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ilongfor-the-arts · 10 months

Text

Tea and Music

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut!, language, mild begging, choking, unprotected sex, use of “good girl”

Summary: Part two of Poetry in Motion! These are the events that happen after Marquis meets our ballerina reader.

Word Count: 6.7k

Read Part one HERE!!!

Taglist: @jiawalker

The limo crushed the small stones under its tires as it drove along the white gravel path. The entire estate was completely covered in trees and green once we passed through the golden gates. I couldn't see the sides of the gate from the car, so I assumed his estate extended for miles.

Not a blade of grass was out of place.

I would have flirted with Vincent sooner if I had known he was concealing a mansion.

Our conversation two nights ago was extremely straightforward. He introduced himself, and I asked him one question before he insisted on speaking with me in person.

His address was on a street I'd never heard of before. I thought that perhaps it was in the Paris slums. His fancy suits and elegant demeanor were just a ruse to convince people he was wealthy.

But, alas, he lives in a mansion. Who would’ve guessed?

As the car approached the large front doors, I tried to hide my surprise. His house was something out of a movie. To take it all in, I had to turn my head completely left and right. It possessed at least three levels. It was made of lovely white vintage brick and black shingles. Two poles supported an enormous balcony on opposite sides of the large double front doors.There were dozens of tall arched windows. The architecture was inspired by the French countryside, but it was elevated to the highest level.

It appeared vintage and loved, but not worn.

“Alright madame, we are here.”

My trance was broken by the posh driver.

“Oh, yes.”

He opened the door for me, offering his hand to ensure that I would not be inconvenienced in the slightest.

I could grow accustomed to this type of treatment.

I hoisted myself up by grasping his smooth palm.

“Have a pleasant visit, madame.”

He spoke with a classy accent. His elegance, however, couldn't compete with Vincent's. The elderly driver jumped back into the driver's seat and began bustling away, rocks crunching beneath the tires.

I cocked my head upwards, hesitant. I could feel nerves brewing within my stomach. The butterflies were flying free. I took a deep breath, steadying my mind.

I honed in on the rustling of the trees, waiting until the butterflies had completely dissipated.

I couldn’t believe I was about to enter the home of a man I had just met.

I knew his name.

I knew he liked ballet.

I knew where he lived.

And, that’s it.

I climbed the few steps leading to the glass double doors.

Should I knock?

No, he was expecting me.

I gently pushed open the door. The hinges didn't creak in the least.

The doors opened to reveal a large room with white marble floors and a double staircase that swirled to the top floor. The banisters were made of gold, the dark wood walls were covered in expensive-looking paintings, and each room was separated by a large, open arch.

“Hello? I’m here!”

The waves of my voice echoed around the large, nearly empty room. I felt dwarfed by the high ceilings.

“Welcome.”

my heart skipped a beat. Vincent appeared out of nowhere, sauntering through the archway on my left, hands in pockets.

He remained silent, waiting for me to break the tension.

“Uh-Thank you for having me… your house is beautiful.”

As the gravity of the situation became clear, my tone became somewhat shaky. Vincent gave a small smile.

“Thank you very much. I have quite a few estates-“

Woah, woah, woah. A few estates? As in more than one?

“But this one is by far my favorite. It’s lavish, and quiet.”

The trees gently rustled. In the distance, birds chirped. My heart was pounding in my ears.

“See? Nothing. No sounds except those of nature.”

My knees shook. Those two previous statements felt like one big, blatant sexual innuendo. I hoped that sex wasn't the sole reason for having me in this lovely estate that just so happened to have no neighbors for miles.

He leaned against the wooden arch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. Vincent furrowed his brow as he observed my concern.

“Please, don’t be worried. I know I was just given the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance. But, I assure you, I possess a sophisticated character.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards.

“Come.”

He said this as he stepped away from the arch, motioning for me to follow him into the next room.

“I have something I believe you will enjoy.”

I returned his stare. His beautiful eyes shone with warmth. He seemed to have changed slightly now that I was in his house. He appeared to be... more at ease. Neither his gaze nor his tone indicated any discomfort. He was no longer concerned with maintaining any sort of facade.

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

I smiled.

“Alright.”

My short heels clacked against the marble. As I strolled past him, I captured his familiar scent and was overcome with nostalgia.

The room I entered was significantly smaller than the one prior. Rather than being adorned in paintings, there was merely one green landscape above the unlit fireplace. One wall was entirely covered in wooden shelves, each of which was crammed to the brim. When I looked closer, I noticed that each section was filled with vinyl records. Some are still wrapped in plastic, while others have clearly been loved for years.

“Oh wow! You have quite the collection!”

I exclaimed as I ran my fingers along the spines of various records. Marquis laughed, amused by my intense interest.

“Oh wow!”

I had to use a surprising amount of force to pry one of the vinyls off the shelf as it was jammed into a completely full rack.

“You have the music from Giselle!”

Vincent strolled over to me, leaning over my shoulder to observe what had captured my attention. It was a record, with a lady and man engaged in dance. The lady wore a blouse and bodice, while the man donned tights and a decorated top.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

His hot breath cascaded across my face and neck as he inquired. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he had placed his frame directly behind mine.

“Yes, I do. I was in it a long time ago. And, ever since it’s been one of my favorites.”

“Ah, you were in it?”

I flipped the vinyl to the back, reading each track and reminiscing.

“Yes, I was Giselle.”

“But of course you were.”

I scoffed, dismissing his high opinions of me.

“It really was not that impressive. It was a small community theater, and it was years ago before I decided to pursue ballet professionally.”

“It makes little difference where you do it. I'm sure you danced as well as someone from the Opéra National de Paris. Your talent is just as visible in a small theater as it is in the world's largest.”

I pushed my finger between two vinyls to create a gap so I could slip the record back into its original position.

“You flatter me.”

Vincent dragged his fingertips along the spines. As he did so, I fixed my attention along his veiny digits, my brain beginning to slip into places it hadn't been in a long time. I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to return to the present. Vincent drew his gaze across the records, studying them and searching for a specific item.

“Ah!”

He discovered what he was looking for.

“Swan Lake, another one of my favorites.”

He pulled it from the shelf and began to study it.

“Tchaikovsky's music is a work of art. He manipulates the instruments, allowing them to move in a poetic manner. It truly is unparalleled.”

He cocked his head to the side, meeting my eyes.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

He raised his brows, inviting me to respond. I shuffled towards his hot body, nodding.

“Yes, of course, it’s a classic.”

This cover depicted a woman bending over a lake, with a swan at her side. Beautiful blues were used to paint the entire cover.

“One of my dream roles is the swan queen.”

Vincent's lanky fingers pried the record's cover apart, and he slid the vinyl into his palm.

“One day, that role will be yours. I have no doubt about it.”

He handled the record with extreme grace and care. Despite being a large and rather intimidating man, his touch was featherlight. He opened a small cabinet located in the middle of the shelves with his opposite hand, revealing a beautiful maroon record player.

“And when you appear as the swan queen, it will be your role for the rest of your life. The audience will know instantaneously that no performance before or after yours will compare.”

Vincent placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound of a rich oboe filled the entire room. He placed his hands on his hips and viewed the black circle spin in a circle. The atmosphere became cozy and inviting. Despite being in a secluded mansion in the middle of the French countryside, I felt oddly at home. My heartbeat was regular.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you drink tea?”

He inquired.

I was so enthralled by Vincent's lovely figure that I had to shake myself awake when he spoke.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I love tea.”

Vincent unbuttoned the cuffs of his white dress shirt, rolling his sleeves up to reveal lovely veins dancing across his forearms. I gulped, my face growing hotter as butterflies began to hatch within my lower abdomen.

“Would you care to drink tea with me on the porch as we indulge in this lovely music?”

I nodded, unable to hide the grin playing on the corners of my mouth.

“I would like that very much.”

Vincent brought out a large silver tray, atop which was a lovely china set with pink flowers and gold stems.

“I would expect a wealthy man like you to have help. Rich men don’t make their own tea.”

I said, my tone slightly mocking. Vincent chuckled, plopping down onto the cream colored cushions.

“I don't usually make my own tea. But I specifically requested that we spend the day alone. The bustle of people detracts from the peaceful energy.”

I put a sugar cube in one of the adorable cups and poured tea on top, watching the sugar break and dissolve.

I picked up the saucer and leaned back, my body relaxing against the plush cushions. I had a fantastic view. My back was to the house, leaving the entire garden open for inspection. The green stretched as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by a few healthy trees. The property had a gray gravel path that twisted and turned. At the horizon, the gentle hill of the land met the flawless blue sky.

The scenery was lovely. I wish I knew how to paint.

My hair was tousled by a gentle breeze. The soothing music wafted through the house, reaching my ears as a mere whisper.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the cozy energy as I sipped my tea. The steaming liquid poured down my throat, warming me from within.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

I rested the cup in my lap.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I feel like we talk so much about me.”

I said, chuckling slightly.

Vincent sipped his tea while crossing his legs and gazing out at the horizon. His gorgeous side profile was highlighted by the gentle glow of the sun.

“My life is… not very interesting.”

His demeanor had transformed. Instead of being charming, he had become aloof.

“Oh, I’m sure your life is plenty interesting. I mean, come on, this house is ginormous! What do you do?”

Vincent grit his teeth, avoiding the question.

“I made all of my money in real estate.”

He returned my gaze, his fondness restored.

“Oh! That sounds interesting.”

I took another sip of my delicious tea.

“You must’ve gotten extremely lucky.”

He flashed me a tight smile.

“Yes, absolutely. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be where I am now.”

The birds in the distance chirped peacefully, blending with the music to create a cohesive energy that flowed through my being.

“Please, tell me if I am crossing any boundaries with this question.”

I perked up. He had piqued my interest.

“However, you are a very attractive woman. And you are constantly expressing yourself through the arts. I find it difficult to believe you don't have suitors flocking to you at all times.”

I gulped, my gaze fixed on the tea in my lap.

“Well, honestly, it’s difficult to keep a relationship when you’re constantly either in the theater, or searching for your next opportunity. The little free time I have almost never lines up with the free time of others.”

He fixed his gaze on me, listening intently to every word I said. I'd never had a conversation with a man who was so enthralled by me.

“I’ve had relationships, but it's difficult to make them stick. Lately, I’ve kinda given up. It’s stressful, y’know?”

Vincent hummed.

“Yes, I can imagine.”

He sipped his tea one last time, leaning back completely to display his stunning neck. He leaned forward and placed the china cup atop its saucer before assuming his previous position.

