge to kiss his way down to your exposed cleavage and actually litter your pretty chest in his kisses.
The loud music as well as the lack of oxygen in the club sends you into the sweetest haze of adrenaline and in combination with your boyfriend's addictive touches, you feel yourself letting go of all your worries and doubts that have been keeping you up at night these last few weeks.
"And it's me you're going to fuck tonight, right?" You tease and push your hands into his dark hair, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes, yet having to bite back a whimper at the darkness of his gaze.
"Tonight, tomorrow and for the rest of my life, princess."
His words send your brain into overdrive and with a soft whimper you hide your face in his chest and actually feel relieved when your friend starts cheering in response to their drinks' arrival and with a soft sigh you give your boyfriend one last kiss and pull away, knowing Jungwon's going to pull you to the dance floor as soon as he downs his shot.
You quickly lose track of time as soon as you find yourself dancing to the music alongside your brother's girlfriend and the boys, all of them cheering you on as you give it your all and for some reason you're not as shy as you usually are and you're quite convinced Lee Heeseung's strong gaze lingering on the whole time is the reason behind your confidence.
But it's also seeing just how happy Jungwon is, your worries and thoughts about him finally vanishing from your brain as you wrap as you watch his dance battle with the youngest of the group.
It doesn't take much more for your boyfriend to finally having had enough as he pushes his way through the crowd, completely ignoring all the girls trying their best to catch his attention, only to fail miserably. You welcome the warmth of his strong body in your back with a soft smile, pushing yourself even harder against him, knowing exactly what you're doing to him with every sway of your hips against his crotch, the bulge in his pants essily giving away your effect on him.
Heeseung's hands find home on your waist, his grip as tight as ever as he moves his body along to yours and you can't help but throw your head back against his shoulder when he suddenly starts singing the lyrics of the song into your ear, the experience feeling absolutely surreal and just when you thought he couldn't get any more perfect, you find yourself living yet another one of your daydreams.
The rest of the night is filled with belly hurting laughter, way too much screaming of wrong lyrics to the songs blasting in the club, quite a bit of bickering and stolen touches from your boyfriend. You have absolutely no idea how three whole hours pass by so quickly, only realising how much you've been dancing when Ning finally pulls you to the women's room, her drunk giggles and her attemots of a conversation all while being barely coherent pushing you into another fit of laughter and after about ten minutes of you trying to gatch your breath in front of the mirror, you hear the deep voice of your brother making its way through the door.
"We're heading out, the guys wanna eat some beef and play basketball", Sunghoon screams and can't help but smile when all he gets in response is the sound of your combined giggles, "hurry the fuck up. Seung's about to shut down the club if you two take any longer."
At the mention of your boyfriend, you feel your whole body heating up and with a soft sigh and a nibble on your freshly glossed up lips, you take one last picture with your sister in law and finally swing the door open.
This time it's Jungwon who seems to be a lot more protective over you as he takes your hand in his and guides you through the crowd to the exit of the club, feeling responsible of you while your boyfriend is busy paying for everyone's drinks.
And just as your brother had announced to you, the group makes its way to a barbecue place nearby, hungry and excited after all the dancing, only for your night to end at the basketball court you and Heeseung had found during your last stay in Daegu.
You don't even question where the hell the baskteball suddenly gomes from as you watch your boyfriend and his friends play a few food rounds, the cold february air feeling like an actual breath of fresh air after the lack of oxygen in the crowded nightclub.
By the time your body has finally calmed down from the high of adrenaline, you start processing just how cold it actually is and kind of regret not leaving with your brother and his girlfriend about half an hour prior.
To your luck, Heeseung quickly notices the way your legs seem a little shakirr than just a few minutes ago and with one last pass to the youngest of the group, you finally call it a night.
Different than you expected, neither your or his own best friends insist on leaving with the two of you and as soon as Jungwoon wraps his arms around your shoulders, you know exactly why your usually so persistent, self proclaimed favorite boy has decided to stay behind.
"Don't fuck too much, we've got an early morning tomorrow", he says and starts laughing as soon as your face changes into an expression of horror and without giving him a verbal response you opt for a slap against his chest.
Heeseung pulls you as close to his body as possible as soon as the two of you get comfortable in the back of your uber, his body still slightly cold and for a moment you're worried about his health and feel bad for taking his jacket.
"Are you co-", "I can't wait to fuck you", he suddenly whispers into your ear, casually making you choke on your words.
You instinctively press your thighs together and curse him as well ss yourself for the reactions of your body, yet genuinely enjoying the warmth his words spreads through your veins at the same time.
