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nouearth · 2 months

Text

dancing with wolves.

pairing. glen powell x male reader.

word count. 8.8k.

summary. journeying from town to town provided glen a solitude he’d always dreamed of. however, since meeting you, it was all he could complain about.

content warning. smut, western!au, top!glen, yearning!glen, loner!glen, bottom!reader, prostitute!reader, love confession, established relationship, passionate love-making, gagging, deep-throating, handjob (r!receiving), blowjob (r!giving), spanking, overstimulation, milking, anal penetration, breeding.

Cases of whiskey and cider were stacked in a column of two. Six units per beverage, twelve in total as Glen triple-checked the count and label. Though he’d never made a mistake in his deliveries before, it was his vigilance that maintained his good repute amongst the townsfolk. His attentiveness and efficiency in deliveries allowed for trust to be built between him and the towns he’d distribute to.

Months and more, the head of these establishments he’d work with didn’t seem to mind Glen’s uptight and reserved nature. Rather, they were used to it. Penned him as ‘Gunpowder’ because of their inability to see through him, as if the smoke from deflagrated gunpowder had impaired their vision.

As long as the goods were delivered in mint condition, who was to complain that the brooding man marched right on out after receiving his payment without uttering a single word?

Not to mention, his sturdy build was a warning itself to those who’d dared.

“Nearly doubled the shipment from last time.” It was an observation noted to himself. A low mutter that the owner of the saloon caught with a smile, because frankly, the mustached man was known to run the folk’s ears off.

There was a reason why he owned a saloon, and not Glen.

He dropped his payment into his drawstring bag and tucked it into the inside pocket of his shirt. Crime was growing rampant, even in a bustling town like New Vale where a dust storm couldn’t ward off its folks from drinking into the night. Glen wasn’t sure what to make of it. Whether to call them idiots for ignoring the highly alarming signs of bandits gradually killing their way to the west, or brave for living their lives without a single regret.

One would’ve had the same vacillation between labeling Glen as an idiot or a man, for traveling 40 miles and more in his saddle, while the threat of murders loomed over his head. “God damn, I did! Business been growin’ ever since we’d expanded to include the whores. The fellas can’t keep their hands off of them!” Glen’s ears pricked up from the way the shorter man described the main attraction to his saloon. The man was practically ascending to heaven, tugging on the straps of his suspenders to ground him to the wooden flooring while he boasted about how much of a brilliant man he was for charging patrons by the hour, and taking a percentage of a prostitute’s pay.

All Glen could do was watch in stoic disgust while the man relished in his own pride, in his own greed.

Though, only for a few seconds before a feeling of guilt and shame took over Glen’s conscious, calling him out on his hypocrisy, on this selfish desire that all the men in the saloon had collectively shared.

He wasn’t much of a better man than the drunkard swaying in his seat, completely shit-faced with a shot glass in his grasp.

Glen tucked his hands into his pockets, leaned to the man’s ear, and lowered his voice to a hush. “The boy in today?”

Coincidentally, he felt a spare coin in his left pocket. The silver ridges scorched his skin like it had come straight from the devil’s fountain, prodding his urges.

“Should be cleaning out back, but I’ll let ‘em know you’re here. You know his room.” The man collected the single coin with a smug grin and tipped his hat. “Nice doing business with ya, and… get y’self a drink. On the house. I’m beginning to treasure your presence.” The march of his steps out to the back were resonant, even with the ragged rhythm of the piano blaring in Glen’s ears as he walked for the stairs.

- - -

The room was left as Glen remembered it.

The thin walls closed in on the oil lamps mounted on the walls. It didn’t take much to light up the room. As bright as candles could be lit, it only emphasized how truly compact the space was. Glen couldn’t imagine that no more than two men could be comfortable standing in this lodging, let alone reside in it. Luckily, Glen was a simple man. He hung his coat on the wall and took his boots off, a much needed relief from the compression at his feet, and he felt satisfied sitting on the miserable mattress. Not from the space, no. Not when he could hear other patrons like him revel in their own pleasure, albeit muffled by the thin walls.

No. It was because he got to see his boy again. Twice a month, like how it had been for almost a year now, and Glen could feel the two weeks of labor thanking him as a huge weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders.

Traveling from town to town and shipping out whiskey and cider didn’t take much of a toll on his body like herding cattle, but it was uninspiring. Sight-seeing was tranquil, but the sun was beating down on him harder this month. It was tiring. Always on his saddle, on his feet, and now with the threat of robberies ramping, on the defensive, all without so much of a break.

It was lonely.

And though it was his own fault, it made the moment of seeing his boy all the more special.

Touching you was even more cathartic than he’d like to admit.

Two hard knocks, a beat, then three more, and the door opened.

“You sleepin’ already, Bighorn?” You teased, chuckling to yourself when you could see Glen rise from his position as you locked the door.

Bighorn. The endearment made Glen chuckle.

Glen watched you come into the light as his elbows supported his body, legs extended to stretch the tight muscles in his thighs and calves. A button-up and suspenders, your typical attire as a novice cook. It had to be illegal to look this striking in hand-me-downs covered in flour.

“A second longer, and I would’ve demanded for a refund.” Glen quipped with a simple grin. It was all natural, his body responding to your approach by gathering himself onto his feet. You worked him in mysterious ways. Every step you took, Glen met you half-way.

Yearn weighted Glen’s heart to match the heaviness of your boots scraping against the floor until you stopped. He stopped in his tracks after, your wide smile reflecting off of his simpler grin, and Glen remained silent, taking you all in with the removal of his hat.

It wasn’t the first time his eyes ever tracked a man, nor was it the first time his heart ever sped up, but you had this power, this presence, that made him feel anew with the way you looked at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest close to his own.

Surely, he knew he wasn’t going crazy feeling like his affection for you had shot up like a bull for the past month. And the month before that.

And the month before that.

“And I would’ve made it up by makin’ sure you get the best sleep of your life. How’s that sound?” You met his eye level, unabashedly smiling wider than you had ever greeted him before.

He felt flat, like he’d been hit by the train itself. A sharp jolt that sent goosebumps all over his skin, and it was like you read into his soul, because your hands roamed around his body, warding off the tiny prickles over his skin with a caress to his broad chest, over his forearms, against his neck.

It didn’t take long for Glen to realize you were the curator of the bumps on his skin.

“Sounds like an overpromise...” Glen chuckled along with you, his larger hands feeling up your waist, backside, then to your arse, where they felt perfectly at home in his palms. His gaze was just as curious, peeking at the collar of your shirt that revealed the smallest amount of your neck. To your lips, marveling over ruby flesh he’d often daydream about while riding across the plains.

It was becoming a routine. Where the weeks leading up to the end the month felt like the world had a vengeance against you, and this month was surely taking out its worst out on you.

“You got a haircut.” Glen noticed the shorter length of your hair, pushing it back with a swoop of his hand. He then took ahold of your jaw, maneuvering it cheek by cheek to stoically marvel over your cut.

“Was gettin’ hot. Boss man didn’t like how it collected sweat.” Your fingers worked around his collar, unfurling the fold, then folding it back into place. “You like it?”

“I can see your face clearer. You look good.” Glen’s fingers raked through your hair once before messily ruffling it. You responded with a shove to his chest, knocking him back onto the bed with an unexpected laugh. “Guess I didn’t need to worry about whether you were eating or not. Christ, you gettin’ stronger too.”

A dull ache settled in his chest. He wanted to say something more than, “You look good.”

No, it fit you. The trimmed hairs on the sides matched how blunt you could be.

“You bring any gifts for me?”

“You’re sweaty, and that makes me aroused.”

“You pushing 40. That only makes me want you even more.”

“No one can fill my mouth like you do, Glen.”

On the contrary, it also framed your face like you were an angel who didn’t spout nonsense that would render him speechless. Though, he’d gotten used to that now. It made you all the more endearing, how someone could look as passive as you, have a mouth like that.

“Bastard’s been pushing more tasks onto me since business been growing. Same pay too. Man is too cheap to hire another employee. Don’t think I look any different though.” It took all the energy out of him to not sigh when you straddled his lap. He was swelling nicely beneath you, harder and thicker the more you rut your arse against him. “Or… maybe you’re just getting weaker?”

Glen rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so cocky, boy. Wouldn’t want me to beat it out of you, would you?” Your breath hitched when his palm struck down on your left ass cheek as a warning. It was effortlessly done, yet the subtle sting was more than enough to pull a groan out of you.

You brazened yourself, narrowing your eyes into his drawn gaze as you leaned closer, and pulled him halfway up by the collar. “Not if you call that a beatin’.” Your lips grazed against his, and just when Glen leaned closer, you pulled away and resumed your ruts, pushing your arse back onto his palms simultaneously.

“You gon’ regret that.” It was animalistic. The way you drove your hips into him, and the way Glen desperately responded back, groping your ass hard and pushing you flushed to his groin, to the weight of his bulge. He buried his groans into your neck, biting a patch of skin that would draw out whimpers in between your taunts.

“I ain’t regret nothin’-“ A loud yelp slipped from your mouth. His palm suddenly came down on your ass again. Harder, like the snap of lighting had bit into your skin. It shuddered you to think that it had hurt as much as it did while you were clothed. Yet, that didn’t stop you from unbuckling and drawing out your belt, and then Glen’s.

“That the best you got? Like a bee-sting. I ain’t impressed.” You muttered into his neck, kissing at the hot flush of skin after stripping you and Glen down to undergarments. Gradually, you worked his top off, licking and kissing every show of skin that would meet your lips, until he was deliciously bare-chested before you.

“I’ll break your damn ass if I have to.” Glen said through gritted teeth. His arms were folded behind his head, cushioning it while he watched your mouth worship every contour of his body like he was a king. Your mouth would latch onto one side of his ribs, suckling on a freckle, while the other admired his abdomen with several, drunken strokes. It took the trail of his stomach hair to pivot your mouth lower, to slip your hand into the opening of his drawers until it was inevitably full with Glen’s semi-hard cock, meaty and thick in your palm.

“You spendin’ the night?” Your ears perked up at the sound of his groans, your gaze followed the source. He was clearly desperate for more than the laze of your strokes as your grasp was loose and open, favoring to feel around his cock than against.

“That’s what I paid for.” His hips bucked once you began massaging his cock, throbbing harder in the palm of your hand.

“I’ll make sure it’s worthwhile, then.” With one hand continuing to knead at the tender muscle, you stripped the drawers off of his body, tossing it onto a pile of clothing in the corner.

“Look at me when you talkin’.” It came out more aggressive than he’d like it to, but your eyes lit up when he caught your gaze, a smoldering smile plastered across your face while you stroked him with your knees pressed to the mattress.

“You stressed or what? Don’t usually talk like this to me.” Stripping yourself bare, you resumed tending to his cock after, gulping at the unholy sight of the meaty tool drooling with a thick and ample amount of pre-cum that would surely stain the flooring if you hadn’t caught the sticky rope with your tongue.

You looked extra handsome tonight, Glen thought. Maybe it was the haircut working wonders on him. Making him act all crazy like he’d been bewitched. One strand of hair fell delicately over your forehead when you spat on his cock, and had your grasp around him not remind him, he would’ve forgotten to breathe.

“Just been thinking about my boy. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You lapped up his cock while he struggled to pour out his words. It was like molasses, the way he’d pause himself to say the right thing so he wouldn’t scare you. Coincidentally, you seemed to be enjoying the taste of his pre-cum like it was molasses as well, sucking it out him with sunken cheeks.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about filling that filthy mouth of yours with even more filth.” He hissed as you began tonguing his slit.

“Y’know how much I love the taste of your seed.” You dragged your tongue over the head, polishing it with several needy sucks, while your gaze maintained on his. One hand was wrapped around the shaft to hold Glen steady, and the other was cupped around his heavy balls, stretching and fondling the loose stretch of skin.

“I know. You like how it’s warm in your mouth, don’t you?” The grasp around his thick cock tightened. Fingers pressed into his veins, stroking the aroused muscle while your mouth worked on his glans, plump and swollen against your lips.

“And how salty it is. Taste better than your whiskey.” Sweat and musk had built up in the thick hairs of his pubic, in the crevice of his glans as you inhaled his scent. The smell of his cock made your own swollen unbearably hard.

“You like my cock too. Like how heavy it is on your tongue.” He had his fingers running through your hair, keeping any strands from obscuring your eyes as you watched him, just as he had been watching you.

“Nothing better than feelin’ my dirty mouth stretch because of the size of it. Can barely wrap my hands around your tool. My asshole struggles too, if not more.”

You loved sucking on the head. It was tender in your mouth, leaking with salt that made your tongue dance into the slit for more. It was beautiful to look at too. Every now and then, you’d slip him out of your mouth to marvel over the glistening view of his cock, swollen in your own spit.

“Yet it don’t stop you, does it? You keep sucking with that hot mouth of yours. Fucking with that tight ass of yours.” He sat up to stretch his hand from your neck and then down to your spine, repeating the affectionate gesture when he’d reach the limit of his mobility.

“Your cock is my liquor.” You held his gaze with pride, proudly slapping his wet cock across your cheek, against your lips, onto your tongue, because you weren’t ashamed for desiring men.

You weren’t ashamed for needing Glen.

No amount of prejudice can suppress your very existence.

“You doin’ a whole lot of talking, and not a lot of sucking.” His hand was strong on the back of your neck, massaging as if it would warm your throat up.

You purred, finding the increasing pressure on your neck welcoming as it naturally opened your mouth back up. Your tongue teased Glen for a little longer. Patience had been wearing thin, you could see it in his eyes as they hardened over the lazy trail of your tongue, unbearably sliming at the underside of his heavy cock. His grasp on your neck was clutching, pulling at your tender skin to maneuver you north and wrap your mouth back around him. But you were resisting. You were going to suck his cock on your own terms, on your own accord, flaunting your tongue over his stiffened pole to warm him up because you had all night with him.

You were beautiful like this, working your spit over his cock with your hand, while you silently leaned up for a kiss. He granted those rubies of yours a chaste peck, then another to the dried drool at the corner of your mouth, then another, a fulfilling kiss to your mouth that had drawn out simultaneous groans from the both of you because it was unapologetically more than lust.

You stroked his cock harder, to the warmth of his tongue as it slipped inside of you, keen to explore the cavern that had made his cock feel so glorious, to explore the mouth that often sent Glen into a spiral simply from his own imagination after the very minute he would depart from you.

His heart was beating, accelerating like it had soles to run on, and all it took was the palm of your hand caressing his chest in soothing swoops to ground him back to reality, to the kiss that had been broken in favor of you returning back to your original position between his legs, mouth agape and taunting as ever.

“Only because I want you to hear what it sounds like when I’m swallowing your cock.“ With those final words, you slid his cock into your mouth without letting your gags falter you.

His cock was heavy, maintaining the girth from base to tip as you took more of him after every cycle. Tears brimmed in your eyes when you’d choke on one attempt of slotting him down your throat. Then they dripped, rolled down your supple cheeks, when you’d work yourself through your gags until your throat closed in around his tool. You’d lie there with your throat stuffed to the brim, your lips clamped shut from the very base despite the fur of his pubic hairs tickling your lips to open back up.

Your ears rattled from your conscience begging you to end your torture, but watching Glen marvel at that mouth of yours made you endure the looming threat of fainting all the more worthwhile.

“Christ.” Drool spilled from either side of your mouth as Glen helped you stabilize with a palm to your nape. He gently pushed at the sound of your gags, keeping you situated against his groin in case you’d pull away. “You know how to make a man happy, don’t you?”

“Mmfgh—“ It was pointless responding, but Glen expected it. You always had to get the last word. The last sound.

He maneuvered you by the neck, pulling you back then forward again, your throat making ungodly sounds around his cock in midst of doing so. Occasionally, he’d meet you halfway and thrust himself into your gags, churning the arising saliva that foamed in your mouth back down your air duct, making you choke in the process.

“You miss my cock that much, boy?”

“Mmff-guh!”

He’d pull you back just in time, his cock releasing from the tight hold of your throat like a cork barricading liquor, and you didn’t waste a single second to fill your lungs again with the arousing air.

