#first of all why has he taken almost all of his clothes off in front of carlos hm 🤔 i’ll tell you why

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it. 

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly. 

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.” 

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.” 

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry. 

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up. 

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair. 

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking. 

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son. 

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.” 

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[dcxdpdabbles]

This is an anonymous answer, but I accidentally deleted it when I clicked out. It was asking for more Misplaced Baby. Hope you enjoy it!

Danny wabbled around the yard, stopping occasionally to pick up a rock among the gravel. He turns the smooth rock this way and that with a critical eye before dubbing it suitable. He turns to wabble back to the man that was watching him from under the shate of a near by tree.

"For you,Tati" Danny says, holding it out his Father. Dick's smile stretches clear across his face, carefully taking the gift as if it was made of valuable glass.

"Wow, this is perfect. Thank you, Danny." Dick brings the child in for a warm hug, grinning as the little one giggles. He places his rock in a near by pile made of more stones and a few sticks, that his son had gifted him over the last hour.

They were out in front of the Wayne Manor, enjoying the surprisingly lovely weather during its twilight hours. Danny has been with him for about three months now, and the child is slowly adjusting to his new family.

Dick could admit a part of his was worried he wasn't ready for his son. He hadn't known he was a father, and feels horrid he missed out on Danny's birth, first smile, first laugh, first word, first step, and who knows what else.

He is trying to make up for lost time. That's why he has called off a few days from work, using every last hour of PTO citing a family emergancy. He had to disclose the news of Danny with his boss, but thankfully, his Captain isn't the type to gossip.

Dick knew that at one point, he would have to introduce Danny to the world, but he hoped it would be later than sooner. Mostly, he knows the media will attempt to tear his sweet boy apart to get a good story.

Thankfully, Tim and Lucius claimed they had created a community among Wayen Enterprises PR department, who all signed NDAs on what they were preparing for. The legal and media storm that was brewing would take the best among them.

Dick was not looking forward to it.

A loud bark cut through the later afternoon air, and both Graysons swung their heads towards the front door. The barking wasn't agreesive so Dick knew that it was likely Damian taking his dog out for a walk.

As expected, Titus happily raced towards the child, who raised his arms and yelled the dog's name happily. Damian was not far behind, walking with his hands in his pocket at a slow and relaxed pace.

The great dane, ran into Danny's waiting arms slobbering all over the child's face as the toddler giggled. His large form nearly topppled the young one over, but Danny didn't seem to mind, reaching up to embrace the dog with gusto.

Dick's heart melted.

"Richard." Damian greets, standing at his side with a perfect poster. Despite his insistence that he is not soft on Danny, Dick can't help but notice the warmth taken in his younger brother's eye when he gazes at his pet and nephew.

Case in point: in the crook of Damian's arm is a child's jacket.

Dick grins. "Hey, Dami, what brings you out here?"

"It is time for Titus' walk," Damian says smoothly, then as if just now noticing the cloth he was carrying, he humps " I can not enjoy this outing, however, with all this cargo. Surely Daniel can assist me with that."

"Danny help!" His son yells, finally getting the animal to stop licking him. Almost as if though he flew, Danny appears in front of Damian while making grasping motions up towards the pre-teen. "Danny, help!"

"Excellent; I appreciate the assistance." Damian nods, crouching down to quickly wrangle the child into his coat. Danny does his best to help by thrusting his arms through the sleeves as aggressively as he can in his haste, and if Dick could just take a picture of this moment, he would.

If he wasn't ninety-five percent sure, Damian would later fine it, delete it, and attack him in retaliation. It was a nice thoguht.

Eventually, Damian can zip up Danny's jacket—a bear-themed one that looks like Damian has skinned a teddy bear—and even flip up his hood, which has little bear ears. It is fluffy, as his son seems to have an adoration for anything soft, and Danny does not disappoint.

He instantly started rubbing his face against the sleeve of his jacket, laughing silly at the fur texture. Damian soaks in his reaction with a smile on his face, and Dick can't help himself.

"Danny, want to go with Uncle Dami on his walk?"

"Yeah!" Danny cheers, grabbing onto Damian's leg. "Up!"

Damian wrinkles his nose but still carefully lifts the child into his arms. He tucks Danny closely to his chest, ensuring the child is face him as he says "You are a warrior. Never become too soft."

Danny responds by reaching up and tugging hard on Damian's hair. The pre-teen nods, approving. "Good, always search for openings even in the arms of a ally."

Dick wonders if he should step in there- would that be something a normal father would disapprove of?- but Damain turns and starts walking, Titus loyalty at his side keeping pace.

Danny slumps against his uncle, leaning his tiny head on Damian's shoulder, and Dick has no choice but to follow. He can't help but huff a laugh as Damian starts receding proper etiquette to the child in his arms. The pre-teen seems convinced he can make Danny into a proper gentleman.

Surprisingly, despite the advanced vocabulary that Damian uses, Danny is easily able to follow the conversation, making appropriate short answers when prompted.

"There is no elegance in making a racket when dining. Slurping is for fools raised in barns. How do we avoid this?"

"Soup spoon"

"Correct." Damian beams as Dick studies them. He's wondered about that for a while. It's not about etiquette- heavens knows he's spent too many years under Alfred's watchful eye learning it- but Danny seems highly intelligent in some moments and in others seems to have the regular mind of a toddler in others.

Bruce had already tested Danny for a meta gene, having also noticed, but the results returned negative. In the same swoop, they ruled out Danny having magical powers, a non-human parent, and any mutation. He could also be like Tim, who was just born a natural genius with a high IQ, but that doesn't seem quite right.

Tim's brilliant mind shone through every moment of his life, even when he was naive and sheltered. Danny seemed to generally have only some areas of advance knowledge.

He was able to name the star constellations after flipping through one book with Jason- Jason read out load , acting like he wasn't cuddling with his nephew before Danny's naptime- but could not understand what the things in the kitchen were even after Alfred explained.

He understood everyone in conversations but seemed only able to follow along when someone put him in front of a TV or radio if it was created for toddlers. He spoke in small sentences- Dick was worried he was behind his peers in this- but could still make it clear what he meant and why.

Danny seemed to understand how to use computers, having found Tim's and gotten on the internet, to watch space videos without anyone teaching him how but seemed lost in how to use a cellphone.

Even his walking seemed off. Danny almost seemed to be used to walking with different feet, only to become as graceful as Cass when running.

Sometimes Dick thought Danny reminded him of a patient suffering from amnesia. As if though his memories where in there somewhere, resting until Danny needed them. But how much could a three year old lose?

If he is like Tim, maybe a lot.

If he wasn't, maybe none was lost, and his son just happened to be like that. He doesn't know, but Dick plans to be there for his boy's development and figure out what was going on.

"If anyone challeges your honor?"

"Going Ghost"

Damian nods. "Yes. Make them into ghosts"

Dick wonders where Danny's fasciation with ghosts came from. He just one night got up from his side of the bed in Dick's room, wabbled over to the large set of windows and stared at the stars.

"Ghosts Tati." Danny has whispered once he realized Dick felt him leave the bed. "They here."

Dick.....didn't like that. He texted Raven to check for any hauntings or demons that same night.

[sundaycentric]

⌢  ⌢ yandere choso x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, sfw, headcanons, stalking, choso is weird idk, dependency?, mentions of babytrapping, mahito jumps u btw, mahito warning, general obsessive and possessive behavior, possibly ooc?? idk i wrote this for my own pleasure ... 1.3k words

— Choso has only cared about 3 people in his life. His late brothers, and his alive half-one. Not even his "colleagues" that he has to work closely with on their schemes. Outside of his family, nobody else mattered. At least, that's how it was. Choso doesn't consider you family, so why is it that he seems to care so much about you? It angers him. Has he lost loyalty to his brothers?

Choso tended to avoid you at first, paying you no mind like the rest that surrounded him. The most attention he'd allow himself to give you is subtle glances or the occasional hand when you needed help. Nothing more, as you were nothing to him. Except you were.

Choso realized his feelings, despite not being able to tell exactly what they were, pretty quickly. The weird beating of his heart when you were around, how his hands got shaky, and how he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck as he spoke to you, nervous that you wouldn't approve of him somehow. He became a bit more conscious around you. He wanted you to like him.

Choso thought these weird, firstly platonic feelings towards you were because you were family. Perhaps Itadori wasn't his only half-sibling. However, thinking about it like that made Choso feel awfully weird. You weren't his family, as it made his stomach churn to think of you as such. So, what were you then?

.

.

.

— Choso didn't care what happened to the people of Shibuya during that incident. When planning it out with the other curses, he felt no sympathy or worry for the people who would be present. Yet, upon hearing that you could possibly be in Shibuya on the day on the attack, Choso almost completely forgot about everything else.

Choso had separated from the others to look for Itadori, to try and get his revenge. While walking around Shibuya, he passed many of the trapped people within the veil. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers which Choso paid no attention to. Their conversations did not matter to him, who was focused on something else already.

Choso then heard your name fall from someone's lips. The voice sounded familiar. He turned around to verify, and it was one of your friends. Choso had taken a liking to 'watching' you as you went about your day, so it was no trouble recognizing this person you frequently saw and spoke with. Suddenly, he started paying a bit more attention to the conversation.

Choso listened as the person spoke. He knew he was wasting his time he could be using to search for Itadori, but he couldn't bring himself to move. From what he heard, you might be in Shibuya right now, specifically in a location near the veil. Without a second thought, Choso set off in another direction.

— Choso felt pure rage like this only once before in his life: when he found out that his brothers were dead. He had made it to the edge of the veil to see Mahito toying with you. It made Choso sick to even see you crying for a split second. Without thinking, he stepped in and used his curse technique to force Mahito to step back.

Choso looked furious. His eyes furrowed, brows pulled down in a sharp V. His fists shakily clenched onto your clothes, pulling you up into his grasp. All the while, his shrunken pupils glared at the curse in front of him. A few drops of blood fell onto you from the mark on his nose. Choso made no effort to clean it.

Choso frowned even deeper as Mahito laughed, questioning his behavior. He gritted his teeth together, the grinding sound rough. He wasted no time in telling Mahito off, claiming that you were his and that Mahito needed to go somewhere else. Mahito only looked confused since Choso seemed so occupied with you, what about hunting Itadori down?

Choso breathed a deep sigh of relief as Mahito left, deciding that this wasn't worth his time. After all, he needed to find his natural enemy before Jogo did. Choso watched as Mahito skipped away before looking back at you. How shaken you were, some stray tears still dripping down your cheeks. You looked so fragile, like a doll. Choso, after seeing you almost get into serious trouble, decided then that you were too weak to be out on your own. He'd protect you now, and he wouldn't fail loosing you as well.

— Choso lovingly ran his hands through your hair, the fingers playing with your locks. He had you resting in his lap, consoling you and making sure to wipe every tear that formed at your waterline. He might not know exactly what he feels, but he knows that protecting you is just as important as protecting his brothers.

Choso wouldn't allow you out of his grasp, let alone his sight. However, you are a bit confused because this man is a stranger, but he did save your life. You could tell he was strong, so it was best to stay with him. He tried to be soothing and gentle as well, but it was a bit difficult for him: Choso knew humans were more fragile than curses, and he didn't want to get too happy to finally be in contact with you.

Choso noticed that you began to calm down as he petted your hair, but you were still shaken. He couldn't blame you: Mahito was terrifyingly sadistic. However, he was glad he was able to intervene before things spiraled. He gently pushed your head against his chest, cradling you as he would do to a young child.

Choso began to speak, trying to calm your nerves even more. He apologized for Mahito, reassured you were safe, and even made some subtle comments about some things you liked. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that he shouldn't know those things since you had bigger issues to worry about. Like your friend, who Choso overhead and you knew was in Shibuya.

— Choso blankly stared at you when you inquired about your friend's whereabouts. He shook his head before shushing you. Your friend was in the main building, there was little likelihood of their survival. But why did that matter to you? They weren't your family. Choso's chest felt weird. You shouldn't care about your late friend. You are here with Choso right now. Why are you worrying about another?

Choso felt jealous. Light jealousy, but still jealousy. That's when it finally clicked for him. No, you weren't family. But you were his. When he said you were his to Mahito, he hadn't even realized what he said. However, now he finally realized what he said, and what it meant. He loved you.

Love was such a strange concept. He stared down at you, his hand playing with your hair without thinking. He was in love, with you. His grip on you got slightly more tight as his thoughts wandered. He had saved your life. Did you love him back for that?

If you didn't, that'd be okay. Choso prefers if you love him back, but you'd learn to either way. He needed you. You and his family were what he loved. But what if you and him had a family too? He knew his mind was going too far too soon, but he couldn't shake the idea of having kids with you. Maybe that'd be another way to get you to stay. That sounded like a good idea.

— You gazed up to Choso, who had gone unresponsive while thinking. You frowned slightly, a bit worried. Gently, you tapped him, and he seemed to wake back up. He stared at you silently for a few more moments before fully hugging you. His mouth was close to your ear, hot breath tickling you, "You'll be perfect."

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him. 

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you. 

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him. 

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more. 

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you. 

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track. 

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two. 

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same? 

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you. 

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context. 

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused. 

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck. 

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you. 

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it. 

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.” 

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh. 

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient. 

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it. 

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them. 

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes. 

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans. 

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.” 

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered. 

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night. 

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places? 

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take. 

He really should solve this problem and make you his. 

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with. 

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused. 

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay. 

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body. 

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando. 

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him. 

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you. 

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.” 

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time. 

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him. 

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds. 

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date. 

“About what?” You ask confused. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words. 

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.” 

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅱ

٠ ࣪⭑Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a Padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: thank you guys for your support, like for real, please like, comment or reblog so I'll know if u want me to continue the story!

"Where did you go?" The dark timbre of his voice makes you shiver. "I, out, t-to get groceries and, and ingredients—"

"Ingredients for what?"

"Restock ou— y-your, uh, shelves"

"And since when was that your job?" He tilted his head, or helmet, you don't know. Mae was nowhere to be seen, it was only you, your master and the fire crackling. "I, you were running out of them so I assumed—"

"Assumed," he chuckled, the cave seemed to bounce off his voice, making it sound more intimidating than it is. "You and your big words huh?"

"B-big words? I don't—"

"That's right, don't. Don't ever disobey me like that"

"Disobey?" You scoff inwardly, since when did you even? Because out of the goodness of your heart you decided to buy a few goodies for your master? Make him proud? and you're here getting lectured about being disobedient?

"I'm, I'm not, you were running out and, and I didn't want them to empty completely, so I wanted to help you restock for the.. f-future .."

Your words die down on your tongue when he approaches you, his long strides opposed to your little attempts at backing away, your back hits the ropes keeping you from falling, the wind violently howling as the sun settles down.

"I leave you for a day and you go dallying to some, some planet?"

"I, I went to O—"

"Oh I know where you went," he pauses, locking your arms in his deadly grip, you gulp at the muscles flexing on his biceps. "W-what? Did Qimir—"

"No." His response came out a little quick, and shaky, but you didn't have to know that. "You really don't think I'd let my padawans go around freely do you..?"

You bite your tongue, you've never seen him angry like this, angry at training yes, but not this angry, maybe he's having a bad day, that's why you bought additional groceries when you left Qimir earlier.

"Answer me!" He shakes you, the wind howling louder once again, you shiver in his hold, you weren't exactly wearing thick clothes, especially when it was so hot during the day, but you guess the rain is coming, or even a possible storm, yet neither gets you distracted at your fuming master in front of you.

"N-no!..no, you don't.."

"Exactly" he growled. "Then tell me why you'd left here with your little ship across the space for something so, so small, so little, so simple"

You wanted to yell at him, tell him you're not a prisoner, that you could leave the planet anytime for all he cares, but you bit your tongue and fight back the argument.

"Something on your mind, Bee?"

That nickname again, you've been called everything, princess, lady, little girl, padawan, daughter, not bee, you're starting to hate the nickname already.

"Hm," his grip on you loosens as is the breath you've been holding since you came, you rub the sore spot on both your arms when he disappeared from your line of sight, he's aggressive, very aggressive, but only during combat, this was different, it almost felt like you were a child getting scolded, almost.

"Hey" your head whips to your left, the tension on your shoulders leaving when you see Mae approaching. "M-Mae,"

"What are you doing out?"

"I, it's, it's hot inside.. haha" you chuckle nervously, Mae only brushed you away and headed inside.

-

Sleep did you no good, you can still hear his voice in your head when you laid down. After Mae came, your bed was taken by her, so now you're sleeping on the cold hard ground, only two pillows and a blanket supporting you every night.

You didn't get to sleep the first few nights, still freshly used to the soft warm bed Mae was sleeping soundly in, you wondered that night if you were going to be able to build your own, but he quickly shut down the idea, naming it as a waste of materials.

Sometimes you pondered about asking for help from Qimir, but you didn't want to bother him, although the thought always stayed in the back of your mind.

You sighed and peeked at the entrance of the cave.

Blue.

The sky was already starting to brighten up, you gently got up from your lying position, careful not to move any trinkets that might cause alarm.

Would Qimir be up by now? You didn't want to face your master today, the thought of being near him makes you shiver slightly.

You pause when you hear rustling, your eyes quickly scanning the room for the source, no way any of them are up during this time, your shoulders drop in relief when you see a small rabbit at the entrance, phew, you thought you were about to be a goner.

You resume, quickly slipping into your shoes and additional protection from the sun, or rain. You hope Qimir is awake, or you'd be going there for absolutely no reason.

You gathered only little things, water, small knife, enough credits to last you at least a few hours, you hope your master wouldn't be too angry now, since Qimir was a friend he wouldn't worry about you running away.

You hurriedly tiptoed around the cave and up to the entrance where you find the bunny still there. You poke it with the blunt end of your knife.

"..hello?" You whisper, you didn't want to scare the bunny, it might make a sound and sabotage your whole escape mission.

You frown as you tilt its tummy, its full and round, and obviously breathing, maybe it's hibernating?

You shrug and resume with your agenda, carefully, you navigate through the treacherous rocks and calm waves, leading you to a small ship, it was advanced, a very new model from the last few months, your master agreed to let you keep it because it had only little buttons to press, you were too confused with what to do with his big ship, although when Mae came, she only had to learn all about it for a day then boom! She can already fly it, so much for buttons, you would've done it too if you didn't have your small ship, but you do.

The tension on your shoulders went away when your ship soared in the air, zooming up to the space, that's when you heard chittering out the back, you frown, you don't remember the engine breaking yet, or screws loose, you flick the auto-pilot switch and pull out your knife, going into battle stance.

"W-who's there!"

No answer.

"You, you better not be armed!"

You clenched around the knife when there was still no answer, you approached the arch connecting to the hallway. An ambush! Aha! You raised your knife, preparing to stab whoever it was when you were met by the same bunny from the cave.

"Wha.." you knelt down, letting it smell your hand. "Now what is a little thing like you doing here?"

You hid your knife back, carrying the bunny in your arms. "It's cold out huh?"

Chitter, chitter

"Let's get you warmed up then"

-

Moments before you arrived you found a box somewhere inside the ship, you poked holes in it and put the bunny there, you decided you'll let it go when you come back.

