#I don’t want to miss anything and i want to make sure to highlight everything Isayama was going for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aniqua · 4 months ago

Text

error: 0v3rr1d3 | yandere!qimir x cyborg!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, death, blood, character death, flashbacks, flashfowards, existentialism?, unreliable narrators and crazy epiphenies, drowning, osha going through the ringer, p in v, cockwarmth, blowing, creme pie, worshipping qimir, second fiddle feelings

✧note: it's been real fun to make qimir a loser, robot fucker.

✧word count: 6.2K

✧series masterlist

“You promised that we would go.” You’d spent the last thirty minutes pressing Qimir to explain the change in plan.

“That was before yesterday's incident,” Qimir sighed as he arranged boxes. The day prior to this exchange, Qimir spent his time in a sticky sweat as he ran through the city for some outside help. With you resting on his back, you were relegated to hearing his terrified breaths that were a result of your condition. It had chosen to be at its worst that day and although you spent the end of the day in a better condition, you didn't miss the way Qimir looked as you clugged onto his arm as he walked you home with a fixed hold on your hand that didn't even budge when you slept with him that night.

“I'm better now,” you told him. "That was the first time that ever happened anyway," you defended with crossed arms.

“You hoping to go for a second time?” he asked sarcastically.

He was closing up the shop earlier than most days for the festivities that were to be indulged in that night. You looked on without your usual offer to help--not like he'd accept. The entire week ranged from uneventful to horrendous at its worst but the highlight of it for you was supposed to be to celebrate the planet’s two moons aligning like the planet did every year. Despite this, Qimir was giving you a last-minute rejection that you were refusing to stomach this time around.

“I’ll be fine,” you tried appealing to his unquenchable desire to nurture. “And if not, you'll take care of me like you always do. Hm?”

Qimir fought hard to ignore that he loved the way you spoke. It pleaded to the nights he spent thinking of every way he could make you better. He was fighting to keep you a permanent painting in his home and refused to lose to simple battles like hereditary curses.

However, for all the pride he felt in his chest, Qimir set a box down and walked toward you. His hazy eyes gave you a once-over just as he took your tender face in his hands. He said, “I'm not taking that risk.”

Your frown deepened as you pulled your face out of his hands for the comfort of the cold air, “Why don’t you let me do anything?” He could see the way your brows upturned in vulnerability with your wet eyes to match as your pupils went wider. If he could, he would have taken you right then and there for how malleable you looked.

“I don't do it out of enjoyment. But I'll put your health first every time. Even above what I want," he was pretending to play the good guy like he wasn't a shut-in who would have stayed home during the festivities actually long before your time.

“And above me?” you challenged.

“[Name],” he sighed.

“You’re cursing me to live like this,” you pressed him at his weak spot.

“Cursed?” he laughed bitterly to himself. He brought his hands to his hip as he gave you a stare that reminded you of the initiating stance of a predator. “I’ve done everything to make sure you even live past the next moon alignment--”

“And if I have to live like this then I'd rather be dead,” you spoke with unwavering declaration. Months of quietly obliging with the occasional treat to keep you at bay only made your desertification more apparent to you.

"Careful," he murmured with a still face that was so unreadable. He backed you into the counter just to further cage you with both of his arms on both sides. You looked up at him as you pressed further into the counter to avoid meeting his chest. The edge of the counter he held onto bent at his grip as you spent most of your time grasping at fleeting courage.

“It's not like you get a say in that either," he told you. If you were so struck by the painful beauty of his face at such an odd time, you would have let out a meager cry in surrender.

After getting his fill, Qimir stepped back from you to retreat upstairs. It was expected that you’d spend the rest of your time downstairs to blow off steam before returning to the living room begrudgingly for dinner. Qimir hadn’t exactly made it to the front door of your home before he remembered that he needed to lower the shutters over the shop for this special weekend in case some got too excited. It was when he returned to the ground floor that he no longer saw you there. You disappeared as if he never met you, to begin with.

He called your name and watched his voice echo in real-time. That's when he knew he was alone. Once his call bounced back he nearly lept over the counter and went sprinting out the door.

By the time he'd burst through the doors and the shop's bell jingled, you already had a head start to the streets as you tried making it to the fairie. Two tickets weighed your bag down as you cut through the roads with as much force as you could among those who were already starting festivities. The way the shops were decorated with ribbons and flags would have been beautiful if you couldn’t hear the growing distant call of your name in the distance.

As you carried on fighting you picked up your pace hoping that a miracle would come through before Qimir would catch up to you but your prayer wasn’t even sent before you felt your strength waning until the wind blew out your candle and had the ground swallow you. You should have known better than to exert so much after being given only a day of recovery but you assumed that your passion would make up for your health. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough because you went collapsing like the first drop of truth in the middle of the street. You could hear Qimir calling your name and the low hum of the crowd in surprise.

A week passed where you didn't speak to Qimir and you thought it would help in the tension brewing but the distance felt treacherous. Every day that passed leading up to the seventh day would be you waking up on the outskirts of the planet in a cabin that once belonged to him but was passed down to his acolyte. The last thing he said to you as he passed you over to Osha before his journey to find a better solution for your illness was he thought it would suit you better to behave. Instead of a private farewell that should have been exchanged kisses, the journey to the cabin was silent.

Far from it was Osha to question her master but it didn’t help how little in detail she was given before he appeared on her doorstep asking her to watch over you. She was given half of the truth while you were given the whole lie that Osha would sooner drag you back to the cabin before you'd make it past a few trees.

Before your arrival, she chose to spend her time training until their next operation but instead of a new Jedi to target, Osha was assigned to babysitter while being left entirely in the dark. Still, she trusted Qimir when he said to guard you with her life as he went off.

From your perspective, the specifities of what Osha was told were unclear but you weren’t willing to try to pry when your last act of disobedience landed you concession from meeting the ground and unwanted attention that could have ended with the wrong people asking the right questions. So, in your time of vacationing–you told yourself this to lighten the mood–you didn’t even ask about Qimir until a few days after a week had come and he still hadn’t returned for you. This concerned you so you went running your mouth to Osha since it was all you could do to keep yourself calm and not fear that he had finally abandoned you for an easier problem to fix.

“Have you heard from him?” you asked.

She shook your head. “I can still feel him," she admitted as she ate.

You didn't know each other well but you wanted to press further even if it meant her frustration. “Anything else?” you said.

“Look, you’ve been asking me the same question for three days. He’ll be fine," she put her spoon down and looked up at you. "You’ve seen how he disappears for weeks just pop back up. It’s no different now."

You fiddled with your thumbs as you said. “So this is normal?” You didn't have the slightest clue as to what she meant.

“What," she laughed in disbelief "Qimir hasn’t fucked off for weeks to you?"

If you had any type of distance from him, you would have laughed with her but you hadn’t so you said the truth.

“No,” you confessed. “He’s never gone more than an afternoon away,” you said. “Which is why I’m so nervous because that last time he came back he didn't look good.”

That admission had Osha questioning how well you truly knew him.

“What took you so long?” Osha asked Qimir as he held onto his bag.

“I’m back now,” was all he was going to say but the look Osha gave him made him feel stupid. “Came across some trouble on the way back so I had to stall. I’d hate for anyone to be following me to lead them to here.”

“So you stole that," she stated the obvious while nodding toward his bag that looked packed with some things that were none of her business.

"It doesn't matter--"

Osha wasn't in the mood to banter as they stood a few paces from the cabin in the dead of night. "You let three weeks go by for her. It felt like she was gonna start chewing glass if you didn't show up tonight,” she said,

“Nothing, she’s not used to,” he said as he rifled through his bag to straighten a few things out. Maybe that's why he didn't realize that he and Osha were talking about two different things.

“So she’s home a lot huh,” she met him where he was in the conversation. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It keeps her safe.”

“From you?”

Qimir swallowed.

“Whatever happened to no romance to keep this exact thing from happening,” she threw the rule back in her master's face while gesturing at his lover fast asleep in the cabin. “You bring danger to your doorstep every time you come back home so there's no point in keeping her there?” If only she knew the other half of the problem to chastise him for that as well.

Osha watched him with judgemental eyes with the complete silence in between them. Leave it to her to be the one to hold a mirror up to Qimir as he would conceive of a flawed plan. She was ready to ask him if it was worth it. Interrogate him about having you put your life in a strange form of witness protection all in the name of a lonely man who couldn't just let a bird go. That was until some was rustling nearby. The kind of twig snap that didn’t come from a small animal but a clumsy vulture. Osha and Qimir both turned their heads to the sound as they already had a grasp on their lightsabers. They waited with held breaths in the quiet night.

Even though both moons illuminated the forest, something felt off with the way the area had gone motionless. Qimir would have left the idea alone if you weren’t inside.

The hum of a lightsaber that wasn't theirs was the warning shot that set everything into motion. They almost didn't see it coming but were even more surprised to find seven Jedi that had been tailing him since they got the first tip-off of his movement when he'd jumped from another planet with a fortune's worth of medicines and no clear explanation.

When you woke up, at the sound of a cry, you couldn’t chalk up the thud coming from the outside to the result of an interesting passerby.

So you stirred out of your comfort zone and started for the exit of the cabin when you said Osha's name and she didn't respond. She was a late sleeper.

As you came out of your sleep your fresh ears were finally registering the growing sound of a fight. Your hands carefully pushed the doors of the cabin that led you to a cold night. Although the stars and moon were the only things that were keeping the beyond from looking pitch black, it was still a horrifying sight to look into the abyss and see two red lightsabers spinning in self-defense.

When your eyes landed on Qimir for the first item in three weeks, your thoughts were interrupted as you got tunnel vision. He was fighting for his life in a dance between him and Osha against the Jedi. Yet all you could see was him as you burst through the cabin doors and went running after the only certainty you had even when this was the first time you’d ever seen him use the force.

“Qimir!” You cried. You threw all the arguments that you had with him aside and went racing with nothing but your heart in your hands.

Qimir looked up first as he saw you coming down from the hill. “Go!” he said.

It was rare to see him look so scared and even rarer to be the result of anyone but you so you stuttered in your tracks. Your hesitance was caught who was determined to make sure no one could testify to them breaking their mantra of never attacking first. As he immediately locked eyes with you, you started for the other way hoping to at least lighten the load of attacks on Osha and Qimir even if it was by one person.

You didn’t look back once as you went cutting into the woods like a shot call. Your feeble state lets an onslaught of rushing adrenaline fuel your heart enough for it to pump your system faster. The forest stood by and watched as you kept looking back in fear until you dove behind a fallen tree to catch your breath and adjust from the dizziness in your head. You knew you couldn’t run for long even high off of your need to fight.

It was hard to miss the sound of footsteps as they steadily grew until they felt close enough to be your own shadow. So you fisted a large rock in your hand enough to bleed and threw it as hard as you could in another direction. Just as the beast went chasing after his own tail you began blasting off in the other direction until you broke through a clearing that was the edge of the cliff.

It’s not something your mind registered in the darkness until you heard the sound of unrelenting water. You made the effort to stop but you were seconds too late as the dirt slid just enough to lose your footing and go diving through the air. Crashing into the rushing water felt nothing like liquid and more like solid ice.

Your land was only cushioned by the rapid water that would have been your savior if it didn’t send you along with the river to hit every rock and broken log on your way downstream. It was siphoning off your adrenaline to leave you to fend for yourself.

Your hands kept closing and opening as you tried to reach for something to stop the tornado. The tiring fight to find someway to steady yourself ended up with you carrying a belly full of water in a blind panic each time the water hit your face. This repeated as you were repeatedly baptized by waves until the water in your belly was enough to have you sinking to the bottom of the river.

When Qimir washed up on the shore onto the shore, he was choking on everything but the items at the bottom of the river and the dirt embedded into the water. You were right beside him as he shivered from the wind that made the water unbearably cold. However, you didn’t need to shiver to maintain your body heat since there were goosebumps rising from your skin as you layed motionless beside him. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feel the biting chill of that night. It was just that you didn’t have any strength left to go running after heat.

At least that’s what you thought of it as, until you weren’t looking up at the night sky of the night but rather at the pitch back of your eyelids that were too heavy to open even as you fought for days to try. You existed in a state of in-between where your body was still but your mind was still active at times as it came and went like running water.

So you meandered in this state of being as the world moved on.

Throughout the swift passage of time you stayed frozen as you could only listen to the voices of anger, guilt, and resentment give you a description of events through a tinted gaze that explained the past and present.

You were there against the shore of the rushing river and heard every cry of anguish as Qimir cut through bones and blood in the heat of his anger. The red screams of the attackers splattered against the bark, foliage, and rocks of their surroundings until all that was left were parts scattered across the woods like chicken feed. Osha looked on entirely stunned as she tried to resuscitate you. She saw in real time how her master had burned every lesson in dignified death he taught her in exchange for a punishment that was tenfold the crime.

For you, when the feeling of the ground was replaced by the cold surface of a healer's bed, you still refused to wake up. You heard the promises and threats he made as he went to every length he could to pull you back to the world of the living until you sank back under and remerged to him bringing you back home place to figure out what deal he had to make to bring you back to life.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” his voice was barely louder than the machine that kept track of the rhythm of your pulse. “Osha’s here.” You wanted to tell him to come back and stay with you since you liked the way he fixed your hair and played with your hands when he thought no one was there.

It was hard to tell the exact amount of days that passed without the rare clue you got from the conversations you overheard. You remained in the dark for most things but didn’t miss the inevitable march toward unshakable madness that Qimir experienced in your presumed absence.

You heard the apologies he gave you with promises to fix you until you memorized each promise like a blessed hymn. He found a permanent place in your room to reside until you would come to expect the sound of him rising and finally sleeping.

“Qimir,” Osha’s voice had come through from the upstage. “I think it’s time,” she said. If he said something, you didn’t hear it. “You’ve done your best during all these months but it’s time to consider the best option,” Osha told him.

“The best option is to bring her back,” he was unwavering in the way he spoke even if he sounded weak.

“How?” The silence that followed was loud enough to make it clear that he didn’t have the answer. “We must know when to move forward. Just like you taught me,” she said.

“Then move on.” He was stern. “Don’t let my dedication burden you,” he hissed. “You no longer need to be my acolyte.”

“Your dedication is making you driving you insane,” she punctuated each word as she tried to hide the crack of her voice. “She is practically dead but you’re throwing me aside–”

“Until her heart stops beating she is my responsibility!” It was no mistake how different things felt in your absence but it surprised you how clear he had made his decision. “I suggest you find yourself a new master.”

That’s how you replayed it all in your head. Years after your baptism and months after your crucifixion Qimir had finally married his two ideas into a solution that he was hoping to work. A wise man would never ask him how he did it since it wasn’t through his own hands but after mounting a few bodies and twisting a few arms, every failed part of you was replaced by pieces from the android parts he had collected. A task that blurred all ethics that only Qimir was willing to cross. All he waited for was the day you’d wake up. He let weeks pass by hoping that he’d find you sprung forth and lively.

You were still partially droid which he didn’t understand so through the period of holding his breath and getting lost in the bottom of his bottle, you were coming through every single memory you had, especially of him, and processing them for analysis in the part of your brain that was connected to your past processor. You returned to every instance as human and every close encounter as android.

You had been given time to reflect on the incoming memories as they passed through you. And when you had come to believe was how ungrateful you were. To not see the unwavering love of Qimir even after he had been abandoned to build your future from scraps until you were nearly resurrected. It all would have gone well if you had not gone running to see what you had forgotten. Now that you had seen it, it was entirely understandable Qimir's aversion to it. You had crossed the river and drowned over and over again as your memories played on a loop like a punishment from purgatory. It wasn’t under your control as your system tried to learn and relearn how to escape death until it came to the conclusion that the best possible outcome would be to not only accept the love you were given but to understand it and reciprocate it in its totality.

“Osha! Osha!” Qimir called from her as he was being held back by the Jedi that were swarming his hideout in Kashyyyk.

His mistake was reaching out to Osha after so much time of silence thinking she’d help him get to the bottom of what was wrong with you this time. Desperate people find faith in the strangest places and he was no exception as he thought she, even with hesitance, would help him find out why he’d done everything right but you refused to power on like all those other times.

Osha ignored his shouts as she looked up at you erected perfectly still enough to build a coffin around you. It felt wrong at first to appeal to the Jedi to apprehend and make an example of her old master but as months went on and she slowly ventured back to the light, a sickness wouldn’t leave as she felt that Qimir was likely still home jumping from healer to architect as he tried to bring you back like a lunatic.

She hadn’t seen him in a year but it felt more like a decade as she saw how long his hair had gotten when he was seized. The smile he gave her when he thought they were all alone wasn’t devoid of years of stress but it had a slight familiarity to it that almost made her go back on the plan. If Qimir wasn’t so busy with everything that had to do with you, he probably would have picked up on the presence of others closing in on him from the shadows of the trees.

The once enthusiastic acolyte wasn’t there to see the multiple iterations of you as an android so she would never be a true believer in the miracle. Conceivably, she wouldn’t have led the Jedi to Qimir’s home if she knew. Yet, she didn’t and she likely never would. All Qimir had given her to work with when she returned was scattered and disassembled android parts with you decorated in new parts that only had their backstories told by roomers. To her, this was inhumane.

“How could you?” she turned and said to him as he violently thrashed against the restraints the Jedi gave him.

“Osha, don’t!” he could already see that she was preparing to reach for the panel that controlled your station to shut it off. There was some apparent hesitancy as his hands danced around the button that would lead to the computer to begin to power off and terminate all systems including itself.

“No! N-no! STOP!”

The cries of your lover were tormenting to even the creator of the anguish. The pain in his voice was so concentrated that it could not be ignored by any of those who were there to witness it. It was exactly the call to heaven that woke you up out of your processing and had you open your eyes for the first time since you had glitched so poorly that he took your battery away. In wide-eyed disbelief, Osha froze as she saw your eyes start to open and take in your surroundings.

To you, she didn’t look much older but instead younger from her naivete of what she had brought herself into. You saw him make an effort to step back. From across the room, the two Jedi who held onto Qimir and the three who guarded the two were just as confused as to what they were witnessing. It wasn’t like machines hadn’t been brought together with flesh before but to see someone rise from what appeared to be death would give pause to anyone. Qimr above everyone else looked like he was staring into the many eyes of an angel for the first time in his life.

The atmosphere in the cave went motionless as you took your first step down from your chamber as a cyborg for the first time. By then, you had already come to a conclusion. With the wisdom of your humanity and the calculation of your machinery, you had decided everyone was a threat to your new goal. Your feet took another step forward to Osha so she said your name in disbelief.

Before she had pushed out the last part to it, you took her blaster and put a hole through the heads of two Jedi without much effort from your self-defense protocol.

Your attacks sent everyone scrambling as you were already holding Osha at gunpoint by the time they realized that you were just as much of a threat as they thought Qimir was.

“Please,” you spoke only to Osha “tell them to leave and I will spare their lives and yours.” The cold, metal barrel made a circle indicating the target that was her temple. You didn’t have the heart to kill her but you wanted her to believe that you would.

As much as Osha was already regretting not just returning to the shadows and never agreeing to work for the Jedi, this case was out of her hands the moment she went running to authority to get some sort of retribution on your behalf.

It didn’t matter though because the unexpected face-off between the remaining Jedi and a hostage gave Qimir the perfect window to steal a lightsaber and begin fighting against three opponents like he once taught Osha to do.

He twisted and landed a kick that slammed into a tree. While that one recovered, he held his own against two lightsabers. All the while, Osha was forced to watch the series of events that would lead her to run back into exile.

It was uncomfortably quick work he made out of the fight. With ease, he reminded his former acolyte about what she missed so much about being under his guidance. When the last body dropped you finally let go of Osha.

“Osha,” Your still expression even raised suspicion in Qimir because of how ambiguous it was as you looked at her. “You are a dear friend.” You stepped forward. “But we should never cross paths again in your lifetime,” you said as you carefully placed her blaster in her shake hands.

That’s when you turned Qimir. His pupils were blown as he watched you come closer until you took his hand. He was certain that he was dead until you brought his hand to your face and closed your eyes to feel him.

The image before Osha was an unfair reward for her unwavering dedication up until that point. She’d put everything into venturing to the dark side and was betrayed by a heart that had found someone to beat for. She would have never guessed that her master was heaven-struck all those years ago but there was nothing she could have done about it even if she was given a vehicle to travel through time. Sure she had a new master but the realization that things were different still hurt the same.

The apologetic look that Qimir and you gave just as you reunited diluted her blood as she had to sit in the choice she made. There was nothing more or less to say as you left her surrounded by dead Jedi as the both of you disappeared like the origins of a folktale.

She let out a scream at some point.

You looked out at the windows of the ship that Qimir managed to secure in the aftermath of your flying your planet. The wealthy smuggler who owed him a favor was the type to live on the ship she gifted. It was your new home now as you searched for another part of the galaxy to hide in until you were ready.

You walked into the control room with the tips of your hair wet from the humidity of the shower. The pitter-patter of your footsteps approached the ship pilot into the control area. He felt your hands slowly slide from his back to his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his neck until you were resting on his neck while looking out at pools of stars and asteroids. This is how it was in a soothing simplicity.

When he turned around and placed you onto his lap, your upgrades readjusted when your heart picked up. You looked at him with the same wildness that was directly reflected the kind in his.

“Qimir,” you said as you played with his hair.

“Hm?” he was tolling picking between looking at your lashes curtaining your eyes or watching your lips say his name.

“I want,” you paused to get a good look at the face you missed seeing for too long.

He leaned forward in raw anticipation. It caused you to shift as you stayed in place on his lap. You don’t think he noticed how ardent his focus was. “What,” he swallowed. “What do you want?”

As you thought of how you should word your request, his patience dissipated as he chose to kiss feverishly you and pull you closer by your waist. His soft lips were in stark contrast to how roughly he took your lips.

“Let me,” you tried to speak between the moments he would catch his breath to kiss you further. “Be,” you said into his lips, “your acolyte.”

He stopped to watch on in surprise as you played with the hem of his shirt like you hadn’t thrown him across the universe and back. As you were taking off his shirt he was still dazzled by your request.

Like an admirer of a painting, you placed your cold hands on his hot chest to commit the feeling of his skin to memory. Qimir heard his heart pop in his ears. Your hand continued to travel until you were able to find yourself in his pants “Please,” you implored as your hand pulled out his cock and your lips pouted in a plea.

It was unmistakable to you that he was heavens away from where you were as you spoke to him but you still continued to slip out of his lap to sit in between his legs as he remained seated. The way you looked up at him as you took your time to stroke his member made him moan not only for desire but from the sheer ecstasy of your presence. You opened your mouth and found a place at the tip of his cock.

Your head gingerly traveled further down as you felt every vein until as much of him was in you. Qimir felt you suck as you pulled back and it was divine torture. With each bob of your head, you fondled his balls in one hand and stroked the rest of his member that you couldn’t take.

He threw his hand back as his hands seized the armrest of the seat. Each time your tongue circles the slit of his tip, a groan slipped out. His precome was dripping as he gradually got hard enough for it to feel painful. The noises you made as you blew him filled the control room all the while the leather of the armrest tore the cushion contents spilled out. You pulled back for a moment a brought a trail of saliva from his blooming tip to your pink tongue. Nevertheless, he thirstily eagerly guided your return to the back of your head to pick up speed from where you left off.

His words were incoherent as you saw his legs shaking. It was evident that he was reaching his end when his locked eyes burst open as he was begging for air. He let out a heavy load into your mouth as you gaggled.

Ever the impatient man, Qimir was already bending you over in front of the window just as you were catching your breath. The robe you had secured around yourself after a shower already dropped to the floor as he lined himself up to your pussy and pushed himself into you with such consecrated desperation.

He crashed onto your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist to prove you weren't nothing but an apparition. For each time he pulled out and pushed back in, he stayed spilling sweet words into your hair. He was trying to take his time to savor the way your walls held onto him so tightly but it was nearly unthinkable by the seventh kiss.

You felt him slapping in and out of you as your pitiful babbling could on grew in volume. Your processor was working to keep your pulse viable. The sounds of your ass beating against his wet balls were disorienting as you secured your hands onto his hold around your core for support.

“Teach--" You couldn't focus as your breasts bounced along with the rhythm. “Teach me.” Qimir could hear the hunger in your voice. You started pushing back harder so the tip of his member could faithfully bruise your cervix.

Qimir lifted one of your legs and held it in place on the panel to angle himself better. The sound of you continuously saying “please” for so many reasons pushed him to drill you stronger as come trickled down your legs before he had even climaxed for the second time.

“Why?” he asked as he held your face up by holding onto your throat. It wasn’t a challenge but rather a question as to why you wished to go running into this one risk.

You couldn’t answer him as your knees were becoming wobbly from the stimulation until he had to hold you up himself to keep you satisfied.

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Stay with me a little longer.” He said as he kept pounding into you. You could feel the warmth running from your hot head journey down your body and striking every foreign part of you with lightning. You poured over him as you mewled. Your ending came like a waterfall as your juices further lubricated his thrusts to keep him chasing euphoria. By then you were completely spent, calibrating, and just holding onto him to relish the sounds of his gasps.

Once he came inside of you and let his sticky shot leak out through the in-between of the skin of his cock and your folds, you turned around to see him. In the fervor of the aftermath, you pulled into him, with your bare breasts against his chest.

“Give me a chance,” was all you told him with your head against his chest. You wanted to collapse no matter how well-adjusted you were as he kept cockwarming but he held onto you and wiped your sweaty face.

“You don’t need that.” Qimir had a slight blush on his face as he was catching his breath along with you. He intertwined your hand with his and was spiraling up to the cosmos. “I’ve already given it to you. Let me show you the power of two destined souls,” he said.

leave a comment, send an ask, or reblog. I always respond.

#qimir smut #qimir x reader #qimir x y/n #qimir x you #the stranger x reader #manny jacinto x reader #yandere!qimir #yandere #star wars fanfiction #the acolyte reader insert #the acolyte

250 notes · View notes

astayinwonderland · 11 months ago

Text

We can stay like this forever | lee taeyong

pairing: taeyong x f.reader

genre: smut | romance | exes to lovers

wc: 1.4k

summary: you and taeyong broke up two months ago so you call him with one purpose in mind.

warnings: unprotected sex (don't), pet names (sweet, baby), pussy slapping, cumming inside... lmk if I forgot anything.

“You don’t have to give this back, you know?”

“Yeah… but I want to. I need to,” you reply calmly.

Taeyong looks at the box filled with tangible memorabilia of your time together. The time that surely was a highlight in his life. He was blissful and felt invincible with you. He was so in love–no, he is still in love. He just can’t put together how a silly argument ended up in you two breaking up.