"Well, with me, you never have to worry about that, ma chérie." My few important obligations rarely interfere with my personal life. And, if they do, I promise to commit to our relationship and not let it fall through the cracks."

His dedication surprised me. I raised my brows.

“Well, that is very kind of you. I appreciate the reassurance.”

“That is, if pursuing a relationship with me is something that entices you.”

His statement piqued my interest. I suppose I hadn't considered the question, "What are we?" I was definitely interested in pursuing a relationship with him, despite only having become acquainted a few days ago. I felt a genuine connection, and I'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Also, the reality that he was filthy rich drew me to him.

I finished the sweet tea, placing it on the black wire coffee table.

“Yes, I believe I would be interested in that.”

I gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

“Good, I am glad to hear that.”

He folded his hands and tucked them into his lap, his gaze following. He was deep in thought, as if caught between reality and his thoughts. Vincent came to after what seemed like an eternity. He returned his gaze to mine. His attention had been drawn to a new emotion. He was looking at me with calculating eyes, as if he was carefully pondering what to say next.

This was unusual for him, as he always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy when I say this, but I have been admiring you for a while.”

To be honest, I didn't mind. And I didn't think he was creepy at all for expressing his admiration for me.

“In all honesty, I’m flattered. The way I see it, I wouldn’t put myself on the stage if I was afraid of extreme admiration. I mean, that is kind of the goal of a performer. Y’know, to make people fall in love with the performance.”

Vincent nodded, his smile widening. He was pleased with my response.

“I recall seeing you perform for the first time. It was about two years ago, in Coppélia. You played a minor role, but your beauty captivated me, and the more I sought you out, the more I fell in love.”

There was something sensual about the thought of Vincent admiring me from afar for years. It all seemed so forbidden, him watching me from a box, carefully calculating the best time to ask me out.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

Vincent shrugged.

“I assumed you were in a relationship. I tried to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. Then I didn't see you at the Opéra national de Paris for a year. My job was particularly demanding at that time. It was best if I concentrated solely on that. So I didn't go looking for you. I assumed that chapter of my life had come to an end. Then I notice you're performing in La Bayadère. And I knew that whatever force governs our universe had given me the opportunity to become your acquaintance.”

I couldn’t stop my face from breaking into a grin. I’ll admit, it felt insanely good to be admired by someone.

“Are you a nostalgic person?”

Yes, extremely.

“Yes, I am.”

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, rising to his feet.

“In that case, I have one more thing I think you would like to see.”

I followed him through the house. If I didn’t have him, I would undoubtedly be lost. Each lavish hallway felt as if it extended for miles. I followed, and followed, and followed. Until eventually we reached a pair of black double doors. They were covered in beautiful flower designs. Vincent turned the golden knobs, pushing the doors open to reveal… a bedroom?

Wow.

It was a nice bedroom, to be sure. The floors were tan wood, and the walls were a dark brown color. A large, black chandelier hung from the ceiling with an expensive crystal thread. The bedframe, curtains, and dresser with a large mirror all looked like they were plucked from the queen's bedroom.

In fact, the whole place felt like it belonged to a king. The gold accents, intricate details, and visibly expensive fabrics all gave me the impression that I was in Buckingham Palace.

Vincent headed over to his dresser, which was located on the opposite side of the room as the bed. He began rummaging through various objects, searching for something.

“Ah! Here it is! I knew I kept it!”

He gave me... a leaflet? No, it's a program. It was the program from my first performance ever at the Opera Nacional de Paris, Coppélia. My eyes shot open.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you kept this!”

I flipped through it, reading the names and contemplating all the wonderful people I'd had the pleasure of working with.

“Of course I kept it.”

I raised my eyes to him. He smiled, pleased that I had found enjoyment in this little bit of nostalgia.

“Um-”

I began.

“I-I don’t mean to take your memories from you.”

I said with a small laugh.

“But, would you mind if I kept this?”

“But of course! There is no need for me to keep a silly little booklet now that I have had the pleasure of meeting the object of my affection.”

We shared a moment of peaceful, happy silence.

“Besides, if it makes you happy, I'll gladly give it to you. We've decided to pursue a relationship. So, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to please you.”

His gaze darted to my lips before returning to my eyes, implying something taboo.

His eyes grew dark. My posture became stiff. Vincent took a large step towards me, and I had to tilt my head almost completely backwards to look him in the eyes.

I was hit with a wave of déjà vu. I was no longer on the streets of Paris, but rather in Vincent's bedroom. This time, there was nothing preventing us from delving head first into our desires.

He cupped my cheek, running his calloused thumb over my cheekbone. My breath caught in my throat. My lower abdomen was in knots, more from anticipation than from nerves. There wasn't much that could happen on the dark streets of Paris. But suddenly everything was possible and within reach. All I had to do was reach out and grab them.

“The relationships you’ve been in… have any of them had the pleasure of…”

His voice trailed off, beckoning me to finish the thought.

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat.

“No.”

My voice quivered as I felt overpowered by his pressing gaze.

Vincent tutted crispy.

“Pity.”

He stated, his voice lowering to a sensuous whisper. I envisioned him whispering sweet nothings into my ear while thrusting mercilessly into my tight cunt.

My stomach flipped.

My knees shook.

All of the blood in my body rushed to my core.

Wetness began to pool in my panties.

I adjusted my weight uncomfortably, anticipating Vincent's next move.

He leaned forward, his lips inches away from mine. I desperately wanted to break the tension by pressing my mouth to his, thereby beginning the downward spiral of pleasure. However, my train of thought was derailed when I felt Vincent’s opposite hand glide up my thigh.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sighing in pleasure as his digits swiftly located my clothed clit. He tenderly massaged my sensitive bud. The subtle sensation was utterly euphoric. My head bowed forward, my hands anxiously clutching his white dress shirt.

Vincent jerked my head upwards, forcing my misty eyes to lock with his lust blown pupils.

“You’re already so wet, ma chérie. And I have barely even touched you.”

His velvety accent became 10 times more seductive now that it had fallen an octave.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful to watch you come undone.”

He pressed his plush lips to my jugular, applying gentle kisses to my neck as he continued to draw figure eights onto my clothed clit. I threw my arms around his neck, hanging onto his strong frame as my knees threatened to give out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs and taste your sweet little cunt.”

I couldn’t handle the erotic tone combined with the featherlight touches to my clit. It was far too much for my touch starved body to handle. needed something. I was ravenous for his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I wanted so badly to be destroyed by him, to be given such pleasure that I fear coming back to reality.

“Vincent.”

I said between heavy breaths.

“Yes ma chérie?”

My jaw hung upon, mouth unable to form coherent sentences.

“P-Please. I need you-I need you so bad.”

Vincent drew back, his lips slamming into mine. Our mouths matched like puzzle pieces. We were so glorious together that I swear I could hear angels singing in perfect harmony.

“What would you like me to do to you ma belle, hm?”

He said in between fiery kisses.

“Make me cum, Vincent, please.”

His tongue slid into my mouth, giving me a fleeting taste of his passion before he quickly yanked it back. I was flustered. Our connection had been severed, and I was unsure as to why.

Vincent grasped my chin, forcing me to keep my head still.

His hair was struggling to remain neat. The single, dangling strand was a great metaphor for his once well-kept demeanor now crumbling before my eyes.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.”

He demanded.

Mt jaw quivered. His hand had retreated from my core and now lay atop the swell of my hip.

“P-Please Vincent. I need you. I need you so bad.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

“Oh, ma chérie, I know you can do better than that.”

He placed his lips to mine, swiftly reigniting the flame before suffocating it once more.

“Be my good girl and beg.”

I locked gazes with Vincent, feeling his sexual energy course through my body in waves.

“Please-“

I began, my desire somewhat strangling the words within my throat.

“Please Vincent… Please, I need you to make me cum.”

I brought my palms to his chest, attempting to quickly unbutton his dress shirt. Unfortunately, my hands were far too jittery and the buttons were far too small for me to make any significant progress.

“What exactly do you want ma belle, hm? Tell me.”

His velvety accent wafted through me whenever he spoke, adding to the wetness that had begun to pool in my panties.

“Please, please. I need you.”

Thankfully, the sexual tension had subsided just enough for me to compose meaningful sentences.

“Please, please, I need you. I need your mouth between my legs. I need-I need you to fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please, please make me cum it’s all I can think about.”

A devious smirk spread across Vincent’s face.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He connected our lips, reigniting the raging fire of desire that burned between us. Vincent hoisted me off the floor, his large hands traveling up my short sundress and resting against my ass. He carried me with ease, his hands gentle but his lips aggressive.

Vincent tossed me onto the bed with little regard for tenderness. However, I was barely impacted by the blow, as the mattress quickly suppressed and conformed to my physique.

I lay, my gaze fixed upwards towards Vincent’s lanky frame. The dim yet sensual lights foregrounded the sharp curvatures of his face. His long digits located his top button and he began to leisurely undo his shirt without breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, I became aware that my dress had ridden up my thighs, exposing my evident desire. I grasped the hem, pushing it downwards in a futile attempt to conceal my yearning. Vincent ceased his movements, crawling over the end of the bedframe with haste.

His hand wrapped around my wrist, pinning my hand above my head.

My eyes darted upwards, the breath hitching in my throat as I perceived his close proximity. Vincent’s previously quintessential appearance was slowly dissolving. A few strands of hair had broken loose from their original location and were now dangling aimlessly above his brow. Furthermore, his shirt was halfway undone, exposing his prominent collarbone and somewhat highlighting his toned chest.

“Don’t cover up for me, ma belle.”

He murmured, his sultry accent sending a wave of desire to my lower abdomen. My cunt throbbed.

“I want nothing more than to see every inch of you.”

Vincent lodged his thigh between my legs, his clothed knee grazing against my hot core. I jolted, a wave of heat coursing through my body. My back arched instinctively, mouth falling open as I involuntarily ground my hips against his thigh in an effort to increase friction.

Unfortunately, he revoked his leg before I was able to procure further pleasure. His free hand followed the soft curve of my side, sending shivers down my spine. My body became cold with anticipation. Goosebumps rose along my skin.

Vincent’s calloused fingertips grazed against my clothed clit. Heat radiated from my wet core as I squeezed my eyes shut. My brow furrowed as he began to slowly draw figure eights onto my clit.

“Ah, you are so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His soft lips connected to my jugular, peppering gentle kisses down my neck.

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long while.”

With his hands required to support his weight as he descended, his powerful clasp released my wrist. I entangled my fingers in his silky hair, further ruining his pristine image.

“Although I pride myself on maintaining a certain level of class, I can’t deny that I’ve often thought about how satisfying it would be to bring you immense pleasure.”