"Good girl", he whispers and finally starts littering your negk in open mouthed kisses the way he's wanted to do all night.
Watching you enjoy yourself and noticing all the guys devouring you with their eyes has been one of the biggest challenges Heessung has ever had to endure. Every time you denied one of those fuckers the privilege of dancing with you, he felt proud and possessive, the urge to claim you in front of them all taking over every fiber of his being within seconds.
At first he definitely felt a little worried because he's never felt as jealous and possessive over someone the way he does with you, the lack of knowledge regarding his possible reactions worrying him to the point where all he could focus on was to stay as calm as possible. Yet as soon as he saw the way you never once looked at anyone but him, Heeseung knew there's absolutely no need for him to worry. You want him and him only, and you're not shy about showing him off because you're his girl.
Only his.
"Isn't it funny that all of these people think you're this sweet, polite girl who's here to have a good time with her friends when you've been ruining your pretty panties all night thinking about my cock."
His words and their timing are well chosen, leaving you gompletely speechless and overwhelming you to the point where your ploute smile suddenly drops and you shamefully lower your head to hide yourself from the people around you.
Only when the doors of the elevator finally close and leave the two of you to yourselves do you look up at him with big, glossy eyes. A sight Heeseung would sell his soul for.
"What's wrong, princess? Use those big girl words for me, hm? I know you want to", Heeseung's lips graze yours with every single one of his words, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin and sending shivers down your spine.
A jolt of hot arousal shoots right in between your legs and with a soft whimper you grab a fistful of his hair to stop yourself from actually falling to your knees.
"I really, really want to suck your cock", you whisper against his lips and press your body further into his, "please, Heeseung. It's all I've been thinking about."
"You're so fucking cruel", he suddenly grunts and throws his head back in defeat, one of his hands finding home around your throat as he gently pushes you against rhe wall of the elevator, "stop playing with me, pretty girl. You know which one of us wins these games."
All you can do is chuckle because you both know it's not actually him, because as soon as your boyfriend gets a single taste of you, he's a complete goner and at your absolute mercy.
You can't explain what your effect on him does to your ego. You've never felt as loved, wanted and desired as Heeseung's been making you feel and despite being overwhelmed at times you've become absolutely addicted to it.
"I'll remind you of these words when I make you cum down my throat", you giggle against his lips, quickly pull away and decide to run away when the elevator doors open.
It takes Heeseung a whole moment to follow you, your words constantly repeating in his head and sending him into the depths of his arousal, something he's got yet to get used to when it comes to you. Every time you say or do something such as actually using your pretty girl words for him, teasing and playing with him, he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Nobody in his life has ever put him in this particular state of arousal; with you every single time feels like a whole new experience and usually ends with the urge to lay the world to your feet.
By the time he actually catches up to you, you've already pulled out your hotel room card, quickly slipping inside the comfort of your privacy and just when he thought you couldn't surprise him any further, Heeseung actually finds himself watching the way you're casually pulling your little black dress over your headc exposing your perfect body to his hungry eyes.
"F-Fuck", this time there's absolutely no way he can hide the intense reaction of his own body to your teasing and you feel your sensitive cunt clench in response to his deep grunt.
"Come here", you try your best to stay calm and composed as you wait for your boyfriend to finally approach you.
Mental images of his pretty cock in your mouth, the angry tip grazing your tits, his cum coating the muscle of your tongue and finally allowing you to indulge in one of your biggest fantasies overwhelm you, yet to your surprise, Heeseung seems to have slightly different plans.
You carefully watch the way your boyfriend basically rips open his dress shirt, exposing his tattooed chest to your greedy eyes, right before he comes to stand in front of you and actually drops to his knees without hesitation.
His big hands find home on your thighs, harshly kneading and groping the soft flesh all the way up to your ass and one of them casually reaching for one of your tits, his touch sending hot jolts of pleasure through your body.
"My face", Heeseung suddenly grunts and pushes your legs slightly apart, his nose deeply buried in your sensitive cunt and if it wasn't for his tight grip you would have lost every bit of balance you've had left, "please, Baby. I need you to sit on my face and cum all ove my tongue. I need it so bad."
Seung's gentle pleading sends shivers down your spine and for a short moment, mostly because of the way his pretty lips had found their way to your needy clit, you actually consider giving in to his request. But after weeks of begging your boyfriend for one thing and that thing only, you're determined to finally make that fantasy come true.