When you texted him to come over, he was hopeful. Were you willing to give him a second chance and get back together? All thoughts of his wish coming true evaporate when you greet him with that stupid box. He doesn’t want the box. He doesn’t need the box. His hoodies, letters, plushies… everything is yours. He is yours, even though you seem not to see it.

“It’s good to see you, my sweet,” he smiles, his eyes seeking something in yours. Some type of sign that you are still you. Some type of sign that you might still maybe love him.

You immediately close your eyes as soon as you hear my sweet leave his lips. It is indescribable what those two words do to you. You missed him so much, but he never called or showed up once you broke up. How could he want you back? You know you are not perfect, but the love you have for him makes you better. It makes you feel real and seen. Of course, that was when you were together. This is why you have to give everything back. It is just too much to have things reminding you of Taeyong.

“Good to see you too,” your voice is soft, barely audible. You can’t look at him, you’re afraid you’d break and cry.

Before Taeyong can break the awkward silence that followed, the rumble of thunder makes you jump.

“Is it raining?” you ask, making your way to the window.

Outside you can see how the weather’s changed. Grey-to-black clouds pour rain so heavily you can’t see much outside. You sigh and as you turn Taeyong is right there. His beautiful eyes stare right back at yours.

“You scared me,” you laugh, attempting to clear the awkwardness.

“I guess I should go… It was– a real pleasure seeing you, my sweet.”

“You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Taeyong laughs, making you swoon. He has the loveliest laugh, you’ve always said so.

“Of course,” he comes a bit closer. “You always will be my sweet.”

“You can’t say that,” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

“What happens when you are dating someone else?”

Silence.

The truth is, you regret the words that came out of your mouth. Just thinking about it hurts so bad.

“I don’t want to date anyone else,” he softly holds your hand, drawing circles with his thumb.

Suddenly you can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe.

“Uh– I should probably go…” he continues.

“No, wait! You can’t leave it’s pouring out there.”

“You sure you want me to stay?”

You nod. He shamelessly looks at your lips, making a silent prayer you would let him kiss him. Even if it is the last time he gets to kiss you.

“Fuck, baby,” and you just throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so tight.

“I miss you,” he whispers.

So you kiss him. Your body goes against the voice inside your head that asks you to stop, you broke up. But the way he melts into you tells you to keep going. Taeyong’s arms hold you firmly against him, almost as if he is scared that you will change your mind and run away from him.

He sucks on your bottom lip and you lose all sense of time. You should have never broken up, he is the light in your path of darkness. Removing your clothing you guide him to your bedroom, where you’ve shared countless nights of passion, long talks, and binge-watching TV. You gently push him onto the bed, his eyes spark as he can’t hide his excitement.

“Is– is this okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” your voice is almost a breathy moan.

So Taeyong thanks the heavens and immediately latches his mouth to your right nipple sucking as his hands caress your body, worshipping it. You close your eyes, lost in his touch, his breathing, his praises.

“I missed you so much, my sweet. You’re perfect. All I want is to make you feel good, make you never forget me.”

“How could I ever?”

You pull his hair and a low groan leaves his mouth. Smiling, he stops to kiss your thighs, all the way to your clothed core. He can smell your arousal and feel how wet you are for him, you haven’t changed a bit and he is glad. Two months without having you was being in hell. Your moans get louder as he licks your entrance on top of the soaking fabric of your panties.

Done with the teasing, you pull them down.

“Please, baby– fuck me. I need you so bad,” you cry.

Taeyong wants to take his time with you, but he can leave that for round two if you let him. Right now he will give you whatever you want like it’s his life mission because it is. The way your lips kiss him makes his heart beat so fast he feels it will burst out of his chest. You help him get rid of his clothes and kiss his chest, making a stop on his chest tattoo that drives you so insane.

“Show me how much you’ve missed me, baby.”

“You have no idea, my sweet.”

He positions you to face down on the mattress, ass up, granting him perfect access to your cunt. Slender fingers tease your hole as his other hand pumps his erection. As Taeyong enters you, pleasure course your entire body. This is the man of your dreams, your perfect pair, fucking you till your eyes roll back. His cock, wet in your arousal abuses your hole, again and again, his hands firm on your hips as he thrust into you, fast. He missed this feeling. You are so warm, so sweet, so perfect.

“We were made for each other. Shit… you feel so good, so– incredible.”

You moan in response your face weighing on the mattress. Taeyong put one of his hands down your clit and slapped hard he earns a muffled cry.

“I wanted this so much… faster.”

And he obeys. He obeys because anything that comes out of your mouth automatically is an order for him. He is doomed and he knows it, he is in love. And to be honest, he wouldn’t like it any other way.

Beads of sweat drip off his forehead as he rams into you, eager to make you cum. When his fingers pinch your clit and start moving in circles, adding pressure to it, you lose all composure. You are crying, pleading, moaning his name.

“Taeyong, Taeyong, Taeyong…”

How pretty his name sounds coming from your mouth. His other hand moves to your shoulder and he pulls you upwards, your back colliding with his chest as he keeps fucking you, now hitting that spot inside you. You see stars, you are so close.

Taeyong kisses your neck, sucking your sensitive spot he knows so damn well.

“Baby, I’m so close… f-fuck–ah!”

“Me too. Cum for me! I wanna hear you…”

With a few more thrusts his warm cums fills you as he cries in your ear after his release, triggering your orgasm. It’s so intense your head feels lighter than a feather and your legs tremble. Taeyong holds you near him or else you will fall. He kisses your temple and shoulders again and again.

“My sweet, sweet girl…” he breathes in your ear as you both come down from your high.

You find yourself between Taeyong’s arms, cuddling, eyes closed. The box you once planned to return is already forgotten in your living room. Not a word is spoken, is like time didn’t pass and you want to stay here until the end of time.

“I never stopped loving you,” you confess, eyes still closed.

Now he hugs you even tighter.

“Me neither.”

“Can we stay like this for a while? you ask.

“We can stay like this forever…” he kisses your cheek.

----------------------------------

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

but my love for this man ain't... ˜ masterlist

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong fanfic #taeyong smut #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #taeyong nct #astayinwonderland #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #lee taeyong smut

451 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months ago

Text

"What do you see in him?" "Everything you don't." - Jensen Ackles RPF Prompt Response

Summary: Jensen says something at a con that initially bothers you that prompts a conversation where you admit that there are certain parts of his job that you could easily do without, not sure how that's going to impact your friendship moving forward.

A/N: This is part of the Soldier Boy/Beau Arlen/Dean Winchester/CJ Braxton/Alec McDowell/Jason Teague/Tom Hanniger/Russell Shaw/Boaz Priestly/Jake Gray/Jensen RPF prompt response project I've been working on the last month. I wasn't going to originally add Jensen RPF in there but I had an idea and had to see it through. Speaking of which, this was not the original idea I had lol but after catching up on the Comic Con panel, this idea popped into my head and overtook the other one. The other one I may turn into a future ficlet.

Also, I just want to make it clear that this is not criticism or commentary on what Jensen said at the panel mentioned here or anything else he has said previously or even of his career or persona. This is just a story idea, an exploration of a theme or thread that could be within that world if that makes sense.

This is a kind of sequel to "Come Pick Up Your Ghosts", and can be seen as a possible prequel leading up to "i want better for you...what's better for you than me?" or a standalone in that regard. Jensen and the Reader are still platonic here but if you squint, you might see a tiny little something. ;) Just to clarify, there is no cheating/infidelity going on here, implied, suggested, or otherwise.

All unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: No disrespect is meant to Jensen, Danneel, or their family. I don’t know either of them or anyone connected to or associated with them. I merely take things from interviews, con videos, podcasts, and his public persona to create the “Jensen” seen here. This is purely for creativity and entertainment purposes. Just for fun.

Warnings: language; some angst; smidgen of humor

Word Count: 5372

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @bts24; @deans-spinster-witch

@rebel-paladin; @nancymcl

You can also read on AO3

Your assistant placed a file on your desk, grabbing your attention. “For the Whitman case.”

You briefly glanced up at her. “Great, Lauren, thanks.”

She nodded, picked up your empty coffee mug, and beat a hasty retreat to get you a refill, closing the door behind her. You couldn’t help but smile as you went back to your computer screen. Lauren had only been working for you a few months since Janice had retired, but she already seemed to be a great fit and had everything down pat.

You still missed your former assistant sometimes, though. Not only had you both worked together seamlessly for years, she had become a close friend and an almost motherly figure to you in times when you needed it most. You kept in touch and she invited you for holiday dinners, but as happy as you were that she was living her best life these days, there were still some moments that creeped up on you when you missed her dearly. And this morning just happened to be one such moment.

Your phone began to buzz with an incoming call. You glanced at the screen, huffing out an irritated breath at the name that popped up. Speaking of some sage motherly-like advice, you sure could use some right about now. Aggravation wasn’t your usual reaction to your best friend calling you, but this morning before you came to work, you had been catching up on some of the highlights of his panel the other day and there was one soundbite in particular that had you clicking your tongue in disappointment. You had briefly spoke to Jensen on Saturday night and he had texted you yesterday but you hadn’t known any of the specifics of how the panel went other than “It went well.” Not until you opened your newsfeed on your phone earlier and a headline popped out at you about Vought Rising and The Boys cast’s appearance on a Comic Con panel this weekend, with a video attached. That video led you to look up others until you finally arrived at the one that made you close everything out altogether and concentrate on finishing your coffee to hurry out the door.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance when your phone continued to vibrate and you hit the button on the bluetooth headset in your ear. “Hey,” you greeted curtly when the call connected. “I can’t really talk right now, Jensen. I’m about to meet with a client and—”

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Shit,” you silently mouthed to yourself and clenched your hands together. You then quietly cleared your throat. “I just told you. I have a full schedule this morning and I can’t—”

“Bullshit.”

Okay yeah, it was bullshit, he was right. Well, actually not entirely; you really had been trying to bury yourself in work since you arrived, earlier than normal (you’d even beat Lauren into the office), in order to prevent you from thinking about what he’d said and why it bothered you so much. “It is not bullshit,” you stated calmly, your jaw tensed. “I have a lot of work to do to prepare for court later this week. I told you that.”

“Y/N, you texted me early this morning, saying and I quote ‘Good morning, going to be super busy this week. Tons of work to do,’” he continued reading the message you had sent him before putting your phone on Do Not Disturb until about half an hour ago. “‘Hope you have a good shoot in Vancouver. Talk soon.’ Really?”

At that time, Lauren had decided to reappear with your new coffee. You gave her an appreciative nod and opened the file she had left for you, scanning the documents inside. “Yes, really. I just told you, I have a full week.” You waited until Lauren left and the door was closed once more. “I don’t see why that’s an issue.”

“You know damn well why.”

You expelled a quiet breath, telling yourself to bite your tongue and remain professional. It usually worked but Jensen had always had a way of getting under your skin.

“You knew I was going to call you once I got to set this morning. We even agreed on the best time for me to call.”

You did and you knew that your text was going to bother him once he received it, proven by him immediately trying to call you after you had sent it. But you just needed some space to think.

Jensen was up North shooting an episode for a series he was guesting on, coming off of Comic Con in San Diego. He had asked you if you wanted to go with him, since you had never been, but you had politely declined knowing you had an upcoming court case that you needed to prepare for. And now, having seen the video and heard what you did, you were glad you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. You would have been unable to hide your disappointment the entire time until you both went on separate flights, you going back home and him heading to Canada.

“What the hell, Y/N?”

“I’m just busy,” you muttered, gazing over the papers in front of you, pen in your hand, poised and ready.

“You forget how well I know you. That text is your polite way of saying ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you’ which means you’re pissed at me and you don’t want to talk.” You winced at his matter of fact tone. He wasn’t exactly wrong. “So again, what the hell?”

Now that he had you on the phone, calling you on your attempt at temporarily pushing him away via text, you started to examine just why you were annoyed with him — something you had been trying to avoid much like his attempts to contact you the last few hours. Suffice it to say, he wasn’t going to let this go, you both were bound to get into an argument, and then you were going to get the space you wanted, albeit a cold and tense space, until one of you caved and apologized. Something that had become somewhat of a routine in your friendship, though rare since you both usually got along very well.

So now that he was holding your feet to the fire per se, now that he was not letting you push him away so easily, you had to really think about why you were pissed, why your gut had clenched when you first heard the voice of your best friend come down the line, and why his careless off-the-cuff joke had bothered you so much.

“Y/N,” he spoke to you in a quieter tone than a moment ago. “Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath and tossed your pen onto your desk, sitting back in your chair. Fuck it. “‘Old titties’? Really?”

There was a beat of awkward, tension-filled silence, before Jensen immediately filled it. “Wait a second. That’s what you’re pissed at me about?” He let out a laugh of disbelief. “Seriously?”

You flinched and immediately sat up straight, grabbing papers and loudly straightening them into a neat pile on your desk. “You know what? I have a court case to prepare for and I also have a 12:30 who just arrived. I have a full day, you have a full day of shooting, so let’s just end it here, shall we? Have a great week, Jensen, and good luck. Talk soon.”

The laughter immediately stopped. “Whoa, hold up a second. Y/N, don’t—”

His voice was cut off as you pressed the button on your headset and then grabbed it, tossing it angrily onto your desk. Your phone started to buzz again but this time, you snatched it up, put the call to voicemail, and powered down the device before dumping it into your handbag and shutting the drawer it sat in. You clicked a button on your office phone and a moment later, Lauren’s voice filled your office.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“I’m going to be working on the Whitman case for the next couple of hours so please hold all calls.”

“Absolutely. Would you like me to order lunch for you in the meantime?”

A little bit of your fury went out of you at her sweet offer. Right, you were a professional, and no matter how much your friend had just pissed you off, you wouldn’t allow it to affect your work. “That would be great, Lauren. Thank you,” you let out in a deflating and tired breath.

“Of course. If you need anything else in the meantime, Ms. Y/L/N, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the phone. “Thank you.” You clicked off the button and dropped your head in your hands. You could still hear Jensen’s laughter and “That’s what you’re pissed at me about? Seriously?” You couldn’t completely blame him for his reaction; you knew it was something small and stupid to be angry with him for. His response to Jeff’s question on that panel had nothing to do with you after all. But the minute he’d said those words, you couldn’t help but think back to that scene he had filmed with the two older actresses from season 3. Granted, a sexual attraction to much older women was part of Soldier Boy’s character, but at the time you’d watched that scene, while it had been amusing as it was meant to be, you couldn’t help but have respect for the two actresses willing to strip down and put themselves on display for the camera like that. That couldn’t have been easy, no matter the type of the career they had embarked on, and you were in awe, wishing you could have confidence like that when you reached that age. Hell, you could do with some of that confidence nowadays. You hadn’t had sex in forever and no one had seen your bare body outside of your doctors in the last five years or so. You also hadn’t been to the beach or any pools in that time so no one had exactly seen you in any swimwear either.

Truthfully, aging was a bit of a sensitive issue for you. Not in a superficial, skin deep kind of way, but very much in a holy-crap-my-body-is-starting-to-turn-against-me-with-every-single-year way. As you got older, you continued to have more and more compassion for your elders, knowing that someday you would eventually reach that phase of life yourself. It made you appreciate your present everyday life all the more, but that didn’t mean you liked being reminded of where you (and every single person on the planet) were eventually headed. So any new gray hairs you found; any sign of aging in your skin; the fact that you absolutely had to get up at least once a night to use the bathroom now, no exceptions; how you couldn’t go without at least 7 hours of sleep a night or you’d be exhausted the whole day and even sometimes still were, not to mention the day after that and the next — you weren’t exactly thrilled to get those reminders.

You knew what Jensen had said had nothing to do with you in the slightest and you weren’t narcissistic enough to act as if it had or take personal offense to it. Even though you had been disgusted at his choice of joke, you knew he was simply on and he was providing entertainment for the cast and crowd, like he always did. People laughed at the joke and you knew none of them viewed it the same way you did. Not one of them felt as if it was an unfair indictment of your sex when they got older (something that couldn’t be helped) or if it was a commentary of disgust at the average older woman’s body as she aged or even something completely misogynistic (and even if it was, it was in character which is usually what Jensen tended to aim for when doing these appearances). No, you knew it had been taken as a simple joke as you should have taken it but you couldn’t help your visceral reaction of irritation followed by massive disappointment in your friend.

The Jensen you knew was not the Jensen the world saw. In your friendship, you had gotten to know a very different person altogether. While he enjoyed garnering laughs from people and was very quick to make witty remarks and jokes that added to a pleasant atmosphere that he encapsulated, you found over time that you really didn’t care for his public persona at times. Or at least when it came down to things like that. You knew it came with the job he was in, but you much preferred your friend to the Jensen Ackles that was solely for public consumption and engagement. Which is why you supposed you never took him up on his offers of visiting sets he was on, attending any Hollywood events such as The Boys Season 3 premiere in Brazil, or even meeting him at any of the several conventions he had booked over the years. Early on in your getting to know him, you had trouble reconciling the man you saw privately with the man who sat up on those stages or in front of those cameras. There was nothing wrong with either of them but over time, you found you much preferred it when there were no cameras, no screaming fans, no celebrities or Hollywood executives around — just him.

That didn’t mean you didn’t support his career; of course, you did. He had been successful on this chosen path way before you ever met him and he loved doing it. How could you not cheer on your best friend in a job that not only was he good at but also made him happy? But God, sometimes you wished fame, PR, and performativity weren’t part of the package. Despite the very nature of the business he had chosen to be in.

You straightened up and pulled the Whitman file closer to you. He hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing that you should feel angry with him for, and you would apologize to him later. Right now, though, you needed to get your head back into your own career and prepare for court that would be happening in the next two days’ time.

This whole thing was going to have to wait. Until you could make sense of things for yourself at least.

You watched as the couple on your screen awkwardly flirted, popping a yogurt-covered raisin into your mouth. The film wasn’t one you would usually check out; romantic comedies weren’t really your thing, especially the ones made these days. But there had been a particular selling point that caught your eye, that then had you watching the trailer, and before you knew it, you were fully invested in the movie and actually laughing at some of the cringe-inducing moments but also blatantly honest humor present throughout the story.

You were so invested that you jumped when your phone began to loudly buzz on the coffee table. You paused the movie and leaned forward to glance at the screen that had just turned on with a notification, sighing tiredly when you saw the name on it.

You picked up your phone and clicked on the message.

Just got back to the hotel. Long day. I’ll be up for a bit though. Call me if you want.

You pressed your lips together, thinking it over for a moment. You still hadn’t spoken to Jensen since your terse call earlier and you had cowardly kept your phone off for the rest of the day. Which meant that when you turned it back on the minute you walked back in your door, you had several voicemail messages (two were from him) and quite a few text messages (most were from him) suddenly blowing up the device. Everything from justified disbelief to annoyance to explanations to apologies to requests for you to answer him saturated your last several text messages. You hadn’t responded to anything from him just yet; you had been waiting until you felt ready to embark on that conversation, not sure how much you wanted to delve into when you both had it. He would want to know exactly why that joke had upset you, as any other person naturally would, and you weren’t sure if you felt comfortable enough to tell him and dump some of that crazy of yours at his feet. You knew you weren’t crazy obviously, but how could you tell your best friend that his doing a part of his job (successfully you might add) bothered you? And that you got mad at him for it? What, was he supposed to change that up because it hurt your feelings or added to your discomfort with said part of his job? Now, that was crazy.

You took a deep breath, ate a few more raisins, sipped your water, and decided the hell with it. Time to face the music. You pressed the phone icon next to his name and put your bluetooth in, waiting for the call to connect as you braced yourself for any justified irritation you might encounter. You were going to rip the band-aid off and apologize; he deserved nothing less from you after you had avoided him all day.

“Hey,” his voice greeted you warmly, something you hadn’t been expecting. It completely disarmed you, especially when you could hear the exhaustion lacing his tone.

“Hey.”

“You ready to talk now?”

You hadn’t really been truly ready about a moment ago even though you were going to push through it. But now, hearing the tired voice of your best friend after a long day of not being able to talk to him because you felt like you couldn’t — yes, you were. “Um, yeah.”

“Good.” You could hear him shifting in the background, letting out a weary sigh as he presumably settled wherever he had moved to. “Are you going to tell me why?”

You bit at your lip. “I just didn’t care for it, I guess.” You then dropped your head into your hands. Oh God, you did sound crazy.

“Oh-kay. Was it the word choice? Because I only—”

“No. No, it…” You expelled your own sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It had nothing to do with any of that.”

“Then what did it have to do with?”

You chewed at your thumbnail, not really wanting to tell him since you would sound even worse than you already did.

“Y/N,” he prompted. “What pissed you off about it?”

You dropped your hand to your lap and shook your head. Fuck it. “I just hate the forced performativity sometimes, okay? I get it, it’s part of your job, and I need to just shut up and stay in my lane. But you’re my best friend, I care about you, and sometimes I really, really dislike watching or hearing that side of you. Which is exactly why I choose not to engage with that world you’re in. Because to me, no matter how good you are at your job, and you’re incredible at it obviously, that performative bullshit isn’t you. Not the you I’ve gotten to know, anyway, and certainly not at that level. Like, sure, you try to make people laugh all the time and crack jokes, and I know you were probably a little nervous being on that panel so you had to break the ice somehow, I get it, but Jesus, Jensen. I just…” You let out another sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose, clenching your eyes shut. “I’m just not a fan of when you have to tap into that. I feel like sometimes you say things for the audience’s sake that just make me cringe sometimes and that I just can’t get behind. And that pisses me off because I want to support you but when you say shit like that, like some of the soundbites you’ve had these past few months, I just can’t. And I hate that, because I know that’s not you. And I absolutely fucking hate how judgmental I know I’m being right now but I can’t help how I feel. So that is what pissed me off about that stupid, insensitive, frat boy-ish, sexist, and quite frankly ageist joke, okay?”

A deafening silence filled the conversation then and you mentally cursed at yourself. Great. Well, this might be the end of your friendship and where you two parted ways. While the idea of it broke your heart, you couldn’t really blame him. You had just unleashed an incoherent rant of a word salad that anyone might take a second look at the concept of continuing a friendship with you for. You had called him to apologize…how had you gone this far off the intended track?

“Okay.”

Your eyes snapped open. “Okay?”

“Y/N,” he started gently, sounding like some guy on a nature documentary or something who was trying to soothe a wild animal into not seeing him as a threat. “It was meant to be a joke for the character. Just something to make people laugh while staying in character.”

“I know that. I get it, but—”

“There’s nothing more to it than that for me. We were promoting the prequel, promoting the last season, they even had me sit next to Ant since we’re going to dive deep into the whole Soldier Boy and Homelander dynamic when production picks back up. That’s all it was.”

Guilt and shame started to gnaw at you. He had explained these things to you, back when you were getting to know him, and he took you through the ins and outs of his job — even the things the public didn’t see or know about too much.

“As for the other stuff, I have to be honest, I’m not really sure what to say. I know you’re not crazy about any of it. I’ve known that for a while now. Every time you turn me down when I ask you to come to one of these things, always with the excuse of work or having to go to court. I didn’t push you on it because I figured maybe someday you’d be comfortable enough to say yes and let me show you how it all works. I get what you’re saying, I do…but, it’s my job, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment brought you up short and then made you feel even worse. It’s not that he hadn’t used it before, but something about the sad resignation that coated his voice right then caught your attention. What did he feel resigned to? “I know,” you whispered. “And I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” His voice sounded a little thicker than before that had your brows knitting together. If you didn’t know any better, he sounded slightly upset. Perhaps this had definitely been a step too far and he was now going to give you the boot. Or perhaps it was something else…something else he hadn’t told you yet that was bothering him and that’s why he had wanted to talk to you today when he asked yesterday what the best time to call you was. Oh shit.

“Jensen?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and you could hear him moving again, presumably sitting up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

You let out a quiet breath of relief when he sounded better than he had a moment ago. “Yeah.” You let a moment pass before you asked, ”You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Another minute of silence happened, slightly less tense than before but a little more awkward. Like neither of you knew where to go from here and you both were waiting for the other to break it to give you some sort of direction.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that it?” His voice broke at the end of his question but he cleared his throat once more. “Are we…done?”

It suddenly hit you what he was really asking, why he sounded so resigned earlier. Your heart broke a little more at the realization and you silently cursed yourself again. Instinctually, you knew exactly what to say to lead you both out of this pool of uncertainty you had unwittingly pushed you both into. You let out an amused snort. “Dude, you saddled me with an angry poltergeist that cost me a small fortune in repairs and I didn’t show you the door then. What makes you think I would now just because you were doing your job?”

Another moment of quiet passed and you started to worry that you had ruined everything when he finally responded with, “I can’t believe you’re still going on about that. And I offered to pay for those repairs even though we both know ghosts don’t really exist.”

Your lips relaxed into a relieved smile. “Says the ghost magnet who knows they do exist.”

“Oh my God,” he muttered into the phone. “How is it that a successful lawyer like yourself still believes in that crap?”

“Probably because said crap destroyed my house while I had to stay in a hotel for two weeks. And how is it that a guy who played a ghost hunter for fifteen years, who dropped a very real ghost on my doorstep and saw the damage it did live on facetime still doesn’t believe in that crap?”

“Because they don’t exist.”

“They do.”

“They don’t.”

“They do and you know it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t let me smudge you every time you drop by.”

“I only let you do that because it makes you happy and this way I only have to hear ten times that night how I supposedly brought a temperamental ghost the last time I walked in without being cleansed, compared to the usual fifty if I don’t.”

“Oooh, buddy, guess what you’re getting for Christmas this year,” you teased. “I’m placing the order online right now.”

“Christ,” he mumbled. “Don’t you dare or you know what I’ll be sending you in return.”

“You better not. I’ll hand deliver it to your doorstep and let your ghost friends have fun with it and you.” You weren’t really going to mass order sage and send it to him like you had threatened a few times before which had prompted him to threaten to send you several ouija boards in retaliation. Your friendship was a strange one sometimes, you’d be the first to admit it, but truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thinking about that, your smile faded and you pressed your lips together. “Jensen?”

“Mmm?”

“I really am sorry.” You truly were. You felt badly for even getting pissed at him in the first place. You still weren’t entirely sure why seeing him like that bothered you so much, despite already knowing the performativity was part of his job. It didn’t change the Jensen you knew and when he was on, it didn’t affect you. So why would it disturb you that deeply? You refused to look at it any closer, though; you had done enough living in your head for one day. And right now, you wanted to make things right with your best friend.

“It’s okay.” From the way he said it, you knew he was telling the truth. “But can you promise me one thing?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Can you just…talk to me next time and not ice me out like you did? I was wracking my brains all day trying to figure out why that joke would bother you enough for you to clam up and push me away like you did. You’ve never done that before, no matter how pissed off I made you or whatever arguments we’ve had, and I just— I need for you to talk to me when that happens. No matter how pissed you are. I know that you need your space sometimes, I do too, but…don’t shut me out. Not like that. Okay?”

