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oharababe · 10 months

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★ 彡 SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. ✧ MIGUEL O'HARA { I }

✮ main summary. . miguel has this crazy idea of having consistent sex with you for seven days - a whole week - of your time. could you survive that?

✮ chapter 01 summary. . it started with a crazy idea from miguel proposing to start the day of the week with a bang.

✮ cw. . explicit content (18+), sexual intercourse, mutual masturbation, missionary, mating press.

✮ tags. . modern + roommates au, situationship with miguel, forced proximity, unspoken mutual pining. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. . 2,129

Miguel: Could you meet me in the living room when you return for a few minutes? There’s something I want to talk to you about.

That was the text message you received from Miguel when you finished loading the car with groceries. He doesn’t elaborate anything further than that which has you curious.

You begin to think of what Miguel possibly wishes to talk to you about. The two of you get along well as roommates, having shared the same house for a good two and a half years. Miguel is an attractive man and there were times when the attraction turned into temptation of lust. It’s difficult to ignore the attraction that’s been lingering between the two of you. The side glances from a distance, the proximity of skin and heat whenever a part of each other’s body brushes against one another. Both your patience snapped one night which led to the two of you ripping each other’s clothes and locked up in his bedroom for a long night of sex.

You didn’t think in your life you would immediately get addicted to the way Miguel fucks you. But you did. You would feel empty, alone unless he fills you up to the brim. It embarrassed you initially because you’ve always held yourself back from being intimate with anyone. And you don’t want things to get awkward between you and Miguel, consider you get along with him before the hook-up.

After discussing with him, you and Miguel come to a mutual agreement having a beneficial relationship of being roommates who fuck each other whenever it’s convenient. In other words, an arrangement of casual sex.

You begin to unload your things from the car into the shared apartment. The house is still empty and most likely. Miguel would still be at work even though his working hours were over not long ago. Maybe he’s running late for the time being.

You proceed to unload the groceries in the kitchen, putting away the dry and packed foods in the cupboards and the fresh foods in the fridge. And since you have time to spare until Miguel gets back, you de-stress yourself by taking a shower.

When you’re done and freshen up, you head downstairs and ready to settle in the living room to watch something on the TV, when you hear the front door unlock. You know that he’s back and it’s roughly the right time he usually does.

“Hey, welcome home.”

When he enters the living room, Miguel calls your name to greet you, then walks past into the joined kitchen. You follow him into the kitchen, seeing his muscles flex under his white-sleeved shirt as he opens up the fridge door. “How was work today?”

“It’s a pretty good day, surprisingly,” Miguel responds. He unpacks his lunch box, cleans it up, and then puts it away. The way he does it feels so domesticating to you and it warms your heart a little.

“I got your message,” you say. “You said that there’s something that you want to talk to me about?”

Miguel stops to look at you. The corner of his lips curves into a smirk. “Si, hermosa,” he begins. “It’s about our arrangement.”

The tone of his voice makes you pay attention to him fully. A part of you fears that he wishes to stop being beneficial roommates, possibly he could have found someone else more to his taste. Or maybe he’s in a committed relationship. You wish what he wishes to talk to you about is because of either. Your heart drums in your chest uncomfortably. You’ve had feelings for him for months and you don’t think that you’re ready to hear the news of spending less time with him.

“What about our arrangement?” You ask.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Miguel says. He must have sensed your nervousness. “It’s a good discussion, depending on how you see it.” The man adds with a soft chuckle.

His words puzzle you. It doesn’t sound like it would be as bad as you thought it would be, much to your relief. You feel your shoulders relax but you barely recover from the tension the moment Miguel tells you his reason for wanting to talk to you.

“What do you think of us having sex together for a whole week?”

It takes you a whole minute of silence for you to process the information. “You want us to do it… for seven days straight?” You say with a disbelief tone. “Are you out of your mind, Miguel?”

The smirk on his face tells you that he is serious. You’re someone who needs rest for a day or two to recover from an intense session of sex. But Miguel is someone who can go round after round in a day. Because sex with him is usually intense and leaves you a little shakier than you could cope. You don’t know how you could survive doing it for the whole week.

“For seven days straight,” He repeats.

You couldn’t help but laugh contemptuously at the absurdity. “That’s not what I signed up for when we hooked up.” You say. “In what world do you think that this is a good idea? Do we even have the time to do that?”

Well, considering that you and Miguel have worked around the past several months, you know that the two of you can figure something out. More like, Miguel would find a way. Despite it sounds like it’s a sexacation (vacation of sex) that is too good to be true, your schedule and Miguel’s don’t always align. You both work and have other commitments not related to casual sex. It’s the reason why sex is usually reserved for Friday nights and weekends when you’re both free.

“We’ll make time, chica,” Miguel smirks. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Not so sure about that.”

“You don’t think I can pull it off?” He asks in confidence.

“I think you’re insane,” you say before leaving the kitchen to go to the living room.

Miguel calls your name and he follows you behind. “It would only be just for one week. You think that you wouldn’t enjoy having sex with me for a week?”

You turn to face him and he is right behind you. “Fine, prove it.”

Miguel smirks and he doesn’t hesitate for a second. He pulls you by the waist and back of your head, taking you in a passionate kiss. It’s a little rushed and confrontational. His mouth moves in a slow rhythm whilst his hands roam your body, pulling and grabbing. It takes one kiss— a taste of his lips— and your head is spinning in a whirlwind.

You’re moved to the sofa as Miguel carries you in his arms. “I’ll go easy on you, hermosa,” Miguel whispers against your lips. He goes forward on you again and deepens the kiss for a brief moment before he pulls away again. His tongue drags you to feel his heated mouth. You try to chase after his lips as Miguel hovers above you, teasing your mouth.

“It’s Monday today, so let’s start with something easy first.” He says. “Masturbation rhymes with Monday, hm?” Miguel nuzzles his nose against yours. “Then missionary, mating…”

“You’re unbelievable.” You whisper against his lips. Though it doesn’t stop you from clinging onto him. Holding him by his biceps.

“Is that a yes?” Miguel smirks. He drags his hands from your sides down to your hips, moving his hand across your lower belly down between your legs. It makes your breath hitch when his hand touches over your shorts. His fingers tracing your clothed cunt. “To our first challenge?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling him into a needy kiss. Miguel takes this as a yes and his fingers curl onto the band of your shorts, while your hand does the same to his pants. You return the favour by groping him gently, rubbing your palm on his semi-hard bulge, and you hear Miguel groan against your lips. Both your shorts and his pants are taken off and left discarded somewhere in the room, followed by the rest of your attire of shirts, undies and briefs.

“Dios mío, would you look at that?” Miguel says with a smirk on his face.

“Shut up.” You mumble. You don’t need to look at yourself to know what he’s talking about—you know that you’re already wet. When Miguel glides his fingers between your folds—all aroused and slippery–you groan softly at the feeling. One of your hands goes to his cock, thumb toying with the tip of its head as you begin to jerk him off. The other begins to start stroking his girth.

“Fuck.” Miguel nips on your neck at the area below your ear. With his fingers rubbing your cunt and you stroking his cock, you’re both in a mess. Pleasuring each other in sync. The more Miguel rubs down your clit, the more you moan and the faster you move your hand up and down his length. The neediness grows in the room and every touch feels so good. Your body responds to his touch, making your toes curl and thighs tremble.

“Mierda, that’s it, baby. Shit.” Miguel groans. He rubs your cunt faster as you get wetter that it squelches. You try to keep up with the pace and give as much pleasure with every stroke as he touches your clit and labia. The build-up pleasure creeps him out when you clutch one of your hands on his forearms.

It becomes too much, both of you moaning and gasping against each other’s lips. The neediness shows when you feel close to orgasm and Miguel’s cock throbbing in your hand. You feel your lips brush against his lips in a heated kiss, his hand which was playing with your cunt, is pulled away and now holding your hips. He pulls away and stares at you before grabbing his cock and rubbing it against your slit, letting you feel the tip that sends the urge of needing him inside of you.

“Don’t move,” Miguel tells you. He holds onto your legs by your calves, opening yourself up to him a bit more. Miguel almost loses his composure when he feels you engulf him with your warm heat because of how wet you’re already from the masturbation. All wet and perfect for him, making him groan when he bottoms out, and gasp from you.

The two of you are still for a moment before Miguel starts thrusting. His cock fills you up so nicely and it hits your G-spot and rubs your clit with every stroke. You always clench around him with each thrust and Miguel loves it, seeing you writhing and moaning because of him. You’re clutching your nails on his back as his hips move continuously. Moaning and whining his name at how deep he thrusts into you. The way Miguel raises your hips and settles your lower body on his thighs angles him to fuck deeper into you. Making your back arch in pleasure and your body writhe.

“Fuck, fuck, nena,” Miguel moans above you. Gripping onto the sofa cushion he feels himself over to the edge of orgasm. “Doing this with you for a whole week is going to be the best thing in my life.”

“Miguel,” you whine. His stamina is greater than yours so you’re not surprised that he can keep up thrusting into you. You tighten with each movement, the room grows hotter as both you and Miguel move in a pleasant, constant wave.

Both your legs are propped up in the air and placed on his shoulders. Miguel angles you a little higher as he holds onto your legs by your thighs. Feeling your ass cheeks on his hips. Your body tenses and back arches when Miguel doesn’t slow down his thrusts. Grunting as he speeds up and repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “You’re going to come so much like this,” Miguel pants.

And he’s right. Because your body twitches the moment you feel a strong wave of orgasm coursing through you. Miguel doesn’t slow down when you release and his thrusts feel urgent. Slapping himself onto you and ramming in your cunt until his cock twitches, soon spilling his come inside you with a loud moan.

The two of you are out of breath. Miguel gently puts down your legs onto the sofa though his cock is still nestled inside you. You’re both looking at each other, still feeling the effects of the climaxes. “Same time again for tomorrow?” He asks.

You sigh and lean back against the armrest, feeling out of breath. Even then, you still manage to make a joke regarding the situation. “Same position tomorrow?”

“A different one every day.” Miguel chuckles. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

He smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead and it sends a rush of warmth to your core. It’s not meant to be a tender display of affection, but it doesn’t help that it still makes your heart skip a beat. “Now, are you hungry for dinner tonight?”

#★彡 oharababe : writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel atsv #fic: sdaw #the miguel effect #across the spiderverse imagine #across the spiderverse miguel

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absideon-ephemeral · 1 year

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Dog Tags | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x (fem) reader

Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.

A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.

Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.

There was something about them.

Those fucking dog tags.

He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.

They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).

But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .

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It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.

For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.

It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.

And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.

So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.

Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.

There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.

The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.

“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.

Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.

“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”

You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.

Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.

But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.

His dog tags.

The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.

Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.

For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.

“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.

He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.

“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.

“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”

A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”

His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”

A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”

A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.

“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”

———————————————————————

And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.

So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barns x y/n #firsteveroneshot

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periprose · 11 months

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Playstation Spidey is sooo blorbo- I love himmm. May I request something where Pete and Reader have been too preoccupied with studying and taking exams all week that when their date arrives on Saturday, they don't do anything but makeout instead cause they miss each other so much?🥲 (I just wish I had a Peter Parker to kiss😔)

I love him too and this idea is just 🤌🤌. I hope it's okay I made this a friends to lovers instead? :)

Your phone buzzes with a new message from Peter.

Peter: hey we still good for Saturday? the study date at the library?

Peter: sorry for not picking up earlier. Phys 403 is kicking my ass 🥹

You giggle to yourself. Peter had been so excited to see you this week- he was terribly busy with internships and FEAST and every single exam that was assigned this week.

You had half the workload he did, and you struggled to finish things, so you had no idea how he did it. It was quite irritating, not being able to catch up with Peter as often as you'd like, but you were hanging on for Saturday.

Even now- he strangely missed your calls and would usually pick up ASAP- and May's told you he's not at FEAST, so it's really confusing to you where he'd be. But you're not concerned, because you have exams to study for.

You: Yea we're still good pete

You: don't stress about it. worry about your exam

Peter: 🫡 will do ma'am

You laugh, picturing Peter saluting to himself.

The timer for your Shakespeare exam just rings as you hand it in to your professor, who gives you a firm, steely nod. You know how strict he is- he doesn't always allow for students to hand in things after the time's up, and even as you leave the classroom, you hear students pleading with him to let them hand in their exams.

You shrug to yourself, and turn the corner of one of the many hallways of Empire State University- bumping straight into Peter.

"Oh-!" You topple over, and although at your trajectory in the air you should've fallen over Peter, he somehow has enough strength to keep you upright in the air, holding you gently by the waist, and before you can think too much about his surprisingly strong capabilities, he's set you down again already.

"All good?" Peter asks, and you nod bashfully.

"Yeah. Just finished my Shakespeare exam. Not sure if I did all that well." You tell him, and Peter raises his eyebrows.

"With Strict Dr. Powell, huh?" Peter gives a wary glance past your shoulder, and then leans in extra close, seemingly not noticing how you fail to maintain eye contact. "Just between you and me, I'm pretty sure he's not actually tenured."

"What?" You stare up at him in surprise. "How else would he be qualified to teach a fourth year English course?"

"Well, let's just say I did a little sleuthing after getting a C- on my last essay. I know, I know what you're going to say-" Peter shushes you as you laugh, taunting him about an unusually low grade. "It was on Asimov, you know? Father of Science Fiction?"

"I think that was H.G. Wells, Pete."

"Right, whatever." But Peter's features bristle with that familiar fondness for you, and you smile softly at him as he continues. "I knew even if my essay wasn't perfect, a C- was really lowballing what it should've been. So I searched some of the school records, and he's actually named Powalski. ESU's letting him stay tenured even though he's only been a professor for five years. My guess is that they owe him some kind of favour."

"And that's why our poor student body has to worry about failing English classes this year, when they should be easy. Because of one crazy professor." You surmise, and Peter nods. "Still, I can't believe you went through the school records! How did you even access them?"

"Uhhhh..." Peter shrugs as he starts backing away, a slightly flustered look on his face. "Parker luck?"

"Peter, I thought that was supposed to mean bad luck." You retort, laughing over his antics.

"Yeah, I never said I wasn't in hot water for doing that." Peter jokes, and he flashes a peace sign at you. "I gotta head to my Physics exam. Talk to you later?"

Before you can respond, Peter suddenly squeezes your shoulder in a quick move, and he takes a moment, staring at your face, and your mouth, before dashing off. "I'm sure you did great on your exam, regardless!"

"Thanks." You're left with a sheepish smile that you shake off your face when Peter's far in the distance, unaware that he's got the same expression on his face.

Peter's kind of struggling a little bit with physics.

Sure, he's a total brainiac, and he's sure to ace it even with his current mood- he's just terribly distracted.

You smelt really good today. Like warm, vanilla-cinnamon goodness. Peter's heightened senses tell him you've got a new perfume.

But he's more focusing on your lips for some reason. Ugh, no. Peter knows why he focuses so much on your lips- you just happen to smile in the cutest, sweetest way.

