#my hand died in the process but it was so worth it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkandapex · 3 months ago

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you're worth it

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris and Y/N share an undeniable connection, but the pressures of F1 and personal hesitation have kept them in the "just friends" zone. Despite their close bond, an unspoken tension hangs between them, each moment charged with what-ifs. With a little nudge from fate, aka, their best friend Max, the two are pushed to give things another shot. Will Lando find the courage to make his move, or will Y/N slip through his fingers, forever just out of reach?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of anxiety.

Lando’s season had been anything but smooth sailing. Sure, the car was leagues ahead of where it had been, delivering near-constant podiums and even his long-awaited first race win. He was sitting second in the championship, closer to the title than he’d ever been. On paper, it was a dream season. But pressure had a funny way of twisting even the sweetest moments into something suffocating.

Lando had always been good at managing the weight of the sport—keeping his mind sharp, his body stronger. But even the best-built machines showed signs of wear. His friends saw it in the way his laughter didn’t reach his eyes. His team noticed the uncharacteristic silence between debriefs. His fans, ever watchful, caught glimpses of something heavier behind the usual smiles.

Now, with a rare break in the chaos, it was clear that he didn’t just need rest. He needed reinforcements.

“The food I ordered half an hour ago? Yeah… they just told me the restaurant’s actually closed now,” Lando muttered

Max blinked, mouth slightly open. “So… they told you there’s no food, and you died on Tarkov? That’s a double fucking shitter, my jeez.” He dragged a hand down his face, visibly pained for his best mate.

Lando let out a defeated laugh. “Hasn’t exactly been the best couple of months for me, really.”

Max exhaled. “Mate, you need a personal chef or something. You’ve got too much on your plate.”

“I actually have nothing on my plate right now, funnily enough.”

“Right, well—eating weeks-old frozen food from your fridge isn’t exactly the fix, is it?” Max sighed, already knowing that’s exactly what Lando was about to do.

"Don't really have much of a choice now don't I mate?"

"Chat's saying you need a girlfriend" Max states rather matter of factly

"You could say that again"

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A series of persistent knocks, followed by the sharp buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand, dragged Lando from the depths of sleep. He groaned, squinting against the soft morning light that seeped through the curtains, his brain sluggish as he reached for his phone.

A slight frown tugged at his face when he saw the caller—one of his closest friends. A couple of missed calls from both them and Max F. only deepened his confusion. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled his hoodie over his head and shuffled toward the door, answering the call as he went.

“Y/N? I just woke up—sorry, could you give me a minute? I’ll call you back, someone’s at the—” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-step.

Because standing on the other side of the door, phone still pressed to their ear, was Y/N. Bags in hand.

"Hey… Max told me you knew I was coming. Him and P just dropped me off. They’re out running a couple of errands," Y/N said, ending the call and slipping her phone into her pocket.

Lando blinked at her, still processing. "No, actually, he didn't. I didn’t even know he was coming here. Did you just get here, or?"

"I landed about two hours ago," she said with a soft laugh. "Been standing here for the past twenty minutes, though."

"Shit, my bad, Y/N. I really didn’t know." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, his brain scrambling to recall any moment where Max might have maybe mentioned this.

"Hey, it’s all good! Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I really should’ve reached out beforehand anyway. I just thought you and Max had already sorted it out."

"What? No, Y/N, don’t apologize, silly." Lando finally snapped out of his trance and stepped aside. "Come in—fuck, I mean, the apartment’s a mess, but make yourself at home." He quickly reached for some of her bags, ushering her inside before shutting the door behind them.

"What exactly did Max say?" Lando finally asked, still scrambling to pick up the mess scattered across his living room. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but this is just so... out of the blue."

"Honestly? He was worried," Y/N admitted, grabbing a few stray items to help. "Said you didn’t seem to be doing too well. Thought maybe you could use some company during the break. Listen, Lando, I came here thinking you knew about this. I completely understand if you’d rather be alone right now—I know you’re busy and all—"

"No!" Lando cut in, pausing mid-cleanup. His expression softened, and for the first time since opening the door, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. "I'm… I'm really glad you're here. Max is right. It hasn’t been easy." He exhaled, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thank you. For being here. I really appreciate it."

Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he spread his arms. "You gonna hug me, or are you just gonna stand there?"

Y/N let out a small laugh, relief washing over her as she finally saw that familiar spark in his eyes. Taking a few steps forward, she let Lando wrap her in a tight hug, his hold warm, grounding. Exactly what he hadn’t realized he needed.

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The first day of Y/N being there was more housekeeping than anything else. Between cleaning up Lando’s apartment, clearing out the fridge, and fixing up the guest room, the day passed in a blur of chores. By the time Max and P finally arrived, the boys volunteered to head out and pick up some late lunch—partly because there was absolutely nothing to eat at Lando’s place, and partly so Max could finally discuss the sly plan he had cooked up.

A heavy silence filled the car as Lando gripped the wheel, his knuckles tightening against the leather.

"You’re awfully quiet," Max finally said, side-eyeing his best friend from the passenger seat.

"Oh yeah? Wonder why," Lando bit back. "Maybe ‘cause my best friend decided to go behind my back and plan shit without telling me. The fuck were you thinking not mentioning she was coming over to stay?"

"Mate, it was all in good conscience," Max said with an exaggerated sigh. "Plus, what happened between you two… it was months ago—"

"Exactly!" Lando snapped. "I haven’t even been back home to talk about it since. Fuck’s sake, Max… it’s weird enough I haven’t seen her in ages, but springing this on me? That’s insane, even for you."

Max groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why can’t the two of you just admit you like each other like the grown, mature adults you supposedly are and get on with it? It’s honestly exhausting."

"You know why."

"I actually don’t. Please, do explain. I’d love to hear whatever shit excuse you’ve got lined up. Go on then."

Lando let out a slow, tired sigh. "I’m busy, she’s busy. I can’t just drag her along with me and make her leave everything behind so we can be together. And you know how the media is, Max. I don’t want her dealing with all that hate. You’ve seen how bad it gets."

Max scoffed. "And what do you think she just did? She dropped everything to be with you when you needed her, yeah? Her choice. She’s already doing work at Quadrant—her own volition, might I add—on top of her own career. And might I remind you, you were the one who didn’t want to go through with it. From what I heard, she was willing to make it work."

"Yeah?" Lando let out a dry laugh. "From what you heard?"

Max smirked. "Fine. P told me."

"Lando, mate. If it all goes to shit—not that I think it will—I’m sure you’ll sort it out. She cares about you. And I know you feel the same way about her."

Lando sighed, pulling into the parking lot and turning off the engine. He leaned back against the seat for a moment before finally looking over at Max.

"I know you have good intentions," he admitted. "And despite how insane this is, I do appreciate it. I’ll… see where it goes." Then, with a smirk, he nodded toward the door. "Now go pick up the food, ‘cause I’m fucking starving."

Max narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "This conversation is not over, by the way."

Lando just laughed, shaking his head as Max climbed out of the car.

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Lando woke up to the unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sounds of pots clanking and the scent of food filling his apartment. It was so foreign that, for a second, he thought he was dreaming. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled out of his room, hair a complete mess, barely awake.

"Morning," Y/N greeted, smiling as she wiped her hands on a tea towel. "There’s breakfast on the counter. I’ve got meals sorted out for the rest of the week—followed your diet, so don’t worry."

Lando blinked at her, then at the kitchen, which now looked like a fully stocked catering service. "It’s 9 in the fucking morning, Y/N. What time did you get up for all this?"

"Like… 6:30?"

"Y/N"

"What? I have jet lag."

Lando squinted at her. "We’re in Monaco. London is one hour behind."

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "I wanted to make sure I had it ready for you. It’s nothing, really—it didn’t take me too long."

"Nothing?" Lando gestured at the sea of neatly packed containers. "My kitchen looks like McLaren hospitality right now."

"It’s not a big deal, Lan, really, I—"

Lando didn’t let her finish. He reached out, gently grabbing her hand and stopping her from cleaning. "Could you—please slow down for a sec?" His voice was softer now, his brows furrowing as he tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. "Y/N, you don’t have to do all this. You don’t have to take care of me."

Lando sighed deeply, his arms instinctively pulling Y/N into a tight hug. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his heart heavy. "I don't deserve you."

Y/N’s arms wrapped around him, her voice soft as she spoke, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on his back. "You have me, either way"

Lando pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression clouded. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "Look, Y/N... we can't. I can't do this right now. What I said about us—about this, months ago... that's still how I feel. I like you... a lot, trust me, I do. But this is too much, and I can't possibly ask you to—"

He couldn’t keep eye contact, his gaze drifting as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

Y/N took a step back but stayed close, her eyes searching his. She offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I get it, Lan. I’m here for you. As a friend." She took a deep breath. "What I said, about me wanting to be here... to do this with you... I meant that too. I still feel that way. I told you I can wait. You’re worth it."

"You two done being sappy, or should I give you a couple more minutes?" Max's voice echoed through the apartment, making both Lando and Y/N jump and scramble to step away from each other in a panic.

"You little shit, how long have you been stood there listening? You fucking weirdo." In a swift motion, Lando grabbed the nearest object, a spatula, and tossed it across the room. It flew past Max’s head, narrowly missing him as he stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"So sorry, guys. I told him not to come in without knocking." P finally steps into the apartment, giving Max a pinch on his side. Max let out an exaggerated yelp, squirming away from her with a pained expression.

"Ow! Everyone’s so violent this morning," Max groaned, rubbing his side as P smirked, clearly satisfied with herself.

"You're ridiculous. Just gonna run to the bathroom real quick then we can have breakfast and plan the rest of our day" Lando shook his head with a groan, but a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaves the room

Max took the chance to walk over to Y/N, who was quietly setting the table for breakfast. "You good?" he asked, his voice low, careful not to let Lando hear.

Y/N glanced up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Take a wild guess, Max. Bet you heard enough to figure out how I'm doing right now." She let out a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place, defeat, maybe?

Max took a breath, his tone shifting to something gentler, more understanding. "Look, he... you know how he is. As much as I want this for the two of you, you don’t have to wait for him. He can’t just expect you to be there until he’s finally ready. No one’s gonna hold it against you." His voice dropped.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her smile softening. "You’re really sweet, Max, but I’m okay. I promise." She was careful, though, making sure her words felt sincere.

Max gave her a small, thoughtful nod. "Just trying to look out for the two of you is all."

"I know," Y/N replied. She didn’t need Max’s concern to know what was best for her, but it was comforting, knowing that someone understood.

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Several races had passed since Y/N was last at Lando's apartment. Despite the distance, they’d kept in close contact—calls, texts, little check-ins whenever they could steal a moment. Lando was clearly doing better, each conversation revealing just how much he’d grown over the past few weeks.

Now, it was the Singapore Grand Prix weekend, and Y/N had finally managed to take some time off work. She’d been counting down the days until she could see Lando again, her excitement mingled with the kind of nervous energy that had been building up ever since she booked her flight. The anticipation was almost unbearable, especially when she considered how much her feelings for him had grown since their last conversation.

Despite the distance, despite all the unsaid things, she found herself thinking about him more and more, how his laugh had sounded over the phone, how his presence felt like a comfort when they’d been together. But now, standing outside of Mclaren's hospitality, waiting for Lando to step out his driver room after finishing free practice, everything felt good.

"Y/N! Hey, haven’t seen you around in a while. How have you been?" Zach, a close friend of Oscar Piastri, and someone Y/N had become friends with, walked over with a smile.

"Zach, it’s good to see you. I’m great, just been busy with work is all. The car seems good, Lando and Oscar are driving really well too" Y/N replied with a warm smile, happy to see a familiar face in the paddock.

"Things are looking great. We’re doing really well in the constructors, too. You waiting for Lando?" Zach asked, leaning against the railing casually.

"Mhmm, I’m catching a ride with him back to the hotel. He texted me, he’d be out in a bit." Y/N explained, glancing down at her phone to check for any updates from Lando.

"Right... listen. Are you free any time this weekend? Maybe even after the race? I was thinking—"

"Ready to go?" Lando's voice cut in, and he walked over to the pair, bag slung over his shoulder and phone in hand. "Oh, hey man, sorry, we gotta go. Got some friends waiting for us."

Zach smiled, stepping back. "Oh, don’t let me hold you back. I’ll see you around, Y/N. You still got my number, right?"

"Yep, I’ll catch up with you next time," Y/N said, giving Zach a friendly nod.

"Perfect. Hope you enjoy the weekend. It’s great having you back in the paddock," Zach said with a grin, stepping in to give Y/N a quick hug before patting Lando’s arm as he walked past. "Great stuff today, man. See you around."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with slight bitterness as they walked toward the parking lot. "Didn’t know you two were close like that."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, hello to you too, Lando. So great to see you after months, feels fantastic to finally be here with you."

Lando chuckled, though it was clear there was a hint of jealousy in his voice, "I didn’t mean it like that, just... you two seemed pretty chummy." He smirked at her, trying to play it off.

Y/N leaned back in the passenger seat, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't know, I actually think he's pretty cute."

Lando almost slammed the door shut in frustration, his face twisting into a scoff. "Cute? Right."

"What? You jealous?" Y/N teased, barely able to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not," Lando grumbled, eyes focused on the road but his jaw clenched slightly.

"You so are. Your ears are red."

"I'm not" he repeated, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"So you don't mind if I go out for dinner with him after the race then?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone light but with a little edge, just to push his buttons. It was playful, but they both knew the boundaries—they weren’t together, not officially.

"No."

"No, you don't mind?" Y/N repeated, pressing him further.

"No, you can't" Lando snapped back, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

"Why?" she asked innocently, though a knowing smile played at her lips.

"Cause then you'll miss my victory party," Lando replied with a sly smirk, glancing over at her briefly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "Oh wow, cocky now, are we?" She let out a laugh, though deep down, she couldn't ignore how his confidence was somehow making him all the more attractive.

"Wow" Lando gasped dramatically, glancing over at her with exaggerated disbelief. "You don't think I'll win this weekend? You're breaking my heart, darling."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Don't get too cocky, Norris. The race isn't over until it's over."

"True," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I like to think I’ve got this in the bag. You better be there to celebrate my win, Y/N."

She met his gaze, her playful teasing giving way to something softer, something more real. "We'll see," she replied, a small but genuine smile on her face. "But if you win, I'll begin to think I'm your lucky charm."

Lando nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "You just might be."

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"We’ve got this in the bag, Lando. Stick to Plan A, do what you do best, and we’ll take care of the rest. Focus on the drive, and if anything shifts, we’ll adjust. We’re counting on maximum points from you two tonight." Will, Lando's race engineer, pauses, his eyes locking with Lando's, waiting for confirmation after his brief but crucial words.

"Lando."

"Yeah yeah. Maximum points, drive fast, got it." Lando mutters, his response flat, his attention half there. As important as this race is, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. She’s in the garage, talking with Zach. His Y/N. The thought pulls at him in a way he can’t shake.

Will’s voice cuts through the haze. "I need 100% of your focus, Lando. The race starts in 30." He hands him his earplugs, but Lando’s gaze is distant.

"Yep, heard." Lando mutters again, his tone quieter, his mind still elsewhere as he turns to leave, the weight of his thoughts lingering like an anchor.

Y/N and Zach were in the middle of an easy, lighthearted conversation. Lando, across the garage, could only watch, his gaze sharpening as he noticed how comfortable Y/N and Zach looked together. The laughter between them, the way they stood too close, it ate at him.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lando’s voice cut through the air, direct and intense, as he strode toward them.

Y/N looked up at him, surprised but giving him a warm smile. "Yeah, what’s up? You nervous?" She didn’t get up from her seat, still in that calm, relaxed mood.

"Alone" Lando said, his tone sharper now, as the urgency in his words broke through.

"Oh—yeah, of course." She rose to follow him, a furrow crossing her brow, concerned by the intensity in his eyes. They walked towards a quieter corner of the garage, far enough from prying eyes and cameras.

As soon as they were alone, she looked at him. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to call Max or—"

Lando didn’t give her a chance to finish. "I don’t like this. You and him, talking... being all flirty. I don’t like it." The words spilled out of him faster than he could stop them, relief and frustration flooding his chest. It was all coming out at once.

Y/N blinked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I’m not flirting, Lando. He’s just a friend."

Lando’s frustration reached its peak. "I’m just a friend, Y/N! Fuck’s sake... I can’t get in the car like this, not with this on my mind. Not like this." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Hey, Lan. What’s going on? You wanted this—actually, no, you didn’t want anything right now, did you? You said so yourself. I’m not doing this to make you jealous or get back at you, He's just a friend. That’s it."

But Lando shook his head, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "I don’t know what I want, okay! But seeing you... with him? I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, though it held a touch of sadness. She gently took his hands in hers, stopping him from messing up his hair further. "You’re not gonna lose me, you silly boy."

Lando looked at her, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood, that she felt the same pull. "One kiss. Give me one kiss. Let’s pretend nothing else matters. Just right now, right here, with you. One kiss before I go." His voice was a whisper, full of longing and desperation.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing across his jawline as she spoke quietly, almost to herself. "Nothing else matters... I don’t have to pretend. You’re all I want, Lando. Why can’t you see that?"

Lando exhales quietly, his fingers grazing her cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. They stand close, the world around them fading into the background, neither in a rush to break the moment. Their eyes meet, lingering, only flickering downward for the briefest second before finding each other again.

"You take corners faster than this—are you gonna kiss me, or should I send in a request for DRS?" Y/N teases, tilting her head with a smirk.

Lando leans in, closing the small space between them, his lips pressing firmly against hers. It’s not their first kiss, there had been fleeting moments before, small pecks here and there, brief touches exchanged in passing, but this is different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Their movements are unhurried, deliberate. It’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken, deep and certain, carrying the weight of something that had been waiting to happen.

She’s the first to pull away, though neither of them really want to. But reality tugs at Lando, he has somewhere to be.

Before stepping back, he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, another lighter one at the corner of her mouth. His lips brush her cheek, then her forehead, a quiet farewell without words. When he finally pulls away, he catches the flush creeping up her neck and smirks.

"I'm quick when it matters," he murmurs. "But some things are worth taking my time on."

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It was the kind of weekend that felt almost predestined, Lando wins in Singapore, by a massive 20-second gap to Verstappen in P2. But even with the trophy in his hands and the roar of the crowd in his ears, his eyes searched for only one thing.

And there she was.

Among the sea of faces, hers stood out effortlessly, beaming with pride, hands clapping in celebration. The victory was unforgettable, but this moment, seeing her there, cheering for him, was the one he’d carry with him forever.

Lando could hardly sit still. He’d been rocking on the balls of his feet, barely paying attention to the post-race interviews with Oscar, his mind already somewhere else. The second the cameras cut off, he was up, grabbing his things in record time, making Oscar chuckle at his urgency.