“Okay,” you choked out, clearing your throat and scrubbing a tear from your cheeks. You were definitely not on the verge of crying. Not at all.

“We’re still going to talk about the job thing but I’d rather do that in person if you don’t mind,” he murmured. “I don’t really want to have that conversation over the phone.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

After a moment he asked, “So, what are you up to right now?”

You wiped away another tear that was absolutely not rolling down your cheek. “Um, just watching a movie.”

“Oh yeah? What movie?”

“Uh, Anyone But You? The new Glen Powell movie on Netflix?”

“Glen Powell,” he scoffed, making you smile when you heard his tell-tale annoyance at the mention of your current celebrity crush. While you both loved the Top Gun movies, something you had in common, he had finally figured out why you wanted to watch the sequel more times than the original. He would literally grumble and wear his grumpy Dean expression, much like you imagined he was now. Sure enough, he grumbled, “What do you see in that guy?”

You couldn’t help but huff out a chuckle. “Everything you don’t.” You stared at the image on the screen of a shirtless, wet Glen that you had paused on. “Like lots and lots of muscles,” you answered honestly as you eyed the fine looking man on your television. You were biting your lip again but this time for a whole other reason.

“Muscles,” he muttered.

“And the most gorgeous green eyes you’ve ever seen,” you added.

“Seriously?”

“And a killer smile. Plus, he’s from Texas, did you know that? Austin, your old neck of the woods.” You knew he knew all of this but you couldn’t resist needling him a little. His reactions were always amusing as hell.

“Oh yeah, I know,” he said in a mocking tone that betrayed that he was less than thrilled at your listing off of Glen’s attributes.

“You know, maybe I should take you up on your offer to go to one of these public events if he’s also going to be there.”

“That’s why you would finally say yes?”

“Among other things,” you teased.

“If I find out he’s going to be there, I’m not inviting you.”

“Jensen!”

“I’m just kidding…maybe.”

“You better be,” you growled.

“Yeah, yeah. Glen Powell,” he muttered again, making you smirk. “Lots and lots of muscles, green eyes, killer smile, from Texas…” An aggravated sigh came down the line. “Fine. What part of the movie are you on?”

“No, you have to watch it from the beginning. I’ll watch with you.” You eagerly clicked out of the movie and went back to its menu.

“So you can see more of Glen’s fine muscles?”

“It’s about the definition, not the bulk.”

“Uh huh.” He faked a gagging sound, making you chuckle. “You’re lucky I care about your happiness, Y/N. That’s the only reason I’m even indulging in this ogle fest masquerading as a chick flick.”

“Hey, it’s not a chick flick and Sydney Sweeney is in it, too, so don’t act like this great selfless sacrifice you’re making is going to be hellish torture for you.”

“Sydney Sweeney? Now, why didn’t you start out with that? Hell yes, we’re watching this movie. Let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and smiling. Typical. “You ready?”

“Not sure how long I’m going to last before it puts me to sleep, but yeah, ready when you are.”

“Okay.” You pressed the start button and saw the familiar production logos pop up.

A moment later you heard, “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you called.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you laid your head down on your couch pillow. “Me, too.” And you were. Regardless of anything else, no matter your disagreements past or present, first and foremost he was your best friend. As he began to tease you when Glen first appeared on screen, you couldn’t help but smile; in the end, that was all that mattered.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfiction #thebiggerbear writes #what do you see in him? everything you don't #jensen ackles rpf

153 notes · View notes

midnightsnyx · 1 month ago

Text

beautiful things p2 | mat barzal

my masterlist & part 1 pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: the aftermath of the interview. warnings: not edited, a lil angst but mostly fluff! please let me know if i missed anything. word count: 972 author note: i refuse to call twitter X. also there are most definitely inaccuracies but i hope you guys like anyways <3

“Hey, we made it on People Magazine’s Twitter,” Mat says eagerly, and you look up from the journal you’ve been jotting lyric ideas in. He has an endearing and adorable smile on his face as he looks at his phone.

Still, you can’t help but look at him, titling your head slightly “You haven’t been in People Magazine?”

He laughs but his smile doesn’t waiver. “Not all of us are insanely talented musicians.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and lean over to press your lips firmly against his. The past few months have been nothing but bliss, since you replied to his DM. You were scared to open your heart again after your last relationship but Mat has shown you thus far that if you find the right person, it’s okay to let someone in.

“I don’t know,” you tease, pulling away. “I’ve seen you with a guitar.”

He blushes and tries to hide it by kissing you again. You let him, mainly because you’re enjoying it but also because you don’t want to push.

You’re floating in pure euphoria right now, enjoying every moment and you don’t want it to end.

“You’ll come to tonight's game, right?” He asks, brushing a loose piece of hair out of your face and resting a hand on your shoulder. One thing that you’ve learned about Mat is how tactile he is. He always wants to be touching you somehow, whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you promise.

. . .

You love coming to Mat’s games, but some of the girls are still iffy about you which is understandable. You’ve only been dating Mat for five months and you are also in the media which brings a lot of attention. Sometimes unwanted attention.

You also love your fans but they have a love/hate relationship with your relationship with Mat. Also taking into account his fans, and sometimes it’s too much. Like tonight.

Everything starts great, there’s not much trouble getting to the stadium, but there are always fans waiting to hopefully get to see a hockey player or get a picture before the game. Someone sees you and then you’re back on Twitter and not the good side of Twitter.

You manage to get to your VIP suite pretty easily, Iris and some of your other friends with you.

“I’d say I told you so, but you’d probably fire me,” Iris says dreamily, staring at the jumbotron that is showing a live feed of you. You’re not sure if it’s something you’ll ever get used to. You imagine this is what Taylor Swift feels like when she goes to Travis Kelce’s games.

“You just did,” you reply dryly but there’s no malice to your tone. You know exactly how Iris is and you love her for it.

Your eyes go back to the jumbotron, looking to see if they show Mat. You think you can see him on the ice from your current view, but you’re never sure unless he looks up and waves.

“I’m glad I did, though,” you say and she looks at you for clarification.

“Message him back. You were right.”

She doesn’t say I told you so, or say any funny comeback. She just smiles and nods towards where the game has started.

It’s a tight game and you’re on the edge of your seat for most of it but the Islanders win in overtime with a victory of 2–1, with Mat scoring the overtime goal. You watch the team celebrate on the ice before they head back to the locker room and you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to Mat letting him know you’ll meet him at his place. With your security and his postgame interviews, it’s usually best to just meet at either of your houses.

You’re sitting with a glass of wine, watching the highlights from other games when Mat gets home. You can hear him drop his bag by the door and toss his keys on the counter before making his way to the living room where you are waiting. Max, your golden retriever is sitting by your feet but his tail starts wagging when he sees Mat.

“Hey pal,” Mat mutters, bending down to greet the pup before plopping down on the couch next to you. He sighs, staring at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, putting your glass on the table and turning towards him. He turns his head towards you and opens and closes his mouth a few times. You’re starting to get nervous when he speaks.

“Move in with me,” he whispers and you freeze.

“Mat-”

“Look, I know it’s only been five months but we spend all our time together anyway. We’re just bouncing between houses.” He reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “Let’s make it one house.”

The thought of moving in together absolutely terrifies you, but when you think about it, he’s right. If he’s not away for games or you’re not doing shows, you’re together and when you think about the future, Mat is standing next to you.

“Okay,” you say and his eyes widen.

“Really? I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg,” he says and you’re not sure if he’s kidding or not.

So you shrug. “You make valid points. Plus, I think Max would like not to be shuffled around so much.”

He grins and leans in to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur when you pull away and then Max jumps up on the two of you as if he knows a decision has been made and Mat almost falls off the couch but you have never been happier.

tag list: @ilyrafe

#allies writing #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you

133 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 5 months ago

Note

Hey if you're taking requests how about one of Leigh Shaw from Sorry for Your Loss?

Fem!R and her meet in group or something different if you want. Fem!R is handling the grief of her loved one a lot differently than Leigh does because whoever it was that R lost told them to still be happy once they were gone and in a way got more closure than Leigh got.

Maybe it could be angsty to hurt/comfort when Leigh tries to call R out on how she's dealing with grief and R just tries her hardest to help Leigh through her own grief and maybe they kiss by the end? R telling Leigh that she isn't Matt and she doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

Lost in Grief

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem! Reader

Summary: Everybody deals with grief differently, so how do you assure the new woman in your life that you would never do anything to hurt her like she has been.

Angst, Fluff, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of death of a loved one, suicide, cancer, depression & grief. | 1.3K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I don’t believe I have written for Leigh before and unfortunately, I have only been able to watch SFYL twice so bear with me if I make any mistakes! Anyways, with that, I hope you enjoy! x

It’s midnight and you had just gotten to Leigh’s house, knocking softly on the front door of her mother’s home. She not long ago called you in tears, breaking down in grief over Matt’s death. You had met the woman in grief group, the two of you being able to bond over the love for donuts and how they were the highlight of going to group.

You knew of Leigh’s story, and she knew of yours. The two of you having to deal with different kinds of grief. For Leigh, it was sudden and unexpected. She had questions and nobody to give her answers to them, she had been going through moments of finding out more about her deceased husband that she didn’t know. All the new information only threw her deeper in the darkness of her depression but every now and then, she would smile and share a laugh and you could tell that in those moments, she was feeling okay.

For you, it was completely different. You lost your soon to be wife to cancer, you had months to prepare for her death, you had no questions but a broken heart and an empty house. But with time and the help of talking to a grief group, you finally saw the comfort your late fiancé left you with. She always said she wanted you to be happy and not let her death eat you up and make you hate the world; she never wanted you to lose sight of the beauty the world held just because you couldn’t share it with her. Of course, you missed her dearly and you will forever love her, but it’s been almost two years and things started to feel differently.

Leigh opened the front door, her face soaked in her tears as she crashed into your arms. You hugged her tightly, letting her break down even more in your arms. She mumbled things you couldn’t make out through her sobs; things you were sure she would repeat when she had calmed down. You waited patiently for her to settle, giving her as much time as she needed, never letting her go.

Matt passed away a year ago, the pain never stops, you knew that, but you hated to see Leigh in such pain. If she would let you, you would do everything you could to take her pain away, to make her happy again. Oh, how much you wished to see her truly happy, maybe it would show you a completely different side of her. It was moments like these that made you thankful for the time and comfort you got from your fiancé before she passed, this is what she didn’t want for you, to be in Leigh’s shoes.

“Do you want to grab a donut and we can talk?” You offered when the woman eventually calmed down, pulling away from your hold and wiping her tears on the sleeves of her sweater. She weakly chuckled, “it’s midnight, no place is open” she reminded you.

“I have some at mine” you offered. She smiled softly with a light nod, “I can’t turn down a donut” she said.

“I wouldn’t let you” you smiled.

----

“Nothing makes sense” Leigh frowned after finishing her jam donut, “like, I keep going over everything and I just can’t make sense of it. I mean, I don’t think he just died by accident, but it almost kills me to think he killed himself” she added. This was the circle she continued to keep herself in, no matter how many times she would have this conversation with you, it was almost as if your advice and thoughts went in one ear and out the other.

“And you?” She suddenly snapped, “I don’t understand how you can be as fine as you are” there it was, Leigh’s true thoughts coming through. “How can you just forgive your fiancé for not fighting? How can you live each day not hating the pain she left you in?” She went on.

“I guess, I had closure” you admitted, knowing how unfair it was for her to hear this. “She told me not to let myself get to a point where her death would consume my life. I miss her every day and I am angry that there wasn’t anything I could do. She simply had bad luck, but I can’t hold that against her. I think you’re angry with him, he left you so suddenly. He left you with so much pain and questions you’re running around trying to find answers too and it's slowly killing you” you added, looking her deeply in her green eyes.

It was silent between the two of you, Leigh didn’t want to admit that you were right, she thought what she had was perfect and nothing could ever ruin that, but it was ruined, it was taken from her by the very person she loved the most.

“and I-“ you paused, breaking the silence. Your eyes dropped to the floor as you ran your tongue over your bottom lip, “I hate seeing you like this” you added in an almost whisper.

“But you’re right” Leigh replied, letting her tears fall freely. “it’s killing me” she added.

You slowly looked up at her wanting nothing more than to just tell her how you'd been feeling but now was not the time. “I just wish things weren’t so hard, I wish I just knew what he was thinking, I wish I could’ve helped him. Even if his death was an accident, he was still hurting” she added.

“It’s easier said than done, I know but you can’t keep running in circles Leigh. You deserve to be happy again, to enjoy life again and I think deep down you know that Matt would want that for you too” you gave her a comforting smile but all she did was nod in reply. “How about you stay here tonight, I’ll take you home in the morning” you offered when your eyes caught the time on the clock hanging on the wall of your living room.

“Only if that’s okay, I really don’t want to put you out”

“Don’t be silly, I have guest room” you smiled once more.

----

It had been a week since you last saw Leigh, after you dropped her off at her home the following morning. She’d been ignoring your texts, hadn’t been in grief group which made you think maybe you had upset her with some of the things you said to her that night. You ran into her sister, Jules, at the store who told you that Leigh had just been working extra classes while their mother was under weather. It helped ease the thought that maybe you had hurt her, but it still didn’t stop your worries.

A soft knock on your front door interrupted you cooking dinner, you turned the stove to low and wandered over to the door to open it to Leigh.

“Leigh, are you okay? I haven’t heard fro-“ she cut you off by crashing her lips on to yours in a deep kiss. It was unexpected and sudden but you found yourself wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her close into you, deepening the kiss.

Leigh pulled away, eyes filled with tears as you gently cupped her face, “I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about what you said, and I thought maybe you were trying to tell me something else” she said in destress.

You wipe her tears, “don’t be sorry” you said, looking her deeply in her eyes once again, “I was. I know Matt hurt you and I swear on my life, I would never do that to you, ever. You need time to heal, I understand that, and I will always be here for you. I’m not him, I’m going anywhere” you added.

“Do you promise?” She asked, searching your eyes for an answer.

“I promise” you replied softly.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #Leigh shaw #Leigh Shaw x reader #Elizabeth olsen

117 notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 11 months ago

Note

Hi hi! If the kinktober requests are still open, could I possibly ask for a dark!Billy Washington with a religious/innocence kink (like the reader is innocent and he wants to corrupt her), maybe even breeding if it’s not too much to ask?

If it’s not acceptable, it’s okay!!! Thank you, and I hope you are well 💕💕

Authors Note: Thank you love I hope you’re well too thank you. Don’t worry it’s not too much at all! I went more down the innocent road rather than the religious one but I hope you don’t mind,

Warnings: THIS TECHNICALLY INVOLVES NON-CON AS BILLY TAKES ADVANTAGE OF A DRUNK PERSON, p in v sex, innocence, breeding kink, manipulation, stalking, Billy talks bad about religion, dirty talk, breeding kink, virginity loss, cock warming technically, obsessive behaviour, anxiety, ptsd, sort of drugging, Dark!Billy Washington, (IF I MISS ANY LET ME KNOW!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @helaelaemond @omgbrcat

Ever since Billy was young, he never truly had anything that solely belonged to him.

His toys were always ripped and battered from Lana. His clothes throughout his younger years till all the way to his late teens were always worn down by his dad. Even his girlfriend at the time had said on the second date that she was seeing this other guy too.

Everything Billy had owned, had always been used by another person. And he thought that was what his life would be like from then on. Getting life’s second hand leftovers. That was however, until he met you.

You were perfect. A virgin if he ever saw one, who had been untouched by a man. Unspoiled, dare he even say.

Which is why he was so eager to have you in his lap, crying out his name for everyone to hear who you belonged too.

Billy had originally met you in one of his rehabilitation group sessions. You weren’t one of the ones part of the session. Instead, you were one of those helping out as one of the few volunteers. All decked out in your typical skinny jeans and plain t-shirt, all brought together by the name tag where your name shon with black sharpie.

He can’t deny that he wasn’t ever annoyed by the high pitched fakeness of your tone as you would sometimes speak to him, but he can’t deny that your body bending over to pick up leaflets certainly made up for it.

He finds himself watching you continuously. Never allowing himself to let his eyes leave you. He even followed you home once. The way his heart beat hard against his chest as he made sure to walk twenty paces behind you becoming an addictive feeling he’s never felt before in his life.

He even wrote it all down. He wrote about the parties he heard you talking about with another volunteer, friends names you mentioned hanging out with, making sure to highlight any that sounded like it belonged to a man in red.

Only the watching wasn’t enough for him. As soon, after coming up to his fifth month of group, he became desperate for the feeling of your skin. Sure, he’s felt it briefly when you’ve passed him something, but it was a different sort of touch he was craved.

Billy craved for the feeling of your wet walls clenching hard on his cock while you moaned for more. He wanted the feeling of your nails, currently painted an odd shade of yellow, digging so harshly into his back that he could feel blood trickling down till a puddle formed on the sheets. He wanted your lips that he knows you paint with strawberry lipgloss on his. Smothering you in love, devotion, obsession, until he knows you’ll never leave him.

He plays the game when he talks to you finally. Talking about his sad little life, relishing in the sad faces you make as he tells you his story. At the end of it, you even offer him a hug for what he’s been through, a pathetic thing which still he quickly accepts, committing to memory the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest.

He craves the feeling again, and again. So he does what he does best. He tells you more stories about him. Weaving little white lies about himself to gage your reactions and see if your sympathy is true or not. And to his delight, it is.

Whenever Billy manages to get you to open up about yourself, there is always a mention of faith, and gods generosity and kindness scattered in there. It’s annoying really, but if he has to put up with it to be with you, he will. Cause theres nothing stopping him from being with you. Not even God, who supposedly watches all.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner tomorrow? As a thank you for helping me through this tough time in my life and all?” Billy asks once, zipping up his jacket in a supposed carefree manner, pretending not to smirk at the sight of your bashfully bright red face looking at him worriedly.

“I don’t know if I can-“

“Please?” He interrupts, putting on a begging face as he looks at you, admiring the way you begin to bite your in a nervous manner. “I just want to repay you in anyway I can.”

You seem to think on it a few minutes before nodding in agreement. And for the first time in his pathetic little life, Billy Washington feels like God is smiling down on him.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at around seven. Can I have your number so I can text you?”

Everything is going to plan, Billy thinks as he adds your number in his phone, secretly adding a small heart to the end of your contact name. Everything is falling right where he wants them to…

He doesn’t follow you home that night. Allowing you the privilege this once as a special sort of treat.

The next day though, Billy’s mind is solely on you. How he’s going to impress you, how he’s going to talk to you, and even how he’s going to possibly fuck you too.

The thoughts only darken when he gets the text from you saying your address, not that he needs it, and he arrives in front of your house ready to pick you up, texting you to say he was waiting. Which by the look of you, was well worth the wait.

The dress does wonders as it desperately clings to your curves. It being a black material that stops a little above your knees, and does not much to cover your breasts that he can clearly from where he sat in the can see straining against the fabric.

“You look gorgeous.” Billy states, smirking at the way you blush under his praise. Hiding the way his eyes roam over your body as your distracted putting the seatbelt on in the car, and quickly tearing them away to look in front as you turn to look at him.

Though as he moves to turn the keys to start the engine, the sudden urge to check the car overcomes him. Even though Billy knows that he checked the car at least three times before coming to pick you up.

“Billy, are you alright?” You ask, your eyes wide with concern and your hand softly laid on his arm in a comforting manner.

As much as he wants to yell and panic though, he knows for your sake he needs to act calm. So he tries to speak with the calmest voice he can muster at that moment.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine love. Little nervous that’s all. Nothing to worry about!” It doesn’t come out as smooth as he likes, as he can immediately feel the harshness of his tone. Slightly regretting the fact he’s directing it at you.

“Please take your time Billy. It’s okay.” He recognises your work voice immediately, and yet it seemingly works as he begins to deeply breathe, and his heart manages to calm itself down somehow. Possibly because he’s focusing on your hand that you’ve placed on his shoulder, your thumb tracing small shapes on his back.

After a few minutes though of silence filled only with his heavy breaths and your calming murmurs, he’s ready to go again. Turning on the car engine with a deep breath and moving his feet to move the car. Even allowing himself to turn on the radio and have some random pop song play in the background that to his amusement you begin humming along too.

When the two of you eventually get to the restaurant Billy made the reservation at, he lets a sigh of relief he didn’t even realise he was holding go. Quickly moving to get out not due to the anxiety caused by the car, but so he can move to your side and open the door for you, making sure you don’t get hit by any oncoming traffic.

“Why thank you kind sir!” You giggle, a faint redness on your cheeks spreading to your ears that makes Billy want to shove everything out the way and just take you right then and there in the car until there’s nothing left to take. To claim you until there’s nothing left for him to claim.

“You’re welcome my dear lady!” He grins back, eager to get inside and sit with you properly.

When Billy steps inside the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open again for you, he silently says his name to the man waiting by the reservation book, and is so grateful for everything when the man says the table is already available to sit at and begins to lead him and you to the table. Once again making sure that before you sit he pulls the chair out for you, to which you giggle once again at his actions. If Billy had his way, he’d record your laugh and make it so he could listen to it every hour of the day.

The menus the two of you are given are large, and filled to the brim with unknown names of foods Billy has no idea the origins of. His eyes try to find the familiar things. The restaurant burgers. The pizzas. Even the steak and chips. But there was absolutely fuck all. The only thing he actually spotted was yes, a steak, but it was nearly forty quid. And as much as he wants to impress you, he also wants to not be bankrupted by a fucking steak and chips.

His eyes anxiously look over at you in front of him, and to his strange relief, he sees your own awkward eyes already looking back at him.

“You alright?” Your eyes flick from the menu to him, and he begins to understand what you’re implying.

“This a very fancy place Billy. Where did you hear about it?” You ask, closing the menu and putting it down on the table as you await his answer.

“My uh, my sister may have recommended it when I asked her for a fancy place to ea…” He mumbles, his eyes trailing to the table as his anxiety makes itself known again. That is however, until your hand comes into his line of sight, and it intertwines with his own. A feeling of warmth that Billy never felt with anyone, especially with Becky, making itself known in his chest.

“Your sister Lana right? Well I think she made the right choice when you said fancy, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think I know even three quarters of whatever is on this menu!” You laugh, and Billy can’t help but let out a sigh of relief at your words.

“Me neither!” He laughs, finding himself enjoying your shared confusion. “Did you want to get out of here? We could always go back to mine and order a takeaway?”

“Oh my god that sounds perfect! Can I just say though I have been craving a Chinese these last few nights, so could we get that please?” A rare genuine smile takes over Billy’s face as he subdues every urge within him to kiss you for how perfect you are for him, and instead, he just agrees with your option, and goes to stand before moving to take your hand in his. He relishes in the warmth your hand provides while he drags you to the exit, the two of you giggling like children as you pass the waiter who sat you down not even five minutes ago, and currently looking at the two of you in deep confusion.

He possibly even calls after the two of you, yet Billy and you are already stepping out the door and making a beeline towards the car, giggling like children as you do so.

There isn’t the same hesitation this time when Billy moves to start the car, nor is there the same compulsion to check the cars entirety for explosives. This time, he can only focus on the way your head tilts back when you laugh, and how he wonders if you would do a similar thing when he fucks you. Your neck looks perfectly bared for him, and he can’t help but make a slight noise as he thinks about marking the entire area with his teeth and lips.

By the time the two of you get to his flat, Billy’s cock is by the least semi hard in his trousers, practically begging to be touched by you.

Even when the two of you get inside the building and into the elevator, you chat about random things while he imagines pinning you against the wall and filling you. He images you begging for him to stop, that someone will find and see the both of you. Only he won’t stop. He’ll continue eating your pussy till you cum all over his face, like a dirty slut he knows you to truly be.

“We’re here, Billy?” You say, tearing him from his thoughts and reminding him of where he is. Of who he’s with. The one who’s made his cock almost fully hard right now in his underwear.

“Shit sorry!” He apologises, pretending he was just lost in thought as he opens the door and allows you to head in before him, ladies first and all that shit, before the heading in and closing the door behind him, and locking it in the process. Unbeknownst to you though, who’s too busy admiring every little thing in the room as if you’ve never seen anything like it before.

“Didn’t know you played guitar!” You gasped, pointing to the pathetic looking thing sitting in the corner of the room.

“I don’t…” He grumbles, remembering all the lessons he had and forgot as a lanky teenager. He chooses to ignore the regretful expression on your face, and instead focusing on getting the Chinese takeaway leaflet hung on his fridge with a random magnet, handing it to you and asking what you want to order. His treat.

You answer with basic menu items, but Billy has no idea if it’s because you actually like that food, or because you think he doesn’t have enough money or spice tolerance to order the more extreme items. Either way though, he doesn’t mind. In both, he still has you sitting on his shitty second hand sofa eating a meal with him. He’s practically in fucking heaven and nothing could take that away from him.

The talk in between the ordering and the delivery is basic too, as Billy makes sure to focus all the attention on you. What you like to do in your free time, what your favourite foods are, what are your family like, etc. They totally aren’t questions he needs to know if he ever locked you in his home sometime in the future….

Though as he’s getting to know your dream job as a child, a princess, which is unsurprisingly basic of you, there’s a knock on the door. And when he unlocks it and opens it, a friendly looking man stands there holding the food bag with the restaurants logo in his hands, ready for his payment, which Billy gives with a small nod before shutting the door and locking it again behind him.

When he gets to the living room though, he’s thoroughly surprised to see you’ve already managed to find plates and cutlery to eat with.

“That was quick!” He chuckles in amusement, finding it cute the way you shy away suddenly from his gaze.

“Shut up!” You laugh, busying yourself by setting the food up on the small table in front of the sofa. Billy walks into the kitchen again, hanging up the menu in its original place on the fridge before opening it and hesitating on grabbing a can of beer, thinking of the situation at hand, and instead grabbing two cans of off brand coke he bought at Aldi a couple days ago. Bringing them into the living room and placing them on coasters you somehow also managed to find.

“Thanks Billy!” You smile, and that warm feeling rises again in his chest, fighting against the feeling of arousal that you somehow haven’t noticed yet, probably due to his slightly baggy shirt covering it. He almost wants you to notice it though. He wants you to know how hard he is for you, and how hard it is to stop himself from dragging you to his bedroom, whether that’s with you willing or not with you kicking and screaming, and taking you as his own. Taking you as his, having you solely as his own… It was pretty fucking intoxicating.

The two of you begin to eat, putting on some random tv series in the background as the two of you talked some more about only you each other.