“You gon’ kill me with that thing, bastard.” Your spit resembled fizz that would spew out from opened cider. Glen kept it to himself, but he thought you looked dashing like this. Flushed in the face, cheeks stained by dried tears, nostrils stung with sniffles, you’d collect your composure quickly after, brazen yourself as if nothing had happened, but from the tremors in your hands, you were dismantled despite working your hand on him again.

“Too much for you?” He asked, reaching over with a hand to knead at the center of your throat. Glen didn’t show many moods, but you were well aware when he was either aroused, angry, or concerned, simply by the movement of his brows.

You lifted your chin upon the warm of his hand greeting you, grinning at the raise of the man’s brows. “I jest. Too much? Yes. But that’s the fun in it. Not knowing when to stop because I’m so addicted to you.”

“Should be a poet. You’d know how to charm people with your words.” He sighed into your mouth when he pulled you over, kissing you delicately while one hand lowered to gather his cock and yours in one hold, stroking the throbbing masses.

Glen was never too fond of feeling like this.

This warmth that was similar to downing liquor, yet not quite as strong or as scorching as to the sensation of aged spirit burning his insides.

It was foreign. The heat liked to spread around his body, the aftermath of hot rain he’d reckon. It was steaming inside of him. Pleasant and restful while his muscles eased. He felt like those biscuits he’d eaten for morning, noon, and evening. Buttery, warm, and pillowy.

That feeling only happened when he was with you.

It was unnerving how much power you held over him without you even realizing. How he’d weaken under the light of your smile, or even the dazed stare of your eyes, where Glen often found himself concerned with for the remaining month as the shadows beneath your eyes would grow with every visit.

You shouldn’t have that effect on him, because no one has managed to ignite such feelings inside of him. Yet you have, effortlessly so, without missing a single beat, and it was alarming to realize that his solitude had become unbearable since you’d came into the picture.

Frightening, where his solitude would feel like abandonment had something ever happened to you.

“Poets don’t make a home.” You whispered lightheartedly before breaking into soft, hushed moans, where Glen would happily devour as you resumed kissing him with tongue, running your hands over his muscles in meantime.

“And whoring yourself out does?” He sat up, pulling away to raise a questioning brow.

It was naive of you, but Glen knew better than to lecture you in the meantime. He hadn’t seen you in a month and he wasn’t letting a simple discourse interrupt that.

You shrugged, kissing at the underside of his jaw after he pulled you onto his lap. His hands were on your hips, his cock rubbing between your ass cheeks. “No, but at least I get fucked hollow out of it.”

“Forget what I said. If your mouth is this vulgar, I can’t imagine what you’d write on paper. You’d end a famine with folks dying from shock at your smut.” Without warning, one finger slipped inside of your hole. You clenched from surprise, but eventually welcomed him in with the languid kisses Glen would provide on your neck, on your shoulders, and on your chest.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” You arched forward into his embrace, pushing your ass out as Glen twisted another finger inside of you, stretching your hole with two fingers. “I saved the world…” You moaned out in a manner that sent tremors down Glen’s spine. To his cock, when he stuffed another finger inside of you, and curled deep into your resistance. “Don’t do too much. Wanna feel you.”

“You silly.” The keening sound you give out rendered him speechless, along with the dew of your body and face, thinly layered with cold sweat of your own desires. Your hands braced on Glen’s shoulders as he pistoled his fingers inside of you for a little longer. Twisting, spreading, turning, curling, throttling, until you begged for him, in whispers, in hot kisses that muffled your sounds incoherent.

But Glen was an attentive man; tasting your tongue to feed off of your words, urging you to repeat with a smack to your ass. You would, desperate and delirious as you pushed your ass into the sting of his palm.

“Can’t take it anymore. I need you inside of me. C’mon.” You reached behind to stroke his cock with your spit, simultaneously pressing his shaft between your rump.

“You actin’ like you don’t get hollowed out daily.” Glen’s touch was tender on your cheek, holding the left side delicate in his palm, while his hips moved against your hand and grind, taunting your patience.

“Not like this. Always thinkin’ about you when someone else fucking me. They don’t do it like you.” It came out as a whine, a needy sound as you angled his wet cockhead against your pucker, dangerously pressing when you lifted your hips.

“They don’t satisfy you like I do.” A statement, rather than a query.

“They don’t...”

Glen was good at casting doubt on people.

Lies were often evident through the eyes. Novice liars either looked away, or stared too intensely like they were trying to convince themselves.

Your gaze yearned, lingered in search for Glen’s blessing. He held your gaze for a moment, catching a glimpse of stars in your pupils like he wasn’t aware that it was the candles’ doing. Getting lost in your eyes wasn’t warding off the warm feeling in his body. Rather, it began manifesting a smolder, burning more despite kissing you once to fan it away, to make the light in your eyes—the way you looked at him disappear.

He pulled away quickly to look into your eyes again. Burning now, he was burning.

Again, his lips sealed over yours, and then he pulled back to stare.

The stars winked.

Again.

A few morphed as one, seemingly emptying the space in your pupils.

Again.

No, Glen was wrong. They weren’t emptying space.

And again.

They were creating space.

He began witnessing the birth of a few more stars after every turn, crystal-like as they glimmered in your pupils once you smiled at his behavior.

Glen was in silent hysteria, finding himself spiral from one look you’d given him. It was different. Completely unlike anything you’d ever spared him. It felt true. Pure. Honest.

Loved.

There was no way out. He couldn’t find a way to escape if he’d tried. Burying his face into your neck didn’t work. You smelled like bread dough, ones you’d been kneading in the back of the kitchen. Ones he had eaten and marveled over before even meeting you.

Simply closing his eyes had no effect either, as your hand was on his cock, chasing after the throbbing with patient strokes.

“They don’t.” Glen repeated after you, a confirmation into the underside of your jaw.

Glen was never a man who lost. At least, he never lost without putting up a fight. When he spared you one more glance at the sound of your groan, he felt himself crumble and completely melt. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. Feel himself melting until all that was left was for bone to be rattled with as you sank yourself back onto his lap, hands braced on his shoulders while you welcomed his cock inside of your cavity, inch by inch

“You’re an angel, y’know that? Every time I see you, I feel like my sins been washed away.” Glen ran a finger along your taut rim, marveling over the way you looked right now, bouncing on his cock, over his lap, your cock swinging in for the ride. He harbored his moans into the crook of your neck, fogging your skin with the warmth of his breath, until you’d break into cold sweats.

“Ironic, ain’t it? What loving a man can do?” You groaned and grunted with exertion as you worked your way lower in tiny thrusts. “They don’t make love to me like you do, just as I don’t make love to them like I do for you. ” You confessed with conviction, and let gravity weigh you down onto Glen’s cock, taking him into your sturdy body. “Only you.”

Glen didn’t hear that right, did he? Loving someone? It was difficult to concentrate with the way you were working his cock. It was a glorious feeling being back inside of you, compact and warm like how he’d remember breaching you.

You felt so stretched, uncomfortably yet pleasantly filled when you’d lift your hips until only the cockhead remained, and rammed his cock back in with a strong drop of your ass. Your forehead rested on Glen’s, and you could feel every puff of breath he’d exhale. Hear the restraints in his panting as you tied your arms around his neck, and let your weight push him flat onto his back, properly straddling him.

“You love me? What you talking ‘bout?” He didn’t have the will to stop you. You were so eager, absolutely high on your arousal as you rode his cock with desperate rhythms, but he needed to address the revelation, for his sanity.

First off, you beat him to the punch. Had it originally played out in his mind, Glen was the one to confess about his feelings, not you.

“What? I-I ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout that.” It must’ve slipped. You didn’t know when, or how, or maybe Glen was a mind reader because you definitely didn’t say that, did you? You rocked your lower body in quicker ruts, hoping it would distill any remaining questions, and looked off to the corner, silently cursing at yourself.

“You’re lying.” His grip on your hips was sudden, making you come to a pause.

“I ain’t lyin’—“ Your brows furrowed, exasperated at the interruption. Luckily, Glen’s cock was still hard inside you, somehow throbbing even more as you witnessed something clicked within him.

Glen took ahold of your body, arms secured around your waist, before stepping off the bed and carrying you to the lone rocking chair in the corner of the room. “So, you hate me?”

“What? No, I don’t hate you. You—I—Glen, put me down.” You groaned when Glen sat down on the chair, the position driving his cock impossibly deeper into your body.

He refused despite your attempt in wriggling yourself free. You were strong, but Glen was stronger, tightening his arms around you. “Then what is it? I want to know how you feel before I feel like a fool for loving you too.”

Though, not like he had to hold you with much strength considering your bewilderment stunned you in place. “What? You love me?”

“You tellin’ me you don’t know? What was all that “makin’ love” speech about?” He was just as perplexed as you were. His chest felt heavy with disappointment. He’d been overthinking it, hadn’t he? Glen was a liar, someone who tried to convince himself of the impossible.

“It felt like you were making love to me. Don’t mean that I thought you actually did.“

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

A deafening silence as you two stared at each other. You were about to leave his lap, only for him to bound you back to him at the last second.

“Well, I do. I love you.” Glen stated matter-of-factly, a peculiar tone to his official confession, you couldn’t help but chuckle at it.

“Bighorn…” You sighed, surrendering into his arms with the slouch of your body, your chest colliding onto his. Frankly, the thought of being with Glen made you happy, yet nervous at the same time. “You know it don’t matter whether I love you or not. Nothing is gonna happen beyond this. Nothing can happen, unless you wanna risk your life. Mine too.”

“That’s something I’m willin’ to do. I’ve risked my life traveling plains, through towns, carrying expensive liquor. Nothing I won’t do for you.” Your heart felt like a pond with thrown rocks skipping across the surface of water.

“Absolutely not, and that ain’t the same. How you gon’ love me when you’re ten feet underground because of the fact that you love me?” You crossed your arms, frowning at his persistence because… well, it was working. More rocks began breaking the solitude of the pond.

“From the heavens, hopefully. Can leave you with my horse. Got a ranch back at home too. Can leave you with that. You’d have a house like you’d always wanted. Carry on with my business.” Pure dreams. That was all they were. Dreams.

“That’s only if I ain’t buried with you, Bighorn.” As much as you seemed resistant to Glen’s imaginations, you found yourself picturing a better life for you as you buried your head into his neck, listening to his tales. Living on a ranch like he’d described. Cattle and sheep would run free while you struggled to keep up with Glen as you joined him on this new lifestyle. It would be hard work, but by dawn, you’d slip into bed with Glen after dinner, and deem that it was all worth it in the end.

“At least we’ll be together, one way or ‘nother.” He kissed you at your neck, laving your skin in the weakest kisses, almost like he was beginning to surrender to your defiance. “So, you love me? You love me too?”

“I—Bighorn—Glen…”

He’d come a long way since you’d met him. Describing him as quiet was an understatement. He refused to make small talk when you led him into this room for the first time. It was a quick exchange, a shameful one as Glen power walked out of the saloon without sparing you a single glance. Now, he often spent nights with you, refusing to let go of you even in the deep of his slumber. In retrospect, you could’ve left when you had the chance. You had many opportunities even, to find a better life in the next town, and the next.

The thought of having Glen disappear from your life felt like death itself, so you didn’t, knowing that he would eventually down the line.

A year later, and he hasn’t.

Love makes you do crazy things.

“You know I love you, Glen.” You rubbed his chest sweetly, forewarning him of the disappointment you’d never relieve him from. Tears formed at your waterline, threatening to leak, so you pressed your face deep into his neck, wiping them against his skin. Your heart felt heavy, like it wanted to burst out of your chest to stop you from pushing him away. It would’ve killed you, but at least it would’ve saved Glen the disappointment. “I love you too. I’m glad we sorted that out, but we—”

“No, stop. No more. I love you.” He cut you off with a sudden kiss, whispering into your mouth after. “I love you, and I need you, you understand me?” His palm was back on your rump, kneading at the tender, yet toned flesh, while the other hand pressed his growing erection back to your pucker again, prodding. “No more buts.”

“But—“ Your breath hitched when he slid himself in again, stretching you out like before, yet it felt like an endless slide, digging all the way into the deepest part of your body, like Glen was going to cradle your heart, until he was rooted deep inside of you, balls flushed to the cleft of your ass.

“(M/N), I’ll take care of ya. Whatever happens, I’ll take care of it, you hear me?” Glen cradled your head, kissing at your cheek while you returned to burying it in between his shoulder and neck. “Let me see you.”

“H-hmm, m-mhm—“ His cheeks burned as you made those wanton noises in midst of revealing yourself before him. Flushed in the face, cheeks stricken with tears; one would’ve mistaken you to be ill. Though, in a way you were. You’d been struck by incurable illness that was love.

Glen clicked his tongue, frowning in wonder. “So, so, so pretty. You look so pretty.” He began thrusting into you, resuming where you two had left off. “You look even prettier now that I’m making love to you, you know that?”

“You love me.” You bit your lip, holding back moans because you needed to hear it from Glen again, hear of his devotion for you.

“I love you.” He whispered through grunts, spreading your ass cheeks wide, and you pressed your body forward, arching your ass out as his thrusts ramped up. His cock slammed up into you with raw passion, devoting his remaining strength to holding your ass up, and making himself work for you, all in the name of love.

“I love you.” You repeated between needy whimpers. You soon began to bounce up and down, hands braced on Glen’s shoulders, while you joined his thrusts with your own movements, meeting him halfway. His large cock reared you from behind like a hammer to a nail, pummeling you without break, without the chance to let you breathe.

It was rather the opposite, to knock the breath out of you.

You watched close, mouthing at Glen’s neck, then jaw, until you reached his lips, where you’d let hungry moans delicately fall into place. Glen found you breathtaking as you lost your mind with primitive lust.

“You belong to me, you hear me?” Glen said simply, his features calm. “No one else fucks you like I do.”

Your arms tightened around his neck for a hug. Glen seemed absolutely serene in his love, with you on his lap, fucking yourself into his cock. On the other hand, you were absolutely wrecked. Glen was fucking you harder, knocking guttural moans out of you on each thrust. Your own hole clenched when Glen lifted your ass up, pulling his cock completely out of you until you were squeezing nothing but warm air. He’d expertly dip a finger inside of you, to feel how stretched you were, play with your rim because of how swollen it had gotten, before stretching you back to capacity as he brought you back down on his cock, and onto his upward thrust.

“No one makes love to me like you do.” You panted through his batter, each syllable of word rattling in volume as you had absolutely no sense of it. Glen hummed in agreement while he fucked your ass and jerked your cock all at once. He was taking care of you.

You knew what he meant in the long run; tending to your injuries if you’d happen to fall off his saddle, hosing you down with water when you’d take a dive in the lake, feeding you the last bit of his biscuit because he never liked seeing you hungry. A life far from neglect as Glen had made you realize that you and him shared the dream.

But for now, he was taking care of you. Meticulously so as Glen remembered all the spots that made his tongue taste sugary when you’d moan in his mouth. Glen’s thumb caressed your frenulum, using the pre-cum your cockhead had been spitting to slip his touch in the tightest crevices. The pad of his thumb sailed smooth over the neck of your glans, flicking, pressing, rubbing at the swollen flesh of skin. You sounded so sweet and looked so serene under Glen’s touch, a complete antithesis to how you’d normally present yourself.

Glen was familiar with the roll of your eyes; from the way you’d interact with displeased customers at the bar, or from his demand to hold you throughout the night. But would you hold it against him if Glen revealed that he preferred seeing the whites of your eyes from being fucked impeccably in the ass? With his thick cock, battering your insides until you’d remember the shape of his cock? The motion of it all, digging deep into your ass, into your guts, pummeling through your need to clench hard around him, failing to pause him from hitting that sweet spot, or else you’d spill. Your hands curled into his chest as they were braced on the sweaty surface, and you’d never felt so desired, especially with your reflection in the vanity staring right back at you, providing you a simple glimpse of how beautiful you looked to Glen.

You’re a dirty bastard, Glen reckoned you’d confront him with, only before bending over the mattress and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You lucky that I’m as well, Bighorn.

No. No, you wouldn’t hold it against him.

You were perfect.

“Close.” You warned, then dropped your head lower to kiss him on the lips, spilling your moans into his mouth in midst.