And just now- you had laughed in the funniest way, your lips curling into a pout that Peter was sure was seared into his mind for good.

Oh, no. I'm a total goner. He gets back to his exam, ignoring this urge to kiss you.

There's a knock at your apartment door just as you're finishing tidying up. Your living room tends to be pretty ugly, and the last thing you want is for Peter to think you're a slob.

Peter calls your name through the door. "I'm not going to think you're anymore messy than I am. Stop cleaning! We gotta leave soon if we want to make it for our allotted study room time, and I just need to use the bathroom."

You shake your head, give yourself one last glance in the mirror, and then open the door.

"Finally. God, dude, you would think your apartment is a pigsty or something. I'm only going to be in here for five minutes." Peter jokes. "You would hate to see mine."

"Is that why you've never invited me there?"

"Uh, yeah. Otherwise you could crash whenever you wanted to there." Peter suddenly turns red. "I mean... you know, you're always tired after class and your apartment is further away from ESU than mine is."

"It's fine, Peter. No need for rambling." You reach forward, wanting to take the books out of his hands- you notice a slight scar on his palm. "Hey, what's that?"

"Ah, just an accident at Octavius' place. No big deal, it'll be gone before I know it." Peter randomly opens a door. "This the bathroom? No, it's a closet. Darn these misleading doors..."

"Down the hall, to the right, Peter."

He nods, and you suddenly feel a wave of giddy energy as he's gone. Yes, you've crushed on Peter for a while- you just don't think it's going to go anywhere since you're both so busy.

You're reapplying your lip balm when Peter wanders back to you a couple minutes later.

"Ah, should we go?" You say, slightly muffled as you continue reapplying. It's a delicious honeydew flavour- you can't help but eat your lip balm off your lips from time to time.

"Yeah..." Peter struggles to say something, anything, and you catch his eyes drifting from yours, to your lips.

"Is something wrong?" You look up at him uncertainly. "There wasn't enough toilet paper, was there?"

"Shoot. Might've used the last bit, sorry." Peter jokes, but he turns quiet, and he grows a little pink.

"Well, if that's all, let's get going." You put your lip balm back in your pocket, and move to get your coat out of the closet, but Peter grabs your arm with that too-quick motion he always seems to possess.

Peter wordlessly cradles your face- there's something echoing through his expression right now, affection, the kind, softness you've always known him to possess, but something else, too. Yearning.

You can't help but smile up slightly confused at him, not sure of his intentions, and while you're not stupid, you're not going to assume anything.

Peter doesn't hesitate and simply leans in and kisses you, a soft kiss that turns a lot more firm as you're pulled inwards by his hands, and you eagerly kiss him back, and you feel him grinning widely when he knows that you've wanted this as much as he had.

It's easy, it's always fun when it's with you, and he figures you both need stress relief anyways. Rather than studying chemistry in the library.

You reach upwards, and run your fingers through his brown, soft hair, and Peter groans ever so slightly against your mouth, which pleases you.

Suddenly he lets go, deeply red and looking a little woozy, but he still holds you close. "Sorry, I- I got a little carried away there."

"Don't be sorry. I wanted to do that too." You admit, a little shyly. "Are you okay with not studying?"

"Really? That's what's on your mind?" Peter looks genuinely a little aghast, even if he is joking. "I must've not kissed you hard enough."

Peter brings you to your couch, where you kiss him again, taking the lead in a way that makes his stomach flip-flop, not dissimilar to the way he feels when he free-falls off a building. You clamber onto his lap, trying to be gentle- and he pulls you down fully on him, wanting to feel every inch, every millimeter, even, against his body. There's an excited thump in his body for every squeeze he makes against you, and he feels his restraint leaving him when you suddenly sweep your tongue into his mouth.

Even when you leave room for air, Peter is insistent, reaching forward with more little kisses all over your cheek, and you reach back again for him, pressing your lips against his, feeling like there's no need to ruin this time with talking.

He really likes that. These are precious moments, few to be found considering how busy you both are, and Peter intends to make the most of it.

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t-r99 · 5 months

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Obsessed

Oliver loves you so much, why can't you see that?

Oliver Aiku x fem reader

College au

Aiku is lowkey a lunatic (completey delusional & unhinged)

warnings: stalking, mental torture, manipulation, deception, gaslightning, coercion || anxiety, paranoia, brief panic attack || dub con bordering on non con (blink and you miss it brief and tame smut at the end *whispers* spooning)

This was supposed to be pure porn but I changed my mind. It did not turn out the way I wanted.

Quick background: mc is being stalked by someone who keeps texting and sending pictures and has been for weeks.

Given that this is a blue lock fic, all of readers friends are guys heh.

wc: 10k

God, why did I stay so long? You think. You usually don't stay at the library for this long, preferring to quickly find the books you need in the moment then leave.

Staying this long means you'll walk home well after sunset. Hours after sunset means it's dark. Darkness means it's easier to follow people. Following someone walking alone means-

I'm overthinking again. You sigh.

This is torture.

It's been a few days since the last text you received. You can't help but to open your phone several times a day and read all the shit the person has sent in the past few weeks, hoping to figure out who they are.

It feels like you're being watched.

You take in every last little detail of your surroundings.

A few people are out and walking who knows where, some of them familiar. You've seen them at school.

Almost home, You tell yourself. The apartment building you call home is less than a minute away.

You turn to look behind you, but no one is following you like you thought . . . and it feels like you're going crazy.

At this point, you expect a text from another unknown ID welcoming you home. The guy on the other side does it sometimes. It's bad enough that he knows which building you live in, you just hope he doesn't know which apartment is yours. You may as well dig your own grave if he does.

The elevator feels suffocating when you step in. You're alone but you keep expecting it to stop before it reaches your floor and that someone else will step in.

What if he steps in? What if you end up alone in this tiny little box with your worst nightmare and-

Ding.

You gasp at the sound, only staying still for a half a second before stepping out.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. What if he's is behind you? What if he's waiting for you to open the door so he can push you in and trap you?

You turn around, heart pounding.

There's no one there.

Just as you unlock your door, another opens a few steps away and you hear familiar voices. Out of the other apartment steps Aiku, and then you see Otoya, they're saying bye for tonight. It's the latter's apartment, you remember.

Aiku spots you but you look away and ignore him. You know them both, not that you particularly like them or enjoy their company, it's just that you share the same friends. You almost wish you were actually being followed for a second so Otoya and Aiku could beat the guy senseless.

Otoya pops his head out the doorframe and asks if you're okay when he sees that you're stressed.

Ignoring them both, you step inside and close the door behind you.

Home.

You're home.

I'm home, You tell yourself, repeating it iver and over for a few seconds.

There's a knock on the door and your heart almost leaps out of your chest.

It's him, it's him, it's him, it's hi-

You hear a familiar voice call your name, followed by, "Everything okay?" It's Aiku.

You gulp and take a deep breath before cracking the door just enough to see his face. Otoya is standing behind him and asks, "Something happen?"

"I'm fine, I," You gulp again, feeling lightheaded. "I just need some rest."

"Sure?" Aiku asks. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine, I promise." You insist. "I'm going to bed."

"'kaaay," Otoya gives a peace sign. "night."

You close the door and take a moment to try to calm yourself.

Outside, Otoya strains to not laugh out loud. He can't help it, though, forced to slap a hand against his mouth to muffle the sound of his amused giggling.

Aiku hushes him and smirks. "Shut up, you'll ruin everything." He says.

"Seriously, dude, why do you even bother at this point?"

Who knows? Maybe Oliver has gotten a bit obsessed. He won't give up until he gets what he wants, and he wants you.

Aiku doesn't just want sex. He wants you.

"It'll be worth it." He says.

Sure, you don't want him yet, but you will soon.

You feel a bit better after a long and warm shower, not a lot, but at least it's something.

You haven't eaten. Honestly, you can't find it in you to eat these days. Sometimes two or even three days pass before you realize you're starving. You've been losing weight for weeks, and looking in the mirror now you see just how much it has affected you.

Aiku was right, you're pale.

Look at me. You feel disgusted by the sight.

It takes you a few moments to force yourself to look away and leave the bathroom to go get dressed. Despite living several floors above the ground, with no buildings facing your bedroom window, you still feel the need to pull the curtain to hide.

What if he is watching? It's impossible to know.

You quickly get dressed, not comfortable with being naked even in your own bedroom with the windows covered, and then it happens again.

Two quick vibrations, the sound of a text, make your heart stop for a second.

Again, two vibrations.

Another two . . .

That's three texts.

Your hand shakes as you reach out for the phone that you honestly just want to smash up. You want to throw away all your electronics and find a cave out in the wilderness to hide in so no one will ever be able to contact you again.

The first one says exactly what you expect, Welcome home.

He was watching you walk home.

You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous. The second text is almost funny.

The third makes your blood run cold, Don't worry. I'll protect you.

When will this end?

While you're holding the phone, he sends a picture. This is the fourth time he's done this exact thing, having written, I don't know where you live. Maybe I should come in and knock on every door until I find yours.

It's a picture of the entrance to the building.

There's a knock on your apartment door.

. . . No.

You dare not move.

Should you look through the peephole? What if it's him and you finally get to see who it is? It could be someone you know, or maybe a complete stranger.

Another knock.

Go away. You want to scream. You want to yell at him to leave you alone.

No more knocks follow.

You don't know how long you stand frozen in your spot, taking slow breaths and standing as still and as quietly as you can.

Only when your feet hurt from standing there for so long do you finally snap out of it. You take your phone and set it to airplane mode, and you lock yourself in the bathroom.

There you remain until morning.

Of course you don't sleep.

You think about calling a friend to come over so you won't have to walk to school alone, or maybe you should just skip today and stay home.

Please . . . You curl up in the corner and sob. I can't take it anymore.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you leave the bathroom.

Staying home felt like the best thing to do. At least he doesn't know which apartment is yours so you can just stay in and not go out where he can spot and follow you again.

Your phone is still on airplane mode and you contemplate turning the function off. Will you only find texts from your friends asking why you didn't show up today or will you get more messages from him?

I'm hungry. You didn't eat last night.

There's very little in your kitchen and your heart sinks when you realize you have to go get some groceries soon.

There's a knock . . .

You gasp at the sound and turn to look at the door. It's the middle of the day so there's no way it's him. He only fucks with you after dark so-

Another knock.

You faintly hear someone call your name. "It's Otoya, you okay in there?"

That's a relief.

The front door cracks open and you look up at him. Otoya rarely shows much emotion on his face but you actually see some worry in his eyes. "Everything okay? You didn't show up at school."

You gulp. "I don't . . . feel very well." Your voice is hoarse and your throat feels rough, itching as you speak.

"I noticed last night. I just wanted to make sure you were all right so I knocked but you didn't answer."

Oh, it was him? It was just Otoya, not the guy on the other end of the phone. "Sorry," You say quietly. "I must've fallen asleep." You lie.

"No worries. Just come over if you ever need anything, yeah?"

"Yeah." You murmur. "Thanks."

You wonder just how messed up you look if it's enough to make Otoya of all people worry.

I'm going crazy. You close the door and sniffle, eyes welling with tears.

A few quiet days pass and it is actually nerve wracking. Normally you would be happy, no texts, no paranoia and the feeling of being watched, but after those texts and the picture of the building entrance you just can't relax.

It feels like the calm before the storm.

You can't shake off the feeling that you're being watched everywhere you go, on campus, on the road, sometimes even when you're at home, feeling the need to check every inch of the apartment multiple times a day to make sure you're actually alone.

"You okay? You've been staring at the textbook forever." Chigiri's voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hm?"

He looks worried. Everyone has been worried about you lately, it makes you feel hopeless and pathetic. "More stalker texts?"

You shake your head. "Not for a few days." Your voice is small, heavy with sleep deprivation. "But everytime someone calls or texts or," Just talking about this makes you nauseous. "whenever someone knocks on my door I don't know what to think."

Before Chigiri can say anything else, a few of the other guys show up. Isagi comes and reminds him that they have training soon.

Why does it feel like all eyes are on you?

You're uncomfortable.

"I think I'll go home." You say. Before it gets dark.

"Sure you'll be okay on your own?" Chigiri asks.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's fine." You clear your throat and close your textbook. "I'm fine." You insist.

Keeping your gaze down, you ignore everyone and mutter a quick bye, missing the way a pair of dual coloured eyes watch you walk away.

Thank goodness that the sun is still high in the sky as you walk home.

Is this to be your new normal? Are you supposed to live the rest of your life in a constant state of panic?

Still no texts. No creepy pictures of your building. No knocking on the door. To be fair, it was Otoya, not some creepy lunatic of a stalker.

You sit down on your bed with a defeated bed then fall back.

"I hate this." You whisper.

It's been a week since the night you spent terrified in the bathroom. He has still not sent anything, and for once you're actually in a better mood. Maybe he got bored of me, You think, and you truly hope that that's the case.

The days are growing shorter and colder. Winter is right around the corner and you wonder how you'll feel once it starts getting dark outside earlier. Your mind drifts back to the text that said, You shouldn't be out alone in the dark, it's dangerous.

Yeah, it can be dangerous alright. You haven't felt safe in a long time thanks to the bastard.

You're getting ready to eat, reaching up to the cabinet to grab a plate when there's a knock on the door.

Is it him?

Fuck, what if it is?

No, nothing has happened lately, You tell yourself.

More knocking . . .

You set the plate down on the counter and go to the door, wondering if it's one of your friends. Quite a few of them live in the same building, cheap and close to campus.

Upon opening the door, you find that there's no one there.

Oh, God . . .

Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck.

Your phone vibrates and the sound makes you jump.

You don't want to check it.

No.

Damn it.

When will this stop?

It's kind of funny. Otoya peers over Aiku's shoulder and cracks up. "Dude, you'll end up giving the chick a heart attack one day."

What Oliver wants is to be there when you need someone and be the one you lean on for emotional support. He'll have you depending on him in no time. "Hey, you told her to come over if she needs help, right?"

"Uh huh."

Aiku hopes you'll do it now. He's going at this pretty hard and doubts you'll stay alone in your apartment when you think your stalker is in the building. Everyone you know in the building live on other floors while Otoya's apartment is the only one close to yours. Come on, doll, don't disappoint me now.

Oliver wants to jump and pump his fist in success when he hears a knock on Otoya's door. He stays on the couch while his friend goes to open, hearing him say, "Hey, you okay?"

Aiku gets off the couch and goes to the hall where you're standing right outside. You're trying to keep yourself calm but he can see panic in your eyes, those beautiful eyes that should be on him and only him. "Have, uhm . . ." You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Have you heard anyone outside?"

"No, why?" Otoya feigns ignorance. "Are you sure you're okay? You're shaking."

Oliver almost feels bad, but he just needs to make sure his plan works. If everything ends up working out then he's only a few days away from being able to call you his and hold and comfort you. "Stalker again?" He asks.