Billy excuses himself though to grab more drinks for the both of you, but this time something stops him from grabbing another can of coke. Instead, something pulls him towards the cans of beer, his hand frozen at it reaches out to them.

“Do you want something stronger than a coke? I’ve only get some beer cans though!” He calls, grinning like the cat who ate the canary when he hears you enthusiastically say you’d love that, practically strutting into the room with the two cans in his hands.

Billy only sips at his every so often, but you, you drink the cans easily like water, and Billy can’t help himself but bring you more, until you’re giggling like mad and laying your whole body on his for some stability. He’s not even surprised that you’re such a lightweight.

“You know, I’ve always thought you were really cute…” You say, the words sending bolts of pure lightening down Billy’s spine.

“Oh really now…” He smirks, using your brought on ditziness as an excuse to touch your face. The perverse voice in the back of his head loud and proud as you seem to almost instinctively nuzzle into his palm.

“Good girl…”

It comes out before he thinks, and Billy freezes in horror soon as he says it. Though that quickly melts away, and a new familiar feeling comes over him as he can physically see your breath hitch and your face bloom a light shade of pink.

“Oh, did you like that little one? Did you like me calling you a good girl for me?” Billy purrs, his other hand finding a place on your hip as you wordlessly nod your head in agreement.

Your eyes appear droopy, yet somehow, also entirely focused on his lips that still are curled into a dark smile.

“Do you want to kiss me little one?” He doesn’t even wait for a direct answer though, as as soon as he says this he moves in to connect his lips to yours. A noise that could be called a snarl roaring within him as he feels your lips moving against his own, and your body eagerly moving to sit on his lap. He releases a small sound of surprise at your sudden eagerness, yet he certainly isn’t disappointed by it.

“Eager little thing…” He chuckles, quickly moving to kiss you again, savouring the taste of your lips. A little salty from the food, a hint of alcohol from the many beers, and strawberry from the lipgloss he always sees you put on. It’s a strange combination, but so fucking addictive that Billy doesn’t think he could ever tire from it.

So the two of you stay like that for a while. The tv still playing some random channel 4 programme in the background, while the two of you kiss to your hearts contents. Billy’s hands still firmly grasping on your hip and your jawbone. You however, seem to be dissatisfied with the situation. As your hips begin to grind slightly on his boner which you’ve finally noticed, and you make small gasps of air as you both continue kissing.

Though the ache in Billy’s own clothes begins to become too severe and prominent. So he feels he has no other choice but to suddenly release himself from your lips, much to your chagrin as you whine in annoyance.

“Now now little one no need to whine so much. Cause I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Gonna shove my cock so deep in your wet tight cunt that you’re gonna be feeling me for days… do you understand me?”

You quickly nod your head, and Billy hums in approval, making quick work to strip you of your clothes. But before anything, he pulls the top of your dress down, and puts his mouth on your gorgeous fucking tits.

“Oh Billy!” You whine for the first, though certainly not the last time that night. His lips and teeth making quick work to mark and suck at your skin, humming in delight as he moves as he pleases. Some areas were already developing dark marks, while some were just shiny from to practically drooling mouth.

It takes a long time before Billy feels like he’s properly ‘marked’ you. His eyes shining in approval as his eyes wander over his canvas, aka, your chest.

“Billy please I want you!” You whine, biting your lip with a dazed look in your eyes.

“Oh yeah? You want me that badly huh…” Billy hums, relishing in the attention he has never been given before. He relishes in the feeling of your entire being wanting him as desperately as you did right now. It almost makes his head spin with all that focus on him alone.

You eagerly move your head up and down, and all Billy can find himself doing is moving you to lay on the sofa, his hands eagerly moving to tear the remaining clothes on your body off and fling it somewhere in the room.

When you are naked in front of him though, the air in his lungs practically vanished as he has to stop and admire you. Your upper half covered in his markings, while your lower half he can see is shiny all from your wetness.

“Fucking beautiful…” He murmurs, not bothering to see your reactions as he lunges forward and begins to frantically move his tongue around your cunt.

Billy Washington may not have gone down on any many women, but with all that time he’s spent watching crappy porn videos and jerked himself off imaging going down on you, the enthusiasm he shows certainly seems to make up for it.

He can hear the sounds of your moans above him, which makes him even more desperate to make you cum on his tongue and feel you later in the night soak his cock. His lips suck and nibble slightly on your clit, and he chuckles into the depth of your warmth as he feels your thighs clenching round his head and your hand gripping as tight as it could in his hair.

Billy doesn’t stop after the first time you cum on his tongue, humming delightfully at the taste of you. He doesn’t even stop after the second. He only stops after the third, when you’re practically crying for him to stop. The sound of which sending such a thrill down his entire body that he knows he needs to fuck your now, or else he’ll go insane. Or at least, more insane than he possibly is.

He takes his clothes off at a normal pace, as as much as he’d like to strip as quickly as he could to sink himself deep inside of you, Billy can’t help but chuckle at your wide eyed hazed looking eyes staring at every inch of his body, seemingly unable to look away. It was that moment that made him remember what drew him to you. It’s what made him remember that you were an actual virgin, making it that this moment would be the first you ever saw a cock.

“Beg for me.” Billy grunts, leaning over your body and caging you with his own. The grip on your body tightening when you don’t respond to his demand.

“Please Billy! You suddenly whine, his own eyes focused on your lips that look swollen and sore from both kissing and from you biting them in an attempt to muffle your noises from earlier. “I really want you to fuck me! Wanna feel you deep inside me! Please!”

He grunts, surprised at your use dirty words, but certainly satisfied enough from them, and thrusts himself forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with a loud deep groan. He can feel your whole body tense at the intrusion, and for only your benefit, Billy keeps himself as still as he can so you can get used to this unknown feeling of his large cock in your small little cunt.

“The best little fucking pussy.” He murmurs with furrowed brows, your own face scrunched up in pleasure and your mouth hung open in a silent scream.

He wants to start thrusting hard and fast, but instead he starts slowly. Allowing himself to relish in the whimpers you let out as he pushes himself as deep as he can inside you before pulling out and leaving only the tip inside you.

“G-go faster Billy!” You whine, the grip you have on his forearms leaving small indents from your yellow painted nails.

“Say please now, little one.” He grunts.

“P-please Billy! Please fuck me faster and harder!”

“Good girl…” He praises, gripping your writhing body tighter before moving his hips as fast as he can, almost laughing out loud at the way your voice goes nearly ten times higher at the sudden change in pace.

The sounds themselves though are barely illegible. Words half spoken before they’re cut off by a moan or two. It was fucking heavenly, if Billy dared to call it that.

His only true focus though, is the feeling of your wet warm walls clenching every so often on his cock, and that rough patch he hits when he thrusts his hips at a certain angle, which draws such a wanton sound from your lips he’d almost believe he was watching a live action porno.

Billy tries so hit it more, shuffling his body so he can try and hit that spot as much as he can. Which even though it’s takes an almost embarrassingly long time to find, it’s certainly rewarded by the new noises you make and the way your body twitches against him.

It feels like a fucking dream. The way you’re practically crying from the pleasure and the way you hold onto him refusing to let him go, desperate for more like an eager slut. He knows at that very moment that he’ll never willingly let you go now. Not when he feels you cum hard on his cock for the fourth with what could only be called a shriek falling from your lips, the feeling of which triggering his own release so his cum shoots as deep as it could inside you. No condom being there to stop him from doing so.

The sound of his heavy breathing mixed with your own, excluding the tv which continues playing some unknown thing, is all the two of you can hear as you wordlessly stare at each other. His cock, that by now has softened, is still inside you. Yet the closeness of that is strangely comforting to him. More comforting than anything he’s felt with anyone else.

Billy still doesn’t speak as he moves the both of you to a more comfortable position. Neither do you as Billy moves to spoon you, still with his cock inside you, his cum though beginning to leak from your cunt down to your thighs.

His face burrows in your neck, and he breathes in your scent slightly before pressing a light kiss to one of the more higher up hickeys he earlier marked on your chest.

His right hand cups your stomach, where he knows his cum is currently located, and he imagines what would happen if he had gotten you pregnant right now. An thought of him and you living in a nice house just on the outskirts of London, him coming home from work of some kind and being greeted by you at the door all dolled up with a miniature you hanging on your hip. It’s intoxicating, it’s gorgeous, and he knows he’d hurt anyone, and do anything possible to see that dream become a reality for him.

As you nuzzle back into his warmth, the effects of the drinks still lingering in you, you have no idea of his thoughts. No idea of what you have just set into place.

You have no idea that you’re never leaving Billy Washingtons embrace ever again.

#billy washington smut #billy washington x you #billy washington x reader #billy washington #trigger point #trigger point show #ewan mitchell character #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell

166 notes · View notes

scrollonso · 3 months ago

Text

Gentle — Marcmarc oneshot

Marc steadies Marco with a hand on his thigh as he leans over Marc’s lap, reaching for the popcorn on the sitting room table. His boyfriend makes a little questioning noise in his throat, and tilts the bag towards Marc, but Marc just shakes his head with a smile, hand rubbing up and down his thigh affectionately. Marco looks so cute like this, dark curls in his eyes, dressed in just a hoodie and sweatpants, light from the TV highlighting his face every now and then.

Marc doesn’t miss how Marco scooches a little closer to him when he puts the popcorn back down, pressing his body closer into Marc’s side, the two of them comfortable and lazy in Marc and Alex's house. He takes it as permission to keep stroking Marco's thigh, moving his thumb in small circles. His attention is easily diverted from the movie to instead watch Marco pick up one piece of popcorn at a time, nibbling and swallowing before starting the next, like he’s a squirrel or something.

Marco notices him staring quickly, glancing his way with his wide, puppy-dog eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Marc smiles, and leans in to kiss him, tasting the salty popcorn on his mouth. He wants more of it, and kisses him again, longer and slower.

Marco sighs with a happy, low noise when he pulls away, and Marc realises he’s gripping Marco's thigh a little harder than before, though Marco doesn’t seem to mind. “Where did that come from?”

“Can’t I kiss my gorgeous boyfriend?” he asks, leaning forward again to press a kiss to where his jaw meets his neck, burying his nose in Marco's soft hair.

“Of course,” Marco says, voice softer now. “But you could tell me what brought it on. I might need it in the future.”

Marc smiles into his skin, kissing down the length of Marco's jawline just because he can. He wants to, and Marco likes it, tilting his head a little to give in to Marc, and Marc has kind of lost interest in the movie anyway. It was fine, he just has something much more interesting sitting right beside him.

“Why would you need anything special to woo me? You can just ask me for what you want, whenever you want. I’ll give it to you.” He’s made his way back to Marco's mouth, and kisses him there again, before continuing up the other side of his face. Marco turns his head again for him, humming happily.

“Because saying things is hard. But if all I need to do is eat popcorn and you’re all over me, then great, I’ll remember that.”

Marc laughs a little, reaching Marco's neck, and beginning to kiss down it slowly, languid. He’s turned his whole body towards Marco on the sofa now, and plants a hand over the back of the cushions to steady himself, press in a little closer. “I know you can get shy. But I’m so gone for you, amor, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Nothing to be shy about when it’s me, okay?”

“It’s the most scary when it’s you,” Marco says, very softly, almost a whisper.

Marc withdraws. “Really? Was that too much — are you not comfortable with this?”

Marco shakes his head, stumbling over his words. “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I’m scared of you — you’ve never made me feel like that. It’s that I’m scared I’m not… that I don’t know… I mean, you know I’ve never seriously dated before…”

“You’re scared of the unknown?”

Marco nods, exhaling. “Not scared to be with you. Just scared to get everything right with you, to be good enough.”

“You’re always good, you’re so good, sweet boy. Never feel like you’re not, because I like you just as you are. Is there something I can do to help you feel at ease?”

“I do feel at ease, I feel so happy with you,” Marco says quietly, and leans in to kiss him, but even this is hesitant, like he’s not sure he can. Marc captures his face with one hand to hold him close, give him confidence that Marc wants this, likes this too.

“Then what is it about me that makes you shy?”

“I just…” Marco is going pinker the more they speak, voice softer, as if Marc might not take it to heart if he doesn’t say it too loud. “I like you so much. I want to make things nice for you too, I want to do things right. But I feel like I can’t when I don’t have any experience.”

"Ricitos, you’ve been so perfect. I'll tell you that every day, if you want. I love being with you because it’s you, not because I want a perfect kisser or someone who gives an amazing blowjob or whatever. When I kiss you and touch you, it’s because I like you so much. When we go further, I don’t have expectations for you, you know that, right? We don’t need to know what we’re doing the first time. Being with someone new is always like that, in a way, so it will be a new experience for me too.”

“It’s not quite the same as never having done anything sexual with anyone, ever,” Marco says, a little self-depreciatingly.

“Hey, don’t do that. Everyone moves at different paces, it’s shitty to shame that. Whenever you wanna go there, we can, and anything you don’t want to do, we don’t have to, okay? You don’t need to be worried about that with me. I want to take care of you first, make sure you’re happy and enjoying what we’re doing. That goes for anything, kissing, touching, any of it. But I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what you do like or don’t like. So that’s the only thing I have to ask of you — try to talk to me as much as you can, okay? Even if you’re shy, know that you’re perfect to me, you’re doing so great. I just want to know what will make you happier, and what you want. Okay?”

Marco's eyes shine a little as they turn on Marc, and his boyfriend leans in again, kissing Marc’s mouth with more confidence and genuine ease this time. It makes him smile, and Maco smiles in return.

“Thank you. That means a lot. I’ll try my best.”

“Anytime, handsome.” His hand is still on Marco's thigh, and he rubs it a few times soothingly, the two of them sitting closely, comfortably. “Okay, now can you tell me what’s actually going on in this movie? I’ve lost the plot.”

Their first kiss had been on their second date, after three weeks of knowing each other. They were having a quiet picnic after the Austin GP, where Marc had bought them hot dogs and they’d talked about whether or not their parents knew they were gay. Marc’s did, Marco's didn’t.

He’d learned a lot more about Marco that day. They finally surpassed flirting messages and shy glances, and while watching the children run through the fountain, he’d learned Marco was homeschooled throughout childhood so he could race but mainly so he could help his dad in his shop, that his best friends were his parents and Rubik, and that, despite appearances, he had never been on a date before.

“But do you mean like, a proper date with flowers and a restaurant and fancy clothes, or do you mean any date at all?”

Marco tilts his head to give him an amused look. “Isn’t this a date?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Are there any flowers or restaurants here?”

“Well, there are flowers over there… but ok, yeah, point taken. I just can’t believe no one has ever asked you out before. That’s crazy, actually insane.”

Marco shrugs. “Not had many opportunities to meet people before I started working. As a teenager I was too shy to even speak to people.”

“So I’m the first boy you’ve said yes to?”

Marco laughs bashfully. “Yeah, okay, I’ve been asked before. Usually by women, though. You’re the first guy I’ve met who seems so… I don’t know. You’ve got such a genuine nature. It made me want to give you a shot.”

“Why thank you,” Marc says, with a little bow.

They buy ice creams after they finish their food, and wander through the trees together. They end up going store to store after that, then to a restaurant for dinner, then the date continues into an arcade downtown. Neither one of them want to call an end to it, and the conversation flows easily.

Eventually, Marco calls ita night, because he has an early flight the following day. Marc is just glad one of them is strong enough to, and walks him to his hotel.

As they’re walking through an alley lit by neon lights, Marc slips an arm around his waist, and Marco returns with one around his shoulders.

“How am I for a good date, then? Do I get a good rating?”

“I’m not a reliable measure of that, since the only other date I’ve been on was also with you.”

“Sure, but I don’t need to know the answer on the scale of universal dates. I just need to know if it was good on the scale of Marco.”

Marco laughs. “It was really, really good. I loved it.”

Marc stops them before they exit the alley, the rush of the main street passing them unawares. “I’m really, really glad to hear that,” he says, pulling Marco a little closer to him. “Is it okay if I kiss you now?”

Marco nods, curve of his cheek lit up purple under the lights. Marc leans in and give him a soft, sweet kiss to the lips.

There’s a sparkle in Marco's eyes when Marc leans out, and they both press forward again for another kiss, just as sweet, but a little longer this time. Marco looks up and down his face, and Marc wonders if he’ll go in again.

“Thank you,” he says softly, and Marc strokes a long piece of hair behind his ear.

“No need to thank me. Was that your first kiss?”

Marco nods, and Marc finds him so sweet, he can’t help but lean in to kiss him again.

“You were perfect,” he says, planting a peck to his cheek before leading them both out to the street again, Marco's face perfectly pleased under the lights, his body warm to the touch.

Marc had booked them a table at a nice Italian restaraunt for their 100-day anniversary, and has to go to Alex for help with what to wear for it. Something nice, but not over-the-top. Something that shows he thought about this, and cherishes their anniversary, but not to outdo Marco too much if he turns up in a t-shirt and jeans. He thinks 100 days is a pretty neat milestone for them to celebrate, but they’ve been taking things slowly since the beginning, and he doesn’t want to make it too much of a thing if Marco doesn’t.

That’s all blown out of the water when Marco shows up.

Marc is waiting for him outside the restaurant, all-too pleased with his dark overshirt, white inner shirt, dark jeans combo, and he spots Marco coming from across the street. It’s like there’s a spotlight on him, even in the dim evening light, even in the crowded streets of Romagna.

Marco's dressed in a sheer, sparkly white shirt, long-sleeved, a glittery jacket over it, and white trousers. He's no stranger to more feminine clothes, Marc knew that, but before he was just some coworker in clothing from the womens isle of a department store. Now, with his dark hair neatly pulled back out of his face, he looks like Marc's beautiful, wonderful boyfriend.

“I think I made a mistake coming in all white,” he says as soon as he reaches Marc, taking his hand and giving him a kiss. “There are definitely going to be stains by the time we leave.”

“It’s worth it,” he says, cupping his hand to Marco's cheek and kissing him again, then unashamedly looking his boyfriend up and down. He’d been too polite to do so the last two times he'd seen the Italian all dressed up, but now he knows this is meant for him to look at. Marco's whole chest is visible through the sheet shirt, twinkling under the restaurant lights. “You look amazing, God. I don’t know if I’m hungry for food anymore, baby, I could eat you all up.”

Marco smiles shyly, eyes curving sweetly. “That’s too bad, because I’m starving. Come on.”

As they’re shown to their table, and he sees Marco under better light, he spots the twinkle of glitter on his eyes too. “Did you even do your makeup?” he asks, when the waiter has barely left their table. “Man, now I feel underdressed.”

“You look so good, Marc,” Marco says, half a whine. “Don’t say that.”

“Okay, I look fine I guess. You should’ve told me you were dressing nice, I would’ve done something too!”

“You look really nice already! What were you gonna do, wear a dress?”

“Yeah, point taken. But you seriously went all out. Was it all to surprise me?”

“Maybe,” Marco says, looking down at the menu with a little smile on his face. “It’s nothing too much — I already had the clothes, and I asked Domizia to help me put some makeup on. I’m glad you like it so much.”

“You look out of this world,” Marc says, and Marco laughs again at his earnestness. “And I’m not just saying that cause your outfit twinkles more than the stars. You’re so gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re ever shy about anything, looking like way you do, baby.”

Marco's laugh turns bashful, shoulders rising to his ears. “It’s not that I’m not confident in how I look, I don’t have a problem with that. I just don't know what to actually do with myself, like, ever.”

“Honestly, you could just sit there and look pretty and I’d do whatever you asked of me, gorgeous.”

The waiter reappears at their table to take their order at that exact moment, and Marc suppresses laughter as Marfo goes even pinker than before, stammering out his order. Marc hasn’t taken his eyes away from Marco long enough to check what’s available, but he takes a stab at something on the list and orders it. He’ll be happy with whatever comes.

He’s got more important things on the menu for tonight.

“To be honest…” Marco starts, pulling at his earlobe and glancing at the floor before courageously meeting Marc’s eyes. “Well, I hoped you’d be looking at me tonight.”

It’s the boldest thing he’s ever heard Marco say to him. “I’m definitely looking,” Marc promises, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Did you want my attention?”

“I always do,” Marco says, reaching out over the table, and Marc leans forward automatically to take Marco's hands. He’s got a roundabout way of working up to things, and Marc can taste the anticipation on his tongue as he waits for his boyfriend to arrive at what he wants. “But I’ve been thinking more about what you said to me a few weeks ago.”

“What was that?”

“You asked me to tell you more about what I want,” Marco says, thumb stroking over Marc's hand slowly, looking between Marc's face and their entangled fingers. “And be honest… and ask you for things.”

“I did,” he agrees, voice low. “So what is your sparkly, sheer shirt telling me? What is it you want?”

“I don’t think I should say it here, in the restaurant,” Marco says, through a breathy laugh. “But I want you to come back to my place, and stay over tonight. Would that be okay?”

Marc exhales, feels his own breath shake a little. He and Marco had been to eachothers houses a few times before but neither of them has stayed the night before.

He’s pretty sure he knows what Marco's getting at.

“Amor, that would be more than okay with me,” he says, lifting Marco's hands to his lips. The press of his lips there is a long moment where only the two of them exist, Marco's smooth skin against his mouth. He feels a little heady, knowing just how much more of his skin Marc will get to explore with his mouth tonight.

They slide back into their seats as the waiter arrives back with their drinks, Marc flashing him a smile even though he barely sees the guy. His whole body feels wired up and alert, like he’s just had something injected into his veins. Now that Marco's made the suggestion, all he can think about is taking that sheer shirt off and getting his hands on his boyfriend — but he’s a civilised man. He can wait, and have their nice anniversary dinner first.

Marc manages to tame the feral animal inside him enough that he can relax back into their intimate evening out together, the two of them buzzed off just a little bit of alcohol, and a lot of the high of being in love. God, he is so gone for Marco.

He can tell Marco is wired up all evening, too, and as soon as they get up to leave the restaurant together, he takes Marco's hand and pulls him close. They walk through the streets swinging their connected hands, laughing and talking about anything and everything they'd been ip to. Marco's laugh makes his heart sing, and he can’t wait to get back to the apartment and kiss him silly.

“Am I still staying the night?” he asks when they’re stood in Marco's apartment block elevator, still holding his boyfriend’s hand. “Don’t feel like you have to say yes if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I can tell how excited you are to stay,” Marco says. The elevator doors slide open, and he leads the way across the hall.

“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna be upset if you change your mind,” Marc says, putting an arm around Marco's waist as he keys in his apartment code.

“I’m excited too,” Marco admits, pushing the door open, and Marc smiles as Marco turns in his entrance way to face Marc, walking backwards into the apartment to keep their hands interlinked.

“God, I’m so ready,” he says, coming in to kiss Marco on the mouth. “Just to be clear, we’re talking about sex, right?”

“We are talking about sex,” Marco confirms, and Marc shifts his hand back to Marco’s waist, to pull him in close and kiss him deeply, slowly.

He hears Marco inhale as he does, tilting his head into Marc’s kiss, free hand sliding up to hold onto his shoulder. Marc’s hand regrips Marco’s waist until his shirt hitches up, and Marc has his hand on hot, bare skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs against Marco's mouth, and gently guides him backwards towards his bedroom.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Marco says, through a breathy laugh, and Marc kisses him again.

“I just wanted to remind you. But also, you’re not going to go down in my estimations if you want to stop at any point…”

“I know, I get it, it’s okay. I’ll tell you. But right now, I really want you, amore.”

“Yeah? How do you want me?”

Marco comes in to kiss under his jaw, and Marc sighs in satisfaction at the touch of his soft lips against Marc’s skin. “I want you to be in charge,” he says, a whisper right by Marc’s ear, like he was too shy to say it aloud. Cute.

“Yeah? You want me to decide everything?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem, ricitos. I’ll take good care of you, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing. Take your jacket off for me, and your shirt.”

Marco complies readily, dropping the jacket on the floor and lifting his shirt over his head.

Marc groans, admiring Marco's figure, reaching out to run his hands up his sides. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve been working out more than usual…” he says, as if embarrassed by the fact that he looks sculpted by a God.

“It’s paying off,” Marc reassures him. “Take your pants off and get on the bed, okay?”

Marco unzips his jeans as Marc pulls off his top in one movement, following Marco over to the bed, the two of them never far apart as Marco sits back, looking Marc up and down with round eyes.

“Amore,” he says, catching Marc's attention as he shoves down his own jeans.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

Marco pulls himself back onto his bed, and Marc mounts the bed on his knees, crawling over after him until they come to a comfortable stop in the middle of the bed, Marco sitting up, Marc leaning forward. “I love you.”

Marc hums, and leans forward to kiss him again. “I love you too. Lie down, baby.”

Marco's elbows slowly give way until he’s on his back, and Marc leans over to kiss his collarbones, taking Marco's thighs in his hands to reposition him, so he can plant himself between Marco's legs. He seems surprised by it, making a little noise that makes Marc want to bite down and mark his skin. Instead, he continues kissing downwards, along the divot in his chest, over every mole littering his chest, leading towards his toned stomach. Every inhale throws Marco's hard work into relief, muscles standing out in the lamplight of the bedroom, and something in him loves that Marco is strong but wants Marc to take charge, make him his.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs. “Turn over, let me see all of you.”

Marco goes obediently, and Marc runs his hands over his bare back, feeling every notch of his spine and beginning to kiss along that too. His hands wander to Marco's front as he does, and find his ribcage, pressing his fingers into the divots like he wants to leave his fingerprints all over him, be found at the scene of the crime, clearly flag the signs that he is mine.

“I’m going to take your boxers off, okay?”

“Mhh-hmm,” Marco hums.

Marc leans forward, blowing softly into Marco's ear. Marco shudders with a little whine.

“What was that for?”

“You need to use your words, baby.”

Marco shivers a little at his low tone, and Marc smiles, pressing his mouth to Marco's bare shoulder.

“Yes, please, I want you to.”

“Good boy,” Marc says, kissing the nape of his neck before sliding his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling the boxers all the way off and throwing them to the floor.

He groans as he looks over every inch of Marco, in the position they’re in, Marco slowly pushing to his knees, pink flushed across his cheeks and chest. Marc places a hand reverently on his ass, pushing slightly to see his hole a little better. Marc’s own boxers are becoming uselessly damp and uncomfortable.

“Can I ask you something?” Marc says as he pulls his boxers off, flinging them away without a second thought.

“Yeah?”

“Did you wax for this?”

Marco groans and hides his face in the covers, and Marc gets both hands on his ass, pulling the cheeks apart to breathe over his hole. There’s not a hair on him.

“I get waxed sometimes, but…”

“You timed it, right?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

Marx laughs, and leans in to lick a stripe across Marco's asshole, and he shudders and whines in surprise.

“For the record, I’m happy however you come, okay? You don’t need to do all this for me.”

Marco raises his head, looking back at Marc. “Don’t you like it?”

