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#like ever since meeting him I have barely thought about K
esoteric-altruism · 1 year
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After a whole year of crying and carrying on about my ex, I finally meet a nice guy who I like a lot and honestly I feel like I’m dreaming a lil bit
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latin5mamii · 24 days
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Pretending - Jude Bellingham
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Warnings: none, maybe a bit smut (?)
Summary: Why moving on needs to be so hard?
Author's note: i don't know about this...let me know if you like it! masterlist
Genre: reader x Ex!JudeBellingham (wordcount: 1425)
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I could hardly believe my eyes.
Just when I thought I’d moved on, ready to start a new chapter and forget about him, there he was, looking like an angel descended to earth, a living Michelangelo masterpiece.
Was it the alcohol, or had he always been like this?
The sad truth was that I missed him more than I was willing to admit, and deep down, I hoped he missed me too.
When his eyes met mine, panic surged through me. I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn’t noticed him, as if that could somehow shield me from the storm of emotions brewing inside. I was terrified to face him, to meet his gaze, to exchange even a simple hello.
If I had truly moved on, I wouldn’t be feeling this way. No nervous fluttering in my stomach, no racing thoughts. But let’s be honest, this wasn’t just anyone. This was Jude Bellingham.
I could pretend I only noticed some of his teammates, but that would be a lie. He was surrounded by girls, their eager eyes betraying their desperation. Not that he paid them much attention, but they were ready to do anything to get close to him.
Before I met him, I had never been a jealous person, but what I loved most about him was his loyalty. Now, even though our relationship was over and I should have moved on, a pang hit my heart.
I had sworn to my friends that I wouldn’t fall for him again, no matter what. At the time, it seemed easy enough. I was confident, even defiant. But then I saw him, and all the walls I’d built crumbled in an instant. The progress I’d made was undone with a single glance.
“Show that you’ve moved on, you’re a fuckin’ independent girl.”
“He’s such a loser thinking he can get you back.”
What they didn’t know was that if I could, I would have jumped into his arms the moment I walked into the place. But I couldn’t. Maybe because my ego is as high as a mountain, and I’ve always followed this fundamental rule: Don’t go back to your exes.
Little did I know that soon this rule was going to be forgotten.
With my back still turned to him, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Before turning around, I tried to imagine who it could be. I hoped with all my heart that it was him, but all my hopes were shattered the moment I turned around.
There stood a man, visibly older than me, with a dazzling smile as he offered me his hand.
“Would you like to dance?”
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Jude has always been the jealous type, the kind of guy who feels the need to protect his territory. And I loved that protective side of him to death.
Ever since that guy asked me to dance, Jude hasn’t been able to take his eyes off me. I smiled slightly to myself because I knew the effect I had on him. I could see that irritated expression of his, the one that said, “I don’t like what I’m watching,” and butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he still wanted me.
The guy had gone to get drinks, and while I was waiting, I heard a voice behind me, a voice too familiar to ignore.
“Were you trying to catch my attention? ‘Cause you did.”
My heart skipped a beat as I turned slowly, almost afraid of what I might find. There he was, closer than I expected, his eyes locked onto mine.
“I’m just trying to move on, like you should too,” I lied, my voice barely steady.
“Oh, sure you are,” Jude replied, his tone laced with sarcasm, but his eyes told a different story. They were searching mine, as if trying to find some truth behind my words.
“I saw how you were looking at me before, pretending not to notice,” he continued, stepping closer, my hands trembling harder than before.
“And I saw how you looked at me,” I shot back, my breath catching in my throat.
He smirked, the kind of smirk that made my knees weak. “So, what now? We keep pretending? Or are we going to talk about the fact that neither of us has moved on?”
I didn’t know what to say. I knew this night was going to be a long one.
His eyes and that little smirk. My heart was beating faster than it should have. Why was moving on so hard? My desire to jump into his arms was stronger than ever.
“Stop looking at me like that,” his voice pulled me back to reality. His gaze flickered away, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Like what?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “Like you always did before.” He hesitated, then continued, “I miss you so fuckin’ much.”
His words hung in the air between us, the kind of tension that made it hard to breathe. “I miss you so fuckin’ much,” he repeated, his voice rough, as if the confession had taken everything out of him. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine, searching for any hint of what I might be feeling.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. It was impossible to think straight with him standing so close, looking at me like I was the only person in the room.
“Tell me you don’t miss me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, “and I’ll walk away right now. But if you do, even a little…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering down to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “Then let’s stop pretending.”
My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to deny it, to tell him that I didn’t miss him, that I was perfectly fine on my own. But you know what the truth was.
“You’re making this really hard,” I finally managed to say, my voice shaky but laced with the frustration of someone who was desperately trying to hold it together.
He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine. He closed the gap between us, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, each word sending butterflies to my stomach. "I know you want me. I can see it in your eyes. You can't hide from me, not now."
He pressed a soft kiss on my jaw, making me grip the bottom of his shirt. His hand then took my wrist, a grip much stronger and demanding. His fingers intertwined with mine.
I timidly sought his eyes, which immediately met my gaze.
“Am I going to regret this?” Words came out in a whisper. Enough to be heard but not enough to hide myself from him. I could never.
“Not if you want to.”
And there it was. In that moment, I was fucked.
I pulled him by his shirt to bring my lips closer to his, first just brushing against them, then Jude's hand slid around my hips, pulling me closer as his lips finally moved against mine with a fervor that took my breath away. I responded eagerly, wrapping my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched his own.
As his kisses traveled from my lips to my neck, the sensation of his warm breath and soft, tantalizing kisses made it hard to think. His lips brushed against my collarbone, moving lower, each kiss sending shivers down my spine, like always.
“I think we should take this to my place, yeah?”
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slut4thebroken · 4 months
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The Deal
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | frat/fuck boy!Robert Fisher x reader
Summary | You’re supposed to be tutoring Robert but he needs your help “taking care of something” before he can focus.
Warnings | Smut, public sex, dumbification, “accidental” creampie, fingering, kissing, him being kinda pervy, a little degradation, technically misogyny, coercion?, praise.
Words | 2.2 k
Notes | ty @hllywdwhre for all your help 😭🙏🏻
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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Ever since the first time you tutored Robert at his place and he fucked you, you refused to go anywhere private for your sessions. Which usually meant you’d meet up at the library or a cafe. Today was no different. You met him at the library at 4 pm and, as always, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body. 
“Robert, you actually have to look at what I’m writing to learn this.” You huffed, getting annoyed when you caught him staring at your tits for the fifth time in barely ten minutes. 
“It’s not my fault you’re showing them off. I thought nerds were supposed to be prudes.” He smirked, making you blush a little. Honestly you didn’t get why Robert was paying for you to tutor him in the first place. He clearly didn’t care about learning the material. 
“I’m not... “showing them off.’” You muttered. “If you want to actually pass this class, you should figure out how to pay attention.” He smirked at your attempt to be stern with him. 
“You know, I’d be able to pay attention if my dick wasn’t hard.” He said casually, making you choke on your spit as your eyes widened. You still weren’t used to him talking like that. “And you look so fuckable in that sluttly little skirt.” His gaze dragged down your body to stare at your bare thighs. 
“Robert, stop.” You warned, making his smirk widen. 
“You said you want me to pay attention.” He said coyly. “So you can either get under the table and suck me off or we can go somewhere more private and I can fuck my load into that tight little cunt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month.” His voice was low and thick with arousal, and you swallowed audibly when his eyes fluttered back up to your face. 
“N-no. We’re not doing that again, it was a mistake.” You cringed when you heard the waver in your voice. 
“A mistake? Baby, if it was a mistake then why did it feel so good?” He purred. 
“I’m serious, Robert.” You’re not the type of girl who partakes in one night stands and you’ve felt embarrassed and ashamed for weeks because of how easily you gave into temptation. 
“So am I.” All of the amusement in this tone was suddenly gone. “Either stand up or get on your fucking knees.” You couldn’t help it when your thighs squeezed together a little from his words. “Well?” He asked impatiently. You bit your lip and looked away, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t want to do this again. And yet…
His smirk returned when you reluctantly got to your feet. “Good girl.” You followed him to the back of the library and once you were in a secluded area, he pushed you up against a shelf before pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, forcing a muffled sound of surprise from you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts, going down the curve of your waist to your hips, then down even further to feel the soft skin of your thighs. As one hand snaked up underneath your skirt and cupped your heat, he let out a low groan into the kiss. 
“God- I’ve missed this fucking cunt.” He whispered, moving down to start kissing over your neck. “And these tits.” His free hand pushed both your top and your bra up above your breasts. 
“Robert, wait.” You whispered, trying to pull it back down. But he quickly leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth, suckling on the hardened bud, effectively keeping you from covering yourself. “Someone could walk by.” You whispered more urgently this time, then gasped when his hand suddenly slipped in your panties to start rubbing your clit. 
“Shh… Just be quiet and we’ll be fine, baby.” He murmured against you before simultaneously moving his mouth to your other nipple and pushing two fingers inside you. He let out a low, appreciative moan when he felt the tightness of your walls practically suffocating just two fingers. “I forgot how fucking tight you are.” He groaned, curling his fingers against your walls, making your hands fly up to cling to his shoulders. 
“Robert.” You whimpered. He suddenly bit your nipple lightly, making you gasp as your hips bucked. 
“I can’t believe I’ve gone all these years fucking the whores who throw themselves at me and not the nerds who keep their cunts nice and tight by not sleeping around.” He chuckled, pulling back to look at you as he pushed a third finger in. You let your head fall back against the shelf as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips just barely grinding on his hand. You could feel the bulge in his pants pushing against your leg now and you started panting at just the thought of what was about to happen. 
When your back arched slightly, jutting your exposed breasts out more, he cursed under his breath and removed his fingers to start unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. You gasped as he suddenly spun you around and bent you forward a little. Wasting no time, he swiftly pulled your panties down just below your ass, then used one hand to hold your hip, while the other lined his cock up with your entrance. 
“Wait— Condom.” You said quickly, making him pause. He huffed but released you and you looked over your shoulder, watching him pull out his wallet and look through it 
“I don’t have one.” You bit your lip and glanced down at his cock. It was already beading precum and so incredibly flushed— your cunt pulsed at the thought of it finally inside you again. 
“Okay- okay, just pull out.” You said firmly and he nodded before eagerly getting back into position. “I’m serious, Robert.” You said, making him roll his eyes. 
“I know— I will.” He said impatiently. Once you got his verbal agreement, you turned back around, letting him line up again. The thick head of his cock dragged through your slit, spreading your arousal before pushing up against your hole. When his cock breached your entrance, you had to bite your lip to muffle the whimper that slipped out. He continued pushing deeper until his hips were flush with your ass and you let out a shaky breath as your walls struggled to accommodate the intrusion. 
“Fuck- ease up, you’re practically forcing me out.” He grunted, moving both hands to hold your hips as he paused. 
“Sorry.” You whimpered. You didn’t really know why you were apologizing though since you couldn’t help how tight you were. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he slowly dragged his hips back and when he moved forward again, your legs trembled and you quickly clung to the shelf to hold yourself up. 
“I swear… this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked.” He said through a breath, making you whine quietly. “Wraps perfectly around my cock.” He started thrusting a little faster now, but not fast enough to make too much noise. You had to cover your mouth with your hand because you were getting just a little too loud and you knew Robert wouldn’t stop because of that. If anything he’d probably fuck you harder just to make you moan louder. 
When he leaned over you so your back was flush with his front, then grabbed your breasts, you bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet. Robert squeezed and groped you greedily before focusing on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you were gasping out.  
“I bet the only reason you wanted to have these sessions here was so that I’d finally rail you in public, out where anyone could get a free show.” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head a little. “I felt your cunt tighten up when I said that…” He scoffed in response to your weak protest. “Who would’ve guessed that the nerd was actually a little whore.” He chuckled, making your cheeks burn with a dark blush. 
“You wear these slutty tops that show off your tits, these tiny little skirts that barely cover anything…” He stood straight again and flipped your skirt up, giving him a clearer view of your ass bouncing with each thrust. “And fuck— when you wear those fucking glasses, I swear I get harder than I thought was physically possible.”
“Robert..” You whimpered, the sound coming out muffled beneath your hand as you reached down to rub your clit that was throbbing almost painfully by now.  
“I know.” He cooed mockingly. “You’re so smart all the time… I bet you’ve just been waiting for someone to finally fuck you into the brainless bimbo you pretend not to be, huh?” 
“Oh god…” You sobbed quietly, knees buckling as you got closer to your release.  
“You get a cock in this needy little cunt and all that IQ just disappears instantly.” He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble as he tried to stay quiet. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you tutor me if I get to fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head after. How does that sound, baby?” You mewled and nodded, back arching, unintentionally pushing your hips into his. “Good girl.” He said through a breathy laugh. 
His hands settled on your hips again and he sped up even more. He wasn’t holding you enough to keep you from falling to the floor as your legs turned to jelly, so you had to take the hand off of your mouth and hold yourself up, wanting to keep rubbing your clit. All you could focus on was Robert, his cock, and your impending orgasm. 
“Wanna come.” You whined, making him laugh again. 
“Yeah? Does that needy pussy want to cream all over my cock?” He cooed, his mocking only pushing you closer to the edge. When you mewled and nodded again, he said, “Go ahead, baby. Show me how much you love being my bimbo bitch.”  
You rubbed your clit impossibly faster, now chasing your orgasm more eagerly since you had his permission. When the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped, your knees buckled, almost sending you to the floor, but Robert held you up and pushed you into the bookshelf a little more to keep you from falling. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through you and you tried to keep your sounds quiet, but with his cock still fucking you relentlessly, your efforts were unavailing. 
Robert was moaning quietly behind you at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock and with one final grunt, he pulled your hips back to meet his thrust. You whined as his cock twitched with each rope of come that spurted out, painting your walls. The sounds he was letting out were starting to make you needy all over again, but soon enough they quieted into heavy breathing as he rested his body on yours, panting against your neck. 
“Fuck…” He hissed, finally leaning up again and slowly dragging his hips back until his cock slipped out of your fluttering hole. He pushed you down farther so that your torso was almost parallel to the floor, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread you open, watching his come dribble out of your puffy folds. 
His come. 
Fuck. 
“Robert.” You whined once you realized that he didn’t pull out. 
“What?” He asked absentmindedly, playing with your sensitive pussy and pushing his come back inside before pulling your panties up around your hips. 
“You said you’d pull out..” You heard clothes rustling, then he was lifting you up and turning you around to fix your own clothes. 
“Sorry, baby, I forgot.” He said, with no remorse in his tone. “You just felt so good.” You stared up at him through your lashes as you pouted. When he realized you were about to say something again, he pulled you into another kiss. You draped your arms over his shoulders, needing a little help standing on your legs that still felt like jelly. 
“Excuse me!” An offended voice said from the end of the aisle. You both turned to look, finding one of the older librarians standing there with a cart full of books to be reshelved. “That’s hardly appropriate for this setting.” She scoffed. 
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Thank you for the warning, it won’t happen again.” Robert said with an ingratiating tone as he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you past her. She even blushed when he gave her that charming smile he usually uses to get what he wants.  
As you walked back to the table, he leaned down to speak against your ear. “Next week I’ll see you at my place. I expect you to uphold your end of the deal.” Your fucked out brain could barely even remember what he was talking about when he said “the deal” but you blushed when you realized what you technically agreed to just a few minutes ago. Maybe you were still cock drunk… but the idea didn’t seem too bad now.
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pastelsicheng · 4 months
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never punctual [l.mk]
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summary : a study date with your superhero best friend turns into a real date with your superhero boyfriend
pairing : mark x gn!reader
genre : spider-man AU, bffs to lovers AU, fluff
warnings : mentions of an injury and blood caused by glass, mentions of anxiety
word count : ~ 2.56 k
author’s note : in honour of mark releasing 200, i have reposted this. enjoy :) also it’s not explicitly said but i wrote this with the idea that mark lee is spider-man in toronto
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     Ever since the stupid spider bite, Mark could never be punctual. 
     It’s not that he became imprudent—he always tried his best to make it to places earlier than he was supposed to, because constantly being late throughout elementary school and being forced to stay after school for detention with rude teachers had given him anxiety. Rather, he always found himself becoming occupied with saving something or someone. 
     Back when he lived his life in blissful ignorance, he would have never stopped for any of these people. Now though, his moral compass had taken over. He’d learned quickly that whatever he’d be learning or hearing at school was not as important as saving and helping a civilian. Especially when he knew how corrupt and useless the police were. 
     That being said, Mark was late. 
     Mask covering his face, he swung past condos and corporate buildings. The wind rushed past his face as he flew across the city. The late evening sky was yellow as the sun was preparing to set, the light sparkling against the lake. Oftentimes, he took time to enjoy the view. Nothing could beat the beauty of his hometown. This time, though, he didn’t notice anything. All he could think about was that he was late.
     Late to meeting you for your study date. 
     “Come on,” Mark mutters to himself. He pushes himself harder, putting more force into his swings in an attempt to speed himself up. The strain is felt in his upper arms, but he tells himself that it’s punishment for losing track of time. 
     Why’d he always have to go and make a fool out of himself in front of you? You already knew about him being Spider-man and that he was often late because he was out doing superhero things. Regardless, he still felt anxious and embarrassed having to face you each time he was running behind schedule. Maybe it was the conditioning he went through in elementary school—after all, Mrs. Addison really scared the hell out of him and made him cry every time he was late. Or maybe he just hated the way he presented himself to you. No one wants to date someone who's constantly late to plans. No one would want to date Mark. Especially not even you. 
     It was bad enough that he could barely hold in his feelings every time he was in your presence. He was lucky that you were oblivious when it came to romantic feelings (or perhaps you just didn’t want to embarrass him, but Mark liked to think that you were just oblivious to how he felt). 
     Why was he such a mess around you?
     The sudden increase in speed and the jumbled thoughts of you in his head have Mark stumbling as he lands by a trash bin in an alley. He loses his footing and falls roughly onto all fours. The sharp pebbles and rocks of the asphalt dig into his palms and knees. 
     “Fuck,” he hisses in pain. Sitting up, he looks at his hands. A shard of glass is wedged in his palm. Glancing down, he notices that he fell right on top of broken glass. Just his luck. 
     Mark stands upright carefully, and pulls the pieces of glass from his skin. Luckily he’s wearing his suit underneath his outfit, so his knees are safe from any harm. His hands on the other hand…
     He pulls off his backpack from his shoulders and rips off his mask, shoving it inside. He also pulls out a small pack of tissues and pulls a couple out. He wipes the blood on his palms, presses and holds the tissue carefully on the wound, then zips his bag. It should do for now. He could run to the bathroom and wrap his hand up once he got to you. 
     Taking off once again, Mark sprints across the sidewalk, dodging people left and right. It's not until he reaches the community library that he finally pauses to catch his breath. His heart is pounding against his chest and his breaths are fast and heavy. Was he dying?
     After being bitten, Mark's stamina and physical abilities had increased greatly. Exercise like this was nothing to him. In fact, on good days, he was able to run 50 km without breaking a sweat. Why was his heart pounding after just a bit of running?
     He knew the answer (he was nervous because of you), but he didn't want to acknowledge it. Mark was not a silly middle schooler who went crazy because of a crush. 
     “Be still, my heart,” he says quietly to himself. He makes his way to the bench outside the entrance and sits down. 
     His therapist had recommended in his last session that he try doing meditation and breathing techniques anytime he felt anxious. Now was a better time than ever to test it out. 
     Closing his eyes, Mark rests his hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and slowly takes deep breaths, trying to calm his heart down. 
     Inner peace. Find your inner peace and meditate. Deep breath in… Deep breath out… In… Out… In… Out… In—
     “What are you doing, Mark?”
     Instantly his heart rate picks up again. So much for inner peace and meditation. 
     “Oh!” Mark jumps up from the bench at the sight of you. Your backpack is slung over one shoulder, and you've changed your outfit from what you had worn to school. Not that Mark noticed and kept track of what you wore on a daily basis. He wasn't that smitten with you. “Haha, hi, (Y/N). How long have you been waiting here for?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.
     “I just came. What were you doing? Are you okay?” you ask in concern. You reach a hand out to Mark's face, an attempt to see whether he is feverish, but Mark slaps your hand away harshly. 
     “I'm fine!” he says a bit too loudly. A couple of passersby glance at the two of you. 
     “Okay…” you say cautiously, clutching your arm where he had hit you (instant regret hits Mark when he sees that. Why did he hit you??? He mentally slaps himself). You're unconvinced with his answer. He's definitely not okay. His skin is flushed pink, and his hand… is that blood? 