"No", you say and reach for his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling his head away from your body with every bit of self control you've got left and as soon as your gaze drops to his flushed face, you let out a soft whimper.
There's absolutely no reason for Heeseung to look drunk every time he gets the tiniest taste of your pussy. You can't help but admire the sighg of his hooded eyes and parted lips, his whole face tainted in the sweetests hades of pink.
"But–", "I promise I'm gonna let you tongue fuck me to sleep later but I really, really want to suck you off now, Seungie."
Your tone doesn't give it away, yet Heeseung knows it's not really a request but actually a demand; your eyes widened and your hrip in his tight to the point it actually hurts his scalp, so without missing another beat, he kisses his way back up to your neck and turns you both to move himself closer to the bed until the back of his thighs hit the mattress and he has no choice but to sit down.
"Get to it then, princess", Heeseung grunts against your neck and his voice fades into a whimper once your knee gently nudges against the bulge in his pants.
After waiting for so long, you definitely don't need to be told twice and without hesitation you pull the fabric of his slavks down his thick thighs, your hand instantly finding uts way to his rock hard cock and calmly massaging him through his boxer briefs.
"Fuck, Baby", he suddenly whispers and reaches for your wrist to stop the movements of your hand, "I've been dying to fuck you all day, I don't have the patience and stamina for so much teasing."
His confession fuels the fire in your lower tummy, your heartbeat hammering in between your legs and once you meet his heavy gaze, you feel an actual urge to take him into your mouth overwhelm you.
"Is it because of me or because you didn't let any of your pretty little flings suck you off, hm?" Your question surprises him, yet you don't give him enough time to actually reflect on what you just threw in his direction as the sudden feeling of your hand reaching into the slit of his boxers to pull his rock hard cock free from its coffins and with a loud whimper of your name he can't do anything but throw his head back and buck his hips up.
"You're so hard", you sigh and feel your mouth watering at the heaviness of his length in your grip, "that's all for me, right, Seungie? Come on, how about you use your words for me now?"
"You're fucking evil", Heeseung presses through gritted teeth, his eyes rolling intot he back of his head as soon ss the sensation of your pretty lips grazing the wet tip of his cock overwhelms every single one of his senses, "only for and because of y-you, princess. Always and forever."
"Take your phone and call Sumin."
In absolutely no life time would Heeseung have expected you to ask something like that from him, especially not with your lips coated in his precum as you look up at him with those big, hungry eyes he's grown addicted to.
For a moment your boyfriend seems absolutely overwhelmed. Your request, your actual intention behind it, the feeling of your mouth on his cock, the way you're looking up at him and the fact he hasn't had anyone suck him off in actual years too much for his brain to process, whereas his body seems to have a mind of its own as he does as he's been told.
"That's my boy", you chuckle and pull his boxer brief down his thick thighs, littering the soft skin in open mouthed kisses as you use both of your hands to stroke the impressive length of his cock.
"Remember how I asked to never say my name?"
Your hot breath fans against the sensitive tip of his cock and just when you're about to pull away, Heeseung starts nodding frantically, despair and need bubbling up his throat in the form of high pitched whimpers and moans.
"Once she picks up I want you to moan nothibg but my name, okay?"
"F-Fuck", at this point Heeseung's convinced he's going to pass out from hos good you're already making him feel, despite not even getting to the actual event yet, "yes, Baby. Want you to claim me. Show her who owns me, make me proud."
Just as usual his words don't fail to send jolts of hot arousal straight into your cunt and with a soft whine you curse at him for being so casual about things like this when you've been trying so hard to stay composed.
You carefully watch the way your boyfriend dial her number, putting her on speaker and casually throwing his head back with a loud moan of your name as soon as her voice makes its way through the speaker.
With a big smile you finally wrap your lips around his cock and don't even waste too much time, taking as much of his length down your throat as possible.
"Fuck, that's my girl", Heeseung grunts and pushes his hand into your hair, his hips bucking up and theusting his cock a little further into your mouth and the lore his precum coats the muscle of your tongue, the harder your eyes roll intot he back of your head, "there you go, that's it, Y/N."
For some reason it sounds weird to hear your boyfriend use your name but you canmt help but press your thighs together at the raspiness in his voice and with each movement of your head, you can feel the way Heeseung's whole body tenses up just a little bit more.
"What the fuck?"
You don't know if that Sumin's first verbal reaction since your whole focus remains on your task at hand, the feeling of Seung's cock laying so perfectly on your tongue and the tip hitting the back of your throat with each of his thrusts taking over your senses but you donmt even try to hide just how much you love it.