“My baby, I don’t think I could ever dislike how you look,” Marc says, reaching around to grasp Marco's length in hand, stroking him slowly, spreading his leaking precome up and down his shaft. “You’re perfect, you’re so good. I love it, I just want you not to feel pressured to do anything special for me, okay? Next question is, do you have any lube? Condoms?”

“In there,” Marco gestures, and exhales when Marc releases him to reach over to the bedside table, opening the second drawer and grabbing the bottle. “Do we need… condoms…?”

Marc smiles slyly down at Marco, who doesn’t look back at him. “You don’t want one? I’m clean, I just got checked before we started dating.”

“I’m a virgin… and I got checked anyway, at my last health checkup. I don’t want a condom.”

Marc leans in to kiss him, and Marco tilts his head to meet it. “Okay. Whatever you want, baby.”

“Do you want me on my front like this?”

“You look like a picture right now, amor, unless you don’t like it.”

“I like it,” Marco says shyly, face half hidden behind his arm. “It’s just a bit embarrassing.”

“In a good way?” he asks, uncapping the bottle and getting back into position behind him, running his hands up Marco's thighs. “In the making you more horny way?”

“Yeah,” Marco admits, and Marc grins, and begins pouring lube directly onto his hole before putting some on his fingers too. Marco gasps at the cold contact, and pushes forwards a little as if the move away from it, and Marc steadies him with a hand on his hip.

“You’ve done this much before, right? Played with yourself?”

“Yes,” Marco says, a little whine. “But it’s different with someone else.”

“It is,” Marc agrees, pushing the lube in with his index finger, immediately greedy at the feel of Marco's heat, eager to get himself properly inside his boyfriend. “God, you’re doing amazing, darling, you’re so good for me. You’re gonna feel so good, I promise.”

“Put more in, please,” Marco groans into the sheets, and Marc complies without thinking twice, pushing a second finger inside him.

“You excited too? You want me inside you?”

Marco whines again, almost distressed, and Marc sees the way he’s got the sheets tightly in his fists, like even this is overwhelming for him. “Yes, yes I want you, please.”

“You’re still okay, baby? Want me to keep going?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop now, amore…”

“I won’t, baby, just checking.” Marc kisses the small of his back as he pushes in a third finger, and Marco keens, back arching in response. Marc might drool the longer he has to watch this, dick throbbing, and not be inside the most gorgeous boy he’s ever seen. The slide is smooth now, even with three fingers, though Marco's hole keeps tightening around his fingers sporadically.

“Will you please—” Marco says, cutting himself off with a frustrated noise.

“What is it?” Marc asks, withdrawing his fingers and putting his hands to Marco's waist again. He pushes onto his knees and grips himself, to better align with Marco's hole. “What do you want, baby? Come on, tell me.”

“I want you, please. Please, inside me, Marc.”

He places the tip to Marco's rim, rubbing circles into his waist gently. “I want to, baby, but you’re going to have to ease up for me first. Can you do that? Take a breath in, then exhale.” He moves his hand to gently rub Marco's side, help him relax. "That’s it."

After watching him breathe in and out a few times, gently stroking and praising him, he slides inside with a low groan. Marco goes quiet too, panting as Marc bottoms out inside him.

“That okay?” he asks, though he’s starting to lose his train of thought, obsessed with the feeling, the encompassing heat of being inside Marco. “God, you feel amazing, so good. You’re so good for me.”

Marco takes a few seconds to breathe. “You too. You — it’s a lot, but — want more. I want you, please.”

“Yeah?” he kisses his back, over his shoulderblade, and shallowly, slowly pulls out, and pushes back in again. The sound is obscene, and the feeling is divine, and he kind of wants to be here forever. “You want me?”

“Please, I want you,” Marco says, and Marc finally releases him to place a hand over his on the bedsheets, their fingers entwining on the bed.

“I got you,” he says, and begins to thrust into him, enjoying each snap of his hips deep inside his boyfriend, every stroke against his walls, the feel of skin against skin and Marco whimpering under him.

He cries out at one particularly hard thrust, and that motivates Marc to go harder, despite his aching thighs and the sweat collecting between their bodies. He wants Marco to feel good, as much as his own pleasure — he does his best to bring a hand around and begin to jerk Marco off whilst maintaining his balance. He’s getting close embarrassingly quickly, though he has a suspicion Marco is nearly there too.

“Baby, I want to come in you. I’m gonna…”

“Please, yes please,” Marco says and it only takes a few more thrusts for Marc to shudder into an orgasm, groaning and biting into Marco's back lightly. Marco comes only seconds later into Marc’s hand, whimpering like a puppy, and Marc kisses his back once more, waiting for them both to catch their breaths before sliding out of him. He rolls Marco over to see his face, smiling widely, feeling so blissed out and tingly.

That smile is wiped away when he spots the tear tracks on Marco's face. “Oh God, baby, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. It’s — it’s because I liked it so much. Promise, it was so good. Really.” Marco reaches up to pull Marc into his side, and Marc goes without complaint, burying his face into Marco's neck.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m so sure. You were amazing. You made me feel so good. Did I… was I okay?”

Marc pushes himself up to press a kiss to Marco's cheek, running a hand up and down his chest reassuringly. “You were so perfect. You’re so gorgeous, and you did so well. So good for me, Marco.”

Marc kisses him for a long moment, and when he pulls back, Marco's smile is so bright and wide that he knows nothing is wrong. They really are good tears. He hadn’t realised he’d been feeling so pressured to do well until right now — it was different, being the one with the upper hand. The last person he had dated seriously like this had been Valentino and to say he wasn't gentle when he took Marc's virginity was an understatement. Marc was convinced sex was only about the dominant ones pleasure, only about letting them cum then leave you naked and afraid. Marc never wanted Marco to feel as unwanted as he had that night.

He smiles too, Marco wrapping his arms around him, and Marc does the same. “Thank you, Marc.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Sex takes two — you did so good, really.”

“Really?”

Marc kisses him again. “You were so perfect, I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I feel so safe 'nd good, with you. You’re so good to me.” He hums, eyes falling closed

“You deserve it, angel. Never think otherwise.”

He runs a hand up his side to hold him close. Marco curls into him, and the two of them lie there, breathing slowing, naked and safe, comfortably pressed together.

#aka marc taking marco's virginity #and being a better boyfriend than vale was #kats motogp blurbs!#motogp #marcmarc #bezquez #marco bezzecchi #marc marquez #mb72 #mm93 #motogp rpf #rpf #sports rpf #ao3 #fanfic #smut #fluff #uh #yeah

44 notes · View notes

ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 9 months ago

Text

Unpredictable, Part 10-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: It's been a long time coming but it's here. The next part will be the finale. Thank you all so much for your support. I love reading all your replies and messages :)

Content warnings: Swearing and some violence

Word count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist

Many experts are concerned with the pervasiveness of serial killers in a supe society. Some people propose intense ideas, like using AI or supes with predictive abilities to kill potential serial killers beforehand. Others…

I paused my fingertips over the keyboard and sighed. “It’s okay, just breathe and think of the words. Dr. Melrose is one of the nicer professors, anyway.”

Then, my fingertips started moving again.

Others think this is too extreme and argue that serial killers have a right to live as much as anyone else. Which is the dumbest idea on planet earth.

Nope, can’t submit that.

I punched my thumb on the backspace button and stared at my two semi-decent sentences. Then, I glanced down at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen and sighed.

The essay had a minimum fifteen-page requirement and it took me an hour to come up with two sentences.

I groaned and leaned back against the swivel chair and stared up at the stark white ceiling. Last year’s campus library renovation included an impressive update of the study rooms, including making them sound-proof, power-proof, and equipped with the most state-of-the-art technology.

My textbooks and notebooks were sprawled around the table, each with color-coded highlights and meticulous notes that did nothing but make my head spin. Usually, I spent most of my writing time trimming down my page length, especially when it came to ethical issues around crimefighting. But my brain couldn’t focus despite the distraction-free environment.

No matter what I did, I kept picturing the looks on Jordan and Marie’s faces when I told them I couldn’t go to the town hall. They both looked like I had taken away a large chunk of their hope.

But I couldn’t have been that helpful anyway, I thought harshly.

Sure, I helped them gather information and connected some dots but anyone could have done that.

I clapped. “Y/N, you have to stop thinking about them and the town hall. You need to finish this paper.”

Just when I grazed my keyboard, the study room door swung open. I jumped and turned to ask the person to leave, but stopped when I saw Coco standing in the doorway. In her cropped black Tommy Hilfiger blazer and matching cigarette pants, she looked like a debate moderator. Her hair fell in perfect curls and her eyes slightly narrowed at me.

“Hey, you could have knocked,” I said as light-heartedly as I could.

Coco let the door close softly behind her before sauntering over to me. “My bad, I was in a hurry. I thought I’d find you here since you weren’t at the house.”

Coco’s tone was much shorter than usual and she kept her gaze on me. My stomach churned and I straightened up.

“Coco, it was a directive from Sydney, not me,” I explained.

Coco sighed. “I don’t know why I thought I could surprise you when you know everything.”

“Not everything.”

“Anyway, what the hell is that directive about? How does she want to ‘pursue our ambitions’ but not voice our opinions?” Coco scoffed. “I knew her whole I-care-about-all-women schtick was bullshit.”

“Did you talk to her about it?” The look Coco gave me made me shrink back into my chair.

“Why do you let her walk all over you? She made you do her dirty work.”

“As a secretary, I do have to send out communications about a variety of things; it’s part of my role. Besides, it wasn’t my decision.”

“Don’t hide behind your role, Y/N. You’ll do anything to stay good with them, even if it means missing out on a historical moment.”

I hesitated. This would not be the last time that two polar opposite politicians would face off on core issues, but it would be the first time that the main issue was supes.

“I get that you care about this since it’s your major and everything but, I have to set a good example for the other girls and the initiates.”

Coco rolled her eyes. “Do you know what the other girls and initiates are doing? They’re arguing with Sydney right now and some are trying to figure out if a shapeshifter can somehow change their appearances. Everyone wants to be a part of it; Sydney’s just scared of fallout and I know that you know that.”

While I did have many ideas about why Sydney made the decision she did, it didn’t matter. I tried to push back but it failed and I had to deal with the consequences.

“I know she’s trying to protect Si Chi’s legacy and reputation and even if I don’t agree with it, I don’t have a choice.”

“Damn it, Y/N, you always have a choice! You always choose to follow the rules but guess what? Rule followers get forgotten in history; it’s the people who stir up shit that gets remembered.”

I glanced at my laptop. “Not always.”

“Well, most of the time but that’s not the point.” Coco pulled the chair from the other side of the table around and sat next to me. “You could do some real shit in the real world if you weren’t so caught up in your own head.”

Her words made me pause. This wasn’t the first time that Coco tried to push me to “think bigger” and it was usually flattering. This time, I felt myself get more and more nauseous.

I sipped some water. “I don’t think you always have to rebel to create change.”

“There’s a time for everything.” Coco leaned back in her chair and glanced at her phone. “I have to start walking to the union before everything gets too crazy. I hope you’ll have my back at the house.”

She didn’t wait for a reply and slipped out of the room almost as quietly as she entered. Immediately, I slumped in my chair and pouted.

Not everyone could be like Coco and take risks like that. In her situation, rankings didn’t matter, she just had to graduate and network like crazy. It was different for me and anyone else who was trying to at least get a city contract; rebellion did not look good on a resume.

Coco isn’t the only one risking their reputation, my brain reminded me.

I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face. Even though Jordan was always hellbent on climbing to number one, they wanted to expose everything happening at GOD U. According to Cate, Jordan had a whole meltdown when Andre and Marie’s rankings forced them to number five. Despite all that, they wanted to do the right thing.

And then there was Marie. She’d unexpectedly received everything any GOD U student could want on a silver platter: a high ranking, backing from Vought, and promotions on social and regular media. But she never wavered when it came to the Woods.

And it’s not like I didn’t want to go to the town hall, I couldn’t. There would be cameras everywhere and the news would get back to Sydney faster than A-Train. Her icy glare sent a chill down my spine at the thought.

I shook my head.

I can’t focus on any of that, I had to focus on this essay.

Finally, I started writing:

Other people suggest that such practices are much too inhumane and that serial killers must experience early interventions as soon as possible. However, in such a situation, it is near-impossible to determine the best practices much less who would deliver them.

I smiled to myself as I kept writing and breathed a sigh of relief once I finished my thesis statement.

“Great, now all I have to do is----”

“Y/N, what the hell!” Emma demanded.

I jumped and turned to the study room door. Emma’s face was beet-red and she had detergent stains all over her sweatpants. The door slammed behind her as she stormed over to me.

“What?” I asked.

Emma shook her head. “You know what. I just got off a video call with Marie; what the hell happened?”

My stomach dropped and I almost let my head plant on the desk.

At this point, it was like the two of them were haunting me. After a couple of deep breaths, I explained Sydney’s order and how I had to break the news to Marie and Jordan. As I spoke, Emma’s expression became more solemn.

“Why would you do that? Things were going so well,” Emma mused.

“I have to keep my position in Si Chi, Emma, and I can’t do anything that messes with it.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I hesitated, wondering if it was a little bit of both. Emma plopped down in the chair and dropped her bag on the ground.

“I know that you’re a good-two-shoes but you’re not that way all the time. I mean, you do regularly sneak off campus with the others,” Emma pointed out.

“Not so loud. You never know who could be listening,” I insisted.

“Anyway, I get that your parents really screwed you up but, when do you get to live your life?”

The last part sounded like something a really good therapist would say. Even if those words did come from a therapist, I still wouldn’t know how to answer. Every move I made since middle school was to get me to be a successful (married/engaged) supe and that was always enough for me. Mom and Dad both seemed please with each stride I made towards that goal, but it was always limited and I never stopped to think about what I wanted.

All I knew was that I was dying to know why Shetty wanted Cate and me to be friends, how long the Woods existed, and why she created the virus. I also knew that the thought of Jordan or Marie getting hurt because of all this made my chest ache.

I fidgeted with my hands. “I am living my life.”

“Are you? Do you really want to be in the library while everyone’s at the town hall? Do you really want to give up on looking into all of this?”

I snapped my eyes up at Emma. “Of course, I want to go but I also have to play it smart. Why can’t anyone understand that?” I sighed. “I just got here, Emma, and I don’t want to lose it, I can’t lose it.”

Emma frowned. “You didn’t try to look into the future about this.”

She was confident and her gaze never left mine. I wanted to push back but, there was no point. Out of everyone, Emma knew me best and there was no point in hiding. So, I explained everything about my power loss to her. The words felt like I was digging my nails into an open wound and I could feel my throat constricting towards the end.

“Shit,” she muttered.

I nodded. “I really can’t do anything out of line now; I have no leverage for Si Chi and if they found out my powers are gone, they’d kick me out immediately. Plus, I’ll get expelled, and then what? Work for my mom or dad?”

“I’m really sorry about your powers, Y/N, but you don’t know that they’re gone for good. Plus, there are plenty of other ways you can be successful here and once you graduate. You could write a tell-all book, work in research, or model like I’ve been telling you to do forever!”

I snorted at her words, which made Emma burst out laughing. I don’t know how long we laughed for, but it felt good. However, when it stopped, a realization dawned on me.

“I don’t know, Emma, things don’t tend to work out for me if I don’t follow a plan,” I expressed.

Emma wiped some tears from her eyes. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my powers going away because Cate’s brainwashed or getting caught up in a conspiracy that could get us all killed or maybe having your new boyfriend attack me.”

Emma flushed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “But that all happened because I was going off the plan. I was supposed to focus and crack the Top Fifteen this year.”

“But Jordan and Marie weren’t in your plan, and they were pretty good.”

I sighed and rested my head on the desk. At first, I thought our conversation was going so well but then Emma had to bring them up.

“And it’s over before anything really even started.” I propped my chin up on my hands. “But that’s probably a good thing since I need to stay on track. I’ve only gone up to Sixteen.”

Emma pursed her lips and straightened up. Wordlessly, she stood and slowly made her way to the other side of the table. She paced back and forth for a second before slamming her hands down on the desk.

“No, you don’t get to talk like that. In our fifteen years of friendship, I have never seen you look at or act the way you do with Marie and Jordan. You look so happy, and you deserve to be happy, I don’t care what anyone else says and you need to start believing that.”

For a second, I thought my vision blurred but it was the tears welling up in my eyes. I willed them to stay away for a second.

“But what about Si Chi?” I wondered.

Emma groaned. “If they’re going to kick you out because you went to the town hall to be with your girlfriend and partner, then they’re idiots.” Emma stood. “But you have to decide which is more important.”

The issue was that the thought of losing either of them made me nearly hyperventilate. Si Chi was a beacon of social acceptance, but Marie and Jordan made me feel accepted. No matter how uncomfortable I felt sobbing in front of them or not wanting either of them to see me in bad lighting or makeup-less, they made me comfortable.

“They don’t want me back. They’re both…unstoppable and I’ve proven to be the exact opposite.”

“Come on, Y/N, stop with the self-doubt. I can promise you, Marie and Jordan want to be with you too, they just don’t know how to reach out.” She smirked. “You should have heard Jordan ranting about how they’d knock Sydney out of her power trip; Marie had to cut the call short to calm them down.”

I laughed a little at that. “Jordan always said that Sydney was the most mediocre telekinetic on campus.”

“But the point is they both still care a lot about you. They’re obviously hurt but you’re not totally unforgivable.”

“Thanks, Emma.”

“And if they did break up with, you always have me whenever I’m not with Sam.”

“Gee, thanks. Where is he, anyway?” “Locked away in my dorm. Could you imagine him out there in the craziness?”

“Yes.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but got cut off by her phone alarm going off. “I have to go switch out the laundry. I hope one cycle is enough to get blood out.”

When she left, I mulled over everything we talked about. Were she and Coco on the same wavelength or something? In both conversations, I could have started screaming at either of them but buried deep down, I knew that they both had good points.

Brink was always saying how we have to take calculated risks as heroes and it was important to minimize the damage. Even though he wasn’t my favorite professor, he did have some good points.

Maybe there was a way to minimize the damage with Si Chi and my relationship.

The thought made my hands shake as I packed up my things.

Fifteen minutes later, I was desperately trying to stop my shoulders from hiking up any further to my ears as I walked to the union. The protestors’ shouts all across the green were deafening and did nothing for my pounding head and heart. Throughout the crowd, several people were filming for social media and I did my best to avoid them.

After a few minutes, I spotted Jordan and Marie standing a couple of yards away from a side entrance that was guarded by two burly men. My heart skipped a beat as I watched their focused eyes on each other as they spoke.

Here goes nothing.

I slowly sauntered up to them, my mind racing with something, anything decent to say.

“…well, we have to figure out a way in,” Jordan muttered.

“Hi,” I chirped.

When they both faced me, I had to force myself not to try to run. Marie’s eyebrows raised and Jordan slightly narrowed her eyes at me.

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asked.

I swallowed. “I’ve had a couple of pretty intense conversations that helped me realize that you were both right: the Woods is bigger than GOD U and I should help expose it. I’m sorry about earlier, I was scared and I still am but, I want to help in any way that I can.”

The next couple of seconds felt like a million years. Finally, Marie smiled and relaxed.

“Does this mean that you don’t care about Si Chi anymore?” she asked.

“No, I’m petrified of all the cameras but I’m trying really hard not to think about it,” I admitted.

“Well, it’s a good first step. We’d love your help,” Marie declared.

Jordan paused before sighing. “Just don’t run off again.”

I agreed. “So, you’re looking for a way in?”

Marie nodded. “But we can’t get past those two without causing a scene.”

If I had my powers, solving that would have been easy but I was on my own. I glanced at the two burly guards and cocked my head.

“Did you try flirting?” I asked.

“No, and don’t even think about it,” Jordan threatened.

I turned to her. “You’re jealous about a suggestion?”

Jordan shrugged and Marie chuckled.

“Fine, that’s off the table.”

“Do you know a teleporter?” Marie asked.

“Well, there’s Gia Sharpe from Beta Ro but she’s probably inside already,” I offered.

Jordan started rolling her eyes but paused and grinned when she saw something. “That might not be necessary.”

Marie and I followed her gaze and I gasped when it landed on Justine and Renee. The two were standing on a nearby green and Justine was trying to direct Renee to hold the camera to really capture her dismayed expression. I slid behind Marie and put my head down.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.

I huffed. “It’s Justine.”

“Do you two have issues besides what she did to Emma?” Jordan asked.

“Sort of. She and her friend tried to rush Si Chi and after everything with Emma, I couldn’t let that happen,” I explained.

“And?” Marie prompted.

“And, I explained my concerns to the other sorority presidents, including Sydney and none of them wanted to promote her behavior.”

Marie smirked and Jordan’s grin deepened.

“You blackballed that bitch from every sorority?” Jordan teased.

“No, I just gave the other presidents information I thought they could use,” I defended.

“That’s pretty badass, Y/N,” Marie stated.

I smiled as my stomach flipped. “Anyway, I know that she doesn’t know that I did it but I have a feeling that she would take any opportunity to make me look bad.”

Jordan glanced at me for a second before turning her gaze back on Justine. Jordan’s jaw clenched and there was a new glint in their eyes that only appeared right before a fight. As she started approaching them, I moved to stand next to Marie.

“What are you doing?” Marie whispered.

“Causing a distraction,” Jordan called over her shoulder.

I gulped and stared as Jordan called Justine before delivering a right hook to her jaw. Justine stumbled for a second before straightening up, her jaw askew. She snapped it back into place with a flick of her hand and hissed something back at Jordan. Seconds later, Jordan was beaming in the middle of a full-on brawl.

“Does Jordan always get like this when they fight?” Marie asked.

“Yes. One time, they almost got us kicked out of a club because they sent a group of guys to the hospital.”

“Almost?”

“Cate.”

“Oh.”

I smiled as Jordan dodged one frat boy’s sloppy left side kick only to spin him to collide with another frat boy that was approaching her from behind. “They look really good when they fight, though.”

Suddenly, the guards rushed past us, and Marie grabbed my arm.

“Let’s go before you start drooling.”

Victoria’s makeshift green room was immaculate and complete with various notes for the town hall and water bottles and snacks. She also looked immaculate in her navy-blue suit and perfectly coiffed dark hair. Her eyes were wide, eerily wide, and it felt like she saw everything. Those eyes watched Marie with intensity as she explained everything with the Woods and handed over the drive.

Victoria rubbed her thumb over the device and pursed her lips. “What you just expressed to me is a serious matter. Have you told anyone else?”

“We don’t trust anyone else,” Marie answered.

“Understandable.” Victoria’s slow head nod made my blood boil and I didn’t know why. “Of course, I will get this into the right hands as soon as possible.”

“And we won’t get in trouble?” I asked.

Victoria faced me. “Of course not. If anything, you and your friends should be heralded as heroes. However, I understand your concerns and appreciate your courage in coming to me.”

I nodded stiffly. “Thank you for your time. You probably have plenty of other last-minute town hall things to do.”

“Yeah, thanks for listening,” Marie agreed as she stood.

“I do but, I also wanted to speak with Marie for a moment, alone.”

Her words made my heart rate pick up and I could hear several alarms going off in my head. Something was off with Victoria but I didn’t know what and I couldn’t just drag Marie out of there with no explanation.

I turned back to Marie, and she nodded. Slowly, I stood and one of Victoria’s assistants guided me out of the room. I couldn’t stop myself from pacing up and down the hallway. There was no telling what they were talking about, and I hated not knowing.

If only---

No, that won’t be helpful. I just had to be patient and wait for her.

But patience was hard when my gut felt so uneasy like it was on a rocking boat. I’d never met Victoria until then and I knew Coco thought she was an acceptable candidate. So, I had no cause to feel the way that I was feeling.

Maybe it was paranoia or stress; both were known to make people perceive things differently.

But my intuition was never wrong.

Finally, Marie walked out of the green room, her eyes wide but she seemed okay.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

As soon as we were out of earshot, Marie started rambling but I got the gist: Victoria was a supe with the exact same powers as Marie, she and Marie were both in the same facility as kids, and Victoria was Marie’s benefactor.

“She even told me about how she can see people’s internal organs and that it happens when you focus enough,” Marie gushed.

“That’s cool,” I mused.

The sunlight was refreshing when we got outside but it didn’t distract from the rowdy protests in front of the union. Each “Supe Lives Matter” sign made me cringe but both sides were extremely passionate. It was hard to understand why people loathed finding a middle ground so much.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.

“Nothing, I’m glad that we handed over the information and she was receptive,” I stated.

Marie frowned. “You’re holding back.”

The last thing I wanted to do was start a fight and I could already feel the roots of tension appearing.

“I just…I don’t have a good feeling about Victoria,” I confessed.

Marie paused in her steps and I hesitated before facing her. “What do you mean? She was our best option and she’s the one who got me in here, she can’t be that bad.”

“I know and I’m not saying she is, I just feel like something’s off.”

“Don’t start that self-sabotaging bullshit,” Marie warned.

“I’m not. You and Jordan want me to be honest and that’s what I’m trying to do. I can’t ignore my gut, Marie.”

Marie opened and closed her mouth several times. The furrow between her eyebrows was deeper than usual and I wished that I knew the best thing to say. It was difficult to tell my girlfriend that I was happy that she knew who her benefactor was but that I was also suspicious of said benefactor.

“Let’s go find Jordan,” Marie muttered.

I quietly agreed and followed Marie to the protest area since that’s where most people were. Even though I saw a couple of Greek Life people I knew, I couldn’t find Jordan.

It’s hard to say what exactly started it but in an instant, I was caught up in a sea of protestors pushing and shoving each other. Then, the shoves turned into punches and kicks. I saw several teeth get punched out of heads and people resetting their broken noses before going back in for more. All I could do was my best to dodge all the mayhem and in it, my stomach sunk when I realized that I’d lost Marie.

“Marie? Marie!” I called.

I thought I was being loud but I quickly got drowned out by the yells and grunts of the protestors. A burly jock lunged for me but I grabbed the back of his collar used the momentum to send him flying into the people behind me. I kept trying to call for Marie but got distracted by all the jostling.

Breathe, just breathe, Y/N, I thought.

Then, someone grabbed the back of my right arm and yanked me through the crowd. I yelped at the strength but couldn’t fight back as I was finally pulled to a fairly clear sidewalk. The same someone grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face them and I sighed when I made eye contact with Marie.

“Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?” Her eyes frantically searched my face and she felt all over me for any bruises. “You have some blood on your dress.”

I gasped. “Is it mine?”

Marie shook her head and hugged me.

“There you two are, we’ve gotta get out of here!” Jordan rushed as he approached us.

Marie and I pulled away and trailed after Jordan. After a few minutes, we stopped at a clear green and I slumped against a tree.