     You reach out for his hand, and this time, Mark doesn't swat you away. You peel away the tissues that he had clenched in his palms and see a deep cut. 
     “I'm fine,” Mark says. He isn't, but he didn't want you to worry. His abilities also included healing super fast, so his hand would be as good as new in a few days time anyway. 
     “Who did you fight that your hands are bleeding?”
     “Oh, uh… just somebody,” he lies. Mark feels embarrassed, he's sure his ears are red by this point. Imagine having to lie that you got into a fight. Most people lied saying their injuries were self-inflicted by their clumsiness. Mark lied that he really did fight someone. “I'm fine, (Y/N), really.”
     Your stare is intense as you look at the injury. Your fingers seek to trace around it, but they linger millimeters away in fear of hurting him even more. 
     “You should wash it at least. You'll get an infection. I don't think Spidey powers can save you from an infection.”
     At the mention of his alias, Mark shushes you loudly. He glances around to make sure that no one overheard you.
     “Don't say stuff like that out loud,” he scolds. 
     You roll your eyes. “As if people would suspect you. Every Spider-man face drawing is of a white person. You're safe, Mark.”
     “You can never be too careful.”
     “You say that, yet your hand is bleeding.” You squeeze his wrist and Mark flinches, pulling himself back from you. His super strength gave him the ability to basically be immune to any teasing punches or hits from his friends, but a single touch from you has each individual cell burning up. A squeeze from anyone else would be barely noticeable, but from you it feels like pins pricking his skin. In a good way.
     “I'll go wrap it up,” Mark says. He knows you’ll insist on helping him clean and wrap the wound, but he also knows that he won’t be able to handle you holding his hand for longer than a few seconds. “Go get us a table.”
     He doesn't wait for your response, walking through the automatic sliding doors and heading towards the men's washroom. 
     It takes him around five minutes to clean up his wound and bandage it properly. Oftentimes, Mark didn’t bother taking care of his wounds beyond keeping them clean. He had superpowers now, which meant there was no need to worry about reopening any injuries. In fact, his skin was already healing itself. He only did these things to appease you.
     Oh, the things he did just for you. 
     After making sure that he didn’t look like an embarrassed tomato, he exits the bathroom and goes in search of you. He sees you standing at the back of the library waving your arm to grab his attention. 
     “Hey,” he greets you again. He sets his backpack on the table and pulls out his calculus textbook and notebook. He feels your heavy stare on him, and turns his head slowly to see you scrutinizing him. 
     “Are you really okay?” you ask. You cautiously take his hand in yours. The bandage was sloppily wrapped around his hand so you untuck it, fixing the cotton balls and tightening the gauze. Mark can feel his ears turning red. The contact of your skin on his makes his hand feel like it’s on fire. He doesn’t pull away from your touch, though, because he feels guilty about slapping your hand away earlier. You would definitely pester him with more questions if he tried to avoid you. 
     “I’m okay. I heal fast, don’t worry.”
     “Hold this,” you instruct. He takes hold of the gauze and you go digging in your backpack for something. You pull out a safety pin and take Mark’s hand back in yours, pinning the fabric so that it couldn’t become undone. You pat his hand softly. “There.”
     “Thanks.” His right leg bounces in an attempt to release all the pent up energy as soon as your touch leaves him. Mark uses his good hand to run his hands through his hair. 
     “I know your powers help you heal quickly, but you should still take care of yourself. The radioactive stuff probably has side effects as it is. You never know when something bad might happen.”
     “Aren’t you an optimist?”
     You smile at his words. “I mean it. You never know what can happen. You should be careful.”
          “I will. Now let’s study.” Mark can’t hold your gaze for longer than a few seconds. His eyes keep flitting away to look anywhere besides your face. He hopes that if he can get you to pay attention to your own work, maybe his heart would slow down a bit. 
     You don’t even open your backpack, though.
     Mark always made his feelings obvious. You’d figured out a while back that he had a crush on you after he had accidentally sent you a message on Instagram. He’d deleted it immediately, but it was too late. You had already seen the notification. 
     Since then, you enjoyed teasing Mark. Touching his hand, and saying things that made him a shy and blubbering mess. It was also your attempt at showing him that you felt the same way, but Mark was dumb. 
     “Do I make you nervous?” you ask. 
     “Huh?” Mark turns to look at you, though his eyes don’t meet your own. “No, you don’t. Why would I feel nervous around you?” 
     He laughs. Nervously, of course. Did you know how he felt? 
     “You’re acting like you have a crush on me or something. Do you like me?”
     Mark freezes. “W-what?”
     You shuffle your chair closer to him and lean forward, a mischievous glint in your eye. Mark instinctively leans back. “So you don’t have feelings for me? Your heart doesn’t speed up if I do this?” 
     You press a kiss to his cheek, a quick peck that lasts barely a second. For Mark though, it feels like at least a minute. An hour even. He could sit there staring into the air and replaying the moment for days if the library didn’t have curfew. He can feel his body heating up and the blush rising to his cheeks.
     “Woah, what are you doing?” he chokes out. He turns to look around nervously, hoping no one was paying any attention to him acting a fool. 
     You don’t give him an answer, your hands going to his chest and feeling his heart thumping loudly. Mark flinches and stands abruptly, his chair making a loud noise when it scrapes backwards. A few people turn to look at him, and he feels even more embarrassed. 
     You tug him back down on his seat. “You okay? Your heart’s racing.” There’s a teasing smile on your face, and Mark scrunches his nose at you. ‘Cute,’ you think to yourself. 
     Mark clears his throat. His attempt at trying to brush past everything and act normal. “I’m fine. We should study.” 
     You sigh, fed up with his (un)intentional ignorance. “Mark, I’m trying to tell you I like you too. Why do you want to study so bad?”
     “What?” For the first time since he set foot in that library, he looks you dead in the eyes. 
     “I like you. I have feelings for you. I want to date you. How else do you want me to put it? Je t’aime, Mark. Je—”
     “I get it,” he cuts you off. “Are you serious? Or are you playing me—”
     “Do you want me to kiss you on the lips this time?”
     Mark’s taken aback by how brave you are. Why couldn’t he be like you and confess how he felt too?
     “No need for that. I mean– you can, I would like that– but not right now. Not that I don’t want to kiss you– I just– I’ll shut up,” he sputters. His face is burning up and he rubs his cheeks to try and cool them down. Mark feels like burying himself alive. Why’s he so freaking awkward? 
     Despite his negative rizz, you giggle. “Do you wanna get outta here and go on an actual date?” you ask. “So I can ask you to be my boyfriend properly?”
     A noise ranging between a scream and a squeak falls out of Mark’s mouth. More people turn to stare, some even giving him the stink eye. 
     Calm down. Deep breaths. Don’t get too excited, Mark. 
     “O-okay,” he manages to say.
     You grin and grab your backpack. “I’ll wait for you outside so you can calm yourself down. You’re as red as your mask, Spidey.” 
     He didn’t have to look into a mirror to know that he was flushed red. Mark watches as you flash him a peace sign then turn your back to him. There’s a skip in your step as you get further away. 
     Mark was never punctual. You’d even beaten him to asking him out on a date. But for once, the stupid spider bite had done him some good. It had gotten him you.
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itstheghostofmypast · 4 months
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His Little Cowboy
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(College AU) Choi San x (f)Reader
Summary: It turns out that beards aren't as bad as misinterpreting a text, especially when you want to introduce your lover to your friends. Or maybe don't plan on doing that in a themed college party?
Genre: Hurt Comfort
Word Count: 2.8K
Est. Read Time: 15 min
Warnings: mentions of alcohol
Rating: PG-17
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network
Linked With: 22.59
A/N: Shout out to @yessa-vie straight up digging up the cowboy pics for me. The number of times I listened to this song- @edenesth , is to be blamed.
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Moving past the sweaty bodies she groaned, inwardly grimacing at the stench of alcohol, cheap perfume and oh god please don't let that be puke. This is not how she wanted to spend her weekend, but ever since that dinner where the two had confessed to each other, San had been persistent about them making a public appearance together, slight problem though- he was popular, Mr. Charming, Mr. Optimism, Mr- WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!?
With a scoff she jumped over some knocked-out dude, really leave it to Choi San to call her to a party and then not answer his phone- even so, he had wanted her to meet his friends, a very...very intimidating group of loud, popular, good looking guys, truth be told most of them already were in a relationship, which would explain why San was more persistent in giving them an official label, not that she would mind that, she loved him unconditionally, a feeling that had blossomed ever so slowly but hit her like a truck once it began to flow over, which is why...she had agreed to this stupid idea...which is why she had agreed to this...to coming here...to wearing such an outfit. 
Standing on her toes she tried to spot her lover, who was supposed to be dressed as a cowboy in black; leave it to college parties to have the weirdest theme- it wasn't even Wild West, well, it was, but they called it 'Outlaw themed'. The theme itself was off-putting due to several historical events but who was she to say no when he had asked her so politely, so quietly, with his face buried in the crook of her neck in the late hours of the night as her fingers played with his short locks, humming when he mumbled against her skin, squeezing her closer as he asked her to attend this party with him, he'd even tell her what to wear, which was odd for when she had read the text the next morning really did confuse her, but agreed anyway- God her face was so itchy- OH SAN!
"SAN!" She called out, smiling when he turned around, eyes scanning the sea of bodies for her. Waving her arm in the air she walked closer to the man in the black cowboy hat, though his eyes never landed on her, instead, he was still looking around. With a huff she squeezed past a couple and almost tripped, only to collide with his chest- bare chest? Her eyes widened at the man, hands instinctively gripping onto the attire- a cropped leather waistcoat? Staring up at him she licked her chapped lips, tugging on the coat gently as he frowned down at her, why did he look...confused? Was he...upset she actually showed up? To be honest, she didn't have time to divulge her insecurities because the vest was distracting, the tussles were caressing her face and the bandana just made her Sannie look like-
"You lost there, buddy?"
Buddy?
"We thought you were dating someone? What are you collecting little boys for- oh wait the beard means you're a big boy right, partner?" Her head whipped in the direction of the voice, is that Wooyoung? Wait, little boy...my god.
"Sannie! It's me!" She squeaked cupping his face as he stiffened, before she felt him gently squeeze her waist, moving closer to her face before his expression morphed into pure disgust- "What the hell are you supposed to be!?" He whined, ignoring the way Wooyoung had burst out laughing, not stopping when his own partner slapped his shoulder, asking him not to embarrass San and his girlfriend even more.
"Like you said! A cowboy!"
.
They had moved to a quieter area of the house, one with proper lighting and- kitchen, all of them had crowded the kitchen, with her sitting on a counter as San glared at her, arms crossed over his chest.... how could someone look so nice in such poor lighting.
"Well?"
"Huh?" 
"What are you supposed to be?" He asked in a low tone, ignoring how his friends were still snickering behind him. It amazed her how he was still towering over her, like that, kind of making her feel smaller than usual, twiddling her thumbs she mumbled "A cowboy...Sannie...you said let's go as a cowboy couple."
A deep laugh resonated from behind the man as she peaked up to find one of them, Seonghwa, who chuckled when their eyes met, only for him to give her a gentle smile, though she could see the glint in his eyes, a little teasing swirling within his orbs, but the angel, his angel, sitting next to him squeezed his hand, begging him to not make it worse.
"What- I? What!?" He gasped, arms flailing around to emphasize whatever the hell he was trying to say as she shrugged, "I SAID A COWBOY COUPLE!?"
"Yeah, and I am one."
"That usually means a guy and his girl!"
 "You realise the actual number of cowgirls was less, if not nonexistent, and usually they did all the work but got little to no credit. This is exactly why these parties confuse me, are we glorifying misogyny?" She deadpanned, pointing to her fake beard causing him to facepalm, never had he met someone so smart yet so stupid- and to think he loved her? Who's the bigger fool here?
"I love how both of you are majoring in communication but aren't able to communicate with each other."
Her lips quirked downwards at that statement, feeling the weight of it hanging in the air- oh- so he wanted her to dress up like those sexy cowgirls...well he should've just said that! Even though she would want to say no, she would have done it anyway because it was for him. That's when it hit her, he wanted to introduce her to his friends too, and while all their significant others were dressed for the occasion, she looked like a hobo, with her baggy cowboy outfit, giant hat and well...the beard. Shit. This was not good, this was not good at all, she misread the situation again- what kind of girlfriend chooses to look unpresentable? What if he thinks she did this to embarrass him- hell he has every right to be upset with her-
"What?"
The sharp tone of his caused her eyes to flicker up from her lap to his face, gut twisting at the way he had turned back to stare at Wooyoung, his cold glare making the other one let out a nervous chuckle, wait no, he shouldn’t take the anger out on his friend, especially when it is her fault for just assuming what he meant- man this beard was itchy.
“I’m just saying…” Wooyoung shrugged, before looking around at everyone, most of whom were now engaged in talking to each other or on their phones, then back at San, who was still glaring at him. Sure, he wanted them to meet his girlfriend, and sure he was upset that she chose the wrong time to misread the situation, but that did not give anyone the right to humiliate her more than she already had done to herself-
“San-ah…” she whispered, gently nudging his leg with her foot, trying to talk to him, whispering, “I can go back and change…” Nah, she was just gonna dip and not come back, probably telling him how she got abducted by aliens by leaving him a note and disappearing because this was a moment of peak embarrassment-
“Your beard’s really cool, what did you use?”
“Huh?” moving to the right her eyes met a certain blonde man’s- she’d never heard Hongjoong speak before, well that’s because in any class the two shared he’d be sitting quietly at the back, “Oh um…facial glue.”
“Woah, you glued it?” He asked, moving closer to inspect it then hummed, “Dedication.”
“I mean she did fool Sannie here,” Seonghwa added, his angel sitting next to him nodding as she hummed in agreement, “It's an A for effort, I kind of wished I went for something similar.”
“I know right!” the girl who had been glaring at her idiotic boyfriend- the idiot was Wooyoung- for upsetting San added, “I was impressed- we should’ve done this, would’ve been so cool.”
She only smiled at their kind words, a bit upset about how she let him down, but hey, at least they were enjoying it. That was all it took for the awkwardness to fade though, perhaps with the help of the other women involved, the conversation had begun to flow smoothly, each one slowly introducing themselves, most men did constantly talk about the beard, but when it came to Jongho, San’s gym buddy – who she wanted to thank because, lord bless, the way her man had beefed up, she’d make sure Jongho and San never quit being friends- he did point out how “They’re all jealous they can’t grow beards as thick as yours- you pulled it off better than most of them could too.”
The causal chatter thus turned into loud, yet fun banter, her laughter causing San, who had been quietly standing next to her, back leaning against the counter she was sitting on, to look at her, chatting with the rest of them like they had been friends for years. Truth be told he found it amusing, no he loved it, how even at this point, knowing she made a mistake she was honest enough to tell him her opinion, about how she felt about the whole theme parties- communication was never really the problem if you ask him, perhaps it was the intent to make the other happy, that would cause problems, the fear of disappointing the other. No one really said that the girls should come dressed as sexy cowgirls or cowgirls at all, and the effort she had put into the outfit made him realise how this was the first party she had ever attended. He remembers how in the earlier days of their relationship, she had mentioned how she’d never been invited to a party, themed or not, not that she would ever go to one- though he had shushed her and promised to take her to one, but for almost four years she had been avoiding it- well perhaps she said yes, this time because they were an official item now, and not just a fling. That made him feel worse, he had spent 20 minutes of her ‘partying time’, arguing with her over something so stupid. He could only sigh at the way he ended up with someone who was only book smart but an idiot otherwise, someone who was so stubborn yet so caring, someone who would try their best to meet his expectations- even if it meant glueing a beard-
“Ow! San!” she hissed, rubbing her cheek before slapping his hand away, causing everyone else to stop talking and look at their friend, who held a tuft of black synthetic hair pinched between his fingers.
“You okay, dude?” Wooyoung asked as San frowned at the hair and then back at her, mumbling, “My god, this really is glued isn’t it?”
“YAH THINK?” she yelled before snatching the torn piece from his hand as she pouted at it, “What is wrong with you~” she whined only to be cut off by Mingi, who she had learnt was one of the noisiest and nosiest friends, spoke up, “The real question is, is San going to kiss her with the beard on?”
She looked up at him eagerly, batting her eyelashes at him, his eyes widening at the realization of how she was still able to look so cute; this was the exact same look she’d give him every time she knew she was winning, when she knew he’d give into her every whim, the look that would make him feel like he was the most important thing to her in the entire universe- maybe he really was- and for this very reason his head jerked to the side as he broke eye contact, knowing if he kept looking at her for a second longer, maybe he would’ve kissed her right there and then, in front of everyone, even though he knew how public display of affection was not her cup of tea. Even if touch was his love language, he knew she’d bask in it and ask for it behind closed doors, so the kiss right now was more of a way of satisfying the people around them, a way of satisfying him, as if she were trying to make it up to him, for misinterpreting the situation, for which she would choose to come out of her comfort zone just for, just to let him know how much he meant to her- god, he really did love her. The group broke out in laughter, causing San’s face to turn red, almost the same colour as her shirt.
She reached for him, fingertips brushing against his arm, causing him to stand up straight clearing his throat as he mumbled, “I’m gonna get you something to drink, stay with them,” as he left the kitchen, ignoring the ‘boo’s’ he was receiving from his friends- he was desperate to introduce her to his circle of friends, but he also forgot how bloody annoying they could be, teasing him at any moment given, hell they had even made a big deal out of his outfit for today, claiming how he ‘was trying so hard to impress her’, adding the ‘Sannie, you know she likes smart guys- oh wait, no maybe that’s not true since you’re in the picture’.
Sighing he looked at himself in the mirror, why was his face so pink? He had been washing his face for God knows how long, trying to calm down, trying to not think about how now everyone knew about his secret little lover, how they’d steal her attention, how they’d make sure she’d be involved in every activity, which was a good thing, but he was her Sannie! How could be her Sannie with them always around- oh my god, get a grip-did he turn redder? All he did was drink apple juice- shit, he had to get her something to drink!
Slamming open the door he stumbled out only to halt at the sight of the bearded cowboy- oh his bearded cowboy who was frowning up at him, causing him to pout at her, somewhat guilty for leaving her hanging and-
“Is the beard really bothering you this much?”
“No, they’re bothering me.”
“Huh?” she looked up at him as if he had spoken French, “What do you mean? I thought they liked me?”
“They do like you.” He sighed, reaching for her hand as he began to walk towards the nearby terrace, knowing it would be empty since the party was downstairs, sliding open the door he slipped outside pulling her out with him as he made her sit on one of the outdoor chairs, kneeling in front of her on the ground as he held her hands, looking up at her, “I’m afraid they like you so much that I won’t get to be myself around you, you know?” he mumbled before placing her hands on his cheeks, causing her to giggle and squeeze his face.
“Aww, Sannie, you don’t have to worry about that, I’m just glad they don’t think I’m weird.”
“They definitely think you are weird.” He mumbled out, only for her to squish his cheeks harder, leaning down to peck his puckered lips before letting go, though he pulled her back, his hand resting at the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, holding her still as he brushed his lips against hers, “This beard is really annoying.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t kiss me with it glued to my face.” She whispered, grateful to finally have a moment of peace with him, a moment where they could just be themselves, “Next time, just come over and tell me what to wear.”
“Nah, I think I like this look on you,” He perked up, pecking her lips once more, causing her to let out a giggle, arms wrapping around his neck, about to ask him about the reason behind his choice of clothes when she was cut off, by a very noisy Mingi who’s hollering could be heard as he ran away,
“FOUND THEM! YA’LL OWE ME! HE’S TOTALLY INTO THE BEARD!”
Shaking her head in disbelief, she stood up, helping him up as well as she squeezed his hand, causing him to look at her, a pout already present on his face, dreading what was to come next, “Ready for a shit ton of teasing?”
“Not really.” He mumbled as he sighed, causing her to let out a chuckle as she dragged him back downstairs to the noisy group who was oh so ready to tease the hell out of their ‘Sannie’ and his little cowboy.
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Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp
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✨Staticmoth wedding headcanons✨
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Because I have a lot of thoughts but can't come up with the plot to turn it into fic
✨ Vox absolutely loses his shit. You would think that Valentino would be a groomzilla material but oh no no, Val just wants sexy dress and enough coke to last three days of partying. Vox needs everything perfect. He has his grand vision and is ready to tear with bare hands everyone who does not deliver. During the preparation time, he murders as many people as Val usually does. Velvette bails on being the wedding planner after just two weeks because it was seriously straining their friendship. But after a month, she's back in the game. Why? Because Vox strangled three other wedding planners in frustration, and things weren't moving forward, so Val was starting to freak out.