After having to deal with her stupid messages and random calls you've finally had enough. You didn't want to give her the memory of a voicemail, a video or a picture and as you imagine her face of shock and envy, you can help but let out a soft hum with your lips still firmly wrapped around your boyfriend's cock.
"I love you so much", Heeseung suddenly grunts, his lids pressed shut, neck and face completely flushed and from the way his knuckles have started turning white you can tell just how much he's trying to hold himself back.
"My pretty little princess, my everything."
Maybe it's the thought of him being just as into your attempt of claiming him or maybe it's just how honest and genuine his words sound despite his current state of pleasure, yet either way you can't help but pull away with a loud gasp to look up at him.
You never once stop stroking him, the mixture of your spit and his precum enough to make you feel sloppy and as if he could feel your eyes on him, Heeseung slowly opens his own to meet your gaze with a lazy smile.
"Did you hear that?"
Thise words aren't directed at you, but Heeseung confidently refuses to shift his gaze away from your face, gently caressing your heated cheek with his hand before he wipes away your saliva from your chin.
"You're fucking disgusting."
It'd be a lie if you said her response didn't surprise you a little. You kind of expected her to either cry or having hung up by now, knowing she's still listening just boosts your ego even further.
"Thanks", Heeseung grunts and takes your face into his big hands, wordlessly telling you to take a deep breath right before he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth and all the way down your throat.
"F-Fuck, that's my perfect girl. Nobody does it like you, Y/N. You're so fucking good."
You can tell just how much your boyfriend enjoys claiming you in such a lewd and intimate manner, the thought of him being into your possessiveness like this making the whole process of deepthroating him even easier for you and with tears streaming down your cheeks you casually start swallowing around him.
"Oh, sh-shit", his voice is hoarse and raspy from his constant whimpers and moans, a sound so beautiful you never want to hear anything else in your life, "you're all I ever wanted, angel girl. My biggest dream come true, fuck."
As your head slowly starts spinning from the lack of oxygen, your can't help but whimper in response to his sweet confession and just as you pull away to gasp for air, Heeseung's whole body tenses up in a way too familiar manner.
"Look at me, princess. Wanna cum all over that pretty face and then do the same in that perfect little cunt."
Heeseung's words are lewd and unhinged, slmething you've grown way too used to in these past few weeks but for some reason yiu seem to find comfort and confidence in them.
With a soft smile you pull away just enough to look up at him, your lips parted, tongue sticking out and your eyes never once shifting away from his face to make sure you get the best view of his perfect features contorting in pleasure when he finally reaches his much needed relief.
"Fuck you both."
That's the last thing Sumin basically screams into the phone and as if he had waited for her to end the call, Heeseung stumbles head first into the waves of his climax and finishes all over your face without a single touch and your name the only thing to fall past his swollen lips; three thick spurts of his creamy cum covering most of your cheeks as well as your top lip.
"You're fucking perfect", Heeseung sighs once he manages to catch his breath, instinctively collecting his cum from your face and casually pushing it into your mouth, just to lose his mind at the way you seem to genuinely enjoy the taste of his relief.
"But now it's my turn, right, princess?"
You don't know what exactly you've expected when hearing those words, yet your boyfriend pushing your face intk the mattress and eating you out for exactly an hour definitely wasn't it. After your fourth orgasm you genuinely can't hold back the tears any longer; the overstimulation leaving your whole body in a constant state of high pressure and with soft sobs you basically beg Heeseung to finally fuck you.
But he wouldn't be true to himself if he didn't get back at you for your little remarks and comments, which is why your boyfriend is more than just determined to push you into the absolute depth of your pleasure with every single one of his thrusts. By the time you feel like you're actually about to pass out, you've long lost count on your orgasms, whereas Heeseung just gives you enough time to breathe so he can make sure you reach your seventh high of the night together.
And as he realises that you've actually blacked out from the overstimulation, Seungie can't help but smile cheekily, no matter how worried he is. And just as expected it doesn't take you longer than a minute to wake up, drool running down your chin, tears finding their way down your cheeks as you physically struggle to keep your eyes open.
"Petty bitch", you hiss and try your best not to move, yet your whole body cringing at the feeling of his thick cum soilling out if your overly sensitive cunt, "all I did was tease you a little. You did not have to do all of this."
Heeseung throws his head back and lets out a row of chuckles, his whole body flushed and coated in the thinnest layer of sweat, a sight so perfect you actually feel like you're dreaming.