Aiku doesn't like using that word. It makes him feel like a creep. He's not a creep, he just wants you to be his but you're not making it easy for him.

Your only reply is a small nod.

Otoya steps aside. "Okay, come on. Come in." He urges you to step inside and you're more than happy to. "What happened this time? Did he text again?"

"I- I think he . . . I think he's i- in the building."

Oh, you poor thing.

Oliver tells you to sit down on the couch. You're holding your phone, clutching it tightly.

He doesn't need to give Otoya a look that silently asks him to help out. His friend already knows what to do while Oliver talks to you and tries to calm you down.

Your mind is racing with a million questions, but it goes blank when your phone vibrates in your hand and you look down at it in terror, too scared to check the text.

Oliver looks down at it. "Here, let me." He offers. Your hand is shaking when he takes it from you. "It's okay, I got you." He takes your hand in his and rubs soothing circles on the back. What did Otoya text, he wonders.

Aiku wants to laugh when he reads it. It includes the number of Otoya's apartment, followed by, Is this your place? I can hear your pretty voice coming from inside.

Damn, he really couldn't have asked for a better bro.

"What . . . What does . . ."

Oliver hushes you gently and locks the phone instead of showing you. "It's okay, we'll deal with the guy."

Otoya steps behind the couch. "What's up?"

"You want to check if there's anyone in the hall?" Oliver asks. He's still holding your hand.

"I got it." Otoya gives a thumbs up and heads out. You want to tell him to stay inside, scared that the stalker might be dangerous, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

"Hey, it's okay." Oliver says softly. "Everything will be okay." He lets go of your hand and puts his arm around you instead when you exhale shakily and sob hopelessly.

You're just tired at this point. The past several weeks have left you so paranoid and terrified that you can't sleep. You don't eat, barely drink, you struggle to take care of yourself. It's beyond tiring. "I'm scared . . ." You whisper.

Oliver holds you close. He feels all warm inside like this, loving the feeling of your smaller body in his embrace like he's wanted for so long. He looks down at where your cheek is pressed against his chest and put his other arm around you comfortingly.

You're his.

You don't know it yet but you are his.

I fell asleep . . . Your eyes flutter partially open. You wonder when you did, and how you even managed to given how scared you were. How scared you still are.

A pair of arms are around you. You open your eyes further and see that you're in an apartment you don't recognize, then you look up and see that you're being held by a sleeping Aiku, and you remember that you're in Otoya's apartment.

You don't exactly dislike the two, it's just that you don't like their womanizing and their attitudes. Who would have ever thought that you would go to Otoya's place in a panic and be comforted by Aiku of all people?

Oliver wakes up when you move in his arms. "Hey," He clears his throat and blinks. "Hey, you feel any better?"

A tiny bit maybe. "I guess." You say in a small voice. You still don't want to go back to your own apartment where you'll just end up hiding in the bathroom at the sound of your phone receiving a text or a knock on your door.

Aiku can easily see that you're still shaken up and he hopes you'll let him hold you like this even longer.

You exhale shakily. "I don't want to be alone . . ."

"You're not alone, I got you." He rubs your back gently.

It feels nice . . . "Thank you." You whisper, relaxing further against him.

Oliver bites his bottom lip and smiles. You're starting to warm up to him, it's perfect.

It's been a few days and you can't stop thinking about that night. Otoya didn't find anyone in the hallway so you still have no idea who he is, but the one thing you can't stop thinking about is how comforting it was to be held by Aiku.

You feel ridiculous for it, even more so whenever you see him and feel your cheeks heat up.

He asks how you're doing everyday now and if anything else has happened since that night.

It's embarrassing how you almost immediately relaxed so much you actually fell asleep in his arms back then and it makes you want to avoid him.

Oliver hates that. He was so happy to have finally managed to push you to him for support, but now you don't talk to him other than short answers where you tell him you're doing okay whenever he asks, and he can't stand it.

He hates having to scare you so much. Why are you being so stubborn? Why do you try to hide how much it affects you? All you're doing is forcing his hand at this point. Why won't you just let him in?

He contemplates sending a text or two or maybe a picture of your apartment building. Those don't usually do much, though. Aiku exhales heavily as he tries to think of something more effective.

The door knocking was enough to get you to go to Otoya's apartment, but no more than that.

What to do? What to do?

Oliver doesn't want to threaten you. He doesn't want to scare you like that. You're his special girl, after all.

What to do?

It's gotten dark, You think grimly.

Classes are done for the day and now you're forced to walk home in the dark. The boys have training in a bit so you can't walk back to the student apartments with any of them, and all your other friends live in the opposite direction. It would be rude to ask someone to accompany you home and in turn force them to walk twice as far back to their own place.

Damn bastard.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pick it up.

The colour drains from your face when you unlock it and open the text you've received, a picture of you right this moment.

The picture has been taken from your left. You turn in a flash to see if you can spot the stalker, but you only see your peers. Some are standing in groups and talking to their friends, others are looking down at their phones as they're leaving for the day.

Who is it?

Who could it be?

Where is he?

"Hey,"

You spin around with a sharp gasp at the feeling of someone touching your arm.

"Shit, did something happen?" It's just Aiku. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He steps back to give you space. "What happened?"

You're breathing too fast for comfort now, unable to speak. All you manage to do is point in the direction behind you and look down at your phone.

"Again? What the hell does the guy want now? Show me."

Hands shaking, you take a moment to unlock your phone and open your texts. Aiku takes your phone and reads the message from the No Caller ID that says, You look really good today. He open the picture and takes a sharp breath.

"Sick fuck." He spits. "Hey, don't look down at it. Look at me." He holds your shoulder. "Look at me. It's okay, I'm right here. You're not alone now, okay?"

You're not alone.

Aiku is with you right now and that brings you comfort.

"'m scared . . ."

"I know," He says softly. "I know. Everything will be okay, we'll figure out who the guy is."

You've lost any hope of that happening.

"Hey, come on, I'll walk you home, yeah?"

You gulp. "B- But . . . practice . . ."

"It's fine. I can skip this one time. You shouldn't be alone right now."

You only nod at that, grateful to not be on your own. Having Aiku walk next you makes you feel safer than you have in months, but you honestly feel guilty about all this and want to apologize for having go through all this trouble just because you're too scared to do anything on your own.

"How you holdin' up?"

You look down at the ground as you keep walking. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Oliver turns to you. "What for?"

"For . . . all this."

Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. "What, for being scared?" Aiku asks. "For needing help? I'd be surprised if you weren't scared. Everyone needs support sometimes, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

You're fighting back tears. "But I . . . I- I shouldn't need to be walked home like this."

Oliver frowns at that. Does that mean you don't want him there? You're really not making this easy for him. "It's okay, I don't mind."

You finally look up and turn to him, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Aiku wonders if you'll let him wipe them from your cheeks if they fall. He would love nothing more than to comfort you like a man and hold you close. He can't even begin to imagine how good it would feel.

When you turn away from him to look ahead again, Oliver carefully takes his phone and does his utmost to make sure you don't spot it.

He sets his caller ID to hidden and types away . . .

You're startled by the feeling of your phone vibrating. You've grown to hate it. Most of the time it signals a text from a hidden number from your nightmares.

You read the text. It sends chills down your spine. Got a boyfriend, huh? Did you forget about me, sweetheart? It says.

You freeze in your tracks and Aiku stops a step later.

"You good?"

No. No you're not.

You simply hold the screen out for him to read. Aiku puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. You look up at his hard face, he's looking all around you. "Damn psycho." He mutters harshly. "Come on, let's hurry."

He doesn't need to tell you twice.

Terrified out of your mind, you reach both hands out and hold his arm for safety. It's not much, but it does make you feel a bit better.

Oliver swears his heart skips a few beats at that. He has to use all his strength to restrain himself. Fuck, you're killing him with how long this is taking.

He stays by your side all the way up to your apartment, and there you find it impossible to let go of his arm. "Will you be okay from now on?"

Of course you won't. You shake your head in reply.

"You know," He feels warm. "I could stay over and make sure nothing happens until tomorrow. And Otoya will go home soon enough, I'll call for him if something does happen."

You really don't want to be alone. "I . . . You don't have to."

Sure, you might be saying that, but your body leans even closer against his and you let out a shaky breath.

"I'm staying." Oliver says. It's not a question. "I can't leave when you're this shaken up."

Maybe Aiku can finally scare the stalker away. "Okay . . ." You truly hope he can because this is getting ridiculous and you're exhausted.

Once he's inside, Oliver wants to yell out in triumph at how easy it was to get you to agree. Only a few more days and he won't have to keep at it. All you need to do is let him all the way in and he can put the whole thing to rest and enjoy you.

Your apartment is cute, just like you are. Oliver could stay here forever, and if his plan succeeds then he might just be able to.

Oliver decides not to send anything for now. He hates scaring you so much, and you were pretty shaken up on the walk to your apartment. It wouldn't hurt to prepare in advance, though.

You're currently taking a quick shower.

Aiku steps into your bedroom and takes a deep breath. He's never felt like this before.

He listens carefully to make sure the shower is still on.

Only a few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom with no idea of where Oliver went just minutes prior. He's still on the sofa and watching tv, just as he was when you left to shower.

Strangely enough, you don't feel uncomfortable with him there. Only a few months ago you would have rather drank acid than let him into your home, but now his presence puts you at ease.

He notices you and offers a smile. "Feel any better?"

"Yeah, a bit." You say softly.

Oliver exhales slowly when you turn around to go to the kitchen. You really are the prettiest girl he's ever seen. He can't stop thinking about what you look like under your clothes and how pretty you would luck under him.

You're his beautiful girl. He's counting the seconds to when he can finally say it outloud.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" You ask.

"Nah, I'm fine." Oliver shakes his head.

What he wants is you.

Earlier, he decided to give you a few days of peace, but now he wants to send only one text. If you get anxious again then he can be there and hold you and help you calm down.

You drink some water and take a moment to think about everything. You're lucky to have friends who care, even when you insist you're okay on your own. Even Aiku of all people is going out of his way to make sure you're not alone.

It's actually not as awkward as you thought it would be. He doesn't annoy or pester you with endless questions, instead talking to you about other things in an effort to get your mind off things.

It works, for some time.

"Are you sure about staying? I feel like I'm just inconveniencing you."

Once again, Oliver thinks you don't want him there and he feels like he's been punched in the gut. "If it helps you feel any safer, I'm more than happy to." He says. Oliver won't let you push him away now that he's so close to getting what he wants.

It's getting late.

You've brought a pillow and covers for him sleep on the sofa, and for the third time today your phone receives a text from a hidden caller ID.

It's a short text that reads, Good night, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.

Oliver frowns next to you when you tense up. "What is it? Show me."

When will it end?

He takes your phone from you and set it down on the table in front of the sofa. "The guy better pray I never find him." He mutters quietly. "Okay, c'mere, I got you." He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close.

You're even more grateful to have him there now. If you were alone you would probably lock yourself in the bathroom and cry your eyes out again. "I can't take it anymore . . ." You whimper into his chest.

Oliver hushes you softly and puts his hand on the back of your head. He leans back against the sofa and pulls you with him, now rubbing your back soothingly. It feels so good to hold you like this, he can't get enough of it.

This feels oddly calming.

Like this, all you hear is the sound of his steady heartbeat. It's soothing, helping you relax with each soft thump.

You finally manage to slow your breathing down and sigh, going limp against him. "Thank you . . ."

Oliver smiles down at you and combs his fingers through your soft hair. "Close your eyes," He says softly. "I got you."

You wake up the next morning and find that you're still in Oliver's arms. He has pulled the covers over you and is awake, running his fingers through your hair.

When he notices that you've woken up, he smiles softly. "Hey there, how do you feel?"

You want to die.

Death would be preferable to being constantly watched by some lunatic out there.

You close your eyes again. "I'm tired." You whisper. Tired of being scared, tired of constantly looking over your shoulder, tired of feeling helpless.

"Sleep well?"

The feeling of him playing with your hair is a nice one. It's weird to see such a soft side of Aiku when you've known him for a while and seen his goofier side with your shared friends. "Yeah," You mumble. "thank you."

Oliver is loving this.

Strangely enough, the following several days are quiet.

Neither of you actually agreed to it outloud, but Aiku now accompanies you on your walk home from campus everyday and it becomes a routine. If he's busy with practice or has classes after yours have all ended then you wait, and it feels nice to have him walk by your side.

You get suspicious when you don't receive any texts from the stalker, wondering when he'll send you something again and what the text will say. Ever since Oliver stayed over that night it's been radio silence.

Your friends are just as confused by the lack of texts and a few are hopeful that it means the stalker just grew tired of tormenting you, the rest are worried about what he'll send in the future.

"Bitch ass." You mumble to yourself. You hate the guy more than anything and you wish the worst for him.

It's the weekend and you've been studying ever since you came home from school.

Your phone vibrates next to you but it's not from the stalker, it's Oliver calling you.

Never in a million years would you have ever thought that seeing Aiku's contact calling you would make you feel all warm inside.

He's asking how you're doing and if everything's okay.

"Everything's fine," You say. "I try not to think about all that now that it's quiet."

"Fucking finally. Let's just hope nothing happens."

"Yeah." You sigh. "I think I'll go to bed, I'm getting tired. Thank you for being there."

"You don't need to thank me, doll, I'm happy to help." Oliver says. "I didn't want to bother by coming over, but I'm at Sendou's and getting ready to leave. He lives two floors below you."

While he talks, your phone quickly vibrates in your hand and you quickly set it on speaker to check the text you've received. It makes you jump in your seat and quickly turn around to look around in the room.

Oliver hears you shuffling around as you stand up and storm out of your bedroom to turn all the lights in your apartment. He asks if you're okay but you don't hear his voice in this state.

He is there.

He's there, he's in there, he's in your apartment.

He's watching you, you can feel it.

It feels like he'll pop out and grab you any second now.

I can't breathe. Your head feels light, like everything is spinning. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

You drop your phone and try to reach the door instead. You can't stay in there, not when he is in the apartment and watching you.

Suddenly there's loud knocking on your door and you almost scream when the sound startles you.

Is he outside or inside right now? Is he in the apartment or knocking on the door to get in?

Where is he? Where?

You hear your name being called.

The voice is familiar.

It takes you a few seconds to find the strength to stand up and reach the door, your hands shaking as you try to unlock it.

A few seconds pass and you look behind you, vision blurry and cheeks wet with tears.

There's no one behind you.

Where is he?

Finally unlocking the door, you fling it open and find Aiku and Sendou standing outside and looking worried. Oliver reaches out to hold your shoulders but you step forward instead and cling to him as your legs go weak and give out.

"Hey, hey, what happened? What's going on?" Oliver quickly asks. "What's wrong?"

"H- Here . . . Here . . . He- He's here . . ." You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Oliver hold you close and hushes you by your ear.

You hear Sendou walking down the hall and knock on a door. It opens, Otoya, and Sendou tells him to follow. They enter your apartment while Oliver sits down on the hallway floor with you in his arms. "Easy now, I got you. I got you, you're safe, I'm right here." Oliver says softly.