✨ The event is held at the Vees' Tower. I reckon they've got a venue suitable for hosting conferences and porn award shows.
✨ It's a grand event. I'm talking Grand™, like the Kim K and Kanye West of Hell kind of grand. But it's also elite, so the guest list isn't that long, around 200 invited people plus 50 ticketed spots for anyone willing to drop 100k hellish bucks to attend. Everything is dripping with gold and diamonds because "quiet luxury" isn't in the Vees' vocabulary. The whole affair reflects Val's aesthetic more, as it's Vox's love letter to him. Vox already had his wedding, and now it's time to fulfill his husband's dreams. So Val makes about 90% of the decisions without shouldering any real responsibilities. Which is fine by everyone because he's annoying as hell when it comes to picking roses, flamingo feathers, and starters. Nobody wants to put him in high-stress situations. Expect lots of red, pink, and gold, with heavy, decadent fabrics and neon lights; it's like an exclusive brothel meets the Las Vegas strip.
✨ When it comes to flowers, they settled on roses because they're Vox's favorites, which naturally made them Val's favorite too, given the sheer number of bouquets he's received. Vox, being the freak he is, counts every single bouquet he's ever given to Val. So, for their wedding, he ensures there are twice as many roses. Yes, he's a pathological overachiever.
✨ As for attractions, there’s a plethora of erotic dancers in cages and mesmerizing drone light shows. Karaoke, slot machines, live cooking stations, and all the drugs you can imagine. And let's not forget a fountain flowing with tequila. It's a true adult wonderland.
✨ Valentino skips the whole white dress thing and rocks a fierce red latex gown that's very Mugler but with a fetishcore twist. Vox keeps it sleek in a sharp black three-piece suit. His shirt's a bold blue, and his tie matches Val's dress. His shoulder pads are pointy, his waist is slutty, his ass looks divine. Oh yeah, about slutty waist - underneath the shirt he is hiding a leather corset, as a treat for the wedding night.
✨ Also none of them really have friends other than Velvette, just associates so there are no groomsmen/maids.
✨ Since there aren't any traditional churches or government officials in Hell (if there's even a government at all), Velvette takes on the role of officiating the wedding. Vox isn't entirely thrilled with this choice because there's always the risk she might crack a joke or publicly rib him, but hey, there's really no one else who could pull it off. I imagine that a wedding in Hell is also some form of magical contract but more about partnership than ownership. They do not exchange rings but blood sksksk also I don’t think that Vox can really wear rings with his claws? And they couldn't quite agree on a design that satisfied both of them. In the end, Val ends up wearing his illegally imported engagement ring from Earth, featuring four pink diamonds shaped like a moth's wings.
✨ Val's vow is, well, atrocious. It's the kind of thing that would definitely land him in one of those TikTok compilations of terrible grooms ruining their weddings. He mentions cream pieing Vox at least once. Vox at first freaks out but seconds later realizes Wow that's the man I'm marrying. I wouldn't want him any other way On the flip side, Vox's vow is immaculate. Crafted with the assistance of Voxtek's CMO and practiced to perfection, it leaves everyone in awe. He has out-of-body experience playing this role of prince charming.
✨ For their first dance, they opt for a steamy tango. Picture this: swirling red smoke on the floor, making it seem like they're dancing on the sky of the pride ring when the sun is setting down. Little do the guests know, the smoke is laced with drugs, sending most of them on a wild trip. The party quickly goes off the rails, but in the best way possible (according to the Vees’ standards).
✨ The cake is a five-tier monstrosity with five different flavors: tres leches and chocolate-cherry chosen by Val, confetti cake and strawberry cheesecake chosen by Vox and Red Velvet for Velvette because she couldn't shut up about it To top it all off, there's a big chocolate figure of Vox and Valentino dancing. Val is later caught drunk, eating it with his bare hands like the filthy animal he is.
✨ Velvette’s wedding gift is a pair of customized matching guns with small engravings that read "Partners in Crime."
✨ Valentino pulls off a surprise special pole dance performance as a wedding gift for his husband. Let's just say it's scorching hot and leaves at least 50 guests with, uh, visible excitement. Later on, things almost escalate to a full-on table bang, but...
✨ Velvette spends the entire evening reminding them that they can't just vanish to consummate their marriage because this whole party took months of preparations, and they need to be present. After all, people paid good money to be around them. The threat of cock cages hangs over their heads, but they promise to behave. However, Val being the horny beast he is, ends up taking Vox to the bathroom for a quickie anyway. Velvette decides to let it slide this time.
✨ At least 20 casualties mark the night. Vox ends up zapping one of the guests who gets a bit too clingy with Val during the dance. Meanwhile, Val gets into a brawl and, well, let's just say it doesn't end well for the other guy. Surprisingly, everyone seems to be having a great time, but hey, these are the Vees' colleagues we're talking about—they thrive on violence and sex.
✨ Yeah, there's no shortage of sex at this party. With a guest list mainly consisting of businesspeople, adult performers, and mobsters, tensions escalate rapidly. By around 3 A.M., half of the party is busy getting down and dirty in every corner imaginable.
✨ When Vox reaches the perfect level of drunkenness, he seizes control of the DJ station. Surprisingly, he's a natural, dropping beats like a pro and having an absolute blast. Val, meanwhile, goes absolutely wild watching him, thrilled to see Vox letting loose and embracing his creative side.
✨ Derek, Vox's assistant, is the odd one out, the only low-status person to snag an invite because Vox felt kinda generous. But truth be told, Derek hates the idea and wasn't keen on attending. However, when Melissa caught wind of his invitation, she practically dragged him there to be his plus one, desperate to get closer to Velvette. Derek's terrified of most of the guests, but Melissa's over the moon. She later fucks him as a reward for being a very brave boy. Angel is not invited because he would ruin mood of both grooms.
✨ Valentino had prepared the filthiest, kinkiest, most elaborate wedding night, but it doesn't go as planned. Surprisingly, things turn out very vanilla for their standards, with a lot of missionary, eye contact, and hand-holding. After 16 hours of non-stop action, they're both too exhausted to even think about getting creative.
Thank you @purrpleowl @watcherofeternalflame @canadianlucifer @aroromantic @malu897 @staticmothed @chaggieslovechild @gumm1defloor @mayflowersfly for your thoughts!
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itsmm4hiii · 11 months
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Workshopped Romance - K. Bakugou
Synopsis: Working for a hero costume designer has its perks like; meeting heroes, playing with cool technologies, getting you're name out- Y/n didn't  really expect her own boss will try and hook her up with a customer.  Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou X Female Reader
‘You know, you shouldn’t be thanking me Mr Bakugou. I haven't done anything- my young mentor has been working your case.’ 
His costume sits in a presentable bag with her infamous two dots. His fingers are wrapped loosely around the shoelace handles as it sits on the last rung of his finger tips. While he’s shocked about the news it doesn’t faze his exterior outlook. His eyes dart past  Nimaru Sasori, towards you as obvious exhilarating cherry red eyes set bare themselves deep into your flesh. 
Other fabrics pool in your arms, tediously heavy and beginning to drain what little muscles in your arms you had. You’re stopped, on a diagonal plain to him after hearing your mentor's words. Her hands dramatically waved to your presence. 
‘You should really discuss further advancements to her, not me, she’s a super star in this world- she’ll definitely surpass me!’ Her voice is whimsical, matches the triumphant emotions Midnight places into the string of her sentences, yet causes your face to go red as you wave over. 
You bow to him though he simply doesn’t acknowledge any power imbalance in the relationship between him and you. You were both the same age so respect was not necessary or demanded from either of you. She shares an excited look before running off from the chaos she started. 
‘Mr Bakugou it's a pleas-’ ‘No need for formalities, I haven’t done anything to deserve it as of yet.’ he cuts you off, ‘Uhm- Bakugou then. It’s a real pleasure working for you. Your comfort and aid for your quirk are my highest priority, I hope you do find it to your liking based on the information you’ve given us.’
Your eyes stare to the left, unable to make contact as your cheeks sear with redness. He makes no attempt to stare at anything else other than you. Your fingers fidget with the raw edge of the fabric trying to calm yourself down from an obvious explosion. 
‘Tell him what you’re thinking about his costume y/n! Tell him!’ Sasori interrupts, 
She acts as a living icebreaker if there was ever one. While it’s comforting that she breaks in every now and again this situation arose because of her.  She sits on a stool in the background watching the two of you as if it's some day romance drama where everyone already knows the ending but are still shocked when it happens and you have to wait till next week to find out what happens. Always leaving you on a cliffhanger. 
‘Uhm- well we are moving into the colder months now and since your quirk works on your sweat I recommend we move towards a costume with blast proof thermal wear, and perhaps a heat fabric that allows your arms to sweat but keeps the rest of your body at a manageable temperature.’ Your thoughts spewed out and by the time you had finished you released you had made the decision for him, your eyes snapped up to him flustered, ‘I’m sorry! It’s up to you it’s just a suggestion- If you don’t want it is fine it’s not like a big deal and I know it sounds like it will affect your overall quirk amount it probably might just decrease if by a few numbers and I just really don’t know the specifics of your quirk just the bare minimum and now i’m insulting you and I can’t stop tal-’ 
‘It’s fine…’ he grumbles, his hands placed into the pockets of his sweatpants, ‘If you think it’s important then do it.’ he sighs once more and his eyes drop to the floor in a nervous manner, ‘If it helps you, you can come to UA to watch me on Wednesday to better the knowledge you have on me-’ ‘IT’S A DATE!’ 
Interrupted by Sasori who cheers around you too, he just shakes it off and begins to head towards the door. 
‘Thanks Bakugou, I’ll see you Wednesday.’ 
With that he leaves with a soft nod and your attention and pent up aggression turns to your mentor. She giggles to herself and before you can shout out to her in what thought she got the idea to say it was a date she speaks. 
‘Aww the way he was staring at you… love at first sight at its finest’ 
Her hands clasp together, as she begins to sway reminiscing on moments she thought was love but it was rather a miscellaneous number of one night stands. Your shoulder hits as you walk past embarrassed and angered. Your head turns around arms sluggish as they’re filled with fabric. Perhaps she was true but you didn’t want to be delusional about something if it never was there in the first place. 
‘Get back to work.’ you grumbled.
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naomihatake · 11 months
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In search of freedom (Ch. 6)
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6. Where are you when I need you the most?
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⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist
⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7
⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.
Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa
Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)
Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)
Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)
A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.
I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3
The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".
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A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected. 
"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."
With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently. 
"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"
She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze. 
Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words. 
"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."
Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present. 
"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."
Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move. 
"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."
She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman. 
Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright." 
She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones. 
"You have no clue how much I wish you were right." 
It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue. 
Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him. 
The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance. 
She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant. 
She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again. 
Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart. 
Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned. 
Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife. 
He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed. 
No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—
But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented. 
Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades. 
The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks. 
The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision. 
The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy. 
The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife. 
Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch. 
Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings. 
Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image. 
Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear. 
The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze. 
Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady. 
Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back. 
It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there. 
The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth. 
His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend. 
Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not. 
Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth. 
He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji. 
With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:
"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."
The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest. 
The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy. 
Zoro. 
His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show. 
Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood. 
"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling. 
He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound. 
"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?" 
"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth. 
The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding. 
She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago. 
"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."
"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes. 
She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim. 
One more drop and she would lash out. 
Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side. 
"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."
Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away. 
"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice. 
The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully. 
"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?" 
With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes. 
"You could never fail me." 
The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread. 
"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting. 
The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away. 
With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky. 
"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums. 
One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second. 
"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry." 
She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could. 
The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword. 
"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him. 
Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp. 
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him. 
She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties. 
Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her. 
With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book. 
The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips. 
Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:
"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." 
"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered. 
The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her. 
"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."
She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option. 
"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud. 
"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly. 
The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale. 
"Nami."
Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face. 
Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably. 
"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."
She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck. 
"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."
The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued. 
"I know. You're planning betrayal."
The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—
"I didn't tell anyone."
"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response. 
"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."
The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body. 
"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."
Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts. 
"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"
"They definitely know more than me."
"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"
"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."
"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping. 
"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."
Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely. 
"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?" 
"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh. 
She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty. 
"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?" 
"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."
Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished. 
"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?" 
"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face. 
"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you." 
"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."
She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever. 
"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"
Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out. 
"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart." 
"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."
She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own. 
Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story. 
The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry. 
Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch. 
There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive. 
"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently. 
He was referring to Nami's telling. 
Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented. 
"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth. 
The witch knew where this conversation was heading. 
"Why does everybody keep saying that?" 
Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.
Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:
"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "
A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension. 
"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."
The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity.  Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.
At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.
"Nami," the witch intervened gently. 
"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again. 
"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."
Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek. 
"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."
Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me. 
"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face. 
Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him. 
"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream." 
God fucking dammit. 
"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke. 
"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?" 
"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice. 
"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."
When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot. 
"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."
Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn. 
He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze. 
"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."
His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance. 
Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?
"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."
Luffy scoffed. 
"You know I'm right."
"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."
"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."
She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room. 
Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position. 
She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person. 
Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice. 
"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being. 
She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it? 
Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.
Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.
At least he was alive, she continued telling herself. 
It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years. 
The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened. 
Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed. 
Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment. 
"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered. 
Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them. 
"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly. 
With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries. 
She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.  
"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?" 
A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes. 
That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories. 
"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then. 
"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman." 
At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met. 
And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings. 
A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret. 
The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about. 
"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."
Maybe he hears me. 
"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."
You're a crybaby, he should've said. 
Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories. 
"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."
Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy. 
"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."
Their home, because that place was never her home. 
"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."
Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later. 
"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."
She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens. 
"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps. 
She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart. 
A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter. 
She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend. 
"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."
There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish. 
Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees. 
She needed some fresh air. 
The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead. 
He will get better. He had to. 
She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife. 
On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere. 
The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone. 
"How is he?" 
"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.
She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together. 
"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?" 
"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own. 
"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled. 
"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables. 
"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!" 
Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat. 
However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—
The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue. 
A disgusting sensation, truly. 
She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.
But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt. 
She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.
Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly. 
Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter. 
"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared. 
"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."
The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice. 
"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."
Nami. 
The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing. 
The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice. 
"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul. 
The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction. 
"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state. 
She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass. 
"Where are you heading to?" 
The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock. 
"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch. 
That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment? 
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it." 
Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom. 
The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown. 
The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips. 
"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.
No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—
The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—
"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!" 
The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe. 
Who's Arlong? 
She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air. 
There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace. 
She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself. 
"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"
Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots. 
"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."
Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision. 
The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers. 
"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."
The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination. 
"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror. 
The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder. 
"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."
That's what scared Nami the most. 
The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes. 
"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."
She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—. 
Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away? 
The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face. 
For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro. 
•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•
The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide. 
She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong. 
"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display. 
He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course. 
"Me too," Luffy commented. 
Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—
What was she scared of? 
She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it. 
While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun. 
The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence. 
Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook. 
The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof. 
Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage. 
An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end. 
Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow. 
I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation. 
She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue. 
Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well. 
On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen. 
Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl. 
"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features. 
With a sigh, she grinned cheekily. 
"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow. 
"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters." 
Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total. 
With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her. 
"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."
"Even you hesitated for a second!" 
His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage. 
"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own." 
She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough. 
"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive." 
Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them. 
If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win. 
Then, an idea popped into her head. 
Their eyes. 
They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan. 
Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength. 
She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun. 
The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf. 
She had to pull herself together. 
"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled. 
"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second. 
There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists. 
Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight. 
But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady. 
And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan. 
Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought. 
She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.
"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl. 
She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat. 
Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound. 
Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant. 
The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread. 
Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever. 
Dammit. 
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misguidedasgardian · 1 year
Text
I want to steal the bride (2)
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2. Desserts, Yi-ti and old things
MASTERLIST
Summary: Aemond finds himself without you for the first time in ten years, so he starts to realize certain things 
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x BestFriend!Reader, Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Aemond goes around hehe, Criston is sort of a red flag, but that is nothing new, since its an adaptation of the movie, I will be using sort of stereotypes, and there are some jabs about marriage and married men in this part.
Wordcount: 3.8 k
Disclaimer: This is a direct adaptation of the movie “Made of honor” and its script! also the pictures of the header aren’t mine, I took them from Pinterest 
Notes: UPPSSSS
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It hasn't even been a week, and Aemond already missed you terribly, he had barely spoken to you, you whined with him about not getting service anywhere, and you were almost always disconnected from him
But he had his weekly meeting with his friends and his brother, and he was ready to play basketball and keep his mind off of things for a while
He met with his brother Aegon, and his friends Criston and Adam Velaryon 
“So, how was the old man’s wedding?”. teased Aegon
“You would have liked it, the bride I mean”, he muttered while tying up his laces of his shoes 
“What was this one? the fifth?”
“Sixth actually”, he said, Aegon chuckled
“For the gods!”, he laughed, “I’m guessing you went with Looooove”, he teased
“Yes, next wedding you go instead please”, he said seriously
“Oh please, you love to find any excuse to take her everywhere”, he mocked, they walk back towards the group and find the guys arguing
“I'm not gonna be able to play today, man. My back”, whined Addam
“If we don't have a fourth, we're gonna end up with Tiny Shorts Guy”, complained Criston
“How's it going?”, Larys Strong appeared with a basketball in his hands, he was known on the court for not being very handy with the ball, and for wearing booty shorts when he played, it was not pretty, “need another?”
“No, our friend Ramsay, with longer shorts, is coming”, said Aemond, he laughed and left, cleary not getting the hint
“No he is not coming!”, remembered Addam, Myranda signed him up for some art-walk thing”
“Art walk? Are you serious? Tell me something, what do you think Myranda did with his balls when she cut them off?”, mocked Criston
“Gods”, mocked Aemond, I go to art walks with (y/n) all the time”, he defended 
“Oh, come on, guys, marriage isn't that bad”, defended Addam
“I agree”, said Criston, playing with the ball in his hand, “without marriage, there'd be no divorce. So, without divorce, I wouldn't have my condo in the Vale”
“There you go”, laughed Aegon, “Good one” 
“I'm serious, man. You're missing out on the best parts of life”, continued the only current married man in the group, now speaking only to Aemond and Aegon, “the most important part of life”
“This coming from the guy whose wife won't let him go to bars”, said Aegon
“Hey, I thought we weren't gonna talk about that, huh?”, he said back, “and besides you are you to talk?”, asked Addam, annoyed, “you are single and you've been single ever since… What was her name, in sophomore year?”
“Um, Cer-, Cerse….Ceresse!” said Criston mockingly, everyone laughed, except for Aegon
“Ceresse, that's it!”, laughed Addam, “Ceresse dumped you for him sophomore year”, he mocked pointing at Aemond
“You've never been the same. You haven't been able to sleep”, mocked Addam
“Scarred”, mocked Criston
“Yeah. You have no idea how nice it is to have someone who's gonna be there for you, no matter what, forever”, concluded Addam
“And you don't know how nice it is to sleep with a different girl every night”, snapped Aemond
“That's true”, said Criston
“Nice rebuttal”, peached in Larys
“You know, you got the best of both worlds, Aemond”, said Criston
“It's true. I can sleep with whoever I want, but I still get to hang with (Y/N) afterwards. It's a perfect setup”, he said with the brightest of smiles, only thinking of you
“Well, maybe not for her”, muttered Addam, Aemond’s smile got wiped out pretty quickly
“What's that supposed to mean?”, he asked
“Come on, Aemond. She's a woman”, continued Aegon
“Yeah, I got that”
“You sure?”, mocked Criston
“Yeah”
“Dude, she's pushing 30. You think her idea of happily ever after is coming home to you and hanging out after you got laid?”, mocked Aegon, Aemond frowned 
“Makes you think, right?”, asked Larys, sneaking into the group
“Yeah”, nodded Addam
It did made him think
You had never shown yourself annoyed when he discussed his conquests with you, you loved hanging out with him on fridays, and… anytime, yes you were annoyed when he asked you to go to his grandfather’s weddings with him, but… anyone would, right?