"I love you so fucking much", you whisper against his lips and pull him closer to your body, actually craving the feeling of his skin against yours despite the oast three hours of physical intimacy.
And as Heeseung allows himself to take in the way you're looking at him, he actually feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes; gratitude and disbelief meeting in the midst of his chest when he realises that his dreams have actually become reality.
"I'm so in love with you", he whispers and casually ignores how his voice breaks at the end of his sentence, "my first and only love."
After almost a decade of denying, suppressing and ignoring his feelings, Heeseung has finally found his way home and life has never, ever felt as good as this.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: and this marks the last written chapter for poison, i'm absolutely NOT crying (been tearing up throughout the whole writing process) and i honestly dont even know what to say except i hope you guys liked it and know how much i love and appreciate you all. aending everyone the fattest kiss. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🥺🩷🧸)
TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu
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pairing: exhusband!Captain John Price x fem!Reader
summary: You visit your ex-husband, in your once shared home. The memories are painful. But only for you. Unfortunately, after that one bloody mission, John doesn't remember you. The memory of your life together, blurred in his mind.
tags: afab reader, hurt, ex lovers, ex-husband, recollection of death, loss of memory , ambiguous/open ending
1.6 k words
author's note: Once I wrote some random thoughts about our gorgeous captain. Today I've put it all together. Comments welcome, let me know if it's worth writing another part, because I don't know what to think. I guess I like sad stories…. and can't get the ex-husband plot out of my mind. Sorry not sorry <3
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The clock ticked quietly somewhere in the distance, deep in the corridor, steadily, rhythmically. The water in the kitchen tap dripped, quietly reminding you that you need to change the gasket but also to fix some other things in the flat. Even though you moved here a few months ago, you still don't feel at home. You feel uncomfortable. Like a guest in a hotel. All the objects seemed foreign, belonging to someone else. Or maybe nobody's. Everything has been renovated, painted, bought and new. Just for you.
Cat curled up in a ball, lies next to you on a small red sofa. And in front of you on a small, vintage coffee table steams warm coffee. Another one that day. The only meal for many weeks. You rub your eyes, even though no more tears have appeared in them for days. It still burns you and you feel this tingling under your eyelids. Something like fine sand, irritating your eyeballs and hurting the soft delicate flesh of your eyelids. You try to take it in stride. On days like these, weekends, holidays, when you are left alone in a small flat. You fall apart into millions of pieces. Alone. The pain under your ribs, the pressure in your sternum, your throat squeezed like in a vice. Memories haunt you at every step. A constant battle with the past, something you beg for every sleepless night to finally go away. To be finally erased. You should burn the photos, throw away the gifts. Bury the past at last. To move on. After all, this is what you wanted. A lot of time fighting, trying. Days of sweat shed, of anger, of trying again and again. And in the end, powerlessness.
Sunk in your thoughts, you stare, with heavy eyelids, at the empty space under the TV. Once, in another warm home, the shelf was filled with DVDs of one's favourite films. Classic.
A familiar sound interrupts your gloomy rush of thoughts. Looking at the phone screen, you smile slightly. Your boys have been calling every day. ‘Hi Johnny’ You say with a grunt, trying to chase away the sad thoughts, not letting him know that you are tormenting yourself with the past again.
You should not agree. The paperwork you signed, and the arrangements in the documents, were approved, many months ago. That was not the deal. This is not how you discussed the contract. This is not why you are sitting here now. Yet, you can't say no to them. Not after all they've given up their lives, made sacrifices and…
Sitting in an old rusty cheap car. In your familiar driveway, in this new, friendly neighbourhood. You hesitate to get out. Your hands are sweaty, in a firm grip on the worn-out steering wheel. So you give yourself a few minutes to calm down. You never wanted to show them, him, that you were continuing to suffer badly. That you haven't really moved on.
You have to be tough.
As the door finally slams shut behind you with a quiet click, the same scent reaches your nostrils once again. Earthy and heavy from the cigars and the cherry wood burning in the fireplace, a slightly sweet smoke with a subtle fruity aftertaste, with a slight bitter note. A scent so familiar, so close. But it's not your scent. The resignation has been signed. The decision had been made. There was no going back. Johnny stands in front of you looking at you apologetically. ‘Sure I understand. Duty calls.’ You say gently squeezing his shoulder in a gesture of understanding. Or maybe you want to convince yourself that you're not angry. There's no problem. Some kind of confirmation that it's not their fault you have to be here again. That you are standing in this big modern house, from a dream project . In the place that was supposed to be your home.