You sob into his chest, terrified.

"There's no one in there." You hear Sendou's voice. "Here. Look." He shows Oliver the text on your phone that's still unlocked.

You've got a nice apartment. I really like your bedroom. It's cute.

Sendou doesn't know what Oliver has been up to these past few months. No one except for Otoya does.

"Hear that?" Oliver looks down at where you're still sobbing into his chest. "There's no one in there."

That doesn't make you feel any better. You don't want to go back inside your apartment, you don't want to stay and sleep there. You shake your head and whimper, fisting his shirt at the mere thought of going back inside. Oliver hushes you again and puts a hand on the back of your head.

Sendou says, "I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay here right now." Oliver knows that Sendou genuinely worried about you, but he has no idea just how long Aiku has waited for this.

"How about staying at my place tonight?" Oliver ask in a gentle voice. "How's that sound?"

You only nod in response.

It still feels like you're being watched, you can't shake the feeling. It has you holding Oliver's hand while you walk and clinging to him desperately for safety. You're outside his apartment and feel the need to look behind you to check the hallway while he unlocks the door. "It's okay, I won't let anything happen to you." He squeezes your hand and leads you in. He closes the door and immediately turns to you, pulling you in for a hug. "You're safe here. Nothing will happen to you."

You haven't said a word since leaving your building.

"Come on, doll, let's get you to bed." He pulls back and cups your flushed cheeks where fresh tears have started running, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks gently to wipe them.

Being able to finally call you his is just within arm's reach.

"Oliver . . ."

Fuck, you're killing him.

He leans his forehead against yours, still caressing your cheeks. "I'm right here." Oliver whispers. He pulls you into another hug and waits for you to lean further against him. You even put your arms around his neck which is more than he could have asked for in the moment. "C'mere," He doesn't waste any time, moving an arm down to pick you up and hold you close. "I got you."

You keep your arms around him and your face hidden in the crook of his neck as he carries you through his apartment, only looking up when you feel something soft beneath you.

It's his bed, but you don't want to be alone right now.

Just as Oliver goes to lean back from you, you tighten your arms around him, whimpering out a desperate, "Please don't leave me."

Shit, shit, shit. Oliver is sure he's going to die now.

"You sure?" He asks, voice low.

"Please . . ." You whisper.

Oh, this is fucking perfect. This is much better than Aiku expected.

Oliver lets you lie down on his bed, and he doesn't know how to handle the view of you down there, then gets down next to you. He lets you rest your head on his arm, putting the other around your smaller frame and pulling you into his chest where you instantly close your eyes and sigh in relief. "Try to get some sleep now. You're safe here." He whispers.

"Thank you, Oliver."

He's so close to finally getting what he wants in life. What he needs.

You're my beautiful girl, Oliver thinks and smiles down at you. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and features soft and relaxed. Aiku has finally managed to turn himself into your safe space.

"Oliver . . ."

He moves his hand up to brush away the hair that covers your beautiful face. "Yeah?"

You open your eyes to look at his, dual coloured and mesmerizing. "I'm . . . I'm so scared these days."

For a moment, Oliver feels conflicted. He just wanted this, to be the one you will always seek out and rely on, but he also wonders if he's taken things too far. Seeing your pretty eyes all teary like this is breaking his heart, but he's more than happy to help you heal from this and build you back up again.

Oliver has all the time in the world now. You trust him, he knows that, and he'll never let you leave his side. "I'm sorry this is happening," He caresses your cheek, touch soft. "I'll help in any way I can."

Please, please just let him do this.

Aiku needs only you in life, why does he have to do so much to get what he wants?

Please don't push him away.

Oliver leans closer to you, eyes still locked with yours. It's a wordless plea. He's asking you if it's okay.

Please don't say no.

If you push him away now he won't know how to handle it. He doesn't want to keep scaring you.

"Oliver . . ."

He's so close.

When you don't push him away, Oliver closes the space between you and finally presses his lips to yours.

Maybe he should've waited a bit longer and given you some more time to calm down, but he can't take it anymore.

He needs you.

Oliver doesn't push for more. He breaks the kiss after only a few seconds, but it's enough for now. "That okay?" He whispers, heart pounding against his chest.

You gulp, feeling dazed. "'s okay."

Perfect.

You wake up the next morning with Oliver's arms wrapped around you. This is the third time it has happened, and by now you've grown to enjoy the feeling.

He's still asleep.

You can't help it, but you end up laying there and just watching him.

Oliver is a handsome guy, yes, but you've never looked at him like that before. You don't know when that changed during the chaos of the past few weeks, but it's not the worst thing ever.

You reach out absentmindedly and brush his bangs from his eyes. His hair is softer than you imagined, you want to run your fingers through it forever.

He stirs a bit and takes a deep breath as he wakes up, eyes fluttering open and softening as soon as they meet yours.

"Morning." You say softly, hand on his cheek.

He smiles tiredly and closes his eyes again. "Morning, doll." Oliver puts his hand over yours and traces small circles on the back of your hand. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah." Much better than you have in months.

Oliver loves that he's the reason why you feel safe enough to have a good night's sleep now. "Stay here for a few days," He opens his eyes. "I don't want you to feel like that again."

"You sure?"

"Mhm." How could he ever want anything else? "How would you feel about it?"

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You could never be." Oliver is confused by that. How could you ever think that you would be a burden to him? He leans closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. "Stay here until you feel better."

Staying with Oliver? You wouldn't exactly hate that.

Oliver has never felt happier.

You've been staying with him for a few days now, showing no signs of wanting to leave. He knows it's because he makes you feel safe, something no one else manages to do.

He does his best to make you feel comfortable in his apartment, never pushing things too far and being careful not to say the wrong thing. The last thing Aiku wants is to scare you away.

You can't leave him.

You cannot.

Oliver wouldn't know what to do without you now that he's gotten a taste of life with you by his side. He would never forgive himself if he ruined this.

"You okay?" Your soft voice pulls him from his thoughts. "You look stressed out."

That's right. He stresses himself out every time he thinks about losing you, but he will not lose you so he should stop tormenting himself. "Just a bit tired." Oliver says. He's sitting on the couch and you're standing right next to him.

Oliver wants to hold you.

He takes your hand and pulls gently, bringing you down to hin. Aiku puts his hands on your waist, like he's been doing every now and then these past few days, and leans forward to nuzzle into your shoulder.

He always feels overjoyed when you let him do this. The first time he did he was scared you would push him away.

Oliver swears he's in heaven when he feels your fingers comb through his hair.

"Thank you for letting me stay." You thank him once again.

Oliver hums softly against your shoulder then turns towards you to place a kiss on the side of your neck.

He wants you so fucking badly.

"No need to thank me." He wraps his arms around your waist. "I'm just happy you're feeling better."

Oliver doesn't need to send you any more texts as long as you're with him. Everything is perfect this way and will stay as such so long as you don't leave.

He needs to make sure you'll stay.

Oliver waits until you decide to go to sleep. You did feel bad after your first night at his place, but all he needed to do was wait for you to start overthinking again and then he could hold you in his arms all night long.

Maybe he can finally try to take it a step further.

He'll never get tired of seeing you in his bed.

Oliver loves holding you like this more than anything. Your body fits in his arms perfectly because you were made for him and him alone. My beautiful girl. Oliver caresses your cheek.

He can't get enough of you.

When he first started doing this a few days you would blush and avoid his gaze. Now, it makes you smile up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours.

"It feels like all I'm doing these days is just thank you over and over." You say. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."

Oh, if only you knew just why he was always there every time you needed someone.

Oliver feels bolder than he did days ago now. He leans down and slots his lips against yours, and it's the best thing he has ever felt.

He's careful to not push for too much and make you uncomfortable, but fuck, it's hard to restrain himself.

Oliver hopes you won't say no next.

He pushes gently on your shoulder to get you to move onto your back, and when you comply he moves on top of you. You don't seem uncomfortable or even shocked, thank fuck for that, and it spurs Aiku on.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back to look down at your flushed face. You look so pretty like this, Oliver has never felt like this before.

No one can compare to you. He regrets wasting his time on other girls when he could've focused all his attention on you instead.

"'s this okay?" He whispers.

You feel hot. Oliver makes you feel things you've never experienced. "Uh huh . . ."

He's so close to getting what he's waited for since the day he met you.

Oliver kisses you again and you welcome it eagerly, pulling him closer by putting your arms around his neck.

You're so perfect.

You're perfect.

Oliver needs you more than he needs air. He can't live without you, he loves you so much

Oliver loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

Oliver wakes up to the sound of his phone vibrating softly on the nightstand. He sighs, annoyed, reaching out to pick it up.

Otoya.

Oliver gets out of bed carefully, making sure you won't wake up as he leaves and goes to open the front door where Otoya is waiting outside and smirks in amusement when he sees Oliver. "Mission accomplished?"

"Almost." Oliver yawns. "What's up?"

Otoya holds up the phone Oliver bought to text you with most of the time a few months back. "I keep forgetting to give this back at campus but I was close by and remembered it a few minutes ago."

Oliver takes the phone. "Thanks, bro."

"Well you seem happy." Otoya notes. "Score yet?"

"No, she's more than that." Oliver would never see you as just another girl to sleep with. You're his precious love and he'll never let you go. He doesn't need anyone else, only you.

Aiku doesn't know that his special girl woke up from him getting out of bed.

You're confused by what the boys are talking about, standing by the bedroom door and listening.

"Well, be careful with that thing." Otoya nods down at the phone. "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer." Otoya puts on a sweet, girly voice and makes a cute face.

Otoya's words hit you like a punch in the gut.

Oliver slaps the side of Otoya's head playfully and says, "Shut up, that won't happen."

"Here's to hoping." Otoya fistbumps him. "Later." He turns around and waves as he walks away.

Your mind goes blank.

Oliver?

What?

Otoya's words echo in your mind, "I don't want to see the hell everyone will raise if they find out her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

Your legs go weak.

". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

You slide down to the floor.

The front door closes.

You gasp, eyes going wide.

Footsteps . . .

Oliver is coming back to the bedroom. His bedroom. The room you've been sleeping in for days. The bed you've laid with him in. The bed he's held you in every night.

". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

It has to be a joke right?

Right?!

"Oh?"

Oliver's voice makes your blood freeze.

"Hey, what are you doing on the floor?"

You look up at him, eyes wide. Otoya's words fill your mind again, ". . . her creepy stalker is actually her precious Oliveeer."

"What are . . . you . . ." Oliver realizes.

You heard.

You stare up at him in terror.

It's him.

What kind of a cruel, sadistic joke is this?

It all suddenly makes sense, how could you be so stupid? Every time something happened either Oliver or Otoya would be there. Otoya was in on it, too.

The texts, the pictures, the knocking . . . all those times you felt like you were being watched . . .

Just as Oliver moves, about to walk up to you, you shake your head. "Please don't hurt me."

"No, no, no, I would never hurt you." Oliver kneels down in front of you but you back into the wall. "I'd never hurt you, doll."

The room suddenly feels too small.

You can't stay in there, the room where you've been sleeping in Oliver's arms on his bed when he's been playing you like a damn fiddle all along.

You push yourself off the floor and try to leave the room but he stops you by grabbing your arms. "No! Let go!"

Oliver can't let you leave. You'll never come back if you run away now. "Please just listen to me for a minute," He pleads. "let me explain-"

"No!" You cry. "No, no!"

Oliver lets go of your arms to hold your face in his large hands instead. "Please, doll, listen to me." He forces you back against the wall and cages you in, wide frame preventing you from running away. You can't leave, you can't.

If he could torment you over the course of months so easily, what else is he capable of? The thought terrifies you and you can't stop the tears from running. "I trusted you . . ."

Oliver's heart breaks at the sight of your tears. Maybe he did take some things too far, but it's okay. All he needs to do is show how much he loves you. "You can still trust me, baby girl, I'd never hurt you, you know that."

"Oliver, please . . ." You whimper. "I'm scared . . ."

Scared of what? Of him? "You don't need to be scared, doll." Oliver says softly. He wipes the tears from your cheeks. "Please don't cry."

"O- Oliver . . ."

He's the one who turned you into a shell of your former self who spends every moment terrified for your safety.

Why would he do this?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Oliver whispers over and over again. "I'm sorry for scaring you, doll, I'll never do anything to hurt you again." He promised. "You're the most important person in my life, I can't live without you."

How can you trust him after learning all this?

"Please don't hate me." Oliver begs desperately. He is beyond terrified now. He can't let you leave, it would kill him. "Please don't hate me, I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you."

If he loves you so much . . . why would he put you through all this? "Y- You . . ."

"I love you." Oliver breathes. He prays you won't push him away, then leans down to kiss you desperately. "I love you," He whispers against your lips. "I love you and only you, I love you so much."

If you were in your right mind right now you would condemn him for him actions and demand answers, but you're not. You look up at Oliver, in a daze from the kiss. "Y'love . . ."

"I love you." Oliver kisses you again. "You know that I do, don't you? You know how much I love you, doll, yeah?"

You see nothing but panic and desperation in his mismatched eyes, the same ones that have only looked at you with pure adoration for weeks now. "Y- You love m- me . . ." You murmur.

"Yeah, that's right. That's right, I love you. You're the only one I've ever loved." Oliver captures your lips in a heated kiss.

There is still a tiny voice inside you that is telling you to get a grip, yelling at you to push him away. Aiku is the one who put you through so much shit that you nearly lost your sanity, the one who scared you so much you broke down.

Oliver kisses you like his life depends on it. He needs too show you just how much he loves you, he needs you to know.

"Oli- Oliver-"

He's scared that you will tell him to let you go and he can't take it. Oliver will never let you leave, not when you're finally his.

You're still crying and he hates himself for being the cause of your tears. Oliver brushes the fresh tears from your cheeks and whispers against your lips, "You'll let me love you, won't you, doll? You'll let me show you how much you mean to me, right?" He moves his hands down your body.

He loves you . . . Oliver loves you, you can see it in his eyes.

"You'll let me, won't you, baby?"

A small nod is all you manage to give as a reply.

You gasp when you feel his warm hands on your skin. He pushes your tank top up to finally feel your soft skin. Oliver has waited for this for so long, he'll be damned if it ends before it even begins. "Let me show you."

"Oliver . . ."

He steps back from the wall and pulls you with him, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down. You're overwhelmed and want to tell Oliver to wait, but he doesn't let you say anything and kisses you again.

You push on his shoulders lightly. "W- Wait . . ."

"What's wrong, doll?" Oliver coos down at you, cupping your cheek. "Just let me take care of you, I'll make you feel better."

He leans back enough to sit on his knees for a second, pulling his t shirt off and throwing it away. The sight makes you feel hot and he can see the effect it has on you. It swells Oliver's ego to know you like what you see, even if you don't say it outloud.

There's a part of you that wants to push him away but . . .