Your hips bucked into his fist while simultaneously rocking back into Glen’s cock. His hold on you was secure, clutching to keep you as close to him as possible. You toyed with your nipples, pinching and tugging on them, and Glen accepted those gestures as a silent invitation for him to wrap his lips around one nub at at a time, suckling on the perky bud until you’d gone swollen. You’d join his lips for another kiss in gratitude, thanking him with your tongue as it explored his warm mouth, licking into his panting, his grunts, his devotion for you. You swallowed his spit after, and your fate with Glen was sealed and optimistically beyond your control.

“You look like an angel right now, but your hole’s the devil. Squeezing around my cock like this, holding me so tight like you’re afraid I’m ‘bout to pull out of ya. Christ, you’re so tight. You my dirty angel. My sweet devil.” His hand had abandoned your cock in favor of taking your ass into both palms and spreading them like before, fucking his cock up into you.

Your eyes shared pleasure with his, only your pupils had seem blown since he’d started angling his hips in a way that sent tremors to your body. With your cock in your hand, you gazed down at Glen with dazed passion, lips parted to warn, yet only little sounds had come out instead. “Glen. Christ—“ His cockhead tickled your sweet spot at first, a brief brushing that you didn’t think much of other than the fact that it made your body tremble. But Glen persisted, shifting his body against your gorgeous, helpless, and needy body, and fucked your tight body with force, teeth-bared, sweat beading on his forehead. Your mouth fell open, and your face slackened with unadulterated pleasure. “Damn you, I’m gonna come—“

Glen shuddered, witnessing your gaze blur in and out in an attempt to focus on him as he was on the brink of his control himself. “Do it,” he urged you. “I want you to. Come from my cock. Gonna come too, inside of your hole.”

You wailed when Glen’s strong thighs slammed into your sweaty ass. A thunder of delicious sounds: your wails and his growls, the bruising smacks of flesh to flesh, the hard rocking of the chair, scraping against the floor; they created a symphony that was nearing a crescendo. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Glen pounded up into you, and your ears blared with sounds of Glen’s pleasure. Your fist pumped your cock until your forearms began to burn, veins pulsing through to power you to your high.

He was gutting you, hollowing your hole out until it would recover just in time for his next visit. You’d remember him for the remaining weeks, his cock pummeling you until your melodic cries had shifted from want to euphoric need.

“Glen..!” You yelled.

Glen kissed you deeply and bit your lower lip, one hand steeling you by the nape to hold your forehead to his. He doesn’t plan on letting go. Watching you like this, submerged in unconditional pleasure, was just as gratifying as hammering into your prostate. “You feel so good, angel. Look at you. Look at that pretty smile, you’re so happy to be filled with my cock.

You were so full of cock, of Glen’s cock, and you cried from it. Cried from how Glen was taking care of you so well, back to fisting your cock, kissing your neck, pounding your insides out.

Love has never felt so good.

Finally, you came with an arch of your back. Glen’s fist released just in time for thick and heavy ropes to splatter on his chest. Glen stiffened, his eyes daring back and forth between the exhilarating expression on your face and the obscene visual of your cum flooding Glen’s fists as he wrapped his hand back around you, and worked you through your orgasm.

“M-mmfgh, come inside— Need it. I need you.” With your eyes on his, you leaned down to kiss him and take his hands into yours for balance, raising them over his head. They were sticky shut from layers of your cum, but that only made it more thrilling as you rode him. You lifted your hips and brought it down without a single pause, burying his cock inside of you to the hilt.

“Angel, fuck— I’m coming.“

You swallowed his growls, warnings of the inevitable, yet you accelerated like you didn’t hear, slamming your ass down repeatedly, chasing after his high. His hands suddenly grasped hard onto yours, sponging cum out from the locked hands and letting it trail down your arms, and his hips bucked. You could feel his thighs flex, see rapture possess his very being as his gritted teeth no longer could contain the trumpeting sound of his moans, his muscles pulsing. With one more press of your ass, you buried Glen’s cock and felt him come inside of you. Heavy and thick as his hot seed stained your walls. Creamy like butter, when you slowly milked him inside of you with gentle rhythms of your hips. It felt sublime, having your insides contain Glen’s devotion for you.

“You the devil himself…” Glen groaned and his body twitched as you emptied him of seed, stopping once you were satisfied. He then released your hands to embrace your waist, letting you slump into him with relief. Your head rested on his shoulder, and your eyes closed shut.

“You really mean it? You’d wanna live on a ranch together, or something?” You asked, feeling his heart come to a calm with your palm providing soothing strokes to his chest.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He turned, pressing his nose to yours. One hand caressed the small of your back, and occasionally would fondle your rump. Warm and plump in his grasp, he couldn’t help that he was in love with every aspect of you.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lips before shaking your head. “No.”

“Then that’s your answer.” He assured with a kiss to your lips. “We ain’t gotta do it now, or the next month, or the month after that. When you’re ready. Just wanted to know I want a future with you.”

“Me too...” You muttered, playing with his chest hair to distract the sudden conflict you’d been harboring from him.

Silence filled the room for a moment as he watched you intently. You picked up his hat from the floor and fit it on yourself.

“There’s that ‘but’ again. What’s the problem?” Glen chuckled, his heart racing again despite maintaining his composure. He playfully flicked the rim of his hat down, making it tilt on your head, and cover your sight line.

“Hey—You ain’t gon’ like it.” You adjusted the hat, sighing in defeat when Glen watched you with vigilance.

“What?” He sat up, making you straighten your posture in turn.

“Think the sheriff’s not gonna like the sound of me quitting.”

“You kidding?”

“Nope.” You pursed your lips again, then sighed. “He’s boss’s most loyal customer. Pays well too. I mean, I don’t know. I may be wrong, but… think he likes me beyond what I do for him. Buys me gift from the city and all.“

“Well, he’s gonna have to prove it. I ain’t leaving without a fight. Not until I’m dead, and even then, I’ll be watchin’ over ya.”

“You a mad man.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#glen powell x reader #glen powell x male reader #glen powell x you #glen powell fanfic #glen powell imagine #x male reader #male reader #x reader #x you #male reader insert #male reader bottom #bottom male reader #male!reader #nou.fics

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goosecastle41 · 1 month

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Idk just the imagery of Kremy using Gideon for warmth

Like yeah okay we’ve all thought of this cause duh alligator man and fire man go good together blah blah

But the imagery of Kremy slinking out of his tent on a cold night out in the woods. He and Gideon have been traveling together for a good while now; started just as the weather was wearing off from winter, the warmth coming back into the world. They’ve been traveling together for so long the weathers turning bitter.

Their fire had long since been extinguished and the wind whips around their makeshift campsite. Even despite the trees, the cold air rushes through like waves, chilling Kremy’s already cold blood to ice. No matter how deeply he burrows into his tent, swathed in his blankets, he can’t seem to retain any of his heat.

I just I magine him pulling his thickest blanket tighter around himself as the wind beats against his shivering body, looking towards the second tent in the small clearing. Debating with himself; “Would he even be okay with this?” “It’s just for warmth.. He’s a god damn walkin’ heater, it only makes sense…” “But he didn’t sign up for THIS-“

Another wash of icy wind sweeps through, making Kremy flinch and pull the blanket just the smallest bit closer. He concludes as he walks to Gideons tent that, Gideon in fact DID sign up for this when they created their contract. Gideon is Kremy’s bodyguard, and in return Kremy feeds Gideon and gives him a percentage of whatever cons he helps Kremy pull off. Kremy can’t feed and pay him if he freezes to death in his tent overnight.

Imagine Kremy creeping towards the tent, seeing a soft glow emanating from inside. He can see from a crack in the tent flap the embers in Gideons hair and beard. Even in his sleep Gideon burns hot. Opening the tent flap is like opening the door to a stove; hot air rushing out at him due to the colder air outside. The warmth blankets Kremy and he can’t even begin to think about stopping the sigh that leaves him.

I imagine Gideon as a light sleeper. He never slept well while he was held on the train; hell he couldn’t even sleep laying down without his arms being hung in the air thanks to the chains attached to the car walls.. But he could and did sleep on the train. The constant noise and rattle of the cars, the sound of the fire he constantly stoked, the voices and laughter of those awful hobgoblins, the trains blaring whistle.. it was all his lullaby for years. Despite how horrible those years on the train had been, the first night he tried to sleep off of it, he laid awake in bed until sunrise.

Gideon couldn’t hear a thing over the sounds of the train. There really wasn’t much else to hear expect for the sounds stated above. There wasn’t much else to worry about. But outside of the train and it’s constant noise… there was so much more. Gideon knew what to expect from the train.

The sigh wakes Gideon from his sleep. His eyes pop open, immediately alert as he quickly scans around his tent. It takes nothing more than a second for Gideon to spot Kremy and relax the tension that flooded into his shoulders.

“Krem? Ever’thin’ ‘lright?” He’d ask, his voice thick with sleep as he moves to sit up in his bedroll.

Kremy would hesitate to open his mouth a moment, having forgotten to actually come up with what to say to Gideon. He could just be upfront and explain that he’s cold… But making up some long winded excuse that doesn’t involve looking weak willed has always been Kremy’s go to.

When he does actually open his mouth to start on the second option, another blast of cold air hits and makes Kremy shiver hard, eyes squinting against the torrent of sharp winds. He ducks deeper into his blanket cocoon, anything he could have said blown away with the wind.

Gideon watches this and immediately gets the picture here. Gideon can be.. a dense man. He’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer ya know. But he cares for Kremy. Kremy’s done so much for him over the time they’ve been together.. He’s given Gideon some kind of purpose. He’s given Gideon a sense of belonging. He’s given Gideon a constant companion… He gave Gideon that little comb, the first thing anyone has ever given to him of their free will.

The least Gideon can give back is some warmth.

“Geez, man, get in here and close that behind ya, would ya? Lettin’ all the heat out.” Gideon would say, moving to lay back down again while shuffling to the side to allow Kremy into the warm spot that had been beneath Gideon.

Kremy blinks once, twice.. Unsure. A smaller gust beats at his back, forcing Kremy into the heat of Gideons tent. He quickly secures the tent flaps closed before he practically dives into the warmth Gideon has offered.

Kremy curls up on the warm patch of tent ground Gideon had just been on moments before while Gideon is radiating heat to Kremy’s back that he can feel even through his blanket burrito. Kremy closes his eyes, more than content with the way these events have gone.

That is until he feels Gideons hand on the blanket. Kremy’s eyes pop open again as he hears Gideon speak,

“Share. You’ll get warmer faster and stay warm.”

He feels Gideon pull one side of the blanket out from under him, moving to pull it over himself before he shuffles back closer to his original spot. He’s practically pressed against Kremy’s back, hardly an inch separating them. Kremy stiffens up like a board, waiting with almost bated breath to see what comes next… But Gideon just settles behind Kremy, not touching him but just a hairsbreadth away from it…

“Can’t have you freezin’ on me now…” Kremy hears Gideon mutter behind him.

“Yeah… who would feed ya if I did?”

#legends of avantris #coalecroux #idk what this is #god don’t read it #I just lost my mind and spent an hour writing this #idk I’m sorry this is lame #Gideon: Get in here #Kremy: oh thank god I didn’t have to open my mouth and ask someone for something #Kremy: god forbid anyone know I need something #okay but idk this is really cute to me?#might fix this into an actual fic and slap it on ao3

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eyelessfaces · 9 months

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I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through

santiago garcia x reader

summary: if santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind– it would have been possible, a few months ago. or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up. in short; santi wants you back.

warnings: mentions of a breakup but no reason is mentioned, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, inevitable angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

happy new year!!!! randomly dropping a santi fic to start it right hhhh

fic title is from the song "heart to heart" by fiddlehead :)

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

If Santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind–

It would have been possible, a few months ago.

Or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up, and where he would be holding you by the waist and kissing your cheek instead of having to watch you from afar, scrutinizing every littlest movement of yours while he was slumped in Frankie’s couch, like an hermit, feeling helpless, the neck of his beer being the only thing to kiss his lips tonight.

Maybe it was just the alcohol, maybe everything would seem way less dramatic tomorrow, save for the hangover headache – but no, scratch that, he wasn’t even drunk, just barely tipsy, so no, tomorrow won’t be better.

It must be the sight of you laughing at another man’s joke then, probably.

Was he hitting on you? Was he just a friend, like Benny, Will and Frankie were to you?

He shouldn’t care; that wasn’t his business, that wasn’t his problem. Not anymore. Not that he had been the kind to carefully observe your every movement any time you talked to another man back when you were together. He had never really been of that kind, he trusted you.

Except here, right now, it was his problem. For some reason, it felt like it was, and even more than before, when you were still together.

Because now that you didn’t love him anymore, there was nothing to stop you from doing anything with that man.

Would that man fill the hole Santi had left in your heart? Would he make you happier than Santi ever had?

Probably. He was probably a good man, would be a good boyfriend, wouldn’t fuck everything up. Would probably even marry you, and he’d be damn right to.

“He’s gay” Will snorts, plopping down next to Santi, giving a small pat to his chest. Santi’s gaze finally departs from you to turn to his right, where his friend has settled next to him.

“Good to know, but I‘m not interested in him,” Santi jokes, looking down at his half full beer. Half empty.

“That, I know.” Will cocks his head to the side, a more serious expression over his face as he brings his beer to his mouth. Santi’s gaze darts back to you and that man talking, a sick feeling filling his stomach as he sees you smile and shake your head frantically just the way you used to when he would come up with a shitty joke. “I’m like, eighty three percent sure she’s still in love with you.” Will speaks again, nudging Santi’s knee with his own.

“Seventeen percent of what?” Santi chuckles, more convinced that the rest of that percentage is the most important part.

“Seventeen percent of, you still fucked up, man.” Will says, patting Santi’s knee before getting up from the couch, already. “I’m not good at math dude, but all I can tell you is, it’s worth trying again!” he declares over the music, pointing at Santi before disappearing through the crowd.

Easier said than done.

Santi sighs, bites the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his few days old stubble.

He had never had any issue talking to people with ease, but for some reason, the idea of talking to you tonight seemed like the most intimidating thing he ever had to do in his entire life.

But god, did he want to look at you in the eyes again. To have you make that focused frown whenever you were attentively listening to someone. To see the way your lips curled up into a smile when you could pre shot a joke, and the way you still pretended not to know what the punchline was, and still ended up laughing.

Santi smiles to himself, finishes his beer, and when he looks up, you’re not in the crowd anymore. Then Benny joins him when he goes to the kitchen for a refill, and you happen to slip out of his mind for the time being.

—

The air is crisp, compared to the smothering heat inside. It tickles your cheeks, the tip of your ears, it hits every exposed area of skin, the sweat over it now feeling ice cold.

It’s all you needed and wanted, so you shouldn’t complain.

You walk back and forth along Frankie’s porch, the overwhelming feeling of the slight tipsiness and the fast beating of your heart simmering down, and you lean against the wall, taking a deep breath.

You turn at the sound of the door opening beside you, the loud, previously muffled sound of the music now clear, ending up face to face with the one person you did your best to not go talk to all night long.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll go” Santi apologizes, still firmly holding the doorknob, starting to go back inside.

“No, no, it’s alright” you say, inviting him to stay with you. “I didn’t privatize the porch” you joke, giving him an awkward smile.

He chuckles as he tentatively steps outside, closing the door behind him, leaning his back against the wall beside you. Neither of you say a single word for a while, then he looks over at you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I assumed you wouldn’t wanna see me.” he finally declares, making you scoff and shrug.

“I actually don’t mind,” you say, looking over at him. He’s now looking ahead, a small pinched smile over his lips. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before looking back at you.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Fair enough, you are one.” you immediately sigh, looking away. His gaze is too heavy. “I loved you.” the knot inside your throat tightens only after you pronounce the words, thankfully.

He swallows hard, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not the cold air’s doing. He stares deeply at you, watching you doing your best not to look at him.

“I know.”

The atmosphere hangs heavily as the awkwardness takes over. The silence lingers, punctuated only by the sounds of the night around you.

He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step closer and turning to look at you, forcing the both of you to truly establish eye contact for the first time tonight.

"I fucked up, I know," he admits, his voice low and filled with remorse. "But I never meant to hurt you." he shakes his head. “Ever.”

You blink, your gaze tearing from his. "You did anyway," you reply, your tone tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sadness. The memories of the pain he caused are still fresh, wounds not fully healed.