With a sigh, he picked up the phone, and dialed you
It rang a couple of times, until you picked up
“Hello?”, he asked enthusiastically
“Hey”, you whispered lowly
“What’s going on?”, he asked, “were you sleeping?”, he mocked 
“Its very late here Aem”, you whined 
“How's the weather in White Harbor?”, he asked
“It's great. Only I'm in Winterfell”, he had woken you up, you were exhausted 
“Oh, right. Right”, his smile didn’t waver as he listened to your voice, “So, it's sunny”, he assumed 
“It's 3 in the morning”, you whined
“Oh, right. Sorry. So it's dark”, he said
“Yeah”
“Hey, have you seen the Big black wolf yet?”, he didn’t hear anything back, so he just dropped it, “I know, a terrible joke. Anyway…”
“Is there something important?”, you asked, falling asleep with phone in hand 
“Yeah, you'll never guess what happened”, he said with an enthusiastic tone
“What?”
“They filled in the pothole”, he said matter-of-factly
“The pothole?”, you asked, frowning
“On 83rd”
“Terrific. Hey, Aemond?”
“Yeah?”, he asked
“I'm gonna go back to sleep now”
“Oh, okay. Sure”, he said, finally catching on
“Love you”, you whispered, and Aemond jumped on his seat, it wasn’t the first time you had said it, but clearly it played with his mind
“Good night. Call me Tomorrow”, he said but you were already gone, and he hadn't said it back
He was more confused than before
He loves hearing your voice, and he missed you, but he didn’t know what to think, he didn’t even know what he was hoping for, what he expected with just one phone call, if that could give him more clearance 
It hadn’t
No, he shook his head, he couldn’t, no, he couldn’t
You were his best friend 
But his male friends were right, you… were a girl… a woman, you have had boyfriends before and it's not going to be long before you get another one, maybe one day you’ll get married…
The thought frightened him, he realized with surprise
The thought of being without you scared him to death
So he came to a conclusion…
A bad one…
He invited the last girl in his little black book, to meet her in the vintage store you both liked going to, it had to work… You were going to move on from him, and even though that scared him, he had to be prepared
He was with women all the time, he was going to prove everyone else wrong, he could get girl-friends….
“This stuff's all old”, Jeyne mumbled, looking everywhere, bored out of her mind
“Yeah. That's the point”, he answered, she looked back at him and shoot him a wink and a smirk
“Let's go to Fendi”, she said, perhaps it was a mistake to tell her how much he gained
“Fendi? No. No, no”, he said dismissively
“Yes!”, she shrieked 
“We're here. Let's just stay here”, he said, trying to convinced her
“I'm not into old stuff”, she whined like a little girl
“Why are you talking like a six-year-old?”, he said, immediately regretting his choice 
“I'm not”, she answered sharply
So the next day, he invited Floris to the famous bakery, to try his luck
“This line is too long. Can't we just go somewhere else?”, she asked, anoyyed
“No. This is the best bakery in the world. That's why it's worth waiting in line”, he said simply, but as she looked terribly annoyed, those stilettos she was weaning weren’t making her any favors to stay for two long on her feet, he tried a bit harder
“Come on, we'll play a game. Wanna play a game?”, that seemed to pick her interest
“Yeah, we can play a game”, she said, visibly more engaged
“Okay, good”, he said, now more confident, “Tell me what to order”, he teased
“Why?”, she asked back
“We are playing, that’s the game! you'll see. It'll be fun.Make a suggestion.
“A cookie”, she suggested
“No, no, you have to be specific, like what type of cookie?”, he pushed
“A really big cookie”
Alright this was a bad idea 
“Aemond, your phone's ringing”, said Alys Rivers, the girl he had been seeing every week, he ran back from the bathroom to pick it up, it was you! it had to be you
“Hello?”, he desperately asked into the phone, but there was no answer, only noise, “Hello?”, he asked, but no answer
“What's wrong?”, Alys asked when she say him sighing loudly and desperately
“Missed an important call”
“That's because you're an important person”, she teased. He looked at her, she was gorgeous, he liked having sex with her
“Do you like Yi-ti food?”, he asked curiously 
Half an hour later he was sitting on the same table he used to sit with you, and Alys was right in front of him
The cart was approaching and she smiled widely
“Hey, come to mama”, she giggled, “Uhh, we will have, um, two fried dumplings, two of the wontons, and six of the, uh, fried porky thingies”, she ordered
“Yeah, but that's fried”, he said, annoyed, once her order was on the table, she grabbed a fried piece with her chopsticks 
“Come on”, she teased
“It's not healthy”, he said seriously
“Have some of the fried. It won't hurt you”, she insisted, nearing the fried piece into his mouth. She dropped it, making the piece fall into his pants and staining them
She gasped apologetically
“Sorry…”
“Thank you”, he said, rolling his eyes
This was a bad idea 
It’s been weeks, he had dated, actually taken on dates, many women, and none of them, not one, had made him feel the way you do
He missed you
He realized there was no replacing you, there is no other woman he rather be with… and… that was driving him insane
So today he decided to calculate the hour properly, and call you early, it was nighttime still, but at a  night he knew you were going to be awake 
But it was a glitchy call, he knew it from the beginning
“Hello?”, he tried, rubbing his forehead
“Hey. Hello?”, your voice, so beautiful and melodic, it made Aemond feel like everything was well, like he was at peace, relaxed 
“Hello?”, he repeated, “Love?”
“Hello?”, you asked back
“Hey”, he said, excited of actually being able to talk with you
“Aemond? Aemond, is that you?”, you asked, “Aemond?”
“Hello?”, he asked, annoyed
You could barely hear him, you were on a two day trip to a castle on the outskirts of Winterfell, it started pouring, the road was a mess and you were surrounded by huge cows, they were everywhere
“Hello?”, you asked back, actually, the thought of hearing your best friend right now is just what you needed, but you couldn’t
“You're cutting out. I can't hear anything you've said”, you whined, “I'm stuck in a thunderstorm. I'm surrounded with a herd of cows. Listen, I'll call when I get to the hotel”, you tried to explain
“Love, I can't hear you”
“Aemond?”, you asked, “Hello?”
“Hello? Hello?”, you were interrupted, and hang up when someone knocked on the window of your car, you smiled apologetically, and found yourself in front of the most handsome man you had ever seen
“Oh Hello”
“You lost lass?”
. . .
“Oh, I hate Winterfell”, whined Aemond and threw his phone away to bag, it was basketball day again, and he need to get ready
But his mind was thousand of miles away
As the days passed he realized there was no other like you, you are the only one he liked to hang around with, he loved being with you, he… he loved you 
And the thought scared him
“C’mon C’mon C’mon!”, called Criston, but Aemond was barely able to move before Addam snatched the ball from him 
“We're having a hard time”, mocked Criston, “We're having a hard time”
“Oh, yeah? Want a hand?”, asked aegon, who got the bal and had no problem avoiding Aemond and threw a three pointer from half the court
“Give it up, baby”, he mocked
“Come on, Aemond. Aemond, Aemond”, called Criston, but Addam intercepted him
“Easy”, he mocked, Aemond tried to grab him, tired of failure
“Aemond, foul. That's a foul, Aemond”, called Aegon, “what's the matter with you today??”
“I don't know”, he whined, stopping in the middle of the court, “I think I might have feelings for (y/n)”
“Oh, come on, come on. Let's just play”, mocked Criston, but Aegon and Addam shared concerned looks 
“It's just... without her, something's off”, he explained, like it pained him, “It's got me thinking that, maybe, there's more to life than just sleeping around”
“I don't understand”, said Criston
“I-I'm not following”, muttered Aemond
“Come on, let's just play”, dismissed Aemond 
“I know exactly what you mean, Aemond”, said Addam with a shy smile on his face. Aegon and Criston shared concerned looks and passed the ball to each other
“I'm gonna tell her, when she gets home… I'm gonna tell her that I wanna be with her”, he said with a wide smile, “nothing about marriage, just be together”, Addam’s smile wiped out pretty quickly
“Yeah, that's romantic”, mocked Aegon
From hare, and for the next few weeks he still had ahead of him without you, he could breathe a bit more easy
. . . 
You have one unheard message.
A message from you! Aemond was so excited when he heard it
“Hey, Aem, I'm back. Gods, I cannot wait to see you! I don't care what you're doing tonight, cancel it. We're going to dinner”,  he smiled at the sound of your voice, this was going to be perfect, he knew exactly what he was going to say. “Meet me at that new trendy place next to the small Bravoosi  place we hated that used to be the Mantari-fusion place we loved. Meet me there, at 8 o'clock. I have so much to tell you!”
He had heard the voice message like eight times already while ha changed clothes, he was so so excited, he had his apartment cleaned, his suits pressed, his cologne, - the one you liked- stocked, his hair fixed, tonight, he was going to tell you that he had feeling for you, that he wanted to explore it further
With any luck, he was going to take you back to his palace for the night
You were going to be the first woman even going up there
And he was okay with that 
He entered the new place, it was very nice, as could turn into a date kinda nice, he looked at the flowers he bought on the street for you, and took a long breath as he told your name to the receptionist who led them to the back of the restaurant 
And there you were, gorgeous, like always
He could recognize you everywhere, anywhere 
But as he catched your glance and you smiled at him, you look back to someone else, and there it was, some guy, tall handsome, he hadn't seen him, instead he hugged you and kissed your neck
Fuck no
No no no no
Who was that?
he got so distracted that he didn’t see the waiter coming at him at full speed
They clashed scandalously, plates flew as the flowers and Aemond fell to the ground, not very elegantly, on top of the poor waiter
“AEMOND!”, you called, running to him. He was whining on the floor, “Aemond. You okay?”, you asked sweetly
“I'm all right. Are you all right?”, he asked, turning to the waiter who was moaning and wheezing in pain
“I think I broke a rib”, you helped Aemond up from the floor, and he smiled apologetically at you 
“His rib. I'm fine. I'm fine”, said Aemond, helping the poor waiter up on his feet, he was fine, he hoped 
“Are you okay?”, you asked to Aemond
“I'm so sorry”, muttered Aemond, the manager approached you
“I'm sorry, sir. Here are your flowers”, she said apologetically, trying to grab them front he floor
“Oh, but…”
“You had flowers?”, you asked him
“No, they're not my flowers”, he said dismissively
“They're your flowers. Those are yours”, said the waiter, grabbing his side
“I didn't have flowers”, fought Aemond, grabbing you softly and walking away from the scene. He finally turned to you and smiled
“Hi. It's good to see you”, he purred softly, his eye shining excitedly
“I missed you”, you admitted, hugging him quickly, “there's someone I want you to meet”
Aemond wanted to be the one that broke a rib
“Oh, good”, he said, not expecting you to notice the change in his demeanor 
“Aemond, this is Cregan”, there it was, this tall, handsome, beautiful man
“oh”, they shook hands, and Aemond didn’t know what to think
So fifteen minutes later, with a drink in hand, Aemond was pinching his own leg under the table, because he wanted to scream 
“It started pouring and suddenly it was just me in a field of cows…”, you laughed, Aemond watched in horror the way you were looking at that man, “of course, we're in the North there are no street signs anywhere and it's getting dark…”
“I think she thought she was in some bad werewolf movie”, he chipped in, and Aemond even hated to hear the sound of his voice, "Stay off the moors, lassie.", he continued
He only had eyes for you
“So, anyway, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Cregan comes riding up on horseback”, your eyes are finally back on him, so he had to muster a weird smile. You laughed excitedly, Aemond had never seen you like that, “Can you believe it?”, you asked him “A horse! And asks me if I need any help”
“Wow!”, he said, faking it, not that you’d notice 
“You were a lady in distress. What was I gonna do?”, he said, Aemond wanted to throw up
Dammit Cregan, we are in a public place! Aemond was sure that if a policeman would have been here he would have arrested him, for public indecency and being a creep
“It was right out of a Valyrian novel”, you said lovingly, you could see that Aemond wasn’t that invested, so you smiled at him, what he had said that you where a “love slut” came back to you, “So, anyway, he shows me to this charming little inn where he proceeds to buy me the most awful dinner I have ever had”, you said, with a bitter taste in your mouth
Probably Aemond thought this was stupid, that you were being silly 
“Right. Okay. Aye. It was pretty bad, even by Northerner standards”, Cregan agreed with you
“Then, we just spent the next month traveling around the country, getting to know each other, and visiting museums. It was…”, you sighed, looking into Cregan’s eyes
“It was perfect”, he said right there with you, looking into yours
“So, when it was time for (y/n)  to leave, I just… I don't know, I just… I couldn't let her go”, Cregan finally found it in himself to look at Aemond
“Ah…”, he muttered
“So, I got down on one knee…”, you smiled widely, showing Aemond your hand, and the huge rock that decorated your ring finger
“And he proposed, and I accepted”, you said excitedly
Aemond was never a man who let himself be controlled by his emotions, that being said, he never thought he even had a nervous breakdown, or a panic attack… until now
He felt his heart beating sot wrongly he thought he was going to pass out 
“Wow, that's just… It's huge, it's…”, he couldn’t stand it, his legs were getting numb
“So, the wedding's coming together very quickly”, you continued
Oh suit fuck, shit, he started looking for the emergency exit, couldn’t find it anywhere 
“Ah, it sounds like it”, he managed to say, his mouth was dry
“We're gonna get married in Winterfell, at Cregan's parents' summer home”, you continued, another nail on his coffin
“It's gonna be a pretty small thing. We can't expect too many people to make the trip overseas in just a fortnight”, Cregan chipped in
“A fortnight”, he said, trying to calm himself
“Right!”, you said
“That's two weeks”, he said seriously
“It's crazy, isn't it?”, you asked him, he seemed to notice how incredibly nervous you were
“Have you ever been to Winterfell, Aemond?”, asked Cregan
“You know, I haven't”, he said, trying to smile, but his cheeks were numb too
“You should see the little church where we're exchanging our vows in”, that smile on your face, Aemond’s heart broke, if he could be the one that caused it, it was so beautiful and bright, filled with love, “It's the same church that Cregan's parents were married in”
“It's pretty spectacular. Just across the loch from our distillery”, of course
“Distillery?”
“Yeah, Cregan's family owns the largest whisky distillery in the North”, you said with a knowing smile
Did you expect him to like this Cregan person?
“Aemond, look…”, oh shit, he thought, “If you were getting married I'd expect to be your best man”, you said surely, and he paled even more, “Aemond… will you be my maid of honor?”, you asked excitedly 
“Your maid of honor?”, he asked, it felt like the knife this Cregan guy had plunged into him, was being twisted, he got up, he needed to get out of this place, he needed to run,t o scream to
He turned and BAM
He crashed against the same waiter, both ended up in the floor covered in some warm soup
“Oh, I'm so sorry”, he whined
“WHAT IS IT WITH YOU MAN?”, he screamed high pitched
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taglist!
@snh96 @sagelovesreading @toodlesxcuddles @ammo23 @bananzaa @ttkttt @at-a-rax-ia
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darlingmbappe · 2 years
Text
The Loneliest [2] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader
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[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]
Summary: The transition period after calling off your engagement has broken both you and Kylian. He needs to have you back, but you can’t handle having your heart broken again.
Warnings: pure angst, heartbroken reader, heartbroken Kylian, cussing, lots of crying. I switched perspectives between the reader and Kylian. — English is not my first language —
Kylian had racked up quite a large amount late fees the following month after your breakup. He never used to have issues going to sleep at night or waking up to go to training before this, but he just let himself scroll through his camera roll for hours on end.
He would emerge himself in that reality, smiling, giggling whenever your digital image did something goofy. He remembered which outfits he helped you pick out, fixating his thoughts on the ‘K’ necklace that he gave you shining around your neck in every frame. Then, due to the fault of a notification or a car alarm going off, he would snap back into the reality of his new life.
These are just memories now. He wouldn’t be able to take your picture again, hear your grainy morning voice, make your coffee so perfectly that you’d hum in gratitude.
Achraf knew about the breakup, but Kylian asked him to keep it hush since he didn’t feel like talking about it most of the time. Some nights, though, he finds himself on the phone with his mother without thinking about the fact that it’s past 2 o’clock in the morning. She (of course) picks up every time, being there for her little boy with a broken heart, her own heart breaking with the thought of you not coming around anymore.
Today, he made it to training just on time, barely smiling at the PSG camera crew that follows them around. Usually if somethings bothering him, football is his medicine. He goes out, distracts himself by making goals and perfect tackles, but it wasn’t until you were gone that he realized he needed you there to bring it all together. He hated how codependent he had become, sometimes subconsciously wishing he’d never met you at all. Maybe then his heart wouldn’t feel like it was being ripped out piece by piece.
“Okay, seriously?” Glatier grunted, blowing the whistle after Kylian had missed yet another easy goal. “Kylian!” He called over. Kylian cussed under his breath and jogged over to the frustrated coach, his teammates just as frustrated with him for his performance recently. “What the hell is going on with you? Where’s your head at?!”
Kylian looked at his feet, hands resting on his hips. “Sorry, coach.”
“No, not ‘sorry’, Kylian. You’ve been somewhere else for weeks. I need you to explain yourself before we start benching you.”
Kylian bit his cheek, still focused on the pitch under his feet, begging his body to suck the lingering tears back in. He looked up at his awaiting coach, nodding. “There’s no excuse, coach. I’m right here, I’ll do better.”
Glatier looks at him apprehensively, expecting to hear how the pass wasn’t placed right or some other bullshit that Kylian used to blame his shortcomings on, but notes that something is definitely off with the star player. “Alright, then.” He says, keeping eye contact, blowing the whistle twice, sending everyone to do a different drill.
Kylian sniffles as he runs back toward his team, Hakimi pats him on the back upon seeing his glossy eyes.
You had been a mess yourself, occupying yourself with your own job. Coworkers started calling you a hard ass once you decided to take charge of the group meetings, having to have control of something ever since your love life vanished. They were also oblivious to the fact of you and Kylians breakup, feeling as if the news was better off left to his PR team.
You’d settled nicely into the hotel life, enjoying complimentary breakfasts and free valet parking, but finally found a move-in ready apartment close to the office. It’d been a nightmare having your entire life packed into your car, taking up every ounce of room you had in there. There were times you convinced yourself that you were fine, but realized it was just a lie every night when you popped a sleeping pill and craved looking into Kylians eyes. You resorted back to his Instagram so often, clicking the same post every time.
The night you left, Kylian posted something for your birthday. At first, you ignored the notification, deleting the app altogether. That lasted about an hour. You redownloaded it once your curiosity took control of your body, having to know what the hell your newly-ex fiancé tagged you in. You assumed at some point he’d take it down, but it’s been thirty four days and it’s still the last thing on his feed.
You laid in the neatly made hotel bed, your fingers doing their own thing, rereading his caption until you heard your heart crack — like it did every time you found yourself here.
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@k.mbappe: To the love of my life; you’re the best things that’s ever happened to me. Sometimes I can’t even believe how lucky I got. Getting to know you and getting to love you was the biggest privilege of my whole life. I hope this year gives you everything you need. I will love you always. — Ky.
You think back to the night that photo was taken a lot. It was at Neymar’s New Years Eve party, a few months before he proposed. Kylians hand was permanently attached to your waist. He looked at you every time something funny was said, wanting to laugh with you. He bragged about your accomplishments to everyone there — as if anyone in the room wasn’t more impressive than you, seeing models and athletes around every corner. At some point, you’d lost him and the clock was ticking down, five minutes until midnight. As you turned down a hallway, you heard his voice coming from one of the rooms.
“She’s the one.” Kylian stated, a giggle following right after. You never meant to eavesdrop on him but now you had to — back pressed against the wall as you tipped your ear closer to the open door.
“Man, she’s awesome.” Neymar’s voice responded.
“I know. I can’t ever stop smiling.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s creepy.” They both laugh, you bit your lip to keep yourself from squealing. Neymar continues. “You deserve someone great like her.”
Kylian pauses, you wait for him to say something. “What if I fuck it up?”
You feel your heart tug at his insecurity, but stop yourself from running in there and kissing him until the silly thought leaves his head. “You won’t. I can tell that she loves you a lot. Just, show her how you feel about her every day and you can’t fuck it up.”
The lull in the conversation gives you time to skip into the room. They both look at you and smile, Kylians eyes shining with love as you make your way to sit on his lap by the window.
“There you are.” You kiss his crinkled cheek. “Been looking for you. It’s almost midnight.”
He hums and pulls you closer to him.
“Aww!” Neymar teases in an exaggerated tone, standing from his place and whips out his phone, snapping a candid picture of the two of you. “What a cute couple.”
You quickly closed the app, throwing your phone far away from you on the bed.
“Fuck that.” You cried, stuffing your face in the mattress to collect your tears. You were so angry at him, but you wanted to talk to him. Slap him. Kiss him. Make him regret everything.
Your feelings have never been so crossed in your life. Of course you knew ending your relationship would be hard, but not debilitating. You didn’t expect to have to find new ways to not think about Kylian. How are you going to do this forever? Will this crippling coldness ever leave you alone? The signs all point to Kylian, but you don’t even know if he’ll be up to talking.