Oliver can see the doubt in your eyes.

He leans back down and brushes his lips against yours. "You want me to make you feel good, don't you?" Aiku pushes your top up. It tingles where his skin meets yours and you exhale shakily. "I'll make it all better, doll. That's what you want, ain't it?"

You gulp, and you nod.

"Yeah?" Oliver smiles and presses a quick peck to your now swollen lips. "Want me to make it better?"

"Uh huh . . ."

He has you now.

Oliver has you and he will never let you go.

Everything feels so hot . . .

You can't breathe.

You can't think.

All you feel is Oliver Aiku.

Your discovery is long forgotten. He's doing everything he can to make sure that you will never care about it again, and it's working. Every time he feels you tensing up or sees the doubt in your pretty eyes he does something new to get your mind off it.

You're on your side with his toned chest pressed against your back as he litters your nape and shoulder with kiss, one arm under you and holding you tight while his free hand roams every inch of your burning skin.

Oliver moves his hand down between your thighs that are pressed together. "O- Oli . . ."

He can't get enough of you. He's never felt so good in his life. "All f'me," Oliver whispers by your ear. "I want you so fuck'n bad, doll."

Oliver is skilled and experienced, you know that, and you should have enough common sense to not let that bother you but it does. It means he's been with plenty of other girls before you and you hate that.

He shifts his arm under you to move his hand up to hold your face, forcing you to turn your head and look back at him. "C'mere, doll." He kisses you hungrily. Oliver actually moans when he feels how wet you are.

All for him.

"Feels so good to hold you like this." Aiku pants. "You're so good for me. My good girl."

Oliver's gaze moves down to the marks on your shoulder. There aren't enough of them. You're not covered enough. He needs to leave enough marks for the whole world to know that you belong to him.

He grabs a handful of your plush thigh. "Spread 'em."

"Oliver . . ."

"You said you'd let me, remember?" He says softly. "Remember, baby? You said you'd let me love you."

That's right . . . you did.

"Here, we'll take it slow." He's okay with waiting a few more minutes if it means he can make you more needy in the process and eventually have you beg for it. "See? Just like this."

Oliver urges you to press your thighs together again. He's sure that being buried deep inside you would feel a lot better, but he doesn't mind fucking your pretty thighs for a while. They’re so soft and feel so good around his cock, everything about you feels like paradise.

You keep rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension in your body. He's only making it worse by rubbing against you like this, you're desperate for release. "Oliver . . . please . . ."

Every time he moves forward he nudges your sensitive clit and it has your thighs shaking.

You spread your legs and Oliver is quick to take advantage of it. "This is okay, right?" He pants, struggling to restrain himself.

Even now, there's still that tiny voice inside that begs you to stop.

Oliver kisses your shoulder. "I can do it, right?"

You . . .

He needs to make you his.

You're scared.

Oliver feels it in the way you tense you slightly, but he's so close, it's practically almost done. "Hey, doll, how do you feel?" He kisses your shoulder again and stops for a moment. "It's okay, right?"

It's Oliver . . . Oliver loves you, you know that now . . .

You don't say anything. Instead, you reach your hand back to the back of his head and turn to kiss him again.

Oliver will take this as a yes.

You tense up and gasp when he pushes in. He's a lot bigger than you expected.

Oliver swears he's dying, he can't handle it now that it's finally happening. You're so warm and so tight, it feels so good.

"Y'feel so fuck'n good, doll." Oliver whispers against your lips. "So good for me, my good girl."

You can't think of anything other than the feeling of Oliver's cock deep inside you, filling you perfectly.

He moves at a slow pace, whispering sweet nothings and praising you for being so good for him. You're his perfect girl, so sweet and so beautiful and all his.

Oliver knows he has you now.

"How's it feel, doll? Feel good?"

You feel hot. "Oli . . ."

"Deep breaths for me, baby, easy now." He murmurs softly, hitting that perfect spot inside you.

"F- Feels good . . ."

Yes.

Oliver has never been happier. He finally has you and it was worth the wait.

You cry out his name and it makes Oliver's heart flutter and he practically melts against you. You're the only girl who can do this to him. Everything about you is addicting, he could never get enough of you. Now that Oliver finally gets to bury himself inside you he never wants to pull out. He wishes that he can stay like this forever.

Aiku moans against your nape at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him, as if you never him to leave.

Shit, it feels so good, he won't last.

He whispers you name breathlessly and moves at an even slower pace in favour of giving harder thrusts.

Your sweet voice bounces off the walls and in the room, the sweetest sound Aiku has ever heard.

"G'na cum f'me, yeah?" Oliver pants, so close. "Come on, doll, cum for me. Give me everything."

You belong to him, just as he belongs to you.

You're his and he is yours.

Oliver loves you so fucking much, he can hardly handle it. He needs you to live.

"I love you."

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock oliver aiku #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #oliver aiku smut

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most-tragic-character-tournament · 9 months

Text

So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

#most tragic character tournament #most tragic tournament #tumblr polls #polls #important #gifs

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morganski-19 · 26 days

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 30

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 27, part 28, part 29

“Thank you for inviting me over, again,” Wayne says as Claudia puts the casserole on the table. “It’s been a while since I’ve eating something other than hospital food.”

“Oh please, it’s no trouble at all,” she assures. “I’ve been asking Dusty to invite you over for weeks now. It never hurts to have a homemade meal. Especially when everything around us is so crazy.”

She has literally been asking Dustin to invite Wayne over for weeks. It gets brought up almost every night at dinner. He would have earlier, but he didn’t want to be an imposition. There was enough going on, Wayne didn’t need to answer all of his mom’s questions. Dustin having to dodge them was already hard enough.

But he knew that she would never stop asking. So finally, to give both him and his mom a break, from being asked and asking respectively, he extended the invitation. Making sure to stress that Wayne did not have to take it. And Dustin would bring the news to his mother and make sure that she never brought it up again.

That is not what happened, though. Wayne had taken a second to think and then thanked Dustin. Said it would be nice to finally meet his mom. And now they were meeting, and it totally wasn’t awkward as Claudia asks about every little thing known to man.

She means well, Dustin knows that. But questions can go from harmless to hurtful in seconds. Wayne’s been through enough heartache the past two months, he didn’t need more.

“So, I hear that Eddie is doing well in his physical therapy.”

“Uh yeah,” Wayne says. Pushing his food around his plate a bit. “He’s gaining a lot of his strength back. A few more weeks and he might be able to come home.”

It might be less than a few weeks. Eddie’s been recovering a lot faster than the doctor’s initially thought. He’s able to stand, for short periods of time, with just some crutches or a walker. And he’s starting to be able to lift more with his arms. Realistically, he might be able to come home next week.

“Oh, well isn’t that great. I’m sure he will be glad to go home and sleep in his own bed.”

Except Eddie doesn’t have a real bed. Wayne’s been staying in a motel for months now. The upside down splitting his house in two. Ruining almost everything that they had.

“Mom,” Dustin whispers. “We talked about this.”

Dustin sees the optimistic look on his mother’s face fall. Realizing her wording and the faults that lie within it.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I just meant that Eddie would be happy to sleep anywhere other than the hospital. That’s all.”

Wayne shakes his head. “I know. And I appreciate the sentiment. I’m sure he will be happy to get out of there.”

Dustin knows that he will. He’s been itching for something different. The neutral walls of the hospital and channels full of soap operas getting boring fast. The constant check-ins. The tests. Everything you would expect from a hospital. But it gets repetitive and annoying after a while. Especially when Eddie claims he doesn’t need half that crap now anyway.

He’s probably lying. Or being stubborn. But Dustin can’t help but agree to some extent. Until the little voice in his heads reminds him of what’s outside the walls of the hospital, and the world Eddie’s going to walk back into.

People have generally calmed down as time went on. The posters with taunts written in bright red ink have started to slow. The vandalism on Eddie’s locker is starting to fade. Less things get thrown at Dustin and the rest of the guys. People are starting to forget the manhunt. Their focus turned on the warming weather and making it through the last month of school.

The only thing that bothers him is the fact that Eddie hasn’t been seen in almost two and a half months. If he’s including the week of spring break. All the press had to right their articles where old pictures from the yearbook and anything they could get from the people who hated him. There’s no telling what the headlines will be once Eddie’s discharged.

As hard as Hopper has tried, Eddie is still branded as a suspect in the eyes of the public. The government is really dragging their feet to clean up their mess this time around. And there is no reliable person to pin this on like last time. The lab in Hawkins hasn’t been active in two years. It was in Nevada or wherever the hell El was while getting her powers back. And the quake can’t explain the string of murders, like the mall fire cover up did.

They’re at the dead end trying to fix this, but Eddie should be in the clear. There’s just that string of doubt that refuses to break in his mind.

“I’ve been seeing a lot of houses put up for sale in the paper,” Claudia continues their conversation. “Have you been looking at any of them?”

“A few. But nothing’s set in stone yet. I’ve been trying to get a place before Eddie gets out, but he might beat me to it.”

A house would definitely help the possible problems swirling around in Dustin’s mind. Eddie would have a place to hide. A bed that might be more comfortable than a motel’s. And a place where he can feel safe. Without the possibility of an eviction for poor company.

“Well, if you need help, I can give you the number of the realtor we used when we moved to town. If she’s still here, that was almost ten years ago. But she got us a great deal on this house, below asking price. With the way people are flooding out of this town, you should be able to get a good deal on one.”

Wayne smiles. “I’d love that, if you could.”

After the dinner, Claudia searches for the old business card of their realtor in the junk drawer. She finds it, somehow, and hands it to Wayne. Who thanks her for the meal and a great evening. Then goes on his way.

Dustin’s beginning to have a spark of an idea. It could work, he just needs to do some convincing.

tag list (capping at 100, only 1 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dustin henderson #dustin pov #claudia henderson #wayne munson #everyone lives/nobody dies #eddie is almost free everyone #yay #pre steddie

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friendly-neighborhood-boricua · 2 months

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[6] You Get A Visitor in the ER

Summary: You're working overtime when you get a visit from an unexpected someone who makes your shift just a bit less excruciating.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!single mom!reader.

A/N (26/7/2024): this is edited but still kinda short so I may come back to it at some point and add some things ... second to last chapter yay!

Previous Part: James Takes Liam to School Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation Series Masterlist here

About two weeks ago, you woke up in the middle of the night to a hard thump from Liam’s room

You were in his doorway in a flash, of course, because what if he’s dying

And tbh you were kinda close

Turns out he fell out of his bed and the lower right side of his abdomen was hurting really bad

You figured out pretty quick that he probably had appendicitis, which is definitely not ideal

So one rather tense ambulance ride and night in the ER and OR later, you wheeled Liam out of the hospital in a wheelchair so he wouldn't mess up his stitches too much after literally getting an organ removed

You texted James to let him know what happened and that Liam would be staying hope from school for a week to recover

(James had managed to give you his number under the guise of offering to drive Liam to and from school in the future and although you haven't had to ask or even use his number at all, he still has you as one of his pinned contacts)

(Sirius and Remus make fun of him for it)

(Your contact photo is actually a photo of Liam where he's smiling really big while mixing cookie dough for your birthday, which was about three months ago)

As always, James was totally sympathetic and understanding and even dropped by your apartment after school with work for Laim so he wouldn't fall too far behind

You took the week off from work to watch Liam, of course

But you're paying for it now bc your CNO super sucks and isn't understanding at all when it comes to your kid

So now he has you working a fucking double to make up for your missed days

Two 12-hour shifts in a row, 6AM to 6AM

Not fucking fun, dude

(Your CNO is the absolute worst—this is the one that James is pretty sure violates labor laws pretty consistently)

He actually wanted you to do three doubles over the next two weeks but Poppy (not the CNO, but she’s been a nurse at this hospital for time immemorial) told him off, so you only have to do the one today

And at the very least, it’s in the ER

Which isn’t terrible

Definitely not as bad as med-surg

I mean yeah, it can be stressful but it’s nowhere near as bad as medical dramas make it out to be, and it’s pretty rewarding most of the time

It’s a Friday, so Tonks watched Liam in the morning and took him to school, where Ms. Hope picked him up and held onto him for a couple hours until it was time for Ron's sleepover, which she then dropped him off at

So he’s safe and taken care of

And it’s been a pretty quiet night tbh

There was a big car crash during rush hour in the morning but beyond that, nothing super crazy or out of the ordinary

So now you’re on triage duty with Poppy (which just means you and her are hanging out and talking while waiting for something—anything—to happen)

Lily, one of the administrative aides that checks people into the ER, finally pokes her head into the ER at half past ten at night, and it’s rather urgent

Apparently someone’s cut their had pretty badly

You lose a rapid-fire game of rock paper scissors against Poppy, so it’s you that goes to evaluate the patient

But when you enter the ER fast track, you’re really quite surprised

"James?"

To be fair, James is also quite surprised to see you, it's just that he's more smiley and pleased than distressed

He’s hovering near one of the beds and has what seems to be a kitchen towel wrapped around his palm, which you now see has been bleeding quite profusely

You’re at his side embarrassingly quickly and asking him standard questions as he stares at you with a rather glassy look on his face

What happened? Cut my hand while cooking. Can you feel your hand? Um, yeah, it … it hurts pretty bad. Can you tell if it’s still bleeding? I can’t really, no. Do you feel lightheaded at all? Mm, yeah, just … just a bit. Did someone drive you here? Yeah, um, Sirius did … they told him to wait in the lobby.

James is in shock, that much is clear

You ease him to take a seat on the bed and quickly grab a couple forms, which you fill out as you continue asking him questions

Poor boy gets really concerned when you make for the door to the ER proper but ofc you reassure him you’ll be back in a second

You ask Poppy to get Dr. Longbottom before quickly returning to James

And James—Sweet Summer Child James—he's just asking you what you’re doing here so late, if Liam is at Ms. Hope’s, just random questions that aren’t super related to one another

He’s super out of it but you entertain his thoughts and answer whatever questions come to his mind as you ensure that his kitchen towel is applying a decent enough amount of pressure

Alice shows up pretty quickly with a suture tray and asks you to clean James’ cut as she gets ready, which you readily do

You also let her know that James isn’t exactly all there, to which she smiles amusedly and says she can see that lmao

James is kinda confused at first when Alice tries to take away the towel around his hand, but you gently explain what's happening and he understands pretty quick

He looks down at his hand when you finally uncover the cut (it’s long but clean—easy to stitch right up) and poor boy gets a little too light headed at the sight of all the blood that’s covering his hands and the kitchen towel and your latex-gloved hands

James just about falls over onto your shoulder lmaooooo

He doesn’t quite pass out, just like a severe wave of lightheadedness

You quickly encourage him off of your shoulder and you and Alice manage to lay him down on the hospital bed just so he won’t fall off of it and hurt himself if he does decide to pass out

The cut is easy to clean despite how bloody it is, and you round the bed to James’ opposite side as Alice prepares to administer the anesthetic and sew James’ hand up

This entire time, James has just been following your around with his eyes

He’s never gotten to see you work before and it’s really quite interesting to him

And he loves that you’re taking care of him (Such Gentle! Yay!)