He runs a hand over his stubble, a nervous habit you remember all too well. "I know I can't change anything that I did, but I want you to know that I'm sorry."

Your eyes meet his own again, searching for sincerity. "It doesn't fix everything," you say, your guard still up.

He nods understandingly. "I just needed to tell you, and to let you know I haven't stopped thinking about you."

The vulnerability in his gaze begins to chip away at your defenses. Despite the hurt, a part of you softens. "Santi–”

He cuts you off– "I've been thinking, and you know I don’t do it often” he jokes, scoffing. “And I realized how much I lost when I let you go."

A wave of internal conflict washes over you. Your past relationship is a heavy burden you’re carrying, and you’re not sure you should grant him your forgiveness, yet there's a glimmer of something in his eyes that translates his genuine desire for redemption, and there’s some part of you that craves everything you had with him.

“Please,” he starts, his gaze chasing yours as he softly holds onto your wrist. “Please give me a second chance”

His plea hangs in the air, and you can feel the sincerity in his touch. The warmth of his hand on your wrist is a rough contrast to the chill in the night air. You sigh, and look away, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a different future. The silence stretches painfully, and you can hear the faint sounds of the night around you – a distant car passing by, the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

A shiver shakes through you, the brown of his eyes seeming deeper than usual, softer as he silently begs for you to say something.

“Second and last chance” you finally declare, refusing to give up on everything you’ve done to try to get over him, yet indulging in everything you’ve ever wanted since you’ve been apart.

He nods silently, his hand leaving your wrist to settle at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Okay. Alright. I won’t need another one” he promises confidently, the frown over his face eventually softening. You smile as his thumb gently rubs over your now cold skin.

“Alright, but you gotta kiss me for it to take effect” you tease as you break the tense atmosphere, readjusting your position onto your feet and placing your hands at either side of his neck. His skin is warm, and you feel his muscles contract under your hands when he laughs.

“Good thing I’ve been wanting to do it all night long” he smirks before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, smiling as you sigh into the kiss. This is it; you feel complete again.

He tastes of booze, and his light stubble slightly stinging when he moves are surprisingly pleasant. Your hand shifts to rest at the back of his neck, feeling his scar here, his own hands pulling you closer at the waist where he squeezes lightly when you run your other hand through his short hair.

You pull away only once it becomes necessary, the lack of oxygen making you all giddy though you’re not sure it’s just it. Santi is still holding you close as he presses his warm lips over your forehead, laughing when a shiver runs through your spine and makes you jolt.

“Alright” he declares as he strips himself of his jacket, pulling it over your shoulders.

“You already pulled this trick on our first date” you scoff, looking over at him. A sly smirk grows over his face as you adjust the jacket over your shoulders.

“...And it worked, didn’t it?”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

triple frontier taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @alexxavicry @grxywindd @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @luxisluxurious @dowbastan

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #sorry for the tags it's just to reach more people^^#oscar isaac

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m45wood · 3 months

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I could be dead by tomorrow

Ushijima Wakatoshi x FtM Reader

Summary: You, the schools stoner, find yourself having a crush on the ace of your schools volleyball team. WC: 3.6k

Warnings: Mentions of weed, Cussing, Reader is a self insert, Trans Reader, Neglectful Parents on Readers side, Smoking, Gay, Supportive Parents with Ushijima. A/N: Very based. My writing, as of now, has a pattern but trust i don’t write the same thing 20x🙏 Title based off of Sonder lyrics. [Too Fast] **NOT PROOFREAD**

—

To be honest it had been such a simple crush. I mean who wouldn’t find the ace of your own schools volleyball team a little attractive. All the games you saw of them and he was always there scoring points. Unstoppable. A powerful force that should be reckoned with. But let’s be honest, what hope did you have?

You brushed it off and went on with your day. Usual stuff school and home. School and then home. school and then home. The usual schedule. You weren’t a very skilled individual. You weren’t a bad student but you just flew right through everyone’s radar. You smoked here and then but you never got caught. It was more to just help ease off stress or stop insomnia. No club. You didn’t want to have to do anything extra if you didn’t have to and you really stuck by that. You just wanted to graduate high school and then you’ll figure out what you want to do. Now you just want to finish your calculus homework and smoke a little bit of weed.

—

The school day had just ended. [Y/N] is walking behind the school. He usually takes this path to his home because it’s quicker and leads straight to his bedroom window. There’s only one problem to the path. The back of the school is also where athletes do their practice at times so if he goes onto the path there is a small percentage of running into one of the athletes practice. [Y/N] took that chance. He always did. It was either that or sweating in his school uniform. And he was not about to start sweating in his school uniform. And just in his favor, not really, he was met face to face with one of their athletes.

“Face to face” wouldn’t be the term, rather ‘pec-to-face’. “I’m so sorry” [Y/N] starts profusely apologizing, bowing at an 45° angle. “It’s alright” the deep husky voice says. [Y/N] straightens his back out. He studies the males face. Brown hair, currently dripping in sweat. Lightly tinted skin, as of now covered in red with sweat. Almost as if he were a siren, [Y/N] is hypnotized by his features leaning towards him almost leaning in for a kiss. “Excuse me” the deep voice abruptly stops [Y/N] current actions. “I apologize once again” [Y/N] says bowing once again, this time out of embarrassment. He goes around the towering figure continuing on his path swiftly out of embarrassment. He finally gets to his bedroom window opens it and jumps in. “What the fuck” [Y/N] thinks to himself.

He had never ran so fast to his home. He was coughing so hard he almost regretted all the smoking he had done. “God damn” He leans against his dresser. His backpack was slammed against his door and he chucked his bag through the window. “Ma I’m home!” He yells from the ground.

“I heard you!” She says back. He chuckles to himself before throwing his shoes into his closet.

“What’s for dinner today?” He says walking towards the kitchenette.

“I’m not sure yet” His mom says cigarette in hand.

He stares at her figure. His mom had never been the best mom. She was here physically. Never emotionally or financially . She was sitting on the couch watching the television.

[Y/N] grabbed a cup of water and chugged it. “I’m going out” he grabs his jacket from his room before turning back around out of the house.

“Don’t forget to go stop by the convenience store” His mother yells at him before he slams the door shut.

Hood up on his jacket, [Y/N] walks with no destination in mind. He mostly just wanted to get out of the house for a smoke. Which he was doing. He had brought his slippers instead of shoes and he was regretting it because he usually dropped ash on his shoe, now it was hitting his bare foot. “Fuck,” He says as some of the ash he flicked off was still a bit lit hit his skin. “God damn it” He rubs off the ash with his sleeve dirtying it even more than it is now.

“You could just wash it off with water” A deep voice says catching [Y/N] off guard. It was the same athlete from earlier. It looked like he was just trying to buy a drink.

“Thanks” [Y/N] says eyeing the athlete. He was tall. 6’2. Brown hair. Brown-olive colored eyes. Muscular build. He definitely looked like an ace of a powerhouse school. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“Why would I?”

He had a point. I doubt he even knew who i was before i ran into him. I bet he wouldn’t even have thought twice about me if i hadn’t ran into him almost cinematically. He finally grabs his drink from the machine and sits down on one of the benches. Sweat still lightly trickled down his face and neck. His towel still soaked from rigorous exercise hung on his bag drying. He switched between sipping out of the bottle to resting the bottle on his forehead. [Y/N] realized his staring and looked over to the concrete wall to his other side. Not very interesting to say the least. He sighs and just leans his head against the wall behind him closing his eyes.

“Name?”

“[Y/N]. I know who you are.”

“Hmm…Age?”

“Same as you”

“Sorry”

“It’s okay”

[Y/N] opens his eyes to see the athlete staring at his feet. [Y/N] gets up and wipes the sweat off of his face. “It bothered me” He unzips the jacket after realizing just how wet the sleeve would become. “Here you can use it yourself if that made you uncomfortable”

He nods.

“Okay”

[Y/N] lightly dried off the sweat from his head. He asked before moving towards his neck.

“If you need it any where else you can use it as well” He said just passing the jacket towards him.

“Thanks”

“No problem”

He sat next to him this time in the bench.

“[Y/N]…”

He turned to look at the other male.

“Do you like school?”

“Does anyone like school?”

“Some people do”

“I mean…I wouldn’t say I hate it”

“Then why do you smoke?”

That’s what this had been about. Just curiosity.

He was not into you that’s crazy to think about. That’s just crazy he would never. He would have never and i mean never ever looked my way.

[Y/N] shrugged.

“Takes the stress off of school and life”

“What kinds of stress?”

“Any”

“We have different definitions of stress. What stresses you out?”

“School work. Needing to do enough just to get by. Work. My mom does nothing and my dad left when I was young. Hiding my habits and concerning emails from teachers from my mom.”

“That’s way different to mine”

[Y/N] chuckles. It felt nice to laugh.

“Yeah I guess so. How about you?”

“Me? I just worry about nationals”

“Is it soon?”

He nods.

“We have to win one more match and then we’re guaranteed a spot”

“Don’t we make it every year?”

[Y/N] had never remembered their team losing. They always went to nationals. And won. So why would this stress him out?

“Yes. Still you never know what can happen on that court”

He looked serious. It was almost terrifying.

“Scaring me a bit there Ushi”

The silence was deafening.

“I’m so sorry”

“No it’s okay”

[Y/N] didn’t know why he was still even sitting there next to him. What if someone saw them? What would they think? He stomps out his cigarette before rubbing his hands against his pants.

“Okay well i’m going to go” Y/N says rocking on his feet.

“Hey wait”

[Y/N] turned around to face the male.

“You should come to our game.”

—

[Y/N] was stunned to say the least. The ace of their volleyball team had asked him to go to their game. Who is he to say no? So now [Y/N] was stuck. Well not stuck. He could leave anytime he wants to. But he didn’t want to. He stayed. And watched. He was in up in the stadium. Ushijima looked up to search for [Y/N] during their little warm up. He spotted him in the back. He looked out of place but Ushijima felt his heart swell with happiness. He then focused back on the game at hand.

As the match Shiratorizawa vs Karasuno began more people became swarming in. Because of this [Y/N] had decided to move down to the court. He still wanted a good view but he hated the people surrounding him. He would rather a news reporter than a teenage girl. Trust him. Their screams were deadly. [Y/N] had also sobered up for the match. He wanted to be able to recall this game.

[Y/N] was mesmerized. He knew Ushijima was good. But he never knew just how good he was. And here he was showing off with all his glory. It had [Y/N] stomach do turns. If he hadn’t called before he definitely had now. It was hard not to. [Y/N] knew he was gay. He just didn’t know who else was gay. And he struggled with that profusely so he usually didn’t try with anyone. He especially knew, though, that Ushijima did not look like the gay type. [Y/N] left the game sad to say the least.

Well sad is a strong word. Upset. Mild distress. Empathetic. They had lost. Everyone was surprised. Even the winners. It was a big shocker to everyone. Even down to the announcers. [Y/N] met Ushijima’s eyes. He smiled. He had never seen him smile before. If he hadn’t needed to throw up earlier he sure did now.

“Hey”

“Hi”

“Great game out there”

“Thanks”

A red haired male came up to you. And i mean red. Bright red. Dyed red. He comes up to you wide-eyed looking between you and Ushijima.

“Are you going to introduce us?” Tendou asks turning to Ushijima.

“Tendou this is [Y/N] a friend. [Y/N] this is Tendou my teammate” Tendou glares at Ushijima before reaching his hand out.

“Nice to meet you [Y/N]”

“Nice to meet you too”

—

“When’s the wedding?” Tendou was known to tease the two of you. It didn’t help your case at all.

If it hadn’t been obvious you had a crush on Ushijima. Always had. You guys had been friends in elementary school. Then you transitioned. You don’t think he remembers. He hasn’t said anything about it. He also treats you like as if he doesn’t know you. You didn’t have the courage to tell him either. It was just odd. It didn’t feel like it was needed to be said and you were scared on how he might react.

Ushijima never seemed to catch on. In his defense he is a very forgetful person. Not that forgetful but he also doesn’t catch onto cues. Especially Tendous teasing. He just always explained how you two have a platonic relationship. Behind doors? When you weren’t there? He agreed. He liked you back. No matter how clueless you think he is he finds ways to surprise you. He was clueless in the sense he never caught on to your feelings. But he knew who you were. He always knew. He didn’t mind. Whatever mind he’s friend happy. He was a simple man. He was just finding the courage to finally confess to you because he hates having to hide this from you. He’s not one to hide things from you. He’s very upfront about everything. You keep having to remind him you politely don’t care/don’t need to know that.

Tendou fed up with your awkwardness and Ushijimas blatant idiocy, told on both of you. To each other.

“He likes you back”

Those simple words from Tendou mouth made you both want to punch yourself in the face. Tendou had told Ushijima this morning while he told you during lunch.

“What?”

“Yup”

“No”

“Yes”

Tendous cheshire like smile spread across his face making you second guess his words.

“You better not be playing with me”

“I would never”

You glare at him.

“Well fuck what do I do?”

“Confess. Kiss him. I don’t know”

You send him another glare that has him bugging off.

“[Y/N]? Can we have a moment?” Ushijima asks looking at Tendou to leave.

“Don’t have to tell me twice” He squeezes your shoulder. ‘Good luck’ he mouths.

“Hey”

He just eyes you.

You slowly get up from the bench.

“I like you”

“Straight to the point okay-“

He cuts you off. ”I’ve liked you since we were 5 years old playing in the sand box. And i still like you now even if we aren’t 5 years old playing in a sandbox or rather we are now surviving high schools awkward years. And i want to be able to say that i confessed to my crush. I want to at least leave high school knowing i haven’t been a coward hiding away from my feelings” He pulls out two smalls flowers from behind him. They look comically small in his hands.

“Ushi…You’re so stupid” He was sweating. What do you mean? He’s nervous. What is this? His chest is tightening. His eyes feel like they’re about to cry.

“You’re ,basically in my eyes, the best volleyball player ever. How could i not fall for you?” You say.

“Huh” He was shocked. Happy. But surprised. He was sure you were about to just reject him. He swears his heart just broke.

“I like you too”

He smiles. He giggles.

It was such a shock.

You giggle with him. He pulls you into a hug.

“Thank You”

“Thank You, Ushi”

——

“Finally!” Tendou yells. You three were now walking to the locker rooms. “I swear if i hadn’t said anything nothing would’ve happened” Tendou says bragging opening the locker room’s door.

“I’ll wait in the gym” You say.

On certain days you would stay during practice. The team had come to know you with time. You being friends, now boyfriends but they’ll find out in time, with their captain who rarely has friends outside the team was a nice surprise. They all adored you. You sometimes hid other times blatantly walked in. Depending on which coach is training the athletes. Today [Y/N] was sneaking in. Which he usually did and was *not so* surprisingly good at. He leapt into the window. All the practice with his own window helped him out. He successfully made it in hidden by some nets. He got himself out of the nets and was now behind the bleachers. Out of breath from the climbing he had to do he laid on the floor. Dirty but he couldn’t care less.

“[Y/N], what are you doing?” Ushijima comes up to you and sees you laying.

“Oh hey sorry. Jumped through the window” You say sitting up pointing towards the window.

“You and jumping through windows i swear” He says. You smile at him. “Come” He gives you his hand.

“Thank you” You say teasing him slightly.

“Oi Ushijima!” Tendou yells at him from the other side of the gym finally seeing. “Oh [Y/N] here. Guys!”

“Tendou,” He nods towards the team. You glance at your boyfriend.

“We telling them?” You ask softly.

He hums.

Your grip on his hand loosens. He tightens it and smiles again you reassuringly.

You smile back up at him before a voice draws your attention.

“Just say it don’t do it” Tendou says with a grossed out face. The team confused look at him and then over to the two of you.

Holding hands. With such loving eyes.

“WHAT””HUH””AHHH””¥6000 less richer”

“Did you guys make bets?” You ask.

They all nod.

“Oh my…”

“Yes. We’re dating” Ushijima says.

They all look at him. He looks very tense.

“Loosen up” You say to him. He looks back at you.

He softly nods. He goes down to hug you. With no other option you hug him back hoping his teammates leave you two alone.

Before you know it they all surround you. Bombarding you two in questions.

——

Before you told the team let alone Tendou you had gone a few dates.