The chirping of the birds filled your ears, the bustling planet Olega wasn't so bustling during the wee hours of the day, you could clearly see how big and empty it is without the crowds. Your heart beats louder as you approach the apothecary, you hope he's there, he had to be.

You gulp nervously when you notice the door barricaded from inside.

Closed.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. What now?

You bit your tongue, you for sure didn't want to go back yet, you could stay in your ship and wait for Qimir, but it would bore you so bad, exploring Olega isn't a bad idea, except someone might snitch again..

You groaned and rolled your eyes, why'd you have to suffer today. The hair on your nape suddenly tenses up, you look around your peripheral but there was no one there, you couldn't feel any signatures, so why..

"Hey, miss?"

You yelp and cross your arms in front of your face, shutting your eyes closed.

"W-who's there!"

"Uh," the male voice pauses. "That's my line but uh... Thanks? I guess?"

Your other eye slowly peeks open, the first thing you saw was the beige clothing, with a little orange on the sides, maybe even yellow, by now both your eyes were already open, although your arms still stayed crossed.

"I won't hurt you"

"How would I know that," the last few words came out shaky, you inwardly curse yourself, the first rule was to not look meek and weak!

You heard him chuckle, seemingly amused by your guard. "If you would just take a moment to look at me clearly then you'd know."

You don't answer, your eyes were darting everywhere trying to find an exit.

"Don't think for a second that you can escape, missy"

"I'm not"

"Yes you are"

"No"

"I can see you, you know?"

You curse, hitting the barrel behind you, you hesitate for a moment before dropping your hands down.

"Now, do I look like I would hurt you?"

Fuck.

Jedi. You grip the ends of your robes, you haven't encountered a Jedi ever since that night your master took you in, that was the first and last time you even saw one, and now your face to face with a Jedi. Alone.

You search for Qimir or your master's signatures, but none you can reach, you weren't that good when your master dropped you out of his Sith school of learning, so all you can do right now is try to find your way out, peacefully.

"I, uh," you gulp, he's definitely handsome, pretty even, his hair twists upwards on his head, you're sure it would look horrendous on others, but he makes it look good on him, his facial structure reminds you of Qimir, only his was sharper, and the Jedi's was a little softer, and plumper.

"Yord" he says, taking a step forward which makes you step back, the barrels loudly dropping to the ground with a domino effect. "Don't, don't be scared."

He raises his hands up, showing he had no weapon hidden somewhere. "I'm- w-we're here to patrol the planet for a while,"

No answer.

"But," he pauses, frown etching on his face. "You don't look like a local from here, are you not?"

You shake your head. "Quiet now are we?"

You almost thought you were talking to Qimir, but this isn't him. A jedi. With you. Alone.

"So what brings you here?" He tilts his head, trying to look friendly, which you learned a lot of Jedi use that kind of trick when it comes to coaxing a criminal. But you're not a criminal right now huh? Not to him. He doesn't know you does he?

"I, I wanted to buy, something, medicine! Yes medicine, for my friend at home"

"Why so early though?"

"Uh, he needs them asap, or else he's gonna die" you made a dying gesture, and awkwardly tried to brush it away. "Dying friend then?"

"Uh— yes"

"Hm, I might know someone open right about now" he says, moving past you like you weren't there. "If you want to come that is."

You looked over to his shoulder to you, raising his eyebrows. "Uh,"

"It's fine if you don't," you don't see it, but you know he's laughing somewhere inside. "But won't your friend have to die for that?"

Notes: Yord?! He's here?! Hello?!

[trappolia]

KISS ME ONCE AGAIN ── silver x gn!reader, 1.6k

silver has always taken his time with you.

he has never been able to tell you why. lilia says that it is just the way he is, ever since he was a boy. he plays by the rules. he goes by a routine that is, as much as possible, not too affected by his strange sleeping habits.

it is why he goes through the meticulous steps of courting you, offering you flowers and gifting you with thoughtful trinkets and even writing letters for your family while your worlds remain separate. it is why it had to be you to take the first step and kiss him one night during a star-gazing date because gods damn it all, you’re sick of waiting.

( silver laughed and laughed that night as you apologised for your callous actions; because you were so cute, because he was so in love, because it all felt like a dream come true when he allowed himself to ignore tradition to cup your cheeks and pull you into another kiss. )

silver discovers very early on that even when he takes his time, it's all still overwhelming. like a dream come true, he used to tell lilia in bouts of deliriousness when he's still caught between dream and reality and his mind is too muddled with sleep to care about embarrassing himself in front of the fae who had raised him.

like a dream come true.

but what is his dream, exactly?

a cottage deep in the forest of briar valley, with ivy growing up the walls and over the red-tiled roof. soft, packed dirt with growing flowers of all kinds, spring blossoms of pink, yellow, blue, red, protected by a low wall. there are no horrors with dripping ink and dragging claws, no glowing emerald eyes or scaled wings. just grass and flowers and sky and nothing.

no. not nothing. because there's you.

"i just cleaned, so remember to take off your boots by the door!" silver hears you call out from inside the cottage. his chest quakes as he lets out a ragged breath, his bag dropping as he rids himself of the extra weight.

the floor below his dirty boots is clean slate compared to the cluttered kitchen to his left and the living area to his right. silver sees the same threadbare couch by the stone fireplace, cluttered with throw pillows and blankets and an unfinished knitting project. the couch is old. used. loved. there are some closed doors beyond the stairs, but silver doesn't have to check to know what lies behind them. his old childhood bedroom where lilia used to tuck him in. a bathroom that has been flooded one or more than a few times when he got too carried away with playtime. the small study where he used to have his lessons on reading and writing.

there's something about the sight of his childhood home that sets silver off, as if he’s caught in crosswinds, but he fumbles his way inside anyway, toeing his shoes off out of ingrained politeness. his footfalls feel heavy and light all at once against the wooden floors as he walks — almost as if by habit — to the kitchen where he had heard your voice come from.

"there you are," you beam at him, putting a kettle of water on top of the same stove that silver had watched his father cook his meals so many times. your brows furrow when you notice the strange expression on his face; the emotions whirling in his aurora irises like a hurricane and the trembling of his bottom lip.

you frown, wiping your hands on a cloth rag. "silver? what's wrong?"

silver lets out a ragged breath, his hand shaking as it comes up to cradle your own as you cup his face in your palm. what is wrong? this is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? a life with you in the woods he had grown up in, free of worries and dangers and hurt and anger. he's built a home with no fear, no yelling, no uncertainties. just like the life lilia always wanted to give him.

it's a dream come true.

"you're a dream," silver whispers when he realises, his hands coming up to cradle your face in turn. he's shaking, he knows that even with his mind whirling, but he just can't help it— he has to touch you, make sure this isn't— this isn't a nightmare—

no. no, no, no. malleus wouldn't do that. this is his dream. this is what his heart has always yearned for.

"my dream."

"well, aren't you sappy today?" you muse, lips quirking up in that soft smile that silver oh so adores to kiss. "what's the occasion?"

"i—" silver opens his mouth, but no words come out. what can he say? what can he do, knowing that this is all he's ever wanted, but this is a dream. this is a dream and you're not real but gods, does silver want you to be.

a beat passes, and your smile turns sad.

"you know, don't you?"

silver feels his heart ache. he wants to tell you no. no, please keep this veil over my eyes. pretend i don’t know this isn’t real. please. please.

you reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness that silver feels like crying. “you’ve always been so smart, silver.”

“i’m sorry,” he allows himself to say, because this is the least he owes you— this perfect imitation of you that his mind, malleus’s magic, has managed to conjure, because in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to ingrain yourself into every fibre of his being so that even under this spell, all silver can dream about is you, you, you.

silver doesn't want to wake up. he doesn't, he really doesn't. there's something in him that pulls at his heartstrings, tugging at every vein and nerve as if begging him to stay, please stay. there must be a reason why you're always falling asleep, why this had to happen. just stay. this is a dream come true, why would you want to wake up?

“you’re still there,” silver says in a voice so small, it feels like he’s a little boy again, crying and clinging onto lilia like the fever that sticks to his skin and reminds him of his mortality.

“you’re still there, and i’m here.”

his childhood home is small, but within the cottage and with your hands cradling his face, the thick walls feels unnaturally closer, like something is breathing on the back of his neck. he’s reminded of you, somewhere in night raven college, trapped within your own dream. do you think of him, he wonders? has he become your new dream, just as you have become his?

will he ever see you again?

silver can't bear the thought of you somehow waking up from your dream — a matter of when rather than if, because silver knows that you've always had a knack for getting out of impossible situations like this — and realising that he had left you alone to stay in this eternal sleep, with this dream– this illusion of what could have been.

“i have to go,” silver whispers, and his heart breaks because this might be a dream, but it’s still you. how can he tell you he’s going to leave? he can’t do that. he can’t break your heart like that, he can’t—

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry— i'm so, so sorry.”

he expects you to stop him. what do the stories say about dreams where you’re supposed to be kept unaware, blissfully oblivious to the fact that this utopia is not your reality? silver expects this dream version of you to pull some sort of trick to lure him back into your trap—

but instead you just smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, "how lucky i am to have someone like you love me."

silver hears something crack, resonating in his soul. is it the chains of malleus’s magic breaking its hold on him, or the last pieces of his heart shattering at last? he doesn’t know.

maybe it’s both.

but whatever it is, silver knows he doesn’t have much time. his hands cup your cheeks, pulling you close to him with the desperation of a dying man.

he feels you gasp against his mouth, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip inside. he maps the cavern of your mouth as if immortalising it in his mind, like he’ll never see you again after this— because that is very well a possibility, no matter how he tries to ignore it.

silver kisses you like it’s his last day in this godforsaken world, because it might as well be, and great seven, he should have done this every time he kissed you. he should have kissed you first. he should have kissed you every moment he could instead of taking his time because now he can hear the sand running in the hourglass, and he’s blind to how much time he has left, and he just wants to see you in the flesh again, please, please, please—

the two of you part an eternity later, but it still feels much too soon. there’s so much love in him, and too little time, and silver feels like drowning.

"wait for me," silver pleads. he'll make this dream come true, he swears. he’ll give you all the love he has in this wretched body of his, and then some. he’ll never sleep again even, if only to make this dream come true.

"i will," you whisper breathlessly—

—and with a bittersweet smile and a final, fleeting kiss to his lips, you let him go.

© trappolia 2024

[tim-shii]

a/n: a gift for @svnarin 🫶 may he come home 🙏 this is a meet cute kinda thing hes fine very fine and hot too i'd kiss him the moment i see him for the first time (im the one who read a liquor lingo article for this yes)

gallagher thinks you look out of place. arms almost sticking to your torso and constant glances around your surroundings, he deduces that you’re either being stood up or it’s your first time in a place like this. since there’s not many people on the counter right now, he sees there’s no harm in approaching you.

“what can i get you this evening?” his raspy voice pulls you out of your daydreaming. you look at him with wide eyes and instantly, you’re fiddling with your fingers. 

“uhm.. a cola, maybe?” he blinks once, then twice, before chuckling.

“never been in a pub before, sweetheart?” he leans with his forearms on the counter, slightly tilting his head at you. 

“no. but i’ve read a liquor lingo article before coming here.” 

“and is that helping you?” 

“no. not really,” you wince. “can i please get a cola?” 

“don’t have ‘em. sorry, sweets.” gallagher shrugs, grabbing a table cloth and pretending to wipe the wooden surface. he snickers at your frowning face. 

“can i offer you a cassis soda?”

“i don’t know what that is.” you shake your head at him. he notices the tension slowly leaving your body. the previous signs of anxiousness nowhere to be found, you’re leaning on the counter and actively engaging in a conversation with hin.

“a virgin mojito?” he cuts you off before you even get to shake your head at the sound of an unfamiliar drink. let’s be honest. with it being your first time in a bar, all drinks are unfamiliar. your safest bet would probably be a glass of water.

“i’ll make you a virgin mojito and you can try it. if you don’t like it, i’ll grab a can of cola.”

“deal.” you watch as he moves around, skillfully making your drink like it’s second nature. in a matter of minutes, a glass of a carefully curated mocktail sits in front of you. you look up from the drink to the handsome bartender, he has his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised at your stare.

“well? go on, try it. you saw me make it. trust me, there is no poison or love potion in that.”

gallagher hums as you take a sip from your drink, turning for a moment to grab something from the cooler behind him. he turns back just in time to see your face scrunched up, nimble fingers not-so-subtly pushing back the glass to his direction.

“i’m guessing you’re not a fan?” he mused while handing you the promised can of soda, tab already opened. you rejoiced in the fizz of the beverage you’re used to. “no, definitely not a fan. maybe after a few more tries, i’ll come to like it.” 

“then, i’ll be making it for you a few more times.” 

“it’s a date.” although taken aback by your words, gallagher hid his astonishment with a devilish smirk. 

“sure, sweetheart. a date it is then. now, why don’t you tell me more about that liquor lingo you’ve read?”

“okay so a back is a drink—”

maybe next time, he’ll slide a glass of rob roy your way.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[peachiieu]

hi! i love the writings youve done so far! could you possibly do ' the ninja and the readers first kiss ' ? i think that would be cute , thank u !

the ninja and readers first kiss

pairings: cole x reader, jay x reader, kai x reader, lloyd x reader, nya x reader, zane x reader

warnings: cussing

authors note: hi! i’m so glad you love my writings, thanks for requesting! i sorta did oneshot a for each person, i hope that’s okay! sorry if this is inaccurate, i’ve never kissed anyone so it probably isn’t as detailed as it should be. so sorry this has taken so long to upload! i hope you enjoy 💗

word count: 8.9k

COLE BROOKSTONE

you, cole, and wu stand on orange land in the realm of oni and dragons. next to you, cole rounds his hands into a circle, moving them up to his eye and making a monocular.

he peers into the circle of his hands, squinting, “they’re headed towards that arena,” he stares at a dome-like structure, metal barely holding the bones together. he continues, bringing his hands down, “but i don’t think they’re going to see a show.”

“then we have to go in there and break them out! come on!” the younger boy, wu, suggests, a look of determination on his face. he moves from cole’s left to your right, attempting to jump off the land.

he jumps off, cole barely catches him and grabs him by the hood. his arm is in front of you, his muscles extremely visible. you scold, “wu, you can’t just go jumping into action without a plan.” and place your hands on your hips.

the boy next to you nods in agreement, also scolding, “yeah, are you crazy?” his eyebrows furrow in frustration and worry. he pulls wu back up and adds, “the place is crawling with hunters, and getting caught isn’t on my to-do list.” accentuating his words with his hands, gesturing to the arena.

he once again, shapes his hands into the shape of a monocular and squints. he observes the dome-like structure as you sigh, “we’re gonna have to wait it out.”

you look at where cole is looking, checking for any hunters who may be around or patrolling the area. wu argues, “don’t put off till tomorrow what can be done today.” his eyebrows furrow, arms crossed.

you and the dark-haired boy’s attention switches from the arena to the younger boy. one of your eyes twitches when you glance at wu, but both of them are wide with shock. you groan and rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

cole’s hands lower as he asks, his eyebrows raised and his mouth open, “uh? did you—?” his eyes squint as he becomes frustrated but surprised. he would’ve never expected wu to be sassy, “did you just use my words against me?” he frowns.

“they were my words first. you just borrowed them.” the younger boy talks back, a smirk on his face when he sees you holding back a smile.

cole stares at the arena and grumbles, “i’m not putting anything off. i’m trying to come up with a plan! what do you expect me and y/n to do? take them on all by ourselves?” he gestures to you, softly smiling, his eyes squint.

he then turns back to appear serious. he stares at the arena, a fake monocular shaped with his hands. wu decides to tease him, “but i thought y/n is good at fighting. you said so yourself, you wouldn’t stop talking about them last night.” he looks up at the dark-haired boy next to him.

your face flushes, you try to focus on the arena when cole turns to wu, seeing him with an orange monocular in his hands. cole whines and balls his fists up, deciding against slapping the back of his head. you don’t miss the pink tint on his cheeks and the smirk on wu’s face.

when he sees the item in wu’s hands, he asks, “since when did you have that?” he begins to wonder why wu almost always has the right thing at the right time.

the blonde answers, still peering into the monocular, “i borrowed it earlier. like how you borrowed my wisdom.” his eyes set on orange clothes hanging on a rusty metallic hanger, held up by bones. he suggests, “there. we can use that. we can use disguises.” he smiles, you look at him, the interaction between him and cole is adorable.

he hands the monocular to cole, who wearily says, “ah… i don’t know. disguises haven’t worked out so good for me in the past.” he remembers all the times he failed or was caught because of his disguises.

wu jumps down from the land, your eyes go wide and your heart races in worry. you quickly shake cole’s arm, needing his attention, “cole, cole! wu—“ the younger boy jumps and hops along to the rack of clothes.

the ninja lowers his hands and grabs your forearm, gently caressing it. he then realizes, “master wu! get back here!” his eyebrows turn up in worry for the boy, he tugs your arm as a gesture to jump down with him. you slide down as he asks, his grip is surprisingly gentle.

as the two of you chase after wu, he stops at the clothing rack. he smiles and takes down the clothes, changing into pants and a shirt a few sizes too big. you scold, “you can’t just run off like that. it’s not safe, i know you want to help the others but we need to be safe in the process.”

cole agrees and adds to your sentence, “we don’t know what to expect in there. we can make a plan on the way there.” you look through the small amount of clothes on the metal bar. you grab a pair of pants and a shirt that doesn’t look comfortable.

you hold it up and take your shirt off, replacing it with the new one. you hear mumbles from behind you, a higher-pitched one asks, “why are you looking at them?”

“i’m not!” cole responds, you grin and look back at them, not yet changing into your pants. he immediately smiles along with wu. you go back to changing into your pants as you hear cole changing as well.

you turn around, adjusting your clothes so you look presentable. walking near one of the bone pillars, you see a bowl of white paste, that looks like face paint. you dip your hands into it and gently rub it on your disgusted expression. you hear footsteps as the two boys kneel next to you. you then rub the paste on your arms and neck to look like the hunters.

“smart. that way we can blend in, all we have to do now is act like them.” cole compliments, smiling at you. as you continue to rub the paste on your face, cole dips his hands into the bowl and smears the paste on wu’s cheeks.

the younger boy complains, “it feels weird! do we have to do this?”

cole continues to spread the paste on his face, and he rolls his eyes. “yes, master wu. it’ll be safer this way. we can walk in easier now, okay?”

he complies, “okay,” and gives up struggling against cole’s grip on his face. once he’s done painting the blonde’s face, you look up at him. his focus is still on wu, such a small but cute interaction between them. he thought of helping wu before helping himself.

you smother your hands with the paste as you make a gesture to cole to move closer to you. you’re careful not to get the paste in his dark hair, knowing it would tick him off. you gently press your fingers against his skin, covering his face and neck with it. you mumble, “sorry if this feels weird,” he closes his eyes and smiles, shaking his head.