He continued to press his lips against my hot skin, his face now level with my clothed breasts.

Vincent leaned back on his knees. He dragged his eyes up and down my frame, running his tongue across his bottom lip. I suddenly felt small under his gaze.

His tender fingertips located the ball of my ankle, and he hastily removed both of my short heels, tossing them aimlessly to the floor. After he had discarded my shoes, he trailed his large palms upwards, caressing my calves, then my thighs. I watched intently as his veiny hands slipped under the hem of my dress. Vincent hooked a finger in the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs at a painfully slow pace.

Once I was fully exposed, he assumed a position between my legs. Thankfully, the bed was grand enough for him to lay comfortably.

All the blood in my body had rushed to my core, and I could feel my heartbeat throbbing vehemently within my lower abdomen.

Vincent trailed his moist lips along my inner thigh, gazing up at me devilishly through his lashes as he did so. He was well aware that his teasing behavior was propelling me into a state of lust filled desperation.

When he established that he had prolonged my suffering enough, he hastily buried his face between my thighs. I gasped, throwing my head back onto the opulent pillows. My thighs instinctively clenched around his head, but Vincent’s strong hands pulled my legs apart to free himself.

He flattened his tongue against my clit, taking his time to draw out his movements so as to not supply me with an orgasm too hastily. He was thoroughly enjoying the elongation of my pleasure.

After a brief moment of supplying delicate sensations to my clit, I felt the tip of his finger prod at my entrance. I threw my hands upwards, grasping onto the bed frame, my knuckles quickly turning white.

“Oh fuck!”

I exclaimed, grinding my hips against his gorgeous face.

“Vincent-Vincent your mouth feels so good, holy shit.”

I spoke in mangled cries, not caring to keep my voice down. After all, there was no one around for miles to be bothered by my proclamations.

His middle two fingers pushed into my entrance, thrusting upwards to stimulate my walls.

“You taste wonderful, ma belle.”

He uttered, continuing to fuck me with his fingers throguhout the duration of his praise. Vincent located my g spot. My nails dug into the bedframe, undoubtedly leaving prominent scratches. He took note of my non verbal cues.

Vincent increased the intensity of his fingers. Quickly, the coil of pleasure began to tighten within my lower abdomen. I bucked my hips against his face, but Vincent quickly stifled my movements by pressing my hips into the mattress.

“Are you close?”

He murmured against my clit. The gentle vibrations set my nerves ablaze with white hot desire.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so close.”

I mumbled, my arms beginning to tremble as I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my orgasm begin to seep into the corners of my brain.

Vincent’s long digits expertly located my g spot with every thrust.

His warm mouth continued to duck and stimulate my swollen bundle of nerves.

The erotic sounds of his fingers fucking my cunt reverberated loudly throguhout the predominantly empty bedroom.

“Then cum for me, ma chérie.”

His endearing words proved to be the last necessary step in reaching my release. The tension that had built within my stomach exploded as I came gloriously all over his face. My back felt as though it had been rammed into a solid brick wall.

My chest heaved, and I found it arduous to supply my lungs with sufficient oxygen.

My eyelids began to flutter open as the movements of both his tongue and fingers slowed. When he removed his digits and mouth, I was overcome with a glorious sensation of complete satisfaction. Both my mind and body succumbed to bliss. I had never before experienced such an absence of disquiet.

Vincent climbed over me, his torso now bare.

I cracked a small grin, my palms flattening against the expanse of his soft chest. His lips shone with my arousal. I trailed my fingertips slowly downwards, halting when I reached his thick leather belt. I began to undo the buckle, however, Vincent caught wind of my intentions. With one hand, he engulfed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. I gasped.

“Oh, no, not now.”

His gentle lips tenderly kissed the soft divot behind my ear. I took a deep breath, the scent of his pricey, heavy fragrance clouding my mind.

“I have waited far too long for this moment. It would be foolish of me to allow you to furnish pleasure when my desire has been consuming me for years.”

Vincent moved off of me and stood to remove the remainder of his clothes. With a pleasurable whoosh, he pulled his belt from the loops of his formal pants. Subsequently, he removed his shoes and allowed his trousers to gather about his ankles.

He met my stare, the mellow hue of the faint overhead lights collecting within his green irises.

“You look beautiful.”

Once again, the heat from my body began to travel downwards.

Vincent’s boxers were the final article of clothing to be removed. I gulped audibly, as his sizable cock was now standing fully erect.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

He possessed one of the most winsome cock I had ever laid eyes on. I clenched my thighs together, my cunt eagerly clenching around nothing.

When he had finished undressing, he climbed back over me and our lips met once again. I melted into the kiss, exhaling sensually as I sunk into the plush mattress. Vincent’s hand grasped the hem of my dress, tugging it upwards until I was forced to raise my arms.

Thankfully, the supportive nature of the outfit allowed me to function in the absence of a bra. As a result, my entire body was now fully exposed for Vincent’s piercing gaze.

He discarded the dress and dropped his hips suggestively until his prominent erection pressed against my lower stomach.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, beckoning him to progress further. Vincent shuffled his hips, tip now dangerously close to my aching cunt. But, before he slipped inside of me, he raised a free hand and tenderly brushed a few unruly strands of hair from my damp forehead.

“If you wish to stop at any moment, merely apprise me and I shall cease.”

I gave him a nod, throwing my arms around his neck to provide an anchor. Vincent pressed his lips to my neck, applying a few gentle kisses before sliding his cock into my wet cunt.

My walls stretched, hastily conforming to his rather large girth. My back arched into his solid torso. I inhaled sharply as he buried the entirety of his length deep within me.

“Are you alright, ma chérie?”

His body stilled. I groaned in mild frustration.

“Y-yeah. I’m more than alright. P-please just fuck me already. I-I need you so bad.”

Vincent pulled back. His lips were plush. His hair was disheveled. His cheeks were a bright shade of pink.

His disarranged appearance was a stark contrast to the previously sophisticated man I had met at the start of this afternoon. However, I do consider the duality of man to be a topic of the utmost enticement. There is something captivating about the notion of commencing a relationship with someone who has a secret side that solely you have the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.

Without further words, Vincent began to roll his hips. The slight pain of his cock quickly dissipated to create room for immense pleasure.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Does that feel good? Hm?”

He spoke with a slight vocal fry. The raspiness of his tone elicited a visceral reaction. I dragged my nails along his smooth back, undoubtedly breaking skin.

He grumbled deep within his chest.

When I didn’t answer, Vincent pulled his face back, blown pupils meeting mine. I gazed at him through half lidded eyes. I found it difficult to ignite passionate eye contact when I was presented with the distraction of his cock expertly grazing against my g spot with every fervent jerk of his hips.

He wrapped a large hand around my neck. My pulse rose to the top of my skin as black spots began to cloud my vision.

“Come on, ma belle, be my good girl. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

I exhaled a shuddering breath.

“F-fuck… you feel so good inside me Vincent.”

I gulped.

“Y-your cock feels so good.”

Vincent’s skin began to sheen with a thin layer of perspiration. The unruly strands of brown hair deepened in color as they stuck to his forehead. I moaned pornographically as the grip on my neck constricted once more. My jaw dropped. The brief lack of oxygen only added to the flurry of incoherent thoughts bouncing around my skull.

“Oh, my, you’re such a good girl for me.”

He gulped, a soft sigh escaping his swollen lips.

“You’re taking me so well.”

The erotic words combined with his smooth accent contributed to the tightening of my lower abdomen.

I was close, dangerously close.

I could feel my body reaching the edge, and I would soon fall into a state of euphoria.

Vincent’s adjusted his hips ever so slightly, his tip now reaching deeper than before.

I instinctively turned my head away. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I buried my face into the bed. My brow furrowed. My eyes squeezed shut as I anticipated my release.

Vincent utilized his thumb to reposition my face.

“No, don’t look away. Be my good girl and look me in the eyes.”

I forced my eyelids open, meeting his piercing stare as ever so slightly increased the frequency of his thrusts. Every instinct beckoned me to throw my head back, but I fought the desire. And, I instead kept my eyes fixated on Vincent’s blown pupils that had almost entirely consumed his irises.

“I want to watch you. I want to see your face as you cum all over my cock.”

I gave him a slight nod, indicating that I could hear while trapped in my lustful stupor.

His hand traveled downwards, gently caressing my curves before reaching my swollen clit. Vincent applied gentle pressure, and, with that, I let go.

I kept my eyes fixated on him, allowing my face to contort as it pleased.

Vincent groaned loudly, his cum coating my walls.

He continued to fuck me throguh my orgasm. His movements gradually slowed as the fog of euphoria began to dissipate. My chest rose and collapsed with fervor.

When I deemed it safe to break eye contact, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. Suddenly, I became aware of the gravitational pull the bed exerted on my body.

Jesus, I was exhausted.

Vincent removed his cock from my core. However, he remained atop me, tenderly pushing my unkempt hair back to create mild uniformity.

“You may stay here, if you’d like, for however long you wish.”

His voice was as it had been prior to our physical encounter.

I giggled, my mouth breaking into a slight smile.

“Your house is magnificent.”

I met his gaze, his eyes now possessing a tender quality.

“I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

I said with a scoff.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips.

“Then don’t, stay here for as long as your heart desires.”

#marquis de gramont x reader #marquis x reader #marquis de gramont #john wick series #john wick smut #john wick movies #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick #john wick 4 #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skargard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard icons

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tkaulitzlvr · 9 months

Note

can you make a tom!sub? also i am INLOVE with all your writings💓💓

i was thinking if you could write tom being submissive and the (female) reader not letting him finish untill she says so?also if the story could contain some stuff like handcuffs and you know you know... ( only if your comfortable! )

thank you again and no rush! take your time💓

PLEASE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after tom loses a bet that the two of you had made, as promised he has to face his consequence - which involves the roles you usually have in bed completely reversing for the first time.

content: smut

a/n: sub tom has been requested soooo much on my account and honestly i’ve avoided it cause in my eyes he’s like the most obvious dom and that’s all i see him as…but him as a sub is just as hot so i finally decided to write it - i hope it lives up to ur expectations🙏

my eyes light up when i watch tom look down with a cheesy grin plastered on his face, no longer able to hold eye contact after i had blown him a kiss and winked from behind the barrier. i can just about distinguish his features from the dull flashing lights of the venue, and most importantly, the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. i made him blush. the bet which, in any other circumstance would be completely ridiculous, had never meant so much until now. the whole idea is somewhat stupid, tom deciding that it would be fun to see who could make the other blush first - clearly under the impression that he would win. the reward, though not explicitly discussed, is the thing that excites me the most, the endless possibilities from the vague prize of ‘getting whatever you want from the other person’ too good to pass up.

and by the way tom shoots me a quick glance, a defeated smile tugging on his lips, he knows that he has lost too. he shakes his head and mutters something under his breath - not that i can hear it, the speakers blasting out the band’s music paired with psychotic fans’ screams stop me from hearing even what the person next to me is saying. his fingers resume their fast-paced strumming on the guitar splayed across his lap, eyes occasionally darting in my direction until he stands on the stage above me, in line with the rest of his band.