Blocking his number was an easy decision. While you were confident that you made the right move at the time, it doesn’t feel that way anymore. You reached back and grabbed your phone, settling down and wiping any remaining tears from your face.
The amount of times you’ve unblocked Kylian probably has broken some sort of record. You’ve been to really low places in the past few weeks, but the fake it ‘till you make it mantra somehow found it’s way into your system, hearing it buzzing in your ears like an annoying fruit fly.
Clicking the unblock button was simple. Trying to find something to say was beyond difficult.
You typed and backspaced and typed and backspaced until you were ripping your hair out. It was either too weird or too forward, but all of it was too scary.
Almost half an hour had passed, still trying to manage some sort of communication with him. Everything felt wrong, maybe today wasn’t the day. Just as you were about to reblock him, your phone buzzed.
Kylian: hello?
Shit. Of course he decided to text you right when you unblock him.
While you were freaking out about this turn of events, Kylian was holding his breath. When he saw the three dots appearing and disappearing on his phone screen over and over again, he felt like he struck gold. He just needed some way back into your life. And although small, this was an opportunity he couldn’t ditch out on.
You stared at the message, trying to take deep breaths. You should be chill. You’d texted Kylian a gazillion times in your life, but considering the circumstances, panic seemed fitting.
“Okay, (Y/N). Pull it together.” You mumbled to yourself, clearing your throat.
(Y/N): hi
You sent the message quick with no time to think twice. You facepalmed, now overthinking those two little letters. You waited impatiently for his reply. He was taking too long for your liking, but the time displayed at the top of your screen hadn’t moved. Not even a minute passed before he said something back.
Kylian: so you decided to unblock me?
Kylian: how are you?
He didn’t give you a chance to really respond to his first question, so it was easy to ignore it. But the second question had much more weight behind it.
How are you? Really?
You were tempted to type back ‘like my soul was sucked out and repeatedly backed over by a semi truck full of loaded diapers’, but that seemed like a bit much.
(Y/N): I’ve definitely been better.
You waited again, wondering if you should ask him how he’s doing, too. You saw the typing bubbles, but they disappeared. Once, twice, three times until he finally messaged back.
Kylian: did you want to talk?
You sighed, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. Fuck. Why did he have to ask that? Of course you wanted to talk — but this seems like the beginning of a very slippery slope. Going back to him was exactly what you wanted. You wanted to take him back and hug him and kiss his stupidly plump lips until you couldn’t anymore.
At the same time, you’re so vulnerable right now. You knew that taking him back this quickly would definitely cause an issue; whether it just be second guessing yourself or realizing you were wrong, and leaving him twice was something your heart absolutely could not handle.
Kylian: im sorry if that was too forward
You didn’t realize how long you were lost in thought for. You looked down at the message taunting you in your lap, sighing.
You: no, it’s fine.
You: when are you free?
You didn’t know it, but Kylian, Hakimi, and Ramos all jumped up and cheered when you sent that message. They shook his shoulders around in excitement, all too invested in the young couples relationship.
“Vamos!” Screamed Ramos, hugging the group.
“Okay, okay, shut up!” Kylians smile wrinkled his eyes shut for the first time in forever, sitting back down on the training bench.
Ramos happened to walked by when Kylian was crying to Hakimi, which Kylian was super embarrassed about, but Ramos was a genuinely good friend of the two of you, so now he felt personally affected by this breakup.
“Come on, quickly. What do I say?”
“That you are free tonight. Dios mío.” Ramos tusked like it was the most obvious thing in the world… and it was.
Kylian: tonight after training?
Kylian: I can pick you up, we can go get some dinner?
(Y/N): how about I just meet you at the training center?
There was no way you’d allow for this to be a date. If you let him wine and dine you, your heart would melt into a puddle that spelled out his name.
Kylian: perfect, cant wait
Kylian: I’ll see you later
You smiled down at your phone, putting a thumbs up to his last message and shut it off. Allowing your smile to finally spread across you face, you breathed out a giant huff that weighed down your lungs.
The happiness passed quickly, your mind remembering the way he was before. Aloof, distracted, snappy… You we’re still holding onto the old Kylian. The one that took you on spontaneous picnics, the one who would pull over on the side of the highway on his way home and hand-pick you a bouquet because the wildflowers looked pretty, the one that never forgot to kiss you goodnight, even if he was already asleep when you crawled in next to him.
The expectations for tonight were all over the place. Your mind raced with the possibilities of how it would end. Would you lower you walls for him again? Are you even capable of that? He hurt you down to your core, his actions broke you down into an insecure shell of yourself.
The end of the day came, and by now, the word had spread to the rest of the team about the breakup. Glatier patted Kylian on the back in sympathy, giving him a wise coach speach about life and love — one that didn’t really help Kylian. It was actually rather confusing. Nonetheless, he thanked his elder, mentally noting it’s best if he just sticks to coaching football.
Neymar was shaken by the news, having taken a liking to you early on in your relationship with Kylian. When he asked Kylian what was bothering him so much lately, he breathed out a heavy, “nooo!”. Comforting his teammate felt nostalgic for them both because their own relationship went through a sort of breakup at one point.
Kylian felt the end of the day inching closer and closer. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you. It was important for him that he doesn’t say anything to scare you away. He wants you to see that he’s sorry and that he’s ready to prove it to you. He wants to make you laugh, make you remember that he is capable of making you happy again.
Kylian smelled better right now than he ever did after practice. He scrubbed like a maniac, fixing his hair with precision, shaving and applying after shave. He finished off with some cologne that Verratti suggested, a cool jacket that Kimpembe let him borrow. He drew the line when Sergio came for his eyebrows with tweezers, doing a nervous final check in the full length mirror. Breathing deep, he opens up his messages.
Kylian: im almost done :)
Kylian: let me know when ur here
He watched the screen, waiting for you to respond with anything. The three dots popped up again, halting his breathing when your message appeared.
(Y/N): I’m here. Come meet me by the maintenance entrance.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was rushing out of the locker room with anticipation taking over his veins, his knuckles turning white against the material of his duffle bag. He felt like he was going to throw up from nerves, but the good kind of nerves — the kind he has before an important match.
Where you were meeting him was his little hidden area. The maintenance crew got an upgraded break room with a patio, so no one ever came out this way, leaving the picnic tables open for when he needed a sneaky break. He brought you out here multiple times when you came and visited, always insisting on making out before he would go back inside.
This door always got stuck. He remembers having to shoulder it every time. He prepared himself, stepping back before lunging his body forward. Next thing he knows, he’s landed on the cold cement, letting out a loud “oof” when he went down.
“Oh my god!” He heard your sweet voice from a distance, looking up and seeing you, sideways from his position. The wind was already knocked out of him, but wow, watching you running in his direction took his breath way. “Are you okay?”
He got himself up when you approached him, he brushed himself off cooly. “When the hell did they oil that door?” Kylian points.
You stare at him before you let a small laugh bubble out, immediately getting Kylian to join in. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed by his less than cool entrance, but mentally checks off the make her laugh box in his head.
Damn, he looks good, you thought to yourself. You kept it at bay, but you noticed how he cleaned up extra nice, tugging at your heartstrings. You can’t lie, you also spent way too long on your appearance.
“Hello,” he smiles, raking his eyes adoringly over your frame. He didn’t even notice himself inching closer to you, but you did. It made you hot under the collar just being around him again. You’d been away from him longer than a month before, but this was hard.
You gulp. “Hi.”
He set his duffle bag down on the picnic table. You had his full attention, every word he’s wanted to say to you just on the tip of his tongue. You made your way over to the bench and slowly sat down, him following suit, sitting a little closer than you wanted him to.
You scooted away slightly. “Let’s talk.” You say. He nods, turning his body toward you. “I have to be at work soon so I can’t stay long.”
His leg bounces. “Can I start?”
“Okay.”
His gaze locked on your delicate hands, wanting nothing more then to hold them tightly. He breathed deep, his nerves felt electric in his veins. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I fucked up and realized it too late. I should have noticed, but I didn’t. And I’m so sorry for that. For everything.” His words were slow and gentle, his eyes not knowing where to look as they bounced from your eyes to you hands to your lips, then back to your eyes again. “I’m miserable without you. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, (Y/N).”
You sigh. “I miss you too, Kylian. Believe me, this hasn’t been easy for me, either. But, I’m not here to get back together with you. I can’t let myself do that.”
“Why?”
“Because…” You really wished you planned this talk out better because right now, you were letting your emotions run on autopilot. Yet, you kept your logical side steady on the breaks in case your heart decided it needed his comfort more than it needed peace. “Because, Kylian. I just can’t.”
You felt the anger inside of you rising to the surface. You stood up and began pacing. Kylian stood too, but his feet were frozen in place.
“You know, I didn’t even know you still loved me until I was leaving?” You stated, facing his ashamed demeanor. He opened his mouth to respond but you didn’t let him. “You made me feel like shit. For months. You drove this… this weird insecurity in me that was never there before. I couldn’t even talk to you about it because you’d just spin it on me. Do you know how shitty that feels?”
His head hung low, guilt overriding his every sense. For whatever reason, he had high expectations for how this was going to go, and it’s already not at all how he thought. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. You never deserved that.”
“You’re fucking right, I didnt.” You snapped, brows knit tightly in anger. “Why did you change? What happened? What did I do to you that made you so angry at me?”
Kylian opened and closed his mouth, stuttering. “I…” Seeing the tears gloss your eyes brought his own forward, but he bit them back. “… I don’t know. Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”
You stared at him, sighing. You ran a hand over your cheeks once you felt some stray tears run down your face. Nodding, you sat back down, Kylian cautiously joined you further down the bench. His elbows were on his knees, eyes facing the pavement. Silence used to be comfortable with Kylian. You two could sit together for hours and not say a word, and it would feel so natural. Now, the air was thick with tension, every depressing emotion running full speed inside your loud mind.
“You remember that benefit dinner we went to in November? The one held by that super rich Fortune 500 guy?” You asked softly, breaking the silence. “That week was when I started doubting if we were even good together anymore. You hadn’t payed attention to me, touched me, listened to me in weeks. I thought it was me. That I was somehow fucking up everything we had.” Kylian listened through the sound of his pounding heart, not daring to look up. He could hear in your voice how deeply upset you were, he couldn’t take the look on your face. “I tried talking to you about it that morning. I was going to ask if you wanted to take a break… have some time to ourselves. Instead, you just turned it into a fight about me leaving the dishwasher open, or some shit like that. I ended up apologizing to you.” You chuckled, but it really wasn’t funny.
Kylian remembered, having been stressed about his difficult new physical therapy sessions. He took out his frustrations on you unfairly, but he didn’t realize that he was doing that until it was too late.
You continued. “I dressed up so nice for you that night. I wore that gorgeous blue dress you got for me, heels that absolutely killed my feet, I got my hair and makeup done by real professionals… I thought maybe I could at least get you to want me again. But, all night long, you pretty much ignored me. You only smiled at me when other people were around and you didn’t want to look like a dick. I loved it, though. It felt like the old days, when you would actually smile when I was around.”
His lip quivered, still not being able to lift his head toward you. You wanted to keep going, but knew what you were going to say next was going to hurt him and it was never about getting even. You didn’t want to put him through what he made you feel. Reluctantly, you knew you had to tell him. You had to do it for you.
“That whole night, you kind of ignored me. I had the thought that you wouldn’t even notice if I disappeared… so I did. I was on the balcony for like, an hour. All by myself. Watching you from the outside to see if you started looking for me, and you never did.” You paused to take a breath, fiddling with your thumbs. “I didn’t think I would ever tell you this, but what do I have to lose, right?” He looked up, eyes red. You looked away. “It wasn’t on purpose, but… that night, Erling Haaland and I had a great time.” You locked eyes with him when he shifted, his whole demeanor changing from apologetic to full protection mode.
“What? What do you mean?” He attempted to keep his voice clear of obvious anger, but you knew him too well.
“No, no. Not like that.” You clarified. “He came out there for a breather and saw me. I don’t think he knew who I was or that we were together—”
“Bullshit.” He mumbled, but you ignored him.
“We just laughed and talked about the last season. Nothing happened, I wouldn’t do that to you.” You weren’t going to mention how he asked for your number at the end of the night because that would send him into a spiral. “Look, I’m not telling you this to be cruel, or anything, but it’s just an example of how alone I felt… that I would spend an entire night talking with Erling Haaland of all people. He payed more attention to me that night than you did for months. It made me remember how much fun we used to have. It made me realize that you might not be that person for me anymore.” Your voice wobbled and Kylian squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his tears back in with a sharp and deep breath.
He couldn’t believe you never told him about this, but reminded himself that he wouldn’t let you. He was too cold, too defensive.
“I promise you, (Y/N) — even if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get you back.” He swore through his wavering voice, still attempting to hold back his cries. You saw his twitching face, surfacing your own emotions.
You couldnt hold it back anymore, placing your face in your palms, letting the sobs go freely. “You’re a stupid fucking dickhead, Mbappé.” It was vulgar, but it’s just what shot out of your mouth.
Kylian knew he deserved that and more, just nodding at the new nickname, beginning to let himself cry as well. “I’m gonna change. If you let me show you, I’ll never stop proving to you how much I love you.” He grabbed your hand, tightly grasping it and kissing your knuckles.
“I think…” you sniffle, watching Kylian as he squeezed your hand in his, resting it on his face. “I think I need more time, Kylian.”
Immediately he nods, scooting closer to you. “We have time, baby. I’ll wait for you to be ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”
You and Kylian continue to cry, together. This kind of vulnerability is what you’ve been craving from him, this is the kind you had before.
“Kylian, I can’t handle having my heart broken again.” You choke. He holds you close now, forehead resting on the side of your head.
“I won’t ever be that person again.” He promised, sniffling. “I’ve never hurt this badly before. I’m not putting either of us through this torture again.”
You nod, wiping your tears and trying to calm down a little before standing up, leaving Kylian sitting alone on the bench.
“If I’m even going to entertain the idea of getting back together… we’re starting over completely. Right from the start.” You point, feeling yourself stop crying and using your sleeve to get rid of any proof that you were an absolute trainwreck.
He nods, standing up. “Okay. I can do that.” It looks like a burst of good energy just shot it’s way into his body, but the nervous demeanor stood above it, cautiously watching your every move.
“This doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. I need to know it’s the right decision. It’s too hard.”
“Of course. I’ll do anything.” You can tell Kylian is holding back from hugging you by the way his feet tap toward you, his body swaying in your direction.
You look him over, breathing in the crisp air. “Okay.” You check your watch, noticing you’ll be late if you don’t leave in the next five minutes. “I have to go now.” You say, nodding an awkward goodbye to Kylian; hugging felt like it would be weird… a handshake even weirder.
“Wait.” He stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and quickly pulling it back. “Am I allowed to ask you on a date now?”
You chuckle, a real one this time. “Um. Let’s wait a couple of weeks. I need some more time to process all of this. Besides, I’m moving on Friday so I’ll be pretty busy unpacking, so…”
He’s taken aback, quirking an eyebrow and trying to not looked too freaked out. “Wait… moving? Where?”
“Some place I found. It’s fine… close to the office.” You honestly didn’t love it, but it was cute. It had character. “The hotel life was getting too expensive.”
“Let me pay for that–”
“No. Non-couples don’t do that.” You say, checking the time again, walking backwards toward you car. “Look, I really have to go. Wait for me to text you, alright?”
He nods, watching your figure disappear in the dark parking lot. “I will.”
He didn’t take his eyes off your car until it was out of his sight, turning back the way he came in.
The time has come for him to cheer, celebrate, tell all of his friends… but he won’t. He might’ve managed his way back into your life, but he’s nowhere near out of the woods yet. Everyone knows how embarrassing early celebrations are, especially when they they miss the goal in the end. He’s not making that mistake. He’s just grateful for the new opportunity to prove to you that it’ll be worth it… that he’s worth it. You’ll be treated better than ever… as soon as you’re comfortable with him again.
So, no celebration for Kylian Mbappé… not counting the giddy grin and small fist pump he did when he was alone in his car.
He couldn’t stop himself. He really couldn’t.
897 notes · View notes
songbirdseung · 5 months
Text
from the sidelines / nishimura riki
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synopsis: after a failed attempt to chase your dreams to debut as a kpop artist, you left to pursue another career. but what's going to happen when your friend invites you to an award show and you meet your old fling?
pairing: riki x reader
warnings: failed careers, ex flings, lmk if i missed anything
wc: 740
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The dreams she once cradled in her heart had shattered like glass, leaving behind slivers of hope that she struggled to hold onto. Her journey to become a K-pop artist had been tumultuous, marked by setbacks and heartbreaks that seemed insurmountable.
The practice room was suffocating, the air thick with tension as Yn struggled to keep up with the demanding choreography. Her limbs felt like lead, refusing to obey the commands of her racing mind.
"You're off-beat again, Yn," the instructor's voice cut through the haze of frustration, his disappointment like a dagger to her heart.
"I'm sorry," Yn muttered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
The other trainees exchanged knowing glances, their silent judgment weighing heavily on her shoulders.
As the years passed, Yn found refuge in a new career, one that embraced her passion for storytelling. But the echoes of her abandoned dreams lingered in the corners of her mind, a constant reminder of the roads she dared not tread again.
It was a casual invitation from an old friend that thrust her back into the world she had once yearned to conquer. An award show, she was told, a celebration of talent and perseverance. Reluctantly, she agreed, unaware of the storm that awaited her.
"Come on, Yn, it'll be fun! Just like old times," Sarah pleaded, her eyes wide with excitement.
Yn hesitated, her heart heavy with memories she had long tried to bury. "I don't know, Sarah. I've moved on from all of that."
Sarah's expression softened, understanding flickering in her eyes. "I know, but this could be your chance to see how far you've come. Please, just give it a chance."
With a sigh, Yn relented, the tug of nostalgia pulling her towards a past she had fought so hard to leave behind.
The grandeur of the venue mirrored the grandiosity of the dreams that once consumed her. Surrounded by flashing cameras and swirling whispers, Yn felt like a ghost wandering through memories long buried.
And then, amidst the sea of faces, she saw him. Riki. The boy whose laughter had once danced in harmony with hers, whose touch had ignited a fire within her that she thought would never dim.
Except now, he was no longer the boy she remembered. He stood tall and confident, bathed in the spotlight of his success. As a member of ENHYPEN, he had ascended to heights that Yn could only dream of.
Their eyes met across the crowded room backstage, and for a fleeting moment, time stood still. In his gaze, Yn saw traces of the past, of a love that had once burned bright but had long since turned to ash.
When he approached her, his smile was like a bittersweet melody, stirring memories she had buried deep within her heart.
"Yn," he said, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's been a long time."
Yn nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from him. "Yes, it has."
They exchanged pleasantries, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between them.
"I never thought I'd see you here," Riki said, his eyes searching hers for answers she couldn't give.
"I never thought I'd come," Yn admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
As the night wore on, Yn found herself drawn to him, unable to resist the pull of their shared history.
"We were so young back then," Riki said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Do you ever think about what could have been?"
Yn hesitated, memories flooding her mind like a torrential downpour. "Sometimes," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.
In the quiet moments between conversations, Yn saw glimpses of the boy she had loved, the one who had once believed in her when she could not believe in herself.
"I'm proud of you, Yn," Riki said, his words like a balm to her wounded soul.
And as the final notes of the night faded into the darkness, Yn made her peace with the ghosts of her past. For in the heartache and the longing, she had found closure, a silent acknowledgment of the roads they choose and the ones they dare not tread again.
And as she watched him disappear into the night, Yn knew that their story was not meant to be a fairy tale. Instead, it was a chapter in the tapestry of their lives, a fleeting moment captured in the echoes of a dream.
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slut4thebroken · 1 year
Text
bite me
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jason Todd x vampire!reader
Summary | Jason is an annoying little shit who likes to tease you.
Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, cutting? (barely), blood drinking, oral (male receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, hand job, praise, degradation w a sprinkle of humiliation, flirting, kissing, grinding, bad puns.
Words | 4.7 k
Notes | Idk I had a vision one day and this is what came of it. (Also this is part 29373928 of me not being able to find a good gif/pic for Jay 😔)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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You’ve never been an optimist. Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a glass half empty view of the world. There’s no specific reason why, that’s just how you are. Which is why if someone told you you’d be working with crime fighting vigilantes, you would’ve laughed in their face. 
People are bad. That’s what you’ve learned so far in your 40 years of life. People are bad and there’s no saving them. “That doesn’t mean we can’t save the good ones from the bad.” He had said. “What good ones?” You asked, but the more you thought about it, the more you understood what he meant. 