They were awkward but sweet. Ushijima did not know when you were flirting with him. You finally realized that he wasn’t rude he was just very confused. It was endearing. He was always a gentlemen. Held the door for you. Refused to let you pay. His family was well off so it only made sense. He wasn’t controlling. He knew that if you didn’t want to be with him you would most likely leave. He knew you. You’re not the type to be with someone you don’t like. He likes that about you. He liked many things about you.

He was falling for you. Absolutely falling. Face first and everything. You think he’d be against your smoking and he was. But he understood at the same time. He didn’t like the fact you smoked but he didn’t mind the fact you smoked. You weren’t a heavy smoker. You never smoked around him. It’s the one thing that has been brought up many times. It was the one thing people thought you two would break up over.

To be honest it hasn’t been a problem in your relationship. It’s something that’s apart of you and he knows that. He loves you too. He was obsessed with everything about you. Being the son of such a prominent figure you think his parents would be mad at him dating a boy, a trans boy at that, who is seen as a ‘delinquent’ at school. They weren’t. They knew their son. So they gave you a chance. And they were happily surprised. You’re a well-mannered kid. You had flipped a switch on your cussing but nothing about you changed changed. You were still you. He liked that. So did his parents.

——

You both had been through a lot. Graduated high school. Ushijima went pro. You?

You had first found yourself at college. What for? Nothing you just kind of explored. You found yourself in strange situations. House fire, mental institution, hotels, motels, random jazz bars. Then one of your friends called you with a job opportunity. You took it. You were barely getting by. You secured the position. Honestly you might’ve lied on your resume, you totally did, but you did good. It was a great job for you. You worked hard. You were a good worker if you tried. It’s just you rarely tried. Only when you wanted to. which was rarely. At least as a teen. Moving out of your teens your destined to have some sort of future. Ushijima did that.

Ushijima and you had gone long distance as you both figured out your fitting in the world. Ushijima was focusing on his volleyball career while you figured out what to do. Once you had gotten your position at your new Architect job. Architect makes it sound fancy but rather you helped out the architects. Within the years you found yourself going up the ranks swiftly.

You and Ushijima called regularly. “Ushi! Guess what?”

“Hmm”

“I got promoted!”

“That’s great!” He says as enthusiastically as he can.

“This means they’ll send me to go study! I’ll be getting my Architect degree with them finally” You said basically screaming at your phone.

“That’s amazing, my dear”

“How’s everything over there? Are you doing okay?” You ask noting his tired voice.

“Everything here is great. Tired is all. Lots of training.” He says.

“Tell me about you baby. I miss you” He says.

“Okay”

——

Ushijima went pro. You became and Architect. To say you both were a model couple is an understatement. A volleyball player and an architect? You guys were the couple. You guys had gotten married after you graduated. It was a peaceful wedding. You both now lived together in your small apartment. You had your own business. Ushijima helped you with anything you needed. You did the same for him. Ushijima if he ever heard of a friend needing work on something he would recommend you. This man carried your business cards with him everywhere. He always seemed to have them. If you ever found a potential client at an event where you don’t have any cards on you just call your husband and he’ll hand them each a card at that.

He was so proud to be your husband. He forget he’s a famous volleyball player. While getting interviewed he will interrupt the host to ask them “You know my husband [Y/N]? You should have him come on here. Have you had him on here yet?”. Of course you do it back. Always posting links to his interviews, photo shoots, tickets to games, etc. Your social media was full of him. If someone were to know you just off of your persona online it’d be hard to ignore your boyfriend. He was everywhere.

You even found yourself tattooing his high school number onto you. You thought it was cute and had such a simple meaning yet it made Ushijima ball his eyes out. He loved it. You of course discussed this beforehand. You didn’t want to overwhelm with anything if it made him uncomfortable. He ended up getting your initials tattooed onto him. It’s on his chest. Small font. You trace it whenever you two are cuddling. It’s noticeable but he didn’t get into much trouble. It’s easy to hide.

A/N: This is part one! Idk what i’ll do with this but i want to see what i can do!! I’m excited to see what i do with this:) Also i played music and just wrote so sorry if it’s all messy.

#male reader #gay #ftm reader #trans male reader #anime x male reader #x male reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x male reader

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yujeong · 10 months

Text

Me being totally normal: I can surely figure out what page he's at if I stare at it for too long

Also me, staring at it for too long: Wait...is he reading....the foreword...? I can't believe it took me this long to realize Vegas is reading the first page here. It might not even be the foreword, it might be info about the author, it's so funny. But don't worry, the good news is that he's actually reading the book in this scene:

which, of course, you can make the claim that beforehand, he was not in a good mental state (Vegas? not being mentally well? No fucking way right?) so he was trying to distract himself from whatever the fuck the whole thing he's doing at the safehouse is, but after him and Pete talk and bond and all of that good stuff, his mind can focus and actually read the damn book. Sidenote Because I'm a bit insane and very committed in finding things to obsess over with my hyperfixations, I estimated the possible percentage of the book he might be currently at, then went to the appropriate page and found this line there: "He felt very gay and light-headed, and quite forty years younger, as he walked to the door."

I swear to God, it was there, and I laughed so hard they must have heard me over in Thailand.

#this is the shit that occupies my brain every day #I might have a problem #I'm actually in the process of reading Childhood's End for a fic idea I got at random and would really like to see if it'd work #me sweating above the pages: how can I make it connect to Vegas????#surely they didn't make him read this book specifically only for its title right? RIGHT?#(the most probable answer is that yes it's because of the title but where there's a will there's a way)#(and I have a wild imagination when it comes to connecting two completely different and unrelated things together because I love them both)#(stay tuned for a fic that's coming in December for that lol)#anyway have I said how much I love this show yet?#I love this show and the brainrot it's given me #I hope it stays for a long ass time #vegaspete #vegas theerapanyakul #meta post

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jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 40

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?!

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing.

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight.

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence.

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer.

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.”#FF: “Aye aye Captain.”#Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!”#Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY?#Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday!#Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

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lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe · 5 months

Text

Chapter 7 [IKYLHT]

~2k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter

Body involuntarily jostling, your eyes snap open as you lurch into your safety belt, the plane rattling loudly.

Heart thumping, you look at each of the men around you. Somehow, they remain completely unaffected. Not a single cease in snores.

Gaz rests partially on your shoulder, slumped down as far as he possibly can be in his seat. Price is nowhere to be found, but a careful lean forward displays Simon- arms crossed, feet stretched out into the aisle.

Shit, I can’t blame him. I’d probably do the same if I had those legs.

You can’t see much more than Johnny’s mohawk, but you can hear his snoring from the other side of the aisle.

Unbuckling, you gently slide yourself from under Gaz and shuffle into the aisle on your right.

Thank god for that empty seat. Might genuinely be the only woman on the entire damn flight.

For a bunch of trained soldiers, the plane was not stealthy or silent. A good percentage of these men must have broken their nose once or twice in combat because the amount of deviated septums on the aircraft was criminal.

Moving towards the front of the plane, you smile at the flight attendant before rummaging through their snack stash.

Fortunately, most CRAF flight attendants had either moved on from their original aviation company and joined the AFA as a freelancer (essentially), or were young, hardworking flight attendants that were convinced by the union to volunteer for their country one microwaved meal at a time.

Regardless, they didn’t mind when soldiers tried to cram in a few more calories during the flight, and that’s what mattered right now.

Opening the little cart-refill cubby, you scoop some ice into the tiny plastic cup and pour in a coke, sipping as you shuffle around the meal options.

Beef, chicken, vegetarian. Might have to try one of each. Yeah, that sounds good.

Pulling the plastic back on the corner of each meal, you stack them on top of each other and cram them into the microwave.

You watch as they turn, internally giggling with a childish sort of excitement.

Shoving another two cans of coke into your hoodie pocket, you grab a tray as the microwave beeps and balance the three meals carefully.

As you turn to walk down the aisle, your peripherals catch the flight attendant looking at you concerningly. You turn your head as she inhales to speak but you rush to talk before she does, smiling disarmingly.

“Don’t worry, I’m bringing them back to- HOLY SHIT!”

Hand clasped over your heart, you nearly jump out of your skin as Price stands not even a full foot ahead of you. His arms are crossed, head tilted with a stern but amused smirk.

“Go on, Rabbit.”

His eyes dip down to the tray of meals beginning to tilt and slide towards your hoodie.

“Oh uh. I was just telling her how I was bringing two of these back for you and Gaz. Didn’t realize you were coming to help, sir.”

You give a big smile and shimmy your shoulders playfully, wiggling the tray as you extend it out towards him.

He gives another little stern look before his eyes pass you, giving his infamous crinkly eye smile to the flight attendant and taking the tray from your hands.

He reaches the aisle first, gesturing towards your seat with a “Sit” before plopping himself into the empty seat on the right of you.

He pulls down the table tops, using the tray as a sort of bridge between the two, lining the three meals beside each other.

He pulls back the rest of the plastic film on each, handing you a wooden utensil set before trying a forkful of the vegetarian pasta meal and pointing towards your hoodie pocket.

“Hand it over.”

He nods as you open and place one of the cokes on his side of the tray bridge, taking a bite of the beef option and humming appreciatively.

“Mm, you’ll like that one. Eat.”

It’s a classic Shepherd's Pie, a meal you’ve made a million times in Johnny’s kitchen. It’s a comfort meal on those slow days, something hearty to soothe the soul.

Johnny had mentioned giving Price your ‘special’ recipe (consisting of a little extra butter and a heaping spoonful of love) but that’d been years ago, probably two and a half by now.

I can’t believe he’d remember that.

Gaz remains asleep on the left, and you crack your coke open as your gesture towards him.

“Should we save the chicken and rice for him?”

Price pauses his chewing, gazing at Gaz for a moment before the chewing resumes and he shakes his head.

“He’ll be alright.”

You hold back a surprised snort, giving a huff of a laugh and digging in.

He’s right. That’s a damn good Shepherd’s Pie.

He takes Gaz’s snoring as a cue to try the chicken meal, nodding in satisfaction once more.

The two of you share the three microwave meals, going back and forth between the plastic bowls.

You’re almost finished eating when Price speaks.

“So… Was Kyle right?”

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, you turn to glance at Gaz before settling back on Price.

“I’m sorry?”

“Garrick.”

“No I-” You huff a laugh that holds impatience more than anything else, “I know who Kyle is, sir. Was he right about what?”

His eyes pass yours, landing somewhere over your shoulder, and you realize.

“Oh.” Setting the fork down, you sit back. “We’re okay. Just figuring a couple things out.”

He nods, giving a small hum and leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms and talking lowly.

“Simon’s a good man. You can trust me on that.”

You lock your eyes onto his for a solid moment.

“I do, sir.”

He nods, starting to look away before your voice rings out once more.

“So what’d I do that gave it away? Or did Johnny tell you?”

“Neither.” His eyes dart over to Ghost.

“Simon isn’t that touchy with anyone. Noticed it with you first. Wrote it off. Saw him with Johnny. Not hard to put two and two together.”

“Price I-”

“-I don’t need an explanation, love.” It barely registers in your head that this is his first time calling you anything besides Rabbit, “Believe me. Just tellin’ you to be careful. Not let it compromise a mission. For everyone’s sake.”

Right… he read my file. Laswell’s version. The uncensored one. Right right right. That’s great.

“Yes, sir.”

He’s not wrong.

You nod somewhat bitterly, look away in shame.

He lets a moment of silence pass before turning with a semi-apologetic smile.

“You still got a few of those desserts you nicked?”

Your smile returning, you pull out the small dessert cups from your various cargo pants pockets.

Setting one in front of him, you prop your elbow on the armrest between the two of you, leaning towards him and nudging his shoulder.

“So, tell me about Urzikstan.”

“Soldiers, as we start our descent into beautiful London this afternoon, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. On behalf of myself and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for your service. We look forward to seeing you on board again as you continue to defend our great nation and its freedoms. May God bless and protect our troops.”

Chuckling lowly at his eye roll, you push a still-sleeping Kyle’s seat-back tray up as Price speaks lowly.

“Can’t tell you how many times he’s drooled on me. Left a damn snail trail on my shoulder coming back from Iraq.”

“Aw, give him a break. He’d earned it.”

“I’m lenient enough as is, I’ll tell you that much.” He chuckles with you, pushing his seat up and rebuckling.

You’d both gotten comfortable, the turbulence pretty tame considering the route.

Slipping your boots back on, you glance at your watch and feel your eyes widen.

Price and I have been talking the last- oh god- four and a half hours?

Makes sense, really. He’d been more than generous in his story sharing, supplying you with a healthily sized list of semi-embarrassing things he’d seen the guys do over the years- Kyle having to explain why he couldn’t wear his patrol cap after it slipped off and fell into the half-full piss ditch he was utilizing was your personal favorite.

Slipping past him, you settle into Price’s original seat between Kyle and the aisle, shaking the man awake gently.

“C’mon Sarge. Rise and shine.”

He mumbles something incoherent, shrugs your hand off as he leans towards Price. All the other man does is continue your efforts in waking him, so you consider your job done and move on to Simon.

Barely pressing your hand onto his chest, his eyes fly open, long lashes fluttering as he blinks away the sleep.

“It’s okay, Si. Just me.”

He rests his hand over yours, lifting to kiss it from behind the mask with a small smile.

You go to wake Johnny, but stop as you feel a light hand on your elbow. You fight the urge to slap it away, something deep in your gut recoiling, able through sheer will alone to brush off the feeling entirely.

Hadn’t anyone told these people not to go randomly touching soldiers?

“Ma’am, please return to your seat and buckle your seatbelt, we land very shortly.”

You flash her a smile, let the image of her civilian work attire push into the front of your head.

She didn’t mean to. No harm intended.

Doesn't change the way your stomach fell to the floor when she did it.

Simon nods as you turn back to him, wordless praise that you appreciate wholly.

“Go ahead, Tapeti. I’ll wake ‘im.”

You make your way to your seat, buckling into your seat beside a newly awakened Gaz.

You start your list, a mental chalkboard full of to-do’s, as usual.

You hadn’t been in the military for 9 years for nothing. If a job is to be done, it’ll be done right, and the front of your mind flashes to the team you’ll be returning to- training your subordinates, countless team building exercises, trading tactical advice with Gaz as promised.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the same man the second your brain glosses over him.

“You seem better.”

His tone is light and playful, but it doesn’t give you much indication of the meaning of his words.

“Yeah? What makes you say that?”

He gives a small shrug, a content smile on his face.

“I dunno. Just seem to be in better spirits.” He leans in, gives your shoulder a nudge with his. “Price tends to have that effect.”

You feel your cheeks warm before you could get a retort out, the small wink he gives while leaning back into his own seat only exacerbating the issue.

“Bold words, Sergeant.”

He doesn’t reply, only throws his head back with a hearty chuckle that leaves his eyes closed in delight at your sudden awkward jitteriness.

He’s cute, you’ll give him that, but that just won’t do. God forbid your cool, calm, collected persona be tarnished by Gaz and his teasing.

Smirk slipping into something more genuine, he taps your knee against his to grab your attention once more.

“You ready to be home?”

You let your eyes stay on him for a minute- his calm demeanor and warm smile, the way he’s so effortlessly comforting- before shifting your eyes to glance over at Price, then Simon, then Johnny.

There’s a lot to be done once you’re back, most of it leaving an ache in your back and a deep churning in your gut.

But looking at your little group, it doesn’t seem as daunting as it did a mere eight hours ago.

“Yeah.”

You look towards your boys once more, hands held tight together, barely visible to the untrained eye.

“Yeah, I am.”

Taglist:

@voodoo-writer @wonderswritings @loving-milkskake-coffee @mothcelestial @hindi-si-ikay @poohkie90 @berrysealsblog @anniblindfischi @autrizzm @megansheila @aldis-nuts @gentlegiant @johnwickthethird @dante-mightdie @forever-hero-trash @330bpm-whiplash @addison-james @l0velyy-xmll @secretsthathauntus @angstismydrug @mo-i-ra @wh0rethoughtz @trulytiredboi @pengwen14 @craxy-person @mrmountainman @galacticgrump @kiritokunuwu @luvvnightingalee @cosychick @jollyjumpsfrog @sn0w72897 @urfavsunkissedleo @erothickthefemboy @perpetual-fandom-brainrot @bossva @missmidnight-writes @supernaturalstilinski @certainkittenpeach @alcinas-darling-side @jinxxangel13 @jewelbby @rhaenryawhore @murdersheghostwrote @leothescorpio @michilpyay @cassiecasluciluce @browtfyoudoing @savagemickey03 @xxqueensneverdie @lovelyeau @kimbeans90 @notcrazynotoldbutcatlady @nessaasstuff @sadg3 @thriving-n-jiving @ghost-with-a-teacup @bbyfimmie

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darlingmbappe · 2 years

Text

The Loneliest [4] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Kylain has shown you just how much he wants you and him to work out, initiating a second chance you weren’t sure you’d give.