"Word in my garage is you’ve got yourself a little lucky charm now," Oscar smirked, watching as Lando fumbled with his phone, already dialing Y/N.

"Word spreads fast, huh?"

"Finally made a move?"

"Yeah, took me long enough," Lando laughed, giving his teammate a quick pat on the back as he pressed his phone to his ear.

The call barely rang before her teasing voice filled his speaker. "Why hello there, champ. Miss me already?"

A grin stretched across Lando’s face, warmth creeping up his chest. "Always, baby. Where are you? Need my post-race kiss, like, now."

"On your left."

Lando spun around, immediately spotting her seated outside the motorhome with Max and P. He didn’t even bother ending the call properly, just stuffed his phone in his pocket and made a beeline for her.

"There he is! Mr. 20-second lead. Mate, you were proper flying—"

Max didn’t even get to finish before Lando stopped behind Y/N’s chair, tilting her chin up and leaning down to kiss her. This one deeper, lingering, completely unbothered by the fact that they had company.

"Shit—when did this happen?" Max gaped, his arm tightening around P as if he needed something to ground him.

"Just before the race. Can’t believe you’re only finding out now, thought the whole paddock knew by now," Lando chuckled, hands rubbing Y/N’s shoulders as she sat there, visibly flustered, still adjusting to the attention.

"Well, damn. About time."

Y/N glanced up at Lando, still a little dazed, but the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her forget about everything else. He pressed one last kiss to the top of her head before leaning down, voice just for her.

“You’re my good luck charm.”

She laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “Guess that means I have to stick around then, huh?”

Lando grinned, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 months ago

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Right Next To You...

A/n: So I'm back. Not for very long due to lack motivation. I feel like this episode is kinda repetitive with the words. This came to me while listening to the bridge of "Die with a Smile" and i just imagined the scene where you two reunite to be on the bridge. Very edit worthy scenarios. This is kinda a mini fic. School ends this week and lucky me, my birthday is the weekend.

It's said that when a person dies, they have seven minutes left when their brain is still active for one last time, flashing before them memories of when they were their happiest.

In a moment of acceptance came a will to refuse, and Simon felt the numbness after what seemed like an endless burning heat of hell.

It seemed like he was in a haze with the look in his eyes reflecting the burning building around him as he remained unable to move.

“Breathe, love. Just breathe with me,” he murmured, kneeling beside the bed, one hand wrapped around yours, the other smoothing damp hair from your face. His voice trembled even as he tried to be steady, calm—for you. But fear and awe danced in his eyes as he watched the woman he loved battle pain for the life they’d created.

The midwife was focused and firm, her voice cutting through the haze. “You’re almost there. One more push, sweetheart. One more.”

You shook your head at first, gasping, your body exhausted, bones trembling. Tears welled in your eyes. “I can’t— I can’t do it.”

The next hour was the most excruciating for you, but it was all worth it after getting to hold your child. On the other hand, your husband was struggling to process that he finally gets to hold his little one.

"Adadadada— dadada... mmmm" The baby stimming herself by calling Simon over and over, "Yes, bee?" he responded with a chuckle.

He'd never be tired of her sweet little voice, the little yawns accompanying her babbling. She giggled her little heart out as he rested for the night. There was no other way to sleep comfortably when home with his family.

"Daddy, don't leave yet, please? Mommy and I will miss you," His daughter sniffled..

"I wish I didn't have to, princess, but you understand why daddy has to work, right? So I can give you and mommy everything you've ever wanted and needed."

"But daddy.. we need you too.." she cried.

Simon's eyes darted to the fridge and the colorful magnets that displayed the pictures, the drawings.

From the moment she was born, until now.. until the end of time, he knows deep in his heart that she'll need him. They'll need him.

How could he ever have left this behind?

Just for a second, that's all it took for Ghost... well, Simon Riley to realize.

He still has a family, imagining your reaction, what about his daughter? And yet here he was..

Then, nothing...

Waking up to the scent of medication and the ache in his body was a feeling he had become accustomed to—a strange kind of nostalgia he wished he could avoid, but found himself reliving time and time again.

He was used to the medical attention at this point, nurses and doctors checking every hour until it was visiting hour. Price came in.

"You've been out for two weeks, lieutenant. Wife's been calling me none-stop since the day I informed her of your state"

Price understood the importance of stepping aside when Simon demanded to be booked on the earliest flight home. After all, nothing comes between man and his family.

...

Simon didn't care if his feet burned, the sharp pain in his ribs meant nothing but seeing you bolting towards him at that shitty airport squeezed his heart dry.

You held your daughter in your arms, not caring all that much who you bumped into after weeks of waiting for news on your husband. All that went through your head was "What if he died? What then?".

After receiving that call from Price, which he knew made you mad, he didn't call you until the last minute, when your husband's flight was already landing. You just rushed there, not caring if you were in your sweatpants or unbrushed hair, just held by a claw clip.

His world froze as he ran.. the sheer force of the two of you colliding in an embrace was almost enough to set you both off balance. Simon groaned, "Shit.." you apologized to him as you tried to pull you away but his grip just tightened..

"Si.." your voice cracked, "You stupid bastard, can't believe you'd just.. ugh.." you couldn't help yourself, the tears just made their way out into a sob.

Simon felt your hand pounding on his chest, his little girl crying with you, cherub face buried in her own pudgy hands.

This needs to end— family is the only support he has left, and he's causing them pain, constantly worrying them and leaving them to fend for themselves. He can't care for them the way he truly wants if he stays out of reach.

He has a fucking family, he's not have a proper one all his life and he almost died, he almost left them..

He hasn't lived a good life yet.

Maybe now is the time to finally, actually, be happy—the happiness he was deprived of all his life.

@wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @thepalestinianjet @anonymuslydumb @the-second-sage @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @iexiam @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @yveevie

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tremendouscreationperson · 11 months ago

Text

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

Part 2

#logan howlett #logan 2017 #logan x reader #logan #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen #mutant!reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3

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headdinthewall · 11 days ago

Text

MATCH CELEBRATIONS ── g.clarke ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : in which george forgets to celebrate his goal during the match, so he makes up for it afterwards a/n : my brain is just full of creative ideas atm so… also can you tell george is my favourite? but i was rewatching the charity match and got this idea // italics is stephen doing the commentary content : established relationship ,, sexual innuendos ,, mentions of injury ,, a severe lack of knowledge on how football works xx

─────── THE ENERGY THROUGHOUT Wembley Stadium was electric and buzzing. The match had gone incredibly smoothly so far, with a new record of 16 goals being scored, making the overall score be 8-8 with only eight minutes to go. Your fingers were crossed on your lap, knees bouncing nervously as your boyfriend was subbed back on.

You were sat between Sabina and Arthur, both of them talking to you and making casual conversation. You and Sabina murmured over what the hell was going on during the match and the newest make up releases that were actually worth buying, while you listened to Arthur just complain about the constant off-side passes — whatever that meant.

You continuously checked your phone, a nervous habit you picked up when George wasn’t around. It made no sense — of course — because it’s not like he could text you right now anyway, he was literally on the pitch.

“Oh! It’s a corner! It’s a corner!” Arthur exclaimed, hand gripping your arm ridiculously tight, causing your bracelets to dig into your arms.

“Arthur!” You hissed, pushing him off like an annoyed older sibling.

“Sorry.” He laughed, staring at the huddle of players in front of the goal.

Tobi was stepping back, preparing to boot the ball towards them.

Just as he did, Angry Ginge completely missed his defence kick, the ball flying straight past him and into the foot of—

George.

All of a sudden, the stadium burst into screams and yells of support and excitement, everyone raising from their seats as your boyfriend’s foot knocked the ball into the back of the goal (and himself in the process as he stumbled into the net).

“Oh my God!” You screeched, standing and jumping whilst clapping, “Yes George! Oh my God, yes!”

Arthur and Isaac were just as excited as you, arms around each other’s shoulders and jumping in joy. Arthur pulled you into it and you laughed at their boisterous celebration.

George looked incredibly confused as he ran towards Tobi, gesturing between the two of them and trying to figure out who was actually to be credited, but when the rest of the Sidemen team joined in on clapping his back, he relished in the feeling.

He found you in the crowd and waved, resulting in him getting an air kiss back.

“And there goes George and his mrs, subtle PDA, we love to see it. Blowing kisses at him, though I’m sure he’ll be getting more blowing of another kind for that goal.”

You cupped your mouth with both hands and whooped for him, screaming loudly.

The cheering died down as the game continued to progress but you still couldn’t get over the adrenaline rush of the love of your life scoring a goal right in front of your eyes.

The grin never left your face, even after Theo Baker scored a last minute equaliser, making the score 9-9.

“Does that mean penalties?” You looked over at Arthur and Isaac, and they nodded.

You refrained as much as you could from biting your nails, considering you’d just had them done a couple days ago.

The crowd was in utter shock as Sketch saved Simons goal, as he was known for being a great penalty shooter.

As the game came to an end, with Speed getting the winning shot for the Youtube Allstars, a lot of people began filing out of the stadium, ready to leave and go home, yoy however, could not, as you had to wait for George.

From your spot, you could vaguely see Munya and Els doing interviews on the pitch, grabbing different players and putting a microphone in their face.

“Clarkey! Clarkey!” Munya called out, grabbing George’s shoulder and turning him to the camera. “Your goal virginity is gone!”

“Yes.” George laughed.

“How does that feel?”

“Well, it’s one of them ticked off the least, hopefully that means the second one tonight!” He joked, smirking, “No, um, honestly I had absolutely no idea that it was my goal, hence the complete lack of celebration and just, sort of, pointing at Tobi, um, but no, insane.”

“With more time, how would you have celebrated?” Munya asked.

“I—“ George laughed with a scoff, “I don’t think time was the problem, I think it’s just that I’m a pure idiot— uhm, but I do have a celebration now … where is she?” He hummed, eyes scanning the crowd and then pointing at you. “Isn’t she beautiful.”

He beckoned you down, waving his hand at you.

“Me?” You mouthed, pointing at yourself.

“Yeah! Come down!” He shouted, even though you probably couldn’t hear him.

“Is this a camera moment?” Munya questioned, confused as to what was going on.

“I mean, it’s going to be caught on the fifty thousand phones that are here, so might as well get it in good quality.” George shrugged with a laugh.

You made your way down the stairs and through the tunnel, when security stopped you.

“Sorry, love, players and interviewers only.”

“Oh, no, my boyfriend asked me to come down—“

“Tom, it’s good.” Simon came through, patting the security on the back, “She’s allowed through.

Tom nodded and let you past.

“Why does he want me?” You asked Simon, as he clearly had an idea as to what was going on.

“No idea.” He lied, gesturing for you to follow him.

You jogged up to George, ecstatic to be seeing him, and threw yourself at him, arms around his shoulders, “I’m so proud of you!”

He laughed, arms around your waist, and tapped your bottom to put you down.

“I’ve got something for you.” George stated, stepping back slightly.

Munya and the camera man cleared the scene, allowing him more space.

“What— Oh my God.”

The air was knocked from your lungs as you watched George, panting and flushed red from his exertion, as he got down on one knee.

His eyes were full of pure adoration and nothing short of unconditional, eternal love.

The air around you seemed thick, and despite the roar of the crowd and buzzing atmosphere around you, it didn’t seem real. You were grounded by his presence, and the scenes around you disappeared, as if it were just you two, alone, on a field of grass.

“Reader … you have been in my life for seven years now, and those seven years have been the most wonderful, exhilarating years of my life, and I genuinely couldn’t have done this whole Youtube, social media thing, without you.”

You burst into tears, unable to control yourself.

“Waking up next to you every morning is like witnessing the human embodiment of an angel, and there is no one else I could dream of doing that with. I don’t usually believe in ‘everything happens for a reason’, but I whole-heartedly believe that we met for this reason. Because you are my soulmate, through and through. You’ve been there for me through everything, from tough times like when my mum was sick and to the best days of my life, like asking you to be my girlfriend, and every day that’s followed since.”

Your sobs were uncontrollable as you nodded with his words, your hands on your cheeks.

“You’ve put up with me since day one, which shocks me, especially since I sweat like a pig when it’s only eight degrees outside, and even though we lost the game today, I know that I’ve already won in life, because I get to call you my girlfriend— and hopefully my wife.” He laughed, clearing his throat as he neared on crying himself.

“So … reader … will you marry me?”

The question lingered for a split second and you were entirely speechless, opting for a shaky nod instead of saying anything.

“Yeah?” He muttered.

“Yeah.” You croaked, holding your hand out.

He grinned and slipped the ring on. Once it was secure, he shot to his feet, lifting you off the ground. Your arms locked around his neck and your legs around his waist as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“To Mr and Mrs Clarkey!” Munya exclaimed into the microphone and everyone erupted into cheers.

“I love you so much!” You sobbed, pulling away from his neck and placing your hands on his cheeks, “Of course I’ll marry you, oh my God!”

He laughed at your reaction, giving you a chaste kiss, keeping it appropriate and sensible for the cameras and children in the crowd or watching.

yourusername

liked by arthurtv georgeclarkeey chloeburrows and 439k more

after five years on knowing you and four years of dating you … i can legally call you mine (soon)💓

tagged : georgeclarkeey

georgeclarkeey aren’t you sweet x

↳ yourusername and you’re performative, proposing in front of everyone like that x

georgeclarkeey loving you forever x

↳ yourusername loving you forever and always x

chloeburrows awww, the cutest! so happy for you two💞

arthurtv ‘we might have lost the game but i’ve won life’ 🥶🥶🥶 (congrats you guys❤️)

↳ georgeclarkeey cheers, was waiting for your approval (thanks mate❤️)

chrismd10 proposal was almost as cold as my free kick mate

↳ stephen_tries give it a rest, it was one of 18 goals

behzingagram best proposal oat🙌🏼❤️

sidemen ❤️❤️❤️

↳ georgeclarkeey thanks for letting me do that guys

livvydimartino beautiful girl🥹 so happy for you xx

↳ yourusername thank you ml💓

bambinobecky he can’t take my munchkin from me. tell him i’m coming for him

↳ yourusername nothing can split us apart becky x

↳ georgeclarkeey i can read her comments🤓🤓

arthurnfhill george please film fifty more platform roulettes before a baby clarkey is on the way

↳ yourusername don’t plan on getting preggy for a while yet finchy x

↳ faithlouisak neither did i babe x

user1 everyone’s getting married and having babies now!! this is so cute it’s so nice seeing everyone make their own families!

user2 the fact that she immediately burst into tears🥹

↳ user3 she’s so real for that honestly

user4 clarkey for the best proposal of all social media couples!!!

user5 they’re so in love it makes me feel sick (with jealousy)

#ukyt #george clarke #george clarke fanfic #george clarke fics #george clarkey #george clarkey x reader #sidemen #chris dixon #arthurtv

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yizhou-time · 6 months ago

Text

LOVE, MAYBE

MASTERLIST | WC: 1.5K | RELEASE DATE: 29/11/2024

IDOL!SEONGHWA X FEM!READER

Synopsis: Just two friends in love who let their feelings be known in the first snow of the year.

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers.

Rina’s notes: Song's to set the mood because I listened to them when I wrote this: Really Like You - Baby Monster, Love, Maybe - Baby Monster, Try Again - Jaehyun, d.ear, Fearnot (Between you, me and the lamppost) - LE SSERAFIM, love you twice - Huh Yunjin

“Just be careful, just because it’s snowy doesn’t mean it’s not icy!” Seonghwa watches you from behind with a small smile while you walk ahead. He stands still under his umbrella while you’re crouched down in the snow, smiling when you pick it up.

The cold nips at your fingers when you dig into the snow. You pick up as much as you can fit in your hands and make a ball, you continue this process seven more times, making them vary in size as you do so. Lining them up next to each other you giggle. Your fingers are wet and cold and completely red but it’s worth it when you look back and see Seonghwa smiling back at you.

The snow falling only makes him prettier, his umbrella up to prevent him getting covered in the snow while your hair and coat are dotted with snow. It reminds you of when you went to see the cherry blossoms fall together, his umbrella up while you’re steps ahead taking in the beauty of it all (Seonghwa was busy watching you, much like now), and you smile at the memory. That day had solidified your feelings for him even more when he stood in front of you picking out the petals from your hair one by one while telling you that although you looked pretty the petals were making a mess.

He ends up crouched next to you looking at the snowballs, “It’s you!” You point at the end. “And there’s Hongjoong.” You point at the smallest snowball and he laughs. After that everything fades out, he turns to you and you look so happy explaining how each one of them are his bandmates and all he can think about is how considerate of them you really are all jokes aside, how quickly they’ve taken to you.

Seonghwa continues to watch you as you make a joke about them being snowballs and their song being called ‘Ice On My Teeth’ but when he doesn’t laugh you turn to him quietly. “Seonghwa?” His trance is broken but his smile never fades. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s missing something.” You frown but he simply passes you the umbrella and reaches for the snowball you had dubbed as him, he takes it and puts it in front of the line. Just as you go to speak he picks up some snow and makes a much smaller snowball and places it next to his so they’re just touching. “There we go. You and me.”

Your face goes red as you stare down at the snowballs. Shyly you look down before lightly bumping your shoulder into him and thus knocking him over. The pair of you laugh, you at him and him in shock. “That’s not fair!” Seonghwa complains as you stand up. He half expects you to help him but instead you stand up and turn your back to him. You dip your head down and fan your face, you place your cold hand on your cheek to try and calm the burn but nothing works.

Seonghwa stands up next to you and brushes himself off, still laughing. “That wasn’t fair!” He whines.

“Should’ve been more careful.” You laugh along with him.

The laughter dies down and eventually you’re both left staring ahead on the street smiling. Slowly you lower the umbrella and close it, now both of you are out in the snow. Seonghwa takes it from you quietly and ties it shut. The pair of you take small, hesitant steps forward as you can see the intersection where you have to split up. Both of you walk forward with not much left to say. It feels quite intimate, especially since you’re so close with your arms touching.

He can feel the back of your hand brush against his ever so slightly and it makes his heart burst. Slowly he moves in to lock your pinky fingers, standard practice for both of you when it’s crowded except the street is empty besides a few people on the other side. This point goes unaddressed by both of you, you’re as shy as each other. You silently kick some of the snow in front of you causing Seonghwa to laugh at your childish antics. He’s sure tomorrow his cheeks will hurt from how much he has been smiling today but he can’t help it, he wants to lock this feeling up in a bottle and keep it forever if he can’t have you for that long.

As you reach the lamppost on the corner of the intersection Seonghwa moves to hold your hand. You turn to him silently and he thinks you look perfect in this lighting. He thinks you look perfect anyway but it’s moments like these small intimate ones that make him realise why he fell so hard because even in the cold, in the snow, you make him feel warm and fuzzy inside and all he can do is hope he makes you feel the same way. You look down at your locked hands and watch as his thumb strokes your hand.