Alice asks you to keep James talking and distracted while she sews him up and you happily obliged

It’s kinda hard to keep James talking though because he just keeps asking you questions

By the time Alice is finished with James’ hand, you’ve told him about Liam’s recovery, your shift so far, and how shitty your CNO is for making you work a double

James is much more lucid by the time his stitches are finished which is great because he was sort of starting to worry you

But he’s pretty much all there now :)

He’s also disclosed to you that he cut his hand while trying to take the pit out of an avocado, which you find absolutely hilarious even though you couldn’t really laugh at your own patient

Alice leaves you to wrap James’ hand in protective gauze and give him post-op care instructions

And James is honestly thrilled that your shift has been a quiet one

Because he’s sure that if anyone beyond you two were in the fast track, they would have seen clear as day how he looked at you while you wrapped some soft gauze firmly around his palm

He’s lucky though because you’re tired after working for about sixteen hours with eight still to go, so you don’t really notice the look in his eyes

You give him the normal spiel—wash around the area of the stitches with soap and water not hydrogen peroxide, put vaseline over it, wrap in a non-stick bandage, the works

By the time you’re done, James is just kinda staring at you

You tack on at the end that he can always text you or drop by your apartment to make sure he’s taking care of them correctly

Sirius leaps up from his chair in the lobby when he sees James finally come out of the ER

He was lowkey super worried bc he knows James is the slightest bit squeamish around blood

But now he’s also like super confused bc James is looking at his newly bandaged hand like it had the best compliment ever written on the palm

It’s only on the car ride home that Sirius finally weasels it out of James

Apparently Liam’s mom was working in the ER and she was the one who bandaged up his hand for him after he got stitched up

And apparently, when James was complaining lightly that his palm still hurt right as he was about to leave, she brushed a light kiss against his palm and whispered something to him about how kisses make everything better

Sirius practically has to pick his jaw up off the floor as he and James walked into the latter’s apartment, where Remus had apparently finished their rather bloody attempt at guacamole

And then of course he made James explain what happened to Remus, who just laughs and shakes his head

James’ only regret is that he was too stunned to do anything except wave goodbye as you left

Next Part: Kindergarten Graduation

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x mom!reader #james potter x nurse!reader #kindergarten teacher!james potter #teacher!james potter #mom!reader #single mom!reader #kindergarten teacher!james potter x nurse!single mom!reader

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lulubelle814 · 3 months

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A Marriage of Convenience - Part 2

Part 3

A Marriage of Convenience Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The first test came at an abruptly arranged family dinner. “You would marry in haste? To this secretary? This must be one of your schemes to secure your place as my successor, and I will not stand for it!

Loki sighed deeply. “I am aware of how this must seem.” His fingers entangled with Eva's on the table. “I assure you. It is not. This is the result of your meddling, your attempt to spy on me. We've grown close over these past few months. I know it seems quick, but we had no desire to wait. Even you can admit that love is not always patient.”

His father scoffed at his words as he watched his son kiss the hand of his new bride. “She is my better half, and I needed to make her mine before she would realize how much better she could do.”

Frigga laughed a little. She knew her adopted son had little patience for much of anything, but she could sense there was something not quite right; however, she said nothing, opting to see how this would play out, believing Loki would come to realize he’d met his match. Yes, Eva was a quiet girl, but Frigga saw a strength deep inside her. It just needed to be let out, and Loki was the perfect man to do so.

“I wish we could have been at the wedding, but Loki is not known for his patience. Please, Eva dear, tell me about it?”

Thankfully Eva and Loki had spoken about it, but not in great detail and was both surprised and relieved when Eva answered but didn’t quite stick to the agreed upon story. “We never said anything at the office. We didn’t want to bring attention to ourselves, stir up rumors and such. So we kept it a secret. He didn’t care for me at first, when Odin first assigned me to Loki, but over time, Loki and I became close. We’d started dating before we even realized we were doing it, only hanging out as friends at first. I can’t speak for Loki, but I fell hard and fast. It was like the missing part of me had finally been found. A couple of weeks ago, we were walking about on an extended lunch and ended up in front of the courthouse. Next thing we knew, we signed papers and came out as husband and wife. I couldn’t be any happier, and I have Odin to thank for it.”

Loki had to keep from choking on his food when she thanked Odin. That was not something he’d thought of putting in their story, but it was a nice touch. Reaching over, his hand found hers, fingers intertwining. “It was like magic.”

Odin turned a few different shades of red as Eva spoke, but when she thanked him for the two getting together, he lost his shit, standing up and storming out. There was nothing he could do because he was the one pushing Loki to find a wife, and Loki took great pride in this as his father had always given him a hard time. He’d have to remember to get his fake wife a thank you gift.

“Don’t mind him. Business has been crazy lately, and it’s left him quite stressed. Eva, I don’t see a ring on your finger. Loki, you have to get that fixed very soon.”

“I agree, mother. It was very spur of the moment, and I’d planned on taking my dear Eva to Harry Winston this weekend so she can select the ring she deserves.” Eva nearly spat out her food. She’d heard of Harry Winston but didn’t dare think she could ever even afford to step in the store, much less get an engagement ring from there. She could practically buy a car for what Loki would spend on a ring there!

“I think that is the best place to take her. You’ll have to let me know what you select.” The three of them concluded their dinner a few moments later.

Once in the car and on the way back to Loki’s place, he gave a startling laugh. “What’s so funny?” Eva was confused, but Loki continued to laugh. “I have to thank you, darling girl. I’ve never seen Odin so angry! You played your part very well, and I thank you for it.” He lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles as he continued to drive, leaving her a bit mystified. Why would someone want to upset their father that much?

“Loki, why in the world are we going to Harry Winston for rings? They’re absurdly expensive!”

All he did was smile when responding. “Because, dear Eva, you deserve the best and should also look the part. This is part of what we agreed upon.”

“I don’t need some giant, gaudy ring on my finger!” He patted her thigh. “Relax, Eva. When the contract is over, you can keep the ring or sell it. It’s up to you.”

There was no arguing with him, and that’s how it remained when he practically dragged her to the Harry Winston store that weekend. There was one he tried to get her to agree on, but she was adamant it was both too much, and too gaudy.

She looked around, trying to find something they could perhaps agree on until she saw one particular ring.

“Madam has an excellent eye. This is part of our bridal couture collection. This particular one,” he spoke as he pulled out the ring, “has a 5 carat center diamond with 36 pear and round shaped diamonds surrounding it.”

“No, no. I was just looking. That’s much too nice for me,” she tried to protest. The gentleman behind the counter carefully removed the ring from it’s soft pillow and gestured for her to try it on. “Really, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” That man was going to be the death of her. “That ring is perfect for you.” Loki took the ring from the salesman in one hand and picked up her left hand with his free one, sliding the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. “It’s like it was made for you.” The gentleman behind the counter wholeheartedly agreed. “It’s a perfect fit.”

She couldn’t find it in her to disagree with him. This ring was like something out of a cheesy rom com where the handsome millionaire fell in love with the dog walker. ‘Holy shit! That makes me the dog walker!’ She kept that thought to herself.

Before Eva knew it, they were walking out of the store, that ring remaining on her hand while Loki selected a simple platinum band. “Why do you get the simple ring, and I get this giant one?”

Loki shrugged. “I’m not much of a jewelry guy, but I couldn’t not wear anything. And that ring is perfect for this charade.”

When they arrived into the office Monday morning with a ring on her finger that she swore could be seen from space, the news of their marriage spread like wildfire and ended with the ladies of the office planning a post wedding engagement party, wanting to hear all the details and celebrate her ability to ring in the notoriously emotionally stunted, intransigent man who didn’t believe in marriage.

Little did she know that Loki was receiving similar treatment from the gentlemen in the office; however, he politely told them to mind their own business and fuck off. Eva wished she could do that.

Dividers by @jiyascepter

Taglist: @vbecker10 @eleniblue

Taglist is open!

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juyeonszn · 8 months

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PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon smut #kevin x reader #kevin smut #moon hyungseo #blackoutorbackout🍻#juyeonszn

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year

Text

Note: Halloween chapter 10. Other chapters here.

Warnings: 18!! smut, fluff, bit of angst. mention of death, animal death, demonic possession, ghosts, bdsm activities.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You learned what would happen if you taunted Sihtric, and he finally opened up about his deal with the Devil.

wordcount: 4,9k

Masterlist

'Did I tell you to speak?'

You and Sihtric had been inseparable since that Halloween weekend you first met, but the past few weeks you had barely seen each other. Your job had been very demanding and Sihtric had been called for help by the church. And now that the agony of being apart was almost over, you both couldn't contain your excitement to see each other again.

You: how's my good Christian boy doing? ;)

Sihtric: your good Christian boy has a nice prayer chair in his basement for you, lady…

You: oh I remember

Sihtric: good ;)

You: but seriously, how are you, love? I miss you so much…

Sihtric: I'm okay, it's been quite the month, glad it's almost done

Sihtric: and I miss you too, little bat, so much, you have no idea

Sihtric: can't wait to see you again, my heart's been aching for you

Sihtric: tell me what you want to do this weekend?

You: just… something nice and quiet? nothing crazy, really. work's been stressing me out so much I just need to relax

Sihtric: anything you want, baby, I'll do for you

Sihtric: I'll come up with something

Sihtric: promise I'll treat you good all weekend

Sihtric: miss you

Sihtric: miss you a lot

Sihtric: love you a lot too

You giggled like a teenager at the endless incoming texts from your hopelessly in love boyfriend. You couldn't wait to see him again but you were also nervous, as you wanted to know the truth about him. You wanted to know why he had certain abilities that seemed supernatural and why certain demons knew him all too well.

The weekend was finally here and you ran to the door when Sihtric pulled up at your house to pick you up, early in the afternoon. You opened the door and took in his appearance as he got out of his car; his half shaved haircut, the black jeans with the leather boots, a black hoodie underneath a black fleece jacket and that sweet, huge smile on his face when he saw you melted you completely.

You ran up to Sihtric and jumped in his arms while he was barely prepared, but luckily his reflexes were quick enough to catch you in time.

'Love,' Sihtric chuckled whike trying to get a good grip on you as he stumbled a few steps back.

You took his face in your hands and immediately kissed his lips, much to his delight, and it didn't take long before Sihtric turned your sweet kiss into a sloppy one, as per usual. The more tongue, the more he enjoyed it. And you didn't mind, but you did kind of wonder if your neighbours enjoyed the sight of the intense kissing in your frontyard in broad daylight.

'Gods,' Sihtric sighed as he put you down on your feet, cupping your cheeks, 'I've missed you, my shadow.'

'I missed you too,' you pouted, and Sihtric pulled you in for a tight embrace.

'We're never doing this again,' he said as he held you, 'being apart for so long.'

Back at Sihtric's place, he took off his clothes as fast as he could. If it was up to him he'd just walk around naked in his house all day. But he figured it's more classy to somewhat cover himself up, so when he found you in his living room he was just in his slim fitting boxers and wearing that black satin robe you love seeing him in.

'So,' you said, still fully dressed as Sihtric pulled you with him into his kitchen, 'what is the plan for the evening?'

'I,' Sihtric said and lifted you up to sit on the kitchen counter, 'am going to cook for you,' he smiled and cupped your cheeks, 'and then we'll watch a movie, any one, you get to pick,' he nuzzled your nose, 'and after the movie,' he pecked your lips, 'or maybe even during the movie, I'll make sweet, sweet love to you,' he chuckled and gave you a firm kiss, 'and after that maybe some hot chocolate?'

'I see,' you giggled, 'and what's for dinner?'

'Well, you can have me,' Sihtric grinned, 'or I can make a rice dish.'

'But what if I want both?'

Sihtric shrugged, 'Perhaps that's an option too,' he winked and slapped your thighs.

You watched Sihtric as he prepared you a whole dish, chopping the vegetables and meat right next to you, and you felt oddly aroused at the sight of the knife in his hands. He carefully took his time to cook for you, and every time he had to pass you to get something he stole a kiss or two. You opened a few texts as Sihtric heated up some pans, and you scoffed as you looked at your phone.

'Damn,' you mumbled.

'Hm?' Sihtric looked over at you, 'what is it?'

'No, eh,' you cleared your throat, 'I just got a text from a friend. Apparently her rather new boyfriend ran over her cat, killing it instantly.'

'Oh, shit,' Sihtric said, 'that's fucked up.'

'Yeah,' you sighed, 'poor thing.'

Sihtric suddenly chuckled. 'Weird that,' he said, 'I had a dream a few days ago that I ran over someone's cat.'

'Really? That's freaky,' you stared at him, 'maybe you predicted it?'

'Nah,' Sihtric shrugged, 'I probably did it in another life,' he winked with a smile and continued cooking.

'Which sauce?' Sihtric held up two bottles to you from across the kitchen, 'sweet and sour or sweet and spicy?'

'I don't know,' you shrugged, 'which one do you like?'

'No, I'm asking you, love,' he smiled, 'or you want to try them first?'

You nodded and Sihtric made his way over. He dipped his finger in the sauce and brought it up to your lips. You expected him to gently push his finger in your mouth, but then a mischievous smirk appeared on his face. He pulled his hand away from you and smudged the sauce on his bare chest.

'You want to try it?' he smirked, 'go ahead.'

You shook your head lightly with a smile. He didn't even have to try, everything Sihtric did was somehow so erotic, it made you wonder if he was even real sometimes. You brought your lips to his chest and he moved his hands in your hair. A sharp exhale left his lips along with a soft hum as you ran your tongue over his body, tasting the sweet and sour sauce.

'Not bad,' you chuckled and looked up at Sihtric, who was biting down on his lip with a smile.

He repeated the same action with the other sauce but this time he deliberately used a little more, making you use your tongue on him again.

'I like this one better,' you said.

'Let me taste it,' Sihtric husked and he kissed your lips, his tongue entering your mouth with ease. 'Hm,' he hummed and broke the kiss, 'yeah, the spicy one tastes good,' he agreed.

And then as if nothing happened, he turned and went back to the pan to add the sauce.

When dinner was ready you both ate on his couch while watching the movie you picked; The Conjuring. You had both seen it over ten times already, and still loved it all the same. But halfway through the movie Sihtric kept glancing at you, and whenever you looked back at him he quickly looked away. He kept this up for minutes. Until he realised you started to ignore him, because apparently you thought Patrick Wilson, who played Ed Warren in that movie, was kinda hot, and Sihtric wasn't having it.

He then slowly moved closer and kissed your cheek. You smiled at him and brushed your fingers through his dark curls, which satisfied him and he smiled sweetly at you now that he had your attention. But when you brought your eyes back to the tv again, Sihtric glared at you. He knew he could just pick you up, take you upstairs and chain you to his bed, and you'd happily let him. But Sihtric had missed you these past few weeks so he wanted to be gentle, and maybe he even enjoyed the chase tonight, because he clearly had to win you over here, as your eyes were still glued to his tv.