“You didn’t get in trouble for the fight?” Marie asked.

“They didn’t catch me,” he said with a wide smirk. “How did things with Neuman go?”

“Good, she actually listened to us and said she was going to hand over everything to the proper channels.” Jordan nodded. “Did she say what would happen to Shetty?”

“She wasn’t sure but probably firing,” Marie reported before glancing at me.

I huffed and pushed myself to lean straighter against the tree.

“How long will it take?” Jordan asked.

“She didn’t say,” I answered.

“But, she’ll do it; she actually wants to help, Jordan,” Marie insisted.

Then, Jordan looked at me and I glanced down at my shoes.

“What’s going on with you two?” he asked.

“Y/N’s suspicious of Victoria even though she’s willing to help us,” Marie said.

“I just have a bad feeling and I was trying to be honest,” I defended. “Plus, Jordan brought up a good question. She never gave us a timeline or the names of those she would be speaking with. There are kids still down there.”

“I’m sure Victoria will be as quick as possible. If she was willing to help me, she must be willing to help others.”

“Wait, what?” Jordan asked.

“Victoria’s my donor,” Marie explained.

“That’s amazing.” Jordan paused and looked at me. “I’m not gonna pick sides or anything but, you both have good points. Neuman is our best option to expose the Woods and have people listen. Y/N has sensitive intuition, and she might be picking up on something. But, no one should be fighting right now, especially since we just made up.”

“I didn’t mean to start a fight,” I pleaded.

“It’s not a fight, it’s a disagreement and I’m okay with dropping it for now if you are,” Marie offered.

I nodded.

“Good.” Jordan stepped closer to me and frowned. “You got caught up in the brawl.”

“I don’t think it was long, though, and I’m not hurt. Marie found me but I was able to evade several people; I even threw a guy further into the crowd.”

Jordan smiled. “That’s my freshie.”

I didn’t have long to bask in the praise since my vision was overrun with the clearest image I’d had in a long time. Cate was standing in Shetty’s pristine living room and the older woman was cowering against the wall, eyes blown wide with fear and shaking her head.

“Cate, please, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this,” Shetty’s voice echoed.

“Yes, I do, you gave me no other choice.” Cate’s voice was hollow and her eyes were bloodshot. Then, my gaze fell down to her hands and in one, she held a sizable butcher knife.

When I blinked, Jordan, Marie, Emma, and Sam were looking back at me. I flinched a little.

“Do you zone out a lot?” Sam asked.

“No, Y/N just had a vision,” Emma replied with a grin.

I slightly nodded and pushed myself off the tree. “We need to get to Cate, now.”

Shetty’s house was as pristine as any college dean’s would be: the houseplants throughout the house accentuated the ivory and pastel décor and the scent of chamomile filled the house. The space in itself oozed serenity but I felt my skin buzzing as I traipsed through the house with my friends.

Just like in my vision, Cate was standing in the living room, her back facing us. Across the room, Shetty cowered against the wall and kept trying to crawl to no avail.

“Cate, what’s going on?” Jordan asked.

When she turned to us, everyone else gasped except me. Cate’s pupils were dilated, and her eyes were redder than I’d ever seen them. Her arms rested at her sides and the butcher knife glinted in one of her ungloved hands. Cate’s loose posture would have been more concerning if I hadn’t seen what I saw.

“You were fast,” Cate commented.

“We were on our way when you called me,” Marie shared.

“I caught a glimpse of what was going on and thought we should all talk,” I added.

Cate smiled and walked over to me. “Your powers are back, that’s amazing.” She went to grab both of my hands, but I flinched.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Y/N, please, help me,” Shetty pleaded.

Cate whirled towards her. “Shut up! Only speak when I tell you.”

Shetty immediately closed her mouth but nothing Cate said wiped the terrified expression off the dean’s face.

“Cate, I think you pushed too much. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us what’s going on?” Marie offered.

“Also, where’s Andre?” Jordan asked.

“He had to go into the city and I feel perfectly fine. I realized that it wasn’t my powers that were making me sick, it was the prescription Shetty gave me,” Cate stated.

“What?” Emma asked.

If the prescription Cate took for her headaches somehow dulled her powers, then that meant…

“She gave you suppressants,” I concluded.

Cate nodded. “Exactly.” She turned away and started walking towards Shetty. “When Indira came home, I got her to admit to everything she’s been doing. Plus, the clips I saw from the town hall inspired me. We’ve been letting non-supes control us for far too long. They’re just scared of us because they know we should be the ones running things.”

While Cate was partly right about some non-supes being scared of supes, that didn’t mean the answer was to subjugate all of them. The situation was worse than my vision led me to believe and I wracked my brain for the best words.

“Cate, you don’t have to do this. We gave over all the information to Neuman and she’ll get it out soon,” Marie offered.

“Yeah, all of this will be exposed and Shetty and everyone else involved will face the repercussions that they should,” Jordan added.

Cate seemed unimpressed as she glanced at the knife in her hand. “That’s too good for Indira.” She faced the woman. “You brainwashed me and made me believe I was helping Luke when I was part of the reason he died. I should have reported you as soon as I got suspicious.”

Shetty shrunk away from her as much as possible and made some sort of noise behind her closed lips.

“Cate, that’s enough,” I tried.

The blonde turned to me. “Don’t you want to know why she wanted us to stay so close? Just ask and I’ll make her say.”

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Emma voiced.

As I stared at the petrified dean, my curiosity didn’t matter. What did matter was that Cate was unhinged and I had to talk her down. She didn’t have her gloves on, which meant that she could peek into any of our heads at will. The best solution was to keep my head as clear as possible.

I took a deep breath and did my best to sweep away any annoying thoughts.

“I appreciate the thought but it’s okay. I don’t care about that anymore; I care about you.” I approached Cate like a zookeeper would approach a tiger. Her eyes never left mine and I forced myself to relax as I grabbed her free hand. “I’m still hurt by what you did but that doesn’t mean I hate you; none of us hate you. You’re one of my best friends and I know you have good intentions and Shetty took advantage of that.”

Cate nodded and breathed. “She did.”

“Yeah. So, why don’t we get out of here and let the police or whoever’s in charge of taking down people like her do their jobs? We can go get milkshakes at Vought-a-Burger if you want.”

Cate paused for a moment and mulled over my words. My heart rate felt like it raised with each passing second. Then, she eyed me. “Thanks for trying, Y/N but this is for your own good.”

“Cate---”

“Indira, tell Y/N what your plans were for her,” Cate cut me off.

Shetty sat up and responded, “Upon receiving your application and seeing your powers, my plan was to admit you into the school but admit you to the Woods before the end of your first semester.”

“What?” The word felt like it was punched out of me and I took a step away from Cate.

Shetty continued, “A future probability supe with a ten percent margin of error is too dangerous. There is no way of predicting any of your moves or motives and I wanted you sedated and monitored. But Brink stopped me just before sending out acceptance letters; he insisted that you were much more useful in the classroom than you were in a lab.”

My stomach churned as I kept backing away from Cate, whose gaze never left mine, and Shetty. I could feel my neck and shoulders tense and I suddenly felt lightheaded.

“Stop,” I requested.

“Keep going,” Cate instructed.

“Cate, stop!” Emma pleaded.

“She needs to hear this.”

“I disagreed with him but set up check-ins with you in an attempt to get his perspective. On first impression, I knew that you were intelligent but anxious and you had no malintent in your power use. I paired you with Cate as a peer mentor because I knew she would be able to keep a close eye on you and make sure you were taking your medicine without being suspicious,” Shetty articulated.

“Did you put me on power suppressants too?” I asked.

“Partly. In each session, I made sure to play upon your insecurities, which would heighten your anxiety. You had so much self-doubt that your attempts to strengthen your powers were limited. Also, the medication I gave you only included a minimal amount of anti-anxiety medication. It also included power suppressants that dulled your abilities but not so much that you would notice.”

For a year and a half, I aired out all my insecurities, fears, goals, and grievances with Dean Shetty. She’d always made me feel secure in her office and was quick to offer advice. She listened every time I cried about my parents and gave me ginger tea after each episode. The fact that she’d been manipulating me and drugging me this whole time made it feel like the floor fell out from under me.

When I remembered she wanted me committed underground, I had to take really deep breaths.

She never cared about me or Cate; we were the enemy. Everything we told her was just more ammo that she could use.

“You never helped me; you almost made me worse,” I hissed.

“You’re too dangerous, all you supes are! It’s just a matter of time before you kill us all!” Shetty snapped.

“So, you kill us first?” Jordan shot back.

Shetty didn’t respond but glared defiantly at Jordan.

“She’s the enemy, Y/N, they all are. We can’t let them control us anymore,” Cate insisted.

“But hurting her doesn’t make us any better,” I whispered.

Cate nodded slowly. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

She turned on her heel and walked back over to Shetty and I couldn’t take my eyes off the knife.

“Cate, wait, I get that Shetty’s deplorable, but she isn’t worth killing,” I pleaded.

That and all my other pleas fell on deaf ears as Cate walked over to Shetty. She turned to me and glanced at the others behind me, all were similarly asking her to stop.

“Slit your throat, Indira,” Cate ordered, handing the butcher knife to Shetty.

The woman easily accepted it and obeyed the commandment in one swift motion. The gurgling noises were the worst and my hands slapped across my mouth as I forced myself to take deep even breaths. Then, Marie brushed past me, gently pushing me closer to the others as she approached Cate.

Marie stretched a hand towards Shetty but Cate grabbed her arm.

“Cate, let me help her,” Marie insisted.

“I can’t do that. This is what she deserves,” Cate said slowly.

For a moment I froze. Part of me wanted to lunge forward and free Marie and the other wanted to get as far away from the bloody scene as possible. Either way, I knew that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the life slowly draining from Shetty’s.

Taglist: @gardenof-venus @badbishsblog @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @darksoul100 @simiinthemirror

#black!reader #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #marie moreau x reader #limoreau x reader

144 notes · View notes

hyunfilms · 1 year ago

Text

blue side of the sky (lmh) | five.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 5.3k

—chapter warning: cussing, jisung being his worried and overprotective self, small argument between minho & jisung, another deep look into minho's feelings about everything, minho dance session which should be a warning itself, smut but not super descriptive smut (implied oral - m. receiving, doggy style), also a look into minho and kat, flashback scene at the end highlighting a core, painful moment for minho, crying, oc is in a coma during flashback

"Hi." You answer the phone call coming in as you make your way to your first pottery class.

"Cielo! Are you at class now?" You chuckle.

"About to be."

"You didn't answer my text." You can hear the pout through Jisung's tone.

"Sorry, pachi. I was gonna get to it as soon as I got inside the store. What's up?"

"I asked if you found anything to wear yet. For Yuna's?"

"Oh, no."

"Wanna go look after class? I'll meet you."

"I'm, um—" You pause a bit as you enter the store and greet the boy re-stocking items at the front.

"You're.. what?"

"I'm actually hanging out with San afterwards. He said he'd go with me to check out some dresses."

"You're.. hanging out with San?"

"Yes?" You let out a small sigh due to the unexpected response from your bestfriend. You felt nervous, and even more scared. Maybe you shouldn't have agreed to hang out with San. "Pachi, you told me to go for it. Should I just cancel and go with you—"

"No, no. I know I said that. I'm sorry, cielo. I didn't mean it in a bad way. I'm glad you're hanging out with him and stuff! Seriously. I just didn't expect that day to be today."

"I don't exactly have much time to find a dress."

"Yeah, I know. You'll find something and you'll look great in it, though! Is he gonna meet you after class?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, good. Well, enjoy yourself, okay? Don't think too much and just go with the flow."

"I know, I know."

"Well wait, let me back track." Jisung lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry. Are you ready to hang out with him? I hope I didn't pressure you too much."

"No it's not that. I think I'm ready. I mean, it's casual and super harmless, right?"

"Of course. He seems cool. But if he does try anything that you aren't ready for, just call me."

"I'll be fine. Thanks, Ji."

"Alright. Send pics of what you find!"

"I will." Your bottom lip pokes out as you end the call and tuck your phone back into your bag. This morning, you felt your confidence growing. You had been confident enough to agree to a hang out with San, even though he reassured you that there was no pressure. But the call with Jisung had you second-guessing everything.

Were you really ready for this?

You know Jisung meant no harm behind anything he said, but it was hard for you to not overthink. The only thing getting you by is the reminder that you have to experience these things to continue learning and settling back into the world; to continue living.

You couldn't be stuck in one place forever.

"Are you okay, miss?" You look over to your right and see the same boy from the front stocking up some of the shelves near the pottery classroom. You hadn't realized you zoned out and stopped in your tracks before entering the room.

"Oh. Yeah, I am." You chuckle shyly. "Sorry. Was lost in thought."

"No worries, just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you." You give him a small smile before finally entering the classroom. It's only supposed to be for 6 people, and you only see one other person already sitting at a wheel. You take the seat opposite from her, giving her a small smile when she glances up to look at you. She returns the smile, but her attention shifts back to her phone.

It doesn't take long before the rest of the wheels are filled and class is starting. You feel incredibly shy, but everyone in your class seems to be down to earth and just as eager to get their hands dirty. At first, you feel shy. You're barely working on the clay as much as the others are, but you remind yourself that you work at your own pace. When it's time to throw, it's a bit of a struggle before you finally find your own rhythm; receiving small praises from your instructor as she comes to your aid every now and then.

You're making a basic pot. Something to start off with, something easy.

It's fun.

You're happy you decided to move forward with class, paying some money for a membership to use the classroom during open hours. Class takes an hour and a half today, but the classroom remains open for anyone who is interested in doing another piece before the kiln gets loaded in a class or two. You wish you could, but as soon as you let your pot sit on the rack to completely dry, you catch wind of San walking around nearby aisles. He sees you looking over and he waves, a huge smile plastered on his face while you continue to clean up your space. When you've finally gotten through the last items and tidied up, you quickly wash your hands and grab your things to meet San in the store.

"Hey!" He waves enthusiastically. "How was class?" He digs his hands into his pocket while he waits for your response.

"It was good! Fun to get back into it." San nods.

"I'm glad. It's always satisfying to get back into things you've enjoyed." He nods towards the entrance. "It's beautiful outside. Ready to shop for dresses? You can tell me more about class while we walk."

"Sure." You chuckle. "What have you been up to today?"

"Well, I started off my day super early. Went to the gym before work. Got lots of things done. Now I'm here." He gives you a small smile. Over the course of texting San, you find out a few key details about him:

One, he has a younger sister and a cat that he adores. He's very family-oriented and takes everything family-related very seriously. He met JJ and their friend group in college, and they've stayed close ever since then. He also adores his friends to bits; it's quite cute. He says their personalities are all different, but they mesh so well.

Two, he was the definition of someone who took every single opportunity [especially in college] and ran with it. He aced his classes, participated in campus-wide activities and student government, volunteered, took internship after internship— that being what lead him to a huge opportunity overseas right after graduation to learn side by side from a principal architect. Years of doing so led him to a full-time position with their office back here at home.

Three, he is handsome, and he is incredibly sweet. He's laid back and caring; it's very easy to see why he gets along with people.

It's easy to talk to him.

So easy, that time flies by when you're with him. After a long, ongoing conversation about how the days have been, you've already popped into a few shops; slowly pulling hangers apart from each other to get a better view of the dresses— no particular dress catching your eyes just yet.

You eventually do find two dresses in the back of a new store you popped into that look fantastic on the mannequin, however, you feel like it'll be a different story when you try it on. Jisung says the wedding is at a hotel near the oceanside two hours away. The colors are hues of sage, green, browns and pale golds, and you're already excited to see how everything will turn out.

One dress is a taupe satin dress with a high slit, spaghetti straps and a cowl neck-line. The other is a sage satin dress with an asymmetrical high slit. They're almost similar in style— you're just not sure which color [or fit] would look better on you. San can tell you're unsure as you look at both dresses side by side, hands trailing down the fabric.

"Those are really pretty. You should try them on. You'll look great in either of those." San smiles.

"They're not too.. simple?" San shrugs.

"No. I think they're perfect for the wedding." You give him a small smile and nod, walking off to dressing room. San finds a little cushion to sit and wait on, scrolling through his phone while he patiently waits for you to be ready. He's not expecting you to show him the dresses, and quite frankly, he hopes he didn't come off that way. He does believe you'll look good in whatever option you choose, and his opinion doesn't matter much at the end of the day— it's truly whatever you feel good and comfortable in. Of course, San thinks you're gorgeous. He really couldn't help himself that day he walked into the café and saw you. Of course, his end goal would be to take you on a date and see where thing goes. But, the thing about San is that he knows about your accident. He knows the overall gist of things that have happened, but he doesn't know the fine details like your friends or JJ might know. It's not his business anyway, and he'd rather not go back to that moment in your life. So, he doesn't ask. He'll let you open up to him about it once [and if] you're ready. But, he knows. And he knows this isn't a priority for you right now, which is completely understandable.

If things happen, things happen. If it takes time, it takes time. Until then, he will continue to get to know you and be a friend.

"San?" San is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you softly call his name behind the dressing room door.

"Yeah? You okay?"

"Yeah, I just.. is it okay if I show you the first dress?"

"Of course, whatever you're comfortable with, Y/N."

"I just need you to see them and give me your honest opinion, okay?"

"Always." He hears the door handle jiggle before you swing the door open. You've tried on the taupe dress and you shyly come forward, hands fidgeting with the fabric of the dress. San sits up a bit as his eyes light up, nodding in acknowledgement with a small smile. "That color looks great on you."

"Is the dress okay? It feels a little too much." You fiddle with your fingers. "I feel like I can't comfortably move with how high this slit goes."

"The angle too, hm?" He nods. "It looks great, but if you're not comfortable, then maybe the next dress will feel better?" You nod.

"Yeah, maybe."

"It's fine Y/N, don't force yourself if you aren't 100% on it." You give him a small smile before walking back into the dressing room to try on the other dress. You also aren't expecting much with this dress, but as soon as you slip it on, you smile at yourself in the mirror and take it in for a moment.

It feels perfect.

The slit is also pretty high, but it's not asymmetrical and at a weird angle so you can still move around comfortably. It fits nicely on your body, your figure, and the fabric isn't too heavy. Taupe color is beautiful under the light, and it's easy to pair.

"I really like this one." You say softly and San lets out a small chuckle.

"That's good. I'm glad you do." He watches as you walk out and nods in agreement when he sees how much more relaxed you look in the dress. "You look beautiful. That dress is the one!" You shyly chuckle at him.

"Yeah, I think it is, too."

"Are you set on it, or do you still wanna look some more?"

"No, I'm pretty set on this." San stands with a smile.

"Nice, it's perfect. We can go eat somewhere after, if you'd like?"

"Oh yes, please. I'm starving. I'm sorry I dragged you along on this." You say as you shut the door and start to get changed.

"No, don't apologize. I meant it when I said I didn't mind. I'm happy to accompany you." San scratches at his temple and nervously laughs. "I honestly thought we'd take much longer, so I'm a little relieved we can eat now." You laugh and gather your things, handing the other dress to the staff member before walking to the cashier.

Afterwards, San takes you to a bbq spot out of the central downtown area, roughly a 15 minute drive out. You get seated pretty quickly even though the restaurant is becoming packed by the minute. It's not too loud, but it is bustling; with busy workers and people engaging in fun conversation over beer and soju. In the middle of grilling the meat and telling you his Spain experience, you get a call from Jisung— the constant vibration on the table pulling you away from San's story.

"Sorry. It's Jisung." San chuckles and shakes his head, placing a few pieces of samgyeopsal onto your plate.

"No, please. Go for it." You give him a small apologetic smile before picking up the call. Jisung is at home, bored out of his mind and a bit worried. He knew he needed to give you time to do your thing, but as dinner time was approaching, he couldn't help but check in. He just needed to know that you were okay and at least enjoying yourself.

"Pachi."

"Hi, sorry." He says. "I didn't hear from you for awhile so I just wanted to call." You chuckle a bit.

"I'm okay."

"Yeah? That's good to hear." He furrows his brows at the background noise. "It's kinda.. loud? Where are you?"

"Eating with San."

"Oh, okay. Did you find a dress?"

"Sure did. Oops, I'll send pictures to you after." You did remember to snap a few photos of the dresses you tried on earlier.

"No worries. It's not too crazy there, right?"

"No. I'll be okay. We'll be done soon."

"Okay. Please text me when you get home."

"I will."

"Love you."

"Love you too." You softly set the phone down and look at San. "I really am sorry about him."

"No, it's okay." San shrugs. "I get it. He's your bestfriend and he cares about you alot."

"Too much sometimes." You tease, though you try to hint at the fact that you are very grateful for Jisung no matter what.

Meanwhile, Jisung finds himself getting hungrier by the minute, finalizing his delivery order that shouldn't arrive too long from now. He's home alone while his roommates are all out, so he tries to pick up where he left off in God of War: Ragnarok to make time fly by. The delivery food actually comes a half hour later, with Jisung shutting off the game before darting down the stairs to grab his food. Just as he's bringing it in, he sees Minho pull up and park— leaving the door slightly ajar for when he walks in.

"Yo." Jisung quickly looks over his shoulder as he continues to unbox his delivery food, quickly greeting Minho as he walks into the kitchen. "Surprised you're home early."

"Surprised you're home since you're usually taking all the food at Y/N's and Uncle Adrian's."

"That's not true at all and you know it." Jisung looks at Minho while he chuckles at him and grabs a glass for some water. "Seriously, why are you home early?"

"I just wanted to come home early and not do something for once. Catch up on sleep. Be lazy."

"We can play, if you want?"

"Eh." Minho shrugs after drinking some water. "Maybe later."

"I'm also surprised—" Jisung shakes his head. "Nevermind."

"Say it."

"No, you'll kill me and Y/N isn't around to save me."

"What, she's still in class?" Minho asks with a chuckle, confused at how long your pottery class actually was.

"No, she's out shopping for a dress."

"Alone? Shouldn't someone be with her if she's gonna be out for a bit?"

"Someone is with her." Jisung mumbles as he pours some of his soup appetizer into a bowl.

"And it's not you?" Jisung shakes his head. "Chan?" Jisung shakes his head again. "Seungmin? Why on earth would you leave her with Seungmin, though?"

"I didn't leave her with Seungmin. I didn't leave her anywhere, she just had other plans." Jisung grabs his food and tries to head up to his room. Which, he successfully does, but Minho is following closely behind. "Gonna watch some streams since you don't wanna play, see ya—" Minho kicks his foot out to stop his door from closing.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Minho nods at him and furrows his brows. "You're the one who told me to stop being weird when it comes to Y/N, you little hypocrite."

"I'm not being weird!"

"You are!"

"She's in good hands, alright? It's fine."

"She's with San, isn't she?"

"I never even said anything. "

"See, you're being fucking weird for no reason."

"Well, I don't know? It's kinda weird to tell you!"

"This was your idea in the first place, remember?" Minho sighs and crosses his arms. "I just wanted to know if she was okay. Besides, how do you know if she's in good hands with San? He doesn't even know anything about her like that."

"You really think JJ wouldn't have said anything to him?"

"I don't think so?"

"He's one of JJ's really good friends, I think he might know some portion of it."

"Then, he's not any better than you and I, is he?" Minho cocks his head to the side and looks at him.

"Please don't do that." Jisung sighs. "She's fine, okay? He seems cool. I think we can give him a little more than that."

"What's your plan behind this one?"

"Don't even say it like that, dude. For real." Jisung's brow is slightly furrowed, though this is something he fully expects from Minho. "I just thought it'd be cool for her to hang out with other people too. It doesn't hurt."

"Hm." Minho hums as he turns on his heel and walks towards his room.

"Where are you going?"

"Change of plans. Gonna head to the studio and work on some stuff."

"Wait, you're not upset, are you?" Jisung pouts a bit. He really didn't mean to make Minho upset even though he knows you're still a very sensitive subject to him. Plus, Jisung doesn't want this to spiral out of control. He'll give you some time, but he will tell you everything. He will.

"Upset?" Minho slings his bag over his shoulder and gives him a tiny pursed smile. "No. Can't be." There's a drip of sarcasm in his tone because of course he can't be. There's so many truths, feelings, opinions, clinging onto that statement alone. He's trying to convince himself that he can't be, but also, he knows this is the response he'd immediately get from everyone around him. And he hates that.

Because no matter what, they will never understand you two. They will never understand the thoughts, the feelings, that occupy his mind day in and day out— especially since the accident happened.

He feels.

No one seems to know that.

But to simply answer Jisung's question, yes. He is upset. He really hopes you're okay and that San is taking care of you. It's the least he can fucking do after charming you the way he did. He's upset because of many other things, he's upset because he finds himself dwelling on the past much longer than he needs to. He finds himself sinking into all the 'what if's' — finding it hard to focus on his present, to look forward to his future.

He's constantly sinking, with nothing in reach.

He heads to the studio just like he tells Jisung, but he doesn't have class. There's nothing scheduled at the studio, so there shouldn't be anyone around.

It's fine.

That's what he needs right now, anyway. Space to do his own thing, space to dance out all the frustrations. Space to shake off all this shit.

When he gets to the studio, he parks his car and unlocks the door with his own key; tossing his bag off to the side as he steps into the room. He instantly connects his phone to the speakers, blasting his more upbeat playlist throughout the room. He stretches as the mirrors vibrate to the beat of the song currently playing, lights dim and barely illuminating the space.

He lets everything go.

He just needs to, momentarily.

He lets the vibration sink through his body, letting it flow through in waves— just like with everything that's been happening. It's the only way he's been able to process. He has some choreography he needs to finish up before next class but that's the last thing on his mind right now.

The first wave, Minho felt numb. He couldn't believe how everything happened so quickly. You were just in front of him— only to be snatched away hours later. He wasn't sure what to do, how to gain power to change time, didn't know what life would be like with you. It was all too much to process knowing you were almost taken from him completely.

The second wave, Minho was angry, upset, frustrated; all the time. He had no outlet, and as fucked up as it sounds, this is how he brought Kat closer. He felt empty, he felt angry with himself, he felt like he needed some validation. Something to tell him he wasn't entirely at fault, that he was still a person who could be needed, wanted; that he wasn't a bad person although he did need to take ownership for some things at some point.

The third wave that he's currently riding, Minho has nothing else to give. Nothing else to process. He feels useless, powerless— he can't change time or bring anything back. There is simply nothing there and he doesn't know how to work with that in order to move forward. What can he change, how can he do better, when no one believes he can change and do better for you? No one wants to give him that. And quite frankly, they're slowly convincing him that he can't even give himself that.

Maybe it'll go back to the first wave and he'll go back to being numb. But Minho doesn't know what's worse— being numb because it's too much to process, or being numb because there is nothing else to process; nothing else to change, nothing to hang onto.