You can see the building his dorm is in from where you’re both standing to your right (you’re also both sure you can see San and Mingi outside in their coats playing in the snow) and you can see the way back to your apartment straight ahead. You look at both of your options and feel Seonghwa tug at your hand, turning your attention and body to him in the process.

“It’s quite cold.” He says ever so quietly.

You nod at him. “It’s snowing Seonghwa.”

“It’s the first snow of the year. Four years as friends and it’s our first time doing this together.” He sounds somewhat guilty for calling you friends but he takes a small step forward. “We should do this tomorrow too, if it snows.”

You reach up and push back some of his snow covered hair and nod in agreement. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Just as you let go of his hand his grip tightens, not enough to hurt you, he never would, but enough to let you know he doesn’t plan to let go. “Seonghwa.”

“What?” He tilts his head slightly, feeling you hold his hand again but he doesn’t call you out for it, instead basking in it. “If it’s almost midnight it’s almost tomorrow, right?”

You turn your head to the side, feeling your cheeks burn up again but rather than making a comment or laughing he leans forward and places a short kiss on the one facing him. You whip your head around to him and he’s centimeters away from your face. Seonghwa lets out a soft giggle that is music to your ears. It makes you want to stuff him into your pocket and keep him for as long as humanly possible but the next best thing is letting go of his hand and instead wrapping your hands around his waist. He’s quick to hug you back, leaning his head against yours as you rest it against his shoulder. You can feel the umbrella against your back and although it doesn’t feel the best you’re happy to be in his arms like this.

“We should probably get going.” You mumble, closing your eyes as you do.

“Probably.” Seonghwa agrees but neither of you move. “Thank you for today.”

“We should do it together every year.”

“We should do everything together all the time I think.”

“Really?” You laugh, entertaining him.

He nods firmly. “We should wake up together, eat all our meals together, clean together, watch TV together, sit together in silence, cuddle together, go to sleep together, all the time.” He states matter of factly.

“That would be nice.” You can feel yourself get sleepy, his soft tone mixed with his warmth it’s hard not to.

Seonghwa pulls back, still holding onto you though, and you do the same. His eyes scan your face for an answer and your smile is enough for him to know that you couldn’t agree more.

Silently you pull away fully and reach for his hand much like he did with you. “Let’s go home?”

“Let’s.” He puts your hand in his pocket with his and begins walking forward, you follow along quickly. Your steps aren’t as slow as they were previously but they’re by no means rushed. It feels normal, intimate, domestic, you aren’t sure you can really put a word on it but everything came naturally to the two of you. You’re just glad you’re here with him like this after trying to figure out how to deal with all these feelings after so long. Sure there will be other hurdles like touring and being busy but it’s all things you’ve dealt with before.

But right now is what matters, right now you’re going home with the person you love most in the world because he loves you back just as much and that’s all you can really ask for. Just you and Seonghwa in your own little world.

#RINA’S FICS #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez scenario #ateez au #ateez scenarios #kpop imagine #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa imagine

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dreamsofbroflovski · 6 months ago

Text

Kenny McCormick x Reader - i luv your girl

Also available on ao3!

Summary: Being stood up when you have the absolutely perfect anniversary date planned would be enough to send anyone spiraling and make them question if anything is even worth it at this point. Luckily for you, the perfect loverboy is willing to sweep you off your feet and show you a good time to help you make a decision.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content (everyone involved is above the age of consent), Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cowgirl Position, Semi-Public Sex, Cheating/Infidelity

A/N: Ugh, I am so fucking sorry. I had this thing like, 75% done on my Docs, and then something else on my life took complete chokehold on me and I couldn't make any progress on it at all for several days. I promise I'll try to write quicker and post more often in the future. Next up on the chopping block (I'm not actually chopping him up, though he deserves it) is Kyley-B, for a request (I'm taking those now) (Also sorry to the follower for taking so long to get to it I am a disgrace)

“Come on… Come on… Pick it up, will you…”

Clutching my phone in my hands firmly, close to my face as I stared at it with my eyes drifting between the ‘Call’ screen and the battery icon, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk. The sun shined bright and beautiful in the sky, still my mood was anything but - the nerves were exponentially starting to get to me, and I was on my last line.

It was supposed to be my two-year dating anniversary with my current boyfriend, and I had the whole day planned to perfection. Taking advantage of the fact that the weather forecast was announcing a very warm and sunny day - which is rare for our town -, I planned to spend the whole day with my man, starting off with a whole picnic in the park around the local pond. I was wearing my prettiest floral sundress and had a whole basket full of goodies to be enjoyed under the sunlight. Had made sure to arrive early and wait in a place that was of easy access for both me and my partner so we could walk to our destination together. It was all perfect.

Perfect, except for the absence of my other half.

For three hours now I had been waiting, sitting on a bench near a local restaurant that I usually frequent for lunch on workdays, looking around all the time for any signs of him, and he had not arrived. I called and called with my phone but they all went to voicemail, sent a bunch of texts that stayed on delivered - and worse, my battery was now close to dying out, since I forgot to charge it before I left, not thinking it was important since I didn’t plan on spending so much time on my phone anyway. It was currently running at 4% as I tried to call him as many times as possible before it died out and I had to think of another plan.

My heart skipped a beat as the call was answered.

“Baby? Baby! Where are you?” I exclaimed as I put my phone to my ear, my agitation clear on my voice.

“Mmmmm… Hey, babe… What’s up…” An extremely groggy version of my boyfriend’s voice came through the phone’s speakers, not nearly close to matching my anxiety.

“What do you mean, what’s up? Where are you?” My mind already had a faint idea of the answer, but I had a sliver of hope in my heart that it might be wrong.

“Huh… In bed.”

Of fucking course. “In bed? How? It's almost 2pm! We were supposed to meet three hours ago!” It was not my intention to scold him, but in my exasperation it sounded exactly like that.

A few seconds of silence from the other side of the call as my partner seemingly processed the information. “Damn… Sorry, babe. I stayed up late gaming with the boys and slept through the alarm.” He sounded slightly less groggy now, like my revelation was a shock to his brain, but not by much.

“I called you so many times, though!” I countered, “Why didn’t you pick those up?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I thought it was telemarketing or something.” His voice didn’t carry a hint of remorse.

I took a deep breath, trying not to scream or make a scene right there on the street. The day was so beautiful, I just didn’t wanna waste it arguing. “Well, you’re still coming, right?” I asked, trying my best to sound patient and less accusatory. “Can you give me an ETA or something?”

“Babe, let’s just… Let’s just take a rain check, alright? It’s late already.” He sounded as nonchalant as could be as he said that, as if the thing he was cancelling wasn’t our literal anniversary date. “I promise I’ll make it up to you some other time.”

“It’s our anniversary, baby! I’m already here! What do you-”

With a jolly ringtone, the call was cut short. I put my phone in front of my eyes just in time to see the animation of it turning off on the screen, my battery breathing its last before the device died completely.

And then there was just me.

In small, shaky steps, I made my way to a street bench nearby and sat down, setting my picnic basket to my side and watching with glazed eyes as the cars went by on the street, still clutching my phone in my hand. After waiting for so long, making excuses for my boyfriend’s tardiness on what was supposed to be a date to celebrate the day our relationship started, a date I planned from beginning to end and made sure was completely flawless, it all went to shit in the span of one phone call that didn’t even get to end because I ran out of battery before it could. I was left alone, heartbroken, stressed and with no way of going back home except on foot.

Allowing myself to have at least one thing I wanted, I lowered my face, hiding it with my hands, and let the tears roll fast and plentiful. My whole body shook as I sobbed, all the nerves of the day taking physical form in the salty droplets running from my eyes, as I recalled not just how much of a bad current situation I was in, but all the previous disappointments in my relationship that I swept under the rug because of love. And, deep down, I knew I was likely to let the broom of my self-neglect swipe this one, too.

For what felt like forever, this was all that I had. One of the prettiest outfits of my life, a basket full of food, painful memories running through my mind, tears that didn’t seem to be able to stop running down my cheeks. Until I got something else.

“Hey… Ma’am? Miss?” A gentle male voice called near me, seemingly out of nowhere, bringing me back to the world of the living, so to speak. “Can I help you? Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, still not looking to the source of the sound, now feeling deeply ashamed of myself. Engrossed in my own feelings, I forgot this was still public space and someone was bound to question me at any time, considering how nosy people in this small town tend to be. “I’m fine,” my voice cracked a bit as I said it.

“I am pretty sure you aren’t,” The voice responded, with a sliver of irony, but still gentle, like he wanted to make sure I knew he wasn’t laughing at me. I felt a hand on my bare shoulder - calloused fingers shook it with just as much kindness as I heard in the voice behind them.

“It’s alright, sir,” I sniffled while trying to steady my voice, hoping my fake reassurance would be enough to make this unknown person leave already. “I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry about it.”

“‘Sir’ is my dad,” He chuckled, “My name is Kenny. At least to all the pretty girls. So call me Kenny.”

His response took a small giggle out of me, even if my whole mind found it inappropriate to do so considering the circumstances. Whoever it was that tried to talk to me was actually making an effort to make things better, not just ask questions out of obligation or curiosity. Slowly, I wiped my tears away with my hands, answered him with my own name and lifted my face up, trying to put an image to ‘Kenny’. And put an image to it I did.

It was almost like the head and body of two different action figures smashed into one. From the neck down, it was simple and rather elegant. The man wore all black, as was common for that restaurant’s waiters; The usual dress shirt with the restaurant’s logo had its first two or three buttons open, making it just slightly more stylish. The charcoal gray apron wrapped around his hips was perfectly spotless like it had never been worn before, and he wore a pair of dress shoes that seemed to have been recently shined.

Once my eyes went up, though, everything seemed to change. His blond hair was styled in some sort of shaggy mullet. The very visible dark circles under his eyes came as a stark contrast to his laid-back posture and the youthful energy I just felt emanating from his body. On the matter of his eyes, I couldn’t pinpoint their color for the life of me; Some trick of the sunlight was clearly at play in them, because in some angles they were blue and in others I could’ve sworn they were lavender. Some tiny reddish nicks speckled his jawline and chin, likely from shaving and not doing a very good job at it. When his mouth was open, I could see that his teeth were slightly crooked, and he had a bit of a gap between the front two on the top row.

The things that were the most startling about his appearance, though, were the scars and piercings on his face, and those he had several of. I could count two eyebrow piercings, a nose ring, a single earring on his right ear and an industrial bar on the other that seemed to still be healing. On the matter of scars, all of them were healed and faded, but screamed gruesome stories; One on his upper lip that went up to end at the side of his nostril, another one on his temple, and a third, the biggest, started on the right side of his jaw and went all the way down to the start of his neck.

To be honest, I liked the look of the top part more than the bottom.

As he saw me looking up at him, the corners of his lips curved into a smile, a genuine one filled with kindness. “Wanna talk to someone about it?” He asked as he pushed my picnic basket on the bench away and sat to my side, leaning forwards with his face towards me.

“Ugh… No, I just…” My fingers ran through my hair in stress as I threw my head back, feeling my eyes burn with tears again and trying to chase them away so I could at least leave this situation and go home without further questions.

“Let me guess… boy troubles?”

It was a rather sexist guess on his part, but I wasn’t about to fight it, because he happened to be right. “How do you…?”

I turned my face to look at him and he pointed to my hand on my hair, where on my ring finger rested a thin silver band with my boyfriend’s name engraved on the inside. “You’ve got a ring.” Turns out he wasn’t being misogynistic at all. He was just too attentive, something I’m not used to.

With a sigh, I slouched forwards with my face down again.

“Now I’m curious,” Kenny admitted as he leaned back on the seat of the bench, resting his arms on top of it, “What kind of monster made a goddess like you cry like that?”

I shook my head again and pointed to his shirt, specifically to the restaurant’s logo embroidered on the uniform. “Don’t you have somewhere to be right now?”

“Don’t worry about it. The place’s practically empty right now. Most people are at the mall or at Stark’s Pond anyway.” He shrugged. “And besides… I shouldn’t tell you this, but my boss is acting kinda crazy thinking you’re scouting the place to rob. So me being here probably puts his mind at ease because now he has a witness.”

Great. Just lovely. Now, on top of my whole shitty life situation, I’ll also have to find all the workers at that place looking at me funny whenever I go in for lunch. “So you told him you’d come here to teach the possible thief a lesson?”

“No. I told him there was no way in Hell someone as adorable as you was up to no good.” It was the third compliment on my appearance in less than five minutes of interaction. Apparently he was the type of man to not be deterred by something as ‘insignificant’ as a woman’s boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Well, your boss can rest assured,” I said, “I was just waiting here to go on a date. No robbery plans.”

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded slowly. “But I saw you while I was working. You’ve been here quite a while. What happened?”

“Well…” I took a deep breath, trying to put it all into words without bawling immediately - it still didn’t stop some tears from falling and my voice from cracking as I finally spoke again, “Apparently, my boyfriend slept past his alarm and forgot our anniversary date.”

Sudden movement to my side had me startled and I looked up again. Kenny was on his feet, an exasperated expression on his face. “What a bastard! YOU’RE sitting here, looking like a fucking snack for him, and your stupid ass boyfriend is at his place sleeping when he could be ravaging you?”

This man sounded genuinely indignant, even if extremely crude - in a twisted way, it only served to fill my brain up with more thoughts that maybe I wasn’t being treated as decently as I deserved, because I found myself not wanting to dispute him or make excuses for my boyfriend’s behaviour, either. “Don’t put it like that…”

“I always put it in in many ways,” Kenny sat back down next to me on the bench, the double entendre he spat definitely understood and ignored by me when I tried my best not to laugh, “And the only thing your boyfriend there seems to be putting is stress on your shoulders.”

He put his hand on my back and rubbed it gently slowly, as if trying to physically remove this figurative weight he mentioned - and, surprisingly, I felt it working even if just a little bit. My facial expression probably gave my enjoyment away, because he didn’t remove his hand even after he stopped moving it, and I let him keep it like that.

“I mean, it’s not that bad…” I avoided Kenny’s gaze as I uttered those words, and immediately the pain he had soothed came crashing down again. “It’s just one date. I’m sure it’s-”

“Don’t you start this on me now,” Kenny interrupted before I could continue my poor attempt at a dispute, “You know it is that bad. It’s your anniversary. Fuck, if I had a chick willing to do all that for me, I’d stick to her like bubblegum on a shoe,” he chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair, the thought of having someone who cared about him that much apparently making his brain run amok - he was probably the type of person to try to get things done for people instead of the other way around.

“And I’ll say more,” he took a deep breath and continued as he took note of my silence, “Even if it was just a date, you should still be pissed. You agreed on something and he fucked it up. And now you’re here, looking sad and hot. If this happened to any of your girl friends, you’d tell them to send the garbage dick to the gutters, wouldn’t you?”

I tried opening my mouth to argue further, try to defend my man’s behaviour or justify it, but found myself running dry of the excuses I usually had on hand. It was like something inside of me had snapped, and if there was one goddamn day of my relationship where I would allow myself to be angry and expect reparations, it would be this one.

“Thanks, Kenny,” I murmured, nodding slowly and letting my gratitude shine through my eyes as well when I gazed into his, “Means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it,” he shook his head, making his shaggy hair flow beautifully and frame his face even better, “Consider this my first real attempt at becoming employee of the month.”

In a weird way, Kenny’s presence and his charisma were starting to make me feel better. I felt drawn to continue talking to him, if just to hear his voice more.

“Are you a new hire?” I asked, signaling with my head towards the restaurant where he worked at, “I come here often and I’ve never seen you there before.”

“Oh, no no no, I’ve been there a couple of months now,” Kenny was quick to answer, waving his hand in front of him to emphasize the negative, “But I usually just do cleaning duty and help in the kitchen. They don’t want me waiting tables because I ain’t exactly got a face for customer service.”

I didn’t argue with his comment, but it wasn’t for a lack of wanting to. The man sitting next to me was absolutely handsome. Every single one of his features displayed intense personality and charm, and the words in his voice always sounded extremely seductive no matter the subject. Kenny had a natural magnetism to him that most men could never have no matter how hard they tried. However, he was nonetheless a bit rough around the edges, and the piercings and scars probably were a red flag when it came to employment. Not his fault and there was nothing wrong with him, the only one to blame was our current society.

“Anyway, today I’m actually covering for a friend of mine,” Kenny continued, “Got in some sort of trouble and couldn’t be here, so he asked me to cover for him and it was the least I could do.”

Using my amassed knowledge of the restaurant’s usual waiters, I went through my mental images of all of their faces to try and guess who his friend could be. There was this other young man, about our age… “Is it the other blond guy? Also with the… You know, over his eye?” I moved my finger in front of my left eye, tracing a scar I remembered the other man having. Were facial scars an integral part of the restaurant’s uniform?

“Butters. That’s him.” Kenny nodded with a smile. “Really nice dude. Reliable. He’s covered my ass a couple of times, vouched for me to get this job too. I gotta check on him later to see if everything’s alright, he never misses a workday.”

The sincerity in Kenny’s voice and the way he beamed about his colleague made my heart feel warmer. There was obviously more to their friendship than just being work buddies, and I was sure this ‘Butters’ guy was very near and dear to him. Maybe next time I went in there for lunch we could strike a conversation or something.

But all good things must come to an end. With a stinging reminder that I still had a phone with zero battery on me and a whole walk to my house ahead, which would set me back on my ‘not think of my life’ objective a lot, I decided I should just cut that umbilical cord and let my new buddy go back to living his own.

“Well, Kenny… I think I really need to go. Don’t wanna take up any more of your time.” I run my hands over my eyes one more time, even though the tears have already all spilled by now and are basically dry. “Thanks for everything. All the best to you.”

I get up from the bench and wave him a goodbye, but feel him grab my wrist and tug at it as I try to leave. When I turn to him again, he’s holding up my picnic basket in his hand. “You forgot your… your thing here.”

He pushes it toward me, but I don’t pick it up, instead just making a dismissing motion with my free hand. “Keep it.” I shook my head. “I’m not hungry anyway. Think of it as a token of appreciation for keeping me company.”

“You’re not hungry? That’s bullshit!” He gets on his feet as well and tries giving me the basket again, more insistently this time. “You were waiting here for hours without eating. You must be starving.”

Kenny wasn’t wrong. During our whole conversation, I could feel the familiar pangs of hunger in my belly, my body’s painful way of begging me for sustenance. However, just thinking of coming back home all alone and having to eat all the food I prepared for me and my boyfriend, knowing full well that it was supposed to be for a special occasion and I had instead been bailed on like it was nothing, was enough to make my eyes burn again with the threat of another crying session. I wouldn’t be able to do it.