“your hands feel nice,” he compliments, you smile right back at him. when you finish the paint on his face, you look at your work to see if you missed any spots. after deciding it looks fine, you look to wu, who covered his hands in white.

you nod your head to the arena, a gesture that you should head over there. you still needed to find zane, jay, and kai. you hear cheering from the stadium, so you guide wu and cole to the area. in between you and the dark-haired boy, wu looks up at you and asks, “what’s the plan?”

you look back at him and bite your cheek. you have no idea what to expect in the arena, so you don’t have a plan yet. you hesitate, “we don’t know what to expect in there. unfortunately, we can only make up a plan when we’re really inside.”

he sighs and looks in front of him. you climb up some stairs and see a large pit, you guess that is where the ninja are. you share a worried glance with cole, who now has a mustache. he gives you a reassuring smile and continues to walk into the arena.

the cheering grows louder and louder as you walk underneath a concrete arch. you walk alongside wu and cole, who look just as nervous as you. you look around to observe the community’s mannerisms and appearance, they have red eyes. most of them have red marks of different shapes on their faces.

you continue to walk down the steps, seeing a bone fence separating the spectators from the ninja. wu exclaims, “look, there they are!” and points at the blue, white, and red colored ninja.

“but we’re in the cheap seats.” cole says, walking closer to the pit, “if we’re gonna help, we have to get closer. come on!” he swings his arm in front of him, gesturing you and wu to follow him. he walks to his left, not watching where he’s walking.

you attempt to warn him to no avail. he bumps into a man with long, dark hair. you gently place your hand on wu’s shoulder, who backs up into your hold. with your other hand, you tug on cole’s shirt to bring him back to you. he brings his hand back to yours and slowly pulls you up near him. wu looks back at you with a worried expression.

the man with long, dark hair swiftly turns back and gives cole a harsh glare. cole places his arm in front of you and wu, enforcing a barrier between you and the man. the man hisses, “i don’t recognize you!” and moves his head toward cole, his breath having an odd smell.

wu looks up at the older man, a blank expression on his face. cole snapped, “and i don’t recognize you!” he places one of his hands on his hip and another at the man. his eyes narrow and his jaw tightens, attempting to appear intimidating.

the older man laughs and places his hands on his hips. he brags, “everyone knows i am skaar the skullbreaker!” he brings one of his arms up and flexes, showing his strength. he looks at his arm, impressed, then brings it down. he impatiently asks, “now, who are you?”

cole brings his arm back in front of you and wu. the blonde has a worried look on his face, seemingly scared for the older boy. cole defends, “uh, we’re new to camp!” he has a look of uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it’ll pass by skaar. he moves his hands around, animating how important his persona is. he introduces himself under an alias, “the name’s rocky dangerbuff!” he places his fist on wu’s chest, causing him to flinch and move into your hold. he looks worried as cole says, “this is my son, dangerbuff jr., and my partner, ryder dangerbuff!“ he gestures to you.

skaar crosses his arms as his eyebrows furrow, suspicious of your relationship. he tilts his head and observes wu, trying to look for how you and cole are related to the child. cole glances to you, the plan isn’t working as well as he wants it to go. he gently grabs your arm and tugs you toward him, placing one of his hands on your waist and looking into your eyes.

he tilts his head as a way to ask if it’s okay if he kisses you, you smile and close the gap between your lips. one of your hands is still on wu’s shoulder, the other moves to cole’s neck, careful to not wipe off the paste. your lips move against the other’s, and he fully wraps his arms around your waist. you lean closer to his touch, wanting more and forgetting all about how wu and skaar are watching.

you feel him grin against your lips, causing you to do the same. you then tap his chest, needing air. your face feels warm although you’re in the middle of a hot climate. the both of you pull away from each other, now feeling vulnerable. you softly smile at him and forget the act, wondering if he wanted to kiss you to fool skaar or to love you.

you’re still peering into each other's eyes when skaar wickedly smiles, “aye! the dangerbuff’s were always so touchy with their partners! you must be from the dangerbuff clan!” your attention switches to the man, who chuckles and moves closer to you, “i know stalwart dangerbuff!” he winks, “i bet he’d like to see you. let me fetch him…” he turns around and walks around the stadium, looking for said person.

cole tugs your arm, causing you to pat wu’s shoulder as the dark-haired boy ushers you into the stands. as you walk up the stairs and into the stands, many people are cheering and waving their hands around.

the blonde giggles, “i told you you could do it!” and looks at cole, a smile on his face when his eyes squint. he looks back at you and smiles as well, seeing your puzzled expression. had he told cole to kiss you?

once you set your mind on a place to stand, cole looks over to you and reaches over. he grabs your hand and hides it behind wu, smiling at you. you realize he didn’t just kiss you because of the act, it’s because he likes you. your heart warms at the touch, and wu begins talking about how to save the ninja.

JAY WALKER

you and the ninja are, once again, wanted by the police. the entire force has been hunting you down for days, searching every inch of the city for hints of your whereabouts.

it’s become increasingly difficult to walk into the city and not get spotted or chased down. the ninja have taken turns to go grocery shopping for the week, leaving in pairs.

as it is saturday, all of the ninja meet up in the living room, a fishbowl placed in the center of the coffee table. you all surround it, sitting on the couches.

cole has pieces of paper in his hands, each ninja takes one and passes the rest down to the next ninja. sharpies are placed on the table, cole states, “okay guys, you know the drill.” his eyes point to kai next to him, “make sure to actually fold up your paper so we don’t see whose name is on there until we unfold it.”

“why are you looking at me?” kai asks, confused, his eyebrows turning upwards. he scoots further away from the earth ninja, he accuses, “are you planning to pick me?” a frown forms on his face, eyebrows furrowing.

next to you, you look at jay, whose attention is on the two ninja on the main couch. you joke, leaning into him and covering your mouth, “he was so quick to suspect something.”

he laughs, agreeing, “yeah! he’s always accusing others of stuff, it gets annoying—“

he’s interrupted by the earth ninja, who says, “when i looked into the bowl last time, your name was the first thing i saw because you didn’t even bother to fold it! then you were angry because you were chosen, and you were like ‘oh! cole just hates me, why does he always choose me?’” he mocks him, using a high-pitched voice at the end.

you roll your eyes, watching the scene unravel in front of you as you pick up a sharpie and write your name on the small piece of paper. you fold it up and drop it in the bowl, jay watches your action and copies you, placing his into the bowl as well.

as you continue watching cole and kai argue, you hear small sounds of paper rubbing against paper. your attention switches to the bowl, seeing nya’s hand fishing for two names. you guess she wrote down the other’s names when there was much commotion.

she picks two pieces of paper up, unfolds them, and reads out loud, “jay and y/n are going.”

the boy next to you begins to blush, cole and kai pause their arguing to glance at jay, slowly turning and smirking at him. nya and lloyd give you a knowing look, glancing from jay to you.

zane seems zoned out, he snaps out of it and blinks, warning, “you may be spotted. many officers are around the store we normally go to, almost as if they are guarding the area.”

the ninja next to you asks, “what if we get spotted? what are we supposed to do, how do we avoid them? oh my gosh, i’m gonna freak out!”

“i think you’re freaking out for another reason.” kai jokes, elbowing cole next to him, emitting a laugh out of him. jay balls his fists up, scowling as they continue to chuckle amongst themselves.

you push your knee against his, suggesting, “we just have to cover up, jay. wear a hat or a hood or something. we should go, like, now.”

“okay! what, um— what are you gonna wear?” he asks, standing up and walking outside the living room, you follow closely.

you answer with your response, causing him to nod. you walk separate ways to your room and change, brushing your teeth and taking your phone with you.

as you and jay are changing, a comfortable silence fills the living room. the ninja share glances with each other, smiles forming on their faces.

the hothead breaks the silence and asks, “nya, did you really pick their names?”

she smirks back at her brother, responding, “no, but they need time together. do you see the way they look at each other?”

as the conversation continues, you walk out of your room and meet up with jay, who stands at the center of the monastery. 

standing behind him, you ask, “you ready?” he screams at your voice, jumping back and cowering. you laugh, tilting your head and guiding the way to leave the monastery.

you decide you have to walk down the stairs, knowing you’d be caught if you had your elemental dragons or special vehicles. you and jay talk as you travel down the stairs, sweating by the time you arrive at the bottom.

you continue walking towards the city, and you suggest, “let’s keep our voices down, okay? don’t want anyone recognizing us.”

“but what if i really have to say something and it’s really important?” he asks, a worried look on his face.

“then you can tell me. we’ll be okay, jay,” you reassure, moving closer to him so your shoulders are almost touching.

he smiles at your small action, his anxieties calming down. as you walk into the city, towards the grocery store, you see wanted papers with the faces of the ninja on them.

you hear jay gulp at the sight, eyes looking at the ground as you observe your surroundings. the citizens are acting normal, you haven’t seen any officers yet.

jay gasps, grabbing your hand and shaking it. he accidentally shocks your hand, and the ends of his hair stand up under his hat. he whispers, eyes wide, “y/n, y/n! there’s a ton of officers, like, a lot! some of them are following us!”

you trust his words, firmly grabbing his hand and not responding. as you take a sharp turn, you expect the officers to continue following you. you walk to an alley, pulling jay in with you.

“what are we doing?!” he exclaims.

you respond, “jay, i need you to trust me right now. can i kiss you?”

his face immediately relaxes and turns red, eyes on yours in a lovesick way. a small smile forms on his face, you say, “i’m guessing that’s a yes, hon.”

you gently push him against the brick wall, placing your hands on his chest and leaning up to him. you look into his eyes, he looks back at you with genuine love. 

he leans down, slightly tilting his head and gently pressing his lips against yours. he wraps his arms around your waist, chasing after you when you pull away from the kiss.

footsteps pass by, you hear a deep voice mumbling, “first time I’ve seen a couple making out.”

“what, williams? never been in the hallways of a high school?” an officer teases, you see a group of them passing by the alley and laughing with each other. 

the two of you finally pull away, leaving a warm feeling in your stomach, jay’s cheeks flush. his arms are still wrapped around your waist, you gently rub your thumbs on his chest.

he asks, “was that just so they wouldn’t recognize us?” he glances to the sidewalk, constantly checking if someone happens to pass by.

“it wasn’t just so they wouldn’t recognize us, jay. you’re really amazing,” you respond, leaving him half confused but pleased with the compliment.

he shyly smiles, you kiss his cheek and lower your hands, one to your side and another to jay’s hand. you grab it, saying, “come on. we have to get groceries for the others.”

his hand shocks yours again, causing you to squeeze his hand. he squeezes yours back, looking at you as you guide him out of the alley. you quietly chatter amongst each other, finally feeling so physically close to one another.

KAI SMITH

you and the ninja sit at the dinner table in the monastery, eating lunch. as you talk amongst the others, zane walks out of the kitchen with large plates containing bread, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, condiments, and more.

next to you, kai gasps and launches toward the food. you cover your mouth with your hand, giggling when he quickly assembles his sandwich.

across from kai, jay complains, “kai, stop hogging all the food!”

the fire ninja replies, mumbling because food is still in his mouth, “not my fault you’re a slowpoke!”

they continue arguing, and the other ninja listen in and chatter with each other, grabbing their fillings. you stare at the plate in front of you in silence, zoning out for a moment.

you’re pulled back to reality when the older man across from you asks, “y/n, is everything alright?” with a concerned look on his face.

you nod at your sensei’s question, reaching your hand to two pieces of bread and placing them on your plate. you continue to reach for your other fillings, almost done assembling your sandwich. you are interrupted when jay quickly snatches the slice of tomato you were trying to pick up.

kai raises his voice, “y/n was trying to get that, you jerkoff!” he slams his fists against the table.

you smile at his defense, knowing he was also wanting to piss off his friend. wu announces, “speaking of y/n,” he looks in your direction, “kai and they will be heading to a wedding together.”

your eyes widen and your eyebrows raise, you turn to the boy next to you, his reaction the same as yours. cole asks, “why do they get to go to a wedding and they don’t?”

your face begins to relax, yet your heart races, still in shock about the news. instead of sensei wu answering the earth ninja’s question, zane answers, “they have the most chemistry out of all of us. it would be the smartest for them to go together, considering they are already perceived as a couple.”

“zane is correct. it would be the most convincing for the two of them to go to a wedding, undercover, because they are compatible.” the sensei further explains. the ninja share glances with one another, sending grins in the other’s directions. he continues, “once you are done with lunch, you will go undercover as the smiths, the wedding is for the higher class, so act like it. you need to take the husband’s documents. there will be a file in his bedroom, sneak out during the wedding and steal it. it has important information about trying to destroy the sixteen realms.”

your grin stretches from ear to ear, the boy next to you becomes warmer, and you feel the heat on your side. his face is as red as the tomatoes dripped onto his face.

he uncharacteristically stays quiet for a moment, you keep your eyes on him, expecting flirtatious words from him. when the other ninja returned to talking, you tease, “guess we’ll have more time together then, huh?”

he blushes at your words, not having a response, still shocked at his new mission. you continue to push further, “what are you gonna wear, handsome?” you place your elbow on the table and lay your cheek in your hand.

he smiles and mumbles, “probably… um… a suit… what are you gonna bring— wear, sorry…”

you grab his napkin, answering his question as you wipe the tomatoes and condiments off his face. he looks drunk in love, eyes squinting as a lopsided grin stretches on his face.

the earth ninja complains, “hey, y/n, you two are really cute and all but i can feel the heat radiating off him.” the others agree by nodding their heads and taking continuous, long drinks of water.

kai still hasn’t calmed down, so jay persists in teasing him, “ooh! kai’s overwhelmed with all the attention and love y/n’s giving him!” he starts making kissing noises and hugging himself, moving his hands around his back.

“shut up!” he complains, groaning when jay continues to make fun of him. he places his head in his hands, and the group laughs and teases him.

you gently pat his back and announce, “i’m gonna go get dressed, okay? we should be heading to the wedding soon.”

he looks up at your words and exclaims, “okay!” he stands up and follows after you, walking out the door. the two of you go separate ways to get dressed in your respective rooms.

you make your way to your bedroom, open the door, and search through your closet for wedding-appropriate attire. once you set your mind on an outfit, you take off your comfortable clothes and change.

you walk to your bathroom and brush your teeth, wanting to look top-tier and upper-class. once you’re done fixing up your hair, and grabbing many styling tools, you walk back outside and shut the door.

when you look up, kai and sensei wu are talking, cole is seen patting the ninja’s back. kai wears a black suit with a red tie, simple, but it is the same you expect the other men to wear.

you walk up to the sensei and ninja, kai’s pupils dilate when his eyes see you. he says, as clear as day, “you look so good,” and looks at you up and down with a smirk. it seems like he’s returned to himself.

you compliment, “you look so handsome!” his cheeks flush, and he then begins to explain what sensei wu had told him. the two of you have to make up a backstory on how you two met, expecting people to ask.

“we met… uh,” you think, walking to find a vehicle as you inch closer and closer to the boy next to you, “you were my dad's business partner’s son.”

“smart,” he says, for once impressed. he looks at the array of vehicles, deciding on a good-looking and expensive one. he continues, “sensei gave us the location and information on whose wedding it is. we have all the information we need besides the file.”

you nod, paying close attention to what he’s saying.

he opens the passenger seat door for you, flirting, “after you,” with a smirk on his face. you look up at him, smiling as you attempt to make him flustered.

his hand is still on the door, you mumble, “kai,” he tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing with worry. you slowly wrap your arms around his neck and lean up to kiss him. he hesitantly moves his hand from the door to your back, rubbing it gently.

you attempt to pull away, needing some air, but kai chases after your lips. he grins onto your back tighter, capturing you with his arms. you lower your hands to his chest, softly patting it, and both of you pull away from the kiss.

he gives you a genuine smile, happy at what he’s accomplished with you. you look down at his tie and tighten it, not having realized it was sloppy before.

his grip is still tight on you, not wanting to let go. you give him a knowing look, one that says, ‘we need to get going,’ but he closes his eyes and presses his lips against yours. the kiss is just as filled with passion and love as it was a few moments ago.

when he finally pulls away, you grin at him. his cheeks are flushed and you drop your hands from his chest, he unwraps his arms around your waist. you look back at him before sitting in the passenger seat, seeing him rush to the driver's seat and sit there.

you close your door as he closes his, and the car immediately detects someone sitting in the driver's seat. the car is on autopilot, driving to the destination. as silence fills the car, he uncertainly asks, “what do you want to be… with me?”

you think for a moment, his attention moves from the road to you. you look back at him and ask, “a smith?”

he’s filled with relief, a smile forms on his face. he agrees, eyes back on the road, “i like that answer.”

LLOYD GARMADON

you, lloyd, and master wu stand outside the paper delivery building with their workers. a certain girl with dark red hair swooped over the side of her face stands in front of you, a questioning look on her face.

lloyd takes the lead and stands in front of the girl, you and master wu stand behind him. the blonde introduces, “excuse me, sorry to interrupt but this is important.” he pauses, walking towards her and extending his arm to the girl, “we found a bunch of newspaper clippings with a code, and we were wondering if you could tell us what it means?”

a boy who reminds you of jay stands next to her, with curly, brown hair and freckles with curious eyes. lloyd turns back to you, gesturing for you and wu to come closer to him. you smile and walk behind him, feeling protected when your body presses against his back. you peer over his shoulder when he hands the newspaper clipping to the girl, revealing the code 833-X.

she nonchalantly says, “yeah, sure. that looks like an IDI code.” you three look at her confused, not knowing what IDI means. she chuckles at your confused faces, “individual delivery identifier. it tells you where to deliver the papers.” she said it in a way that makes you feel like you should know what it means.

lloyd beams, “great! is there some kind of archive where we can look it up?” he flops his hand around, shrugging as he talks.

she walks away from him and leans her weight on one leg, “we’re paper delivery professionals,” the boys around her look proud, “we got your archive right here!” she taps her fingers against her head. she looks back to the newspaper, the younger boys look at her with hope, “uh, let me see.” she cocks her head towards a boy wearing a purple sweatshirt, “nelson, 833A, that’s on your route, ain’t it?”

the boy observes the newspaper before his eyes glint with pride, “oh, yeah, that’s 833 andreasen avenue. apartment 22. i leave it in the lobby, usually.” he smiles at you, wu, and lloyd.

the blonde walks back, closer to you, his shoulder touches yours. wu asks, not before noticing the slight touch between you two, “do you know who lives in apartment 22?”

nelson answers, “yeah, yeah… who was it again?” he thinks for a minute, biting his lip as he ponders, trying to remember. he squints, then stops and continues, “oh, i remember! vinny folson.”

“the guy from NGTV news?” you ask, bewildered out of your mind. you place your hands on your temples, whispering, “no way.”