Warnings: Angst? Very minimal. Little bit of fluff. Hangovers, cussing, chef!kylian, mentions of insecurities in a relationship, and that’s about it. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The afternoon sun steeped through your closed eyelids, immediately you felt your head beginning to pound, your pupils felt like they were throbbing. Even with your face now stuffed into the pillow, it was still too bright, and you were still too damn comfy.

You tugged the comforter over your head, letting it engulf you entirely. What the hell did you drink last night? There was maybe a 5% chance of you leaving your extra snuggly bed today, and that percentage is reserved for peeing and taking a giant Advil. Memories of flashing club lights and loud house music rushed through your tired mind, and you muffled a loud groan into your pillow, wondering why you decided that buckets of alcohol would somehow make you feel better about telling Kylian about your night with Haaland during your heart to heart after training… Damn you, tequila.

Alas, the time came where you couldn’t keep holding your bladder and you ripped the sheets off of you like a bandaid, looking up at the ceiling… except it was not the ceiling you expected to see. The flood of confusion that took over your brain was palpable as you stared up at the familiar high walls and designer light fixture dangling above your body. Your heart rate increased as it dawned on you that you were not in fact in your new bed in your new apartment, but your old bed (albeit, much more comfortable bed) in the house you used to share with the very man you were trying to forget.

“Goddamnit.” You blurted into the air, noticing that you're wearing his old Mickey Mouse shirt you left behind. Looking next to you reluctantly, you thanked god that Kylians side of the bed was far too undisturbed for him to have possibly slept there with you – but maybe you wouldn't rule anything out just yet.

You sat up slowly, noticing your old nightstand provided a tall glass of water, two headache relief pills, and your phone on the charger. 1:30 pm. Holy shit. The last time you slept in that late was when Kylian gave you the flu last year. Poor thing felt so bad… as he should. It was a miserable four days of nothing but puking and Netflix. It’s not a very fond memory and it was definitely not the best idea to think about at this moment because you had to sprint out of bed like it electrocuted you, beelining to the toilet, barely making it before you began to throw up nothing but clear liquid that stung your throat as it shot out.

Kylian heard your footsteps from the floor below you, his heart rate increasing. Finally, you were up. He would have been concerned if he hadn’t been listening to your soft snores whenever he passed by the door, not noticing how he grinned stupidly every time. He stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to cook the only thing he knew you ate while nursing a hangover; two eggs and cheddar cheese on a multigrain bagel with a side of turkey bacon.

He felt like he had his in. He felt like today was finally the day that he could start trying again with you… really trying. Getting through to you has taken time – which is fair enough and he understands your reasons behind waiting – but all he wants is to show you that he’s changed. That he won't revert back to the aloof asshole of a man that wouldn't listen to you. He wouldn’t take you for granted for a second. Losing you was so painful, he couldn't possibly do that to himself again. He couldn't do that to you again.

As you started descending down the stairs, Kylian set you a placemat at your favorite spot by the window, a small bouquet of flowers sat in the center, a glass of orange juice, water, and a mug full of coffee all snuggly placed next to your breakfast… Well, lunch.

The second he saw your sweet frame enter the room with his old shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled, all pouty and squinty, his stomach did flips. You looked so beautiful to him, all he wanted to do was hug you tightly and pepper your face with kisses. One day…

“Hey, sleepy.” He grinned at you, standing next to the table nervously, now feeling like he’s overdone it with the display, twiddling with his hands.

“Is that for me?” You tiredly asked, rubbing your eyes and trudging over to your usual breakfast spot, sitting comfortably in the seat.

He sat across from you, moving the flowers slightly to the left so his view of you wouldn't be obstructed. “Yes, I… um...” He looks at the neat placement of the meal, slightly embarrassed, “If you're not hungry you can save it for later, or… I don’t know.” He waves off, trying his hardest to be cool and nonchalant.

“I’m starving.” You calmed his anxiety, immediately grabbing the hot coffee cup, sipping it and instantly feeling some life make its way back into your veins, humming out in satisfaction.

He mentally fistbumped himself after hearing your thankfulness for his perfect cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?” His hands were neatly folded in front of him, attentive and genuine.

“I think I went brain dead for a while. I forgot how comfortable our mattress is.” You say without noticing you called it our mattress, but Kylians heart pitter-patters inside of his chest at the slip of the tongue. He watches you as you take the first bite out of the bagel sandwich. “My god…” You grumble with a mouth full of the food, chewing every bit with your eyes closed. “This has to be from Tatianos.”

Titianos was the bagel shop just a block down from this home, a shop you two would frequently walk to together when the busy streets looked calmer than usual. “Of course.”

“And the flowers?” You poke, pointing to the daffodils placed between the two of you.

His face cringed slightly. “Too much?”

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head and shrugging. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Oh.” He blushed, biting his cheek in efforts to not look like a doofus. “Sweet, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You tease, playfully tossing a piece of your bacon at him, which he caught and ate happily. It was scary how comfortable you felt around him on this strange morning, especially since you had only the vaguest memories that flash in and out of your head. “So, last night… what happened exactly?”

“Between us? Nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.” He confirms. “You called me super drunk at like 3:30 and said you were alone, so I went looking for you. You didn’t know your address and your phone was dead, so I brought you back here.”

You nod along, remembering some hazy moments as he reminded you. “Did you make me waffles last night?” You ask once the recollection of something crispy and delicious popped into your head.

“You remember waffles before you remember hitting on me?” He baits, quirking an eyebrow.

Oh, god. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Did I really?” You whisper, peeking an eye through the space in your fingers. Kylian laughed, nodding in confirmation. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kylian.”

“Don’t be sorry. You can flirt with me whenever you want.” He beamed, pushing the idea of holding your hand so he could see your face to the back of his mind.

“No, I just mean…” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I really appreciate how respectful you’ve been with not pushing my boundaries since the breakup, and me flirting with you probably didn’t help you.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I can handle it.” He assures, a sly grin forming in his features. “I know I’m irresistible. It’s been a struggle my whole life.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the goofy side of Kylian, missing his overly confident commentary. “Well, then… I’m sorry about telling you about me and Haaland last time I saw you… I would have kept it to myself if I knew that it would affect you on the pitch–”

“–You don’t need to apologize to me for anything, (Y/N).” He established, looking you in the eye. You stared back, lost in the deep brown of his eyes, reeling you in with how warm you he made you feel with just some simple eye contact. Kylian cleared his throat, he himself feeling exceptionally vulnerable. “So, I was thinking…” He stopped, gulping and toying with a napkin sheepishly. “Maybe, only if you're ready… would you like to go on a second first date with me?” The words came out slowly as Kylian subtly shrinks into his seat, looking up, then looking away.

You pause and you swear you are able to hear the thump of his heartbeat from across the table. If you were ready to go back to him or not really was a coin toss. It’s only been two months, but in those two months, you have seen the change that Kylians made in effort to get you back. You never stopped loving him, never. And he certainty has shown you that he never stopped either.

“When?” You speak up, catching his wide eyes.

“Whenever you’re free.” He breathes out. You give him a look as if to scold him for not taking charge – a hint he understands instantly. “Tonight.”

You gulp down the last of your coffee, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Unashamedly, you enjoyed the power of making him sweat, tapping your finger pensivly on the wooden table. It provides some weird satisfaction after you hurt for so long. It sounds bad but it’s not something you can help. You hint at a grin, tilting your head to the side. “Okay.”

Kylians lungs deflated in relief, not being able to hold back a goofy and wide smile, wishing he could celebrate this moment as if he just scored a last minute goal in the world cup. “That’s great!”

“Nothing too over the top, though, alright?” You request, feeling your cheeks wanting to dimple upon seeing the happiness radiating from the man in front of you, but needing to keep your composure more.

“I promise.”

“Good.” You leave it there, taking a couple more bites of the sandwich until you were too full to continue.

Kylians smile was like it was tattooed, eyes glimmering. You gave him a weird stare, wiping your mouth. “What? Do I have something on my face, or…?”

He shakes his head, laughing off the question while looking down. “No, no. Sorry.”

You knew he was just happy about finally getting you on a date. Honestly, so we’re you. Obviously it was a bitter sweet thing. The feeling of missing Kylian was like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. Not even when you’ve broken up with your past partners has it felt this empty, this lonely. You hoped it wasn’t just the hangover sabotaging you into feeling a little extra needy… but you needed him. You really did.

Even while you gathered your things together, you were feeling apprehensive over going back to your new place, wanting nothing more than to sink into your spot on the couch in Kylian’s living room — the spot that you fall into so perfectly after years of claiming it as yours.

Though Kylian offered to take you home, you insisted on just Ubering (which he insisted he pay for). It’s difficult to find a way to say goodbye to him as you found yourself in a position you've been in before, hating the pit in your stomach as you stood in the familiar spot by the front door, ready to leave. Facing Kylian as he watched you go put a bad taste in your mouth, reminded you of your birthday. Reminded you of the most painful night of your life.

He sensed that you two were on the same page, shuffling uncomfortably in his place. “So…” He filled the silence.

“Um, I’ll just meet you here?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nods. “6:30?”

“Okay. 6:30. I’ll see you later, I guess.” You let out a dry and awkward laugh as you opened the door. Kylian watched your every move with the worst case of deja vu turning his stomach over and over, having to look away. Your feet stopped you from walking to the Uber waiting for you, turning around. “Kylian.” He instantly met your eyes. “Um... Thank you.”

Kylian froze, engrossed in the genuine way that your words came out. They felt heavy, meaningful. He wanted to tell you he’d do anything for you, that you didn’t need to ever thank him because he just loves you; but the door shuts behind you before even a sound could escape his lips.

It was like the air went stale the second you walked out the door, he physically felt how much he missed you already. But he knew he’d see you in just a few hours, and he had some prepping to do.

Your new apartment wasn’t exactly… nice. Or safe. Or spacious. Or free of roaches. The handle of your door always got stuck and you were left foolishly jiggling it until it gave way. Your asshole of a landlord has yet to respond to your multiple texts about it, much less anything else you’ve filed complaints about in the short time you’ve occupied this space.

The water pressure was shit, but the boiling stream that relaxed your muscles felt like heaven, anyway. It washed away the thick layer of the Sunday-scaries that weighed you down on this strange day. Shower thoughts overtook your brain, and you got to thinking about Kylian.

The months of doubt he put you through were unbearable. You constantly felt like a burden in his life when all you wanted was to be there for him. The sleepless nights you spent pondering over where it all went wrong and nothing ever coming to mind… The anxiety of every argument or uncomfortable prolonged silences that left you confused and insecure… These moments weren't few and far between, but a steady new normal you'd convinced yourself would eventually get better. Those moments showed you what he was capable of turning into.

On the other hand, you knew the other side of Kylian. That side is the one you knew in your heart was the real him. He loved the fact he knew all your quirks, your routine, your favorite brand of cereal, your deepest worries. It was just easy with him, just like it should be. The compatibility was undeniable from the get-go. He was always so affectionate before, having to hold your hand in public or smack your ass in the kitchen or else he'd implode. He always reminded you how much you meant to him. That you were the love of his life. Kylian would say this with eyes that glimmered, confirming that his intentions were true. It's like whenever he spoke to you tenderly it went directly into your heart until it began beating just for him. You always thought dependency in that way was unhealthy... but you still found yourself to place Kylian in the category of necessity.

Living without him was a life you weren't sure was possible for you.

It was almost four o'clock when you got out of the shower and you had picked out a nice little casual outfit to wear. He better have kept his word about the 'nothing too over the top' promise because if he surprised you with tickets to the opera, you'd surly be denied entry in jeans and a tank-top, even with your nice leather jacket you purchased in Italy.

You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. This night could go horribly wrong. Maybe he'll show that he's still the Kylian you left two months ago. Maybe you'll spot signs to not go through with this. Maybe he'll forget about these plans altogether and leave you stranded once more on a night you expect him to be around for.

But, even worse... It could go wonderfully right. He could be a gentlemen and woo you. He could say the all right things and make your heart swell at his addictive laugh. That's scarier than any worst case scenario you could possibly come up with.

The time came to drive to Kylains apartment, and as you got closer, the familiarities of the roads brought you back to happier times. The way you avoided every pothole and recognized peculiarities you'd become accustomed to seeing every time you would go home felt like a heavy sentiment you didn't have time to explore before arriving at the large home. Before you knew it, you were kocking on the door, anxiously wiping your sweaty hands down the material of your jeans.

Through the window, you saw Kylian jogging to answer, abrupty opening the door with the biggest and most authentic smile you'd seen him exhibit in a while... including the months leading up to your separation.

"Bonjour." He quips, cloth towel tossed over his shoulder and the smell of something delicious had your mouth watering.

"Hi." You smiled back, stepping into the home as he stepped aside, allowing you to come in. "Are you cooking something?"

"Yeah. I thought we could have dinner here. I hope that's okay." He explained, wiping his hands.

His nerves were undeniable cute. "That's perfect." You begin walking toward the kitchen, setting your purse down and peeking at the simmering food on the stove. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Well, to start, french onion soup. Then we have coq au vin with caprese salad, and for desert, crème brûlée. Hope you're hungry."

"That sounds... amazing." The kitchen was messy, but you could tell he did some quick tidying up before you got here. Kylian never closed the cabinets, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling when you noticed every door was wide open. "So, you took up cooking, huh?" You say as you close the doors that hung from the hinges quickly before leaning over to sneak a peak at your dinner.

He shuffled around to stand next to you, stiring as an excuse to be close. "No, not really." He laughed. "I've been following a recipe and I've been on facetime with my mom the entire time."

You wanted to coo at him, your feelings of fondness bubbling like the sauce on the stove. "How is Fayza? Aw, I miss her." She was such an angel to you, always. You'd become so close to her, especially since you'd been living so far from your family for so long now. She truly made you feel like you were part of the family. You wished you'd called her or Wilfreid or Ethan after the break up, but it was just so painful.

"She's good. Dealing with some rabbits in her garden but... she misses you. Like, really misses you." He says the last part lowly. He didn't want to make you feel bad, it's just that his mother hadn't taken the break up very well. She was so excited for the wedding, to watch her son get married to the love of his life, to officially have you be a part of the family. It'd been years you'd spent Christmas with them perfecting a triple chocolate cookie recipe. Years of sitting with you in the stands of Kylians matches. Years of watching you be so good with her grandchildren, getting ahead of herself and thinking about obtaining a few more.

You couldn't say anything back, hearing the timer beep. Kylian put on your strawberry-patterned oven mitts and took out two ramekins from the oven.

"Wine?" He offered, picking up a bottle of red and topping off his own glass.

You shook away your distress about Fayza and the family, sucking in a sharp breath. Wine sounds amazing. "Please."

He poured you a glass, handing it to you and placing himself comfortably in front of you, tipping his own toward you. "Santé."

You clicked your glass together with his, taking a bigger sip than you probably would have in a normal situation. Kylian kept eye contact with you, but you looked away with a bashful chuckle. His eyes were too versed in the language of how to make you melt. Maybe wine wasn't a great idea.

Kylian lifted the lid on the large pot, stirring for a second before turning off the flame. "This looks about done... I hope."

You press your side to his, reaching over to grab a spoon and finding a carrot. You felt Kylain's stare, the warmth he provided with the minimal contact made you flustered. You bit into the perfectly seasoned vegetable, tender and buttery. "Mhm..." You muttered. "Damn, Ky. You should've been cooking for me years ago."

"Well, I'd be happy to be the chef in this relationship from now on." He said with a bold blush.

Relationship.