To keep myself from crying again, I just let out a downcast sigh. “It’s alright. There’s too much for just me anyway, I don’t want it to go bad. If you keep it you can at least share with your buddies or something.”

“Well, I’m still not taking what’s yours, that’d be fucked up. But…” His eyes darted to the side, looking towards his workplace, then back to the basket his holding and then finally to me again.

“But?”

“Well, as it turns out, I haven’t had my lunch break yet.” His hand releases its grasp on my wrist and he picks up his phone in the pocket of his apron briefly to check the time, putting it right back after he does. “So I think you can still have that picnic.”

It was unbelievable. “You’d… Do that for me?”

“It would be a real mistake to let such a perfectly prepared meal go to waste.” He made a gesture with his hand, towards my picnic basket - a gesture that I could’ve sworn encompassed me as well, theory only made stronger by the mischievous glint I definitely saw in his eyes.

His boldness had me flabbergasted. In any other situation, I’d be nothing short of horrified at the thought of an unknown man inviting himself to my business like that and basically taking over my day - but Kenny had been so kind, helping me with nothing but caring words as I bawled my eyes out, taking time away from his work to make sure an unknown woman was safe and okay while asking for absolutely nothing in return. And he seemed so genuine about it, too - even if he had made some playful passes, I wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable around him. He was being extremely nice about all of it and I found myself not ready to go back home and face the music of my terrible life just yet; Maybe Kenny and I really could have a great time together, even if it wasn’t what I originally planned.

“If you really want to…” I give him a gentle smile. “Let’s go, then.”

His eyes light up like a child’s as he hears my acceptance, and he hands me my basket to hold before starting to walk with purpose past me, leaving me confused. “Just stay here for a bit, okay? Don’t go nowhere.” He calls out to me, but as he sees my eyes widening and a little sadness flash behind them - I hadn’t considered that I’d had to wait even more for Kenny now, and my whole experience with today had me a little paranoid -, he’s quick to add: “I swear I’ll be quick, it’s just to warn the other folk! Be back in a flash!”

With a deep breath, I decide to trust him on this one. “Go, go!” I yell with urgency, turning my attention to other parts of my surroundings while he goes do what needs to be done.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. After just a couple minutes my ears picked up rushed footsteps coming in my direction - Kenny was now straight up running to meet me. He looked mostly the same, with a few key differences; He had ditched his apron completely and was now wearing a big orange parka with brown details on the hoodie. It looked cheap , old and beat-up, with a bunch of very visible stitching on the seams, like it had ripped off and been sewn back together multiple times before. It also had a couple dried dark stains splattered around it, but I wasn’t about to ask what they were.

“Feeling cold?” I pointed at the new addition to his outfit.

Kenny shook his head and shrugged, the jacket making a very characteristic plastic-like sound with his movement. “Just thought I might need it.”

You’re gonna sweat in that was my immediate thought, but the judgement that followed was to not to waste any time debating his decision, he’s a grown adult and must have his reasons. I adjusted the basket on my forearm as I began to walk, but Kenny quickly moved to my side and pulled it away from me, locking his right arm with my left one and holding the basket with his other hand. I turned to him with a confused look, but he said nothing about it, instead choosing to go on about something entirely unrelated as we made our way to our destination.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The trip to Stark’s Pond was quite short, but filled with fun and laughter all the way nonetheless. Kenny was making progress on his objective of keeping me distracted from my current situation, telling me lots of jokes and sneaking compliments every other sentence like it was second nature for him to say them, which it might as well be. I had no doubt that, for anyone who went past us on the street and didn’t know who we were, the only thing they saw was one extremely happy couple.

I ended up learning lots of stuff about him, too. He opened up like a library book, probably to compensate for the fact that he saw me so vulnerable earlier. I found out that he was an extremely hardworking man, needing money not only for his daily expenses but also to help his little sister pay her university tuition - between that and his treatment of me, a person he barely knew, I had no doubt he truly had a heart of gold.

Besides the daily shifts at the restaurant and some odd jobs here and there whenever he got some free time, he was regularly busy during weekend nights, working as a bartender at a club in Main Street. I knew the place like the back of my hand. It was my old stomping ground - I had spent many a crazy Friday and Saturday night there, and it was also where I had met my current boyfriend, a drunk hookup that became a bigger thing. Ironically enough, once we made it official, he began to get bothered whenever I talked of going there and would give me the silent treatment if I did, so I eventually just abandoned it altogether to keep the peace.

“Well, if you ever feel like coming back,” Kenny said after I commented on the coincidence, “Then keep me company at the bar. Drinks on me. And not that overpriced stuff full of ice we usually make. Real alcohol.”

I told him he was full of shit and waved him off, but made a mental note of what he said… Just in case.

When we arrived at the lake, it was immediately verified that Kenny’s predictions about what the people in town were doing for the sunny day were correct. The park surrounding the pond was peppered with couples in love whispering sweet nothings to each other while watching the clouds, families with children throwing frisbees to their dogs, and groups of teenagers being as loud as they usually are and causing stress to everyone around them. My eyes scanned the space around me, looking for a decent open spot to sit down - meanwhile, Kenny just kept walking like he already knew where he wanted to go, and I absentmindedly followed him.

The realization that we had deviated a little from the main path only comes to me when the sound beneath my feet goes from soft grass to crunching twigs. We were breaching the forest nearby, Kenny bringing me swiftly around the trees like his legs had their positions down pat. I knew for a fact that there was a trail of beaten dirt through this same forest for those who wished to take a stroll in it, but we weren’t following that path. As I shoot an inquisitive glance and a frown towards my new friend, he just smiles, acknowledging my confusion but not missing pace over it.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, I have the perfect spot,” He turned to me, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Unless you wanna go back and we can go sit next to those highschoolers with the speakers blasting 6ix9ine.”

I shook my head quickly and emphatically, immediately getting a pep in my step. “Oh no, I trust you on this one.”

Our little unexpected promenade didn’t last for much longer. Soon the trees started to spread more distant from each other, and we arrived at a small open area, a random glade I had never seen before. The tree canopies bunched together didn’t create their patchy roof over our heads any longer, so the sun was free to shine and warm up my skin. The branches fallen on the ground were few and far between, and the grass was decently smooth and level, perfect for relaxing on it. No animals were to be seen, probably scattered away much earlier after hearing our noises, but I could hear birds singing in the distance and catch one or two flying high above our heads.

“This is a nice place, Kenny!” I exclaimed, turning to him with a smile. “How much roaming around the forest did you do to find it?”

“I guess I’ve known about it for a while. Me and my bros come here all the time to have a smo- Think. We come here to think.” I laughed after hearing Kenny immediately try to correct himself, his sudden interest in a tiny pebble on the grass not going unnoticed either.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, I’m not a prude.” I shrugged. “Think anyone else might get the same idea today?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. And if they do, trust me, they’re gonna leave.”

Deciding once again to not question Kenny’s words or his methods, I opened up the basket in my arm and picked up a yellow and white checkered picnic blanket, opening it up and stretching it over the grass. My unexpected companion immediately started to help me spread the contents of the basket neatly on top of it, making all our food options easily visible.

And there were many of them. I had been quite proud of myself beforehand for managing to prepare a decent amount of stuff for my date, but it dawned on me that if I hadn’t had Kenny by my side it would have taken me a couple of days to get through it all on my own at home. Me and my improbable new friend talked a bunch more while we made quick work of the small club sandwiches, homemade chicken pie, carrot cake, some assorted snacks and drinks from the grocery store, and…

“Chocolate-covered strawberries? Seriously?” Kenny held up the small red box, shaking it slightly. “The big expensive ones too. You really went all out for this.”

“Hey, I forgot I had that! These are the best!” I let out a small squeal of surprise, the memory of having picked up the sweet treat earlier at the candy store having gotten lost in my head over all the stress I went through. I reach my arm towards Kenny, the tiny box too far away for me to get to it naturally. ”Can you pass me one, please?”

After I finished my request, my ears picked up some particularly close chirping, and I quickly turned my head around to look for any sign of a small bird that could be producing it, my hand still extended towards Kenny with my fingers wiggling as I waited for him to give me one of the sweet treats. I heard the characteristic noise of the box being opened, and something being shuffled inside of it, but nothing ever made its way to me. When I turned to see what was taking Kenny so long, I realized why - Kenny was staying put with one of the strawberries held between his teeth with half of it sticking out of his mouth. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes held the message of what he wanted me to do next.

I had to admit, I considered it for a brief moment. It was a simple act of play, but so sensual as well - I hadn’t been able to do this kind of silly stuff in quite a while, and it ignited something in me that had been dormant for a while now. I felt wanted. However, my moral compass was still blaring its sirens loudly in my brain, and I didn’t want to lead my whole life astray just because one guy I just met was giving me all the attention I needed. “Oh, come on, give me that!” I feigned annoyance and reached over to try and pick the fruit out from between Kenny’s teeth, but he quickly just gets all of it inside of his mouth and starts chewing.

“Had to at least try.” He chuckled, with his mouth still full, before picking out another strawberry from the box and handing it over to me properly this time.

“Do you try this with every girl who offers you food?” I inquired with irony in my voice as I plucked the small leaves off the top of the fruit, “The whole loverboy act?”

He swallows before answering this time. “Only when they’re as cute as you are,” He replied, “Which means I’ve never done it before in my entire life.”

If my eyes could roll back further into my head, they’d dislodge from it. “Like I said, Kenny, you’re full of shit,” I retorted right before popping the whole strawberry in my mouth, closing my eyes to savor its taste. My next words came slightly messed up, as I spoke with my mouth full, covering it with my hand. “I bet the girls are all over you with that.”

While I chewed on the fruit, Kenny stayed totally silent, his eyes scanning the plaid pattern of the picnic blanket under him. “What if it’s not an act, though?”

The sudden seriousness in his tone made my eyes shoot open immediately, and I flinched a bit, a frown creasing my forehead.

Kenny started scooting closer and wrapped his arms around me, suddenly pulling my body in one quick motion so I was seated between his legs while he hugged me tightly from behind. I tensed up completely in his arms, and didn’t dare make a movement even when his heavy breathing on my shoulder made the fine hairs behind my neck stand up. “Ken… I…” My uttering was almost non-audible, voice still strained from the surprise.

He grinned against the crook of my neck. “Ken, huh?” Kenny’s murmurs came out slightly muffled by my skin, “I can be that today, if you need me to. Just say it.”

“What are we doing, Ken?” My voice slowly started coming back to me, and I looked down towards the grass, seeing Kenny’s leg stretched right next to mine, barely touching it. He was too close now for me to be able to shake off his advances or pretend they’re just jokes; There was nowhere to go but right through them. “I shouldn’t be here…”

“What you should be is with someone who values you.” He cut my sentence with a firm and decided tone in his voice, getting a tighter hold of me between his arms. “A real man, not that sucker you’re dating right now. Someone who treats you right.”

I wanted to argue with him, ask him who he thinks he is to assume things about a woman he barely knows - but I knew his words to be true, there’s no point I can try to make that will make them not so.

Seeing that I was both not moving from my position and not disputing his claims, my guess is that he had newfound energy to get his point across, because he continued talking. “Do you know what I would do if I had a woman like you by my side, huh?” Kenny rhetorically asked, his voice almost a growl. “I’d wake up at the crack of dawn every day to provide for her. I’d make love to her every single night. I’d be the one planning dates and showing her a good time. I wouldn’t leave you alone to cry in the middle of the fucking street, I’d be too busy making you happy instead.”

“You said ‘you’ right now.” I immediately pointed out, even though it’s unnecessary. “Not ‘her’. ‘You.’”

“And I fucking meant it.”

With that, one of his arms loosened its wrap on my body and reached far for the tiny box containing the chocolate strawberries, and he picked one up in his hands, bringing it close to our faces. This one had a different design from all the others - instead of the usual white chocolate lines over the milk chocolate covering, this one’s got small red hearts as well. It’s more detailed, a tiny touch of romance to what is usually a very sexy treat in nature. Kenny cleaned the leaves out of the strawberry and took a bite out of it, holding the other half close to my lips. My nostrils immediately took in the sweet scent of the fruit, but I didn't open my mouth just yet.

“Look, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wanna do. But if you let me, I’ll make you feel real good. Promise.” He murmured, digging his left hand’s fingers on the soft side of my belly one last time. The ball was fully on my court, but I could still feel the hints of his desperation for my body as he waited patiently for my answer.

Slowly and nervously, I parted my lips and let Kenny put the small piece of strawberry inside of my mouth himself, hearing him sigh in relief behind me as he did so. Once he withdrew his fingers from my mouth, that’s when I finally bit down on the small treat. This one isn’t as sweet as the others; It might not have been as perfectly ripe, so it had a tiny tinge of sourness mixed up in the fruit’s flavor. The milk chocolate around the fruit almost masked it up completely, though - the whole combination tasted absolutely heavenly, not just for the fruit, but also for the implications of it. I was in deep now.

Kenny almost doesn’t wait for me to swallow what’s in my mouth before turning my face to his and kissing me fiercely, his left hand getting tangled with the hair in the back of my head. I kissed him back with the same amount of fervor almost immediately, and all of my worries over this whole situation dissipated from my head like dry ice; Fuck what needed to happen for us to get to this point, fuck my problems and how I’d sort them out, fuck morals and especially fuck the outside world. This tiny little section of the forest was our own personal bubble, and I’d live in it for as long as I could.

When the tip of Kenny’s tongue brushed my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to grant it access, I realized I hadn’t accounted for one more piercing of his. The tiny little ball sitting in the middle of his tongue didn’t feel as cold as I thought it would, so it was more the sudden change in hardness and texture that threw me off a bit. I kept my cool, though, as I put my hands on both sides of his face and pulled it even closer to mine. I decided to try something out and touched his piercing with the tip of my tongue, flicking it ever so gently - I immediately felt Kenny’s hard-on twitch inside of his pants against my lower back.

As our tongues slid around each other and explored our connected mouths, his right hand slowly made its way up my thigh, sneaking under my clothes, ghosting over my bare pussy. I had been having so much fun with this man today, I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t wearing anything under my dress. Just this slight contact was enough to make my breath hitch and Kenny broke the kiss, his hand freezing in place.

When I opened my eyes, he was unapologetically staring at me. Mouth agape in surprise, pupils wide, it almost seemed like the whole galaxy was behind his eyes with the way they shined. Kenny looked like what someone would if you told them all of their dreams had come true at the same time.

“What a lucky son of a bitch.” He uttered almost non-audibly, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upwards into a delighted smile. For a moment, I wondered if he was talking about my actual partner or about himself. I wasn’t able to ask, though - Kenny’s left hand immediately grabbed my chin and tilted my head up, holding my face, ear and neck in perfect positions for him to start kissing, sucking and biting them voraciously.

The middle and index fingers on his right hand went back to gliding up and down my folds, picking up the building slick from my entrance and spreading it all over before settling over my clit and drawing quick tight circles over the bundle of nerves. Before I knew it, I was putty in Kenny’s hands, squirming and arching my back as much as I could in his grasp, my moans filling his ears and working as fuel for his ministrations.

Eliciting a whine of annoyance from my mouth when he did, Kenny took his hands away from me, not without planting one last wet kiss to my jaw. While I cooled down, steadying my breath, he brought his fingers over to his mouth, sucking on them and licking slowly. Then he sighed. “Fuck, no. This won’t do at all. Need you on my face, baby.”

I didn’t even have time to register what he said or the implications of it before he let go of my body and started moving behind me, stretching his legs under mine. When I quickly turned back to see what was up, he was already fully laid down with his head on the blanket, hands pulling at my thighs like he wanted to bring me closer to his upper body.

“Wait, what?” I tried to get up at my feet, but his pulling made me lose balance and I quickly sat back down as gently as I could, my knees now at both sides of his abdomen.

“Come on, over here,” he called, still trying to drag me over his body towards his face, “Or do you want me to beg? Because I’ll do it.”

Somehow the idea of Kenny begging for something like this made a blush spread quickly across my cheeks and ears, which probably burned bright like a beacon. How to explain to this man that I had never done what he wanted me to do?

My question was answered almost immediately - like everything else in my interactions with Kenny, I didn’t have to tell him, he knew straight away. “That fucking asshole,” he let out a disgruntled huff, rubbing his face with his hand as if completely stressed.

“Excuse me?”

“Your damn boyfriend,” he immediately responded, huffing again as if the mere thought of that man made him angry, “Can’t even eat out his own fucking lady properly.”

“I never said…” Once again with all my damn defenses, but this time it was aimed at myself. I’d feel awkward admitting to Kenny that even though I was fairly experienced, what with the long-term relationship, I still knew very little about my own pleasure.

“It’s written all over your face, baby,” he said, gesturing towards my beet red features, his expression softening. “But it’s alright. You take a seat and enjoy the show. This is my shift.”

He then started playing with the hem of my dress, twirling it between his fingers, waiting for my next move. Slowly, but surely, I started scooting on my knees towards his face, turning my face away as I got closer to his mouth. As I finally got to it, my bare cunt hovering above his face, his arms wrapped around my thighs and started pulling me down as if he wanted me to fall on him - was this guy trying to have his neck broken? To stop him from actually succeeding in this endeavor, I lowered myself steadily to where my folds were touching his lips.

And he got to work right away. His tongue started by licking tentative stripes through my slit, capturing on it my already plentiful arousal - I could hear Kenny’s satisfied groans as he tasted it, but the front of my dress falling over his head shielded me from any facial expressions.

His fingers splayed on the soft flesh of my thigh tightened their grasp as he started licking and sucking faster, and I leaned forward, putting my hands on the floor near Kenny’s head for stability.

“Yes, Ken! More! Aaah!” I called out once his tongue picked up speed, tugging fistfuls of my own picnic blanket as my fingers tried to dig into the floor. Seemingly content with my feedback, he mumbled something against my pussy, as if trying to speak, but the only thing that was definitely caught by my senses were the vibrations against my folds, all the way to my core.

Then and there I realized that Kenny might be an actual genius. Whenever his tongue would lap at my clit, or make its way to fuck my cunt again, I’d feel the tiny piercing on top of it - and it increased my pleasure tenfold. The extra stimulation of the hard metal ball with his soft tongue had me seeing blank before my eyes with every quick successive movement, and he knew it too, because I could hear him groan as he’d purposefully lap and flick and curl with his tongue mercilessly.