He doesn't know if he'll ever bounce back from this.

Minho is so into his thoughts as he dances without a strict choreo in mind, sweat dripping down his face as he takes a moment to catch his breath. He sits with his back against the mirror, regulating his breathing after consistently moving his body. He takes a quick sip of water, eyes darting to his phone lighting up on the counter. The vibration is cutting through the music, making Minho groan in annoyance at the interruption.

kat: roommates are gone

kat: lonely af

kat: can you come over? )):

He thinks about this, and to be honest, he still feels pretty shitty. It's a terrible excuse, but who else can he run to right now? Kat makes him feel good. Kat makes him feel better, at least, enough to push him through in the meantime.

minho: be over in a bit. at the studio.

Kat, however, will never be you. She temporarily fills the void, but she will never be you.

From before, from now.

kat: can u stop by for some food?

minho: i'm only coming by for a bit. i have to be up early tomorrow.

kat: yeah ofc whats new

Minho rolls his eyes as he sets his phone aside and continues to dance around the empty studio for a bit until he feels somewhat content. He drags his duffle bag to the separate staff locker room, quickly using the shower before changing into a fresh pair of sweats and a hoodie. He ruffles his damp hair a bit as he walks out into the fresh night air, tossing his bag into the trunk before making his journey to Kat's apartment.

At this point, he's not entirely in the mood to see her. But, he's here just like he says— and he only plans to stay for a quick minute before he's rushing home.

Just like he says.

"Oh, you really didn't stop by for food." Kat snickers a bit before stepping aside to let him in.

"Why would I when I said no?" Minho confusingly chuckles a bit. "Told you I was only coming for a bit. I'm beat."

"Uh huh." She says. "I missed you." She pouts. "I barely heard from you today." He watches her as she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips even though he barely returns the effort.

"I was busy."

"You could at least tell me that." She whines as she laces her hand with his.

"Sorry." Is all he can say even though he doesn't really mean it. She is not you; from before, from now. "I'll let you know next time." He follows up and uses it as leverage to kiss her again. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He says in between kisses, sinking into her touch and her lips when she lets out soft moans against him.

This is right where he needs her to be. This is the release he needs, the temporary void he needs filled.

She knows what this is, for the most part. She knows Minho could never be serious with her, though she tries. Hoping one day, he will. Hoping one day, he'll finally move past you and give her a shot.

But, he won't. He never will. And if the accident taught him one thing, it's the fact that he will never, ever give you up again.

She takes the lead and rushes him to the room, clothes flying in all directions until they're decorating the floor. She pushes him onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge while she crouches down and wraps her lips around his length. He hisses a bit, fingers laced in her hair as he pushes her down more, and more.

More;

'Till she takes all of him.

He can't deny that it feels amazing, but he doesn't wanna leave it at that. He's not always a taker, only if Kat reassures that she wants to please him and him only. So, before he feels himself reaching his peak, Minho gently tugs her head off— praising her as he gets her on all fours. He's not wasting any time, no. He enters her and bottoms out quick, finding the perfect rhythm in no time.

He needs to get out.

He doesn't necessarily take his time as much as Kat wants him to. She's screaming his name like a mantra, head pushed against her pillow while Minho continues to do his work behind her. It doesn't take long before she's like putty in his hands and he's stupidly pulling out to spill his seed all over her ass, back.

He needs to get out. Now.

So, he comes back down from his high, regulates his breathing and hops off her bed. He's quickly throwing his clothes back on while Kat is confusingly doing the same. She's asking him why he's been doing this lately, and he doesn't really know how to explain to her that he's just feeling more and more disconnected to this whole thing— to her. She's still continuing though; arms crossed tightly against her chest as she follows Minho out to the door, tears threatening to spill over her bottom lid. He's not focused on her, to be honest, and he's exhausted. Not much is registering for him besides his lazy 'I'm sorry's' and 'I'll spend more time with you the next time I'm over.' But the one thing that does snap him out of everything is when Kat asks—

"It's because of Y/N isn't it?" He stops in his tracks right as he's about to swing the door open and turns over his shoulder to glare at her. "Ever since she woke up—"

"Don't." He says sternly. "You don't get to do that." His jaw clenches. "Do me a favor and don't bring Y/N up again." He swings the door and slams it shut, suddenly feeling emptier than he did before he got here.

Maybe this wave would be the hardest.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | HOSPITAL

"Are you going to come with us to the hospital to visit Y/N tomorrow?" Minho shakes his head at Seungmin.

"Probably not. You guys can go without me." He says softly as he scribbles some notes into his notepad for the small, upcoming café renovations.

"You sure?" Seungmin softly asks and all Minho can do is nod without meeting his eyes. Seungmin lets out a soft sigh before he grabs his keys sitting on the dining room table. "Gotta head back into the office really quickly to drop something off. See you later?"

"Yeah." Is all Minho says, still avoiding contact until Seungmin is out of the door. He lets out a deep sigh, dropping his pen onto the notepad.

He doesn't even remember what he needed to write.

He checks the time on his watch, hand close to hitting 4 o'clock. He groans to himself, shutting his notebook before grabbing his own keys from the other end of the kitchen table.

He hopes he doesn't regret this.

Though, he kinda does when he slaps the visitor tag on his sweater and proceeds to your room. Then, it grows when he stands at your doorway and sees you lying perfectly still on your bed. He digs his hands into his pockets and remains there for a moment, afraid to move closer, yet his feet aren't taking him away from your room. He musters up the courage about a min later, slowly walking towards your bed side.

Even through all the pain and hurt you've been through, you still looked so, so angelic.

"Hey." He says, close to a whisper— voice slightly cracking because he doesn't know what he's feeling right now as he looks at you. Is he angry at himself for coming here when things were't changing anytime soon? Is he angry he could've done better? Is he angry for the way the universe is playing such a sick fucking joke on him right now?

Because you're in reach and out of reach at the same time.

Minho gains more courage to pull his chair closer to your bedside so that he doesn't have to lean too far to get a good look at you. The only sounds filling the room are the beeping machines and the people passing in the hallway outside.

"Y/N." He calls your name as he gently brushes the hair back and away from your face. "Hope you're doing okay." He feels so stupid. Why would he say that? His thumb caresses your cheek before it slides down to your hand. It isn't too cold, but the warmth in your body has subsided.

The warmth in your body is fighting to stay.

"I-I—" He pauses to lick his lips. "I miss you." No response. "God, I miss you." He feels the tears welling up and his head drops. He holds your hand tightly and squeezes, hoping he can feel anything on your end.

But, nothing.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers just as he's remembering every detail about you, the moments he's shared with you, the feelings, your touch—

The way you smile, the way you laugh.

The way you always kiss his fingers and look at him in pure adoration.

The way you bring the sun and blue skies into every room.

"I fucked up and I'm so, so sorry." He continues to whisper as he cries harder, head falling near your lap as he continues hold your hand. "I'm so sorry." He repeats.

He should've kept his word.

He should've done better.

He should've protected you.

"I should've done better. I shouldn't have let you go, and I'll never forgive myself for being so fucking stupid." He looks up at you through his teary eyes before returning his head back near your lap. "I get it. I would never want you to be in pain. Or, to hurt. All I want is for you to be okay. But, if you can at least hear me right now—" He pauses as his crying intensifies. "Please don't give up on me. I know I fucked up and I know I have no right to ask you for this, but please don't leave me." It's barely audible through his crying, but he's hoping it will somehow reach you. "Please don't leave me."

☁︎ END

♡ taglist: @lotus-dly @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintificreads @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored

#lee know series #lee know fanfic #minho fanfic #minho series #lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids series #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #lee know smut #minho angst #minho fluff #minho smut #hyunfilms: blue side of the sky

275 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago

Note

Request: THIS IDEA JUST SPARKED HOLY SHIT?? OK have you ever watched Hot Ones with Sean Evens (first we feast is the youtube channel) so basically that but Steve is the one being interviewed but he LOVES spicy food??(watch the episode with Florence Pugh i LOVE it but basically I want it to be kinda like that) just yeah that. Jxjxnxnx please and thank you

MY LOVE ❤️ I admit, most of what I watch of really anything is either highlights on Tik Tok or short clips my friends send me because I am out of touch with the cool kids. But Hot Ones is SO GOOD. The Lewis Capaldi episode (I do love him anyways) had me actually almost pee my pants laughing. I hope you love this fun (short, sorry) thing for this! - Mickala ❤️

-------------------------------------------------

“I just don’t know why you got Hot Ones. They could have had the whole band on there making idiots of themselves,” Eddie pouted.

He’d been pouting for two days now.

In fact, his entire band was from the moment Steve called him on tour to let him know that he would be doing the Hot Ones interview next week.

“I told you, they had a last minute cancellation and my schedule just worked. Maybe you’ll get next season,” Steve said over the phone as the oven timer went off to let him know his brownies were done cooking.

“Whatcha makin’ Stevie?” Eddie’s curiosity was adorable.

He was in London, just got off stage from their last show in Europe. Steve was in their home in LA, having the last lazy day in before his awards season started.

“If I tell you, you’ll be sad you’re missing it.”

“Tell us! Tell us!” Gareth said from much closer than Steve would have expected.

“Hi Gare Bear. No personal space tonight?”

Eddie laughed as Steve pulled the brownies out of the oven and shut it off.

“He said personal space is for people who don’t like each other and he likes me very much,” Steve could hear Eddie’s eye roll in his voice. “A shame because I can’t stand him.”

“Play nice boys. You’ll be home in less than 24 hours,” Steve reminded them.

Gareth lived a mile up the road from them with his boyfriend and their excessive amount of cats.

Excessive being four.

Steve was allergic, so any amount of cats seemed excessive to him.

But Steve and Gareth were close, had been since even before Eddie and Steve started dating.

He was Steve’s best man in their wedding, much to Dustin’s bafflement. He only didn’t argue because Eddie softened the blow by asking him to be his own best man.

Usually if baked goods or a home cooked meal were involved, Gareth would show up at their door ready to partake.

“You’ll be home when I get there?”

“Yep. Cleared my whole day just for you, baby.”

“Good. Miss you.

“Miss you too. You heading to bed?” Steve poked at the brownies, making sure they were cooked.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” Eddie yawned to emphasize how exhausted he was. “Did your manager tell them you love spicy foods or are you just gonna let them assume you’re a wimp?”

“Nah. It’ll be fun.”

—-------------------

When he arrives on the set of Hot Ones, Sean greets him with a smile and a handshake.

Eddie wasn’t able to come with him, but Robin had promised to record the whole thing just for them.

She watched from the side next to his manager, Nancy, and his bodyguard, Hopper.

They settled at the table, got mic’d up, makeup touched up, and Sean reminded him that if he absolutely had to tap out, they could stop recording and edit everything accordingly to make it look like he made it through the challenge.

Steve wasn’t worried.

The first three wings didn’t even have a kick. It was just a casual conversation between friends.

He talked about his work with a theater group for kids in New York City, as well as his work on an indie film that was coming out in the fall.

The fourth and fifth wings had a pinch of spice to them, but nothing to make even bat an eye.

Sean continued asking questions, Steve continued answering them.

On the seventh wing, Steve was barely distracted from the question: “What project of yours are you most looking forward to doing next?”

“I think I’ll be most excited to take some time off with my husband, working on starting the family we’ve wanted for a while. He’s been on tour for most of the last year, and we agreed it was a good time to figure out what we wanna do,” Steve said as he took another bite.

He could feel the burn of this one at least, felt the sting on his lips and tongue.

But it was very manageable, and the jalapeno flavor was almost refreshing. It tasted fresh.

“Okay, I have to ask: did you practice these beforehand?”

Steve snorted.

“No. I’m just not very sensitive to spicy foods. I usually keep a lot of hot sauces in my house. Poor Eddie’s learned how to tolerate spice because of it,” Steve said as they brought out the eighth wing.

“I’ve never had anyone so calm at this point. I’m starting to think even the hottest one won’t really bother you!”

“I guess we’ll see!”

The ninth wing was hot. He wouldn’t try to deny it.

“It does have a lovely watermelon flavor to it, very fruity and tangy on top of the spice. I like it,” Steve smiled.

He knew his face was getting a bit red from this one, and he reached for the water, but only had to take a couple of small sips before he was ready to keep going.

“Alright, for this one, we’ll ask a question for you to answer before and then we’ll have one for right after. You ready?”

“Bring it on!”

And it definitely did.

It was hot, and he could feel tears in his eyes, and sweat breaking out across his forehead.

“Finally, we have a reaction!” Sean exclaimed.

“This one’s definitely a lot more than the others,” Steve added, reaching for the milk.

He could tell Robin and Nancy were laughing, probably very much enjoying any amount of pain he managed to have when he went into this so sure that none of them would get to him.

“Final question: Would you ever consider retiring to follow Eddie on tour with your future family?”

Steve nodded once, taking another sip of the milk.

God, this one was hot.

“Uh, yep. I mean, retiring is a strong word. I would definitely take a long break. I’ve always wanted a family,” he stopped to take another sip and a bite of the celery. “I’ve wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember. And I know Eddie wants that, but he also doesn’t wanna stop making music, and the rest of his band isn’t ready to take a break like that. I know it would be easy for me, so my plan would be to take at least a few years off.”

“Doing alright over there?”

Steve laughed, fanning his face.

“I’m okay. That just went from a kick to a beatdown pretty quick.”

“Well, you’re a pro at making it look easy. You deserve an Oscar for this performance!”

It was a ridiculous sentiment, but funny, and Steve was up for an Oscar this year.

He finished the glass of milk and shook Sean’s hand, thanking him for having him.

“Eddie is already in tears watching Sean watch you in disbelief,” Robin started as soon as he joined them again.

“What was all that at the end?” Nancy asked, arms crossed, face furious.

He usually had free reign in interviews, but he knew Nancy would tell him not to mention anything even slightly related to retirement.

His career had really only just taken off a couple years earlier, and talking about a break or retiring now would immediately cut his chances of good roles in half.

“Just the truth, Nance. You know Eddie and I wanna start a family,” he said as they started walking through the backstage area to leave.

“I just didn’t know that meant taking a break. I thought you’d just take turns with stuff or hire a nanny.”

Steve knew that worked for a lot of couples, but they both were too family-focused for that. They didn’t want a nanny raising their kids.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not! I just would’ve liked a heads up.”

Robin stared between them, eyes bouncing back and forth like it was a tennis match.

“I don’t have to tell you every single detail of my life. You know all that’s relevant right now.”

Nancy sighed, but nodded, turning away and typing furiously on her phone.

His phone rang seconds later.

“Sweetheart, let me just say: it is so sexy how you handle those hot sauces,” Eddie’s teasing voice was enough to get him back into a happy mood.

“Your standards for sexy are so low,” Steve said as he walked to the corner to get as much privacy as possible.

“No, it’s just that everything you do is sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.”

“Steve!” Sean’s voice came from behind him, large smile lighting up his face. “Sorry to bother you, but would Eddie and the guys like to come on the show as our bonus episode this season?”

Eddie was screaming yes through the phone, much to their amusement.

“So…yes?” Sean asked.

“Yes!” Eddie yelled.

Sean walked away to update the producer while Steve kept talking to Eddie.

“See? Now you’ll get your show, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #request #ficlet #stranger things #rock star eddie munson #actor steve harrington #modern au

268 notes · View notes

klaprisun · 7 months ago

Text

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 17

The flag on my mailbox has caught my eye this morning as I go out to tend to my crops. Reaching in, I pull out a familiar looking piece of paper with writing scribbled on it.

Dear Danny,

Tomorrow we’re all gathering at the beach for the annual Pelican Town Luau

The highlight of the event is the communal potluck. Make sure you bring something good to contribute! The governor himself is attending the event, so make sure you’re on your best behavior.

Come to the beach sometime between 9am and 2pm.

- Mayor Lewis

“I only have until tomorrow to find something good?! Why is he telling us this so last minute!?” I shout.

All of my crops have been considered a hit in this community. After I had given Leah the cauliflower she had asked for during my first week here, she had spread the word that I have the freshest and tastiest fruits and veggies. That should mean that I shouldn’t be as worried as I am about finding the best thing to contribute.

I usually save the best looking crops from my fields for myself, so I decided I will go through all of those fruits and veggies before anything. Although, I will probably need help deciding on what to bring.

Slinging my backpack full of food containers over my shoulder, I head out the door. The closest person to ask that wouldn’t be busy today would be Leah. I don’t really want to bother Marnie today since she is probably busy with her store and farm.

The trip over was a short one since I’m pretty used to the walk now. I’ve been here for several months so the walking always feels like nothing.

“Hey Leah!” I call out as I swing open her front door. She has told me before I don’t need to knock since she considers me a friend.

“Oh, hey Danny!” She mumbles through gritted teeth. She seems to be very concentrated on carving a piece of wood. Elliot is also here, sitting on Leah’s bed with a book.

“Perfect! I’m glad you are also here Elliot. Both of you can help me out. That is if you have a minute there, Leah?”

“Whatcha need help with? Confessing your feelings?” Elliot mocks in a playful tone. He seems very intrigued as he has put down his book.

“I need help picking what to bring to the Luau tomorrow. Lewis gave me way too late of notice and I can’t decide what item to bring.

“I don’t know how you will pick. I know I’m biased, but I think everything you have grown is good,” Leah chimes in while still working away.

“We just have to decide on ONE thing. I’m sure we can do this. I’ve brought enough samples for us. I had just cut up one of everything I had, but left a full thing of each item back at home for whatever food we decide on,” I explained to them.

“Well I guess we better get started then. I’m at a good place to stop,” Leah leaps off her stole and makes her way over to her table around the corner. Elliot and I joined her.

🌻 🌻 🌻

“Danny, I don’t think I can eat anymore,” Elliot groans, holding his stomach.

“But we still haven’t decided!” I reply with a mouth full of strawberries. I reach over to grab a handful of blueberries to shove in my mouth.

“I don’t know why you are doubting yourself. Anything you bring will be the best, I guarantee,” Leah says.

“I just don’t want to let everyone down. The governor will be here and everything, I just want to make a good impression with everyone,” I sigh.

“You’ve already done so much for the town,” Elliot begins, “everyone thinks you are the best we promise.”

“You’ve already made good impressions with everyone in town, don’t worry about what the governor thinks,” Leah adds.

“Knock Knock!” Someone sing songs from the front door area. The three of us exchange glances, wondering who it could be. We hear the door shut and footsteps approaching the corner.

“Oh no, am I missing out on a party?” Emily frowns as she rounds the corner.

“Want to help us pick out which food item Danny should bring tomorrow?” Elliot invites Emily in on the taste testing. He is trying to be sneaky and get out of helping, but he isn’t fooling me.

“Actually, I’d love to! I was just dropping off this shirt Leah needed fixed,” She holds up the shirt she had in her hand. Without another thought, she chucks it onto Leah’s bed that’s across the room and takes a seat at the table with us. “What’s on the menu!”

We go through the entire process again, this time with Emily. Elliot has stopped eating and retired to the bed with a book as he was when I walked in.

“Honestly…” Emily starts as she swallows her bite, “I can’t decide either. Do you mind if I bring the leftovers to Haley and see what she thinks? She is picky and if Haley likes something, you know it’s good.”

“Uh–um- yeah… I guess you can do that. It’ll help us decide that’s for sure,” I stutter.

“Wonderful! I will send her over to your place with your containers once she tries everything.” Emily bounces up off the chair, gathers every container into her arms, and walks out. I had to get the door for her since she had her hands full.

“You should bring yourself over there for her to taste test as well,” Elliot jokes from the bed, not even looking up from his page.

I feel my face get warm, so I start looking out the window so they can’t see me blushing.

“You didn’t deny it!” Leah chuckles as she goes back to her sculpting.

“I guess I should head back to my place and wait around for her, huh?” I utter. I anxiously tap my knuckles together a couple times.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” The two of them call out in unison as I make my way out the door. I then hear them yell “jinx” to each other as I shut the door.

I do not have enough patience to wait around all day without having something to do. But the thing is, when I know something is supposed to happen in a day, I can’t get myself to do anything except wait around.

I find myself kicking the dirt around on the ground, tossing rocks into a small pond at the corner of my farm, checking each individual crop for a sign of growth, and even picking up random acorns and pinecones. It was a full day of useless activities that did not help with anything in the slightest.

The sun has made its way across the sky, and is now barely peeking over the horizon. It casts a pink, orange, and yellow glow over the earth, with just a touch of purple from the darkening sky. I can faintly see a few stars twinkling already. The whole day had gone by, and even though I was doing mundane and weird things to pass the time, it really flew by. There was still no sign of Haley.

I take a seat on the ledge of the porch of my house, tracing my boots in the dirt to make random pictures. When I give up on that, I lean back and lay down with my legs still hanging over the ledge of the porch.

It was definitely not an exhausting day. It wasn’t even a remotely tiring day at that. But for some reason, I had fallen asleep on my porch waiting for Haley.

I woke with a start as I realized what I had done. The air has cooled significantly, and I cannot see anything around me. It was pitch black with the darkness of the night. The stars were twinkling more visibly now, and I could now see just a faint sliver of a moon.

“Shit Shit Shit,” I frantically cry out. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness. To my right, I notice a pile of containers. My containers. There was a little piece of paper on top that I immediately snatched to look at. In the neatest, fanciest writing I have ever seen, it read:

Danny,

I didn’t want to wake you, so I just put your containers here and ran home to write you a letter since I wasn’t sure when you’d wake. I was told you couldn’t pick what you wanted to bring to the Luau tomorrow, and wanted me to help you decide. I thought everything was absolutely amazing and it was definitely tough for me to pick. Although, I think you should bring a Melon. That had stuck out to me the most. It definitely had a gold star taste!

From my heart to yours,

Haley

P.S: I hope you're dreaming of me! ♡

37 notes · View notes

laundrybiscuits · 2 years ago

Text

(continued from Part 1)

Steve takes the train in, because there’s no place to park on Eddie and Robin’s street. He’s always driven before, and it makes him a little nervous to be leaving his car behind, but Robin keeps saying it’ll be fine.

“We’ve got great transit here!” she says, and Steve wonders when we started meaning Robin and Eddie and all the people who aren’t Steve. “I mean, the buses are kind of shitty sometimes. And don’t ever talk to strangers on the Red Line. But as long as you don’t live too far west, you can get pretty much anywhere in the city without a car. You won’t miss it, Steve, I swear.”

He does miss it a little, as he gets off the train at Union Station. He feels weirdly unprotected with nothing between him and the crush of people swarming through the high-ceilinged halls. It makes him feel over-sensitive and small, pulled along by the crowd because he knows better than to stop in the middle of the station and stare at a map like some small-town dumbass.

Eddie’s waiting on the steps outside the station.

He looks good. He’s bundled up in a leather jacket and scarf; he pulls a hand out of his pocket to give a half-hearted wave. He doesn’t go to meet Steve halfway or anything, he just stands there and waits for Steve to make it out.

“Eddie,” says Steve, when he gets close enough. He almost goes for a hug, but shifts to a shoulder-clap at the last minute. “Good to see you, man.”

“Heya, Harrington. Robin couldn’t get out of work early enough, so she made me promise to shepherd you directly to our door. Don’t want you getting lost in the mean streets of Chicago, huh?”

Eddie doesn’t wait for him to respond, just grabs Steve’s suitcase and starts walking fast. Steve has to scramble to keep up.

———

Steve whistles when he gets into the new place. It’s bigger than he was expecting, with a bay window looking over a little courtyard from the living room.

“Nice digs,” he says.

Eddie laughs. “I know it’s not exactly like what you’ve got in Hawkins. Robbie says you’ve got a whole house with a yard and shit. Living the dream.”

Steve stamps down on the weird feeling he gets hearing Eddie say Robbie so casually. They’re friends. They live together. It’s fine.

“No, I mean it.” Steve takes a good look around, wandering over to peer out the bay window. “This is nice. Better than the last place Robin had.”

Eddie unwinds his scarf, dumping it on a chair. “That’s for damn sure, at least. You want anything to drink?”

“Sure,” says Steve. He’s not really thirsty, but it’s something to do.

Eddie hands him a beer, and they stand in silence for an awkward moment.

“So…how’ve you been?” asks Steve. He thinks the instinct to make small talk is probably baked into him.

Eddie shrugs. “Not so bad. Been playing some gigs, teaching a little at the music school. Getting by.”

Eddie flops down on the couch and takes a drink from his own beer, not looking at Steve, so Steve takes the opportunity to have a good look at Eddie.

It’s been about two years since the last time he saw Eddie. It’s kinda funny; after everything, he’d kind of had this crazy idea that Eddie would fold right into their little Hawkins monster-hunting troop. Like maybe he’d have someone around who wasn’t his ex or under fifteen or Robin Buckley. Because he loves Robin more than he knew he could love another human being, but Eddie’s something else entirely; something he thought could’ve fit into his life pretty well, given the chance.

It hadn’t happened, though. Steve had gone to visit him nearly every damn day in the hospital, usually with Dustin in tow, just hanging out for a couple hours with him and Max. It hadn’t been a hardship to keep them company. In fact, it got so the hospital visits were the highlight of Steve’s day, just getting to hear Eddie tell his wild stories to try and make Max laugh. It had felt really good to be there with them.

Apparently Eddie hadn’t been on the same page, because Steve hadn’t even fucking known when Eddie left the hospital. He’d just showed up by himself one day for visiting hours and was told oh, Mr. Munson was discharged on Thursday. Steve hadn’t even had a shift on Thursday. He could’ve driven Eddie home.

Anyway, Steve could take a hint. He’d tried again a few times, inviting Eddie to hang out, just the two of them; but Eddie always seemed to be busy, and then before he knew it, Eddie'd been hunching against the February chill in the Hendersons’ back yard and saying I won’t ask. And that was pretty much that.

#I have been having a truly spectacularly bad week including my phone being stolen #so I may be even more scarce around here than usual for a little while #steddie #fic: grace coming out of the void

505 notes · View notes

slut4daviii · 2 years ago

Text

character: r.sukuna

pt: 01/02

summary: “everyone’s gay until proven straight” -Albert Einstein 1994

a/n: the quote above is satire, please do not take it seriously. also, minors and fem-aligned DO NOT INTERACT [s.name] = sister name, you don’t have a sister? then your really missing out.

title: one down, one to go

wc: 1400+

────────────────────────

The Itadori's estate was something that existed beyond the imagination. A large residential reserve of land tucked comfortably away in a three-way forest covered reservoir. The north, south, and east sides were completely surrounded by towering trees, rocketing higher than the eye could see.

The south side was the only actual entrance to the large building, a winding driveway that spun beautifully around a dove shaped fountain situated in the middle of a crystalline indigo-green pond.