Sihtric leaned in again and you chuckled softly when you felt he nuzzled your cheek, then pecked your jaw and brought his lips down to your neck with soft open-mouthed kisses. His hands trailed slowly down your body to your waist, then slipping under your shirt.

'Babe,' you murmured, 'I want to watch the movie.'

Sihtric sat back and stared at you, then crossed his arms and shrugged. 'Fine.'

You clicked your tongue and chuckled, 'Sihtric, don't be salty now.'

'No, it's fine,' he shrugged again while staring at the tv.

You bit down a laugh as you saw his bitter face.

'Siht, the movie is over in like half an hour,' you said, 'patience.'

'No, I don't want it anymore now,' he lied.

You knew if you'd straddle his lap now you'd feel he definitely still wanted it, but you also enjoyed him not getting what he wanted right away, so you fought your own urges too, just to taunt him.

'Okay, fine by me,' you shrugged and focused on the movie again.

You sat in silence for the remainder of the movie, and as soon as the end credits started rolling Sihtric switched off the tv, got up to clean the table and kitchen, and then went upstairs. You knew he wanted you to take the bait, but you wouldn't, not right away at least. So you made yourself some tea before you finally went upstairs too. Sihtric pretended to be asleep already, and he was so bad at faking it, but you pretended to buy it and got under the sheets, your back turned to him.

Not a word was spoken but the tension was thick and electrifying. It felt as if you'd touch him now lightning would strike inside the room, blowing all the fuses, as the lust you felt for each other was too powerful for its own good. And you laid in silence for several long minutes after you had switched off the lights.

'What makes you think you can deny me?' Sihtric's voice rumbled low through the bedroom, like thunder.

'I wasn't denying you,' you hissed and smiled in the dark, but he didn't have to know you enjoyed this.

'I should punish you for that,' he said.

'Fine.'

'Yeah?'

'Sure,' you sighed, hiding your amusement and anticipation.

'Fine,' Sihtric said.

He switched on a light, grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him swiftly. He got out of bed and swung you over his shoulder, walking down the stairs and through his long hallway, to the stairs that went down to his "playroom".

'Sihtric?' you laughed, a little nervous now as he walked into the dimly red lit room.

'Did I tell you to speak?' he asked firmly, and a pleasant shudder went down your spine as you felt lightheaded at his tone.

'Wh- what are we doing here?' you giggled.

'Did. I. Tell. You. To. Speak?' Sihtric asked again, slower this time, and he grabbed your chin after he had put you back on your feet, 'hm?' his mismatched eyes stared at you with an intense gaze.

He then leaned his forehead against yours, pushing you backwards to the spanking bench, the one which looked like a prayer chair. Sihtric took off your shirt and before you knew it your lounge pants were gone too, and he didn't stop until you were completely naked, and then he took off his robe. He pushed you down on the chair and grabbed your wrists firmly with one hand, then kneeled down in front of you and cupped your cheek with his other hand.

'Love?' Sihtric whispered, staring into your dazed eyes, 'love, are you still here?' his sudden soft eyes darted over your face.

'Y-yeah,' you smiled at him.

'A little too much, my bat?' Sihtric chuckled lightly.

'No,' you laughed, 'go… go on.'

Sihtric brushed a few strands of hair out of your face and pecked your lips.

'Trust me?' he asked.

'I trust you.'

'Safe word?' Sihtric asked as he held your chin gently.

'Thunder,' you chuckled at the word you both agreed on last time you were together.

'Thunder,' Sihtric smiled and handcuffed your hands to the chair.

He got up, towering over you, and cupped both your cheeks. 'Safe signal, love?' he asked.

'Three tugs,' you said, and tugged your cuffed wrists three times.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed in agreement, 'you good?' he asked again.

'Yeah,' you smiled, and your heart skipped a beat when he kissed your lips sweetly.

'Good,' Sihtric smirked, and then he suddenly slapped your face, earning a gasp and satisfied chuckle from you.

Your head was spinning at your dominant boyfriend, and your mouth nearly watered when he took off his boxers and grabbed your chin, teasing your lips with his hard cock.

'Be a good girl for me,' Sihtric purred, 'open.'

You listened to his command and opened your mouth. Sihtric hummed with heavy-lidded eyes, and his lips curled into a smile as the warmth and wetness of your mouth enveloped his entire length.

'Fuck,' Sihtric hissed and threw his head back, while slowly thrusting deep into your mouth.

His hands were in your hair, keeping you in place, and his mischievous laugh made your core heat up even more. You hummed at the taste of him in your mouth, and Sihtric growled at the sensation it gave him. He looked back down at you, loving the way your reddened lips wrapped so perfectly around him, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he dragged his cock out and back into your mouth again slowly.

'Good girl,' he chuckled.

He tugged your hair, forcing you to look up and lock eyes with him. The feeling of his warm hands on you, while being restrained as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure, along with the sight of his muscular body towering over you and his heavy-lidded eyes staring down at you, combined with the sound of his soft moans, deep sighs, low growls and his mischievous laughs and chuckles, it was all almost enough to make you reach your own high without even touching yourself. And it drove you wild.

'You like that?' Sihtric murmured.

'Mhm,' was all you could hum, and tears rolled down your cheeks.

Sihtric enjoyed the sight of your tears, knowing they were not caused by pain or sadness, and he wiped them sweetly before he took a faster pace. You moaned and gagged once, to which Sihtric pulled out to give you some air, but not before he slapped your cheek again.

'I'm going to use that pretty mouth of yours, and you're going to take it,' he growled, then sweetly caressed your slapped cheek and pushed his cock back between your swollen lips again. 'Ah, fuck, baby,' he moaned and looked down at you with slightly parted lips, breathing heavy, 'even better than I imagined,' he smiled, slapping your cheek again, 'good girl,' he said again with ragged breath, 'such a fucking good girl for me,' he hissed, fucking your mouth faster but still carefully enough for you to enjoy it.

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and it didn't take long before you swallowed his cum after Sihtric came with a loud grunt. His heavy breath filled the room while he was quick to pull out, kneel down, and he swiftly freed your wrists. Sihtric picked you up and cradled you in his arms as he sat down on the comfy sofa in the centre of the room. You chuckled tiredly, and Sihtric did the same. He kissed your lips softly and nuzzled your nose.

'You okay, my love?' Sihtric whispered, still coming down from his high.

'Yeah,' you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Sihtric kissed your cheeks and lips softly, over and over again, whispering sweet nothings in between each kiss.

'I love you,' 'you're so good to me,' 'you're made for me, darling,' and, 'I can't ever get enough of you, my love,' were words he murmured.

'You think you can handle a little more?' he asked after he had recovered himself.

'Maybe,' you grinned.

Sihtric hummed, smiling, and slowly pulled you with him to the X-shaped cross. He put his boxers on again and you quickly said he wasn't allowed to put on his robe, to which he smirked and agreed.

'Now what?' you asked as Sihtric pushed you up against the cross, 'restraining me again?'

'Just a little,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your lips, then pushed your legs apart with his knee and cuffed your ankles to the cross.

'Good for you, love?' he asked, looking up at you.

'Yeah,' you breathed, 'not my wrists?'

'No, my queen,' Sihtric said and took your wrists, pressing soft kisses onto your skin, 'you'll need your hands,' he smiled.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips on your thigh, kissing up to your core. And when he dragged his tongue between your folds you realised he was right when he said you'd need your hands, as you immediately grabbed onto his hair.

'Fuck, Sihtric,' you sighed.

Sihtric hummed against your skin and you threw your head back, enjoying the way his tongue felt and you knew it wouldn't take long before you'd finish this way. Sihtric moaned softly each time you tugged his hair, and he pressed soft kisses to your wet cunt before he slit two digits inside you. You gasped and pulled his hair harder, pushing his lips back on you and the feeling of his tongue and fingers simultaneously pleasing you was almost too overwhelming. Tingles spread through your entire body, your knees became weaker with each stroke of his tongue and each thrust of his fingers inside you.

'Come on, love,' Sihtric breathed, 'I want to drink all of you,' he moaned softly, 'my queen. My darkness, give it to me.'

You desperately tried to push his lips back onto you, and Sihtric chuckled at your dishevelled state as you tried to grind against his tongue.

'Give yourself to me, surrender,' he smiled at you as you looked down at him, barely able to keep your eyes open or to keep yourself up on your trembling legs.

Sihtric released your ankles and caught you when your legs gave out, and he carefully brought you down to your knees as he lowered his body to the floor along with yours. He laid down on his back and pulled you on top of him.

'I wasn't finished, angel,' Sihtric smiled sweetly, 'you haven't finished,' he said and pulled your hips up to his face.

He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you down on him, and he licked, kissed and sucked you in ways you had never felt before. You moaned, laughed, squealed, cursed and squirmed as he held you in a tight grip, moaning against your core as his mouth never left you, and he wasn't going to let you go until you came for him. And when you finally did, screaming out his name while Sihtric drank you in as if you were the sweetest drink he ever had, your head was spinning and you pushed yourself off him as you immediately became oversensitive.

Sihtric was quick to grab you and pull you in his arms, and he carefully flipped you on your back. You both breathed hard while trying to catch your breath as Sihtric moved on top of you, and you both started to laugh when you locked eyes.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' you laughed, pushing Sihtric's hair out of his sweaty face before you pressed a kiss to the shaved side of his head.

'A lot, my princess,' he chuckled, 'but if you didn't enjoy this, then I won't do it aga-'

You quickly hushed Sihtric with a kiss, tasting yourself as your juices still lingered on his lips and tongue.

'Well, I guess that means you enjoyed it,' Sihtric played dumb and smirked at you.

You hummed with a smile as Sihtric reached for his robe, grabbing his phone, and he changed the red lights to a warm white with a quick tap. His mismatched eyes scanned your body, and he asked if you were hurt or felt bruises where the restraints had been, but you were absolutely fine.

'Perfect, my love,' Sihtric whispered and kissed your lips, 'you are absolutely fucking perfect for me.'

He pulled you up to him as he sat back and threw his robe around your shoulders, covering you up. He picked you up in his strong arms and carried you over to the unused bed, where he laid down next to you and cuddled up. Sihtric pecked your skin wherever he could as you still tried to come down from your high, and when you finally recovered you returned the favour. You kissed his face, your lips finding each scar he had, letting Sihtric know you loved him entirely. You slowly and softly kissed down his neck, to his chest, trailing your lips all the way down to the birthmark he had right above the elastic waistband of his underwear. Sihtric's breath hitched and he was quick to pull you back up to him to straddle his lap.

'Love,' Sihtric chuckled, cupping your cheeks, 'don't go there. We both won't handle another round tonight.'

'I know,' you smiled and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

You traced your fingers over his face while Sihtric looked at you, completely in love. He loved the way his black robe hung around your shoulders. You truly were an Angel of Death, he thought, and you simply took his breath away without even trying.

'You know,' you said softly, drawing circles around the small birthmark on his forehead, 'some say that birthmarks are marks of how you died in previous lives.'

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed with a smile, 'I wonder what happened to me then. Got shot in the head by a biker gang?' he chuckled, 'stabbed in my waist with a sword perhaps?'

You chuckled at his fantasies and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

'You're so silly,' your voice sounded muffled against his warm skin, 'I love you, Sihtric.'

'And I love you, little bat,' Sihtric whispered as he held you tight, 'until the end of time.'

After you had taken a soothing shower together Sihtric made you hot chocolate with whipped cream, as promised, and you found yourself in his bedroom, sitting across from him in the large and cosy windowsill. The darkness outside hid the view outside, but the rain and wind announced their presence by slamming hard against the window. You were both comfortable and at peace, leaning back against a few large pillows while your legs tangled together underneath a warm fleece blanket. You were still wearing Sihtric's robe, which he deemed stolen by you now, and he was in nothing else than his black sweatpants. You sipped from your hot chocolate and you chuckled when Sihtric got his moustache covered with whipped cream after his first sip.

'Babe,' you laughed, leaning in to wipe his face.

'I know, that always happens,' Sihtric smiled after you cleaned him up, 'thank you, baby,' he said and puckered his lips, blowing you a kiss.

You both enjoyed the sound of the rain for a while as you couldn't keep your eyes off each other while exchanging sweet smiles and soft chuckles, and you earned an occasional satisfied hum from Sihtric when you smiled at him. And after a while you cleared your throat.

'Sihtric?'

'Hm?'

'You know I still have questions,' you said hesitantly, 'maybe now's a good time?'

'There was never a wrong time,' Sihtric said, 'we just didn't get to it,' he placed his empty cup on the ground and leaned in to you, 'what do you wish to know, my love?'

'When we were attacked in the living room, I heard you say that Lucifer owed you one,' you said as he took your empty cup, 'what was that about?'

Sihtric nodded slowly and sat back, then took a deep breath.

'So,' Sihtric smacked his lips and looked at you, 'a few years ago Uhtred got almost fatally wounded during a mission. I was already involved in some occult practices, and I did a ritual to try and save his life. I fucked up and somehow summoned the Devil himself,' he said, raking his fingers through his damp hair, 'and I made a deal. My soul for Uhtred's life. And, well, as you know Uhtred is still alive.'

'Sihtric,' you gasped softly, 'why on earth…'

Sihtric made a shushing sound and smiled softly.

'Last year during one of my ghost hunting adventures I encountered Lucifer again. I didn't know it was actually him, until I was about to send the entity back to wherever it came from. Then Lucifer announced himself and, since he wasn't really bothering anyone, I more or less bothered him in an abandoned castle really,' Sihtric chuckled, 'we made another deal. I let him live, so to speak, and in return I got my soul back.'

You stared at Sihtric, 'You've got to be joking?'

'I'm not,' he laughed softly, 'I know it's quite a story. And you're the first one to hear about this, actually,' Sihtric smiled at you, glad that he could share a story as ridiculous as this one with someone who believed him and wasn't going to force him into a mental hospital and medicate him.

'But, wait,' you said, 'that doesn't explain how he owed you one?'

'It doesn't,' Sihtric said, 'I encountered him once more, just before you and I met. He showed up at my home.'

'What, the Devil knocked on your door and you let him in?'

'Actually,' Sihtric chuckled, 'that is exactly what happened. He knocked three times, a deafening sound. A sound a human can't possibly make. And, yeah, I let him in. He needed my help.'

'What?' you scoffed.

'He needed my help,' Sihtric shrugged, 'a demon tried to cross to our world by possessing a young girl,' he explained, 'but that's not how the Devil works, or demons in general. They have rules. They are not allowed to possess or harm unless provoked or invoked and the girl was innocent. Lucifer knew that a priest would turn the demon and send it to Heaven, which is not what he wanted, Lucifer wanted to punish the demon himself. So he needed someone who could do the job, without being, you know… strict about certain rules,' Sihtric winked with a half smile, 'so I helped him rid the demon of our world, back to Hell, where it would get its penance.'