“thanks for your help, guys. but we better get going, we gotta find vinny!” lloyd thanks, a determined look in his eyes when he glances back to you and wu.

you hear various replies, lloyd grabs your hand and guides you to the apartment complex. you warm up at his touch, he feels warm as well, although he wears black gloves on his hands. your footsteps are silent, you turn back to see your sensei still following you. he gives you a slight smile, and you return it and turn back to lloyd.

he guides you into an alleyway, looking both ways before denying, “vinny folson? this makes no sense. how did he know the overlord was returning to ninjago?”

wu replies, “there’s only one way to find out.” he runs out of the alleyway, making his way to the apartment complex.

lloyd looks to you with a soft smile and a nod, he tugs your hand. you follow after him, stealthily traveling to the building. wu walks up many flights of stairs, randomly stopping at one. you give lloyd a look, not knowing how your sensei knows where room 22 is. he shrugs back at you, continuing to follow in wu’s footsteps.

lloyd stands in front of a door, and a gold label says the number 22. he uncertainly says, this is it,” and knocks on the door.

a familiar voice fills your ears, who grumbles, “finally! 20 minute guarantee my ass…” you lower your hand from lloyd’s, expecting the worst.

you’re met face to face with a surprisingly two-armed man in a khaki robe, who holds a mug in his hand.

you can feel the atmosphere change, tension fills the air when lloyd realizes, “dad?” his jaw clenches his eyes go wide.

you turn back to your sensei, not knowing what to do next. garmadon asks, “lloyd?” as if he can’t see the blonde, his son, with his own two eyes. his eyebrows rise, showing the genuine surprise in his expression. he sips his coffee and mumbles, “hmm,” his eyebrows drop, now showing he’s not pleased.

you hear screams from around the building. lloyd shakes his head and frowns, “that’s all you have to say? hmm?” he places his hands on his hips.

garmadon stands in the doorway, continuing to sip his coffee. “i was expecting a pizza,” he complains.” he inquires, “i don’t suppose you’re delivering for buddy’s pizza?”

his brother hisses, “we are not!” and forces his way through the doorway. garmadon moves out of the way just in time, letting his brother, his son, and you in. you turn back to him, having to tilt your head up to fully get a good look at his face. he curiously looks at you, you smile at him and squint your eyes, turning back to lloyd, who looks at you with a worried look on his face.

he gently grabs the fabric of your sleeve, pulling you closer to him. his father announces, “wipe your feet. vinny just vacuumed.” he shuts the door close, and when you walk in, you turn to see gayle gossip on the television. she talks about a crystal island when it turns off, you guess garmadon turned the device off.

“now what are you jabbering about?” he asks, the blonde guards you with his arm, placing it in front of your stomach.

“what are you doing here? this makes no sense!” lloyd sneers, his eyebrows furrowing as his grip on your wrist unintentionally becomes tighter.

“you’ve been here this whole time?” wu accuses, “in the middle of ninjago city? explain this, brother!”

you shyly explain, “we want you to explain the newspaper clippings… if that’s okay. and they want an explanation of why you’re here… so… can you please do that for us?” you fidget with the hem of your shirt, not meeting the older man’s gaze.

“you asked that awfully nice. looks like you’ve got yourself a keeper, lloyd.” his father grins, walking to spray a plant with a bottle of water. you blush at his teasing, and before the blonde gets to argue that you’re not a couple, garmadon says, “loosen your grip on them. anyway, i was hoping to avoid this conversation. but, since you’re here, i may as well tell you the tale.” he grins widely, making you guess there was a twist. lloyd loosens his grip on your wrist, rubbing the area. garmadon continues, “kiss them first and i’ll tell you.”

“brother! we are in dire need, you cannot make them do something like this! it is not your business when they decide to do an act such as intimate and private as… kissing!” wu argues.

his brother looks at you and lloyd expectantly, grinning with mischief in his red eyes. lloyd turns to you, a red hue covering his face. maybe he just wants to get it over with, you think. he gives you one last look, gently placing his hand on your waist and the other on your back. you nod and initiate the kiss, leaning up to him and pressing your lips against his. you feel warm and happy, though a bit embarrassed about being watched by his uncle and father. wu is right, such an intimate and loving act should be in private at your own time.

you feel eyes piercing through you and the blonde, who refuses to pull away from the kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck, and his grip on your waist becomes tighter. you slightly pull away from the kiss for some air, lloyd’s lips quickly chase after yours, encapturing you once again. your lips move against each other’s, and you finally pull away so you can breathe. you gaze into lloyd’s eyes, filled with love, he’s too pure to be in a place like this. you drag your hands down his chest and smile, gently patting it.

you turn your head to see garmadon sitting on the couch, his mug in his lap. he speaks, “well that wasn’t so hard, was it?” lloyd unwraps his arms from your waist and grabs your hand, leading you closer to his uncle and father. he begins his story, “it was after that squabble with the omega oni. after i saved all your lives.” he places his arm on the couch, getting comfortable.

lloyd jumps in, “wait, what?!”

you squeeze his hand and attempt to calm him down. you softly mumble, “lloyd.” and he pouts, looking down at the ground. his father continues to talk, explaining himself as you and lloyd stand nearby. you guide your hand up and down his arm, gently caressing it as a way to keep him from snapping at his dad.

NYA SMITH

nya walks around her room, pacing back and forth as you watch from her bed. she’s been stressing out about who the new samurai x is, although you’ve told her not to stress about it.

she crosses her arms, “gosh, who could it be? misako has too much respect for others, so it can’t be her. ronin probably wouldn’t care if he was actually samurai x and would let me know… it might be skylor, but i don’t know! it makes sense because of all her different fighting techniques, but i think she’d respect me enough because she and kai hang out a lot.” she pauses her pacing and looks at you, eyes desperate, “do you have any ideas of who it might be?”

you lay down on her bed and sigh, “i don’t know, nya. although it doesn’t change the fact that samurai x stole your mech, you have to give them credit for saving your guys’ lives. without them, we’d be in deep shit. maybe try to talk to them appreciatively, then they’ll tell you. i don’t know how else you’d find out who they are, they don’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”

you sit up when you finish your statement, swinging your legs over the bed. nya sighs and sits next to you, hunching over disappointedly. she complains, “their movements are so calculated and precise, it’s like they’re perfect! there’s no way i could take their mask off.”

an idea comes to your mind, your eyes widen as you stay silent. she turns her head towards you and asks, eyebrows turning upwards, “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

as your hands sit comfortably on your lap, she places her hand on yours. you begin to blush, causing you to look away from her. you state, “zane’s movements are extremely close to samurai x’s, but he’s busy doing ninja work. he respects you enough to not steal your mech.” you pause, looking up at her worried face, “the only other person whose movements are as perfect as samurai x’s is pixal.”

she stares at you for a moment, and her eyes widen. she gasps, taking her hand off yours and rubbing her eyes. she exclaims, “oh my gosh, it all makes sense now! she’s never there when samurai x randomly arrives, we hardly see her anymore but she has so much respect. she’s proper and respectful, that’s the only thing directing her away from me thinking she’s samurai x!”

you nod at her words, she places her hands in her lap and falls on her bed, laying on her back. you lay your legs on hers and suggest, “maybe you should confront her about it, in a friendly matter. she doesn’t have anything against you, i’m sure she’d be open to some criticism or suggestions.”

nya sighs, moving her hands to her stomach. she agrees, “yeah, i guess you’re right.” she pauses, thinking for a few seconds. she makes up her mind, “i’ll confront her now.”

she sits up and moves to you, your knees touching. she thanks, “thanks for helping, y/n, i never would’ve guessed it was her, i hope i can approach her nicely.”

you smile at her, “without the information of their movements, i never would’ve guessed it was pixal. you’ll do great, don’t stress about it.”

her smile is genuine as she slowly leans in, her eyes moving to your lips multiple times. she quietly mumbles, “can i kiss you?”

you look at her genuine expression, her words true and wanting. you gently press your lips against hers, her hand cradling yours. her lips are warm and comforting, you’re not necessarily foreign to her touch.

as she pulls away, you smile, already missing her soft lips. you mumble, “should probably get to pixal, huh?” her face turns into a red hue, looking down at your hands as she nods.

she stands up and says, “i’ll tell you what happens after we’re done talking, okay?”

you nod at her words, you stand up and wrap your arms around her waist. her strong arms find their way around your back, comfortingly rubbing the space. you rest your head on her chest, slowly swaying. she pats your back, a sign to let go. you let go of her, smiling as love is in her eyes. she walks away, making her way to confront pixal. you’re left with confused feelings, but knowing you finally have her right where you want her to be.

ZANE JULIEN

all the ninja besides you and zane are on a mission, so he cooks you a meal. as he makes the food step by step, thoroughly following instructions and measuring very carefully, he hears a ringing sound from the counter.

he looks to the side and pauses making the food, checking his phone to see who is calling. kai’s contact photo and his name are shown on this screen, he smiles and clicks the green button, answering the call.

kai is in the middle of talking when the nindroid answers the phone. the fire ninja impatiently asks, “—isn’t he picking up? oh, hey zane! Whatcha doin’, man? did you hit on y/n yet?”

the nindroid’s attention transfers back to his cooking, and he responds, “based on what you’ve said in the past, i’m guessing you’re asking if i’ve ‘made a move’ on y/n yet. i have not found the right time to romantically talk to them. at the moment, i am in the middle of cooking their favorite meal.”

he hears giggles from the other side of the line, another voice is heard teasing him, “what? you gonna kiss ‘em?”

zane recognizes the voice as jay, causing him to roll his eyes. nya defends after the other ninja continue to tease the nindroid, “oh, come on guys! he’s probably nervous to flirt with them, you can’t blame him! but… are you gonna kiss them?” a teasing tone is added to her question.

“i have not made up my mind yet. y/n is very important to me, i do not want to lose our friendship. although, if i do not take risks, like ‘hitting on them,’ i will not have a chance to be with them.” he overthinks, thinking more than he says to the other ninja.

he hears a deeper voice suggesting, “why can’t you just run statistics or something if the two of you can work out?”

zane quickly responds to cole, his mind is made up, “i refuse to run statistics on that! although i want to know whether or not y/n and i will work out in a relationship, it feels like an invasion of privacy.”

“it’s good that you respect them, and we’d love to talk to you more, but it’s late. we should be getting to bed soon, and so should you and y/n. hope the best for you two, night, zane!” lloyd beams.

zane hears various goodbyes from the other side, saying goodbye as well before ending the call. he sighs, still not making up his mind when he should confess to you. he was telling the truth to the ninja, your friendship is important to him, and he would do almost anything to keep it.

he shakes his head before making the food look nice, placing it on dinnerware and walking to the sink, rinsing his hands. he dries his hands off on a towel, he then grabs a paper towel. wiping down the mess he’s made with the food, he cleans the counter, making it spotless in the process.

based on his observations on how much you eat in a meal, he has made the perfect amount of food for you. he grabs a napkin and silverware, picking up the dinnerware. he walks to the dining table, setting it up, and placing everything where you normally sit.

when he is about to walk to your room to tell you dinner is ready, you walk in, your gaze setting on zane. you greet, “hey z! thanks for making dinner, i’m sorry i couldn’t help. i was writing to some royal families, got caught up in it, lost track of time—“you look at the food, pupils dilating, “you made my favorite food?”

you look back at him as he shyly smiles, nodding, “yes, i remember a conversation we had once. you said this is your favorite food, so i decided to make it today. i apologize if it is not what you wanted for dinner tonight.”

squealing in excitement, you grin and sit down at your spot, he sits across from you. he observes your expression as you eat, checking for any signs of discontent. you finish chewing, talking in between, praising zane for his cooking.

once you are done eating, your stomach feels full, and you wipe your mouth, saying, “thanks a lot, zane, that was the best food i’ve ever tasted! normally, meals like this made by other people are good, but since it’s by you, it’s more than a hundred times better!”

he smiles, knowing if he was programmed to, he would be blushing at the moment. he sighs, “it is my pleasure, y/n. i am willing to cook for you anytime, and i am more than ecstatic to know you enjoyed the meal! however, i believe i should clean up. it is getting late, we should be going to bed soon.”

“awh, i feel bad, at least let me wash my own dishes. it’s the least i can do because you made me dinner.” you offer, wanting more time with him.

he shakes his head, “thank you for offering, y/n, but i also have to clean the monastery. it isn’t going to clean itself, so i might as well do the dishes too.” although he wants more time with you, he offers to do as much so you aren’t stressed.

you succumb, standing and picking up your dishes, walking to the sink as you leave them in the pit. you walk back to zane, standing in front of him as you say, “i’ll check up on you before i go to bed, okay? no exceptions this time.”

he nods before you walk away, causing you to smile. as you walk to your room, you wonder when you should confess to zane. you’ve told the ninja about it, they’ve told you he talks about you too, but you’ve never believed them. maybe it was just a cruel joke, there is no way to know besides telling him yourself.

when you arrive at your room, you take a quick shower, change into your pajamas, and brush your teeth. looking into a mirror, you make yourself look presentable before you put on slippers.

you walk to the kitchen, still expecting zane to be cleaning up. he turns around at the sound of your footsteps, pausing and wiping down the counters. he greets you, “hello, y/n. why are you still awake?”

you move closer to him, standing next to him. you reply, “just wanted to check up on you before heading to bed.”

he smiles, “that is very thoughtful of you, y/n, thank you, but i think you should be going to bed.” smiling

smiling back at him, your mind is filled with uncertainty. he notices the look on your face, he begins to worry, “what is wrong, y/n? you seem distressed.”

he moves closer to you, his eyebrows furrow with worry. you hesitate, “i might regret this...”

his head slightly tilts, and he asks, “regret what? are you—“ you interrupt him, quietly apologizing as you look up and kiss his cheek.

zane’s eyes land on yours, his face is blank as you slowly back up, tears forming in your eyes. you’ve made the worst mistake of your life, you think.

“i’m— i’m sorry…” you mumble, regretting your actions. he smiles, eyes crinkling, and the moment of you kissing his cheek continues to replay in his mind.

he moves closer to you and asks, “do i have permission to… kiss you?” not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he softly looks into your eyes.

your gaze finally meets his, still feeling nervous. your eyes widen at his question, but you slowly nod anyway. he slowly moves his head towards yours, gently grabbing your hand, and placing his lips against yours. his hands are cold, as are his lips.

as the both of you pull away, your hands are still interlinked, your eyes are still on each other, silence filling up the space. a smile forms on your lips, causing him to smile as well. he rubs his thumb on the skin of the back of your hand, suggesting, “we should be going to bed, it’s late. we can train tomorrow.”

you wait a moment to reply, still gazing into his, for once, warm eyes. you quietly say, “yeah, you’re probably right.” you ponder then set your mind on some words, “thanks for dinner, zane. i’ll see you in the morning.”

you tilt your head up, and once again, kiss his cheek. letting go of his hand, you turn around and walk to your room. he then replies, “goodnight, y/n. sleep well.”

turning back to smile at him, you softly chuckle. it then comes to your mind that zane kissed you, on the lips. such a gentleman to ask before rushing in, you smile. your body heats up as you feel yourself blushing, sparks of the color of your elemental power coming through your fingertips.

zane stands in the kitchen, smiling as he wonders what he should do next with you. thinking whether or not he should take you out on a proper date after months, nearly a year of flirting.

[priniya]

🎥 ACTRESS’ SAVIOUR

SYNOPSIS. when doctor reid finds himself enamoured with a certain actress with bright future ahead of her, she gets kidnapped and all he wants to do is save her by any cost.

going to your father’s bureau for the first time could’ve been considered an usual experience, something that could occur on a daily basis — a daughter, stopping by her parent’s workplace to possibly drop him off breakfast he left at home.

for you, on the other hand, it was a stressful occurrence. it was one of the first times at the BAU, where agent hotchner’s been working for years. the reason behind your rare visits there was relatively simple, you weren’t aware you even had a father until you turned sixteen and your mother has passed away. it was, when the social services found out that beside her, you had other living relatives, so… instead of an orphanage, you moved to quantico. building a relationship with a man, who already had a wife and a son, and no idea that his high school relationship has resulted in a kid, was rough. but here you were, six and a half year later, nervously standing inside the elevator, hoping that nothing would go wrong.

however, it had to go, you wouldn’t be yourself if everything went smoothly. as you looked into your phone to check a notification that popped up on the screen, you were met with a person — too quickly to realise that you were bound to bump into someone. the man in front of you was holding a half–empty cup of steaming coffee that other half spilled all over his brown sweater. a flush washed over you immediately, having taken a notice of what just happened.

“i am so sorry, sir.” your nervousness reached its peak the second your eyes laid on the man in front of you. he was tall, definitely taller than you, almost towering over you, glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose as he grimaced. from the plastic plate on his chest you read his name. spencer reid.

“well, uh. it’s alright.” he muttered, walking past you to change out of his stained piece of clothing, giving you all the reasons to overthink this situation, feeding your anxieties.

the confident attitude you tried to put on was now long gone as you made it through to your father’s office. it was a struggle, because you couldn’t remember how to get there, but when you did, your cheeks flushed even more upon seeing spencer, standing next to your dad, his stained shirt nowhere to be found. “excuse me, uh–” you started, announcing your presence, earning a few curious looks. “dad, you left the breakfast at home.”

“dad?” you heared a female voice whisper, and you swore your guts to know that she looked around the room for an answer, while, unfortunately for her, being left with nothing more than a shrug. the last name on the plastic clipped onto your shirt didn’t match with their boss’, which only confused them more.

hotch cleared his throat, giving you the tiniest smile as he took the brown bag from you. “y/n, these are special agents morgan, prentiss, rossi, garcia and doctor reid. you already know jj.” he said, confusing them even more. “this is my daughter, y/n.”

“hey, i know you from somewhere.” a woman spoke out, her colorful dress catching your attention immediately. “oh my gosh, hotch why didn’t you tell me that you’re daughter is playing on the russos life? i love that show!” her words brought heat to your cheeks.

the russos life was your first bigger gig that got you a little bit of recognition in show-busines and social media. at the beginning of your small acting career, you promised yourself that you’d not go to the television, because theatre was your thing. you can’t even recall the moment when your point of view changed, maybe it was after the call from your agent suggesting you that you should take the role, because the producers were already interested. or, most likely it was when you fell in love with a role you were proposed.

you stayed in the conference room (and in the building in general) for the next few minutes. after you had left, the sweet sound of your voice was still lingering in spencer’s mind that somehow went unnoticed by the team. he was sitting at his desk, frowning over something, when the clock hit three and the decision was quickly made in his mind — go grab a sandwich or you’ll go crazy. the funniest thing for people around him (if he ever let them know) might be that he couldn’t quite grasp the reason of his interest in you. reid found his thoughts trailing off to you as he hovered over the raports he was filling out that he almost wrote your name in there. he pushed the door of a nearby cafe open, intuitively scanning the place. his eyes were all over the place until he felt someone at his back.

“shit— sir, i’m sorry, i don’t know what’s happening with me to–” you began to rumble as the man you bumped into turned to face you. your face grew redder, the second you realized it’s the same person you’d bumped into already, which only made you feel more embarrassed.

oh.