That’s how you found yourself working with the bat. Or more specifically, the bat boys. Mostly Dick and Jason though. 
Mostly Jason. 
You tried not to think too hard about that. When you first met, you just clicked. His energy was a near perfect match for yours. That’s not to say you don’t like the other bat boys… Jason’s just different. He’s Jason.  
“So you like- drink people’s blood? Or…” That was the first thing he said to you. 
“I try not to. But stealing blood bags is a hassle and I love animals too much to do that. I mostly try to hold off for as long as possible so I don’t have to feed as often. That makes me weaker though.” And Bruce couldn't have a weak vigilante underling, so he arranged for you to have a fully stocked fridge of blood bags. You didn’t ask where or how he got them. You can get anything if you have enough money. 
“How old are you?” You didn’t mind his curiosity, it’s a natural reaction. After all, it's not everyday people meet a vampire. But you’ve always hated this question in particular. It’s embarrassing. When people think of vampires they think of 100+ year olds. Not someone who’s literally younger than their parents. 
“40.” 
“How old were you when you turned?” 
“20.” 
Another reason you and Jason click so well is because of shared trauma. Kind of… You both died. His death was a lot worse than yours and at least you came out of it with abilities, rather than enhancements, but it was nice finally knowing someone who gets it. Most people can’t fathom what it would be like to die and come back to life so they don’t understand how bad it can actually be. 
And then there was the flirting. It was less flirting and more just him driving you up the wall to be honest. But either way you loved it. You’d never tell him that though. 
It started with more casual jokes like “Are those fangs or are you just happy to see me” and asking if you wanted to “get a bite to eat.” But obviously, because it’s Jason, the more comfortable you got with each other, the more sexual they became. 
“What kind of sex do vampires like?” He was trying to hide his smirk and you just rolled your eyes, not acknowledging him. “Vein-illa.” You scoffed and his smirk widened. “What, you don’t like it?” 
“No, Jason. I don’t. You’re not funny.” You feigned seriousness but you knew he knew you didn’t mean it. 
Another time, he walked into the living room where you were sitting, sipping on a blood bag and reading a book. He sat down next to you and you could feel his eyes on you. 
“Is it true what they say about lady vampires?” He asked and you raised your brows as you looked at him with a deadpan expression. “That they really know how to suck.” 
Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “Bite me.” Which instantly proved to be a mistake as it gave him another way to tease you. 
“I thought that was your thing?” He smirked and you considered moving your foot to kick him in the head. “Come on, don’t be such a sucker. It’s just a joke.” 
“Jason,” Your voice was eerily calm, “if you say one more vampire pun, I will rip your throat out so you can’t talk anymore.” 
“Not even just one more? To really hit the nail on the coffin.” You slammed your book shut and glared at him as you stood up. 
“Come on, babe. I’m just teasing.” He smirked and you started walking away, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backwards, making you fall on top of him with your back pressed to his front. “Don’t be mad. Please?” He said lowly, against your ear, making you shiver. 
“You’re so annoying, you know that?” You mumbled, settling into your position. He let out a low chuckle and moved his hands to run up and down your thighs. 
“Yeah but you love it.” 
“Do I now?” Against your will, your voice was turning breathless because of the prolonged proximity. 
“Oh definitely.” His hands gravitated toward your inner thighs, but he kept up the motions. “Just like you love me. It was love at first bite.” You groaned in annoyance and moved to stand, but his grip on your thighs tightened and he pulled you back onto his lap. 
“Jason,” You warned, trying to sound threatening, “if you don’t let me go, I will rip your throat out.” 
“Why? You don’t like being in my lap?” He teased and you huffed. 
“No.” You gritted, trying to ignore the way you could smell his arousal and how that made you want to grind your ass back against his dick. 
“I think you’re lying, babe.” 
“Stop calling me babe. That’s like the worst pet name you could pick.”  
Only a week later, you were standing in front of the fridge as you chugged a blood bag. You didn’t really need one yesterday, but today you did so much training that you felt like you were going to collapse any second now. 
“I'll let you suck me dry.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he walked in. 
“Shut up.” You muttered, just barely pulling away long enough to get the words out. He chuckled and moved toward you, making you step back the closer he got. When you hit the counter, he placed both hands on either side of your body, caging you in. 
You finally finished the blood bag and pulled it away from your mouth, wiping the blood that had dripped onto your bottom lip. When you looked up at him, you found his gaze on your lips for only a second before it moved up to your eyes. 
“That’s not very nice, princess. I’m just making a proposal, no need to be so rude.” He said, making you raise your brows. 
“A proposal? To what, suck your dick? Hard pass.” You scoffed and tried to push past him, but his grip was unmoving on the counter. You could move him… technically. But… you’re enjoying the game. 
“That’s exactly what I’m proposing.” He grinned, making you roll your eyes. 
“And why would I do that?” Your confidence never wavered, even as your cheeks started to grow warm. 
“Because you like sucking. It’s not all that different, really.” 
“No?”
“Nope.” 
“What, so anyone who drinks with a straw automatically likes sucking dick? How do you even know I’m not lesbian.” That made him chuckle lowly. 
“Princess, you’re not lesbian.” He condescended
“Fuck off.” You groaned, pushing his chest lightly. He retaliated by moving his body forward until he was completely flush against you. 
“One of these days I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.” He growled and you swallowed thickly as you watched his eyes darken. 
“I’d like to see you try.” You said through a breath. 
“I’m sure I will soon.” He smirked, then just walked away from you. 
“Do you even like the blood bags?” 
“I don’t know how to explain it. They’re not bad… they’re just- it’s like a freshly made pizza versus reheated pizza, you know?” 
“Do you want the fresh stuff?” 
“Obviously,” You laughed dryly, “but the first and only time I did that, I killed them. So it’s not worth it.” You tried not to focus too much on the memory. 
“What if you drank from me?” Your eyes widened as you replayed his words in your head, making sure you heard him right. 
“What? No- did you not hear what I just said?” 
“You won’t kill me.” He scoffed a laugh and you just stared at him. 
“Jason, I’m serious. I can’t control it. And plus, it’s… a lot more- um… erotic, than media makes it out to be.” 
“Even better.” His lips curled into a smirk and you felt your cheeks grow warm. 
“I still can’t control myself.” 
“I think you can. You need to give yourself more credit. What were the circumstances of the last time you drank from someone?” 
“It was a few hours after I… woke up, so to speak.” 
“That’s completely different. You were starving and barely even knew what was happening. You had a blood bag yesterday and have spent 20 years controlling yourself. Here, I’ll prove it.” 
“What?” Before you even finished asking, he was taking a small knife out of his pants. “What are you doing?” You asked nervously, watching as the knife flipped open and he presented his arm. 
“Relax, babe.” He brought the blade down to his arm and you stiffened. 
“Jason, don’t-“ You cut yourself off with a sharp breath when the scent immediately engulfed you. He removed the knife and you watched a drop of red trail down his arm. 
You could feel yourself turning- your eyes changing color and fangs coming out. You squeezed your eyes shut and dug your nails into the palms of your hands. 
“Jason…” Your voice was a strained whisper, then you felt his thumb on your lips. Your eyes snapped open as your chest heaved at the scent of his blood right in front of your face. 
“It’s okay.” He said quietly, his gaze moving between your eyes and mouth. You couldn’t help it anymore when your lips closed around the digit. Letting out a low groan, your eyes fluttered shut as you sucked his thumb into your mouth more, careful to avoid your fangs. 
“How’re you feeling?” His voice broke you from your haze and he removed his thumb, making you whimper. 
“More.” You whined, reaching for his arm. He let you take it and watched as your mouth closed around the small cut. 
You’d forgotten what fresh blood tastes like. It’s like a cold glass of water when you wake up in the middle of the night. Or a dessert that’s so good, it makes it feel like your mouth it’s having an orgasm. 
Your grip on his arm tightened considerably and distantly you heard him wince but he didn’t pull away. The cut was small enough that the amount of blood you got was basically like a shot. And you wanted a full glass. 
Your fangs grazed his skin as you panted, getting ready for more. But before you could bite, his free hand grabbed a fistful of hair and he roughly pulled your head away. You whined and sat up on your knees as you tried moving his arm to your mouth but he just tightened his grip and pulled your head back until you were almost looking at the ceiling. 
“Please.” If you weren’t so blood drunk, you would've been embarrassed about how whiny your voice sounds. He said your name in a warning and you finally looked at his eyes. The color was almost completely gone because of how dilated his pupils were. 
“Don’t be greedy.” The way he reprimanded you was infantilizing. But god if it didn’t make you even needier. 
“I need more.” You whimpered. Your mouth was still watering as you panted, desperate to get your mouth back on him. “Please, Jay. You taste so good, please I- I need more.” 
“What did I just say?” You let out a choked sob as your hunger rivaled your need for his praise and approval. 
“I- I promise I won’t take too much. Just- I just… please.” You cried, practically on top of him now. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you settle on his lap, then placed it on your neck. Your head felt even lighter as he tightened his grip and you couldn’t deny that not only were you drunk on blood but you were drunk on him too. 
“Baby… Look at you. So fucking desperate for just a drop. I bet you’d do anything for it, wouldn’t you?” He cooed, the condescending tone flying right over your head. You nodded eagerly and he let out a low chuckle.  
“You poor thing. If only there was something I wanted in return…” He pretended to think and you whined once you caught on to what he meant. 
“I’ll- I’ll do it.”
“Don’t just say that because you want more blood.” 
“No I- I want to. I have wanted to.” His smirk returned. 
“Yeah? You were just playing hard to get, is that it?” You hummed in agreement and nodded. 
“God I want to so bad.” You groaned. “I can- I can smell you and it’s making me so fucking wet.” 
“The smell of my blood makes you wet?” He was teasing you, but there was still a hint of surprise in his voice. 
“No- no… I can smell how-“ You let out an embarrassed whine and closed your eyes. 
“Tell me, baby.” 
“I can smell how turned on you are. And it’s driving me fucking crazy— I can barely think.” He stiffened and you opened your eyes to find him looking at you in shock with pink cheeks. 
“Have you always been able to smell that?” He asked quietly and you bit your lip as you nodded. 
“It always smells so fucking good. You smell good normally but that just— god I think it’s my favorite scent.” You don’t know why you’re saying all of this. You’d normally be too shy, but something is just making you want to confess everything to him. 
“That’s so fucking hot.” He groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. The sight of his neck bared to you made your hips buck forward into his as your mouth watered and your mind went blank. He opened his eyes to find your gaze on his neck and you watched as he swallowed thickly. You could practically hear the blood rushing through his veins. 
“You look like you want to eat me.” He chuckled nervously. 
“I do.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to drag a finger over his pulse. His breathing grew heavier the longer he watched you. When you subconsciously started leaning toward him, his hand tightened on your neck and he pushed you back a little. 
You could overpower him. You know you could. Sure he’s a far better fighter than you, but you’re ten times stronger than he is. When you looked into his eyes though, all fight just evaporated from your body. The only thing you wanted was him. In any form you could have him. 
You slowly started moving your hips, grinding your cunt on his length over the far too many layers of clothing. He let out a low groan and took his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you. 
“What do you wanna suck first?” He gruffed, bringing both hands to your hips to guide your movements. 
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get rid of the fangs in my current state to be honest.” You said through a breath, placing your hands on his shoulders and grinding harder against him as you grew more desperate. “It might be better to do that last anyway cause I wasn’t lying when I said blood drinking is more erotic than what everyone thinks.” 
“Okay, princess. Have at it.” He leaned his head back on the couch, baring his throat to you.
“You have to stop me though. I don’t want to take too much.” Despite your desperation, you were still terrified of killing him. He agreed and you slowly moved forward. The closer you got, the stronger the scent became. When your nose brushed the delicate skin, you inhaled deeply and closed your eyes. His grip tightened on your hips and his already fast heart rate increased slightly. 
“Your heart’s beating really fast.” You whispered, trying to hold off at least until he replied. 
“That’s kind of what happens when I have a hot girl on my lap breathing against my neck.” He chuckled breathlessly, but abruptly cut off with a sharp inhale when your fangs brushed his throat. 
Your patience finally ran out and you tried to be as gentle as possible when you bit him, but the second the blood rushed into your mouth, all thoughts of that disappeared. You felt the vibrations against your lips as he let out a deep moan when your teeth pierced his skin. You started sucking now and his grip turned bruising on your hips, but after only a second or two, he thrusted up, meeting your movements halfway. 
You whimpered at the constant grinding of his bulge against your clit and the taste of him. God you wanted to taste him forever. 
“Fuck…” He said through a moan. You snaked a hand up to his hair and gripped it tightly, holding him against your mouth- not that he was trying to move away. 
“God- I feel like I’m about to come.” He whined. By now, he was basically using your body to get himself off, you weren’t moving your hips on your own at all anymore. You moaned in acknowledgement but never removed your mouth, wanting to get as much as he’d let you have. 
“Fuck- princess, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.” While a distant part of you wanted him to come in your mouth instead, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Unfortunately, he made that choice for you. He grabbed your hair again and pulled you away from him, making you whine loudly. 
“As hot as this is, I’d rather come in your mouth.” He rasped, trying to catch his breath. You nodded absentmindedly, but never removed your gaze from his neck. The sight of a drop of blood trailing down had you moving forward before he could stop you. You licked a stripe up his neck, doing your best to control yourself and not dive back in for more. When you reluctantly pulled back again, he gave you a proud smile, making your stomach flutter. 
“Think you can get rid of ‘em now?” You nodded and closed your eyes, trying to focus. It took a moment, but once you started focusing on the scent of his arousal rather than his blood, it was pretty easy. Opening your eyes, you gave him a small smile and he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours. You gasped but quickly recovered and kissed him back, melting into him and pulling on his hair, trailing your other hand up to rest on his shoulder. His kiss was bruising, but you loved it all the same. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against yours, both of your breaths fanning across the other’s face. 
“Why the fuck does that feel so good?” He finally asked, both of you releasing breathy laughs. 
“I have no clue but I’m glad it does.” You pulled back a few inches so you could look at him. “Now if you don’t mind, I believe you promised me something else to suck on.” You smirked and he raised his brows. 
“Wow, a little blood straight from the source and now you’re eager for it, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” He smirked, making your cheeks heat up. “How ‘bout you show me just how eager you are?” You looked at him with furrowed brows, trying to understand what he meant, even though you were pretty sure you already knew. “Go on, baby. Beg for it.” Your entire face and neck flushed at that. 
“You’re pushing your luck.” You narrowed your eyes, playfully. 
“See, I don’t think I am.” He raised his brows again, as if he was waiting for a protest that you both knew would never come. “Go ahead, then I’ll give you what you want.” You bit your lip, your pride and neediness waging a war inside you.  
“Please.” You muttered, bored. 
“Not convinced.” He shrugged, making you glare at him. 
“You’re the one who wanted me to do this in the first place!” 
“Really? Because I remember you saying you’re the one who “wants it” and “has wanted it.’” He smirked and you clenched your jaw with a huff. 
“Please can I suck you off.” You tried to put a little more emotion into it. 
“Suck what?” You let out an annoyed groan and rolled your eyes.  
“Your cock. I wanna suck your cock… please.” You mumbled, not being able to meet his gaze. 
“There we go,” He cooed mockingly, “that wasn’t so hard was it?” You scowled, making him chuckle. Sliding off of him, you landed on your knees between his legs. You eyed his bulge and bit your lip, not being able to control your thighs squeezing together. He placed his hands behind his head and settled into the couch with a smirk. 
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll bite it.” You growled, making his smirk widen. 
“Just admiring the view.” Ignoring him, you reached up to undo his pants, then tentatively freed his cock. He really did look like he was about to come any second now. The tip was so red it almost looked painful and you watched as it twitched in your grip, desperate for more stimulation. 
Slowly leaning down, you licked the bead of precum on the top as you looked up at him through your lashes, making him let out a low groan. 
“Fuck my face.” You whispered, breath fanning his cock. 
“Fuck- are you sure?” Even though you didn’t answer yet, his hand was still making its way to your hair, running his fingers through it before gripping lightly. 
“Yes.” He didn’t need any more convincing. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, you swirled your tongue around it as you waited for him to start. He all but whimpered as he slowly pushed you down his length, not stopping until your lips reached the base. You watched his chest heave as he moved his other hand to join the one already in your hair. He adjusted his grip, then started moving you up and down his length. 
When he threw his head back with a low moan, you eyed the remaining blood that was starting to drip down his neck. Even though you wanted nothing more than to taste him again, you had to force your thoughts elsewhere before your fangs reappeared. 
He started moving your head faster now, still pushing you all the way down, despite your light gagging and choking. It wasn’t long before he was holding your head still and thrusting up into your mouth, bucking his hips wildly as he chased his orgasm. 
“Shit- I’m not gonna last,” He said through a moan, only thrusting a few more times before pushing your head all the way down and holding you there. You felt hot come hitting the back of your throat and you let out a garbled moan, making him whimper. 
Fucking whimper. 
That made you push a hand down your underwear and start rubbing fast circles on your clit. Which he seemed to appreciate, since it made you moan around his length again. His sounds died down until he sagged into the couch, chest heaving. His grip on your hair relaxed and you slowly pulled off of him, making sure to swallow any remaining come that didn’t immediately make its way down your throat. 
“Jay,” You whined, voice raspy and needy. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, then trailed his gaze down your body. Even though him watching was making you nervous, you couldn’t stop touching yourself. “Please.” 
“What are you begging for, princess?” He gave you a sleepy smile and stroked your hair gently. 
“Wanna come.” You whimpered, leaning into his touch. 
“Yeah?” All you could do was nod. “You poor thing.” He cooed, cupping your cheek before pulling you up to straddle his legs. His hands rubbed up and down your thighs teasingly, making you whine. 
“Please.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and it wasn’t long before he folded. He brought his hand to the apex of your thighs and lightly brushed his fingers over your clothed heat. Your breath hitched as your hips bucked into his touch and you were about to tell him to hurry up but his hand was already making its way inside your pants and underwear. When he ran two fingers through your dripping folds, he cursed under his breath. 
“Sucking my cock did this?” He asked breathlessly. All you could do was whine and nod. “Or was it sucking my blood…” His fingers just barely brushed over your hole and your clit, teasing you. 
“Both.” You whined, hips squirming. “Jay, c’mon.” Before you could even finish those two words, he was inserting a finger. You choked on a gasp and brought your hands up to hold on to his shoulders. He moved it fast inside you as the heel of his hand stimulated your clit and you could already feel yourself nearing your orgasm. 
You squeezed your eyes shut, head falling forward as you panted and moaned. When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of his cock, still wet from your mouth, getting hard again. So you moved your hand down and grasped it, immediately stroking to bring him back to full hardness.  
“Shit— fuck, princess… Sensitive,” He gasped out, hips bucking up into your hand despite his words. You raised your head to look at his face and almost moaned at his expression. His brows were furrowed, mouth open in a silent moan, eyes dark and half lidded. 
“I wanna come…” You whispered, biting your bottom lip and stroking his cock faster. When he pushed a second finger inside, you whimpered, grinding down on his hand. 
“I bet you do.” He said, trying and failing to hide the smirk growing on his lips. 
“Jay,” you whined, almost obnoxiously, “please.” 
“I dunno… doesn’t really seem like you want it that bad.” He shrugged, fingers picking up the pace. 
“I do! Please let me come, I need it.” He let out a low chuckle and raised his brows. 
“You need it, huh?” You replied with a whimper and a nod. “Okay, princess. Since you need it so bad, go ahead.” He smirked. You all but breathed a sigh of relief. 
“Thank you.” You whispered, closing your eyes to ready yourself. 
“Look at me.” Your eyes opened, wondering why he was prolonging it. “Good girl. I want you to keep your eyes on me as you come, understand?” You clenched around his fingers at the praise and agreed. You did your best to focus on stroking his cock so he could maybe come with you, but as you neared the edge, it became increasingly more difficult. Your eyes flickered between his face and his cock, and when you saw the precum beading at the tip, you dragged your thumb over it and lifted it to your mouth, moaning at the taste. He cursed under his breath and moved his fingers even faster inside you. 
When you finally fell over the edge, you squeezed your eyes shut, but quickly opened them again when you remembered his words. His fingers never even faltered as your walls fluttered around them. When you started unconsciously humping his hand to get the most of your orgasm, you felt his cock twitch in your hand and you looked down, finding spurts of come shooting out, landing on his shirt and your hand. You whimpered at the sound of his moans, feeling your fading arousal start to return. 
When his fingers slowed to a stop, you did the same with your hand, then let go of his softening length. You winced when he slid his fingers out, but your lips parted when he sucked your arousal off of them, letting out an exaggerated moan at the taste. 