“thank you so much for coming tonight paris. we love you all and hope to see you again soon, goodbye!” bill’s voice is followed by thousands of high-pitched screams, the irritating sound only seeming to get louder when tom snatches the microphone from his brother, shouting ‘thankyou’ to the crowd in his thick german accent.

i make my way to the backstage area whilst tom and the rest of the band say goodbye to the fans, throwing drum sticks and guitar picks into the crowd as they would after every show. i flop down onto one of the couches, the loud screaming still not slowing down as i wait for tom to exit the stage, knowing that he won’t be thrilled after losing the bet he was so eager to initiate.

“you did so good baby, i’m so proud of you!” i smile widely when tom walks through the door, standing up from the sofa and engulfing him in a tight hug, burying my head into his shoulder. he smiles weakly, planting a soft kiss into my hair and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“thank you schatz.” he mumbles, his voice somewhat sad despite the wide smiles that remain etched on the rest of his band members faces - the show they have just performed being one of their best so far, practically flawless. tom pulls away and moves to sit on the couch behind me, sighing frustratedly and spreading his body across it. i don’t need to ask why he is so upset - not only because the reason is totally obvious, but he decides to express his annoyance himself.

“i can’t believe you won.” he groans, tilting his head back and letting it rest against the back of the couch. he gives me a small smile, not intending to seem mad with me, instead he seems annoyed with himself. he opens his arms out, gesturing for me to join him on the couch. i move over, sitting beside him as he wraps an arm around me.

“have you thought of anything yet? for your reward, i mean.” the pads of his fingertips run along my arm, his chin resting on my head as i smile slowly, knowing the answer to his question the second he had asked it - hell, i had known exactly what i would do if i won the second he proposed the bet.

“i think i have something in mind.”

“you want to be in control?” his face displays a mix of confusion and interest, his eyebrows raised, slight smirk on his lips. i nod my head, moving closer forward as i already straddle his lap with my hair disheveled and lips swollen - tom having initiated something the second we had entered the hotel room. things didn’t turn out the way he had expected though, my hand resting firmly on his chest when he had attempted to climb on top, as he did every other time.

he tilts his head to the side, seeing that i am completely serious about this. his hands find my waist, fingers threading through the loops in my jeans as he grinds my hips over his already prominent erection. i shake my head when he tries to manoeuvre my hips again, placing my hands over his and stopping his movements entirely. his eyes widen, body stuck in place as he seems startled by my sudden change in attitude, knowing that usually i would be underneath him in this moment. he shifts around a little, squirming beneath me and sitting up slightly, his back now resting against the headboard as my legs are wrapped around his waist.

“stay still.” i rest my hands flat against his chest, watching as his mouth falls open a little, lips parted as he looks up at me, his gaze bordering desperate as i can tell that he wants me to do something, though he doesn’t know how to say it.

i shift my hips to get closer to him, a low groan leaving his lips in the process, soon cut off when i press my lips to his own, his noises muffled into my mouth. and when i begin to grind against him at a more consistent pace, his ability to kiss back seems to diminish by the second, his breath hitching in his throat. i pull away, watching as his face falls in disappointment, clearly wanting more than just a kiss. and i plan on giving him that, as long as he uses his words, just as he tells me to.

though words can wait for now, my actions taking control as i reach forward, my hands finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift the material upward and off of his frame, revealing his toned upper half. i throw it to the floor somewhere, returning my attention to tom as his hands reach out, attempting to pull my own small crop top off. he doesn’t get far though, his hands roughly returned to his side as i shake my head.

“no touching. not unless i say so.” he seems to understand that he has next to no control right now, that he can do nothing but wait on me, and i can tell that it irritates him, a low groan sounding from his lips. my eyes never tear away from his own, watching the way he stares intently at my cleavage, eyes drinking it all in as i lift my top over my head, revealing the small lace bra holding my breasts in place. his tongue comes out to flick the small metal piercing that rests on his bottom lip, eyes quickly darkening.

“fuck baby…let me touch you- please.” his voice is barely above a whisper, bordering between frustrated and desperate, both causing him to go next to insane as i deprive him of the one thing he relies on to show affection - touch. he begins to squirm beneath me, attempting to create some sort of friction between us, his hips moving up and down along my clothed heat.

“sit still or you won’t get to touch me at all. you have to be patient.” i scold, watching as he nods his head, his movements soon slowing, cut off by his breath hitching in his throat when my hands make contact with the small metal button of his jeans, undoing it slowly. his eyes stay locked on my fingers, watching as i tug the zipper down, showing no resistance and instead bucking his hips upward and allowing me to slide the denim off of his body when i tug it downward, the material pooling at his feet. i quickly slip out of my mini-skirt, our underwear now the only thing separating us, and i can tell that it drives him crazy.

his chest rises up and down, a thin coat of sweat lining his forehead as his entire body jolts with even the slightest of movements, desperate whines leaving his lips when my hands finally palm him through his boxers, the first bit of attention i give towards the place where he craves it most.

“fuck…oh god, oh my god.” his head falls backward, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when i run the palm of my hand up and down his length, still separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. his erection seems to get more and more painful with each second, every gentle touch i press to his clothed dick generating more sounds from his parted lips - small whines soon turning to loud groans, to the point where he can’t handle it any longer.

“please schatz…do something…need it so bad-shit!” his eyes squeeze shut, wincing slightly when i touch his tip through his boxers, this area more sensitive than the rest of him. despite his pleas, i decide to go that little bit further, knowing how crazy it will drive him.

“what do you want me to do tom?” my voice is low, crossing the line between innocent and seductive, creating a sickly mix of the two that seems to drive him crazy. my head moves downward, lips directly against his ear as i take his lobe in my mouth, biting it lightly before releasing it, feeling the way his whole body shivers below me. my lips make contact with his neck, placing slow kisses, just enough to tease him a little more. “you have to tell me what you want baby.”

“you want my hands?” i whisper into his ear, my hand trailing to palm him once again, yet another groan falling from his lips. “or my mouth, maybe?” i take the skin of his neck between my teeth, sucking slowly before letting it go, my tongue running over it momentarily. he stays quiet, his breathing heavy and body becoming more restless.

“or…” i add, pausing for a few seconds, buying time to leave him guessing, pulling back to study his face, the sight enough to resemble heaven on earth - or at least something pretty damn close to it. his eyes are half-lidded, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue poking out of his mouth. he watches me intently, eyes fixed on my hand as it moves to grab his own, trailing downward to my clothed heat, placing it flat against my panties. “do you want this?”

he nods his head rapidly, fingers trying to pull the lace from my lower half, not getting far as i pull them back, leaving him even more desperate than he was seconds ago.

“need to be inside you.” he whines, sighing under his breath and adjusting himself once again, thrusting his hips ever so slightly in the hopes that he will feel any contact, even if it is only for a second. but when i smile weakly above him, sitting up a little and reaching for my panties, his eyes visibly light up, thrilled by the possibility of finally getting what he wants. i step out of my underwear, fingers finding the clasp of my bra and removing it from my frame. tom’s eyes scan my body hungrily, starting at my now exposed breasts, moving down to my lower half. his hands reach outward, making contact with my waist as he pulls me closer to him. i let him this time, watching the way relief takes over his expression from being granted the simple permission of touching my body.

the pads of his fingertips trail upward, moving along my stomach, just about to touch my breasts before i stop him, much to his frustration.

“please baby…can’t take it- need you so bad, need to touch you…” he is practically begging at this point, his body tired and sweaty beneath me, desperate for any sort of relief.

“wait.” i state simply, showing him no sympathy, though my actions seem to act as some consolation as my hands make contact with the waistband of his boxers, fingers dipping underneath them teasingly. his breath catches in his throat, breathing becoming even more erratic as i get closer and closer to giving him what he wants, before tearing away his hope and moving my fingers almost completely away. i tug on the waistband, slipping my fingers in once again, inching closer to his dick, the presence of his boxers frustrating to him as i can only do so much with them there. my hand finds his length as i run a single finger down it, a loud moan pouring from tom’s lips as his head falls backward. i struggle to fit another finger into his boxers, the fabric restricting my movements too much - and it drives him insane.

“fuck schatz…take ‘em off, please…just take them off.” he whines loudly, groaning when i slip my hand out of his boxers, only to tug them down ever so slowly, almost too slowly for tom as he bucks his hips slightly. his dick springs free, hitting his lower abdomen and god, the sight is enough to make me cum on the spot. it is almost painfully hard, the veins within it more prominent than ever, the tip red as pre-cum spills out of it. i almost pity him, watching how he grunts at the slight touch of my fingers wrapping their way around the base.

he hisses when i pump him a few times, my thumb moving to swirl around his tip, his mouth falling open whenever i apply pressure. i don’t give him too much, though, nothing that brings him anywhere close to his release, just enough to show him what he can receive, and he craves for more.

“please just sit on it, please schatz…i can’t, want you so bad- fuck!” he attempts to bring one hand to his hard dick, stroking it once before i pull him away roughly, swatting his hand and placing it by his side.

“what did i say, hm? you have to listen to me to get what you want.” all he can do is nod his head, far too focused on my actions as i speak his eyes glued to my heat as i begin to move forward, lifting my hips upward so that his tip is aligned directly with my entrance. my hands place themselves on his shoulders, maintaining a firm hold before slowly sliding downward, taking just the tip inside of me. he whines loudly, hands flying to rest on my waist, his fingers already digging into the skin, bound to leave marks.

i lift my hips upward after a few seconds, his tip sliding out of me as he whines in frustration, desperate for something, anything, besides from being teased like this. he knows that there is no point in trying to do anything himself - realising that i will just stop him. instead, he watches impatiently as i shift my hips downward again, taking a little more inside me than i did last time. i moan quietly at the sensation, his dick slowly stretching me out as i stop when he is around halfway.

his eyes are now completely closed, squeezing shut as his mouth is now wide open, chest rising and falling at a fast pace, clearly far too lost in pleasure from my minimal acts to think about anything else.