“doctor reid, i’m really sorry.” you hoped your words came off as genuine, because they were. it almost seemed like you had some sort of scheme against him that you had to bump into him whenever he’s around. “at least i didn’t have a coffee on me, right?” an awkward smile crept on your lips, trying to ease the situation.

the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as spencer was taking in your beauty. the way your eyes flickered, the way lipgloss coated your lips, the way you had your hands behind your back or the way you tilted your head to get a better view of his face. the height gap between you and spencer wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a little troubling. “thank god, i didn’t exactly have another spare shirt on me.” his repsonse made you chuckle quietly, feeling the embarrassment wash away with each word that left his mouth.

you don’t even know how much time had passed since you started your little conversation with doctor reid. even though you were the one rambling on and on, he has asked you a few times about your job, genuinely interested in what you do on set and what is your show about. he remembered the cheap looking show lila had played in, back when the bau had her case. you told him all about the plays you partook throughout the entirety of your school year and he dumped all the facts he knew about the plays on you.

you could see yourself getting fond of his presence around you, it felt eerily comforting, which for you was strange. until you moved to your dad’s place, you had rare contact with the opposite gender outside the plays, no real father figure, no closer relationship with a guy before, you had never felt so comfortable around a man, who you just met. so… it wasn’t really strange that you ended up exchanging numbers, what could be strange (for reid’s friends) was that he was the first one to call.

he kept calling, while you kept happily responding. it grew to be some sort of your thing, almost as if each of you were one another’s happy place. whenever he got frustrated with a case, he’d call you to take things off his mind, which always went smoothly. spencer was probably the biggest fan of your endless rambling about your classes or people you found annoying during the day.

the phone calls got more and more regular with each week passed, and when you didn’t call him to say good morning one day, his conscience was going absolutely crazy, his guts telling him something was off. nevertheless, his thoughts were pushed aside as his phone rung out with a call from jj, alerting on a new case.

“NYPD asked for our assistance in a possible serial killer case.” jareau explained as she handed the case files to the rest of the team. “over the course of last few days, four females were strangled before the unsub stabbed them multiple times.” she took a long sigh. “each of the girl was around the age of twenty to twenty three, studied in the state and majored in the arts fields, lived alone, but were socially active.”

a shiver ran down spencer’s spine as he heard jennifer’s words. the victimology were too familiar to you, making the unsettling feeling come back to him. pulling out his phone from the deep of his pocket, he managed to send you a quick text, asking to call him as soon as you see his message.

but you didn’t call him back. he was thinking about you all the time they were gathering more information, but there was some that shocked the team the most. the letters craved on each of the victims’ bodies. at first it seemed… like random letters, a code maybe.

“what if it’s an anagram?”

after that, spencer wrote the letters on the board, his throat tightening when the realisation hit him. the letters could be put in as your first and last name. “hotch, uh, i– can we talk, in private?” he muttered, before leavng the room the NYPD set up for them. his hands were shaking as he paced around the room, trying to find the right words to tell hotchner about his theory.

“y/n and i have been talking lately.” spencer started. “i–i got this strange feeling today, she often texted me in the mornings, almost every day in the past few days and–and she didn’t do that today.” he took a deep breath, flattering his brown shirt. “maybe i’m biased, but i think something bad happened to her, the anagram was– it was her name, hotch.” his words were falling out of his lips almost too fast for your dad to understand.

but aaron hotchner has always been the smartest guy out there, the meaning behind spencer’s words almost immediately got to him, because once again his child was in danger, he had a feeling, when he learnt the victimology, but when spencer said those words, his suspicions were confirmed. “reid. i need you to go to her apartment, i suppose you know the address?”

fifteen minutes later, young doctor was at the door of your apartment. it wasn’t exactly the first time he was there, but it didn’t matter now, not when you could be in danger with a serial killer, looking for you. “y/n?” he knocked on the door three times, when he got no answer, he did the morgan speciality, kicking the door open.

your entire flat was quiet, completely out of place. the last time he was there, around two weeks ago, it wasn’t as neat as it was right now. you had your scripts scattered around the coffee table, pillows disheveled on the couch, dishes laying around the counter, although now, everything was clean. almost too clean. then he found it, a small piece of paper underneath a cup that you made him coffee in.

you won’t keep us apart.

he recognised the fact that your handwriting was different, even though you liked keeping your place a little more messy, often calling it ‘artist’s mess’, your handwriting was neat and precise. you didn’t write this note.

“sir? you’ve gotta take a look at that.”

the last thing you remember was walking down the street, a phone in your hand about to send a quick message to reid that you’d call him as soon as you get to your flat. it was a habit of yours, texting the young doctor to give him a notice you’d call to ramble about your day. just the thought of talking to him had given you butterflies, a thought of hearing his voice after a long day at university and on set was enough to make your day better. you were about to send the message, when a guy bumped into you with so much force you barely kept yourself on ground. before you knew it, you felt an overwhelming rush of pain, passing out soon after.

your consciousness was regained, but the place wasn’t familiar. a small room with window covered with a black fabric that didn’t let any light inside. the walls had pictures stuck all over them. pictures of you, from at least four months back. each day when you were coming back from campus, there was a photo, of you at the library, at the club with your friends, going back from school, even one that captured how you giggled at one of spencer’s facts, when he visited you.

the level of anxiety peaked, when the person who locked you up came back, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, the one you loved so dearly, the one’s your mom had always put up in vases at your house, the one you got from your manager after wrapping up the season one of the russos life. “we’re sorry.” he spoke out, his voice hoarse, cracking here and there.

“but we’re finally together, y/n/n.” he whispered, getting closer to you with each word. “no one will be able to keep us apart. we’re together, for eternity.” his hand grapped your jaw to make you look at him, his lips barely inches apart.

you could feel the overwhelming pain washing over you again, realizing that he probably stabbed you back there on the street — with that realisation, it hurt even more.

his hands were rough on your skin, almost leaving a burnt mark on your cheeks. he caressed it, trying to maintain a gentle manner, causing you to tear up. “please, let me go.” you whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. “please.” his rough, yet gentle hand slapped you across the face, attitude changing immediately.

“no.” he groaned angrily, gripping your jaw even harder than the first time. “you’re not leaving. not when we’re finally together. eternity, sun. together for eternity.” his words almost burnt into your mind.

how long were you there? days, weeks, months maybe. you couldn’t know. the lack of sun, barely any food and water was driving you crazy, nevertheless, right when he left you alone, you realized something that came up to you as a moral of reid’s story he told you about a certain case with a man obsessed with a woman. you had to play into his fantasy, no matter how it hurt and how painful it was, it was necessary to gain his trust.

and you did, played right into his delusional fantasy of you until he trusted you enough to make a mistake. leaving the door unlocked. you left in such a hurry, you couldn’t breathe. the air was suffocating, it was dark, so dark you felt scared that someone would attack you again.

“oh my, miss, are you okay? you’re bleeding.” a lady called out to you, grabbing your shoulder in a soft manner, the presence of a female soothing your nerves a little.

“i– i need to make a phone call, please, could i use your phone?” before you knew it, you were dialing one of the numbers you memorised by heart.

“doctor spencer reid, can i help you with anything?” his monotonous voice rang out in the phone, causing you to sigh in relief. “sorry?” he added. you imagined him frowning, like when he tried to teach you how to play chess and you kept giggling at how frustrated he was getting, while you pretended to not know a thing about chess.

“spence.” another escaped left your lips. “i– i don’t know where i am. i know you’re in quantico, put please help me out, there’s a guy, who—” you started rambling, your vision getting blurry.

“y/n, i know.” he whispered. “we’re in new york, garcia’s tracking your location right now, please stay on the call with me.”

“spence,” you started, holding onto the woman next to you for stability. “i– he’s done something to me, i think– i think, i might pass out.” your tone was quieter with each words, almost stuttering as you felt your limbs weakening.

your world was crushing down on you, the nearby buildings suffocating you, not letting you breathe, the stab wounds overwhelming. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital, machinery plugged into you, your eyelids heavy as you opened them.

“you’re awake.” a familiar voice filled your eardrums as you tried propping up on the bed, stopped by the ripping pain. “hey, hey. don’t move, you’re okay.” his hand was in his, holding you so gently and tenderly you wanted to cry. it wasn’t like their unsub’s, doctor reid was genuine, the way he held your hand was almost… symbolical.

you had four stab wouds on your stomach that the man wrapped into a foil to stop you from bleeding out, but it ripped when you ran away. your face was bruised, marks left by his hands visible on your upper neck and jaw.

“you’re okay.” he repeated his words almost as if spencer tried to reassure himself that nothing would happen to you anymore. definitely not on his watch. “i won’t let him do anything to you again, i promise.” he planted a tender kiss on your hand, squeezing it softly. none of you realized that the rest of spencer’s team, including your father, was standing in the doorway, observing the little moment between you and doctor reid.

the one thing that burst your bubble was derek’s laughter, after having told a joke that obviously involved you, spencer and the fact that he was the first one you called after getting out of the unsub’s place. “looks like pretty boy stole your daughter from you, hotch.” morgan’s elbow nudged your dad’s side.

aaron wasn’t dumb, and from the very beginning, he knew that there would be something going on between the two of you. hotch knew that from the way reid’s lingered on you, when you visited the bureau. how his eyes would always slip to his phone or how he had to get away from the office to make a phone call, lasting all through his lunch break, so when four days ago he told his boss about the suspicions, it all came together.

“i know it’s early, but you have to tell us if you remember everything from those days.” your dad’s tone was soft. if he wasn’t so good at this job, you’d think he tried to make you relive the moment again, but hotch has always been great and you knew it, he wanted to catch the person who did this to you.

“it was, uh.” the words coming out of your mouth was weak, which was no surprise for anyone, since you could barely have your head up to look at the concerned faces of people in your room. “a white guy, his late twenties maybe. i don't remember much beside his hands. i thought of it as something that maybe would let you catch him.”

“what about his hands, sweetheart?” morgan asked. he was standing next to prentiss and rossi, who noted all the important things you said. “did he lack any fingers? had only one hand?"

“no, no.” you shook your head. "spencer told me that, um, most of the sophisticated killers have smooth hands. his weren’t smooth at all. it was rough, like if he was working since he was a kid.” images were flashing through your mind at the speed of light. nevertheless, it didn't feel enough. “it looked like he was in the middle of psychotic break or was off meds, he kept using plural pronouns like if there was another person, but he was alone the whole time i was there.”

when the interview was done, jj stayed behind to talk to you a little. her facial expression revealing that she was interested in your friendship with the young doctor from her team. “so… spencer told you?” she lifted her eyebrows, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed.

“yeah…” your reply sounded a little sheepish. “i kind of ran into him twice, when i came to your office half a year ago, the first time i was too embarrassed to say anything other than ‘i’m so sorry, sir’, but the second time was on his break, i think and it kind of… went smoothly from there.” a blush spread over your cheeks, but jennifer didn’t comment on that.

“you’d look cute together.” her words made your brain go a little fuzzy. maybe she was right, but something in your gut told you that nothing would be happen between the two of you, spencer was the type of guy in love with his work, not a random girl he met on a random tuesday. although, his mind was an enigma, how could you be so sure of that?

“c’mon, jj.” you mumbled, looking away. “we’re friends, strictly platonic.”

the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was there, even after the unsub was caught two days after you were free to leave the hospital. it was only growing, when you were alone with a man you weren’t exactly close with. as bad as it made you feel, being around your dad’s co–workers was almost paralysing. morgan, rossi, the cops involved in your case, who tried talking to you about the entire thing, it was making your hands shake.

“spence?” you whispered, after having knocked on the door of his hotel room, a day before they left.

he opened the door immediately, almost as if his guts told him you were on the other side. he looked like you’d just woken him up. his hair all over the place, his gaze sleepy. a t–shirt loose on his body as he pulled you inside, closing the door behind you. “hey, sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up, thought you’d be still up.” you couldn’t bring yourself to speak louder.

“i had a feeling you’d swing by.” his words made your cheek grow hotter, because to be honest… you were thinking about seeing him, laying down on the bed unable to sleep. “what’s on your mind?” he asked, bringing his hand to your chin, causing you to look at him.

“are all the profilers doing that?” you asked, mesmerised by the way his eyes roamed around your face, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“subconsciously, yeah.” you chuckled. “don’t go off topic. something is bothering you, you know i see it.”

“i just… wanted to see you.” embarrassment rolled off your tongue, knowing that probably lots of women had already told him that. mostly, because morgan told you about the time, when prostitutes tried hitting on him during one of the cases — spencer had his charm, but you couldn’t be sure if he knew. “jesus, you can’t look at me like that, when you’re all that.”

“all that?” reid’s laughter rang in your ears as he made a step towards you, reducing the distance between you two.

“yeah? have you seen yourself before you opened the door? man, i had four stab wounds and—” you began to ramble, but his smirk and the look on his face make you stop, before another chuckle left his lips. “what?”

“nothing.”

“reid!” you groaned, punching him slightly in the arm as he still held your face, tilting it upwards.

seconds later, his mouth were on your, his lips moving against yours tenderly. his free hand squeezing your waist gently, pushing you even closer. it was the first time you felt any type of comfort in the past few days. you were completely speechless as the kiss broke off, looking at him with big eyes.

“i– you–.” you stuttered.

“it’s funny, you usually can’t stop rambling, but now you’re a stuttering mess.” he chuckled once again, his arms firm, yet gentle on your waist as he continued to tease you with a smirk that wouldn’t get off his face.

“i thought if i did something wrong, i’d not see you again.” he whispered, his nose brushed against yours. your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity. “it made me realise how many things i should’ve done before, how important you became to me, y/n. i can’t go on without a thought of you in my mind, you’re like a plague that i don’t– that i’d never get rid of.”

“i know this job is hectic and that i’m a mess most of the time, but you’re the only one that keeps me sane after what i see.” his lips brushed against yours again and you didn’t protest.

“so… you’re saying that you can’t stop thinking about me.” it was your turn to smirk at him, your heart tingling with a feeling unknown, yet so familiar that always appeared around him. “i can’t stop thinking about you, too, you know. i, uh, had this feeling that if i get out, you’d be there somewhere to keep me safe.”

“i am, and i always will, promise.”

“is it you asking me out right now?” a quiet giggle escaped your mouth, earning a hum in return. “only if you’re gonna say yes.”

[illubean]

Hi can I get a nsfw scenario where Chrollo gently seduces the reader during her first time and discovers she has a praise kink? I feel like this man would be literal god tier to have

Gentle Praise

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: NSFW, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, College!au because I'm a sucker for scholar Chrollo

mueheheh >:) reader is a lil shy and awko taco in this but not like cringe stereotypcial "omg im so shyy >.<" type also this ended up being super long thus turning a scenario into a full fic oopsies

Warnings: maybe ooc Chrollo idk, mentions of alcohol, he calls y/n princess a few times, praise (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), reader discretion is advised

Chrollo isn't quite sure how you ended up in a setting like this. You were a pretty little thing with a look so elegant you look almost out of place at one of Uvo's rowdy house parties.

The bright LEDs, loud music and cheap beers didn't seem like your kind of scene. But there was no way for Chrollo to know that for sure.

You stood off to the side near the snack table, slowly nursing your cup of jungle juice that you didn't care much for. You had only taken it from your friend since you felt rude to turn it down. Said friend of yours was currently having the time of their life. They were plastered, dancing through the crowd of bodies and mingling with other drunk partygoers.

You're not too sure why you even came to this party. You much preferred small gatherings, and you don't even like alcohol all that much. You sighed, awkwardly scanning the room until your eyes met a pair of onyx orbs. They belonged to a face you knew all too well.

Chrollo Lucilfer.

He was a year or so older than you, a psychology major. You've seen him around campus and even though he was well known for mostly good reasons, your friends still teased you for finding him attractive. Perhaps you had stared at him for a bit too long though, seeing as a smirk made its way onto his face as he got up to approach you.

You panicked a little, looking around awkwardly seeking a quick escape. You placed your cup down but before you could flee, a voice came from in front of you.

"Hey Y/n."

Oh my god he knows my name.

You managed to spit out a response, feeling your hands get clammy as you looked into his eyes. You were completely and utterly helpless. This man managed to reduce you to nothing but a nervous, sweaty mess simply by just existing. It was kind of pathetic.

But the man responsible didn't think so. Chrollo thought it was cute how awkward you got, not being able to hold eye contact and wiping your hands on your clothes. He was no fool, and he knew exactly what effect he had on you. As a matter of fact he had this effect on quite a few people, though none of them stood out to him like you did.

He would be lying if he said he'd never thought of you in a romantic setting before. You were a cute (your choice) major who he often seen walking around with Machi. From what he's seen, you're not so much of a partier and prefer to focus on your actual studies than crazy frat gatherings. Maybe your more mellow and reserved nature is what drew him towards you.

"I didn't peg you as the party type," he says, breaking you from your previous daze.

"Oh, I'm not. My friend over there dragged me here."

You pointed into the crowd towards said friend, who was currently standing on top of a coffee table, a bottle of some sort of strong liquor in hand as the people around them cheered them on.

Note to self: make sure they get home safe

Chrollo chuckled at the deadpan look on your face after you saw how drunk your friend really was.

"Seems like they're having fun. Why don't we sneak off somewhere more quiet?"

You felt the tip of your ears burn at his offer before quickly nodding as he led the way.

Leaving the loud, hot and crowded living room AND spending time alone with Chrollo? Score!

He took one of your hands into his own, placing the other on the small off your back, leading you past all of the other partygoers and up a flight of stairs. He led you into a rather plain room, shutting the door before letting go of your hand and flopping down to lay on the bed.

"Is it ok that we're in here?" you ask, not wanting to disrespect someone else's house.

"This is my friend Shalnark's room but he's rarely ever home. I crash here sometimes so I don't think he minds."

At his words you hesitantly and awkwardly sit on the corner of the bed, facing away from Chrollo. You had no clue what to do now. The both of you were silent for a while, the light thump of the distant music being the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

After a few moments pass, Chrollo sits up and moves closer to you, leaning in order to make eye contact.

"You don't have to be so awkward around me, y'know? I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

You look away in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from the man before you, who only chuckles and grabs both of your hands.

"You get flustered so easily, how adorable."

One of his hands reaches up to the side of your face to turn you towards him. His beautiful onyx orbs were glazed over in what you could only describe as a mix of admiration and lust.

Oh.

Chrollo began leaning closer, you doing the same. Naturally, your eyes started to close as the two of you got closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then he stopped.

You sat there in anticipation for a moment but nothing came. You opened your eyes and furrowed your brows in confusion, only to find Chrollo already staring back at you with a small smile on his face.

"Is this okay?"

You gave him a frantic nod, a quiet yet rushed 'yes' leaving your mouth. At the confirmation the man pressed a searing kiss into your lips, gently caressing the apple of your cheek as you reached your arms out to embrace him.

His touch was gentle, yet burning with the passion of a thousand suns as he led you to lay across the bed. His large hands slipped underneath your shirt, softly caressing your lower back and waist as he continued his assault on your mouth.

You whimper softly into the heated kiss, feeling your skin practically burn where his body came in contact with yours. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you breathless as he carefully removes both your shirt and bra.

Chrollo takes a moment to take in the sight of you, panting and topless beneath him. He swore he would brand this image into the back of his mind for the rest of his days, never wanting to forget how beautiful you were in this very moment.

"God, you're gorgeous."

His hands begin roaming your body once again as he planted searing, open mouth kisses along your neck and collarbone. You couldn't help but writhe under his touch, soft but needy noises leaving your lips. His words had an affect so strong on you that was unexpected.

Chrollo's hand trailed down the front of your body, slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. Two off his fingers gently prodded at your entrance, before trailing back up to swirl around your clit. You clenched your thighs with a gasp, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

"Who knew my pretty girl would be so sensitive," he coos. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

A violent shiver shot down your spine and into your core. God, if he kept talking like this you might just be able to cum from his words alone. You whimpered, arms tightening around him to pull him impossibly close. He chuckled sofly, planting a few kisses across your face before pulling away completely.