“Stop being a tease.” You frowned, making him smirk.
“You love it.” 
You just rolled your eyes, biting your lip to hide your smile. 
673 notes · View notes
kenposting · 1 year
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Baseline
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Summary: You're a Blade Runner paired to work with Officer K. You both sense a bizarre shift lately. Something is wrong.
WC: 3.6k
AN: I literally have Ryan Gosling brainrot right now and I've loved this movie for years.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀✩⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
If there was one thing the two of you could agree on, its that something was wrong. Different. Broken. Whatever it was, something was wrong. 
He felt like a deterrent when you first met him. Someone assigned him alongside you a few months back. Being a Blade Runner at your stature had proven to be more difficult than anyone higher up had expected, and instead of retiring all the smaller, female models, they decided to just force you into this bizarre co-op with the other older Nexus-9s. 
And that’s what happened. You were assigned a partner, and therefore, a roommate as well. You found him to be a nuisance at first. You were perfectly fine doing your job on your own. This safety precaution was unnecessary, and you believed that wholeheartedly, until you saw the case photos of your model. 
It was brutal. Fueled by hatred. You had never ran into any real trouble, but these were your colleagues, retired before they had a chance to call for assistance. 
You began to be grateful he was around. The two of you argued constantly, but you did feel a lot safer. He was larger than you by a lot, and much broader in stature, but he didn’t scare you. Nothing did. 
Until now. You only barely understood what was going on when you compared it to human data. It seemed to be closest to fear, or perhaps anxiety. You never had a feeling before. Neither had he. 
Something was wrong. You just couldn’t shake it. Even thinking that way was bizarre, as it had nothing to do with programming or  logistics. The thought was pointless – unless it began to effect your work. And it had. 
“Do you know why the two of you are in here today?” 
Lieutenant Joshi was the superior to the both of you, a higher ranking member of the Retirement Division of the LAPD. You had never really minded her, but you knew something negative was present in the way she spoke. She was human, and you were built to analyze and understand the humanness within her. She was scared and confused. 
“No, Madam.” 
He answered for the both of you, something he often does. That was part of his job since the placement. He’s there to make sure you’re protected, even if it's something small. 
She looked at you. You shook your head. She sucked on her teeth, visibly upset. 
“Neither of you are even close to baseline.” 
Another bizarre sensation crept over your shoulders and sank into your abdomen. A feeling. You didn’t like it – which was another feeling, in and of itself. 
“What the fuck is going on?” 
She was upset now. You tried your best to comprehend it but you couldn’t. 
“Ever since we put the two of you together your retiring alone takes longer than usual, you aren’t preforming how you’re supposed to, you respond in inadequate ways, I mean, what is the problem?” She paused, collecting herself. “You only perform how you’re meant to when you’re together.” 
She looked at Officer K. She was speaking mostly to him. After all, he was the only one doing his job alone anymore. You were only allowed to work when he was around, and you performed fine. It was when you weren’t working… That’s where the problems were. You actually preferred his company to your own. You didn’t understand this. 
“I’m going to give you both an option.” She looked sternly between the two of you. “I’m going to retest you, right now. One of you will naturally preform better than the other. Whoever is closest to baseline will retire the other.” 
“You can take me, Madam.” 
His voice sounded different now. Still very monotone, but laced with urgency, like the thought of retiring you impeded on his natural task of protecting you. 
She scoffed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, what is wrong with you?” She sighed, shaking it off and leaving the meeting room. You followed K into the testing area. Familiar. Uncomfortable. Something loomed over you. 
There were two white chairs. You and Officer K shifted to face one another. He looked into you. You looked back. 
“Officer K D 6 dash 3 dot 7,” A voice read off his name, followed by yours. “Let’s begin. Ready?” 
“Yes, sir.”
Again, he answered for the both of you. 
“Recite your baseline.” 
The two of you spoke immediately, like a second nature, programmed into the basic essence of your coding. You didn’t have to think or process. You knew what to do, so you did it. 
“And blood-black nothingness began to spin, a system of cells interlinked within cells interlinked within cells interlinked within one stem, and dreadfully distinct against the dark, tall white fountain played–” 
“Cells.” 
“Cells.”
The two of you responded back, your voices synced to one another. Your eyes darted all around his face, searching for a sign that he was performing well. You hoped he was. Another foreign feeling, hope. Why did you hope for his success? 
“Have you ever been in an institution? Cells.” 
“Cells.” 
His eyes never averted from your gaze. There was something foreign to you there. Something you presumed would be described as comforting. 
“Do they keep you in a cell? Cells.” 
“Cells.” 
“When you’re not performing your duties do they keep you in a little box? Cells.” 
“Cells.” 
“Interlinked.” 
“Interlinked.” 
“What’s it like to hold the hand of someone you love? Interlinked.” 
K’s face flashed before your mind at this question. You wished you also knew what was going on, but you didn’t. Something was wrong. You remembered his hand accidentally brushing against yours a few weeks prior. That’s when all of this began. You were going to be retired. You could feel it. 
“Interlinked.” 
Officer K looked over your face, a mechanical whirring at the speed of his shifting eyes. Truthfully, he felt the same way. He was going to be retired. He could feel it. 
“Did they teach you how to feel finger to finger? Interlinked.” 
“Interlinked.” 
“Do you long for having your heart interlinked? Interlinked.” 
You could’ve sworn you detected movement in K’s lips. A slight smile. Something you had never seen before in a Replicant. Something you had never done before. His eyes softened.
“Interlinked.” 
“Do you dream about being interlinked? Interlinked.” 
“Interlinked.” 
“What’s it like to hold your child in your arms? Interlinked.” 
“Interlinked.” 
“Do you feel that there’s a part of you that’s missing? Interlinked.” 
“Interlinked.” 
Sometimes you did think things like that, but they didn’t make any sense. It was like a buffering within you.
“Within cells interlinked.” 
“Within cells interlinked.” 
“Why don’t you say that three times, within cells interlinked.” 
“Within cells interlinked. Within cells interlinked. Within cells interlinked.” 
A silence fell over the white room, and again, fear crept in, or what you could only assume was fear. His eyes still hadn’t left yours. 
“Officers, do you have anything more to say?” 
The voice nearly startled you, further showing you that something was very wrong. You aren’t in any imminent danger, so why were you responding like you were? 
“No, sir.” 
You wondered if you’d ever have to answer for yourself again. 
He stood, his movement encouraging you to stand as well. You often followed his every move. His height never ceased to amaze you. You wondered why they built him so tall, yet programmed him so meekly. He didn’t naturally intimidate you. He didn't naturally intimidate anyone. He just did his job and went on his way. 
You followed him into the room you had both been in previously. Lieutenant Joshi was sat back at the table holding a sheet of data. She analyzed it much slower than either of you could. 
Officer K pulled out a chair and waited for you to have a seat. Part of his task. He sat beside you. 
Her eyes looked up, shifting between the two of you with a clicking motion. She was searching for something, but she wasn’t going to find it. There's nothing there to find.
“Do either of you have any comments, Officers?” 
You looked at K. 
“I hope I did worse than her.” 
She rolled her eyes, frustrated at his malfunctioning. She couldn’t gather a response, so she resorted to sliding the paper in front of the both of you. 
100% accuracy. A perfect score. The highest either of you had ever gotten to baseline. 
You looked up at her. She remained searching, beginning to say something before sighing, abandoning the thought all together. 
Officer K’s jaw tightened beside you. 
“Do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?” 
You looked at him, then her. You didn’t have any previous data on any of this. It was rare for you to have an uninspired thought, but your software had been updated to the highest functioning and you figured only one explanation would make sense. 
“We’re interlinked, Madam.” 
She was quiet for a moment, blinking. 
“It appears so.” 
Silence fell over the room for several minutes. K sat much taller than you. He felt much more powerful than you in this moment. Even now, you were glad to have him around. 
“We should really just retire both of you, but we’ve never seen this kind of score. I need to speak to some colleagues and I’ll have you report back here in the following days. Do you understand?” 
“Yes, Madam.” 
The two of you spoke in sync. Interlinked. 
The drive home was quiet, but pleasant. Both of you thought you’d be retired before sundown, so the bleak landscape appeared a bit more welcoming than usual. You didn’t particularly enjoy the world, but you did enjoy being around K. 
The walk to your building was always the worst. The people outside felt like one large organism, moving and speaking all at once, an amalgamation of bodies, neon lights reflecting against the rain droplets hitting the ground. It was hard to take in so many small happenings at the same time. He knew this about you, picking up on the shifts in your face when you stepped out into the night. He placed a gloved hand on the small of your back, leading you. Afterall, part of his task was to enure your safety, and he wanted you to know he was looking out for you. He liked doing a good job for you. He feels something when you thank him for it.
“Hey, A boy!” 
Moans and expletives swam through your ears. This scene was ever present. Every single night on your way home, you passed this part of town. Before Officer K was assigned to you it was much scarier. People would grab at you and pull you towards different dark buildings and corners of street. Replicant and human alike, both took advantage of your size. 
You always ignored it, programmed to move forward, but something felt different this time. 
The girls touched him, eyeing him up and down, walking alongside the both of you, looking at you. 
“Wanna come see what a real girl feels like?”  
He didn't react. He never did, actually. One of the girls showed a change in her expression, cautioning the others, mentioning his job. The words she spoke relieved you. You didn’t mind the insult, you just didn’t want him to leave you. It was scary out here. Everyone towered over you, even the girls. 
The girls dismissed her warning, giggling, grabbing onto him further. Your pace quickened. So did his. You reached the stairs outside of your building and he stepped aside, letting you go ahead of him. 
“We’re always here!” 
They were always there. They had been built for pleasure. Sexual consumerism. It confused you, really. You didn’t understand the appeal, but it seemed like everyone else did. K didn't get it either.
He followed closely behind you up the steps. The flights went on for ages. People lingered there, littering the tight area, continuing to yell at the two of you. K kept a close watch for anyone grabbing for you, though. He wouldn’t let it happed again. 
He opened the door to your apartment, holding it wide for you to walk in. Someone spat in your direction. He closed his eyes. It was like he was convincing himself not to react. He never had to do that before. The droning lull of the people made you feel anxious again, like you really were in danger. He shut the door behind you, the thick lock clunking shut. 
Your apartment was safe, like a homebase. No one could attack you here. You watched as K hanged his coat on the back of the door, heavy and weighed down. He looked different. Relieved. Softer. Pleased to see you. 
“Are you hungry?” 
You thought for a moment, considering when the last time you ate was. There was am artificial aching in your abdomen. 
“Yes.” 
He nodded, stepping a foot into the kitchen. This place was so small. After all, Blade Runners don’t really deserve comfort. They didn’t need it. They couldn’t feel it. But you did. You had to accept it, it was only logical. You felt the place was small, and that meant you could feel. 
K made the same thing you both ate every night. Noodles. You hated them – another feeling – but you liked spending time with him. It was sweet, the ways he chose to serve you.
He looked down into his bowl. He wasn’t eating. Something was different about him. 
“K? Is everything alright?” 
He looked up at you, meeting your gaze. He searched you, but found no answers. 
“I don’t know. I know that I’m supposed to know. But I don’t. And that means something is wrong.” 
You nodded. You felt immense comfort at his answer. He felt the same. At realizing this, a secondary thought entered your mind: he must need to be comforted as well. You thought back to your Joi, sat somewhere in a drawer for weeks now, collecting dust. You found it odd to use it around him, and he thought the same, but you remembered what went on when you did use it. You retraced all the humans you had came across in your mind, all films you had seen. You knew how they all comforted one another. You wanted to try for him. This was perhaps the most bizarre feeling of all. 
Neither of you were real, just programmed to be as human-like as technology currently allowed. So really, what’s the harm in this? You couldn’t have feelings for something real, but he wasn’t real either, so no harm no foul. 
“I feel the same way. I feel, I mean. I don’t like it either.” 
You tried your best to put it into words.
He nodded, shifting, like he had turned something off inside of him. You had frightened him. He thought he was just malfunctioning, and the only other option is that the two of you were both feeling something very real and new and unlikely. That was frightening. Something was wrong. 
His jaw tightened as he stood from the table, grabbing his bowl and stepping toward the kitchen. 
You sat there alone at the table for a long time. You felt something different now, something new. You didn’t recognize it; it hadn’t been taught to you. Loneliness, perhaps. Or regret. A feeling that you had said something you wished you hadn’t. 
A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, awakening you from your trance. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the orange glow of the city had drifted into a deep aqua color. Night had fallen. 
“I don’t know what’s going on.” 
His voice was different. Softer than before, like every moment he became gentler and… more... human. 
You hummed in agreement. You didn’t know either. He reached his hand out and you took it, following him a few feet to your small bathroom. A soft glow came from behind the doorframe. 
His steps were heavy as he lead you forward. Your eyes shifted, taking in the scene. 
He had ran you a bath, something you didn’t even realize you possessed in this small space. There were candles lit alongside the edge of the porcelain. You were sure you didn’t own any candles. 
“I saw this in a film once…” His voice trailed off, like he didn’t know what else to say. He was almost shy about it. 
You stepped forward. A new smell filled the room. Something fresh. 
“Its lavender. I took some from the last Nexus-8 I retired. I know that’s not very romantic.” 
Romantic? Was he trying to be romantic? Why was he trying to be romantic? 
“And the candles?” 
His constant blank stare shifted into a sheepish, subtle, barely-noticeable smile. But you noticed. It was just a change in data, after all. 
“I bought them yesterday. I saw them downtown and I thought of you. I’m not sure why.” 
Whatever you had been feeling before was miniscule compared to what you feel now. An ache in your chest and browline, sharp and sudden. A tear fell from your right eye. Something was definitely wrong. 
This world was just… so sad. Fallen. Broken. Corrupted. Evil. Lost. So many things. And especially for you. You felt selfish for feeling this way at all; you weren’t a human that had everything ripped away from you, you weren’t even real. But your memories were real to you, and this was real to you too. No one had ever gone out of their way to think of you before. Everything before your assignment with Officer K was rigid and impersonal, but he wasn’t like that, and neither of you knew why. 
You stepped forward, keeping his hand in yours, leading him into the small space with you. It would be snug, but both of you could fit. 
You followed your normal routine, removing each article of clothing as to not get them wet. His torso was laced with cuts and bruising. Again, the sight of it made you feel something. 
He sank into the water first, still holding your hand, blankly looking forward at the tile on the wall. You followed after him, laying against his chest. This was nice, but also very weird. What were you meant to do now? You were grateful for the gesture. The warm water was a stark contrast to the cold world you both lived in. The last few weeks you realized you hated being a Blade Runner, and in hindsight, he must've felt the same. Underappreciated. Unimportant. Cold. False. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. Thank you for inviting me in.” 
You both sat there for a long time. His hand held onto you gently, like you were in danger. Part of his task. You liked this, but in every film you’ve seen, its followed by much more interesting activities. A curiosity crept inside you. There’s so much you’ve began to be able to feel and think and see. You couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning. “This was very kind of you, K. I hope you know that.” 
You felt him nod behind you, dismissive. 
“I appreciate you letting me work alongside you. I know you didn’t like it at first, but you’ve always been very nice to me. Thank you for that.” 
You felt like crying again. This world really did blow for the two of you, didn’t it? 
“I’d like to lay down now.” 
He nodded again, waiting for you to stand before standing himself. He got you a towel. He didn’t have to do that. It had nothing to do with your safety. That wasn’t an assigned task, that was a choice. 
“Thank you.” 
He nodded, careful not to look you over too much. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 
As you dried yourself, he left the small bathroom. You quickly got dressed, searching around for him. He was sat on the couch staring blankly ahead. 
You made your way over to him, sitting beside him. You placed a hand on his arm and sat up to gently kiss his cheek, something you’d done with Joi before and something you’d seen in many movies. Even humans would do this downtown, you’d seen it before. 
He looked at you. 
“You kissed me. I don’t understand.” 
“I don’t either. I felt like doing it. I think it’s supposed to make people feel better and you look like you don’t feel well.” 
He looked at you. Nothing had ever made him react this way. He no longer wanted to just be a consumer of pleasure. Joi and the like didn’t interest him anymore. He wanted to show you something. He didn’t understand it yet, but he was made in the likeness of a human, and perhaps this was part of that. It would be different if he felt something for a human – unfair almost. He couldn’t provide them with the things they would need. He just didn’t have it in him. But you? You were like him. Just like him. The same. Cells, interlinked. 
He watched as you placed your hand atop his. It was so tiny in comparison. He didn’t recognize this sensation, but he felt an urge to take care of you, to give you anything you asked for. More than his assigned task. He wanted to, even if he didn’t have to. He took pleasure in it, actually. 
You were real to him; as real as he was. He wanted to take care of you. He also hated being a Blade Runner, and he knew you must have it so much harder. The board even assigned you a partner out of sheer fear you’d be brutally beaten into retirement just for existing, not to mention the humans and replicants that used your model for pleasure. He didn’t like that, and he didn’t want that. He wanted something different and it didn’t make sense to him. 
The act seemed almost the same. The same positions, the same words being said, the same sequence of events. People kissing, then laying down together, all of that. But sometimes something was different. He thought of the ads around town, how they appeared to him. He compared it to the books he had to read on the human condition. Something was different. One was about lust, and one was about love. He thought the latter more closely related to what he felt for you. 
“I’m okay, just thinking.” 
You looked up at his scarred face, bruised from the last job. There was something heavy on his mind. You wanted to help him with that. You didn’t know how, but you wanted to try for him. Afterall, the two of you performed great at work when you were together. Maybe you’d perform great at home too. 
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀✩⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
272 notes · View notes
rainbow-rey · 2 months
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Willy's Special Rod
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Willy x Reader - MDNI!!
Summary: Willy shows the farmer how he uses his rod.
Tags: reader-insert, pov first person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk
Posted on ao3 as a oneshot and part of a collection
I wake up and are instantly reminded of what I was doing last night, before I went to bed. I grab a coffee, sipping it slowly as I remember my intense orgasms, thanks to the help of my glass dildo. I feel my pussy getting wet from the memories. I clear my throat and leave the house, forcing myself to focus on the morning’s tasks. There’s a letter in the mailbox this morning, and it’s from Willy. I can feel my pussy clench, picturing his beard, his broad shoulders, his essence. What does he want? I want to open it, but instead I stick it in my pocket, saving it for after I collect today’s crops. 
Once the animals are fed, pumpkins are harvested, and the fruit cave is checked, I can finally open Willy’s letter. I open it eagerly and read it aloud. 
"Come to the beach at six… That’s it?" I cry, disappointed. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected much. Willy isn’t the poet type, and I feel silly for maybe wanting something more from him.
As I’m working, I can’t help but think about Willy. I’ve been having taboo thoughts about him ever since I met him last spring, so I was thrilled when he finally suggested an arrangement for us. I provide him with release whenever he wants, and he gives me bait and equipment. 
Willy is undeniably hot. He has a strong, masculine air to him, one that you don’t find in guys my age. I’d been touching myself to him since the first day I met him. He gave me my fishing rod and showed me how to cast it, wrapping his arms around mine as he guided them and whispered instructions in my ear. The sight of him handling his rods, wrapping his thick fingers around the handles. I remember going home and finding my pussy wetter than I’d ever gotten before. I had no choice but to pound myself with my dildo, pretending it was Willy’s thick cock. My pussy is drenched at the memories, and I have to squeeze my thighs together. Willy makes me so aroused it hurts. I contemplate going inside and masturbating before I leave, but I check my watch and I only have an hour before I have to be at the beach. I run inside quickly to get dressed, forcing myself to ignore my overly inviting dildo. I unbutton the first two buttons of my shirt and fluff up my hair in the hallway mirror before heading back out. I set off for the beach.
-
I walk down the dock, approaching Willy. I tap his shoulder, admiring the way his arms fill out his shirt so nicely. I fight the choking-themed thoughts that come. 
"Y/N, you’re here," Willy says. "I was worried you wouldn’t show."
"Of course I’m here," I smile. "I like this shirt on you, by the way."
"Thank you, Y/N." The way he says my name has my hole gushing. What is it with this man? "Come inside. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Slick oozes out of my cunt as I think about him and his veiny cock. It’s easily the biggest one I’ve seen before, and I can barely take all of him in my mouth at once. I only imagine how he would feel inside me; so far he’s only asked me to use my hands, mouth, and one time he wanted me to use my tits. I’ll never forget his groans whenever I licked his tip when it showed from between my boobs. 
I follow Willy inside his shop. He pulls me behind the counter. I instinctively get on my knees in front of him and reach to undo his pants, but today he stops me. 