It was passed down the family line, never losing its luster. It was usually used for casual parties: gowns and suits, champagne popping, fancy displays of money, marriage, and even the birth of heirs.

And today was no different, a party was held, yet, in contrast to the past, this was not a political party. No bow-ties or high hats.

───

music blared loudly, some teens drinking, some making out, some… conceiving other actions, and yet, some still lay passed out, enamored to the oddly comforting ground.

however, the highlight of this party came from the upstairs infinite pool. inside sat teenagers tispy and intrigued. yet, around it lay half empty bottles of all types: hennesy, schnapps, bourbon, vodka, cognac, and a magnificent magnitude of other alcohols.

a simple game of truth or dare. “a simple ‘do or don’t’ game between underage drunk teenagers” you’d say, knowing damn well it was anything but.

due to the interference of Maki Zenin, four distinct rules were cultivated to make the game much more enticing.

in her words, “the game is really simple, however, the rules make it much more complex.”

RULE ONE: the order in which everyone sits is immutable, so if you want to change your seats, I advise you do it now.

nobody thought to move, leaving the oder of participants as so: Sukuna, You, [s.name], Megumi, Nobara, Toge, Pan (Panda), Yuuji, and finally, Maki.

RULE TWO: there is a limit on how many dares and truths, if two people choose dare, then the person after them has to choose truth. and vise versa for two truths.

RULE THREE: anyone can dare anyone, nothing is off the table. however, if you pass up the dare you have to take a shot, and if you pass up a truth, you have to take two shots.

RULE FOUR: if a dare involves you, you cannot declare if you want to pass it up or not, that’s the choice of the person being dared. but, if they do decide to pass it up, then the both of you have to take three shots.

now looking back on it, you scoffed at yourself for not thinking to switch your seat. you should’ve known your sister was going to… fuck you over.

but, you can’t go back in time, and everyone had already agreed, nodding happily.

“Alright let's play.”

the game started off simple, small dares and obvious truths. the group couldn’t be sure of what to make of each other’s boundaries. but, like everything else in the world, they were pushed to their limits.

you had answered two questions and done one dare: down a whole bottle of vodka in thirty seconds. you failed. but, now, a new round had started and Yuuji was the forerunner.

“Yuuji.” [s.name] called, her voice trailing over the water like a fresh coat of paint. “truth or dare?”

the boy in question cut his eyes to her, a tension setting between them. you knew [s.name] was forming some sort of plan, but you couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

after some hesitation— mainly Yuuji objecting the question and grumbling to himself about [s.name] owning him something— he answered, meekly. “truth.”

Nobara shot up at the inclination, taking it as an invitation to mess with her boyfriend, “is it true you lost your virginity to Megumi?”

quiet reigned over the group, even you, the quiet and stoic hothead, were rendered speechless.

Yuuji on the other hand however was sputtering, his voice coming out jumbled and without full attention. “I— n— Nobara! you—you’re dating M—Megumi! how would I’ve lost my vir—virginity to him?!”

“that’s not an answer, Yuuji-kun.” she responded, lapping at the blush slowly creeping upon the pink-haired blunders face.

“n—no!”

everyone laughed, watching as Yuuji tried to shake the blush crossing his features. his entire neck was a shade of light pink.

you couldn’t care less, ‘why would you want to loose your virginity to another guy?’ now of course you kept these thoughts to yourself, not wanting to upset anyone but you just didn’t understand why or even how two guys do the do.

despite these thoughts, you still found yourself wondering how it would feel— no. you don’t care, you told yourself.

tuning back into reality, you saw Maki blushing, pointing at Toge, who was looking stoic all the same. “Just answer the question.” he edged her.

“n—no! I hate [s.name]!”

it finally clicked, Maki had a crush on your sister. you inwardly grimaced at this, not wanting to even think how two girls… ‘I mean who does the actual fucking?’ you asked yourself

“anyways, Sukuna’s turn!” [s.name] yelled, her voice laced with a malignant grin.

you looked at Sukuna, your eyes traveling over his body before locking on his thighs. ‘if I were to fuck a guy, it’d definitely be— wait, what the hell am I saying? this is Sukuna. he wouldn’t want to do it.’

it took a few seconds, but soon your words registered within your own head ‘AND NEITHER WOULD I!’

but, now that you were thinking about it, Sukuna alway seemed to be staring at you. I mean, not like a normal stare but the type of stare that you give to someone you wanna fuck. and whenever you two are together for longer than five minutes, he starts getting nervous and blushing like a horny schoolgirl.

“alright Sukuna! that’s two truths, now you’ve got to choose a dare.” [s.name] screeched. you winced slightly, rubbing you ear to rid it of your sister’s annoyance. “does anyone have a dare for Sukuna?” not even a second later, [s.name] continued, “good.” you deadpanned.

“now, Sukuna, I dare you to— your sister looked directly at you, her expression matching that of a black cat, mysterious and low— “sit in [name]’s lap. and not just sit, you have to straddle him.”

Sukuna turned a bright shade of pink, his body stiffening against the cold tiles of the pool. you looked at your sister through narrow eyes, she knew you weren’t gay. she knew you didn’t like guys but still pulled this.

“I’ll just drink—“

“that’s not your choice. it’s [name]’s”

you looked down, avoiding not only Sukuna’s but also your sister and everyone else’s gazes. you didn’t want to have him on your lap but… you also didn’t wanna take three shots.

‘fuckfuckfuckfuck.’ you were stuck, not knowing if you should weird out your best friend by telling him to sit on your dick or tell him to just drink three shots like it was nothing.

Sukuna touched your bicep, but pulled his hand back when he felt your muscles contract. “uhm— you—we can just drink. it—it’s f—fine, really [name].”

this was the first time you’d heard Sukuna stutter, was it because of the situation or just because he wanted to sit in your lap?

“[n—name]?” you shook your head and brought your hands to Sukuna’s waist. as much as you didn’t want another guy straddling your dick, there was something in you that want to know why Sukuna was stuttering all of a sudden. and if it was because of you, then how would it change things?

Sukuna slid through the water, his skin glistening against the brightly-lit moon behind his house. you pulled him onto you, slightly rubbing against the tip of your semi-hard cock. why were you hard?! was it Sukuna?! NO. no, no, no, it was because you hadn’t masturbated in over a week. yeah, yeah that’s what it was. and— and Sukuna had a really nice ass— wait! no! that came out wrong.

Sukuna had placed his legs on the sides of your thighs, steadying the both of you. ‘calm down. calm down. it’s alright, it’s your fault that you hadn’t touched yourself and Sukuna really did have a nice ass, better than some of the girls you’d dated in the past.

He wrapped his hands around your neck, pulling himself closer to you, further rubbing his ass against your cock. by this point, there was no way he hadn’t noticed your half—full—boner. but, he didn’t react, he was really quiet actually. just a small blush going across his face.

you shifted, moving yourself so that your back could support the newfound weight. this time Sukuna reacted. quite vulgarly. a moan escaped him, the sound violently sending your body into a violent malfunction.

‘fuck. that was hot. scorching even.’ you felt your cock harden even more, the tip poking at Sukuna’s clothed backside. he squandered against you before meeting your eyeline.

you almost came on the spot.

his face was flushed beyond recognition. tears pooling in the corners of his cornea, panting softly; his tongue hung slightly out his mouth, and his pupils—in your vision— had hearts in them.

he was also hard. harder than you—if possible—

his tip was pressing against your abdomen, making him squeal and squirm every time you did as much as breathe. you gulped, shifting your lower body to left to see his reaction.

he fell against your chest, suppressing his moan with his fist— oh, what you wouldn’t give to hear it— some of your friends looked at the two of you with questioning looks, but after a shrug from you, they resumed the game.

you leaned to Sukuna’s ear, his breathing labored and ragged with pleasure. you didn’t know what you were doing, you just knew it felt good, almost like lust had completely taken you over.

“you’re such a slut.” you pulled, watching as his shaking multiplied by the dozen, and he began softly thrusting his hips against you. “oh? do you like it when I tell you how everyone sees you? like a shameless slut?” suddenly, a surge of confidence rushed through you. your thoughts were plagued with the same repetition: ‘I’m doing this. I’m the one making the bold and outrageous Sukuna feel like putty.’ truthfully, you didn’t know if this was the truth or just your ego.

speaking of him, he was panting harder, his hips scrambling against you. he was chasing an orgasm you didn’t intend to let him have. placing your hands on his waist, you stopped his movements, “do you really want everyone to see how desperate you are? see how easy it is to make you cum? Sukuna let out a quiet sob, his eyes rolling back at the taunt, or was it the idea of actually getting caught? something that you quickly voiced to him: “or is it that you wanna get caught? want everyone to see me fuck you senseless? hm, I’d expect nothing less outta a slut like you.”

“m—m’not a s—slut!” he barked back, barely above his panting. you cocked you head to the side and smirked at him

“then why are you so close to cumming without anyone touching you?” you cut your eyes around the pool, quickly catching the eyes of Sukuna’s younger twin, Yuuji Itadori and your thoughts instantly ran away from you ‘if he’s anything like his brother, he’d be a good fuck.’ you shook your head at this ‘naw, he’s definitely an innocent one, would let you do anything you wanted.’

“m’not gon’ c—cum!” Sukuna combatted, trying to bring your attention back to him.

the prolonged eye contact with Yuuji hadn’t ended yet, he was still starting at you with half-lidded eyes, clarifying his intentions with you. ‘another time. another time to take his innocence and make him as sinful as those eyes he making at me.’

you turned your attention away with a wink, bringing your free hand to Sukuna’s swin trunks. “oh you’re not? then— you gently grabbed his tip through the fabric, twitching your muscles to jerk her up and down a few times— what’s this?” you finished

Sukuna bucked into your hand, trying so hard to cum. “not here.” you brought your hand back to your side and locked eyes with the Itadori. “do you want them to see? huh S’kuna?”

like the confidence coursing through you, the nickname also came out of nowhere, shocking the both of you.

“d—d’care! I don’t c—care! just fuck me!”

you were tempted, definitely tempted, but you had something Sukuna didn’t. dignity. “not right now, S’kuna. now be a good boy and cum for me.”

the sudden raspy nature to your voice made Sukuna moan, harshly thrusting his hips against you. and within seconds he came, the white ropes being trapped in by his swimwear. “ngh! nngk! [name]!”

the moans fell on deaf ears as you looked back past him and to his twin, maintaining another long session of eye contact. he was immobilized by your gaze, not able to do anything until you broke it to look at your sister.

“your turn [name]! truth or dare!”

you looked back at Yuuji one last time, cascading your tongue along your lips.

“dare, of course.”

#gay #sukuna #jjk x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #dom male reader #jujutsu yuji #yuji x male reader #part 1 #ooc

744 notes · View notes

slowandsteddie · 8 months ago

Text

Lazy Petals

AO3

Okay. This work is NOT completed. I cannot guarantee an update schedule because only the first chapter is completed. However, I DO have everything plotted out (assuming it doesn’t get a mind of its own) and the goal is to be 50k+ words.

This story is very personal to me. I’ve taken my grandparents love/live story and made it Steddie. The characters are going to be OOC. Just letting you know right off the bat in case that is something you aren’t interested in. Also, this is a No Upsidedown AU.

My grandparents were immediately obsessed with each other, but didn’t date until after they had graduated high school. Which means that while this isn’t a slow burn, it is going to be slower than the stuff I usually write.

I don’t want to give too, too much stuff away. There there is a post where I described the main highlights and asked your opinion on reading it. There is also a poll where I asked if I should start posting before it was finished, and I got a pretty definite yes.

I saved the divider that I plan on using for this series back when I first started talking about it. I have since lost my note that told me whom to give credit to. If you know who made it (or know how to find that information on mobile!!) please let me know.

I think that’s enough of a preamble. Without further ado, here be the CW’s and the first 3,489 words.

Content Warnings: Steve was hit by a car and in a full body cast for over a year - he makes a bowling joke about it, his parents are very distant, his grandparents got very distant after his injury and he doesn’t understand why, Wayne is very careful while babysitting to make sure that no one can accuse him of being inappropriate, mentions of his mom overmedicating him so he’s easier to deal with, mentions of how weak he got from being in the cast. And as always, let me know if I missed anything.

Steve didn’t remember much about that night.

His mother said that it was a blessing and refused to fill in any blanks for him under any circumstances.

His father, however, if he had drunk enough whiskey, would look at the six year old Steve as though he were a much older man and sigh before telling him anything he wanted to know.

Which meant that Steve knew that the car that hit him swerved in order to do so. (He didn’t know if the lady in the little blue car did it on purpose, or if she was a distracted driver. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that.) He knew that she had to have been going over forty miles per hour because the impact sent him flying at least a dozen feet before he slammed into that bus stop. He knew that the driver kept going and that at least half a dozen people ran to his aid and that one of the women had screamed because he was unconscious and she was so certain that he was dead. His little body was so broken and bloody and they couldn’t see him breathe.

He also knew that his father got to his hospital room before his mother, sweat pouring down the older male’s body as though he had showered in his clothes because he had run there from work. His mother showed up over twenty minutes later, all put together like she had taken the time to clean herself up before appearing. Something his father wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for. (This was one of the few times that his father would express just how much that he loved Steve, and he would carry that warmth with him forever.)

He knew that they had to revive him four times, that they had done twelve surgeries, that they had put him in a full body cast because nearly every bone in his body had been broken, including parts of his spine. He knew that his parents had been told that he would likely never walk again. He knew that a specialist had pulled his father aside to inform him that his brain wouldn’t develop normally after all of the trauma that it had been through after being smacked around in his skull. They’d have to be careful, and that they’d have to understand if he never progressed much past the age that he was now. That he could be in his fifties and still acting five and that there was nothing that could be done beyond what they had already done – remove a small part of bone behind his ear to help relieve the pressure and pray for the best while preparing for the worst.

And, while he couldn’t remember the absolute agony that he must have been in. He did have the descriptions that he used to tell his father. That there was lava in his veins and his bones were shards of ice cold glass threatening to tear him apart completely. His father had only told him that part once, with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you, boy. I couldn’t take the pain away. I would have died to save you even a fraction of that.”

That was one of the few times that he could remember his dad hugging him. He had been so careful and gentle while pressing his face into his hair. He inhaled deeply and he cried. And Steve had done his best to hug him back despite the plaster that made it near-impossible to move his arms at all.

At first, Steve had thought that it was really cool to be stuck in bed all the time. He didn’t have to do anything. That got boring within a week and he still had at least a year ahead of him where he was meant to stay in bed unless he was in the bathroom or at a doctor’s appointment.

Even eating in bed, something that had once been unacceptable and even punishable before, lost its novelty pretty quickly.

He liked having his mom read him notes from the teacher and his classmates. He liked her reading him his homework assignments and writing down his answers for him so that he would still be on track. It made him feel like an important man, like his dad was going to be, with a secretary.

The thing is, though, that he really missed going outside. He missed playing in the woods outside of the trailer park where he lived. He missed going to his grandparents house with the pool and the stairs that he’d probably never be able to walk again. He could climb them, though, after the cast was removed. He was pretty sure. He might not have a lot of muscle left at that point, but that would just mean that he was lighter and had less to have to move anyway.

When Steve brought that up to his mother, her lips would turn into a very tight, thin line and something he couldn’t name would flash in her eyes. “You are not going to go to that house any time soon, young man. It’s best to let those ideas go.”

“But I miss Grandma Marty and Grandpa Pete, and they won’t come here,” he whined.

“The Harrington’s won’t come to the trailer park and you know that.”

“We’re Harrington’s too,” he’d say defiantly.

She’d leave the room at that. Effectively ending an argument that they had had multiple times before. But what else did Steve have to talk about? He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to either, other than their neighbor that he had taken to calling Mister Wayne.

Wayne was probably a few years older than his dad and lived alone in a trailer that had always seemed so lively despite the quiet man who lived in it. He always had the tv or the radio on when he was home and Steve lived for that. Because his window was always cracked open for the breeze, which meant the sound could drift to him as well.

It was better than the quiet of his house that only seemed to get broken up with arguments and slamming doors. He was so used to it, but he still flinched every time and did his best to pull the blanket over his head as though that would muffle the sounds.

Sometimes, Wayne would come to his window and read him a book that his own nephew liked. The Hobbit. Steve fell in love with the adventure of it, and Wayne never seemed to mind reading him the same book over and over, a few pages at a time while he smoked.

More often than not, Wayne was the one who came over to babysit once he noticed that Steve had been left alone. He never once complained about it, never once gave someone else the chance despite all the ladies who would come over with food. And wine for his mom, when they could spare it.

Sometimes, Wayne would talk about his nephew. He was a scrawny kid, a few years older than Steve, named Eddie. Had a dark mop of long curly hair, and eyes that always seemed to have mischief in them. They’d like each other, Wayne was pretty sure, and he’d introduce them the next time that Eddie came to visit.

Steve would want to ask when that would be, but he never did. He had Mister Wayne and that was more than enough for him. His dad was staying later at the office, trying to prove that he deserved that promotion that would get them the hell out of the trailer park, without his parents' money. His mother was getting into yoga and book clubs, and Steve was being left alone a lot. Because, what kind of trouble could he get into when he was stuck in bed? Besides, the neighbors could hear if he shouted for anything and Wayne seemed very invested in making sure that he was okay.

Steve never knew why the older man made sure that his curtains were always wide open and that his light was on so that others could see that he was reading to him, or talking with him, from a chair that was always at least three feet away. Maybe it was so they would know he wasn’t alone? He wasn’t going to ask about it, not wanting to chance scaring away the one adult who never raised his voice at him, who never abandoned him when things got hard like his grandparents seemed to.

Months went by like this. His parents not being home, his grandparents not even calling about him, and Wayne doing his best to fill in the difference despite his own job. The other neighbors would come on occasion, but Steve was very sullen with them where he would laugh with Wayne. That didn’t deter them from coming over as he would have liked, and begrudgingly he found himself becoming friendly with a few of them.

It was the beginning of summer when Steve was finally able to get the casts removed. His father took him to the appointment, and he tried to not be disappointed that his mother wasn’t there at first. By the time he was wheeled out to the front of the office, though, his mother was sitting where his father had been.

He did his best to not look at himself. He was pale and scrawny and kind of stinky from not being able to wash himself properly because of all the plaster that had basically covered him for over a year. Most of his bones had healed great, according to the doctor. He wouldn’t know because he still hadn’t looked.

His father came back from wherever he had been, paid the bill with tight lips, and then took Steve out to the car. His mother helped him into the seat before covering him with a blanket that he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he was cold, he just didn’t want the chance to look at himself yet. He wanted to do that when he was home, where if he broke down and cried, no one else would know. Or, he wouldn’t have to see them knowing in any case. And that was enough for him.

They stopped for ice cream on the way and Steve asked for a small strawberry cone. Strawberry wasn’t his favorite, but it was what Grandma Marty had all the time, and he missed her even though she didn’t acknowledge him anymore. Wouldn’t answer his calls, wouldn’t call him back. He didn’t even know if she got the letters that Wayne had helped him write.

When they got home, Wayne wasn’t home. Not for the first time, Steve found himself deeply upset by that. He’d never voice it. Adults had responsibilities outside of him. And he knew that he only got about an hour with Wayne a day, maybe two if he was incredibly lucky.

His father came to help him out of the car, because he had more muscle if Steve should happen to fall. He clung to his father’s arm with all the strength that could muster as he walked like a baby giraffe toward their trailer. Well, he called it walking. It was more like wiggling his lower spine and hips while throwing his legs forward. After maybe five steps like that, he found himself being lifted into his father’s impatient arms as he was carried the rest of the way in and sat on the couch.

“Thank you,” Steve said instead of complaining about not being able to use his legs. He had wanted to walk, to prove that he could.

His father simply grunted in response before going to the kitchen to grab a drink. The same way he always did when he was home for the night.

His mother was inside a few minutes behind them, having stopped to talk to a neighbor briefly. She looked at Steve on the couch and tilted her head at him with a calculating look in her eyes.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes, please.”

This time, Steve did get to walk on his own two feet to the destination. He was leaning heavily on the wall, almost gripping on to it with one hand as he practically threw himself forward. He was breathless by the time that he got to the bathroom and pain seemed to radiate out through his entire body, starting at his tail bone.

“You can have some meds after your bath,” his mother said gently. “And I’ll get you your refill before dinner, okay? So you don’t have to worry about running out.”

Steve didn’t think it was time to refill his medicine yet, but he didn’t question it. His mom was on top of it. He was a kid who lost track of time a lot.

He sat on the toilet and he watched his mom prepare the bath for him, knowing that she would only let him have the water a little above room temperature. His skin was sensitive and the steam wouldn’t be good for him with the medicine that he was taking. He couldn’t even have hot food without the steam making him nauseous.

Carefully, he was pulled back to his feet and stripped of his clothes before he was helped into the tub that seemed to be more bubble than water. He sat down carefully, wincing a bit as he did so, before letting himself lean back in the water that felt warmer than it probably was because of his weakened, cool skin.

He sighed in contentment as his mother washed his body for the first time in what seemed like years. He was nearing seven years old and thinking about years in the past, it would make his dad laugh if he shared that thought with him, an idea that made him smile.

His mom washed his hair, tilting his head back and using a hand to make sure that no soap got in his eyes that he had squeezed tight. He got to play in the bubbles for a few minutes, his dad standing at the door as his mom got him some comfy clothes and a towel.

It was his dad who dried him off and helped him get into his clothes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said softly. He knew he was expected to thank his dad for everything he did that was above and beyond, which meant he ended up thanking him for everything.

Steve was carried back to his bed, something that he would have whined about if he wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. He was tucked in and his mom came to give him some toast and juice to take his pills with. He knew he was only meant to have one, but he took both that his mother gave him anyway. He washed it away with grape juice and half of the slice of toast she had brought him.

“Thank you, Mommy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, love,” she replied while kissing his forehead. “You had a big day today.”

Steve nodded in agreement, wishing that it could be that easy to just let the sleep overtake him. He closed his eyes as his mom left the room.

His father checked on him once a day, his mother gave him two pills instead of one, and made sure he at least had breakfast and dinner. One of the neighbors made sure he had lunch and new puzzles to work on, new toys to play with. Steve would wander around the trailer as best as he was able, and Wayne would read to him before he went to bed.

Days turned to weeks like that.

One day, Wayne wasn’t at work and both of Steve’s parents were gone. He wandered over to his bedroom window and opened it wide.

“Mister Wayne, if I can get to the front door, can you help me out?”

His walking was still unsteady and stairs were very difficult for him.

“Are your parents okay with you being outside?” Wayne asked sympathetically.

“Uh. Dad said I could as long as I either finished my puzzle or put it up first.”

Wayne gave him a knowing look. “Okay, you little hellion. But only because I know you’d hurt yourself trying to do it anyway.”

Steve beamed and closed his window most of the way before making his way to the front door. It was a struggle to unlock the door because of the latch chain, but he managed. Wayne was waiting there for him with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Getting outside used to be easier,” he sighed before reaching out.

“Maybe it’s the weight of knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be,” Wayne teased as he picked Steve up and set him back down on the ground.

“No idea what that means, but thank you for helping me pass the stairs.” Steve grinned widely, the dirt and grass squishing slightly beneath his toes. It felt so good.

“You’re welcome, brat.”

Steve giggled before doing his version of walking. He took maybe ten steps, very much aware of how closely he was being watched. His breath came a little harder from the effort, the times between walking so close together. Shakily, he sat down as carefully as he was able. Movement caught his attention and made his head snap up to look toward Wayne’s trailer.

“You gotta ghost!” He exclaimed.

Wayne laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s staying with me for awhile. Treat him like a skittish cat until he’s used to ya, and I’m sure y’all would be good friends.”

“Eddie,” Steve said happily. “Can he come out so I can meet him?”

“I’ll send him out after I smoke my cigarette,” he said as he put more distance between them before lighting up.

“Thank you!”

Steve laid down flat on the grass, spreading his arms and legs out as much as he could without the pain becoming unbearable. It wasn’t very far, but he didn’t care. He got to grip the green strands in his fingers. He got to feel the light and heat of the sun soaking into his skin and settling into his bones. He was beyond convinced that the bright yellow thing in the sky was much more healing than the meds that made him feel tingly from his head to his toes.

He must have fallen asleep like that, because next thing he knew he was being awoken by a toe nudging his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he was met by the most dark, beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne said you just got released from the mummy’s curse.”

“He said that?”

“Well. He said your name was Steve and you just got a full body cast removed a few weeks ago.”

“That sounds more like him.”

“So…What happened?”

“A lady tried to go bowling with me and her car. The only pin she knocked down was me.”

Eddie snorted. “Shoulda planted your feet more firmly, she woulda gotten a strike.”

Steve’s lips tugged into the widest smile that he had ever had on his face. “My parents don’t like it when I joke about it.”

“Parents are stupid.”

“Yeah. How long are you stayin’?”

“As long as I can.”

Steve hummed in thought. “You any good at reading out loud?”

“Depends. What book?”

“The Hobbit.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, his huge smile showing off the chipped front tooth. “My favorite book in the entire world? Yeah, I’m pretty good at reading it out loud.”

“We should read to each other. I have troubles with some words, but I am trying.”

“I’d like having someone to read and play with.”

“Oh, uh. Playing is hard for me right now. I’m still trying to get my strength back.”

“It’s okay. We read The Hobbit, we gotta have a pretty good imagination. We can pretend to play.”

Steve blushed and looked away. He never had someone his own age willing to work around his limitations before.

“I heard about a game with dice where we can talk out stuff and the dice decide how well it goes,” Steve said suddenly.

“Dungeons and Dragons!” Eddie apparently decided that he was tired of standing because he flopped down next to him at that. He rolled around in the grass before eventually settling on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I can find a way to make that work with just two people.”

“Oh.”

“Turn that frown upside down, friend. I like a challenge. We’ll make this work because it sounds like fun.”

Steve beamed.

Taglist (let me know if you want added or removed! I was just trying to get who I remembered to seem interested!):

@estrellami-1 @eriquin @epiclazershark @morganski-19 @ellaelsinore @y4r3luv @valinwonderland @thespaceantwhowrites @jackiemonroe5512 @spectrum-spectre @princessstevemunson @ghost--enthusiast @gothwifehotchner @kas-eddie-munson @auroraplume @salisbury-at-the-stake @currently-steddiebrainrot @finntheehumaneater @marshmellowpaint @littlewildflowerkitten @perseus-notjackson @sapphirecobalt-1 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gloomysoup @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steve x eddie #taking my grandparents love story and making it steddie #grandparents love story #lazy petals #no upside down au #read the cw #car accident aftermath #mention of medical abuse #let me know if i missed anything

50 notes · View notes