Before I could catch myself, I was rocking my hips against Kenny’s face, trying to get more contact, more of anything he could give me. His jaw and tongue followed my movements perfectly, like he was well prepared for this exact reaction. My thighs were quivering from the pleasure he was giving me as well as the strain of the position while I tried not to completely fall on his mouth. It didn’t take much long for me to figuratively do exactly that, though; With a loud cry that probably scared every single animal in a radius across the forest, I came on his mouth, my hands grabbing a fistful of the grass under them while I rocked shamelessly against Kenny’s face, riding it through my release. I could feel his nails digging at the flesh of my ass, but he never made a movement to pull me away, eating me up like a man starved.

Once I started coming to my senses again and brought back enough strength to my thighs, I lifted myself up away from Kenny’s face slowly and hiked up the front of my dress, looking down to be able to see his face at that moment. He looked back at me through half-lidded eyes, his cheeks and nose sporting a reddish flush that definitely didn’t exist before. My juices are splattered all around his mouth and he has this massive stupid grin on his face, showing almost all of his teeth.

“Gorgeous.” He uttered once he saw me staring back, his voice raspy and lazy. I merely chuckled, going backwards on my knees until I was close to his hips, where I finally settled, lowering myself back down to sit right on top of the generous tent formed in his pants.

Kenny lifted his upper body up on his elbows once he felt me positioned against his still clothed cock. “Oh, aren’t we eager now?” He teased, patting the ground next to him. “Lay down here, baby. Let me sort that out for you.”

I shook my head with a smirk. “I don’t think I will. This is my shift now.”

His eyes widened, astounded, as I put both my hands on his chest and pushed him back down with full force of my arms. His head was still lifted as his back hit the ground, and I made sure to maintain our gazes connected as my hands drifted to his pants, unbuckling and unzipping them with dexterity.

“Are you sure?” Kenny inquired, his eyebrows arched, but I was positive I could see the faintest hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. “I mean, I’m all for it, but aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine. I wanna do this.” I tug down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock, rolling my hips a couple times over it just to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Besides, it’s good thigh workout.”

“Not that you need it.” Kenny’s hands ran over my legs, giving my thighs a light squeeze. Once he saw my hand going towards his dick again as I prepared to take him inside of me, however, his grip released and his arm reached over somewhere. “Wait, wait, wait! Time out!”

I glanced confused to the side and saw Kenny dragging closer to us his parka, which had long been discarded to one end of our blanket, and he stuffed his hand inside of one of the pockets. “What is it?” I tried to ask, but he just rummaged around in it for two or three seconds more before bringing out a blue foil package.

So that’s why he needed to bring the damn jacket. “Someone’s well prepared.”

“I mean… Better be safe than sorry.” Kenny replied, handing me the tiny square. “Come on, I was about to hang out alone with the hottest chick in town. A guy can dream, you know?”

I twisted the wrapping between my fingers, analyzing the information in it. Average size - though that tells me next to nothing about what I’m really working with - and of the ‘Ultra Thin’ variety. This fucking guy. “You’re clean, right?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely!” He answered at record speed, nodding for extra emphasis. “But I mean… It’s for your best, right?”

I placed the condom right back on top of his parka. “I’m on the pill,” I reassured him as his face sported a totally confused expression, “So, if you’ll let me… I want to feel you, Ken. Really feel you.”

He swallowed hard again, his dick twitching with more precum leaking out of the tip as he took in my words. Still pleasantly surprised by my decision, he slowly nodded, closing his eyes and seemingly letting himself relax - though I could almost see all the little cogs in his brain moving wildly with all the lewd thoughts he had of me, and it made for great fuel to my ego.

My hand wrapped around Kenny’s cock again and I lifted my hips up to get in perfect position on top of it, moving the tip around my entrance teasingly, spreading his pre over it and getting it mixed with my own slick. When I finally slipped about an inch fully inside and my cunt gave one small initial clench around it, Kenny’s eyes shot open and he grabbed my thighs again, like he was fighting the temptation of pulling me down immediately.

“Tight… So fucking tight…” He grunted between gritted teeth, his dick twitching once again. His words like fire on my lower abdomen, I steadied myself over him before slamming my hips fully down and burying him to the hilt in one motion, both of us letting out loud groans as he stretched my walls with little preparation. Kenny’s nails dug at my thighs with this, leaving the tiniest crescent marks on them.

After a few seconds to adjust to his size - the longest seconds of my life - I lifted myself up agonizingly slowly before sinking back down again, trying to keep a slow and teasing pace, but failing miserably as I quickly began picking up speed and riding him in earnest. His enthusiasm matched mine, his hands on my thighs moving to my ass, feeling every jiggle and bounce of my flesh.

And that wasn’t the only thing of mine that bounced that he seemed interested in. Now that Kenny’s eyes were open, he basically zeroed in on the movement of my breasts, pupils glazed over with hunger. Determined to give him the show he was so interested in, I quickly removed the straps of my sundress from my shoulders and pulled down the neckline, so that my tits were on full display for him. That same stupid grin he had exhibited earlier showed up yet again.

“Mmmm… Like what you see, Ken?” I teased, brushing a wild strand of hair off his face with one of my hands, my soft touch lingering.

“Fuck yes,” one of his hands left my behind to knead at one of the perky mounds, “You’re perfect. Your boyfriend is a fucking-” I silenced him immediately with a particularly hard crash of my cunt on him. I needed not hear further from his mouth except for grunts or praise.

With every roll of my hips and slap of my skin against his, I wondered more why I took so long to surrender to him. My decision to let him hit it raw might have been irrational, but I didn’t regret it one single bit; He filled me up so perfectly, his length like the perfect massager to my inner walls, bringing me bliss like I hadn’t felt in quite a while. My hands grabbed and tugged at his shirt while I moaned with the full force of my throat, throwing my head back as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of me with every movement I made.

“Ken… Ken… Aaaah…” His nickname left my mouth like the chorus of an earworm song, ever present, the only thing I could think about in life. And I continued to say it over and over, making sure that it would permanently stick to his brain as well, my voice his only true companion even with the deafening music of the club he worked nights at.

“Hell yeah, baby,” he groaned between gritted teeth, “Let it out… You keep saying my name like that and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind here…”

Even if he said it like something that was yet to happen, lowering my gaze to Kenny’s face told me that he was already absolutely going through it. His eyes were tight shut and his eyebrows were furrowed, almost in a manner of deep concentration; He was trying his hardest to not finish before I did, and it was awkwardly endearing.

The pace of my hips slowed briefly as I lowered my upper body down towards Kenny’s chest, keeping balance by holding myself on my elbows bent to the sides of him. Once he’s not as overwhelmed with pleasure and felt the tip of my nose ghosting against his, he dared open his eyes to meet my caring gaze and soft smile. He immediately wrapped his arms around me and lifted his head from the ground just barely, his lips chasing mine, yearning for their velvety touch - which I granted them gladly, taking him in a luscious kiss as my hips slowly regained their previous momentum.

“Beautiful… Like a damn angel… Heaven’s got nothing on you…” Kenny whispered against my lips as soon as they parted from his, and those words on his voice made my heart skip a beat yet again - it was like he knew all the buttons to press to make me melt for him, even though we barely knew each other - but I knew that after all this I was definitely keeping him in my personal circle.

Our slight experiment with real affection didn’t last long, though. In my new position, my clit was making contact with Kenny’s skin and being stimulated with every movement I made; Soon I had to take my face away from Kenny’s to bury it in the crook of his neck as I moaned, feeling my orgasm fast approaching again from the combined effort on my pleasure spots.

My thrusts became shorter and even quicker as I felt my muscles tightening again, the upcoming climax threatening to consume me, with my thighs also trembling and burning from the straining ‘workout’. I continued grinding on him with wild abandon until I came on his dick with a shuddering cry of his nickname; the sun in the sky feeling almost cold in comparison to the electric warmth that coursed through every inch of my body, sparks of pleasure jolting through my muscles, making my cunt contract wildly around that man’s dick as if trying to make him a whole part of me.

As a tough roar reached my ears, the motion of my hips was abruptly interrupted by Kenny’s hands grabbing the sides of them and holding me firmly in place; He replaced my movement with his, bucking upwards in an intense burst of stamina as he now allowed himself to chase his own release. Given how long he had been holding back and how quick and powerful each of his thrusts were now, it doesn’t take long to catch up to him - soon his hips jerk up one last time and stay firmly in place, and I feel his cock twitching as it fills me up with jet after jet of his warm seed.

He stayed put like this for a while, with his hips raised to meet mine, the sounds of our heavy breathing the only thing audible in the little clearing at that moment. When I decided to make the first move and get up, Kenny’s softening dick sliding off of me and allowing his cum to start dripping down my legs, his arms fell to his side and he stretched his legs, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

“Someone’s happy,” I commented with a smile as I laid down beside him, watching the sunlight hit his golden hair just right.

“Ya think?” Kenny responded with a rough chuckle, immediately wrapping his arm around me and pulling me closer so I’m resting on his chest with my legs draped over his. “Damn, baby… I’m never letting you go now.”

Coming down from my high, I expected all of the usual occurrences associated with descriptions of cheating you see in fiction to wash over me: Regret, sadness, anger at myself - or, if I was a narcissist, at this man for indulging me -, despair, maybe I’d even start running some excuses in my head. Absolutely none of these thoughts came to pass. Instead, as I laid on top of the picnic blanket soaking in the warm sun with a peaceful Kenny lazily petting my hair, I felt a sense of absolute bliss; After so many things that seemed wrong in my life for the past two years, I was finally having a moment where I’m certain something is right, and the definitive decision was made in my heart to never let it be otherwise again.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

We unfortunately didn’t make it back to the restaurant before Kenny’s lunch break ended, which meant he’d probably get a scolding from his manager for being unpunctual. When I apologized for making him late, though, he didn’t seem the slightest bit worried about it - his boyish grin stayed on his face the whole time, and he was actually acting more mad about having to leave me and go back to waiting tables.

He did bring me inside of the restaurant through a door in the back and led me to the employee’s break room, where one of his colleagues had a charger I could borrow. I used it just enough to be able to call an Uber and have battery for the ride home, not wanting to overstay my welcome when Kenny was already on thin ice because of our escapade. Before I left, though, he still made sure to put his number on my contact list, under the pretext of ‘me sending him an album I mentioned earlier that he might like’; However, as he winked and blew me a kiss before being called over by one of the cooks to pick up an order that was ready, I knew music would not be one of our top 10 subjects in conversation.

Only two text messages were sent from my phone that night. One very long paragraph to my now ex-boyfriend, listing all the problems I had with our relationship with several examples and telling him to disappear from my life before blocking his number - not wanting to give him even the slightest chance to manipulate me - and deleting it for good. Another much shorter message, to a contact just named ‘🧡’, containing detailed information about my favorite drink in the whole world and telling him to have it ready by 10pm.

Dividers by

@cafekitsune

#south park #south park fanfiction #south park smut #south park x reader #sp x reader #south park fanfic #south park x y/n #kenny mccormick #sp kenny #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x you #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny x y/n #kenny x you #ao3 #x reader

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idekkkjja · 2 months ago

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idol sugar mommy aeri with reader !!! (inspired by her recent ig post !!)

BLING BLING ˚₊‧꒰ა $ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ G!p Giselle x fem! reader

-`💳´- Being an idol who’s extremely successful with money loading in bank accounts was worth the pain and sacrifices in the past; the non-stop preparations for the public’s eye and endless concerts had the satisfying flickering of the green papers brushing against each other in stacks all worth it.

Oh, and the look of your adorable eyes shining in happiness is worth it too.

Heads-up: English’s not my first language so soz, sugar mommy Giselle, public(?) sex if fucking in a changing room is in that criteria, a bit rushed smut IM SORRY THIS MY SECOND EVER G!P.. and rushed ending, oh she has a mommy kink too. She’s a bit of a loser too. You both are and that’s okay x. Fluff too, Giselle’s so down bad.

🧾⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ It all started with you using K-pop as an internal escape from the stress of your two bare-minimum jobs, and it barely paid off all your needs including college.

Specifically, one girl group called Aespa. Their new hit ‘Girls’. Captivated by this mixed Japanese-Korean member, named Giselle, your little obsession occurred when startled by her viral red hair fan cam dancing to the song.

Oblivious to the extreme backlash received by haters and annoying K-netizens, your whole phone was filled to the brim to the point of Giselle.

Giselle wallpaper, Giselle home screen, Giselle profile picture, Giselle desktop screen, and you name it. Anything that came along with the beautiful woman that is free merch, you snatch it. Not that you were a solo stan, the opposite actually, you despised those species.

You loved all the members, maybe your bias was one percent higher although that was not the point. Rather, whenever you caught your subconscious having favoritism towards her from the others in videos and such, you made sure to pour all that your heart had to the rest.

Luckily—this fan-girl phase (or not)— has motivated you to save up the spare money you barely had after using it on rent, monthly tuition fees, food… oh, and taxes. This would take a while, wouldn’t it?

And your thoughts manifested to life, because it did. Taking long, exhausting months to more months, (including the cruel coarse work piled up on your aching shoulders) leads to a new comeback from their long break called ‘Spicy’.

Were you desperate to buy the newest album? Of course, one hundred and one percent. You would sell your infuriating younger sister to buy this gem.

Knowing this severely anticipated moment quote on quote, your trembling hands had money enough to buy the plastic-covered album at the front of the music store, the unbothered cashier carefully placed the single item in the plastic bag provided and handed it to you without a single peek; already yelling out the another squealing customer behind you.

Dashing straight home to your pity, cramped flat, you screamed in pure joy and jumped around in celebration. This was the reason why you grinded so hard!

Opposite to the influencers online who carefully and precisely nit-picked their packages open, you ripped it apart like a starving banshee, exploring the first-ever album and caressing it lovely.

Now, the photocards time! Praying internally to win one single photocard of Giselle, since it was enough for you to last a lifetime… you inhaled sharply, and your nerves jumbled for a moment that would last a minute maximum.

Embracing the darkness, you counted three to one snapped your eyes open to Karina, and screeched your lungs out in delight nonetheless! And found out you had all the ot4 member photocards individually, just an extra Karina one, and that made you die of happiness.

Rummaging throughout the whole album, exploring every single inch and leaving them not untouched: you made sure that the money that brought you into sweat would not go into the drain.

And it didn’t.

Gasping in horror, your heart paused for one single beating moment processing what’s displayed in front of you.

A fan call… with Giselle. Your parasocial wife.

Tomorrow at 13:00 sharp.

This whole day from morning to early evening went by too well, you narrowed your eyes in suspicion and the official logo confirmed it was true.

Stunned, you sat there for about five minutes still and blankly stared at the wall. Not knowing what to do.

You can’t write a script, you wanted this whole ordeal to go as smoothly as possible not wanting for you to mess up or your outrageous phone and wifi to ruin meeting the love of your sob-story life!

Time skip to tomorrow, you didn’t have one wink of sleep last night, pondering about the haunting fan call and what you would do and say.

Did you want to be part of those ‘cringy K-pop fan call complications’? Never, over your dead body.

12:56, you got ready to look well resembled and fit for this situation and made sure to be in the best corner of your home to get the best quality despite you knowing greatly that it wouldn’t benefit the terrible camera quality.

Each minute, your keen and expectant gaze stared without blinking at the screen hoping the notification would buzz on your phone anytime soon.

Please. Please.

And it happened.

Buzzing in the background was heard, and your breath was stuck in your constricted throat, witnessing the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen in real-time. That she is actually real.

"Hello!" Giselle formally greets, being polite as she could and looking at the phone expectantly for a response. You were very pretty, she could tell even with the trashy quality.

Nothing came, you were stunned, eyes popping out of your eye sockets as you just subconsciously had a staring contest with her. The idol was... confused, yet interested and she tilted her head, trying to catch your attention.

Were you perhaps lagging?

"Hello?" Again, she repeated herself and cleared her throat.

"H-hi, h-hello," you babbled out, being the epitome of a broken record itself. Visibly amused, Giselle leaned back in her seat and laughed softly.

She's never seen you before, not at fan meetings, concerts, or fan calls with any other members. A new fan, she saw countless of the same individuals in these events, but it isn't hard to admit that seeing a new face is refreshing.

Since it is the last call of today, it doesn't hurt for it to last a little longer than necessary, right? You were entertaining after all, despite not speaking too much yet.

"U-uh, this is my first ever fan call..." you admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck like a loser, a cute loser to Giselle.

The latter leaned closer, noting how easy it would be to tease you playfully. "Ah, really? I couldn't tell." Sarcastically, she remarked, holding her breath not to burst into laughter at your reddening face.

"Ask me anything, baby, I can be here all day if you'd like." Unintentionally, her flirty demeanor confidently stood out; it was all because you were so shy... and adorable, how could she not resist?

"I-I... well, it's been a while since your world tour ended, and you guys, I assume, stopped your deserved break?" Taking a deep breath to carry on your nervous rambling, you shyly peeked at the screen again, seeing Giselle so keenly listening to you, which just made you more flustered than ever and snapped your gaze back to your fidgeting fingers.

"I wanna ask when are you guys going to resume your concerts?" You finished your sentence, glancing up again at the camera, finally having a spine and meeting her eyes. Though obviously it didn't last longer than a maximum of three seconds.

Her perfectly done eyebrows furrowed together in a moment, deeply thinking about an appropriate answer to say without spilling out too much because of the company's annoying restrictions.

"Don't worry, it will be soon, very soon," Giselle emphasised, a knowing smirk tugging up on her glossy, scrumptious lips... don't ask how you knew which lip gloss she was wearing. You did your detailed research and should it go to waste? No, obviously!

“Really?” Excitement wavering in your face, you leaned closer, and the cracked lenses gave your blurry-ish face justice to your features that got the other woman captivated.

The manager hopefully wouldn’t notice, right?

Subtly, in her scrawny handwriting, she gestured the wrinkled paper with her phone number on it sneakily to the screen trying to signal you. “You can screenshot,” she whispered and your trembling hand gripped your phone into a death grip and screenshotted repeatedly.

Your dreams came true! Maybe, you could become friends with your beloved idol.

As the loud buzzer went off repeatedly signaling the fan call was about to end, Giselle smiled and winked at you with a charming small wave. “Text me,” she mouthed and the fan call ended abruptly.

Was it unfortunate? A little… you did want to talk to her more, but at least you got her phone number!

Later on to the night, you texted her and she was extremely kind.

Little did you know, this led onto ‘friendly’ dates where she paid for every expense, even reaching out to buy luxurious items for you that you couldn’t pronounce the names of.

Wow, all you thought was how much of an idol life benefits to the never-ending money.

Back to the present, oh and the presents she gets you on a nearly weekly basis? It was a variety of watches, clothes mainly, or money itself! This was heaven, you know, although it did catch you off guard by how bold she is sometimes.

Subconsciously, you assumed she’s just a very caring friend and rich. Oh, did you mention that she was rich?

In one of her two-seater cars, leaned against the comfortable beige seat that you never thought you would get the chance to sit down ever in your life; Giselle drove with one hand and another splayed casually on your thigh, the sunlight flashing on her branded glasses.