“I have a different idea today, Y/N,” he says gently. God, he’s hot. 
“What do you need today, Willy?” I ask him. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the way his cock twitches when I say his name. 
“Well, I’ve been thinking recently…” He takes my chin with his fingers and tilts my face up to meet his. His hazel eyes are a piercing shade, tinted with lust. 
“You’ve been… thinking? About what?” I won’t lie, I don’t really care about what he has to say. I just need to feel his cock somewhere and I’ll be happy. Right now, I don’t feel him anywhere, and I’m a little impatient. 
Willy notices my impatience. “I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve been wondering what your pussy would feel like.”
I can’t control the blush that appears on my face, and I’m now feeling flustered. Finally! It’s taken far too long for him to ask. “Do you mean—“
“I want my cock in your cunt. Would you like that, Y/N?” His voice is raspy, laced with desire. I imagine that’s what he sees in my face, too, and there’s no other way my eager nod can be interpreted otherwise. 
Willy reaches for my hands and pulls me up to sit on the counter. He trails his hand along my body, making me shiver. His fingers reach the buttons on my shirt. 
“Can I undo these?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
I nod. I can feel his dick pressing against my center as he moves closer to me, rock-hard and straining against the fabric of his pants. All the heat in my body rushes down to my cunt as Willy groans in approval, noticing that I went braless today. His fingers graze my nipples and I moan. It’s been forever since I felt the touch of a man, and I’m so glad he’s the one with his hands on me. Willy is gentle yet deliberate with his actions, pinching my nipples and squeezing my tits. I whine when he pulls away from my chest, but it’s worth it when he starts to slide down my skirt. 
“Hips up, baby,” he says, and I use his shoulders as leverage to let him pull the fabric off my ass. The underwear I’m wearing underneath is pretty normal, but I don’t have time to stress about them when he pulls them off too.
Willy gets one look at my pussy and groans. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re soaked for me. You’ve been wanting this?”
I nod, feeling my cheeks flush. 
“Such a good girl,” he says under his breath, grinning. Willy starts removing his own clothes. “Can I see you touch yourself for me, baby?”
I oblige. I lick my fingers, sucking them like I suck his cock. My eyes don’t leave his. After I’ve properly lubed my fingers, I drag them down to my gushing, hot cunt. My middle and ring fingers dip just barely into my hole, and I can feel the sticky, wet fluids inside me. Willy looks more turned on than I’ve seen him before, so I take it as a good sign and start rubbing my clit. I moan softly, the feeling only amplified when I see Willy start to stroke his cock to the sight of me. I rub my clit faster, and my well-lubed fingers make any potential friction cease. The sounds of my fingers on my cunt turn me on, as well as Willy, whose hand is moving at a speed that would make me cum instantly if he was inside me. I don’t make any signs of stopping the pleasure on my clit, instead waiting for him to finally say the magic words.
“I’m about to come—“ he cries. 
“Don’t do it yet,” I tell him, removing my hand from my pussy and watching him unwillingly move his hand too. He looks disappointed, but the look goes away when I tell him, “I want you in my cunt.”
The gleam in his eyes is unmistakable as he lines himself up with my entrance. Willy pushes his unbearably thick tip inside me before pulling out, making me whine. I’m not sad anymore, however, when he drags his now-lubricated tip on my clit in slow, carefree motions. 
“Please…” I whine. 
“Please what, baby?” Willy doesn’t stop the teasing motions on my clit. 
“Fuck me, Willy. I need to feel your thick cock in my wet cunt,” I cry. I can’t help it anymore. I’m so close to finally getting what I’ve wanted for months. 
And holy shit, when that wish is granted, it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Willy’s cock is big. I knew that, but I didn’t quite know just how big it really was. No dildo can ever satisfy me the way he can. The minute I feel him press into my hole, I know I’m in for the ride of my life. 
His cock reaches every single part of my cunt. I feel full in a way nothing could have ever made me feel except for him. At first, he just slides in his cock, letting me adjust to his size. I can feel my pussy molding to his length as he pushes into me. When I think he’s done inserting himself, he manages to fit more in. 
“Is it all in yet?” I ask, almost desperate. 
“Almost, baby.”
Finally, I feel his balls hit my ass. Willy stays in this position for a bit, really making sure that my cunt won’t ever take dick that isn’t his without being disappointed. 
Slowly, Willy starts to thrust. With each one, his fat dick hits every spot in me, making me scream as he rubs my g-spot over and over and over. I feel pleasure I didn’t know was possible. The amount of slick that has come out of my hole between arriving at the shop and now ensures that there’s no friction at all. I’ve never been as turned on as I am right now, tits bouncing as Willy pounds my pussy over his countertops. No amount of porn can capture how utterly amazing this sex is. 
Willy puts his hands on my hips to steady me as he speeds up his thrusts. I cry out each time he bottoms out in me. The room echoes with sex sounds, between his balls slapping against my ass, our combined moans, and the obscene slick noises that come when his cock slides in and out of my soaked cunt. 
I think this situation can’t get any better, but Willy decides to lean over me on the counter, making direct eye contact with me as he destroys my swollen pussy. I’m tempted to lean up slightly and bring my lips to his—but he does it first. 
His lips against mine, his hands on my hips, his cock in my hole… It doesn’t get any better than this. His tongue slides between my lips and now we’re making out as he continues to pound his thick, long cock inside me. Every thrust makes me scream into his mouth, and he doesn’t let up. My back arches and my pussy clenches as I feel my body heat gathering near my cunt, amplifying the feeling of him penetrating me. 
Soon, I can’t help it anymore, and I don’t think he can, either. When I pull away from our kiss and scream, “I’m coming!” he doesn’t stop his pace until I can feel my lower lips flutter around him. Only then does he slow down the speed of his thrusts, filling my insides with hot cum. Willy collapses on top of me, pulling me into a soft kiss. 
“We should do this again soon,” he whispers in my ear. 
-
Kudos and comments are appreciated <3
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louisrarepairfest · 6 months
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LOUIS RARE PAIR FEST 2024
— Prompts —
[Submit a prompt you'd like to read or write here!]
🫐 The prompt can specify a particular pairing or can use Louis/Character B as the pairing.
🫐 Writers can sign up with one of these prompts or sign up with their own prompt not on this list.
🫐 Prompts will be crossed off as they are chosen during sign ups.
⬇️ Possible prompts below ⬇️
(A) Louis/Character B are uni roommates
(B) Louis/Greg James - Louis takes Clifford to a secluded park and lets him run free for a few hours. A few weeks into going to a park, a friendly dog (Barney) Louis assumes is a stray comes over by him with a stick in his mouth and Louis plays fetch. This becomes a Thing every time. Louis notices Clifford has been gaining weight and can’t figure out why. One day, Clifford doesn’t come back like he usually does. Louis goes looking for him with (Barney) trailing on his heels. He’s just about to give up when (Barney) sprints away and Louis can’t stand the thought of losing two dogs in one day so he runs after him. Cut to…Louis finding a very tall, very handsome man, very excitedly welcoming Barney back with Clifford barely looking up from the almost gone bucket of dog food said very (very) handsome man clearly brought to the park. Confusion ensues since each thinks the other’s dog was a stray. Wild accusations from Louis about Greg making Clifford fat, jokes from Greg about how Barney has taken up finding perfect sticks and running away with his best one. They fall in love and become one big happy family.
( C ) Louis/Character B are musicians vying for the role of band leader at their former high school. They went there at the same time and were rivals then too, though for a totally different reason: they both had secret crushes on one another. When I've of them learns this, it changes everything.
(D) Girl direction! Louis/Character B are star athletes on the college (you choose the) sport team. They're both on the butch side, and it takes them a while to figure out that they're into one another and don't need to femme it up to get the other to like them.
(E) Omegaverse: Alpha Louis has never questioned who he is, a strong Alpha loving Alpha who defies stereotypes. When he meets character B, a beta, he certainly doesn't expect to fall for him (and hard)
(F) Famous Louis returns to his home town for his sister's wedding. When he sees his non-famous ex-boyfriend at the first wedding event of the weekend, sparks fly. Cue a whirlwind romance and a lot of big decisions about what they're both willing to do for love.
(G) Louis is a werewolf who's gotten good at hiding his nature in order to make a quiet life for himself in a small town. Character B is the vampire whose arrival coincides with a couple of murders that threaten his peaceful existence. When it becomes clear that B isn't behind the murders, he and Louis team up to find the real culprit (and maybe accidently fall in love along the way).
(H) Louis/Liam - Bros who get married for insurance purposes and then decide divorce isn’t worth the hassle.
(i) Louis/Charlie Lightening…no plot but sex on the ping pong table. Obviously. 
(J) Louis and his bandmates/opening band let off some steam by having a circle jerk. It might turn into more for some of them.
(K) Ever since Character A was a kid they wanted to climb on a fire truck and one day they decide to just walk over to the fire station and ask if they can get on the truck. Character B is one of the firefighters.
(L) M/M Louis and Taylor Swift are rival quarterbacks for their town's 2 high school teams. Nobody knows that they've been secretly dating since sharing a NYE kiss. 
(M) Louis/Liam - everyone thinks Louis and Harry are together but it’s actually Louis and Liam
(N) Lilo hot water maintenance au based on this tumblr post
(O) Lilo Robin Hood AU
(P) Lilo Howl’s Moving Castle au
(Q) Louis and either Charlie or Nick from Heartstopper (the Netflixshow), friendship fic. Would love Louis either helping Nick through his sexuality crisis or Louis being there for Charlie through the events of the first season
(R) Omegaverse: Louis is about to turn 25 without having presented. As he debates undergoing the risky process to force a presentation, he meets Character B who helps him realize he doesn't necessarily have to "present" to be the alpha he know he is. (Omegaverse but make it trans and powerful!!)
(S) Bread van fic reimagined with all the guys in Louis' band
(T) Louis plays on the uni football team and Liam is on the athletics team. they pass each other to and from training all the time. cue attraction. they are or become friends and are secretly pining for a while before they eventually start dating
(U) Edwardian era Lilo au where they’re both working class. maybe one is a servant and one is a shop assistant, or both servants.
(V) Louis and David Dawson bond over their time with Harry
(W) Louis/Oscar Isaac- edwardian AU where Oscar is a poet and Louis is his muse
(X) Louis/Pedro Pascal AU where Louis is exploring in the arctic and needs a guide
(Y) Louis/Pedro Pascal Gladiator AU
(Z) Michael B. Jordan as a boxer and nurse Louis
(AA) Louis/Sebastian Stan arranged marriage royalty AU. Louis is betrothed to King Sebastian Stan, a widower with two kids who aren't to keen of the King's fiancé.
(BB) Louis/Sam Claflin - something based on the interview where Sam says Louis follows him on Twitter and that they've had a conversation but he doesn't want to get into it.
(CC) 27 dresses take off where Niall is always the best man, never the husband, and Louis is the snarky reporter.
(DD) Zouiam, uni AU - Zayn meets Liam at the library and falls halfway in love during a single conversation. It’s a fairy tale, only back home is Louis - his FWB, the most important person in Zayn’s life, and someone who doesn’t take well to losing out on attention. Louis' a bit put out when he meets Liam at football practice and this annoying, bossy, fit as all hell guy slides right in under all his defences. It could be the start of a beautiful term of fighting and fucking, only back home is Zayn. Zayn not only needs Louis - he’d become a full-time hermit otherwise - but it’s damn convenient having sex on tap right there in his own flat. And, oh yeah, Zayn’s like, his reflection or his shadow or his other half or something. Liam’s quite confused by having two drop dead gorgeous guys alternately sending him go signals, then just as quickly, stop. He figures if either of them settle on go, he’ll be batting a thousand. Then he realises they know each other. Biblically.
(EE) Louis is an actor in a murder mystery troupe. Character B (maybe Nick Grimshaw...?) is the audience member who’s clearly too cool for all this but giving joining in his best shot anyway. Louis is distracted by him all night, and then after the denouement they meet in the bar.
(FF) Louis/Greg James - Louis won’t stop whanging on about not getting to do the breakfast show with his new album, and character X (maybe Niall, or Oli?) eventually realises it's less career-related jealousy and more about who sits behind the mic. He hatches a matchmaking plan.
(GG) Character A does embarrassing things when interacting with Character B because of their massive crush. Like Character B reaches out to do a fist bump and Character A thinks it's supposed to be a microphone and says hello into their fist.
(HH) Character B joins local amateur dramatics society and suddenly Louis is no longer a shoo-in for every lead role. Cue the drama!
(ii) AU. Preschool teacher Louis / Boxer Sebastian Stan
(JJ) Yellowjackets AU! Girl direction, any pairing from the show, cutting from 1996 to present.
(KK) Louis/Cillian Murphy - 1970s criminal au (preferably with Louis as the criminal), based on this photo: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FvyDkCnWAAk1UwS?format=jpg&name=4096x4096
(LL) Louis/Isaac: Louis and his band Rogue Direction are doing their first tour in their beat-up van at questionable bars across the country. One night, Isaac is hurled into his life, fleeing from an abusive boyfriend in parking lot of the band’s gig. Louis can’t help but feel..protective of the scrappy tagalong who’ll do anything to earn his keep.
(MM) Louis/Isaac: Louis fucks Isaac’s gauged ears.
(NN) Omega Louis / Male Alpha / Female Alpha polyamorous relationship
(OO) Louis/Patrick Dempsey. AU Patrick is Louis’ dad’s best friend. Possible tags: age difference, secret relationship, feminine Louis, hung Patrick
(PP) Louis Tomlinson/Alex Turner AU. Is basically based in the Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino where Louis and Alex are imprisoned together; so they must find a way to escape. But while they try to escape they begin to fall in love with each other however it will be difficult for both of them to escape.
(QQ) Louis and Rob Pattinson are in a secret relationship during the 1d days (around 2014 or 2015) unknown to everyone but then louis gets pregnant.
(RR) Beta Louis with alpha whomever, not established relationship.
(SS) Louis and Michael are secretly dating and navigating the resurgence of the Larry rumor mill. Larry was once real, Louis has insecurities about secretly dating another band mate, and Michael has some insecurities over Harry being Louis ex. Maybe an awkward run in or two with Harry trying to get him back but Michael and Louis being endgame.
(TT) Louis tomlinson/Dev Patel- second chance romance
(UU) louis/charles Leclerc, could title the fic as -my good luck charm- (or some such since charles won the race when louis was there etc) and or u could have charles say that to louis and louis getting smug and or bashful & giggly!
(VV) Charles Leclerc at one of Louis gigs? Or him joining the band onstage?
(WW) Louis had to wear multiple badges to have F1 access, so Louis makes Charles wear multiple badges to have VIP access to his concerts. All’s fair…
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kiwanopie · 2 years
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Psych Kick
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saiki k x reader (wc: 1k)
intrusive thoughts won on this one lads. [also, little reminder that saiki k is canonically asexual but coming from someone who’s on the ace/aro-spectrum who sometimes enjoys sex, i made it a little suggestive.] college au, duh.
“What? Big hotshot can’t join his friends for a hangout?”
“Hot-?” Saiki blows a short breath out of his nose as he adjusts his glasses. “Like I said, let's do it later.”
Nendo frowns. “Whyyy~”
“Must have another meeting with the president this time.” Hario you too?! “It’s best we let him go save the world again.”
“Why are you all being so bitter about this-“
“Come on! What could possibly be so important that you can’t hang out with your pals for once?” And now Kaido’s talking like Nendo. It’s best to cut this short. “We haven’t seen you in forever since that whole meteor thing! Do you really think you’re too good for us now?”
Saiki sighs.
There’s no way to go about saying this without getting haggled immediately afterwards. Especially given the extreme circumstance. He’s not stupid. He’s not shallow but he’s not blind either. Ever since this whole thing came about he’s been chiding himself on picking so outside of his current dispositions, making himself so open to attention and fighting that pesky feeling of being so okay with it. His first idea was to keep it a secret, but now with his feelings - new feelings in the way; he has to stop himself from making a show of it like someone he knows would. For a second he wonders if this was the kind of path that drove his parents to madness.
His cheeks grow hot as he thumbs over his phone in his hands, and at the very least, he can be thankful it’s just these four for now.
He wants to turn his head. “My… girlfriend-“
“Stop lying!”
He didn’t even let him get it out!
Torituska pouts from his chair across the room, sitting backwards on a computer seat that turns his expression mushy as he leans against it. “Seriously, if you’re gonna make up something, at least come up with a more believable lie.” Now you’re just being mean.
“Hah? What’s so unbelievable about me having a girlfriend?”
“You can hear yourself when you speak right?”
He’s gonna start scowling at this rate.
“Wait, hold on.” Hario repositions his back against the bed as he but’s in, raising his hands to interject. There’s a look on his face like he’s trying to placate the two. “Let’s not act like Saiki isn’t a spirited guy! He’s helpful and faithful to his ideals! And his personality isn’t even that bad.” You’re not helping.
“He doesn’t even own a porn mag. - And his search history is squeaky clean.“ What does one have to do with the other?
“If you have a girlfriend, why haven’t we met her yet?”
That would be a pretty good question. Had one quick glance along the room not make him shiver at the prospect of introducing them to his pride and joy. God, he’s starting to sound like his dad.
“Is she in our lectures? Does she go to this university? Does she know you exist?”
“Does she belong to the Dark Reunion?”
“Do you own a pair of her panties?”
Do you know what you’re asking him right now? Aside from a quick flick of his finger and a harsh eraser mark on Torituska’s forehead, Saiki turns his head toward the door in favor of a response. He can barely think under these conditions to begin with. No better that he knows his friends don’t plan on going anywhere even after he leaves his dorm for the night, and with his luck might even be here by morning. But that’s beside the fact. If these guys don’t believe he has a girlfriend, they’ll never believe what he’s leaving so prematurely to do.
Does he keep that box of condoms in his closet or his bathroom?
“What’s her name?”
Saiki’s lips twitch up as he reaches into that black box tucked near his extra blankets, half inclined to hum it as it rolls over his tongue. “_____.”
Hario’s mouth shapes into an astonished little “o” as Kaido tilts his head, too preoccupied with that foreign shade of rouge on his friend’s face to notice Torituska’s gone pale. “Sounds foreign?”
Saiki glances at Nendo’s puzzled expression and follows it to Torituska’s ghostly body. Decidedly he should leave before things get loud. “It is.”
“W-Wait you mean,” Hario blushes. That’s appropriate. “______ from the-“
“I’ll kill you!” That’s not.
The pointed finger keeps Tori frozen in the air but his strength is enough to make Saiki start to strain. Maybe it should stay a secret. He sighs at what’s sure to be some psychosis driven tirade that he really doesn’t have the time to sit through.
“What does a guy like you get off on trying to call dibs on my precious, _____?! Peon’s like you shouldn’t be able to speak her name let alone spread lies about being her boyfriend! What are you some kind of stalker or something?! A pervert?! Were you gonna stalk her outside of her house and steal her used gum out of the garbage near the gate?!” Why was that last part so specific…?
“______’s really smart and cool and beautiful…” Hario scratches behind his pinkening ears. “And she’s really good at fighting despite looking so soft all over. - If you’re really dating ______ then…. Well it’s certainly hard to believe…”
Saiki’s brow twitches a little. “I didn’t know you were all such big fans.”
“I don’t know her. But she definitely doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d date Saiki-kun.” Kaido adds.
Saiki’s phone buzzes in his hand as he sighs. And he doesn’t even have to look. He was supposed to be there minutes ago and knowing you you’ve probably gotten needier by the second. Although, that might not be so bad.
“I gotta go.” He pockets his phone.
Torituska knocks him back with a hard push as he breaks out of his bind. “You’re probably using your telepathic abilities to trick her into dating you! You sick-“
His condoms fall out of his pocket.
The silence that falls over the room is deafening as the five men freeze in place, eyes immediately pulled to the golden wrapper making waves on plastic as it's illuminated by the ceiling light overhead. And he’s sure that they’ve all collectively stopped breathing. Never mind that his friends now know what kind of heat he’s packing in his trousers, but there’s multiple of them. If the whole group was here he’d be half considering the most appropriate way to ditch town after something like this, but in this case he’s only considering the best way to get out of this situation before all hell breaks loose.
He’ll teleport. Like he should’ve minutes ago. Though this time with likely less precision.
Saiki reaches for the grouped up squares and staches them in his pocket, phasing his overnight bag into his hands as he does. “If I’m not back by noon, push the mail in.”
He glances at a lifeless Torituska. “Bye.”
He’s gone in a blink.
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reblog if you personally have been targeted by Torituska, you may be entitled to compensation
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