“tell me what you want baby.” my voice is more forgiving this time, lacking the harsh tone it had when i scolded him all those times. now he knows better than to initiate anything, his eyes slowly opening when he registers what i say.

“keep going.” he pleads, his hands trailing to my hips, squeezing the flesh roughly. he clears his throat, though his ability to sound even a little bit composed is long gone, and he knows it too, soon realising when he opens his mouth to speak again, his voice low and whiny. “take all of me, please baby…”

i lean my face closer to his own, lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth. “open your eyes…watch me.” i smile when his eyes flutter open, dark and tired, their gaze flickering to watch where we are connected, struggling to stay open when his dick begins to slowly disappear inside of me, inch my inch.

“oh god-fuck…feels so good…” i haven’t even moved yet, staying sat completely on top of him, not circling my hips and instead adjusting to his size, my walls stretched out as i wait for the pain to turn to pleasure. it doesn’t matter that i haven’t done anything yet, not to tom, anyway. the evident euphoria on his face tells me enough, the continuous teasing i had put him through meaning that literally anything is enough to leave him a moaning mess.

and when i begin to circle my hips, grinding them over his pelvis, the noises that sound from his parted lips become louder and more inaudible, once clear attempts to say my name now barely understandable, lost in the whines that take over any speech. his body shines with a thick layer of sweat, highlighting each defined muscle from beneath me as they contract with each harsh squeeze of my hips. i lift them up, almost all the way off of tom’s dick, before slamming back onto it, soft curses spilling from his lips when i repeat my motions, soon finding a fast rhythm. somehow his hands don’t leave my waist, taking advantage of how i allow them to rest there, afraid that i will tear them away if he decides to move them anywhere else. but i see the way his eyes are fixated on my breasts, fighting the urge to close them purely so he can watch the way they bounce up and down with each movement of my hips. there are times when he jerks his hand upward, seeming to hesitate and return it to its position on my waist, though it doesn’t take long for the urge to become too strong.

“let me touch them liebe…please- just wanna touch them.” a string of pleas follow his request, his voice returning to a low whisper as he awaits my response, his head falling backward when i angle my hips a certain way, his tip brushing directly against my g-spot. i moan loudly at the feeling, eyes rolling to the back of my head as i repeat my movement, his tip drilling against it repeatedly. i am far too lost in pleasure to refuse his ask, nodding my head and mumbling a quick and almost inaudible “go ahead baby”.

and he wastes no time, his hands rushing to cup my breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples as he lets out a satisfied groan. he squeezes the flesh harshly, mesmerised by the feeling as the movements of his hands become more feverish, his need seeming to increase as he moves his head forward, allowing his lips to make contact with them. he places rough and open-mouthed kisses onto the flesh, kneading what isn’t in his mouth, sucking on my breast for a few seconds before running his tongue over the skin, his lips leaving a trail of purple marks scattered across my chest.

“i’m so close…please don’t stop baby- fuck, don’t stop- please!” his voice vibrates against my breast as he continues to kiss the skin, often cut off momentarily by a loud groan whenever i clench around him. and i can tell that he means it, his dick twitching inside of me every few seconds, the frequency of his moans increasing with each movement of my hips.

“you’re not cumming yet.” i state through breathy moans, circling my hips and digging my hails into his shoulders. he whines in response, pulling his head away from my breast to look upward at me. “hold it, you have to wait for me, mhm?”

“can’t baby- i can’t…fuck- it hurts so bad…” if i weren’t to desperate to chase my own release, i would probably pity him and let him cum out of sympathy, though now all i can focus on is finding my own climax, my bounces becoming more sloppy and feverish, craving nothing more than to release the knot in my stomach that begins to build.

“yes you can.” i breathe out, taking my hands and pressing them to the back of his head, bringing his lips closer to my breasts and moaning when his tongue swipes across my nipple. “you can cum when i say so.”

the knot in my stomach becomes more noticeable, my free hand moving downward to rub soft circles on my clit, my head falling backward at the overwhelming pleasure, knowing that it won’t be long until i get to my release. i don’t tell tom that, though, watching intently as he can no longer plant firm kisses to my breasts, instead he falls backward to rest his upper half against the headboard, soft and frequent curses pouring from his lips as he holds back his release, the task becoming harder and harder for him as each second passes.

my own head falls backward, eyes rolling back as i finally let go, feeling my release wash over me. i clutch onto tom’s back for support, rocking my hips back and forth slowly as i ride out my high, still aware that tom hasn’t come yet. and i can tell that he can’t hold on much longer.

“please baby…please let me cum- it hurts so bad schatz, shit!” tears begin to roll down his cheeks, soft whines spilling from his lips far more often than before. the slow roll of my hips on his dick doesn’t help - the angle allowing him to hit the deepest spots inside of me, my walls unconsciously clenching around him when the pleasure gets too much. “need it so bad baby, just wanna cum, please…”

my lips collide with his softly as he still tries to kiss back, the taste of tears on his mouth as i move against him slowly. “c’mon, cum baby…” he sighs loudly once he registers that he has my permission, no longer able to kiss back as his head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing, loud and elongated groans elicited from his lips as i feel his hot cum shoot into me, coating my walls as i ride out his high.

“shitshitshit…oh my fucking god!” he begins to lazily thrust upward into me, anything to increase the pleasure he already feels, his movements somehow matching mine as he moans into my mouth, his hands glued to my hips. his nails dig into the skin, leaving harsh marks there. eventually, both our movements slow down, tom’s body trembling as it lays against the headboard, his breathing fast and heavy. i collapse on top of him, his dick still inside of me as i rest my head on his chest. he rubs my back up and down, fingers tracing random patterns there.

“fuck me.” he mumbles into the now silent room, my head whipping upward to look at him, his fucked out expression enough to leave me mesmerised, taking in every feature on his face - the way his eyes struggle to stay open, slight wrinkles on his forehead from his furrowed brows, his lips remaining slightly parted, he somehow looks perfect. “you need to be on top more baby, that’s the best sex we’ve had.”

his hand tiredly reaches to cup my cheek, drawing my face nearer to his as he connects our lips. the kiss is lazy and sloppy, still filled with passion as i press my lips firmly onto his own. he pecks them a few more times before pulling away, standing up and pulling me toward the bathroom to clean up.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tomkaulitz #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz

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bandydear · 3 months

Text

I think the sad thing about the Rue Royale family is that they really are operating the best that they can considering everyone’s circumstances.

Take Claudia for example: She’s a 14 year-old orphan who has never ever been loved. She was abused from the moment she could crawl by her aunt, exposed to creepy uncles at the boarding house, and has had 0 friends. A goose egg. Louis and Lestat were the first people. Ever. To love her. The only people who would care if she died. And they loved her. They poured all the devotion that bounced off each other’s defence mechanisms onto The Child.

So she’s a spoiled teenage apex predator who has had zero socialization her own age trapped in eternal homeschooling with BPD The Clown and the vampire embodiment of self-loathing. She was never going to be Normal. The fact that she grows up to be so socially capable is really a testament to her willpower.

And they’re fucking trying to raise her right too! Lestat’s parents did not give a shit about him. If he wasn’t being abused he was being neglected. Beatings, withholding food, withholding love*, he never learned how to read! So he feeds Claudia, he teaches her to drive, to play chess, to play piano—all the things he is proud of. All that nourishes his soul he gives to Claudia. He gives her a priceless amulet all while thinking she’s impermanent. That she won’t last.

And then there’s Louis. Louis who always had the expectations of “carrying the family line”. Louis who was told to marry a woman named Hazel by Paul the moment before he died. Louis, whose familial and social rejection for what he is (in layers) sent him spinning out in self-destruction and what he find on the brink of annihilation was Claudia. His beautiful daughter. She’s the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams. Only child to all the expectations of an eldest child. He brings her to the lake his dad took him and Paul to when he was a child and they catch fireflies. He does her hair and he dresses her like the little rich girl he’s always wanted to parade around at church.

But Claudia is a person, not a doll.

And Louis is still caught up in the living drama of his family. Louis spends Claudia’s entire life mourning the mortal man he never was. He wants to make his mother proud. He wants her forgiveness for Paul. He wants to be there for his sister and her family, and he wants to be a married man with a child of his own. His war with his own nature extends to his family. He cannot accept being a vampire the same way his mother never accepted his queerness. And, just like his mother, he withdraws love as punishment when his family does not follow his rules. He cannot accept a daughter with sadistic house cat tendencies, and he can’t accept the horny Shakespearean menace he married. He punishes Lestat when Claudia goes off to college (typical empty nester behaviour) and he punishes Claudia when she starts having a life outside of him in Paris.

And yet! They were happy! For years! Happy until what was always going to happen happened. Lestat has always had a wandering dick and Claudia was always going to want independence and companionship outside of her parents and Louis was always going to be jenga tower of emotional stability. On a tight rope of personality disorders and abusive upbringings they actually lasted longer than a lot of vampire covens.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv meta #rue royale family

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pedrithink · 1 year

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love is not easy ✩ kylian mbappé

summary: everything seems more difficult when you are the shadow of your older sister and Kylian and her are in love with each other.

Your life has always been about being your sister's shadow and you understand, Ana is incredible. You are so proud of the person she is and extremely grateful that you were chosen to be her sister. But, I don't know? the feeling of emptiness, of never feeling good enough and of always being the second choice in people's lives hurts you a lot.

The way you will always be inferior to her hurts you and you know that no matter what you achieve, she will always achieve something greater and be more glorified for it. Your parents love you, you know that. But, Ana is special and they never let you forget that. To always be in second place, to always feel inferior. Even though when several people are with you, the world seems to be different, the sun seems to be warmer, and the light more intense.

Your thoughts disperse when Ana enters the room dressed in a long black dress and a lot of jewelry adorning her body. "Hey, my little pumpkin. I'm leaving, Kylian is already waiting for me outside." Kylian. Your heart races just hearing that name. "He asked me to check again if you're sure you don't want to go."

Kylian has known you since he was 11 years old (You having 9 and Ana having 11), you saw him as he left for another country to pursue his dream of playing soccer and to come back to Paris and become the world star he is today.

You can't ignore and lie that you have always been in love with him, these feelings didn't come out of nowhere. At the age of 15, when he came into your room and opened up to you, that's when it all started. He revealed all his fears and insecurities and his sincerity so openly, you could only look into those dark eyes and feel bad for falling so intensely in love with someone who was perfect for your sister.

Your parents always expected and made sure that Kylian and Ana would become a couple, and every time they went out together, like now, your heart would tear a little more. It's always been this way and it always will be.