He heard it the second the word slipped from his mouth. You froze, blinking at Kylian who also seemed to stop all movement. "I'm sorry. I wasn't... I–I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine." You waved off, setting the spoon down and giving him a reassuring smile.

He nods apologetically, taking the spoon from your hand, purposefully brushing his fingers with yours and dipping it in the saucy dish. He hums at the taste. "Is there anything I can't do?"

You laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Shut up." He laughed along, loving the flow of the light banter... how it was before.

You sat at the table when he said he needs to plate the food, watching him scramble around the kitchen ungraciously, reopening every cabinet door and leaving it that way. He made quick time, balancing two soups and a basket of buttered baguette slices.

"You ready?" He nodded toward the patio door, opening it expertly with his elbow.

"Um... are we not eating at the table?" You question, confused but getting up anyway, grabbing both your glass and his, seeing as his hands are full.

He holds the door open for you, grin tattooed on his face as he see's your eyes light up at the setting he's created on the patio. The outdoor dining gazebo was decorated with strung up lights, candles lined up in the center of the table. There was a pattered tablecloth covering the hardwood with two chairs facing each other, the warm light created a sense of romance and intimacy. The sweet gesture showed how much effort he put into this simple date.

"You did all this for me?"

"Of course." He chimed, placing the small bowls of soup and bread down. You watched tenderly as he pulled out the chair facing the beautiful view that overlooked the gorgeous city, the sun had just started it’s descent into the horizon, painting the sky with hints of orange and pink. Your smile was flirtatious as you sat down and he tucked your chair in, taking the opportunity to be close to you.

This was always your favorite place to watch the sunset. You missed that view, your eye never leaving the skyline as you sat with a bashful blush. Your apartment now faced the brick wall of the building next to you. The closest thing to a view you get now is your neighbors golden retriever barking at the cyclists that ride by.

He sits across from you, placing a napkin on his lap. "Bon appétit."

He watches intently as you spoon your first bite, getting a bit of everything. "It's good?" He asks impatiently, trying it himself.

"Mother of god, Kylian. What the hell. It's delicious." You say approvingly. He gets a big head easily, so usually you kept your compliments subdued to avoid him becoming competitive with you in every aspect of your lives, but that soup brought you somewhere else.

The sun was setting slowly, as if the sky was begging you to appreciate this beautiful moment, savor it as long as possible. Halfway through the main course, the sun broke through the clouds that had occupied the heavens all day long. You audibly gasped at the phenomenon, feeling the golden sun warm your face, squinting slightly as you tried your best not to look directly at it.

“Oh, wow… Kylian. Look at the sky.”

He didn’t want to. The way the light illuminated your features, it was like he was seeing you in the highest definition. You might as well have had a filter on, because to him, you look supernaturally perfect. The slight breeze tussling your hair, the way your irises saturated in color with the suns natural light, the shadow just above your cupids bow drawing his attention to your undeniable lips… his heart grew in size, swelling and beating just for you. He was happy you were here. Happy he didn’t just give up on you. He wanted this feeling forever.

He stood up, reaching his hand out to you from across the table. You took it willingly, letting him lead you to the large patch of grass just a few yards from where you ate.

With your eyes hypnotized by the swirling clouds of colors, you sat on the slightly overgrown greenery, feeling the cold blades tickle between your fingers. Kylian sat with you, pinky finger brushing yours, enjoying the natural silence that was drowned out by ambiance. Birds chirping, tree branches rustling, your soft breathing, and his heart pattering.

He did his best to keep his eyes forward, wanting to enjoy the same sky as you were, but your beauty trumped even the most beautiful of sights. You were so mesmerized you didn’t even notice the way he gazed at you, feeling himself fall deeper in love, knowing that might cause him more troubles but found nothing inside of him that cared.

“It’s incredible.” You murmured. It really was the most fantastic sunset you’ve seen. One of those that sucks you in, the subtle changes overtime darkening the sky until you can spot the stars. You miss it when it’s ending, knowing you’ll only get a couple more minutes of this view.

As he looked up and around, Kylian suddenly felt the weight of your head resting on his shoulder, stiffening for a second before relaxing his tense muscles to allow himself to enjoy the contact. Minimal, intimate, familiar… the simplest things about you were always his favorite. His head lulled until his cheek hit the top of your head, remembering the sweet coconutty scent of your shampoo. Everything about that moment was nostalgic… perfect. Absolutely perfect.

When the moons shift began, you thought about lifting your head, but the comfort of having him back forced you to stay. You scooted closer, initiating him to do the same. Cautiously, he moved an arm behind your back, allowing you to rest against him almost completely. You melted into the gesture, relishing in every ounce of this moment in time.

“Kylian…” You whispered.

“Yes, bébé.” The nickname rolled off his tongue as if the word was created for only you.

You hesitated, focusing your eyes on the waning moon. “I don’t wanna regret this.”

Kylian felt your worry in his own chest, bringing his arm around yours, pulling you into him more. You let him hold you, you let the heat of him overtake your senses, your brain, your emotions. The feeling of his lips pressing to your temple was fleeting, but the aftershock sent waves from the spot, forcing your eyes to close in contentment.

He dipped his head slightly lower to speak to you, to whisper to you. There was no one around, no one to listen into the words he was going to say, but they were meant for only the woman he adores. Even the wind was a threat, not wanting them to get lost and blown away. “I could spend my whole life searching for someone else, but my heart will only ever be yours. You are irreplaceable, mon amour.” He hugged you tighter. “I’ll never make you wonder again. I promise.”

Your body turned, your head dipped into his chest, and suddenly, you were engulfed in him — both arms securing your body inside of his. You allowed yourself to fill your lungs with his aroma, something ineffable coursing through your body. It was like a switch flipped and your heart just knew that this was right. This was it.

Kylian felt it to. Fireworks burst inside his chest and the feeling was so overwhelming he worried he’d become embarrassingly emotional. Holding you again felt like home, like the stars aligned, like everything was suddenly okay again.

The pair of you sat there for a while, Kylian thumb brushed against your arm soothingly, once in a while clutching you. It was like he was scared you’d slip right out of his arms, like he’d wake up any second now and realize you were never there at all… but you were. Your nuzzled face in his neck fit like the last bit of a puzzle. The serenity that stood still against the breeze was just pure confirmation that you belonged together. That this relationship could be mended, healed, saved.

“Thank you for not giving up on us.” He placed the words carefully on the top of your head, this side of the world now dark, colder, but he’d never felt warmer in his life. The affection radiated and kept him cozy against you.

You look up at him, and even though you’d had a peek at the stars scattered behind the evening clouds, they were all held in his eyes. He was yours. He was yours.

You wanted to say so many things, but found yourself leaning forward instead, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. The pull was just as natural as gravity, just as logical as a magnet. Kylian’s heart thumped so viciously against his rib cage. So much so that you felt it against your own — pressed deliciously against him, knocking the air out from your lungs.

Your lips had yet to touch, finding that you needed time to soak in every movement and breath that radiated from your bodies. You closed your eyes as his nose touched yours, his slow actions coming to conclusion as your lips finally met again, molding into the most intimate kiss you’d ever shared. You were sure of it.

You exhaled together, feeling lighter and more alive. You’d shared millions of smooches, pecks, make outs… you’d seen each other completely naked, explored your bodies like knowing every inch was a life or death matter… but none of it has ever felt this exposed. This was vulnerability at its finest. You’d never felt such a rush of emotion like this. It was electric but calming. An indescribable wave of raw emotions and needs.

You deepened the kiss slightly, shifting so he could lay you down. Kylian hovered over you, lips never leaving yours, wanting to make up for lost time. You tasted better than he remembered. You felt softer than you ever had. He couldn’t hold you closer if he tried.

His hand gently soothed your cheek in a romantic gesture, moving his lips against yours as if they’d planned and practiced for this moment. You put your hand in his cheek, pulling away but not being able to regain control of your closed eyes, the happiness threatening to spill out of you like a sink overflowing.

He touched his forehead to yours, nothing to stop him from placing a meaningful last peck on your puffy lips. His thumb continued to smooth your hairline and a genuine smile was tenderly illuminating his face, the tiniest shadow forming from the candles still burning near your unfinished dinner.

He couldn’t stop the fondness that was about to come out of his mouth, words forming against his will. “Je t'aime tellement. Tellement.” I love you so much. So, so much.

His eyes already told you everything, you didn’t need the verbal confirmation to understand how true those words were, how much he really meant them.

“You don’t need to say it back right now.” He murmured, still flickering down to your lips every other second, missing the feeling of them already. “And that’s okay. I’ll love you forever. I have time to prove it.” He pecked you once more.

Your hand wrapped around to the back of his head and you scratched the nape of it, instantly feeling the goosebumps rise out onto his skin. It made you giggle, sending Kylian to do the same by proxy. “I know.”

You pulled him down and give him one last meaningful kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but you stood up from under him, on your feet as you looked down at the man who just wanted to look at you.

He mentally took a photograph of you and how you looked at this very moment. The moon shining behind you against the faint stars. He wished he could frame this moment in time and keep it in his wallet, show you off to anyone he’d come across.

You reached a hand down. “I believe I was promised crème brûlée?”

He took your hand, but just held it, tracing his thumb over your knuckles. Slowly he sat up so he could kiss each one of them and you found yourself giddy, excited for the sequel of a novel you thought had a finite ending.

How reliving to know there was more to come. How relieving to know there was a future with this man — your wonderful Kylian Mbappé.

A/N: Okay okay okay OKAY you guys... I'm happy with this "ending" :). That being said, I will write an epilogue bc I know I love knowing what happens way after, besides I already have so many cute little ideas for it.

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic, it's the first multi-part fanfiction I've ever written (yes, even in my One Direction phase), so it means so much to me that it had such an overwhelmingly positive response. If I could kiss every single one of you on the lips, I so would. MUAH. MUAH. MUUUAAAHHH!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @http-isabela

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stickthisbig · 5 months

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Look it was a really fuckin rough day and internet drama is what is keeping me afloat so here's some bullshit about Watcher

I don't want to talk about creative decisions. Creators deserve to be paid and TV costs a lot of money, and whether you think a TV model makes sense and reflects the brand's appeal is ultimately a matter of taste.

I want to talk about how much this fuckin thing costs.

If you are going to make a venture like this survive, you must aim at the money. I am the money. I'm financially independent and old enough to have kids who watch the show but have no income, I am a long-time BFU/Watcher fan who's splashed out for merch and a live show, and I've subbed to multiple similar services (RIP Alpha). I am the boring adult that you must convince, because I am the one who can pay for this without a second thought. You will not make it through this on the empty promises of children.

The closest comp to Watcher is not Dropout; it's Nebula. And trust me on this- they would prefer you to compare it to Dropout, because of how much better it makes them look. Compared on full prices (because you can almost always get a discount), Nebula costs half of what Watcher does, for a much, much larger catalog. I am a huge fan of Nebula. I've watched hundreds of hours on Nebula, because there is loads of varied content from creators who have expressed exactly the same wishes for creative freedom as the Watcher team.

And honestly, if we are gonna talk about comparisons to Dropout, you're never gonna be able to watch BFU on this service, so it's apples to oranges anyway.

I am certain that they will make more money percentage-wise through this service. It's not on me to care about their yield from youtube vs a dedicated streaming service vs a partnered streaming deal. That's not my job; I'm not their accountant or their dad. It's on me to look at value for money. I am not a charity, and when you put yourself up as a commodity, I'm gonna kick the tires and leave if I don't like the price.

I'm not going to pay $60 for this, or $42, or $6/month, because it's a bad value on my end. It is less content for more money. $30 still would have been too high, but there was a price point where I, the person with the intersection of money and interest, would have said yes. That is the trade-off: you can wait around forever for somebody to spend $60 and end up with $0, or you can get three people who balked in for $20 each and end up with $60.

Look, we're all friends here, we know the Watcher crew is not so damn dumb that they didn't look into joining an existing streaming service. It's not a fuckin grand revelation that there were potentially other options, and obviously they must have thought about this for longer than ten minutes. But when your service is MUCH more expensive than its closest comparison (Nebula) and the same price as the well-established competitor you'd like to be compared to (Dropout), why on god's green earth would you think I would buy it if I was anything short of obsessed? Where is your growth plan? How is this sustainable? The absolute best plan for me is to wait until the next series of Ghost Files is over, pay $6 to watch the whole series, then cancel again.

Also you're fuckin leaving money on the table by not having delayed VOD on youtube but at this point, that's none of my business.

If it's worth $60 to you and you've got the money, you do what's right for you. But I'm out. No hard feelings! But also no $60.

(Also I do think 100% saying that the back catalog will stay on youtube is a walkback and not what he said in the video, so like, watch that)

#watcher #anyway off to watch some nebula I think #oh yeah I forgot #most of nebula cross-posts to youtube anyway

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angelicguy · 11 months

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whats been infuriating about the american response to gaza is how every pundit and creep imaginable who cannot possibly think of themselves as anything but the perfect analyst for all situations are commenting on seven thousand innocent dead palestinians like they can conceptualize the horror and pain that theyre going through. fat pig fingered media sick americans thinking theyve experienced even a percentage of their pain, its a little game to be analyzed and commented on, waggling their fingers at everyones reactions, fucking sick in the head psychos completely devoid of any real love for a shared human experience. "well actually have you considered that hamas was voted in..." bringing that level of analysis that even approaches justifying seven thousand dead men women and children like theyre morally responsible for whats happened to them. like christ. i dont wanna post about it too much because, yeah, i am also a thick necked dipshit american, my input other than conditionless support is pretty useless, but god damn. how could anyone see whats going on, over 7k dead, and decide their "take" is required at all

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griffonsgrove · 9 months

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Haiii!! These headcanons have been amazing!!! Could I perhaps ask for a Dr.Flug X Reader where they're a famous popstar, please?? tysm!! <3

Dr. Flug X Popstar!Reader

a/n: eeee of course I can write this!! This is a really cute idea, I hope you enjoy!! Im working my way through a few of your guy's requests so bare with me! I plan on maybe doing a few drabbles or headcanons for some other fandoms within the following days so keep a look out for that!

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1026 cw: none! just super cute fluff!

(PLATONIC):

Now that you were starting to gain more and more popularity amongst people, you had been wanting to expand your musical talent to all reaches of life, whether it be good or bad.

Being a famous popstar made it easy to get connections, thankfully, and a little birdie had told you about the infamous ‘Hat Island” that was rumored to be crawling with villains, owned by none other ‘Lord Black Hat’ himself.

You were by no means a saint, let alone a hero, and thought that everyone deserved to have the joy of music, even those of lower status. So what do you do? Schedule a meeting with the most feared villain known to man!

Imagine Flug's surprise when he opens the door to see you standing there.

The man about damn near faints on the spot. A famous super-star, standing right in front of him? AND they're cute?? Oh boy.

He had heard of you when Demencia would loudly blast her music from her boombox, Obnoxious yes, but he would absentmindedly find himself humming your tunes or tapping his foot to the beat while he worked in the lab, much to his dismay.

Eventually that led to him listening to you in his (very little) free time, and he, actually?? Enjoyed?? It??

Now, the tricky part was going to be trying to convince Black Hat to let you hold a concert on his island, This old man intimidated tf out of you, if looks could kill you’d be dead before you even stepped into his office. But, you tried to remain confident.

You offer to pay him for compensation, and give him a small percentage of the profits from your show. How can he refuse that offer? It’s money! He reluctantly agrees to your proposition, and you sign a temporary contract.

For extra gratitude you offer him and his henchman VIP tickets for your show, Black Hat scowls, saying something along the lines of “that frivolous techno music gives me a headache..” But! He doesn't deny his henchmen going!

Of course you don't leave without the eldritch putting the fear of god into you.

Demencia vigorously shakes Flug in excitement, when she finds out they have VIP tickets to your performance, for once the doctor’s eyes light up.

The night of your performance happened to be one of his best memories, he was absolutely enthralled by your singing, and he got to witness all up close!

When he comes backstage to meet you after the show he nearly faints again. You thought he was kind of cute for that really.

You excitedly greet him and his group and chat for a while. Answering questions and sharing stories, you actually find out the two of you have a lot in common! As the evening wraps up you pull him aside privately to give him your number, if he ever wanted to chat. HE NEARLY FAINTS AGAIN.