Noticing how bright red your face was, and not from the heat but from her hands, she bursted into laughter: the laughter that could pay all your debt, college fees, and bills alone.

“You okay there?” She blurted out, raising a curious perfectly-manicured eyebrow.

Shy, you wanted to question on her behaviour and why she pampers you so much specifically with buying things for you. It was a little odd considering the friendship.

“I don’t want to get the wrong idea here…” you started off gingerly glancing at the side window before looking at Giselle, who’s distracted by your conversation to concentrate on driving.

“But you keep spoiling me, like too much for a friend, y’know? Like a sugar mommy.” Immediately, her ears perked up at the phrase and snapped her head towards you, her eyes full of lively emotions and a growing anxiety that maybe you wouldn’t accept her offer behind the blank lenses. Maybe, you would lash out at the offer she so desperately wants to give you.

“Would you be surprised if I…I want to be your sugar mommy?” Jolted in your movements, your eyes slowly went onto hers as she took off her glasses to meet your gaze.

“Huh?” Simply, that was your response, an unnerving answer heavy with uncertainty that gnawed at Giselle’s insides.

“I can’t bear to repeat myself, Y/n.” Ashamed visibly, she looked down before facing the front, her face carefully constructed into a stoic mask to not reveal that she was crumbling inside by the assumed rejection.

Yet, she continued awkwardly, to make her point across at least. Not wanting to seem as if a perverted older woman behind the polished-clean perfect image she had as an idol.

“I've… you told me about your college fees, right? How when you paid them, you barely had the rest to scrape by food, right?” Desperately seeking your audible approval to carry on, she subtly glances over.

“Yeah.” Lazily, you drew out, listening to the bizarre idea of justification having a sugar mommy… that was your favorite idol; it seemed forbidden, too risky to agree to.

“And… and it’s not out of pity or charity work. I want to see you happy, Y/n. And it makes me happy too, and my love language is… gifting, you can say.” Unable to repeat the unspoke unallowed term in the conversation—knowing well that it would just make things more awkward than necessary—Giselle resorted to it to brief it out and glorify it a little.

Not so hesitant now, you peeked at her gingerly, fidgeting with your fingers. “I’ll… I can consider it.”

“Can I convince you?” The red light lit up, indicating a stop, and Giselle swiftly slowed down to a stop, using the short time as an excuse to discuss this.

In anticipation, you sighed, tilting your head in rising curiosity about what she meant in the vague question. It could be anything.

"As in?" You urged her on to continue, and the woman didn't hesitate either.

"Shopping trip." Was the offer mouth-watering and enticing? Yes, really so. Oh, you had to. You hadn't gone to a mall for so long to shop for yourself.

Finding yourself in the buzzing crowds of the mall, bold signs of high-end brands everywhere, with passersby drooling at the sight of the clothes displayed in the windows. Like a child spotting a bright, huge lollipop, you surprisingly shamelessly bought nearly everything in most stores you just wanted to 'look around' in.

Good for Giselle, her money you're spending so carelessly for wasn't even 10% of what she got in her bank account.

Brushing your fingers affectionately against the high-quality, silky fabric, you sought a beautiful dress to wear to a party that would occur later in the week. To enhance your beauty, to make a difference and shock everybody at your college that your wardbrode isn't limited to trashy shirts and baggy jeans.

Giselle noticed how your eyeballs burst into love hearts seeing the tempting dress, so, she whispered against your ear, "you want that?"

Flinching, your face turned into a tomato. "W-well, if you want to spend your money on it... it's a bit pricey. I don't need it, you don't have to!" All acting shy now, the other woman wanted to laugh, finding it endearing how boldly you were using her card for other clothes that were more expensive, and you don't want to spend a little on this one.

She had to buy you this.

Gently, Giselle slid one arm around your waist, leading you to the changing room and gave you the dress supposedly in the right size for you. "At least try it on," she insisted, persistently waiting outside.

Then, a sheepish murmur called out of the changing room for her.

"Giselle?"

"Yeah?" Giselle automatically answered, a little inquisitive about why you were calling her.

"Can you please... uh, help me out for a sec?" Despite how timid you sounded, she rushed in as if helping her baby mama in a labour room and saw the button-up undone on your bare back of your dress.

She swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand. You tried to seem unbothered, too, ignoring that her cool breath was ghosting the back of your neck, making you involuntarily shiver.

"Is this okay now?" You nodded to her question, though the tension in the cramped space made you dizzy.

Subconsciously, her slender fingers stroke up on your sides to caress your exposed collarbones lovingly, pressing her fingertips into the soft skin as if illuminating a sensual massage as her eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

“You like that?” Giselle breathes out, knowing well what the answer would be.

“Yes...” Your voice cutely cracked, making her laugh lightly against your shoulder.

Leaning closer to your face, the other woman paused in her overflowing affection. “May I do a little more?”

Is that even a question?

“Please.”

Desperation was clear in her hasty movements, pinning you against the side wall carefully, kissing you messily as if planning to have something more since day one of knowing such a pretty girl like you.

Both hands protectively splayed on your back, holding you still as her lips devoured yours as if she had touch-starved for years, her breath stuck in her throat when her aching bulge grazed against your throat in her skirt.

Embarrassed, Giselle’s breathing quickened and she pulled away slightly. Her doe, regretful eyes met yours slowly, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, shy too. This was a hopeless scenario.

Feeling the thick tent, brushing insistently on your revealed thighs, you hung back your hand just yet. “Can you… you know.”

Regardless the situation being painfully awkward, Giselle found herself falling over heels for you.

Unbuckling her belt, she zipped her jeans along with her tight boxers, revealing her cock springing up and pre-cum already leaking on the pink tip like her pink hair.

Her mini handbag hung on her shoulder, she zipped it open and got a condom, opening it quickly she put the oil-drenched plastic over her dick which was so, so, painfully hard and ready for you.

Propping your legs around her waist like a belt, Giselle sloppily pampered kisses on your jaw, plastering her chanel lipstick stains all over to brand you as hers.

Unbothered to take your skirt off, she tucked it up and nearly tore off your panties but knew it wouldn’t cost much anyway to get you a new pair.

“My underwear, I just bought them a few days ago!” You whisper-shouted, annoyance etching on your face.

“I’ll buy you a better pair, today maybe,” she husked through gritted teeth, lining up her tip and rubbing it against your dripping clit enhancing a low muffled moan out of your lips.

Too much dazed in pleasure not even when the sex started, she rammed up her girthy cock in you and clasped your mouth to muffle your moans; she forgot this was in public.

“Shh, shh, I’m sorry baby… mommy’s got you,” Giselle bit her lip to stifle her groans, slamming in a little more reluctantly to not make too much noise in a dressing room.

Creating a soothing tempo for you specifically, she pants hard, leaning a little away to see your glazed-over eyes and holding eye contact. Oh, that alone was enough for her to cum as your inner walls hugged her cock so snugly.

“Oh fuck!” Giselle whined into your shoulders, trembling uncontrollably, thrusting up against you desperately as she rode through her shattering orgasm.

Trying to catch her breath, she felt sweaty and hot, her jaw slickened with sweat trailing down to her collarbones, and that alone made her want to give you babies too instead of merely being her sugar baby as she requested.

“Pull out…” you gasped out, feeling a missing part of you as her softened cock popped out of your empty pussy.

Weakened knees gave away immediately anyway as you dropped down to the floor, looking up at her and her face flushed at the implication of where this was going. The sight of you potentially ruining this gorgeous and expensive dress just to suck her off made her hard all over again.

“I’ll be careful, okay..?” Giselle tried to reassure you, not wanting to leave any evidence of your fucking in a public changing room. Throwing the cum-filled condom into a bin nearby, she made sure the other rubbish covered it before leaning against the wall and biting her lip, staring you down and signaling for you to start.

“Mhm,” you barely hummed, spitting on her cock and pumping it up and down having her teeth mumbling to her bottom lip to stifle her impending moans and whimpers.

Your wet, swollen lips from the earlier messy make-out session cupped her leaking cockhead, sucking lightly and your cheeks hallowed out.

Twirling your tongue around the tip like a sweet lollipop, tasting the subtle salty flavor of the pre-cum, you opened your mouth further and bobbed your head up and down urgently stroking the parts of the dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Mm… good girl,” Giselle gritted out, “suck mommy like that, yeah? Oh, just like that…” her legs shook from the overwhelming sensation itself of your warm, welcoming mouth embracing her cock.

Occasionally, you did gag when her dick hit a little too deep and Giselle’s hand reached down to nestle the back of your hair softly to control the rhythm of your sucking so it wouldn’t be painful for you to take her length that could be a bit too big for you.

“Mommy’s so proud of you… you’ve been such a good girl for mommy, haven’t you? Ah… suck like that and mommy will buy you the whole fucking mall…” she rambled on mindlessly but in the back of her barely-functioning brain knew there was a ninety percent chance that she would act upon her words later on.

In pure bliss, her eyes closed contentedly and covered her own mouth to muffle her moans when she felt the orgasm rushing to her dick.

Before she knew it, her cum painted all over in your mouth and you swallowed it all obediently. That fact alone was going to make her cry out of happiness.

Then, you released her now completely soft cock out of your mouth and coughed slightly on your breath. “Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, stumbling to your feet with the help of the other woman as her other free hand tucked herself back in and fixed her jeans.

“I’m so proud of you baby,” she wiped your wet lips dry, and let you get out of the dress by yourself to your old clothes.

Gingerly, she rubbed the back of her neck. “Hopefully nobody noticed that outside.”

Humiliated at the thought, you choked again and she rubbed your back instinctively to calm you down. “Oh God.” Peeking through the curtains, nobody was around in the store anymore and only some staff lurked at the entrance of the store oblivious to what just occurred.

“Hopefully not.” Giselle nodded grimly along, not wanting to seem too suspicious, she got out and put your dress away before exiting.

And when you stumbled out a few minutes later after composing yourself, she smiled innocently at you and held the many bags for you as if roughly about ten minutes ago didn’t fuck the shit out of you.

“Come on, baby, I’ll order that dress for you when I’m home.” Linking arms with you anyway, Giselle’s eyes crinkled at the fantasies fogging her brain up at how there was a chance with you that now… you could be her sugar baby.

Giselle was going to explode.

#aespa #kpop x female reader #wlw #girlgroup #lesbian #aespa x fem reader #giselle x fem reader #giselle #aespa giselle #g!p giselle #g!p aespa #sugar mommy #idekkkjja

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tobiosbbyghorl · 3 months ago

Note

I wanna suggest for hyper & chill…a scenario wherein Y/n accidentally walked in on him..wonder what his and her reaction would be lol

Hyper&Chill | psh

act 16: caught on act

You hadn’t heard from Sunghoon all day. No replies, no seen, nothing.

At first, you brushed it off—he was probably just busy. But as the hours dragged on, worry started to creep in. What if he was sick again? What if he got into an accident?

So, like the concerned (and maybe slightly dramatic) girlfriend you were, you decided to go check on him.

—

Using the spare key he gave you months ago, you quietly let yourself into his apartment.

The place was dimly lit, eerily quiet. His shoes were at the door, his jacket thrown over the couch. He was home.

“Sunghoon?” you called out softly, setting your bag down.

No response.

Maybe he was asleep? You tiptoed toward his bedroom, planning to just peek in and make sure he was okay. But the moment you pushed the door open—

Oh.

There he was.

Shirtless. Covers pushed down. Hand in places you shouldn’t be seeing. yet.

His eyes were shut, brows furrowed, lips parted as he let out a quiet, frustrated sigh.

And then—

The door creaked.

His eyes snapped open.

You both froze.

A long, painful, and deeply humiliating silence followed.

You slowly backed up, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide. “I—uh—”

Sunghoon sprang up, grabbing the nearest pillow to cover himself, his ears going completely red.

“WHY—WHY ARE YOU HERE?!”

“YOU DIDN’T REPLY TO MY TEXTS—”

“I WAS BUSY—”

“CLEARLY.”

You both stared at each other, horrified.

Another beat of silence.

Then, unable to handle it, you burst into laughter.

Sunghoon groaned, throwing himself back against the bed and covering his face. “I’m never recovering from this.”

Still wheezing, you turned around and shut the door. “I’ll, uh… give you a minute.”

“More than a minute,” he grumbled.

“Got it.”

As you walked to the living room, still trying to process what just happened, one thought crossed your mind:

At least he wasn’t dead.

You sat on the couch, face burning, biting your lip to keep from laughing again. You had just walked in on your boyfriend—your super chill, unbothered, nonchalant boyfriend—in possibly the most un-chill state imaginable.

And the best part? He was embarrassed. Park Sunghoon. Embarrassed.

A minute later, his bedroom door creaked open.

You turned your head just as he shuffled out, now fully dressed, hoodie pulled over his head so far that only the bottom half of his face was visible. He wasn’t making eye contact.

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold it in.

Sunghoon exhaled sharply. “Don’t.”

You lost it. Cackling, you threw yourself onto the couch, clutching your stomach.

His jaw clenched, cheeks still tinted pink. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” you gasped, wiping at your eyes. “You love me.”

“Not right now.”

That only made you laugh harder.

Sunghoon collapsed onto the couch beside you, arms crossed, legs stretched out, exuding the most aggressive ‘I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it’ energy ever.

You nudged him. “Soooo…”

He turned his head away. “Don’t.”

You grinned. “I mean, you really weren’t answering my texts. How was I supposed to know you were—”

“Don’t.”

You leaned closer, smirking. “And you were really going through it, huh? All frustrated and—”

He threw a pillow at you.

You dodged, laughing harder.

Sunghoon exhaled, slumping back against the couch. “I should’ve just died right there.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder. “For what it’s worth…” You turned to him, lowering your voice dramatically. “You looked good.”

His body tensed.

You smirked. “Like, really—”

He clamped a hand over your mouth.

You squealed against his palm, eyes dancing with mischief.

Sunghoon sighed, finally looking at you, his usual composure barely hanging on. “If you ever bring this up again, I’m breaking up with you.”

You blinked innocently. “You’d never.”

His silence confirmed it.

You beamed, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered, Lolove.”

Sunghoon groaned, hiding his face in his hoodie. “I’m never recovering from this.”

You just laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw.

Best Day Ever.

taglist: @iboughtnjz @rikidaze @pocketzlocket @jaerisdiction @ijustwannareadstuff20 @doririsstuff @whateveridontcarsheesh @rikifever @jayhoonvroom

a/n: if you thought sunghoon would be smug about it then your wrong HAHAHAHA he shy🤭 and this occurred much more earlier in their relationship hehe~

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soubeomies · 7 days ago

Text

꒰୨୧◞ ₊˚ 𝓘 𝗄𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐.

⤷ 𝓟𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ﹕ taesan x fem!reader

⤷ 𝓦𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ﹕none! this is all totally fluff :)

⤷ 𝓖𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ﹕fluff

⤷ 𝓦𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝓒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ﹕600

⤷ 𝓐𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝓝𝗈𝗍𝖾 ﹕i've had the worst feeling writers block omgg... i hope im back!! this is kinda bad?? i cant really tell LOL enjoy!

⤷ 𝓢𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ﹕taesan, who knows just when you're in need of some new flowers when the previous ones are wilted.

picking out the perfect flowers for you, not because it was a specific occasion.. it was only because he simply wanted to. he walks down the street while he just observes the bouquet, wondering if you'd like them the way he expected you to.

much to his pleasure, you were over the moon when he handed you the bouquet. “taesan-ah, you didnt have to!” you say as you breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers, accompanied with a satisfied hum. he just smiles, “but i did, i hope you like them.”

you did notice though that there was an awkward empty spot in the bouquet, though you brushed it off. “you’re probably just over observing things.” you thought to yourself. placing the flowers in a vase, smiling gently at the sight.

⋆˚࿔

taesan smiles to himself as he walks into the dorm, a singular flower in hand. yeah, he kept one flower from the bouquet to know when to get you new ones once these ones had wilted. he gently placed it in a vase whilst smiling to himself.

a few days later, taesan was walking out of the shower. ruffling his wet, red hair with a towel to dry it. “taesan hyung!” woonhak calls out. his head peeked from a corridor of the dorm, curious as to what woonhak was talking about. “what?” he replies. “the flower you brought! its dying!” he claims.

taesan walks over to the vase, seeing a few of the petals had fallen onto the table he set them on. “ah.. i need to get her new ones.” he murmurs to himself. woonhak looks confused, “what do you mean new ones? why did you just have one pathetic flower anyways..” woonhak’s voice was filled with curiosity as to why his dear hyung kept a singular flower.

“i picked one out from y/n’s bouquet, so when this one dies i know hers does too.” taesan said calmly as he grabbed the flower to discard it. woonhak processes his words for a few moments, “OOOHHH!! I GET IT!” woonhak pauses, clearing his throat. “.. so you're gonna get her new ones now, right?” he questions.

taesan replies with a silent nod. the silence gave everything woonhak needed to know, “alright then hyung! good luck with that!” he says as he goes downstairs, humming a random melody to himself.

⋆˚࿔

taesan finds himself in the florist shop yet again. he browses through the various different types of flowers as he picks some out and pays. walking out of the shop, the door closing behind him with the faint sounds of the bells attached to the door. he walks down the street, making his way to your apartment.

lounging on your couch, engrossed in a new k-drama series you’ve been binge watching. an interesting moment unraveling, only for it to be interrupted with the soft knocks on your door. you basically groan as you pause the series, walking to the door. you twist the doorknob, ready to tell off whoever was disturbing your k-drama marathon– “taesan?”

all the frustration melted away when your eyes met his. your gaze then wandered and landed on the bouquet of flowers he was holding. you look behind, back into your apartment, realizing that the flowers he had gotten last time had died and wilted. you then looked back at him, a little puzzled.

“woah! you– you knew just when the other flowers died?” you say in awe. he smiles at your reaction, it was then when he realized that it was all worth it if he got to see that spark in your eyes.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ networks : @kstrucknet @k-nets

#soubeomies #( ⋆˚✿˖° ) kstruckfics #kpop #fanfic #kpop fanfic #boynextdoor #bnd #bnd x reader #taesan fluff #taesan #taesan boynextdoor #taesan x reader #han taesan #han dongmin #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagines #bonedo #taesan x you

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ankababy · 3 months ago

Text

A Home (part 15)

Part 1 Part 14 Part 16

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

Can someone take that fucking gun from Niragi already?

A few days had passed.

A few days since you had looked Chishiya in the eyes and told him the truth. Since you had asked all the right questions, since you had seen through him with that frustrating, impossible clarity. A few days since you had sat close to him, warm and kind, your voice steady and soft, telling him things he had never let himself believe before. A few days since you had held his hand, kissed the side of his head, and made him feel like a person instead of an observer.