So, during these last few days, you've been trying to ignore Kylian as much as you can to try to make these feelings go away. If pretending they don't exist didn't work, you hope that this way it will. You know it's not fair to him, but you just can't stand to feel it anymore.

You just feel your cell phone vibrating and try to shut off your brain from these painful thoughts, you seem to enjoy hurting yourself by trying to imagine a reality where Kylian would choose you over Ana. You know that's impossible.

Ky <3: Is everything okay?

Ky <3: I can't help but get upset every time you refuse to go to an event with me.

You let out a weak smile. Kylian, unconsciously, was the reason for your pain and, at the same time, was the only person who could make you feel completely alive.

You: i'm fine :)

You: enjoy tonight, mbappé. you deserve it, my world champion. <3

You try to turn off your phone so your brain doesn't activate the curiosity mode and you end up on twitter or instagram, you're not in the mood to hurt yourself by seeing so many pictures of Kylian with Ana right now. It's ok to feel sad because he doesn't feel the same way, but not torture yourself.

Trying to fall asleep when so much is going on around you is so hard. You just want to try to stop thinking about what they must be doing right now, you just want all this feeling of over 8 years to just go away. It's not fair to feel all of this alone, to endure all of this alone. Kylian is in love with Ana and she is in love with him. You have to accept this and move on with your life.

As you try to dispel these exhausting thoughts, your mind will shut down and you will finally be able to sleep.

The next morning, as you are walking down the stairs towards the kitchen, you hear different footsteps. Ana is not so cheerful in the morning, actually, she has always been a night person.

As you enter the kitchen you are startled by the figure of Kylian preparing breakfast.

He turns around and is startled by your totally static presence. "Hey, beautiful." Kylian approaches you to deposit a kiss on your head. "Are you running away from me? I've missed you these last few days."

You let out a nervous laugh and disperse from the half-hug Kylian has formed. "Of course not, Ky." You pick up a mug and pour in some of the coffee Kylian prepared this morning. "I'm just busy with college, that's all."

He doesn't believe you because he knows you, he can tell for sure when you are lying: "If you don't want to go out with me, you don't have to lie." He makes it obvious that he's upset that you keep running away from anything involving him.

"It's not that, Ky. It really isn't." You snap back and take his hand while leaving a caress, moving your thumb up and down his hand. "It's just that…Ana does better in your world." You let out a weak laugh to try to get him to relax, you don't know, but he's afraid of losing you. "I'm weird, you know."

He makes a disapproving expression under your self-deprecating manner and pulls you into another hug. "My world is only the one that can fit you, there is nothing about me that you are not included."

With your heart racing you detach yourself again from the embrace formed by Kylian and try to ignore that girl in love look your brain almost commands you to make. It's surreal, it seems that this feeling will never go away. Loving Kylian is a part of you.

You are so lost in this moment with Kylian that you only realize that Ana is there when he turns to deposit a kiss on her head. "Good morning, how are we today?" Ana hugs you and deposits a kiss on your cheek, she stays for a few minutes hugging you from the side until she leaves to get some coffee.

You try to ignore and put out of your mind all that moment with Kylian and what he said, you're tired of torturing yourself this way. Kylian doesn't like you and it's time to you got over it and moved on.

When we are all present for breakfast, you try to ignore all curiosity, but it overcomes you. "How was yesterday?"

You notice the way Ana lets out a weak laugh as she stares at Kylian. "It was good, pumpkin. It's always nice to be surrounded by this guy here." He winks at her and briefly strokes her hair. "What about yours? How was it?"

"Normal, same as always."

When you finish eating, you stand up and quickly say that you will go upstairs to your room. Ana and Kylian find it strange that you are so distant, since you have always been a lively person in the morning and always, literally always, started the conversation when you guys are at the breakfast table. Ana keeps it in mind to ask you later what is going on.

While you just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. You love Ana and you love Kylian, please don't misunderstand. You are happy for them, but the pain consumes you. The pain can be bigger than anything you have seen in the past eight years. You always had it in mind that they would end up together, but you didn't know that you were not ready for when this moment finally came. The feeling of unrequited love is different, intimate, merciless. It is like throwing a ball into the sky and it, defying gravity, disappears. And it is impossible not to stand there waiting for it to come back.

Keeping a feeling in silence is very bad, but, sometimes, you have to stop, reflect and feel it yourself. And you can't choose how you feel, but you can choose what to do about it. And now you know for sure that you will do everything to forget Kylian.

part 2 / part 3

note: so...let me know if you want a part 2 or 3 for this :* xx

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fanfic #football one shot #football x reader #football fanfic #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #football imagine

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lichenes · 6 months

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Omg i alove your Swann Arlaud fics!!You literally make my day better!Can you write a fic how Vincent and the reader are forced by their friends to play a silly game like 9 minutes in Heaven and they finally confess to each other and make out <3

Blushin'... lowkey... Thank you anon :*** CW: mentions of a boner (nothing happens), SFW wc: 628

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

You and Vincent could barely keep your hands off of eachother when you got the chance to be alone. It got to the point where you'd text him a lips emoji and he'd reply back with a running emoji and show up at your door, ready.

Vincent understood you wanted to take things slow but it was getting to the point where your relationship was, rather than moving forward, staying in one place.

Not many people knew about your little love affair. You knew you weren't exclusive and you didn't expect faithfullness from him but you could feel the heart pangs pricking at you when you saw him pick up yet another person, strangely resembling you.

The ones closest to you encouraged you both to confess already but you were too shy to do it and Vincent was slowly losing the confidence if you truly liked him back. His little distractions weren't working anymore and he wished you would just give him a sign.

To say you looked ravishing that evening would be an understatement. Vincent couldn't keep his eyes off of you and he was due to pop a boner if he didn't excuse himself from the situation. You weren't making it easy as you tugged at the sleeve of his sweater for him to follow you to the circle of your mutual friends.

"C'mon Vincent, it'll be fun." You said reassuring him. "I'm not 17 anymore. It's childish." He groaned. You were both invited to a game of 'spin the bottle'. In reality he didn't really like the idea of some other person stealing you away and basically being free to do whatever they wanted with you. If it were to be his turn he could at least imagine it was you as earlier the host informed him that the lightbulb has blown out.

He was jealous, he could admit that to himself. Not to you though, never to you. You sat down cross-legged and he situated himself next to you, your knees touching. "Okay it's Vincent's turn." Someone said. He leaned forward and spun the bottle. It was spinning quickly, everyone curious on who it would land on.

To everyone's suprise it landed on you. 'Ooh's could be heard throughout the room as you stood up, pretending to be embarrassed by effectively everyone knowing what you two would be doing.

When you entered the closet you put your elbows on his shoulders and got close to his face. "Fancy seeing you here, pretty boy." You said in an undertone. "Hm.... likewise, sweetness" He mumbled out, your lips were almost touching. An inch more and...

"Vincent." You said firmly. "...yes chérie?" You groaned quietly as he tilted your head and started nipping at your neck. "Oh- Vincent..." you felt him smile and you put your hand on his chest. "Wait."

You assumed he looked at you puzzled, as aforementioned, it was dark and you couldn't tell. "I hate to do this but... do you like me?" You paused. "Honestly and truly, do you?" His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat and you felt him shuffle around into what seemed to be a kneel as his voice came from lower than before.

"I give up a thousand job offers, every opportunity to work in Paris and even living on my own to spend my life with you ma douce." You felt a surge of emotions running through you. "I'd let you ruin me, untill there was nothing left. Just so you could build me up again."

You leaned down and held his face in between your palms. You placed a delicate kiss on his lips, more tender than anything you were used to in your fervent make-out sessions.

"You're my everything." _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#swann arlaud #x reader #vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi x gn!reader

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angelkiyo · 2 months

Text

groomsmen! kita shinsuke x reader : falling behind

a/n: no warnings, just tooth rotting fluff and this being fairly short, enjoy !

growing up, kita shinsuke had never been one to consider love or romance. to him, falling in love and the idea of romance seemed far-fetched and didn’t seem to be in the cards for him. since childhood and middle school, he has perfected and articulated his schedule and routines to follow. because of these thought out patterns throughout the trajectory of his life, he gets to live life peacefully as a rice farmer and have his business booming. though nothing on his schedule had ever said about meeting a partner? so when his old friend, aran, was getting married and asked shinsuke who his date was, shinsuke couldn’t give him an answer.

aran was getting married, osamu and his girlfriend were expecting, and atsumu was going to propose to his fiancée after the paris olympics. what was shinsuke going to do?

“so you need a date to a wedding? which is when?” you took another sip of your tea as you eyed shinsuke. your grandmother has been friends with his since birth, leading for the two of you to be close. you went to a girls academy as he went to inarizaki, you played tennis while he had volleyball and you were a successful lawyer and had promised to help shinsuke if he was ever sued due to his rice business. you promised to help with anything in general. you two are best friends. apart from his grandma, you’re the person he’s closest with.

shinsuke took a bite out of his pastry, “next week.”

your face shifted into one of slight annoyance as you sipped your drink again, “shin, that’s so— why’d you ask me so last minute?”

the two of you were at a local cafe with the intention to catch up, where shinsuke’s date problem to the wedding was revealed. asking you to come with him was something he hadn’t thought of before meeting up. he hasn’t seen you in two years due to conflicting schedules and the fact that you spend a lot of time in tokyo, only going to hyōgo to visit sometimes. you’ve changed and he’s noticed. you look more mature.

shinsuke gave you a pleading look, “i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but i would really like you to.”

you pursed your lips and shrugged, “well i can’t just let you rent a girlfriend when you have me.” he smiled at you as you lightly laughed. he felt his chest tighten but brushed it off as heart burn.