(ROMANTIC):

That’s how you two began talking. You texted frequently, excitedly sharing each other's interests. Sometimes you’d snap a photo before or after a performance, and he’d send you pictures of his latest invention, or his model airplane collection.

It’s actually you, that ends up asking him out on a date. Through a video call, his reaction was adorable, he looked almost in disbelief but dumbly nodded his head to your confession.

The both of you lead busy lives, so you carefully plan out when you can visit and when he can get the time off. (He sucks up to Black Hat for an entire week).

You settle on something quiet and not far away, you didn’t want to be bombarded by fans or paparazzi during your small visit. It’s at a small cafe, Flug claimed it made the best coffee he’s ever had.

He watches all of your shows btw. Man’s is committed. Whether that be streaming the concert on his phone while he works or going to your shows/events in person whenever you visit the island again. It’s also a plus that he enjoys your music!

You singing to him, ouGHHHH. He’s starstruck every time, entranced by your voice. He really thinks of you as an angel, maybe a siren.

Love songs!! You write several dedicated to him while your dating, he nearly cries when you reveal this to him. Who am I kidding? He totally cried.

He makes you cute little gadgets to make your life a little easier. Like a custom-made microphone for your shows, you use it every time <3.

You SPOIL him. You get that bag (pun intended) and you think he deserves to be treated with everything he could possibly want.

If you ever meet 5.0.5 you best believe you’re treating that bear like your own son. He’s such a sweetie, how could you not? And if you sing him little lullabies to help him fall asleep?? Flug’s heart almost bursts out of his chest. How did he get so lucky??

He often wonders how he bagged you (pun intended). He's pretty insecure of himself already, it really is a mystery to him. He almost feels like he doesn't deserve any of it at all. But of course, you see right through his act, and reassure him endlessly.

You both keep the relationship on the downlow, mainly for your sake. He didn't want your reputation to be ruined if the press found out you were dating a notorious supervillain. You had told him you didn't care what the public thought, but he insisted.

There are numerous photos of you on his phone, not in a creepy way though. Most of them are selfies of two of you, or from photoshoots/concerts. He def has you as his screensaver.

You loooove peppering his bagged face with kisses. He gets so flustered it's adorable!! He secretly loves them. If you wear lipstick, you love seeing the aftermath of your kiss attack, his face painted in a lovely shade of red.

Overall, being in a long-distance relationship definitely has its ups and downs, but Flug thinks it’s all worth it, especially for you, he’s willing to give it a try. How romantic.

#black hat organization #villainous #dr flug #x reader #dr flug x reader #headcanons #villainos #dating headcanons #black hat villainous #blackhat #drflug #drflugxreader #plsprotecthimatallcostoHMYGOD #gender neutral reader #popstar!reader

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kiwiana-writes · 5 months

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I dont think anyone subscribes to you for t rated 5 +1s in your own au lol. Chop chop with those wip’s porn girl!

Well. Quite a bit to unpack here on an otherwise unassuming Friday!

#1:

#2: I actually track this stuff. Admittedly the E-rated percentage is a bit higher if you look at RWRB only, but overall...

#3: I think anyone who subscribes to me on AO3, or indeed anyone who follows the kiwiana-writes tag here on tumblr and sees all those fucking WIPs, knows that I like to write a bit of variety. That's not to say there aren't definite underpinnings of, like, themes and vibes that I return to over and over (which I can only assume are why people subscribe to me), but if someone only likes my college AUs, or only likes my post-canon stuff, or only likes my E-rated stuff, or only wants to listen to my podfics, they're probably going to have a much more successful time saving the tag search than subscribing to me at the author level. Or they've mastered the art of archiving and moving on without complaining about it, like I do when the authors I'm subscribed to write something that doesn't interest me. It's a useful skill! I highly recommend cultivating it.

#4: AO3 not giving series stats is and continues to be the bane of my life, but based on the number of people who subscribed to the OG actor AU, there's probably a significant chunk of people who aren't subscribed to me as an author and only want the actor AU verse stuff. And good for them! I LOVE that AO3 offers multiple ways to subscribe so you can get notified for the stuff you want (my kingdom for the ability to subscribe to individual pseuds, though.)

#5: This fandom is OVERFLOWING right now. Like, I can't keep up. You only want to read E-rated stuff? Awesome! Well over 100 E-rated fics have been posted in the RWRB bookverse tag just this week (it looks like most of the movieverse smut has also been tagged bookverse, but either way it's also very easy to find). Or go back to older fics and find some hidden gems—there's nothing an author loves more than for someone to come in and gush about a fic they wrote a year or two ago.

#6: You don't pay me, and I'm not subject to annual review. One of my favourite authors was talking this morning about how sometimes she thinks about taking a break from writing for RWRB because it's starting to feel a little rat racey, and that would suck for me personally because I love her stuff but god knows I couldn't blame her, because the (extreme minority but still exhausting) entitled comments and rudeness really do not help. Stop treating your favourite authors like content creators who owe you something new on a regular schedule, because that's a damn good way to ensure they don't want to create anything new ever again. Like... anon, you haven't even bothered to couch this in a compliment. The bar is ten feet underground and somehow you still managed to trip over it.

#7: Not to be all 'back in my day' but... well, back in my day, snippets and peeks into the universe of a remotely popular longfic were pretty much the standard lol. Nobody is forcing you to read them, I promise.

#8: I've posted two E-rated fics in the last two weeks.

#9: Honestly I just really want to reiterate #1 because what the hell lol. While pronouns don't equal gender, it's pretty reasonable to extrapolate from pronouns if you don't have any other info to go on—and of the three "main/standard" pronouns, the one most closely associated with 'girl' is the only one that ISN'T in my bio 🤦

#anonymous

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skulla-rxcks · 1 month

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I wish you’d stay another night

Paring: Dick Grayson x f reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: or4l (fem and male rec), drinking, drugs, protected s3x, mention of injuries

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

Dick saw you getting a little too drunk at a party so he had to take you to his place to sober up.

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

It’s 11pm there was a massive party happening in Bruce Wayne’s Mansion, I somehow won an invitation, it was a one in 30 chance to be invited and I somehow got it. It isn’t that surprising as it could’ve been way harder to get in due to it being a party in a billionaires mansion. the party only started half an hour ago and I’m already 6 drinks in, all of the alcohol, drinks and food are all expensive high quality stuff, I didn’t end up reading the alcohol percentage on the drinks due to not being able to because of the flashing lights, but that’s not the worst part. I didn’t know how strong and rich tasting the drinks could be.

I can barely stand or move around without stumbling over myself. I cannot go home like this yet alone take care of myself while drunk. I need to get out of this party and get some fresh air. I place my hand on the wall as I walk trying to keep myself steady, I continue walking slowly, trying to keep my balance.

I look around anxiously praying that no one’s staring at my pathetic attempts to walk, especially important figures in this city, cause oh god that would be so embarrassing, I would fucking kill myself! What if Nightwing saw me like this? He’s helped patch me up after I got stabbed once but being found and saved while being extremely god damn drunk is probably 10 times worse than me being stabbed, that’s just my personal opinion though. I’d rather cry in front of someone instead of them seeing me intoxicated.

I make it to the door and exit the mansion that the party was held in, once I’m outside I sit on a step and take a blunt I rolled up before I left out of my purse, lighting it with a flick of my lighter. I hold the cigarette between my fingers and inhale softly, trying to get my senses back to sober up faster; even though weeds definitely not going to help it, not even a little bit. I don’t have enough money for cigarettes lately so my stash of pot is all I can rely on.

“Y/n? You shouldn’t be doing drugs outside it’s risky, especially outside of Bruce’s property. Look I won’t turn you in or tell anyone but just for future reference”. It’s a man, he has the same physique as Nightwing as well as the same voice. “Who youuu an how do you know my naame..?” I ask, god why do I sound so fucking stupid when I’m intoxicated? “I’m Dick, Dick Grayson, you probably know me better as nightwing, since that one time I saved you. And for your name well, I looked it up in the files, I was curious and wanted to learn more about you and that was the only way to do so.”

He takes a seat next to me on the stairs. “Ohhhh hi dick… hehe, dick..” I lean my head on his shoulder, I reek of alcohol and weed. “You’re drunk, how much did you have to drink?” He takes my hands in his and looks at me sternly in the eyes. “Like 6 or….orrr 6… or mayyybee 7…?” I respond before quickly turning to the side and throwing up on the pavement next to me, holding my head in my hands, it’s pounding and I can hardly feel anything. “Fuck you’re drunk. I’m going to take you back to mine and take care of you for the rest of the night, you’ve had way too much to drink.” He sighs, lifting me onto his back like I’m a child again and bringing me back to his car, he buckles me into the passenger seat before hopping into the drivers seat and starting the car.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry..” I mumble, resting my head against the window. “For what?” He questions.

“that you have to.. to waste time… looking after me” I whine, trying to keep my eyes open, but it’s difficult.

“you’re not wasting any of my time, trust me. I’d rather help you out than some other random drunk guy.” I close my eyes as my head sinks into the car seat relaxing myself as the drive continues on. a few minutes later Dick wakes me up “We’re here. need help getting inside?” he asks. “where are.. where are we…?” I look up at him rubbing my eyes. “my house, hope that’s okay, it was closer after all.” He says, opening the door and helping me out of the car. I wobble along slightly before finally standing up straight with his help.

“My room is upstairs, come on.” He tells me pointing the stairs up ahead. “okay,.” I attempt to walk up the stairs but end up stumbling and falling backwards. Dick grabs my arms to stop me falling backwards and luckily ends up catching me. “careful” he mumbles, taking my hand and helping me get up the stairs and into his room. “Here, lay down here” He places me onto the bed, I’m still drunk but my head feels more clearer now than before. He sits down beside me. “So how do you feel now? Are you still feeling sick? Do you need anything? Food, water..?” His hands are clasped together, he’s nervously tapping on his leg, clearly not used to practically ‘babysitting’ a drunk person. “I’m okay… I think”. I say, yawning a little. My head starts hurting all of a sudden. “ow.. fuck, p-painkillers maybe.” I whisper to myself, feeling a headache coming on. “You want pain killers?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at me. “Yeah please.” I reply, he gets up from the bed and leaves the room. Minutes later he returns and gives me two pill bottles. “Here, the blue ones are for extreme pain, red ones are for slight.”

“whatever you suggest, my heads fucking killing me.” I groan as I open them up and swallow them down accidentally taking a few more than the container prescribes immediately regretting it. “Oh shit!” I yell, grabbing my head in pain, I fall off of the bed and land heavily on the floor. “Hey careful!” He yells running towards me, stopping at the side of the bed. I lift my head out of my hands and see a small trickle of blood dripping down from my head into my hands. “fuck, you’re bleeding. okay, we’re definitely getting you into the shower. come on.”

Dick takes my hand once again this time leading me into his bathroom, he turns on the shower taps, fiddling with them and testing the water to see if it’s not too hot or not too cold, letting me adjust it if I need to. “Come put your hand in the water. Is the temperature okay?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect thank you..”

“can you help me shower?” I ask, looking at him and receiving a nod in response to my question. i strip down until I’m fully nude. the cold air of the bathroom making my nipples hard. once Dick’s undressed we hop in the shower, he makes sure to wash all of the wounds and injuries from all of the fights I’ve been caught up in and around Gotham.

I look down at the shower floor as he washes my hair and back. I watch the excess water drop onto the floor and travel down into the drain to keep myself entertained, I see some blood joining the water. I move so I can face Dick, there’s wounds on his chest and thighs, they seem new, not exactly new but not exactly old. “Dick? you’re bleeding..” I look at him concerned, I reach out and put my hand on his chest, hoping if he’s in any pain contact will soothe it. “it doesn’t hurt” he assures me, moving my hand away. “but..” I look at him sadly, knowing that deep down he knows it does, he just doesn’t want to say that he’s hurt.

“thank you for worrying about me though, I really do appreciate it.” Dick looks at me and smiles softly. He brings his lips towards mine and connects our lips gently. His hands find their way around my waist pulling me closer towards him as he presses himself against me harder. “You taste like alcohol mm..” I pull away from the kiss confused, but still allowing his grip on my waist. “what.. what.. was that for..?” my face turns red with embarrassment, his straight forward actions making me realise that I crave him, I need him. I want him.

“I don’t know, I apologise if I made you uncomfortable I just-“ before he can continue speaking I cut him off by pushing him against the cold tiled wall in the shower, bringing my lips back to his as the warm water sprinkles over us. “Dick.. I want you.” I mutter, putting my arms around his neck and pushing myself against him, feeling him grow hard against my thigh.

“Are you sure? You’re still tipsy.” He asks for my consent, reassuring me, reminding me that Im not fully sober.

“I’m sure..” I giggle, moving my hand down between his legs, cupping his cock with my palm before stroking him softly, trying to convince him to let me do stuff even if I’m still not sober. “Then..fuck.. can you please.. uh, suck me?” He groans, pressing little kisses along my neck. “here in the shower?..” I ask. “Yeah, here. In the shower.” He chuckles. I get down on my knees, not caring if water accidentally gets into my eyes, since that’s not what my goal is. My goal is to make Dick feel good all over. I take him into my mouth, surprised at how many inches he gained just from growing hard. I begin moving my mouth up and down, trying my best to impress him even though I’m definitely not the best at giving blow jobs. I use my hand to stroke his base, since I can’t manage to take all of him into my mouth.

It’s not long until I feel his dick twitch in my mouth, so I continue sucking on it bobbing my head faster now and tightening the inside of my mouth. Feeling his hands gripping onto my hips as he thrusts into my mouth faster. I’m starting to get a bit turned on and excited. who knew just by having someone in my mouth would get me so hot, especially Dick Graysons! “I’m close.. fuck..” He moans out, I nod and increase my mouth skills once again. Not long after he cums down my throat, I swallow it all like a good girl to impress him. “Jesus Christ that was good.. haven’t gotten sucked off that well in years..” Dick groans, pulling his dick out of my mouth and pulling me up to my feet to kiss me deeply once again, this time parting my lips with his tongue and exploring more of my mouth with his.

“Dick? can we go to your room. I need you..”

“of course.” he smiles, leading me into his room where he lies me down on his bed, hungrily prying my legs open to reveal my wet needy cunt, without warning he grabs my thighs and brings my crotch towards his face, beginning to thrust his tounge into my pussy. “mmg…!” I gasp in delight, tangling my fingers in his black messy hair as he starts devouring my pussy like a starved man.

“o-oh my god Dick.. !” I moan, my head falling back into the pillows, I buck my hips upwards trying to get more out of his mouth, as if it weren’t already perfect for me. He takes note seeing that I want more, he takes his tongue out of me and flicks it on my clit, but he also gently thrusts two fingers inside of me curling them upwards to hit that sweet spot of mine inside of me so my dripping hole won’t be lonely. he starts moving his fingers faster inside of me, making me arch my back in pleasure.

“Dick.. I want your dick..”

“Don’t worry baby, I wanna be inside you as well.” He smirks as he moves away from me to get a condom out of the night stand, he rolls it on before positioning himself at my hole. “Ready?” He asks. “M-mhm just put it in.” I beg “please Dick.” His expression changes as I use my manners, looking pleased at my obedience towards him. He pushes inside of me letting both of us letting out loud moans, he stretches me out perfectly, so fucking perfect. “Oh god!” I cry out, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him closely as he moves inside of me, slowly increasing his movements. “So tight..” he whispers into my ear before nibbling on it lightly. “Harder.. more.. please.” I tell him, as a response he starts thrusting even harder than I expected, making me scream louder than I ever have in my entire fucking life, the mixture of both pleasure and pain his cock is giving me makes me feel unreal. “I’m gonna cum..” I warn, hugging him tighter as my orgasm creeps closer and closer towards me like a spider. “Me too. I’ll cum after you don’t you worry.”

Dick says, a mixture of groans falling out between his words. Just hearing his groans is enough to make me cum on the spot, I cry out as I tighten around him, finally cumming, having the best orgasm of my life. Not too long after I feel the weight of the condom fill up, indicating that he came too. “Oh my god.. Dick.. I…fuck.” I kiss him softly before we get underneath the covers.

“Fuck, I needed that. I needed you so badly Y/n thank you.. now how about we get you drunk again so you can stay another night?” Dick winks at me.

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