Before you could whine in protest, Chrollo pulled off the clothing left on your bottom half. He settled himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he faced your glistening heat. He looked up at your through his eyelashes before speaking again.

"You doing alright, princess?"

You nodded, face flushed at the nickname. But this didn't seem to be enough of a response for Chrollo.

"You're going to have to use your words, beautiful."

"Yes! God, yes just please...continue."

He chuckles at your desperation before licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy. This draws a trembled moan out of you, which only egged him on further. He buried his face impossibly deep into your cunt, going down on you like a man starved while you reached down to grip his hair. He eased two of his fingers into you as your body writhed with pleasure.

He pulls away from you momentarily, eyes flicking between the sight of his lithe fingers plunging into you and the flushed expression across your face. He felt your walls flutter around him which caused him to smirk up at you.

"You're getting close, aren't you? Go ahead, make a mess for me."

He dove back into your core, determined to make you cum. His lewd words sent you over the edge, having brought you to your first climax of the night. He sits up, making eye contact with you as he licks your juices off of his two digits.

He crawled back up the mattress so now you were both face to face, arms bracing himself on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to meet you in a heated kiss. You could care less that the taste of yourself lingered on his lips. All you could think about is how Chrollo is all yours right now.

After kissing you for a few moments longer, he pulls away from you to hastily remove his clothes. Your eyes followed his movements, starting at his toned chest and moving down his abs. There was a light happy trail that peeked out above the waist band of his boxers. Finally, he hooks his fingers beneath it and drags them down his hips and oh.

He was huge.

Your eyes widened as you took in all of Chrollo's naked glory, his pretty cock standing thick and girthy. His balls sat below it, heavy and full.

How the hell would that ever fit?

The man you had been gawking at chuckles before gently prodding your entrance with his fat tip.

"Don't worry, you can take it. I know you can."

Your heart pulsed at this, heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, embarassed.

"Nervous, sweetheart?"

He leaned down closer to you to plant a reassuring kiss on your cheek, trailing them down your neck and along your collarbone.

"...this is my first time," you admit bashfully, moaning at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"I'll just have to take extra care of you then."

He pushes himself into you, the plush walls of your heat stretching to wrap around him. He continues to kiss you through it as you pull your bodies impossibly close to each other. After sheathing himself completely into your pussy he begins to trust into you, slow and sensual.

He only picks up the pace after feeling your body relax, his thick shaft stretching you deliciously well and hitting all the right spots deep within you.

"God, you're perfect. It's like this pussy was made for me," he grunts, fucking himself into you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It didn't take long for Chrollo to reduce you to nothing but a moaning, babbling mess. Not only could he lay pipe like no one's business, but his praising words sent you to heights you didn't know you could ever possibly reach. You felt your eyes well up with tears as you felt your climax approach for the second time that night.

"Chrollo, 'm gonna-"

Your words were cut off with the sound of your own moan, feeling Chrollo's dick brush against your g-spot. Your pussy quivers and clenches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls away.

"Wait for me, sweetheart. Just a little longer, okay?"

You whine, digging your nails into his shoulder blades as he speeds up and fucks you with newfound vigor. You couldn't hold back any longer, a white hot flash hitting you like an ocean wave as you cried out Chrollo's name. The man cursed, feeling you clamp around him impossibly tight, bringing him to his climax as well.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, prompting him to burry himself deep in your womb. His cum floods your pussy, making you feel impossibly fullwhile you pant, coming down from your previous high. You let go of him, body going limp against the mattress, absolutely fucked out.

Chrollo pulls out slowly, watching his seed drip from your weeping cunt, breathing heavily at the sight of you. You press your hand against your bloated tummy, causing more of his cum to spill out of you. His cock twitches as this, and he wastes no time in mounting you again.

"I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous."

may or may not have gotten carried away with this OOPSIESSSS ;p

[broooooo]

Dronehood

____________________

In today's world , the world has been slowly taken over by drones, whether it was by force, choice or persuasion, men are being converted, covered in a shiny black latex, a second skin, a well built muscled body, constantly aroused and hard. The mind does seem to remain keeping the hosts personality, but there's a big focus of obeying the master and the pleasure of dronehood

At first the world was scared, but as the drone army expanded, it slowly became normal, as if it's a rite of passage for teenage, adult men. It's even become a kind of entertainment to watch a conversion happen, could inspire others , or worn them.

Then there's me

I am Aaron, 21, regular build, living in an apartment, IV never been opposed to the drone movement. It's interesting to watch.

Deep down I wouldn't mind becoming a drone myself, it genuinely sounds fun.

Iv watched my childhood friend, Jason, become one before my eyes, he had wanted it for a while, and decided to get a slow conversion, he wanted to experience all the feelings grow and build.

The conversion itself is simple, intercourse with a drone, you may or may not include leather articles of clothing such as gloves or boots for extra pleasure. When it's done, the new drone is given a serial number name, but can keep their human name for interactions with others, plus they can take off their head mask for easy identification.

I myself don't leave my room a lot, i just watch from my TV or the window, hearing it through my walls too at times. Jason's my roommate, but he's never home, he's busy converting others or just hanging out with other drones.

Somewhat makes me jealous, before his conversion , we were the same, locked in your rooms not doing much, it honestly is a better life for him, and I'm happy,

It's possible to request a drone conversion, many have done it, Idk why I haven't done it yet, I guess I want to keep my peace for a little while, but ik at some point it will get too much to bear and then I will know I'm ready.

_________________

It was a normal day for me, watching my conversions , and contemplating life. When suddenly I hear the front door open, I rush out to see him, Jason standing in the door way, his heavy leather boots stomping on the floor as he closes the door. He looks at me, I haven't seen his have a week's.

JASON!?* ITS been so long, how.. have you been?*

He smiles and embraces me in a hug

*Iv been well, I missed you*

My face goes flush red, as I hug him back.

His latex skin is soft and shiny , the feel of hard muscles, it makes my heart race.

We pull away and I ask*

What are you doing here Jason?* Don't you have missions ?*

Jason laughs and says * well I do live here, plus even drones need rest.*

I answer back"

Well that makes sense , yeah*

Jason goes sit on the couch to watch TV.

*mind getting me a sparkling lemon water Aaron?.

Oh? Ok sure , I'll make us both one *

I go the kitchen, fill two cups with soda and prepare to cut lemons, during all this my mind races with thoughts, the sudden appearance of Jason and the feeling of his skin, it felt great. I feel hot, almost dreaming of it

As I'm cutting lemons the knife slips and cuts my hand, breaking me out of my dream like state

GAH*

Jason turns and runs up to me concerned

Are you ok?*

I'm fine just cut my self.

I go to clean up the blood and find a bandage, but problem, we where out of bandages

*darn we're out of bandaids.

Well I have a suggestion*

I turn around to see Jason's bear hand outstretched holding a latex glove.

You took it off? Isn't that yours?

Don't worry, I get a new one, my body can create it naturally.

I look at the glove as I hold it, it's soft,

The glove has a healing effect to it, it protects us drones from major injuries.

Huh, convenient , as I smile* thanks

I put the glove over my disinfected hand, I move my fingers about feeling it, it was soft, silky and comfortable.

So this is how it feels?* I say

Yeah, it's quite the sensation isn't it?,

Very much so, no wonder many ppl become drones.

Jason helps me finish the drinks and we go sit on the couch together.

Have you thought about dronehood much Aaron?

I turn to him and choke a little ,

Have I thought about it? It's ALL I can think about xd* I say with laughter, I observe it happen from my room, since your never hear.

And before you ask, no, I don't think I'm ready yet.

Jason looks into this drink and back up to me, he leans a hand over to touch my shoulder,

He smiles and says, * when you're ready then, no force, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible.

I peek up, *I KNEW IT, you planned this, laughing.

You were always a trickster you, we both laugh

Well Aaron , I. Do hope you enjoy that glove, it will help you decide, I'm sure of it.

I turn to look out the window and smiles

*thanks, i-, will definitely have an answer soon I'm sure.

___________

Afterwards we hang out the rest of day, it was a fun reunion, full of talk and catching up untill sun down

We both go to bed , crashing instantly as I'd been so tired after today.

The next day Jason and I bid farewell as he leaves for a mission.

I'm left alone and go to my room , sitting on my bedroom couch

_____

Hm, planed or not, I'm happy I have this glove. I turn on the TV to watch some more conversions

I feel hot and steamy imagining it, before I know it I'm rubbing my bulge with the gloved hand , my dick getting erect from what pleasure I can muster,

And idea popped into my head, I head over to Jason's room, and my mind was validated when I saw them, an extra pair of leather boots,

*planned this too Jason? Well idc, thanks*

We happen to be the same size, even so is force my feet into them, the boots go up to my kne, tall and shiny, sliding my feet in, my heart and mind are racing , my dick is rock hard , the sensations are over powering, I lace them up tight, whist I remove my clothing.

I stand up to look to the mirror, naked with only a latex glove and leather boots on, the weight of the boots and the tightness, protecting me, I go to my bed,I start to edge off slowly, aroused to high heavens and enjoying it all. Whilst the sounds of conversions from the TV hum in the background.

I never realized it but the dream like state I was in of edging and leaking lasted 3 days, I was covered in pre, drooling and gooing out, the latex glove and boots has started to spread up my legs and arm, then came Jason, he stood in my bedroom doorway, smiling, he comes over and jumps on top of me, squeezing my nipples hard

I moan hard and leak over me

*ready Aaron?*

Laughing through the intense pleasure ,

*hehe yeah. Convert me friend* I'm ready*

Jason's glowing purple eyes look into mine,

___________

Jason's hard latex dick at the ready, and with a passionate kiss it commences, what felt like a. Eternity, lasted a week of slow intense sex and conversion. As I expected it all

By the end of it, we and the bed were wet in pre, drool and juices, through the days, the latex nanites from Jason's dick slowly transformed my body, spreading the latex all over whist giving my muscle to fit, the climax of the conversion was then.

Jason fucking my tight ass, we both prepared for it , cum

It was a screech of intense pleasure, black nantite filled cum sprayed in ropes out our dicks, lasting 69 minutes of constant cumming, fucking and kissing, and the cum pool around us and soak back up into our bodies, , strengthening the conversion.

When it was all over , we lay there together tired and in love

My eyes start to glow to an intense blue. My mind was reshaped and ready,

Looking to Jason's eyes I say.

* I am ready to obey , ready to spread , ready to cum alongside you *

Jason smiles and kisses me, *ik.. drone 6923..*

My eyes flash, * yes... My new name.. thank you..

Drone 8696..*

___________

In the end we two drones, continued to make out intensely, passionately, never running out of cum

Untill the next mission is handed to us, and. I join Jason on my first crusade, We will enjoy each other forever.

______

: D

I enjoyed this one , genuinely think it's one of my best works yet

Hope you enjoy it, fellow drones

[angelcent]

ABOUT A GIRL・❥・S. GOJO

from an old ask: how do we feel about tattoist!gojo?! and your first tattoo being done by him. contains. tattoo artist gojo, tattoo virgin reader, grungepunk!gojo, fluff

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı — about a girl / nirvana

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is constantly recommended by people because he's known for several things: his pure attention to detail, his versatility in tattoo styles, how light his hand is, and how comfortable he makes his clients feel. he can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, though.

✧˚ · . unlike suguru who can be a bit pretentious and internally judgmental about his clients choices, tattoist!gojo really doesn't care as long as it's not something too offensive.

✧˚ · . his studio is decorated with an assortment of movie & concert prints, as well as pictures he's taken with suguru and shoko or their other friends. at the front desk is his ugly clay coffee mug that megumi made for him as a child that he now uses to store pens. it has a lot of personality and makes you feel at ease when you walk through the doors and fill out your paper work.

✧˚ · . when you first meet satoru, he doesn't take much notice of you because he doesn't want you to feel leered at; it's a common occurance for male tattooists to make others uncomfortable; and you're trusting him with such a vulnerable process, so satoru keeps his distance. keeps it professional.

✧˚ · . as it's your first time, he gives you a rundown of the entire process and is honest—blunt—about the pain you'll experience, but also reassures you that you'll be okay. "anyway, don't give that much though," he grins, absently twirling his pen. as if he hadn't just almost frightened you out of the door. "I'll take good care of you, hm? leave it to me." and he says it with such self assured confidence, that it completely eases your nerves.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo texts you a checklist in order to prepare for your appointment—what clothing is best, possible snacks to bring (water is provided), an on-call friend in case you want to be picked up, and oddly, what music you like?

✧˚ · . whatever is your music type is, you walk into his space on the day of your first session with it softly playing inside the shop. tattoist!gojo is talkative; walking you through his entire sanitation process and the tools he'll be using. unbeknownst to you, satoru is observant in his daily life and in his profession. he quickly caught the way your shoulders were drawn up with nerves, how you wiped the palm of your hand over your thigh. and the more you hear him talk, the more relaxed your body language becomes. it's why he does it.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo in an old washed out band shirt again. it's what he always wears, and most belong to suguru. his best friend has given up on his clothes being stolen after so many years.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo just as talkative when he's finally putting ink on your skin, and it surprisingly keeps your mind off the pain. sometimes you tune him out, but the rumble of his attractive voice keeps you grounded. satoru will talk about anything and everything. he tells you about his first tattoo—three eyes behind his ears on each side. six in total. and how he got them done at this small punk show when he was sixteen and egged on by his best friend.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo has ink all over his visible skin— arms, neck, you even catch a peek of more inked skin below the collar of his t-shirt when he leans down. what's cute is all the small doodles in the empty spaces between the bigger pieces, and he tells you how he did most of them himself whenever he's bored. some are done by friends, like a small happy face near his knuckle from haibara.

✧˚ · . as much as he tries to keep this professional though, satoru slowly becomes attracted to you over the course of your session. he rarely hits it off with someone so well, and he finds himself listening intently to every piece of information you give him about yourself.

✧˚ · . he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but you either call him out on it or bite back. he loves that.

✧˚ · . tattoist!gojo is great at calling to check up on your healing, giving you reminders on how to maintain it until the next session. he can't help but want to hear your voice, so he calls instead of texting or emailing like he usually does. you don't know any better, though. works in his favor.

✧˚ · . on your last session, tattoist!gojo is filled with the pride that never gets old at seeing the piece almost finished. what was once a mere idea is now brought to life and forever inked on your pretty skin. and you seem excited about it as well.

"see, not so bad now, was it?" he hums, wiping at the final touches. he doesn't bother to fight back the smirk. "told you I'm the best." "hm, you're alright. I guess." you tease, chuckling when he immediately looks up at you looking like a kicked puppy. "I'm kidding. thank you, satoru. really. I'm already thinking of what to get next, actually." if he were a dog, his ears would be perked up. tail wagging. he almost wants to barf.

"yeah? you sure you're not just saying that cause you'll miss seeing me?" he jokes, but deep down he's hoping you'll want him to remain as your future artist. even if that's the only way he'll keep seeing you, he'll take it. he's enjoyed far too much the way you make him feel wanted. "maybe I am." you murmur. swallowing your pride, you let the words spill out of your mouth. "but what if I wanted to see you sooner? you said I should go to your friends show this weekend. it'll be my first time, so it'd help to have you there." as soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're already regretting being so bold. satoru is just a friendly guy, he obviously just wanted his friend to get support and probably says that to everyone. so you backtrack immediately. "b-but if you can't or don't want to it's okay! sorry I just—" "'course I want to, buttercup. heh, I said I'll take good care of you, remember?" he laughs a little too loudly, quickly looking down at your finished piece. he wipes at the clean skin, pretending like he's working but he's just hiding his reddened cheeks. he hopes the crack in his voice was only audible to him. doesn't want you to see what a loser he is and how much you affect him.

[photmath]

It Was Never Us | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Summary: You had finally had enough.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: ANGST, ANGST, cursing, time jump, lots of dialogue

Note: I reluctantly apologize. I rushed to get this out in time before the semester started so if there are mistakes, I do apologize for that.

FOUR YEARS AGO

It has been three times now. Three times that Kylian had forgotten about your biweekly date night. Three times that you were left feeling like a complete failure. Three times you were left questioning yourself what you did wrong.

The first time he had forgotten about it, he made it up to you by taking you out the next day. The second time: he had made plans with Neymar that day, said that he got the days confused, you just said that it was fine. You weren’t in the mood to argue that day—especially because your team had a bad loss—a match he hadn’t even bothered to show up to, let alone text you ‘good luck’ or ‘sorry about the match.’

But today, today was different. It was the anniversary of your four-year relationship. He said he had the night handled a couple of weeks ago, and that all you had to do was ‘dress pretty.’ You weren’t able to double check with him because of his away match yesterday. He was flying in today and then was going to attend a rehab session to loosen his tight muscles.

He had promised he wouldn’t be back home late.

However, it had been almost four hours past the time he was supposed to come by and pick you up. So now, you are just fed up.

He hadn’t mentioned anything about the anniversary date or your plans. Let alone a text message saying ‘Happy Anniversary.’ You thought maybe he was planning an elaborate dinner, that that was the reason why you hadn’t been sent your favorite flowers or even a call.

Your phone dings again. A timer you had set for yourself to start winding down for the night because you had a big match tomorrow—Women’s Championship League—against Chelsea.

Standing in the kitchen in your heels, dress still on, you couldn’t take your eyes off your phone: a video of Kylian at a restaurant with Neymar and some of his other teammates. He wasn’t doing anything bad, but he was just there. Never did he mention to you that he was going out tonight. The video had been taken over an hour ago.

You don’t even feel angry. You feel embarrassed. Humiliated. But you don’t let those emotions consume you, instead you start packing a set of clothes in a large traveling purse you have. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, you couldn’t.

As you zip up your bag, satisfied with the items you packed, you go back to make you some type of dinner. You hear the front door unlock and you let out a breathy sigh to calm down your feelings as he walks in.

He glances at you, and then does a double take, his head tilting, “It’s a bit late to go out, ma chérie, don’t you think?”

You cross your arms in front of you, Kylian’s confused expression only growing. You give him a calm smile, “You tell me.”

“What do you mean?” He sets the training bag he took this morning on the dining room chair. He props his elbow against it.

“What’s today?”

His cheeks warm suddenly, his mind juggling through birthdays and anniversaries. He stills. His shoulders slack as he rubs his face, “Fuck, fuck, chérie, I’m so sorry—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m done, Kylian,” you say. Your voice is so eerily calm that it makes him worry.

He looks at you, his eyebrows raised, “What?”

“I’m done.”

“No, chérie,” he walks towards you in a couple of strides. His arms are reaching out for you but you swipe them away. Your heels clack against the marble tile as you walk past him. “Let me make it up to you.”

You let out a laugh, “I can’t believe I wasted this time with you.”

He’s shaking his head but you can’t see him frantically following your pace up the stairs, “Don’t say that, mon amour.”

“You haven’t remembered shit, Kylian!” you whip your head to face him. His face is only guilty and full of shame. “I can’t even remember the last time we cuddled, let alone held hands.”

You knew juggling between matches of you and him, time got stretched impossibly. But the times you were home, Kylian used to never take them for granted, neither did you. The both of you would cherish one another whenever in each other’s presence. Always communicating, loving one another, and supporting each other at games if time permitted.