———————-

the day of the wedding came faster than he had expected. you were going to meet him at the reception outside in the parking lot. he felt himself fiddle with his cuff links in anxiety. he could always rely on you, he just didn’t know why his hands felt so clammy and why his heartbeat was raising. though, when he saw you step out of your uber, he felt his heart in his stomach and his face soften as you scurried to him, giving him such a saccharine smile. he felt like that for the whole night, soaking up your presence as you hung around his arm. the way you were simply able to speak without overthinking your words and your wit, was refreshing. he enjoyed being there with you, he always has. he felt his senses go into hyperdrive as you were closer with him tonight.

with that said, when he saw you catch the flower bouquet from the bride and clearly look at him flustered afterward, noted by the groom and groomsmen, he felt his heart beating faster than ever. the sore sight of you under the wedding spotlight, shining on your beautiful figure and ethereal features, looking at him, made him feel like he was melting. it felt almost uncanny as when it was time for aran to throw the garter, shinsuke caught it. aran went to shinsuke and held him by the shoulder, “if that isn’t a sign, man, i don’t know what is.” he looked at you, laughing in embarrassment as he headed back to your table.

a sign?

you waved the bouquet at him and laughed, "look at our luck, shin!"

he felt blood rise in his cheeks as he chuckled, “yup!” he felt a stupid smile grow on his face as his face burned. he never felt this giddy? you’ve always been this way. you’ve always been so sweet. he just felt your entire presence hit him like a bullet train. he felt a tug at his suit jacket to see you standing up, motioning to the dance floor, “c’mon shin, i like this song.”

it was a type of bossa-nova song, he knew you loved the genre and took your hand. he saw atsumu, rintarō, and aran give him a thumbs up from his peripheral vision and snorted. as he danced with you amongst the crowd on the dance floor, he couldn’t help but still feel so nervous. the candle lit chandelier shining on your face showed your features in such a beautiful way, shinsuke didn’t know how to describe it. he’s known you for 26 years and this was the first time he really got to see you. it was stupid, really, that he hasn’t seen you like this before.

you leaned towards him and smiled, “im glad you asked me to go with you, shin. you look so handsome.” he saw your smile and felt his heartbeat accelerate. he’s surprised he hasn’t dropped dead from a heart attack yet, “you look so beautiful…”

you slapped his bicep as you laughed, “geez shin, you’ve never called me that before. you flatter me.” as the two of you swayed to the soft music, you just kissed him. it was more of a peck but enough to get shinsuke’s face red. the two of you widened your eyes at each other as you looked away, “im sorry, i just—“

“it’s fine.”

you looked at him again and smiled, “did i tell you that you looked really handsome tonight?”

he laughed and gave you a light spin. maybe romance was in the cards for him after all...

#anyways guys hi #kita shinsuke #sorry but yeah #ANYWAYS ENJOY!#i’ve been listening to eikal on repeat for so long #I NEEDED TO WRITE FLUFF #kita my babygirl #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke imagine #kita shinsuke imagines

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jess-the-vampire · 4 months

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I love how Philip and Biscuit's dynamic amounts to something along the lines of...

Philip: I live a life of solitude, and my misery and self-loathing know no bounds.

Biscuit: Hi Philip! Biscuit get flower for Philip! Philip happy now?

Phillip: ... Yes, Philip happy now.

biscuit's development is super funny in retrospect, because i created him as a response to this staff we're shown in philip's journal:

and at the time, my assumption was that this was his own palisman, and the fandom and wittebane community wondered if he had one at some point and uh....ate it, which is where the palisman eating idea evolved from (This is given no answer in the show itself).

other creators have some other ideas, like the lovely @captainmera have interpreted it as evelyn's palisman, but the show itself kinda never gave us an answer which i still find kinda strange to this day.

i mean, why show us a palisman at all in this book if we never get to know who it belongs to and why philip was studying it? And it was post-cut too (Since this appeared in KKKOHD and we were told they were informed back in ER), so it can't be entirely waved off as a cut concept either.

I get the impression now the crew didn't think we would care and just thought of adding a random palisman to the journal (Especially given it seems unlikely philip ever had a palisman at this point) , but i prefer it to be more relevant then that if they were going to show us it.

but at the time, since that was where my head was at, i made biscuit as a result, expecting to eventually update him design and name wise, only for that to never happen since the spider staff never got answers.

so i basically made an original character out of what i thought would be an established character?

and because i prefer giving the palisman a lot more personality, and because spiders are typically seen as scary, i figured making the spider actually very cute would be a perfect way of going about it.

Which i guess worked because people tend to love biscuit, i have had people happily draw him, some try and make plushies of him, he's gotten nods even in the wittebane collab, and i think that's cute.

i think deer, horses, ect also do fit philip's character, especially aesthetically, but i do think spiders also quite fit his personality with the weaving of the web, the trickery, and consumption and draining of smaller creatures.

also the duology of Philip in this au being reclused and miserable paried with a creature whose ungodly supportive and a ball of sunshine makes for funny and interesting comics around them. It also allows for philip to have a character that helps him develop in this au and progress as a person, especially in periods where caleb and hunter aren't there. The palisman eater, growing a bond with his palisman.

sorry for the tangent, it's always just funny how we ended up in this position regarding them in the au, cause boy is it quite the evolution

#my art #a reverse of feathers and mud au #areverseoffeathersandmudau #a reverse of feathers and mud #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house #toh #toh fanart #toh art

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marinettesaltprompts · 19 days

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Not sure if you're still active, but here's a 'prompt':

Maribat, but without the wish-fulfillment:

The bats-family comes to Paris, and the usual Maribat stuff happens. Shadowmoth is found, Lila gets revealed, Marinette gets to castigate her friends to the bone beofre dimissing them as vile people beneath her notice and Adrien gets summarily replaced because Plagg's Miraculous is apparently Ladybug's engagement ring and Damian is "just better". To top it all off, Marinette is taken under Batman's wing, and without an active threat in Paris leaves for Gotham.

It's not what she expected.

She realises the true depths of human cruelty without the insanity of Akumatisation to hide behind,

She gets to learn what it's like to be the last person to know plans because SHE'S not the one calling the shots anymore, indeed: she's the most junior person int eh chain of command. She's the one who has to shut and obey when push come to shove, and get excluded from decisions that effect her and information that she should have but Batman keeps locked up under "need to know". And she's not on the list.

Because why would she be? She was the child who struggled to find Shadowmoth while she had a box of magical superweapons- including one that could give her any power she asked of it- when it took Batman his Robins maybe a week at most to do the same with conventional methods.

She even finds out that Batman has a dozen contingencies in place to take the box and Miraculous from her if she goes rogue. Based on information he's accumulated from her while she spent time under his roof and trained to impress him.

Oh, and to add salt to the wound: Damian makes it clear that he doesn't consider her his equal. Guardian or not. Certainly not someone he's going to take orders from, or someone he's interested in romantically for that matter. It takes more than a reasonably attractive face and talent for magical devices to interest Damian Wayne; and beyond those things what's exceptional about Marinette Dupain-Cheng compared to the other potential love interests he already had?

Did it occur to her that he might already be in a relationship before she gave him the ring? Because it seems like she's committing the same sin that Adrien Agreste once did in assuming the bearers of Destruction and Creation have some special destiny to be together.

(Adrien could tell her how that works out).

So now Marinette's stuck in a new, far less friendly city, speaking a foreign language and in a home filled with strangers she impulsively threw her old life away to be with. And she has to live with it because of how she burned her bridges.

Great Post! You put a lot of thought into the prompt, and the idea of Ladybug being brought into a situation where she's way in over her head and not instantly the main person in charge (just because she holds a powerful set of magical earrings) actually sounds great! Though that itself could be its own fanfic idea.

I myself am not personally fond of the Maribat part of the fandom or the idea of even mentioning it, given that it and the the idea of Marinette and Damian ever being a thing represents everything bad about the salty part of the fandom, especially from people who likely never read any actual DC comic involving Damian.

However, I do appreciate how you deconstructed the idea of not only Damian instantly being Marinette's love interest, but also how Marinette meeting the Batfamily would instantly make her part of it or even their favorite, since neither of those would likely ever happen given the dark and gritty nature of Batman comics contrasting with the light and generally perfect world of Miraculous.

I mean, the idea of Marinette relating in any way to the BatFam would be ridiculous in canon, considering her generally perfect and happy family life in comparison to everyone in the BatFam differing flavors of trauma. By comparison, Lila being a bitch or her friends not believing her seems mundane by comparison.

Anyways, love the post!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette salt prompts #marinette salt #miraculous ladybug salt #maribat salt #that is to say salt on the whole idea of Maribat as a concept #Also salt on people who ship Marinette X Damian #Those people have no actual idea what Daimian Wayne is actually like in the comics #They've ruined Miraculous crossover fics with DC for me

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wordstome · 1 year

Text

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned. It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #fic:shrike

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spidybaby · 1 year

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Could you do one where they date and they had a very bad breakup and years later they reunite and he asks her to marry him

She | part 1

Summary: You can't put the pieces of a broken plate back together and expect it to be alright.

Warnings: cursing.

I chose to separate this in parts because I think one only part will be a little too long. 😭🥺

"You know you can go and talk to her, right?" Sergio tells me, noticing how my eyes are glued to her. "And say what?... sorry for broking up to you when you needed me the most? ... or, sorry for broking up with you and having my assistant delivered the message?"

Sergio looked at me with lifted eyebrows, not knowing that part of the story. "You told your assistant to break up with your girlfriend for you?" His head is shaking with disappointment, "you'll be lucky if she even acknowledges you. I'll punch you in the balls if I was her."

Two years ago, Kylian and you broke up. He was away for a big match. You fought the night before over the phone because he asked you not to take a big job opportunity, not wanting you to leave Paris and move to London.

He told his family, friends, and even his close teammates that you broke up because of "different lifestyles". Knowing damn well that was not the case.

He blames it on being scared of the distance, being scared of you finding someone better. Stalking your instagram from his brothers own profile. You blocked him as soon as you stepped out of his apartment. But he couldn't blame you.

You were different, your hair was lighter, your posture was more secure, and your smile was bigger even tho your eyes weren't shining as they used to.

That London job was the start of all the big things you were now doing, being a CEO of a successful company was not easy, but you made it look like it. You weren't the ex of Kylian Mbappé anymore. You were a successful businesswoman.

Your return to Paris was a secret for all your past friends, not wanting him to find out. Not having the energy to deal with him, after what he did to you.

You knew he was looking at you. You can see his reflection on the glass in front of where you and your friend were standing. Was the cold shoulder enough of a reaction? Yes and no. You wanted to slap him. Maybe make him feel a minimum of physical pain as a payment of all the tears, all the bad days you had, all the problems he caused you.

But you would never, and he knew that. You weren't the one to fight, being the calm one between the two of you, always choosing words over anything else. He was the opposite. Football leaves that rage and anger he uses in the field, and sometimes a match not being enough, he would pick small fights. The ones you didn't engage with.

"You want to go?" Lisa, your friend asks you, noticing your body language. "No" is all you can say. Not wanting to hide from him, you learned to live with the thought of him wanting you away was hard, especially when all he used to do was tell you to never leave him, to stick by his side, he was the one doing just that.

After two hours, you announced you were going home. Leaving Lisa and your other friends at the party you made your way out.

"Y/n, hi," you turn to the voice, Tchaga and old friend say, walking towards you. "Oh hi!" You wave excited. "I've missed you so much, " he says and hugs you hard. "Are you back or just on vacation?" You smiled at him."I'm on vacation, but I'll be staying." You say excited, happy to finally announce to one of your friends your plans. "That's amazing Chérie, I can't wait to hear everything about London, but that's for later. I'll dm you on Instagram so you can give me your number".