And now, he stood in the entrance of the hallway, watching.

The kitchen was across the living room, and he could see you perfectly from where he stood. You were talking to Niragi, that absolute monster, fussing over him, laughing at something he said, all care and warmth despite everything.

Niragi was better now. The fever had passed, the wound had closed, and he was his usual unbearable self again—arrogant, loud, biting. But Chishiya could still see it—the way Niragi leaned in, just slightly, when you touched him. The way his sharp words softened around the edges when they were directed at you. The way he let you get away with things nobody else could.

You had that effect on people.

“Really, you need to be more careful.” you were saying, your voice teasing but sincere as your hands brushed against Niragi’s shoulder. “It would be a shame if you died, you know. Those great collarbones of yours would go to waste.”

Niragi pulled his mouth, tilting his head back. “Oh? You like them that much?”

“I like you alive that much.” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “But yes, they’re nice. It’s all very aesthetically pleasing. So try not to get yourself shot again, alright?”

Niragi scoffed, but there was something almost pleased in his expression. “No promises.”

You huffed. “You’re impossible.”

And Chishiya? Chishiya just stood there, watching.

Thinking.

You had a way of making people feel like the best versions of themselves, even when they were at their worst. You had done it to him that night—shown him something he didn’t even know he had been waiting to hear. And now here you were, doing the same thing to Niragi, effortlessly drawing something human out of someone who had spent his entire life trying to prove he wasn’t.

Chishiya didn’t know how to process big feelings.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he studied the situation like he always did. Detached. Observant. Cold.

But the conclusion was the same.

You were perfect.

Not in the way that meant you were flawless. No, you were messy, complicated, frustratingly real. You got overwhelmed. You panicked. You carried the weight of things that nobody else would carry.

And yet, you chose to be this way.

You chose to care.

And Chishiya didn’t know what to do with that.

Because he had never met someone who could look at people like Niragi—people like him—and still find something worth holding onto.

And worse, he had never met someone who made him want to be worth holding onto.

Niragi had been more distant lately.

Not physically—no, he was still around, still in the same spaces as you, still close enough to reach. But his words had sharpened, his temper shorter, his moods unpredictable. He wanted to push you away, but at the same time, he wanted you more than anything. You were the only warmth he had ever known, and yet, he was convinced he shouldn’t have it.

You had noticed, of course. You noticed everything.

And you never let it stop you.

You stood by the kitchen counter, slicing something for breakfast, while Niragi sat at the table, lazily drumming his fingers against the wood.

“You should eat something.” you said, your voice gentle as you glanced back at Niragi. “You barely touched your food yesterday.”

Niragi scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “What, are you my mother now?”

You let out a breath, setting the knife down. “That’s not what I—”

“You gonna start spoon-feeding me next?” Niragi interrupted, voice full of mockery. “Tuck me in? Read me a bedtime story? Jesus, you’re so fucking clingy.”

You didn’t even flinch. “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.” you said, the same patience in your voice as always. “But I’m making something anyway, so if you change your mind, just let me know.”

Niragi’s jaw tightened. He hated that. Hated that you never snapped back at him, never gave him an excuse to fight. Hated that you stayed, no matter how cruel he was.

“Why the fuck do you do that?” he muttered.

You blinked, tilting your head. “Do what?”

“That.” He gestured at you. “Act like—like none of this bothers you. Like I don’t bother you.” Because he bothered everyone, didn’t he?

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Because you don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit.” you said simply. “I care about you. That’s not going to change just because you’re trying to piss me off.”

Something flickered across his face, something almost pained, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah?” he said, voice mocking. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

Chishiya exhaled slowly through his nose, tapping his fingers against the wall.

He had been watching this play out for days now. Watching Niragi push, waiting for you to push back—but you never did. And that was what unsettled Niragi the most, wasn’t it? That no matter how much venom he spit, you never gave him the reaction he was looking for.

You never gave up on him.

Chishiya could see it all. The way Niragi was unraveling, the way he was testing you, waiting for you to leave—because that’s what people did, wasn’t it? People didn’t stay. People didn’t care, not really.

And yet, you were still here.

Chishiya knew what Niragi was doing because he had done it himself, in his own way. There was nothing more terrifying than being loved when you didn’t think you deserved it. When you had spent your whole life assuming you couldn’t be loved.

Niragi was waiting for you to prove him right.

Chishiya had been waiting for you to prove him right, too.

And neither of them had been able to break you.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Because you didn’t love them because they had done something to deserve it. You didn’t love them because they had changed, or because they had earned it. You just did.

And that was worse than any cruelty they had ever known.

Because it meant they could lose it.

And neither of them knew how to handle that.

Niragi was stretched out on the couch, looking far too comfortable. His arm was lazily draped over the back of the couch, his other hand resting against his stomach, fingers tapping idly. You were right next to him, legs tucked up beneath you, practically pressed into his side.

Your hands were on his face, gently cradling his jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. You were talking—just rambling, really—about something you had seen earlier. A cat, small and scrappy, lurking near the alleyway when you had gone out for a walk.

“It had the biggest eyes.” you said, smiling as you tilted Niragi’s face slightly, inspecting a small scratch near his jawline. “And the fluffiest little tail. It was so cute, but it wouldn’t let me get close. Just ran off the second I tried.”

“Smart cat.” Niragi muttered, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

You hummed. “I wanted to bring it food. Maybe I’ll go back tomorrow and try again.”

Niragi huffed out a breath. “Dumb. Stray cats don’t trust people. They know better.”

You just smiled, tilting your head. “Yeah? So what does that make you, then?”

Niragi blinked, his lips parting slightly before he scoffed, turning his head away from you. But he didn’t pull from your grasp. He let you hold him, let you touch him, let your fingers run along the angles of his face.

His moods were unpredictable—whiplash inducing, really. He could go from pushing you away, all teeth and venom, to melting under your hands in the blink of an eye. And right now, he was leaning into it.

“Maybe the cat just thought you were annoying.” he muttered, tilting his head further into your touch even as he insulted you. “Maybe it ran off because it didn’t want to hear you talk its fucking ear off.”

You just laughed, unfazed as always. “Maybe. But I’ll try again anyway.”

“Yeah?” Niragi smirked, something playful in his gaze. “You really think you can win over some half-dead street rat just by being nice?”

You smiled at him, all warmth and patience.

“Hasn’t failed me yet.” you said softly, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

He let out a breath, leaning further into your hands, letting himself enjoy it. Letting himself be touched—not out of violence, not out of necessity, but simply because you wanted to.

And fuck, he wanted it, too.

But he wouldn’t say that.

Wouldn’t admit to the way he felt lighter when you touched him, when you talked to him like he wasn’t just some monster, when you looked at him like he was worth something.

“You’re such a dumbass.” he muttered, voice low, but he let you hold him. He let you stay.

Niragi knew exactly what he was doing.

He had always known.

He wasn’t stupid—no, he never had been. He knew how people worked, knew how they looked at him, knew how they judged him before he even opened his mouth. Back then, when he was nothing but a nerdy fuck, a punching bag, an easy target, he learned fast. People were cruel. People took what they wanted and left nothing behind. People used others, squeezed them dry, then tossed them aside.

Now he was the one in control.

He was hot, and he knew it.

And you—fuck, you loved him.

You were all over him, touching him without hesitation, holding his face in your soft little hands like he wasn’t some bloodstained mess of a person. You looked at him with so much warmth, so much adoration.

It was almost funny.

Because if you had met him before, before all this—before he had carved himself into something unrecognizable—you wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

Back then, he was nothing.

But now, he could have anything he wanted.

Including you.

And oh, he knew he could use this. Could use you.

You were soft. You were kind. You cared about him like no one else ever had.

And Niragi knew exactly how to take advantage of that.

He let you hold him, let you cradle his jaw, let your fingers skim along his face with so much tenderness it almost made him sick. But he didn’t pull away. No, he leaned into it. He smirked at you, eyelids low, voice smooth as he let himself sink into your touch.

Because he knew he had you wrapped around his fucking finger.

“You should be careful, Y/N.” he murmured, voice dripping with something slow and honeyed. “You’re getting a little obsessed with me.”

You just laughed, still so fucking sweet. “I just like taking care of you, Niragi.”

He wondered—just how far could he push this? How much could he take from you before you realized he was only holding onto you because you were something warm in his cold, dead hands?

How much could he make you love him before you saw him for what he really was?

And when that happened…

Would you still stay?

But there was something, though.

Something small, something he didn’t want to name. Something that curled up in the back of his mind like an unwelcome guest and whispered to him in the quiet moments, when you weren’t talking, when you weren’t touching him, when you weren’t right there.

He ignored it. He always ignored it.

Because Niragi knew what he was doing.

He let you touch him, let you baby him, let you love him, because why wouldn’t he? He deserved this. After everything—after years of getting spat on, after years of taking punch after punch, after years of being no one, nothing—he deserved to take whatever the hell he wanted.

You gave so freely. You never asked for anything in return. You just gave.

So why shouldn’t he take?

Why shouldn’t he sink into your touch, let himself melt under your hands, let himself need your attention?

Need?

Niragi’s jaw tensed. His fingers twitched against his knee. Something in his chest felt wrong.

He didn’t need shit.

He didn’t need anyone.

And yet, when you pulled your hands away, when you shifted slightly on the couch, when you turned your head for even a second—his muscles tensed.

He almost grabbed your wrist.

Almost.

Instead, he tilted his head. “What, getting bored already?”

You blinked at him, all soft eyes and warmth, as if you didn’t even realize what you were doing to him. “Of course not.”

Then why did he feel like something was missing the second you weren’t touching him?

Niragi pushed the thought away, leaned back on the couch, let his body go loose and lazy. “Good.” he muttered. “You’re the one who won’t leave me alone, after all.”

He expected you to scold him, to sigh at him, to roll your eyes and call him a brat. Instead, you just smiled. Like you saw through him. Like you knew.

His throat went dry.

No.

You didn’t know shit.

You were just some stupid, soft-hearted idiot who didn’t realize that one day, he was going to take too much from you. And if you ever did realize—if you ever really saw him—he already knew what you would do.

You’d leave.

Just like everyone else.

So Niragi did what he always did.

He got meaner.

“You should really get a hobby, Y/N.” he sneered. “I know I’m hot, but you’re starting to look desperate.”

And still, still, still—you didn’t pull away. You just laughed. And Niragi hated it. Hated that laugh, hated that look, hated the way his fingers twitched again with the urge to grab you.

Because maybe, just maybe—there was something there.

Chishiya had no interest in getting involved, but watching you two was becoming a reliable source of entertainment.

So, when he walked into the massive living room—hands in his pockets, posture loose, looking like he had nowhere better to be—he only raised a brow at the scene in front of him.

You, perched right next to Niragi, looking at him like he was the only person in the world. And Niragi, sprawled out like a king on his throne.

Pathetic.

Not you—him.

Chishiya could see it. Niragi was obvious as hell. He was drinking it in, every drop of attention you gave him, even as he insulted you, even as he pushed at your warmth with mean words.

Typical.

But you—you were something else.

“Chishiya.” you said, eyes lighting up the second you saw him. You were beaming at him before he even said a word. “Hi.”

He didn’t react, but something in his chest did. The way you said his name—so full of warmth, so genuine—it was still something he hadn’t quite figured out how to process.

“You two are getting along well.” he remarked, gaze flicking toward Niragi. “Almost heartwarming.”

“Fuck off.” Niragi sneered immediately. “What the fuck do you want?”

Chishiya smirked. “Just seeing what all the noise was about.”

“And getting entertainment from us?” you added knowingly, teasing.

“Maybe.”

You laughed softly—but you didn’t stop looking at him. And it was the way you looked at him that got to him. Like you wanted him there. Like his presence was something good.

Chishiya wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t used to being wanted without some kind of motive behind it. But with you, he could never quite figure out the angle.

Because you—god, you were so fucking sweet.

“You should sit with us.” you said, scooting just slightly, patting the empty space next to you.

Chishiya glanced at Niragi, waiting for him to snap, but Niragi only scoffed and muttered, “Fuckin’ great.”

For once, he didn’t argue.

Chishiya tilted his head, considering.

Interesting.

Without another word, he moved toward the couch, lowering himself into the spot next to you. You barely even let him get comfortable before you turned fully toward him, all soft-eyed and full of warmth, just like you always were.

And Niragi hated it.

“Jesus Christ.” Niragi grumbled, rolling his eyes. “If you keep looking at him like that, I might actually throw up.”

Chishiya smirked. “Jealous?”

“Jealous of what?” Niragi snapped, but there was something tight in his voice, something just under the surface.

You, of course, didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you didn’t react to it.

“Be nice.” you scolded, voice soft.

“Yeah, Niragi.” Chishiya echoed, still smirking. “Be nice.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

But you were already moving, your attention shifting back to Niragi without hesitation. You were ridiculous. Impossible. Every time Niragi was just about to push too far, you pulled him back in with your warmth, your patience, your fucking kindness.

Chishiya didn’t understand it.

You should’ve hated Niragi. You should’ve hated him.

But you didn’t.

And that—that was fascinating.

“What were you two talking about before I got here?” Chishiya asked casually, already knowing Niragi would snap again, already knowing it would be funny.

“Nothing you need to know about.” Niragi muttered.

“Just something I saw outside.” you answered at the same time.

Niragi glared.

“Something you saw outside?” Chishiya prompted.

“Yeah.” you said, your voice full of that softness again, that ever-present warmth. “I saw this little orange cat in the street yesterday. It was so cute, Chishiya, I swear, I wanted to bring it home.”

Niragi let out an exaggerated groan. “For fuck’s sake, here we go again.”

You huffed, giving him a playful shove. “Like you weren’t just letting me talk about it.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it.”

“You listened to me.” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“You had your hands all over me. It was a distraction.”

Chishiya watched. It was like watching a cat toy with a mouse—except neither of you seemed to know who was the cat and who was the mouse.

Chishiya liked to watch you.

Not just because you were beautiful—though you were. Not just because you were fascinating—though you were that too.

It was because there was something about you that he couldn’t figure out. And Chishiya prided himself on always figuring people out. You, though? You had a way of slipping through his careful observations, of twisting logic into something lost, of making him feel something in his chest he couldn’t quite name.

You were perfect. And you looked perfect, sitting there between him and Niragi, smiling like the angel you were.

But the way you looked at them—god—it was unbearable.

You looked at them like they mattered. Like they weren’t just violent, selfish, cruel things forged in blood and destruction. Like they weren’t built from bitterness and loneliness and pain.

“You know,” you started, voice soft but clear. “you two are my favorite people.”

Chishiya didn’t react. Niragi scoffed, moving his head, poking his tongue around in his mouth, rolling his eyes—but he was listening. He was always listening to you, even when he pretended not to.

“You say that like you know anyone else.” Niragi muttered.

You just smiled. “I’d still say it even if I did.”

Neither of them spoke.

You looked between them, your expression so open, so genuine. “It’s not just because we’re stuck together. It’s not just because we’re surviving together. If I had known a hundred other people before this, I still would’ve liked you both the most.”

Chishiya watched you carefully. He had spent his whole life understanding actions, not hearts. But your actions never made sense to him, because your heart was different from anyone else he had ever met.

“And it’s not because I think you’re better than you are.” you continued, gaze flicking between the two of them. “I know who you are. I don’t look at you and pretend you’re not violent, or dangerous, or capable of horrible things.”

Niragi didn’t say anything. He was watching you too, quiet.

“I just don’t think that’s all you are.” you added, voice softer now, but firm. “And even if that’s all you think you are, I don’t have to agree with you.”

It was infuriating. Not because you were wrong—god, Chishiya wished you were wrong—but because you were saying things that neither of them knew how to process.

Because no one had ever looked at them like this before.

No one had ever wanted them like this before.

You sighed, tilting your head, giving them a look like you knew they weren’t believing you, and that frustrated you just a little.

“I like you.” you said simply, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “Not because I think you’re secretly good or because I have some delusional hope that you’ll change. I like you because you’re you.”

It was too much.

Niragi ran a tongue over his teeth, looking away, shifting like he was uncomfortable.

Chishiya didn’t move.

It would’ve been easier if you were stupid.

If you had underestimated them. If you had ignored all the blood on their hands and convinced yourself they were something else.

But no.

You knew. And you chose them anyway.

And Chishiya—he had spent his whole life knowing what people wanted. Money, status, power. Control. Safety.

But you—what the fuck did you want?

What did you see when you looked at them?

“You’re ridiculous.” Niragi muttered, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

“You both are.” you teased, giving them that look again. The one that made them feel like they were the crazy ones, not you.

Maybe they were.

Maybe you had made them crazy.

But Chishiya didn’t mind watching you. He didn’t mind feeling this—whatever this was. Because the way you smiled at them—like they mattered—was something he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let go of.

“Anyways, I swear, I see the same little orange cat every time I go out.” you said, your voice light and thoughtful. “Or maybe there’s just a lot of orange cats around. I don’t know. But this one had little white paws, and it was so cute. It was sitting on top of some car.”

Chishiya gave a slow blink, unimpressed. Niragi scoffed. The speed you changed the topics was impressive, to be honest.

“You should’ve caught it.” Niragi muttered. “Could’ve eaten it.”

You gasped, shoving at his arm without thinking. “Niragi!”

Your leg brushed against Chishiya’s, shifting absentmindedly as you kept talking, your energy restless, your presence so immediate it was impossible to ignore. You couldn’t stay still. Even as you talked, you moved, shifting your legs, fidgeting, your knee knocking against Niragi’s before leaning into Chishiya’s.

And neither of them moved away.

Niragi, as much as he liked to act like a heartless bastard, let your fingers graze over his wrist as you gestured. Let your leg stay against his like it was nothing.

And Chishiya—who usually didn’t like being touched at all—let you do the same to him.

He didn’t know why.

But it was just you.

You didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess, didn’t seem to care that they weren’t nice, weren’t safe, weren’t the kind of men that were used to this kind of thing.

Maybe that was why you did it.

Maybe you knew.

Maybe you knew that no one had ever touched Niragi just to touch him.

That no one had ever leaned against Chishiya like they belonged there.

That neither of them had ever been given anything without some kind of expectation in return.

Maybe you knew that, and maybe you didn’t.

But either way, you kept touching them.

And they liked it.

Fuck.

“That damn place is probably on fire without us.” Niragi muttered. His arm stretched over the couch, loose and relaxed, and it just happened to rest behind you. “They probably lost their fucking minds when we disappeared.”

Uhuh, yeah, they did not give a fuck about your little cat.

Chishiya gave him a glance, unimpressed. “You think they care that much?”

Niragi grinned.

You glanced between them, your expression curious. “The beach?”

Niragi’s hand slipped onto your thigh.