Of course boys hired 24/7 nursing. But also they themselves, his squad soldiers, alternated days and nights here. They practically lived here. So if the medical caretaker went for a few days' holiday and the three men had to go on a sudden urgent mission for a few days. It was your job to be here and help. You couldn't let them down. You could not say no. You could not answer the phone. Pretend it doesn't concern you. You had to be here. You had to be strong. For him.
When you are finally left alone in the hallway and the big car disappears around the corner. You feel that hole in your heart, opening up again. Those missing pieces to fill it. They are just behind a thin, wall. A couple of steps. A few seconds.
When you finally stand in the large room, as usual, dark curtains hang from the ceiling to the floor, covering the terraced windows. The semi-darkness of the room has always accompanied him when he watches movies. You stare at his profile illuminated by artificial television light. Despite the years spent in the army, the many litres of blood shed, the many scars on his body. He continued to watch the same films. War movies, classics. The screams and gunshots accompanied him since he opened his eyes and when he closed them. It was already burned into his mind. Written into his gut. It's just a shame that this one fucking wound, made him forget. He forgot about you. ‘Hi.’ You say uncertainly standing in the corner of the couch. You can't look at him.
You don't want to see the ocean blue of his irises, the wrinkles around his eyes. The slightly grey hair. The little freckle on his nose. The fidgety trimmed beard - which his boys were now taking care of. ‘Oh, mornin’ ‘ His voice seems even deeper to you, slightly hoarse. Perhaps already stranger. ‘How are you feeling today. Captain?’ You spit out the last word like a poisonous snake. You want to say something completely different. To shout what you said to him every night. Every morning intertwined when you were here, together. Alone. ‘You don't have to be so official, ma'am. I'm out of the army.’ John is gallant as ever. It's the same every damn time. Ma'am, lady. Miss. He's never said your name since that day. Forgotten. That hole in your heart, never to be filled by his pieces again.
The conversation goes on as usual, John again thinking you are just another medical assistant employed by his former teammates. Brothers in arms. Brothers in war. Brothers in the last of the battles. You want to shout to him how much you hate him, how much you despise him. How much it aches you. How much it hurts you that he doesn't remember anything. A bloody mission. Yet, as usual, you sit and listen once again to the same questions, the stories. As if you've turned on that worst episode of your favourite show again. The last one.
Every time he leaves. During every time he was away. On every such occasion. You were ready for the funeral. The black dress continued to hang in that wardrobe, a few rooms away.
Perhaps it would have been better if it had simply been buried six feet underground. In an oak dark box. Cold and with an equally empty head about you. Maybe it would be easier for you that way. You've already said goodbye to one light casket with his last name on it. Because that hole in your heart was much bigger than the missing fragments of your husband, ex-husband.
For a longer monologue, more memories, of his past work. Of his previous life. What you counted as ‘before’. Because what was ‘after’ was a blur. No matter. John stares at you, finally taking his eyes off the TV. The end credits move lazily across the large TV screen. You smile slightly when your gazes finally meet. He is handsome still. Maybe even more beautiful than you remembered him. It would seem that the man's calm face does not hide his wounded, hollow mind.
Physically he looks maybe even better than during his time in the army. In fact, better than at the time of your marriage. Unwittingly the corners of your mouth gently lift up. Doubtless Simon has been training with him, the hard workouts and the proper diet prepared by the new Captain are yielding great results. A well-deserved successor. A plain red t-shirt lightly framed John's broad, muscular shoulders. Grey casual sweatpants once too loose were now gently stretched around his massive thighs.
You don't have the strength to explain to him once again who you are. So when he once again addresses you as a total stranger you don't react. You wanted so badly to climb on his thighs, to punch him in the chest, maybe even scratch him. To make him feel some kind of pain at least for a moment, that thing you feel non-stop, something to bring you two together again. Feel his heart beat faster, and enter his mind, scratch out every shadowy particle. To brighten and put your memories there. Ours.
Nothing in this house resembles that life anymore. There are no pictures here. There are no flowers. There is no more laughter and joyful banter. No more singing and quiet murmurs of delight. The three of you are gone.
Finally, as you lower your gaze to his hands, which hesitantly stroke the fabric of the armchair. The image is blurred. Finally, tears well up in your eyes. You can no longer see a trace of the ring. No lighter stripe stands out on the slightly tanned skin. There is no faint hollow in the fleshy part of his worked-up ring finger. Although everything is a blur. The gold glistens gently reflecting the soft light of the television. The object that was such an important symbol. A vow. A promise. As if playfully winking at you.
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