You say your goodbyes, and you walk to your car. You notice another car parked too close to yours, not leaving any space for you to open your door and enter. "Great," you say, turning around and asking the guard at the entrance to help you find the owner.

He asked you to walk back to your car, finding the person who owns it. You do as you're told and walk back. The night was chilly but not too much. The perfect weather for your liking.

"Hey, I'm sorry," you hear. "I wasn't the one who parked. It was my wife." He says, paying attention to his jacket, trying to find his keys.

You smile a little, noticing Sergio so busy with his jacket. "Blaiming this on Pilar, I see," you smile at him, "I don't recall seeing her inside. Is she really there?" You ask jokingly.

Sergio smiled and got closer to give you a hug. "Never miss the chance to make fun of me," he laughs while hugging you "to answer. Yes, she's inside." You laugh at his words.

"You're leaving this early? ... what happened to the girl who used to leave until six am?" You look at the distance, wondering the same. "She's tired and has to wake up super early." You didn't lie. You do have to wake up early, but not that early.

"Pilar and I missed you, we really do," he hugs you again. Sergio was that person who was the father of the group, giving advice and helping as much as he could. "When are you leaving?" He asks. "I'm not, I'm back." Sergio can't help the smile that creeps. "I'm happy for you. Let me move and you can be on your way."

You mumble a small Thank you, and as soon as he moves you enter you car. You notice his car is now properly parked and pulling down the window, "Don't worry, I'm not telling Pilar about this," he laughs and says goodbye.

The sound of your heels was echoing through the long corridor of the building. You were walking next to Nasser Al-Khelaïfi, he asked you to help him with his own company, not having the time to direct it himself due to his president occupations on PSG.

He asks for the meeting to be help at his home, a big resident in the heart of Paris. Beautiful for sure. Totally secured, for obvious reasons.

"Bienvenue chez moi" (welcome to my home), he says happily. "Merci" you say in return. "Let's go to the balcony. The view is amazing," he says, walking you there. "How was the flight?" He says, sitting on his big couch. He didn't lie. The view was extraordinary. "It was amazing. Thank you for sending your plane."

Nasser proposed the idea of you working with him. At first, you didn't accept because your job was amazing, you loved your coworkers, and you had one of the best experiences working there. However, when he offered you most benefits and a bigger salary for a bit of less responsibility you had at your job, you really thought about it. Accepting at the end because you missed your family and it was a better labor opportunity, growth wise.

"We want to treat you with the best. Our new president deserves it. Let's have some champagne on your honor, y/n, " he says, opening a big champagne bottle. "Cheers," he says, giving you a glass and touching it with his.

The conversation was him telling you more about the job, more about what you needed to do, and even a little personal with him asking about your family. Nothing special.

"Mister Al-Khelaïfi" one of his service workers says, "You have a meeting at 10:45 and it's currently 10:40, the gentleman is waiting for you," you discreetly look at your watch, noticing that the time went super quickly. "Would you mind if I invite him to meet you, y/n? I want to introduce you to one of my team guys," Nasser asks."No sir, it's completely fine," you weren't going to say no to him.

"Please ask him to come out here," the girl nods and goes back inside. "You're going to love him. He's a special one," you only smile at his words.

Your back was facing the door, so you didn't see when this man walked into the room. "Ah, my golden boy." Nassar gets up and moves to the door. "Kylian Mbappé, the man himself honors me with his presence." When Nasser says his name, you can't help but choke with the champagne. "Oh miss, you okay?" You boss asks "yes... I'm fine, sorry."

You get up and turn to face him, his face all serious, his eyes all dull but beautifully shiny due to the sunlight, his beard was new, never seen that before. God, he looks so good.

"Bonjour, Kylian," you say, stretching his hands, "Bonjour" is all he says, taking your hands in yours. You can't help but look at the hands intertwine. You pull your hand back quickly, hating but loving the feeling. "Take a seat, Kylian, please join us." Nasser can't feel the tension, but you do. "y/n is the new president of my company," he announced.

Kylian can't keep his eyes off of you, the way the sun is making you look out of this world, "That's amazing, such a smart girl"

You can't help but smile a little. Mumbling a small "Thank you".

"Kylian is our best player at PSG. He's a star." But you already knew that. He was amazing since Monaco. He's been amazing since always.

"Actually, we have a game in a few days, be my guest and come with me," he says, all excited. For the first time, your eyes left Kylians. "Oh, thank you, Nasser, but I'll have to decline, I have so much to do with the moving and the paperwork..." but he wasn't taking a no for an answer. "Let me hire somebody to help you, it's my treat to you. But you're coming with me."

You just nod and smile. Even if you want to scream, you know better than that. "Well, Mister Al-Khelaïfi, I'll love to stay, but I have a few meetings of my own, I'll let you and Kylian talk alone." You say standing up, not wanting to be around him that much longer.

"Wait, let me bring you a small something I got for you. Kylian, please wait for me, just a second." He gets up and gently pushes you down my the shoulders. "Take you time, Nass," is all Kylian says.

The silence is uncomfortable, is thick, and it's tiring. "I like that color on you," you turn your head to his side, narrowing your eyes at his words. You only nod slowly, not engaging. "And your hair looks amazing, I like this lighter shade" you can only nod again.

He stayed quiet after that, thinking what else he could do. "So, your mom still likes mashed potatoes?" He pouted his lips out of anxiety, wanting for you to answer. After a few seconds without an answer, he gives up. He put his head down. "Does yours still have that old motorcycle?" You finally answer.

He smiled. His mom does have that motorcycle, the same one you once tried to ride, failing astronomically. "She does." You nod one more time, not knowing what to say.

But before he can ask something again, Nasser announces himself. "Here it is. It's a special little something for you." He walks with a big orange bag in hand, your eyes widen in surprise. You were expecting a bottle of wine not an hermes gift.

"You can go home and open it. If you don't like the color of shape, you tell me, and I change it." He hands you the bag and you take it smiling. "Thank you, sir. I'm sure I'm going to love it."

This time, nothing is stopping you from leaving. "I'll see you monday, sir. Thank you for your hospitality." You shake your hand with his "goodbye to you too, Kylian." Not expecting an answer, you grab your purse and with gift in hand walk out of the house.

"She's all that, don't you think?" Nasser asks Kylian. Nodding to respond, smile growing. "She is."

"It's a fucking birkin" Lisa says looking at the bag Nassar gave you. "A BLACK ONE THAT JEAN PAUL GAULTIER DESIGNED." You look at her with a smile, not expecting her reaction to be this one. She owned a few birkins on her own. "Shhh, Lisa, people are staring. But yeah, it's beautiful." You say touching the bag.

Lisa and you were having a nice wine date at your favorite old spot, the one you used to come to as a freshman in college. "I can't believe he still remembers what my mom likes." You sip your wine. "Why?" You ask Lisa, as if she knew the answer.

You were mad at him for doing this, acting as if everything was fine when it's not. When he was the one who broke you, the one who left you, and the one who acted wrong in all of this.

"I thought he had a girlfriend, the ex-girlfriend of that ex PSG player. I mean, I saw them make out like three times. " Lisa, the queen of not thinking before speaking, let out as if it's nothing. You made a discomfort face. "I mean... that's none of my business. I had some flings on my own." You say trying to convince yourself that Lisa's words didn't matter. "Yeah you were a whore, man. Did you even remember half of the names?"

You spill your wine back into the glass. "My God, Lisa, would you like a microphone? Maybe the people at the back of this place didn't hear you clearly." And all she could do was laugh. "It's not my fault you were playing freebies after he dumped you, y/n. I know it's hard for you to admit it, but you were looking to forget about him while trying to find someone who was just like him."

She was right. You tried to find someone like him, someone who you could trust with your life, someone who would know every bit of you, every stretch mark, every curve. But you didn't find that. Not admitting it out loud, you did try but failed, 99% of those guys were out of the door the next day, ghosting them or simply blocking them after the night. The other 1% didn't even had your number.

"I'm not engaging," you say, sipping your wine. "Then why you say something to begin with?" She looks at you with a smile that you wanted to erase. "I'm disengaging." She laughs hard.

"Why don't you talk to him? I know it's not the best advice, but baby, you need that. You need the closure you are looking for. And you will see him at the game, so do it." She did have a point. The closure can work. "I... I don't think I'm ready to be in the same room as him yet." Even when you have already been alone with him, that was not by choice, so it didn't count. "His brother texted me," you say, smiling at the thought of his little brother, Ethan. "I miss that kid. He was nice." You nod.

"I never stopped talking to him." Saying that out loud felt illegal, even if you weren't doing anything wrong. "Why?".

Why? You ask yourself, maybe, because he was the only one who knew Kylian words weren't real, that he was the one who fucked up. "He knew." Is all you say, Lisa understood and didn't ask more questions.

You finish your wine and say your goodbyes, walking back to your parents' house, you were staying there till your things were complete at your new place.

Thinking about Lisa's words, you do need that closure. You do need to express everything. He didn't let you express. You needed that, but it was too soon, and he was the golden boy of the city. One wrong move and everything was going to end. You used Kylian wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but now it wasn't a certain thing.

But you needed to try. In an impulsive, though, you grab your phone and open instagram. Here he is, the only one at the blocked list.

You think about it, was it worth it? Was that really what you needed? You think nothing of it and press the unblock button. Opening his profile, you send him a dm.

@yourusername: Je peux te parler? (Can we talk?)

You put your phone inside your purse already regretting it. You look at the window of the stores, thinking if it's okay to give yourself a little something. Saying yes to yourself, you enter at the store, searching for nothing in particular.

"Y/n?" Your head turns looking at the woman standing in front of you. "Hi," you smile shyly, feeling a little uncomfortable. "It's so nice to see you. When did you come back?"

She was standing closer now, the little girl in her arms confused, looking at you. "I landed last week, haven't gone out that much." You smile at her and the little girl. "We missed you. It's good for you to be back." She touches your shoulder and leaves the store.

You see how she exits the store, going back to reality thanks to your phone notifications.

@k.mbappe: J'ai besoin de te parler (I really want to talk to you.)

@k.mbappe: chez toi ou chez moi? (your place or mine?)

You take a deep breath exhausted.

@yourusername: chez toi (your house)

@yourusername: donne moi ton adresse (give me your address)

@yourusername: Je serai là dans cinq minutes. (I'll be there in 5 minutes)

Kylian sends you his address, and you find a taxi outside the store, not sure if this is the right choice.

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