But then the World Cup happened. You had the time to go to Russia and you and Kylian had the best time there despite you only being able to see him after his matches. His popularity and recognition skyrocketed. He was on everyone’s mind and you couldn’t be any more proud.

However, that was the turning point in your relationship. No longer were you guys able to go on weekly dates comfortably—not with Kylian’s new status. He would have to rent out restaurants or you two would get bombarded. It turned to every other week because it got exhausting trying to make time with him at a restaurant.

Kylian’s hands fumble on the rail, clutching onto them. His eyes tear away from yours and you scoff, continuing up the stairs. His steps heavy and fast, “Chérie, wait.”

“I waited for four hours, I’m done.” You grab your bag and sling it on your shoulder.

He gawks, “Done with what?”

You look up at him, “Done with this. With you and your unkept promises.”

His face falls again and he stops walking closer to you, scared that any move towards you will only push you away. He says, “No, can we just talk about this please?”

“Sure, Kylian, we can talk,” you indulge, your voice laced with sarcasm.

He frowns, his mouth opening but he says nothing. He scratches his neck, searching for words, “I—I’m sorry.”

Your hand teases off the engagement ring from your finger, setting it down on the dresser you and Kylian share. Kylian’s heart squeezes at the sight of you. He can’t stop himself from walking to you, “Wait, please.”

You stand there, eyeing him quietly. His eyes are darting back and forth between your bare finger and the ring. “Don’t do this. Not right now, you have a game tomorrow. What—what did I do wrong? I’ll fix it, chérie, I promise. I’ll fix it.”

His hands find yours and you let him. You had already made up your mind and you weren’t going to change it. You couldn’t keep doing this each time.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” you say and his eyebrows furrow. “You’re not the man who proposed to me on my first ever professional football field that I played on. You aren’t the person who used to rent out restaurants for me without hesitation if I said I was craving something.

“You kiss me when you come home but you don’t talk to me. You don’t ask how my day was or tell me yours. We don’t cuddle. You don’t even go to my games anymore so I’m surprised that you remembered tomorrows. And you’ve missed our date nights for the past months, and I’m so tired of it.

“I’ve done everything. I’ve gone to every game I could possibly make and cancel plans with my friends to make sure we have our date night. I’ve talked to you and told you if something is wrong, like how you have told me to do. We talk it out and we’re usually fine, but this—this has been going on for so long now, that it started off small and now it’s just grown.”

Your eyes search his and they’re stuck frozen staring at you, taking in your words. You pull your hands from his and he doesn’t fight them to break away.

You clear your throat, “I stopped complaining because I didn’t want to be that bitchy fiancé everyone complains about, but no, I will not settle with someone who is no longer the person I love. So I’m done. I’m not going to marry someone who forgets or gets too comfortable in their relationship that they stop entirely and can’t even realize it.”

He steps in front of you, halting your movements, his voice shaking “Give me one more chance and I swear it will be the last. I swear on everything.”

“You can’t keep promises.”

You move around him but he’s quick to step in front of you again. His hands desperately clutching for yours, “Wait—we’ve been busy these past few months, okay? I think we’ve both been exhausted—”

You shake your head, “Don’t say ‘we,’ Kylian. I have given you everything even when I was tired. That’s the difference between you and I.”

He nods quickly, “Okay, me! I have been exhausted lately that I just haven’t been thinking right. I haven’t loved you the way I should’ve. I haven’t given you the attention nor the time that you deserve. I did get comfortable, okay, yes, I admit to that and it’s my fault.”

You adjust the bag on your shoulders, “It is.” You move past him and walk down the stairs. “Even if you had texted me I probably would’ve let this slide, but to go out tonight, seriously?”

“I forgot,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you wish to hear something else—” the both of you stop in the kitchen. His breath hitches, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t keep our promises.”

You take in the view of his face. He’s completely deflated and you wish that brought you joy, but it doesn’t. You want to wrap him in your arms and put your ring back on, saying that you were overreacting but you don’t.

Just a few months ago the two of you were celebrating his twentieth birthday, and then a few months afterward he was proposing to you. The face he wore that day, so full of joy and excitement of what the future held. A stark contrast now.

He frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. A shaky sigh escapes his mouth, “I love you.”

You blink away the tears that threatened to pool, “I love you too, Kylian, that’s why I have to do this. I don’t want to hold myself back—I mean I have a fucking final to play tomorrow and here I am still awake. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I don’t deserve to be second in your life. I hope you find the person that you—”

He cuts you off, “Don’t say that.”

“I wish you all the best and success.”

He closes his eyes, nodding. Somehow him not looking made you walk out easier. And once you finally made it to the elevator, you leaned against the wall and bawled into your hands. Your sobs rattled the entire elevator.

------

PRESENT

“Holy shit,” Sergio mutters. Kylian’s eyebrows furrow next to him, Hakimi across from him leans into the iPad Sergio carries.

“On our PSG?” Hakimi asks.

“There’s only one féminine team,” Sergio replies.

“What’s up?” Kylian perks his head up.

“Y/N Y/L, she just got transferred here.”

Hakimi’s brows furrow, “Woah, her name sounds so familiar.” He flicks his fingers, “Agh! I know it, it’s right there.”

Kylian freezes, dropping the band he and Hakimi were using to stretch. It goes swinging to Hakimi and he winces as it makes contact with his chest.

“Really, Ky?”

Kylian ignores him, walking towards Sergio, examining the article.

The headline reads, “Star Defender is Coming Home!”

Sergio beams, “She’s really good. Marquinhos told me about her…”

He keeps talking but Kylian doesn’t register his words. He’s still fixated on the images of you, you wear a happy smile in your FC Barcelona uniform in one of them, and then in the other you hold a PSG jersey up. You had just been on a stellar season, he knew, of course he had known.

He kept up with all of your games since the two of you had broken up. He had tried to follow you on social media, but watching you play and seeing you up close on his phone, he couldn’t stomach both. He was so glad to see you doing well on Barca that he couldn’t comprehend why you would want to leave them.

Sergio furrows, thinking the same thing, “I wonder why she’s leaving.”

Hakimi shrugs, “I guess we’ll have to just ask her when we see her tonight.”

“Tonight?” Kylian croaks.

He nods, “The exhibition match tonight against the women’s team.”

Kylian eyebrows raise, “That’s today?”

“We were just talking about it,” Sergio says. “How did you forget?”

Kylian, still in shock, “No, I know it’s today. I just…I don’t think she’ll be playing tonight.”

Hakimi chimes, “Maybe she’ll just watch, but no she’s definitely here.”

“How do you know?”

Hakimi and Sergio both furrow their brows at their teammate. His sudden different behavior was not going unnoticed. Sergio lets out a nervous chuckle, “This picture is from today, Kyks. Are you okay?”

Kylian scoffs and then lets out a restrained chuckle, “Of course.”

Sergio nods at him hesitantly and then scrolls down to read the article. Kylian watches as his eyebrows furrow and his heart screeches as Sergio reads it aloud, “‘She’s expected to play in tonight’s exhibition match, and it will definitely be a sight to see her and Kylian Mbappé on the same field. Just four years ago, the two of them were expecting to tie the knot, but suddenly called it off, breaking the hearts of many of their fans…’”

Heat pools around Kylian as both of them look at him. He fixates his eyes with one of the medicine balls that lay some feet in front of him, not daring to look at the two of them.

Hakimi nudges him, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

Kylian coughs, “We didn’t work out.”

“You fucked it up?” Sergio asks. His voice is blunt.

Hakimi speaks again, “So you were just never going to say that you had a whole fiancé at one point?”

Kylian sighs, “Yeah, I fucked it up, and it’s not something I’m proud of, Achraf, why would I tell you that?”

He shrugs, “I mean, I could’ve helped you or something.”

“It was four years ago, we didn’t know each other by then. Can you guys please just not say anything? We don’t talk about this anymore,” Kylian’s voice is firm.

Sergio and Hakimi glance at each other, their faces betraying Kylian. Kylian lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

Hakimi talks first, “How long were you guys together?”

Sergio then: “This is an engagement though, how could you have stayed quiet this whole time—”

Kylian rolls his eyes, “It was an engagement. Not anymore—”

“Did you cheat?” Sergio asks.

He groans loudly, “God, no. How could you say that?”

Sergio shrugs, “I mean four years ago was what…2019? You had to still be clouded from the World Cup.”

“I didn’t cheat on her, okay?” Kylian knows he can’t walk out of the session no matter how badly he wants to, so he rubs his face and plops down on the floor, stretching out his hamstrings. Luckily, the three of them were a bit far from the rest of his teammates, so they couldn’t hear much of their discussion.

Hakimi nods his head, “So you did something worse?”

“Like stopped showing up?” Sergio guesses.

Kylian suddenly hates himself for befriending two people who are already married—and Sergio was years into his happy marriage.

“Or, forgot something?” Sergio guesses again.

Hakimi groans, “Never forget a birthday.”

“Or an anniversary. I have my phone set to remind me months before.”

Hakimi laughs, “That’s smart. Kylian?”

He sighs, “I forgot our date nights…and our anniversary. And stopped showing her affection.”

Both of them quiet down. Kylian had yet to cool himself from the prior nerves he got from when Sergio first said your name, and their laughter-turned-to-silence wasn’t helping.

Sergio furrows, “You just threw her to the curb?”

Kylian looks at him, angry with his choice of words. He then looks at Hakimi and Hakimi looks disappointed. His face reminds Kylian of how someone feels when their younger sibling’s hearts have just been broken. Full of protection for someone he had never met.

“I didn’t mean to, but yeah, our lives got hectic months after the World Cup…that I just lost it. I couldn’t manage my time, everything was moving so fast. Dates were coming up before I even realized it, and then she was gone.”

The two of them are quiet again, Hakimi definitely couldn’t relate and Sergio was searching for some good advice.

Sergio coughs, engulfing the silence, “You were just a kid at that time, Kylian. Your recognition exploded and you didn’t know how to manage it. I wouldn’t place all the blame on your shoulders if I were you.”

Kylian shakes his head, “It was my fault though.”

“And the worlds,” Hakimi states.

“You young guys don’t know how to handle it until it happens,” Sergio advises. “You guys will think you do, but you don’t. Everything moves fast after you blow up, but you can never forget about the people who stayed by your side.”

Kylian nods absentmindedly. The advice would’ve been helpful four years ago, but he listens either way.

“Head up, you have a girl to catch,” Sergio says, getting up and patting Kylian’s head as he passes him.

------

Kylian wishes Sergio’s words didn’t give him a surge of encouragement because here he was rehearsing the speech he was going to tell you once he got the time. He cringed as he thought of it. What was he even supposed to say?

Warm-ups had gone swiftly. He had seen you warming up from afar and the glimpse of it alone had his heart faltering between beats.

He knew that you would probably have to defend him, so it made him nervous thinking about you so close to him. The closest the two of you had ever been in four years.

The sound of the whistle was the only thing that got him out of his mind. He had a performance to put on. One that he knew would be cut short by half-time to let the youngsters play, so he had to give it his all since the stadium was sold out.

He tried to keep his gaze off of you, knowing that he would probably freeze and choke up the moment you looked at him.

Seeing Hakimi get the ball back, he knew it was time to start sprinting. He sprints around you, nearly tripping on his feet as the smell of your shampoo swarms his nose. It was still the same smell.

He hadn’t realized you were so close to him. He sprints down the line, and you’re following him.

You couldn’t lie and say that you wanted to throw up, seeing him now brought back all the memories of the two of you. And the funny part was that only the happy memories were the ones you remembered and thought of the most. You didn’t think of the bad parts—not that fast at least—until you had to remind yourself why the two of you didn’t work out.

He gets the ball passed to him, but he has to go through you first to get in a cross. He can’t help but to smirk, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth before he can even comprehend that you stole the ball away from him. You kick it to your teammate, slowing down to a jog. You feel him jog beside you.

“Good ball,” he says, jogging past you. His voice sends you chills. He turns around to face you and a ghost of a smile litters his face.

The game goes on. You and Kylian interact only briefly. When he sprints past you and you know there is no way to catch up to his speed, you let out a groan. He’s chuckling as runs past you and you have to fight back a grin.

The halftime whistle blows and you walk to the locker room, a smile finding your face as you clap hands with your new and some familiar teammates.

You find your way to the restroom, having already heard your coach’s words and line up changes. The restroom in the locker room was crowded so you decided to go to the one down the tunnel.

“Hey,” a voice calls out and you freeze. Of course he was waiting for you. You turn around slowly, Kylian already wearing his wind breaker as he gives you a nervous smile, “Are you playing the second half?”

You shake your head, still shocked at how much he’s grown and his presence. “No.”

Kylian motions his head to an elevator, “Want to come up with me?”

“I should probably tell my coach.”

He waves it off, “I already told him.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“Let's go upstairs to the media box, I want to talk.”

You almost want to laugh at his bluntness. Your eyebrows are raised, “Kylian.”

He walks towards you, his walk full of confidence as a smile tugs on his lips, “What?”

“I don’t think that’s a good look from me to my teammates.”

“They think you’re with Sergio Ramos right now talking about defense strategies,” he laughs. The sound of his glorious laugh and the crinkles besides his eyes almost make you want to hug him. Almost. After all, this was still the man of your first everything since you were sixteen.

“He’s in this too?” You ask.

He nods, “Just come on.” He presses the button for the elevator, holding the door open as it opens immediately. He holds out his hand for you with a growing smirk.

God, did he look so handsome. That glint in his eye used to make you so weak in your knees and it wasn’t failing now.

You grab his hand and the touch makes your nerves radiate throughout your arm and hand. You silently hiss and his eyebrows twitch but then it goes away. He had felt it too.

The elevator closes and he grins, “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” you say, stuffing your hands into your windbreaker. You were suddenly glad that you decided to change completely because Kylian still had on his grass stained shorts and socks. You stifle a chuckle.

“It was fun beating you,” he snickers. He settles into the corner of the elevator and doesn’t hide his eyes as they skim down you. “Although you did play well, we may need you on our line actually.”

You laugh, “Oh, shut up.”

He hums, “Music to my ears.”

You roll your eyes. Both of you completely ignored the elephant in the room and you were glad. It was nice to see him again. The person you were talking to was who he was before the World Cup. Before he got too in his head. It makes your heart swell to see him happy again.

The elevator door dings open and he leads you to whatever room he was planning. It’s small with a single table and chair. The walls are painted blue and one of them is a whiteboard. A large window shows the view of the field below.

“What is this place?” you snort.

He laughs, “A small media room. Sometimes they do interviews in this room, but new coaches, never the players.”

“And that’s it?”

He smirks as the two of you make eye contact, “Sometimes a hideout the guys and I go to when we get sent off.”

“Like a red card?”

He nods, “Yep.”

You shake your head, chuckling. He pulls out the seat and motions you to take it. After you sit, he sits on the table, his legs dangling as he looks at the field. He’s sitting across from you on the table and has his back to you. The players were starting to make their way back onto the field.

“I promised—well Sergio—promised to have you back down there within twenty minutes,” he says, his eyes still glued onto the window. “I—” He lets out a shaky laugh and it makes you laugh at his nervousness. “They’re upset with me.”

“Who?”

“Sergio and Achraf.”

“Achraf?”

He glances back at you, “Number 2 on the field. Hakimi.”

“Oh, yes, okay I know him. Why are they upset with you?” your eyebrows furrow.

He rubs his neck, “I told them what happened between us.”

You nod your head slowly although he can’t see you. Well, might as well rip off the bandaid now. Time was ticking.

He looks down in his lap, “I’m sorry, chérie. I didn’t really mean to tell them, but they read an article and it said that we were in a relationship. They started asking a bunch of questions.”

“Wait, there's an article?” You’re already on your feet as you round the table. You don’t even have your phone on you to search for it.

He shakes his head, “It’s not bad.”

“You read it?”

He nods and stands up. He grabs a hold of your waving arms, settling them, “It’s not bad. It was talking about your accomplishments and then only mentioned me at the end. Said that it was going to be a ‘sight to see’ us on the field together after we called off our engagement four years ago.”

“It mentioned that?” You didn’t want the media’s attention to be on your previous relationship, it should be on a team.

He nods, his hands still on your wrists, rubbing circles onto them. “It was brief. Not a lot about you and I.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Where were you?”

He gives you a faint smile, his hands lingers on yours as he takes a seat on the table right beside you. He lets go of your hands, “Why did you come back?”

You sigh and rub your palms on your sweats. He wasn’t going to like the news. The media hadn’t even caught wind of it yet. “I’m getting married.”

Kylian can’t help the reaction he lets out. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. His eyes are on you and you watch as they go from shock to hurt. He looks away immediately, his head looking down as he covers his mouth.

“He wanted to move here, got a job, and then hoped I would follow him.”

Kylian looks up, his eyebrows creased, “You wouldn’t do that though. You would never give up your dreams. Tell me that’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“For a guy?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. It was a bit out of character. “I’m back here because PSG needed a defender.”

He stands up, his head shaking, “Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

Kylian stands only a foot in front of you, he has to look down at you to talk. His voice is serious, “So what happened to your dream?”

“It was to win the Champions League with PSG. I never got to do it,” you say.

Both of you silently think about that night of your break up. The next day, your team had played horribly against Chelsea, losing 3-0. You wish you could say you played well but you hadn’t at all. Kylian had come to that game, watching in the same room you both stood in now.

He sighs, “You won one with Barca.”

“That wasn’t my dream though.”

“I know,” he gives you a meek smile. “I just—there has to be more to the story, chérie, I mean help me understand.”

You palm your forehead, you should’ve known he was going to want to talk about what you were doing here back. You had left that season to Barcelona after the Champions League, wanting to get out of the city you grew up in. But also wanting to get away from him.

“Is that all you brought me up here for?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “I wanted to see how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been good, Kylian. How have you been?”

“Miserable,” he mutters. “Even more now.”

“Mmm, I’m sorry about the World Cup.”

He waves you off, “I was miserable before that.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost you,” he agonizes and you stop yourself from expressing your annoyance.

“Kylian—”

“Does he make you happy?” His arms flop down next to him as he awaits your response.

You muse, “Yes.”

“Everything you wished I gave you?”

You bite onto your lip. Kylian was one of a kind when the two of you first started dating, almost nothing could ever top his morning cuddles and kisses he would give you. He always knew which muscles to massage before your training sessions. Or how you liked your coffee. Or how you would always like to run yourself a bath after strenuous workout sessions. He’d have the water ready for you when you’d get a home.

“Chérie?” He raises his brow. His hand goes to your cheek and he brushes the delicate skin. The both of you almost melting at the contact. You lean into his touch instantly.

“He’s a gentleman.”

“That wasn’t my question,” he whispers. “Why are you here, mon amour?”

You feel him brush away the tear before you even notice it’s there. You open your eyes and his eyes flutter with concern. You step back, wiping away your tears, “I should head back.”

His arms are around you before you can stop and you break down into him. Your head digs into Kylian’s strong shoulder as you sob into him. He still smelled of sweat and outside, but you didn’t care, all you felt was him. He kisses your head as his embrace tightens, pulling you closer to him.

This felt like home. His scent. His arms. The feeling he brought to your chest, you hadn’t felt this way in four years.