'Fucking hell,' you murmured, to which Sihtric chuckled.

'Yeah,' he said, 'but…'

'There's more?' you stared at him.

'There's more,' Sihtric said, 'apparently there are a lot of demons who try to cross over like that, breaking Hell's laws. So… that is what I do. And that is what I did the past few weeks, when I said I was working for the church. And, sure, in a way I was,' he smiled, 'but I guess I work more for Satan's church. I answer when he calls, and therefore the Devil will always be in debt with me.'

You still stared at Sihtric, not knowing what to say. He understood it was a little overwhelming, and he leaned in to cup your cheeks.

'And therefore, little bat,' he smiled as he whispered, 'you are always safe with me. Because I got the Devil in my corner, and he's more powerful and protective and caring than many think he is. And he can take on many different shapes and forms, but he will never harm you, I promise,' Sihtric said and kissed your lips, 'I hope this is not going to scare you off.'

'N-no,' you chuckled, 'it's just… a lot,' you said, 'I believe you. And I trust you. But… can he take on human forms too?' you then wondered.

'He can,' Sihtric said, 'but it's rare. And also… all that shit that happened with Skade, that shouldn't have happened. I should've seen earlier on it was her doing. I promise, baby, nothing will ever hurt you again.'

'I don't blame you for that,' you said, 'it happened and that's done. If anything, it brought us closer together,' you smiled and Sihtric hummed in agreement, 'so, what happened at the Willow house, the way you opened that door…'

'That was not Lucifer.That ws a protective energy that many would call Michael.'

'M-Michael? The Archangel?'

'That one,' Sihtric said, 'you can always call upon that energy, regardless of your beliefs, and it's the most trustworthy energy actually,' he said and leaned back again, 'and my only concern at that moment was getting you out of there as fast as I could.'

You felt overwhelmed, not just by this story but by the entire day. You told Sihtric you were tired and needed to sleep this all off, and he agreed. You both got into his bed and cuddled up, and before you fell asleep, your mind went over the events of the night you were attacked. You thought about how Sihtric had ordered the demon to reveal itself by clapping his hands, with a deafening sound, louder than humanly possible. And you remembered how Sihtric said the Devil had knocked on his door, with a deafening sound. And you remembered how Sihtric told you that the Devil can take on many shapes and forms, even the shape of a human.

And isn't it often said that the Devil is a handsome, charming man?

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk #sihtric kjartanson #modern!sihtric

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touteslespetiteschosess · 10 months

Text

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 5 : It's Complicated

Plot: Just as y/n's feelings toward Kylian are starting to change, the team return and a contract changes everything.

Word Count: 2569

Masterlist Chapter 4

Easily, she slid out of her car, looking him straight in the eye and folding her arms over her chest. She wore a straight-legged, neatly ironed, black pantsuit, her hair, as always, slicked back into a low bun. As usual, she wore her high, jet-black heels, and flicked one leg in front of the other.

"Good morning, y/n," he smirked, leaning against his car.

She frowned, shutting her car door and locking it, "Kylian."

As she headed inside, he chased after her, asking as he caught up, "How was your date?"

"I... didn't go."

"What?" he laughed loudly, "You stood him up?"

"No, I just said I needed a raincheck."

"Because of the coffee... on your tits?" he asked, his face entirely serious.

She slapped his arm, "Kylian!"

He glanced down at her, as she grinned to herself, "What? Your words, not mine."

Affectionately, she shook her head, "My accidental words."

"What does that even mean?"

She glanced around, "Why's the car park so busy today?"

"Kylian Mbappé fan convention?"

"Nice joke. Really witty."

He was silent for a few moments, as they walked into the building's reception. Suddenly, he asked, "Why did you cancel your date?"

She laughed, "Don't make me say it again."

"Well, I don't believe it was really because of the coffee... on your tits."

She frowned at both parts of his sentence, "What are you implying, Kylian?"

He shrugged, "I'm not crazy, I know what you wanted last night."

"To wash the coffee off my dress?"

She watched as he licked his lips, shaking his head, "And you knew what I wanted."

"Past tense?" she hummed.

"Nope."

Her feet ground to a halt and she gazed up at him; it took him a few moments to realise she wasn't at his side. He hesitated, glancing back at her, trying to read her expression. She looked confused, a little hurt, maybe, or was it pain? There was a difference.

"Kylian?" a voice calling down the corridor broke the heated eye contact between them.

She glanced over his shoulder and her eyebrows quickly knitted together at the sight of Enrique approaching them. Shit. The team came back to training today. How could tat have slipped her mind?

"Luis, comment ca va?" she asked, stepping in front of Kylian, taking control of the situation.

"Trés bien." he glanced between the pair, folding his arms over his chest, "Is there something you two need to tell me?"

Her mind snapped back to last night; his hot breath brushing her skin, smattering goosebumps up and down her neck. His lips had been so close to grazing over hers, his strong arms trapping her against that door.

Surely her cheeks were flushing red right now.

How did Enrique know?

Before she could gather her thoughts, Kylian quickly answered, "No."

"Really? Because I'm not quite sure why you're here today, Kylian, unless you two have sorted out some sort of contract between you?"

"I'm here to train?" he frowned.

"Well the first team are training today, so you're not welcome."

"Are you joking?" he scoffed, "Are you fucking kidding?"

"Kylian-" y/n tried, softly.

"No! This is a joke! Do you know how much you're paying me for this day off?"

"Go home, Kylian."

"Merde." he spat, spinning around and walking the other way.

She chewed on her lip, deep in thought, as she watched him march off. Luis' voice snapped her out of it, "How have things been without me?"

"Stressful at first but the press storm has calmed down."

"And how's Mbappé been?"

"I'm not too sure, I've just been locked up in my office." she shrugged, only half-lying.

Really, she hadn't gone out of her way to see Kylian, and she hadn't really spent all that much time with him. Then again, the few moments they had shared had played over and over in her mind, as though she'd simply been reliving the moments for the past two weeks.

"Really? Because you two looked quite friendly there." he hummed.

"Did you not see the stunt he pulled, posting that photo with the loft? I've just been trying to keep tabs on him."

"Good. He's unpredictable. I need you to predict him."

"Well, I've kept him quiet enough the last week, haven't I?"

He smiled at her, "A week, y/n. Only a week."

"Rome wasn't built in a day."

"I should get to training. Liaison with the media team, see if they've edited the videos from the tour for me, yeah?"

She nodded and as the coach turned to leave, she called, "Luis." he glanced back and she hesitated, "Are you in talks with Kylian?" When he didn't respond, she prompted, "You know, for a new contract."

"We'll meet about this later." he declared, marching off.

What did that mean?

She got on with her work, finding herself instinctively glancing out at the pitch every five minutes, though of course, Kylian wasn't there. She had a few meetings, one with her team to recalibrate after they'd been away for so long.

Eventually, Luis' assistant knocked on her door, asking for her to come to the boss' office. When she entered, Luis' desk was coated in papers, as he read over one sheet. Another man sat in one of the two chairs on the other side of Enrique's desk. At the sound of the door opening, they both looked up at her.

"Miss y/l/n, come on in. Have you met Mr Al-Khelafi?"

Her heartbeat picked up and she held her hand out, feigning confidence, "I don't believe I have."

The man stood up and she gazed at his neat suit, which was probably worth more than her previous salary. He shook her hand firmly and they exchanged pleasantries before she sat in the other seat.

"Now," Luis began, "we have received an offer for Mbappé from a Saudi-Arabian team, Al-Hilal."

When neither of the men went to say anything more, she nodded, "Okay?"

"A significant offer, to the value of three hundred million in signing fees alone, and much more for Kylian during his time over there," Khelafi explained.

"Okay. Do you want me to publicize this? Has he agreed to the contract or-"

"No, he's not exactly agreed. We need you to release the information... discreetly."

"You need me to leak it?"

"Not exactly. Well, yes but-" Luis tried to explain, "Kylian has been a little resistant to the offer and this offer is the best possible outcome for both of us."

"Aside from Kylian, who has to leave his family, and move to Saudi Arabia."

"For almost a billion euros in a single year." Luis pointed out.

"Have you even had discussions with him yet though?"

Khelafi frowned, "I pay you to do as I say and not to question it, Miss y/l/n. I expect it out tomorrow morning. That will be all."

Did he seriously just dismiss her? It's not even his office! Well, it was in the sense that he paid for the building and everyone in it but this was Luis' office.

Smiling politely, she left the room, refraining from rolling her eyes until she was out. Luis' office was near enough to the pitch and she needed to speak to one of the photographers who was currently out there anyway.

He was on the pitch, snapping photos of the training session. She tried to signal his attention from the sidelines. When it didn't work, she hesitantly strolled onto the pitch.

Out of nowhere, a ball flew in her direction, hitting her smack in the side of the head. She let out a loud curse, her hand flying up to clutch the side of her face.

"Shit, are you okay?" a man called out, running toward her.

She glanced at him and immediately recognised him as Hakimi, one of the first team's defenders. Dembélé followed behind him, trying to stifle a laugh.

"A pretty girl walks onto the field and you have to boot the ball into her face immediately?"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, weak kick anyway." she joked.

Ousmane cackled loudly, slapping Achraf's arm; the defender's face dropped and he asked, "Sorry, who are you?"

She smirked, holding her hand out, "Y/n y/l/n, head of PR."

"Oh." he shook her hand.

"Why are you on the pitch?" asked Ousmane.

"I'm looking for Sebastian." she glanced at the photographer, "Sebastian!" she called to him.

As the photographer approached them, Achraf watched her before suddenly blurting, "You're Kylian's friend, aren't you?"

She furrowed her brow, "Um, I don't think so?"

Achraf just hummed and she was about to question him before Sebastian, the photographer, spoke up, "Did you need to see me?"

"Yes, where did you upload your photos? Marcus can't find them."

As she and Sebastian spoke, Ousmane and Achraf watched on,. Ousmane asked, "So, who is she?"

"The girl Kylian won't shut up about."

All it had taken was one phone call. Y/n had made one phone call and every sports newspaper worldwide was plastered with four words: 'Mbappé's €300 million deal'.

She sat on her sofa, a bowl of pasta in her hands and her laptop open, scrolling through an article on the Al-Hilal offer. Faint honks and shouts sounded from the city a few stories below her but her apartment was quiet. Her window was wide open, letting in a breeze, a feeble attempt to cool the stifling room. Occasionally, the papers scattered across her coffee table ruffled with the draft.

Three loud bangs on her door snapped her from the article. Shovelling one last mouthful of pasta into her mouth, she started for the door. She was still chewing her food when she swung the door open. Her mouth stopped moving at the sight of Kylian Mbappé in her doorway, steam practically blowing out of his ears.

"Are you fucking happy? Are you and Enrique gonna go out for a meal in celebration?"

She gulped, swallowing her pasta, "Kylian?"

He shoved past her into the apartment, "What's your problem with me? I thought we were becoming friends!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He didn't say anything for a while, just glared at her. Only now that he'd stopped yelling did he take in his surroundings. Her apartment was a mess, not what he'd expected from such a seemingly put-together woman like her. Papers were strewn on every available surface and dirty dishes were piled up in the kitchen. The place was pretty small, an adjoined kitchen and living room with a shabby couch. Two doors led out of the room, one was open, showing her bathroom. The countertop was coated with makeup but other than that it was fairly clean. The other door was closed; he presumed it led to her bedroom.

His glare landed back on her, "Don't lie to me!"

"Kylian, how many times do I have to explain that I have a job to do? How hard is that for you to understand?"

"Yeah, that doesn't mean you have to fuck me over. You didn't have to do that."

"I was doing what I was told!" He shook his head and she sighed, "What do you want, Kylian? I want to help you but I don't understand you!"

"What do you mean?"

She didn't reply. A beat passed, then another, and her gaze softened, quietly asking, "Are you going to Qatar, Kylian?"

"Why would I tell you?"

She shrugged, "I thought we were becoming friends."

He scoffed but then glanced down and back up at her, "I don't want to live in Qatar."

"Not even for 300 million?"

He wandered over to her sofa and sat down, deep in thought, before he slowly said, "I don't know, y/n." he hesitated, "Would you miss me if I left?"

"I've known you for like two weeks." she said, "I suppose I like having you around."

"Wow, thanks." he scoffed.

"Would you miss Paris?"

"Of course, this is my home. My family's here, I grew up here, and this is where my entire life is but I know it won't last forever. I have to leave at some point."

She still stood behind the sofa and when she didn't reply, he glanced back and watched her for a few moments. "Why are you looking at me? I can't make this decision for you."

"No, but you can give me a reason to stay."

She paused. Only now did she notice that the city was quiet. For the first time since she'd arrived here, the streets faded into nothingness, as if her little box of an apartment was suspended fifty feet above a vast countryside. She swore the air was hotter than it had been before, a hot flush settling over her entire body.

"I think I could only be a reason to go."

She folded her arms over her chest and glanced at the hard wood floor. He frowned, "Well, I need something to tip the scales either way. Whatever happens I'm the bad guy."

She rolled her eyes, "You aren't the bad guy."

"I go to Qatar, I'm a money hungry wasted talent. I stay here, I'll never reach my potential. That's what they'll say."

"Who cares what they say?"

"Me, clearly. I'm here in your living room, aren't I?"

"I thought you just wanted to see me, chump." she teased.

He smirked to himself, "Maybe I did. Keep your enemies close, right?"

She rounded the sofa, stalking towards him, "Oh, so I'm your enemy. I thought we were becoming friends?"

As she perched beside him on the sofa, he laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "You know I'd never."

The touch of her hand seared through his shirt, sending his stomach in somersaults. Her soft eyes gazed at him, taking in every little detail of his appearance.

"Tell me to sign the contract."

His words were all but a whisper, staring deep into her eyes. Only a few seconds passed but it felt like years. Eventually, she let out a quiet, "It doesn't matter what I say. You'll sign it."

"Will I?"

"You'll be gone by the end of the week."

"Maybe."

She edged forward, closer to him, moment by moment. She could feel his body's warmth, wrapping around her like a blanket. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, ever so quickly, but not at all subtly.

"Do you ever think about me?" she whispered.

He hesitated, his lips parting for a moment before he replied, "More than I want to."

And just like that, his lips were on hers, his rich scent driving her insane. His strong hand found her hair, holding her face closer to his. Her hands rubbed up and down his back and her lips parted, allowing his tongue entry. As his tongue explored her mouth, his hands did exploring of their own, tracing a line down her spine, making her shiver. His hand toyed with the waistband of her joggers before sliding beneath the material, grabbing desperately at her peachy ass. As he did, she let out a small moan into his mouth, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

Suddenly, she pulled back, gazing longingly at his face, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"I'm leaving anyway. We've got nothing to lose."

That was all she needed.

Chapter 6 Masterlist

#football #footballer #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe #kylian x reader #mbappe #mbappé #fanfic #france #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x you #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader

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