He holds you for a couple of more minutes until your crying dies down. He kisses your forehead when he peels you away, “Tell me. I’m not going to judge. I can take the criticism.”

“He wants to have kids,” you frown.

Kylian sneers, “What a jerk.”

You laugh through the tears and he gives you a small smile. You cross your arms, wanting Kylian’s warmth back. “I don’t even want to have kids right now. I’m playing so well and then I’d have to stop. I’m too young.”

He chuckles. He knew he shouldn’t have found this situation comical but it was. You had told him before how you would only want a kid now—when you were both young—or when you were both older, that there was going to be no in between. So he knew you weren’t going to give this man children until years later. This makes the ache in his heart ease, knowing that he would never treat you this way.

“I’m being serious, Ky,” you groan. “I’ve told him all this already and it’s like he doesn’t care. He can’t even see me halfway.”

“You’ve called off one engagement before, why not go for a second?” He teases. He says it so nonchalantly that you jab at his shoulder.

“Stop it.”

“Okay, okay,” he swipes the smile off of his face. “So you’re here because he wants kids?”

“He wants to settle down, and said that he always wanted to live in Paris.”

“Is he famous?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to do that again.”

He clutches his heart, “Ouch.” You don’t respond and he takes a seat back on the table. He folds his arms, looking up at you, “You told me that you didn’t want to be held back. Isn’t that what’s happening now?”

“How am I being held back?”

He shrugs, “You want a Champions with PSG. Not kids.”

“We can have kids in the future.”

“He wants them now.”

“Well,” you sigh, “it’s still an ongoing discussion.”

He huffs.

You keep going: “I missed Paris. I wanted to be back here with my family. My parents and siblings are getting older. I have a niece who I only see on the holidays and I feel like I’ve missed out on her entire life. I practically have!”

He nods his head slowly, but you can see the way the glimmer in his eyes diminish. He was upset. He exhales, “So it’s just a sudden win-win scenario for you? That it’s easy? Two birds in one stone?”

“What do you mean?”

He stands, he looks disappointed. “You come back here to get married. Maybe win a Champions League. You have your family around you. And then you settle down with this man and have kids.”

You didn’t understand the problem. That was exactly what you had planned. You didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“Kylian, it's been in the news about me possibly transferring for months now. He read about it in an article, and then brought the idea up to me, and then I told him that yeah, I’d think about it. Then the next day, he gets a job here and then I suddenly have to think between two decisions.”

He raises his arm to stop you and you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t bat an eye. “You gave up your life in Barcelona to follow him. Not for you. For him. You would’ve never thought about moving back here if it wasn’t for him.”

“That’s not true,” you cross your arms. “I wanted to move back here.”

He shakes his head, “Maybe you did, but it wasn’t for your family.”

“How could you say something like that?”

“I know you, chérie. Your ambition is too high to ever stop to follow someone. Your family has never held you back, no matter how much they have tried to persuade you. Hell, even I tried to persuade you before. When you have your mind set to something, it’s set. Your niece was born four years ago, a little after we broke up, and what? You barely miss them now?”

You scoff. Kylian’s words were harsh. A brutal blow to you and your return.

He’s shaking his head again, “This man took a job without even asking you! And you were fine with that? He’s never even lived in Paris.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” he scowls. “How is this any different than when you would wait for me to change? Instead, it’s as if I had never changed and you just dealt with it. Are you kidding me? You would have never put up with that—and you didn’t.”

“He can actually keep his promises, Kylian. He remembers anniversaries at the very least. That’s already more than what you did.”

A ripple of a sarcastic laugh escapes him, “Our anniversary would be next week, and when I proposed to you, that’s in three months and two days from now.”

“You remembered that a bit too late.”

He sighs, his hands settling on the top of his head, “I just—you’re making a mistake with this man. He wants a kid, chérie, he wants you to stop playing. He’s already got a new job that I assume pays better than his last. He wants you to be a mom.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Your irritation and annoyance only grows into silent anger. “If you think your words are going to somehow make me leave him and go back to you, you’re dead wrong.”

Kylian’s gaze moves to the pitch. It was at the 60th minute. His rehearsed speech was long gone and time was dwindling down. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about what to say next. He didn’t like the idea of you coming back home under these circumstances.

You wipe your face, “And what does it matter to you anyway? You and I aren’t in a relationship, Kylian. I don’t owe you anything.”

He looks at you, “He doesn’t make you happy. I know it because you were happy with me, before I fucked it up. You don’t look like that right now. You don’t have that glow.”

You snort, “And you’re supposed to bring that all back?”

“I can if you let me.”

“Hilarious. I’m done here.”

He steps forwards to you, a hand settling on your waist and you don’t move, frozen by his sudden touch. His eyes glance down to your lips and then back towards yours, “Just think about why you came here. You know the real reason only. The reason you gave me was full of shit. You and I both know it. I know you want to win the Champions League with PSG, but the only reason you were transferred is because you asked for it. Barca would have never let you go just because.”

He stops, his gaze growing more firm, “And say that yes, you wanted this dream to come true because it happened in Barcelona. I get that. I know that. But what happens when you win it? When you retire and realize that you don’t actually love this man the way you think you do?”

“I lo—”

He shakes his head, “No you don’t. You’re waiting. You’re hoping that something changes. That your feelings towards him change. I know that because you have that look. That same look when you were waiting for me to change. Waiting for me to snap out of it and realize that I had fucked everything up.”

He eyes the clock on the field: 64. He was out of time. Fuck.

You stare at him, lost in his words. This was what he wanted. For you to doubt yourself.

His hand presses against your cheek and then he drops it, “I’m not like the person I used to be. I do remember things now. I don’t ever forget because of what happened between us.”

He lets out a small chuckle, “I definitely won’t pester you to have my kids right now. I won’t compromise on your dreams. I won’t ever make you doubt my intentions. I promise to never make you feel this way, or the way you felt when you left. I’d never tell you to stop chasing your ambition, even if it takes years that we never have kids. Because let's face it, PSG has some growth to do.”

He gives you a meek smile, “My heart was only ever yours to have. And I'd love it if you met me at my penthouse, but only come when you’ve broken up with this jerk. You can come whenever you want, your dresser and empty space in the closet waits for you.”

Kylian takes your face into your hands and presses a chaste kiss on your cheek, lingering his face in front of yours as he pulls away. Both of your breaths are faltering and heavy.

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers. He releases you and leaves the media room.

You’re left alone with his looming words replaying in your mind. You had a life-altering decision to make. Especially because he read you well. Read right through your lies.

--

(Part Two)

[iliketangerines]

Hi I hope you’re doing well 🫂✨I love your writing and this is my first time requesting 🫣🥰

Would you mind writing mk1 Shang Tsung smut 😭😭😭 he’s soooo deviously fine in this game 🥺🫶🏽

stars in your eyes

a/n: this is not an odd request at all cutie. in fact, i love it dear god. why can't three burly angsty men destroy me in real life.

pairing: director!shang tsung x sub!afab!reader x dom!havik x dom!quan chi

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy slapping, clit slapping, overstimulation, pussy eating, creampies, slight breeding kink, praise kink, degradation kink, blowjobs, hand jobs

Shang Tsung had traveled to a club and found you there, fresh-faced, nervous, but oh so pretty and submissive

you had given him a lap-dance, pretty eyes blinking up at him, pretty red lips begging to be bitten, and body looking perfect to be ruined by him

he slipped his business card in along with a few hundred in cash and waited for a phone call from you

it had taken almost a week of waiting, your body haunting his thoughts as he kept on checking his phone, but you finally called

you talked in a timid and sweet voice, and Shang Tsung wanted to hear you moan, to have your voice ruined by sucking on his cock

he tells you to come in for an audition the next day and that he’ll provide costumes for you

you agree and thank him for the opportunity, adding on an innocent sir at the end of the thanks before ending the phone call

Shang Tsung can’t help himself and pulls his cock out and imagines your lips wrapped around his dick, lipstick smeared and mascara running down your cheeks

you arrive the next day a few minutes early, and Shang Tsung observes how nervous you seem, how your make-up is applied, how you squirm in his seat as he leans in a bit closer to you

he brings you to a back room, black leather couch sitting in the back with a nice rug sitting in front of it, and Shang Tsung sits in the middle and tells you to change in the room next door and impress him

he already knows he’s going to hire you, but he wants to have a taste right now

you bite your lip and nod, going to the next room over, and Shang Tsung bounces his knee impatiently as you change into the costume he’s chosen for you

you come back into the room, face warm and eyes downcast as you tug at the harness, and Shang smirks at the sight of you

you’re dressed in a lingerie set that does nothing hide your chest or your pussy from prying eyes, and a garter belts squeeze your thighs and cause a bit of fat to pudge out

Shang Tsung has never been so hard

what really sells the vision is the collar around your neck, and he imagines it’s his collar, claiming you as his, but he shakes off the thought and beckons you to come close

you teeter a bit awkwardly in front of him, unused to his stilettos you’re wearing, but you make it in front of him and kneel in front of his spread legs obediently

he pets your hair, purring out a praise, and you face warms at the words

he leans back and tells you to pleasure him, and you bring your hands forward, unzipping his pants and pull his underwear down far enough to take his cock out through the hole

you stroke his dick, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft and take the tip into your mouth, pressing your tongue into the slit and suckling on his dick

he groans and resists the urge to grab your hair and fuck your face until you’re crying

you bob your head up and down, taking him further and further into your mouth until your nose is buried in his clothed pelvis

you hum around his dick, tongue pressing into a vein on the underside of his cock, and Shang Tsung clenches his fist to stop himself from cumming too quickly

you bob your head up and down the full length of his cock, tongue pressing and prodding against him for a few more minutes, and Shang Tsung sees stars as he finally cums into your mouth

you whine and eagerly swallow his cum, and when you come off his mouth, you stick your tongue out to show you’ve swallowed it all

Shang Tsung pets the side of your face and tells you that you deserve a reward

he helps you up on shaky legs, and he doesn’t miss the way that your wetness coats the inside of your thighs

he brings you to another room and has you sign all the papers and everything else, and he enjoys watching you squirm in your seat as you try to rub your thighs together for some friction

he sends you off and tells you the date of your first film and who else will be performing with you

you come a few minutes early to the filming day just as before, and he tells you to dress up in a costume once again, and he’ll be waiting for you in the filming room

when you knock on the door and enter, Shang Tsung knows you’re going to be a hit

that sweet expression mixed with the tight white dress and fake angel wings and halo above you really do sell you as an innocent little toy for him

two of his other actors are waiting for you in the room already, dressed with fake devil wings and horns

none of the cameras are rolling yet, but he wishes they were to catch the expression of your face as Quan Chi and Havik stand up and tower over you

they bring you over with gentle hands to the center of the room, a somewhat elaborate stage of hell, and Shang Tsung starts the cameras

there’s a bit of the introductory dialogue, but soon enough, Quan Chi picks you up, arms hooked over your legs to spread you wide apart

your dress rides up to expose your pretty pussy to the camera and Havik laughs, calling you a naughty angel for not wearing any panties

you try to deny it, but the protest turns into a yelp as Havik slaps your pussy and watches as you clench around nothing

he laughs in that deep voice, saying that naughty angels must be punished before landing a series of slaps on your pussy and pinching at your clit

make-up streams down your cheeks as you cry and sob, trying to jerk away from the contact, but Quan Chi keeps you still in his arms

Havik laughs at your pathetic mewls but finally stops abusing your drooling pussy and presses a sweet kiss onto your clit

you whine and whimper as Havik laps at your clit, using his fingers to spread your folds and dig his tongue deeper into your pussy

Quan Chi readjusts his arms, his hands digging into your thighs and leaving bruises on your soft skin, and your hips buck forward into Havik’s mouth

the man brings his fingers up, shoving them into your pussy and curling them to find that sweet spot inside of you, and he hums around your clit

you arch your back off of Quan Chi, and he chuckles as Havik starts to abuse that spot within you

Shang Tsung can see the way your wetness drips down onto the floor, and he pulls out his own aching cock and lightly strokes himself to ease some of the tension

as you throw your head back into Quan Chi’s chest, cumming on Havik’s fingers, you grow limp in his arms, eyes glassy and make-up ruined by your tears

Quan Chin puts you down on shaky legs and disappears off the camera to go and grab something, and Havik grabs onto your cheek and kisses you roughly, shoving his tongue down your throat

you whine and melt into the touch despite the roughness, and Quan Chi returns with a dildo, one that resembles a tentacle

he tells you to be a good angel and arch, and you do so without a single complaint, still occupied with the feeling of Havik roughly kissing you

Quan Chi slides the tentacle between your soaked folds, and you jump slightly at the cold silicon touching you

the man slowly slides the dildo into you, and you moan into Havik’s mouth, slightly squirming at the texture

Quan Chi swats your ass and tells you to stay still for him as he roughly fucks you on the dildo, and you moan into Havik’s mouth

the man moves down to kiss your neck, sucking hickeys into your neck, and Quan Chi continues to fuck you on the dildo, telling you you’re such a naughty angel for enjoying being fucked by two demons

you whine into the air and ask them to cum, pretty please, tears are gathering on the tips of your eyelashes

Quan Chi has a cruel smirk and says no, stuffing the dildo back into your abused cunt before forcing you on your knees

both Havik and Quan Chi take out their dicks, and Quan Chi tells you to work for your orgasm, and you whimper but put Havik’s dick into your mouth and Quan Chi’s cock into your hand

you stroke Quan Chi, flicking your wrist and pressing the pad of your thumb into the slit of his cock, and he groans at your ministrations and tells you to keep going

Havik has grabbed onto your face, fucking into your throat with reckless abandon as he tells you what a whore you are for enjoying this

your hips twitch as you try to bounce on the dildo, but with the way Havik’s holding you and Quan Chi is next to you, you can only clench your pussy around the thick tentacle

Havik pulls you off of his dick, patting the side of your face harshly with his palm as he makes fun of how whorish you look, that you’re such a cock slut

you agree dumbly, and Quan Chi grabs onto your chin and forces his cock down your throat, grabbing onto your hair and dragging you up and down on his cock

Shang Tsung can see the way Quan Chi’s throat bulges in your throat, and he wishes that were him

but all in due time

you bring your hand up to stroke Havik, but your strokes are shaky and uncoordinated as you lose air from Quan Chi thrusting into your throat

finally, he pulls out of your mouth, and Havik and Quan Chi stroke themselves, and you stick out you tongue and let them shoot their cum all over your face

you swallow what lands on your tongue, and they drag you up, Quan Chi bringing you in for a rough kiss as he gropes your ass, and Havik takes out the tentacle, a loud squelching sound filling the air

Shang Tsung stands up and exits the room, putting on his own costume, just a pair of horns and wings bigger than Havik’s and Quan Chi’s and walks back into the room

he walks in on them with Quan Chi sucking another hickey into your neck and Havik squeezing and slapping your red ass

Shang Tsung checks that the cameras are rolling before stepping onto the stage

immediately, they stop what they’re doing and pull you so that you stand between them

your wetness drips down your legs, and your wings and halo are slightly askew, but it just enhances your ruined image

Shang Tsung approaches you and tsks, putting his thumb into your mouth, and you automatically suck on it

you’re completely fucked-out, willing to do anything Shang Tsung says, and he smiles internally at the thought of that

he mocks your expression, saying that an angel should’ve look so debauched, and you can only moan around his thumb at the words

he continues on, saying maybe he’ll keep you as his own little pet, for him to use and fuck and breed when he wants to

he signals the other two to let go of you and for Quan Chi to stop rolling the cameras to move another prop on set

Quan Chi does so, and he and Havik start moving a bed onto set

but you’re still a drooling mess in Shang Tsung’s arm, sucking on Shang Tsung’s thumb and clinging onto him like a lifeline

Shang Tsung smiles and brings you to the bed and tells Quan Chi to start filming again

once he hears the camera click, he removes his thumb from your mouth and trails kisses down your neck, your stomach, until he reaches your cunt

he spreads them with his wide shoulders and forces you to keep them apart as you hiccup and sniffle as you try to grab for Shang Tsung

he tuts and tells you to be a good angel and keep your hands to yourself, and you immediately put your hands on the sheets

Shang Tsung can see how your pussy drools for him, clenching around nothing, and how it’s still swollen from the way Havik slapped it earlier

but you look so pretty like this, clit swollen and pussy sore, and Shang Tsung files away the thought of hitting your sensitive clit with a riding crop

Shang Tsung buried his nose into your clit, grinding into the overstimulated nub, and laps at your pussy with his tongue

you whine and arch off the bed but dutifully keep your hands on the bed as Shang Tsung hums into your abused cunt

he fucks you on his tongue, relishing in your needy moans and pathetic mewling, and he quickly brings you to an orgasm

as your chest heaves up and down, he climbs up and slides his dick between your folds before sliding into you

you’re still wet and tight around him despite the dildo inside of you earlier, and he groans at the feeling of you clenching down on him

he sets a brutal pace, hips slamming down onto yours and slapping against your clit, and he tells you that you can move your hands

immediately, your hands claw at his back, and he purrs about how much of a slut you look like right now and asking what the other angels would think if they saw you like this

you can’t respond, just blabbering out nonsense, and Shang Tsung slows down his pace and tells you to answer like a good whore

you babble out that they’d think you’re just a cumslut, a dump for demons to breed you with their seed, that they’d think you’re a dirty angel who can only suck dick

Shang Tsung smiles and calls you a good angel before continuing with his ruthless pace

as he continues to fuck you, tears stream down your cheeks, and he has to resist the urge to kiss them away

instead, he bites your neck, and you keen, your pussy spasming around his dick

you squirt all over his torso, and Shang Tsung’s eyes sparkle as he realizes that you’re a squirter

squirters always raked in more cash

he fucks you through your orgasm, and you can only let continue fucking into you, chasing his own release despite the sparks of pain mixing with the pleasure now

Shang Tsung’s hips stutters, and he buries himself deep inside of you and spills his cum deep inside of you

he lazily thrusts in and out of you as he cums, and pulls out when he can feel his dick softening

he looks down at the mixture of your cum and his cum mixing, and he shoves it back in with his fingers, commenting that you’re going to be a wonderful breeding bitch

Quan Chi cuts the cameras, and Havik immediately rushes over with some damp towels and water for Shang Tsung and you

the director helps you sit up, but there’s still a far away look in your eyes

he helps you drink some water and eat a small bite of a granola bar, but your eyes are still slightly watery and glossy

Shang Tsung frowns and gets up to go and check something, but you grip onto his hand and ask him in a quiet voice to not leave, small tears dripping down your cheeks and a slight sniffle escaping from you

he sends a concerned glance over to Quan Chi and Havik, who tell him to take care of you and that they’ll clean up, and he picks you up and brings you to his office

he lays you down on the couch and cuddles up next to you, and you let out a dopey smile and snuggle into his chest

you fall asleep soon after, and Shang Tsung realizes that you need a lot more comfort right now than he was providing

and then he smiles at how compliant and submissive you are, how compliant and submissive you can be, how he could get you to do anything in this state

the film releases soon after, and Shang Tsung watches as the numbers rise

he pets your head as he sits at his desk, and you whine, your cock in his mouth as he has you cockwarm him

he’s going to have so much fun breaking you in