It wasn’t sleazy.

It was sweet.

A slow drag of his fingers, the weight of his palm resting warm and solid against you, the casualness of it making it feel natural.

You didn’t even react. That was the thing about you. You never reacted to him in a way that made him think you didn’t want it.

And you liked to be touched.

So he did it.

He knew what he was doing. Chishiya knew it, too. And he was letting him do it.

“Well, it’s a kingdom, isn’t it?” Niragi continued, his voice smooth, his fingers tracing patterns into your skin. “And we were the top dogs. If we’re not there, it’s bound to fall apart eventually.”

You were curious. That much was obvious. “The top?” you repeated, glancing at him. “You were at the top?”

Niragi poked at his cheek with his tongue. “Course we were.”

“More like the dogs guarding the throne.” Chishiya said.

Niragi shot him a sharp look, but you laughed, the sound light and full of warmth, and that was enough to make Niragi let it go.

His fingers squeezed your thigh slightly.

“What’s it really like?” you murmured.

Chishiya watched as Niragi gave you a look. It was the kind of look Niragi always had when he was enjoying something. When he was toying with something.

But this time, it wasn’t cruelty.

It was you.

“I think you’d like it.” Niragi murmured, his voice taking on something sweeter.

You blinked at him, and he only smiled.

“People do what they want there.” Chishiya took over. “It’s easy to get by. There’s food, shelter. No real responsibilities. As long as you follow the rules, there’s no reason to worry.”

You were listening.

Niragi’s fingers slid up your thigh just slightly.

It was gentle.

Not pushing.

Not forcing.

Just reminding.

“You should come with us.” he murmured.

You exhaled a small laugh. “Why?”

“You wouldn’t have to keep running around out here like a little rat.” Niragi said, and though his words were harsh, his tone was soft. “You’d be with us.”

That part was important.

With them.

Chishiya watched as you considered it.

You still thought it was a joke. That’s why they had to be careful. If you realized it was happening, you’d resist. But if they kept nudging—kept pressing, kept pulling—then eventually, you’d come to the conclusion yourself. And that was how you won someone over completely.

Chishiya should know.

That was how they had gotten through you.

Niragi could feel the hesitation the moment it settled in you. It was the way your fingers lightly traced the hem of your sleeve, the way your eyes darted toward the fairy lights you’d so carefully placed around the room. The way your brows knit together, just slightly, before you even realized what you were doing.

Doubt.

Niragi had been called a lot of things in his life. Ruthless, sadistic, cruel. All of it was true.

But he was not stupid.

And he knew people.

He knew you.

So he softened. Leaning in just slightly, his fingers traced light, lazy shapes over your thigh, and his voice dropped into something low and coaxing.

“Oh, come on.” he murmured, and there was something softer in his tone now. Something fond. “I know you’re not actually considering staying here.”

Your lips pressed together, your eyes flicking over the dim, warm glow of the living room.

“I just…” You exhaled, fingers tapping against your leg as you thought. “I like it here.”

He had expected that. Niragi let out a small hum, his fingers pressing slightly against you before rubbing slow, soothing circles against the fabric of your pants.

He smiled.

“Yeah, yeah.” he murmured. “The lights, the couch, the little homey feel.”

You gave him a look.

“You’re not really attached to this place, though.” Chishiya said, his tone even. “You’re attached to the idea of it.”

Your lips parted slightly, brow furrowing.

“You like making things safe.” he said simply, watching you closely. “You like making things yours. But that doesn’t mean this is where you should stay.”

Niragi could see it. The way the words landed.

You were listening. Thinking.

“Baby.” Niragi murmured, and his voice was so sweet it could rot your teeth. “You don’t actually think this place is gonna last forever, do you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” you muttered.

But Niragi knew. He knew exactly what that meant. So he just smiled, letting his fingers trail slightly higher, dragging along the side of your hip before resting his palm there instead.

“It’s cute.” he murmured, his tone lilting, teasing, warm. “The way you try to hold onto shit.”

You frowned, eyes flicking toward Chishiya. “Is he part of the argument, or is this just him being an asshole?”

Chishiya shrugged. “Both.”

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes, but Niragi laughed. And then he leaned in.

“Hey.” he said, his voice low, sweet. “Come with us.”

Your breath hitched slightly. And Niragi saw it. So he pressed further.

“I like having you around.” he admitted, his tone softer than usual. More genuine. “And he likes having you around.” His hand on your hip squeezed slightly. “You’re fun.”

You blinked. “That’s your argument? I’m fun?”

“Fun.” Niragi repeated, dragging the word out. “Hot. And cute.”

Your cheeks warmed.

And Niragi knew it.

Chishiya let out a soft sigh. “The point is,” he said, speaking more plainly. “you don’t actually belong here.”

Your eyes snapped toward him. “And I belong at the Beach?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “Yes.”

Your frown deepened, and he continued.

“You don’t belong alone.” he clarified. “And if you go with us, you won’t be.”

Niragi could see it.

That last part had done it.

It wasn’t a reaction, wasn’t a visible thing.

But Niragi knew.

Your fingers tapped lightly against the fabric of your pants. Your weight shifted just slightly toward him. Your teeth caught your lip, just barely. A small, barely-there pause.

“…Fuck.” you muttered.

Chishiya sat back, watching you carefully. The way your brows furrowed, your fingers tapped lightly against your knee, your lips parted just slightly before pressing together again. You were thinking.

That night in your room, when you’d spoken to him—really spoken to him—it had been the first time in a long, long time that someone had made him stop.

Had made him listen.

You had asked him the right questions, and he hated that. Hated how right you had been. Because you were right. About everything. And he knew it.

That night had stayed with him.

He had replayed the words over in his mind, over and over, that annoying, perfect voice of yours sticking to the insides of his skull.

It wasn’t just that you understood him.

It was that you hadn’t judged him for it.

And now, sitting here, watching you carefully as you hesitated, as you chewed your lip in thought, as you felt more deeply than he ever could, he felt that same strange feeling settle into his bones.

You were soft words and warm hands, caring too much for people who didn’t deserve it.

Who would never deserve it.

He exhaled slowly, shifting just slightly. He had been watching you so closely that he hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring.

At your face, at the curve of your lips as you chewed the inside of your cheek, at the slope of your nose, the soft tilt of your head.

You were pretty.

He glanced away, exhaling slowly, before looking back up.

You were still chewing your lip.

Still thinking.

Still perfect.

But anyway, that’s how you manipulate someone.

Because they had just gotten you to go back with them.

And you hadn’t even realized it. Not really.

“Think about it.” Niragi murmured, tilting his head, eyes soft, voice coaxing. “Us. Back at the Beach. You’d have fun, baby, I promise.”

He never fucking promised things.

His fingers slid further up your thigh, just a little, just enough to suggest—but not enough to push. Not enough to make you pull away.

Because he knew you wouldn’t.

Because you never did.

And Niragi knew how to play a game when he saw one.

“You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.” he continued, leaning in just slightly, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. “I’d take care of you, y’know? Carry your bags, make sure you’re comfortable, maybe even keep you warm at night.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move. Didn’t push him away. Didn’t shut him down completely.

And that was a fucking win.

“You’re so annoying.” you muttered, but it lacked any real bite, and Niragi just grinned. Because he had you thinking. Had you considering.

“You’ve never seen the Beach.” he continued smoothly, fingers still lazily tracing against your thigh. “Never really seen what it’s like. It’s fun, baby, I swear. You’d love it there.”

It wasn’t a lie, not exactly.

But he didn’t need to lie.

He just needed to frame it the right way.

Because Niragi knew how to make people want things. And right now, he was making you want this.

“You said yourself.” he added, voice dropping just slightly, gaze locking onto yours. “We’re your favorite people, yeah?” His thumb brushed against your leg, barely there. “So why not stay with us?”

You exhaled slowly.

Chishiya had been quiet this whole time, watching, analyzing. He watched. But this time, it wasn’t to pick apart someone’s weaknesses. This time, it was to see you. To see what you would do. What you would choose.

He had already known what Niragi was doing. Had seen the moment Niragi made the decision to change tactics.

To be sweet instead of brutal.

To coax instead of taunt.

Because that was how you got people.

You didn’t force them.

You made them want it.

And Chishiya had to admit, Niragi was good.

Because now? Now, you were nodding slowly. Now, you were considering.

Niragi was satisfied. Partly with himself, partly with you.

Because fuck, that was almost too easy.

He had you.

Had you.

And he could see it. Could feel it in the way you weren’t resisting anymore, in the way your hesitation had all but melted away under the heat of his words, under the weight of his touch.

It was like watching prey walk willingly into the jaws of a beast.

And fuck, it was delicious.

So he grinned, sharp and feral, his teeth flashing as he leaned in close, too close, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Fast. Rough. Possessive.

His lips lingered just for a second—just long enough to prove his point—before he pulled away and let his hand slap against your cheek in that careless, almost playful way.

That pat.

The one that wasn’t really a pat.

The one that was more territorial than anything else.

And then he laughed. A low, wild, pleased sound as he flopped back against the couch, stretching his arms over the back of it, looking like a fucking animal who had just devoured his meal and was now basking in the afterglow of the kill.

“Fuck, I love you.” he said, still laughing, like he thrived off this shit.

You gave him a look, unimpressed, but he could see the way you fought a smile.

And that just made him laugh harder.

Because you could pretend all you wanted.

But he knew.

He fucking knew.

“You’re insane.” you muttered, shaking your head, but there was no real heat behind it. You were smiling. You were nice.

He flicked your forehead.

You swatted at him.

He laughed.

Because he won. Because you were his, whether you realized it or not.

And fuck, that was all he needed.

It was late.

You were in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, bare feet swinging just above the floor, fingers loosely curled around a glass of water. The only light came from the dim glow under the cabinets, casting long shadows across the room.

It was quiet. Almost too quiet.

Until the soft sound of footsteps.

And then—Chishiya.

You saw him before he spoke, before he even fully stepped into the kitchen. The way his pale hair caught the light, the way he always moved, like he was completely aware of his presence in a space. He was watching you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Came to check on you.”

Check on you?

You blinked at him, the words sitting strangely in your chest.

Chishiya didn’t do things without reason. Didn’t waste his energy unless there was something to be gained.

But he had nothing to gain from checking on you.

And yet, here he was.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Because I knew you’d still be awake.” It was such a simple statement. But something about it felt heavier than it should have.

You looked down at your glass, running your thumb along the rim. “Yeah, well. Just thinking.”

Chishiya didn’t say anything. Just watched you.

You sighed, lifting the glass to your lips, the cool water grounding you for a second. “You know… sometimes I think I like the quiet. But then I get too much of it, and it makes me feel like I’m being left alone with my own thoughts.”

A beat of silence.

“I get that.” Chishiya said.

You looked at him. And for once, he wasn’t wearing that detached asshole expression. No, there was something there. Something you couldn’t quite place.

He understood.

And that alone made you exhale softly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little.

“Guess that’s why I like having people around.” you admitted, rolling the glass between your palms. “Even if they’re assholes.”

Chishiya let out a quiet hum. “You attract them like a magnet.”

That made you laugh, just a little. “Yeah, yeah. And you’re included in that, by the way.”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of denying it.”

You shook your head, but your voice was softer when you spoke again.

“…But thanks. For checking on me.”

Chishiya didn’t respond right away. Just watched you again, gaze steady, before he finally walked over, stopping a few steps away.

“You’re always taking care of everyone else.” he said, almost idly. “Figured someone should return the favor.”

That made your breath catch, just for a second.

Because it was such a small thing to say. But from him, it felt—

You swallowed, looking down again.

“…That’s sweet.” you said, your voice quieter now.

“Don’t get used to it.”

You smiled. Because you didn’t believe that for a second.

Chishiya leaned against the counter beside you, his side facing you, close enough that you could feel the shift of the air when he moved. His hands slid into the pockets of his hoodie, posture relaxed, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t standing in the dimly lit kitchen with you in the dead of night, checking in on you for reasons he probably wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

You were swinging your feet a little, glass of water still in your hands, eyes soft but thoughtful.

“Still thinking about leaving with us?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

You exhaled, tipping your head back slightly. “Yeah.”

There was something honest about the way you said it. No hesitation, no sugarcoating—just real. And that was what made you so different from everyone else he’d known. There was no calculation to the way you spoke, no agenda behind your words. You weren’t trying to convince him of anything, weren’t trying to manipulate or deceive. You were just you.

That made him want to listen.

Made him want to understand.

“I guess I just—” You sighed, lifting a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “I made this place my home, y’know? I decorated it, made it feel warm. I thought I’d be happy here.”

“And you’re not?”

You hesitated.

He watched you closely.

“…I think I just liked trying to be happy.” you admitted. “Liked pretending I had something stable. That I wasn’t just surviving.”

That struck something in him.

Because he knew that feeling. That need for control. For some kind of certainty in a world where certainty didn’t exist.

It wasn’t about the place.

It was about what the place represented.

And now, you were being asked to leave it.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose. “That’s a nice thought. But you know stability doesn’t last.”

You glanced at him, a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips. “You think I don’t know that?”

He didn’t answer. Because of course you knew. Of course you did. You survived this world. You weren’t naive. And yet, you still carried so much warmth, so much hope, like you chose to believe in something better.

It was infuriating.

And he hated that it made him like you more.

“…Niragi wants you to go.” he said instead, watching for your reaction.

You snorted. “Yeah, I got that.”

“And you’ll say yes.” he said, almost like a statement.

You bit your lip, tapping your nails lightly against your glass. “Maybe.”

Chishiya tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Because you want to? Or because he wants you to?”

You paused.

That was a good question.

And you weren’t sure of the answer.

“…Both.” you admitted eventually. “I want to go. I do. But I also think I’m just bad at saying no to people I care about.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just continued to watch you, his expression the usual. You sighed, tilting your head slightly toward him, voice softer now.

“You want me to go?”

Chishiya blinked.

And for a moment, he didn’t answer.

Not because he didn’t know.

But because he did.

“…I don’t care.” he said smoothly. “Do what you want.”

You huffed a small breath. “Right. Sure.”

You didn’t believe him.

You shifted, drawing your legs up onto the counter, crossing them under you as you got comfortable. Then, without much thought, you leaned in, resting your cheek on Chishiya’s shoulder.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t stiffen, didn’t pull away.

He just let you.

It was such a simple action, something so small, but it felt big in a way neither of you acknowledged. Because Chishiya wasn’t used to being touched like this—so casually, so gently. No ulterior motives, no expectation behind it. Just you, finding comfort in him, like it was normal.

Like he was safe.

“You’re not stopping me.” you pointed out, your voice soft, teasing.

“I don’t care enough to stop you.”

You huffed a quiet breath. “You say that about a lot of things.”

“Because it’s true.”

“…Is it?”

Chishiya didn’t answer.

Because he knew you knew.

He felt the way your cheek shifted slightly against his shoulder as you smiled. And for some reason, that made something coil in his stomach, something unfamiliar, something he didn’t want to name.

“You still haven’t answered me.” you murmured.

“About what?”

“Do you want me to go?”

Chishiya exhaled through his nose. “I told you, I don’t care.”

“You care about some things.” you said, voice light. “You cared enough to come check on me, didn’t you?”

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t confirm or deny. Because you were right.

“…You really think Niragi’s gonna let you say no?” he said instead.

You let out a small breath. “No. But it’s cute when he thinks I have a choice.”

Chishiya huffed quietly, shaking his head slightly. You were ridiculous. But he didn’t argue. Because he knew Niragi wouldn’t let you go. And that was the problem.

Not because he was worried about you. Not because he thought you couldn’t handle it. But because Niragi was Niragi. He needed. He took. And Chishiya knew that once he had his teeth in something, he wasn’t letting go.

Now that “something” was you.

You, with all your warmth, all your softness, all the kindness that neither of them deserved.

“…You really want to go?” Chishiya asked after a moment.

You sighed, fingers absently running along the rim of your glass. “I don’t know.”

Chishiya turned his head slightly, just enough that he could see your face, your expression thoughtful, conflicted. You meant it. You really didn’t know.

“…Does it matter if I want you to go?” he asked eventually.

You turned your head, cheek still against his shoulder, looking up at him now.

“Yes.” you said simply. “It does.”

And Chishiya felt his stomach twist.

Because fuck you.

Fuck you for being so sincere. For looking at him like his opinion actually mattered, like he actually mattered. Because he wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t used to you.

“…You should sleep.” he said eventually, looking away.

You hummed, closing your eyes briefly against his shoulder. “Yeah. Probably.”

Neither of you moved.

You lifted your head slightly, your cheek dragging against the fabric of his hoodie as you turned to look at him over his shoulder. He felt it before he saw it—your movement, your warmth, the way your breath ghosted against his skin.

Chishiya tilted his head, just slightly, just enough for his gaze to meet yours.

Close.

You were so close.

Your eyes flickered over his face, searching, thoughtful. Not in the way most people looked at him. No, you looked at him like you were concerned. Like you cared.

“…How have you been?” you asked, voice quiet.

Chishiya raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze not breaking from his. “Since we talked. That night.”

Chishiya exhaled through his nose. He should’ve expected that. Of course you would bring it up. Of course you wouldn’t just let it go.

He rolled his shoulder slightly, shifting against the counter. “I’m fine.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He sighed.

“You’re looking at me like I just lied.” he muttered.

You didn’t deny it. Instead, you softened, just a little. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chishiya studied you for a moment, then looked away. “Not now.”

You nodded, unbothered. “Okay.”

Chishiya glanced at you again, a little surprised at how easily you let it go.

“I’m here when you do.” you reached up, your fingers barely brushing the back of his head before sliding deeper into his hair, a soft, slow movement that made something in his chest tighten.

It wasn’t much.

It wasn’t anything, really.

But it was gentle.

It was warm.

You sighed, your fingers tracing absentmindedly through his hair, the touch more comforting than anything he could ever remember.

“…I like your hair.” you murmured suddenly, voice light, thoughtful. “Always looks so soft.”

“That’s a weird thing to say.”

You huffed a small breath. “You think everything I say is weird.”

He didn’t argue.

You smiled, tilting your head again. “But it is soft.”

Chishiya exhaled, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Are you done?”

You grinned. “Not even close.”

Of course not.

You never were.

Chishiya sighed, letting his head tilt slightly into your touch. He told himself it was just because he was tired. That it was just easier than moving away. But deep down, somewhere, he knew the truth. That he didn’t want you to stop.

You sighed, your breath warm against the fabric of his hoodie as you let your head rest against his shoulder again.

Just for a little longer.

You felt him shift slightly but not pull away, and that alone made something in your chest ache. Because Chishiya wasn’t the type to seek out comfort. He wasn’t the type to allow it, accept it. And yet, here he was. Letting you stay close. Letting you rest against him like this, in the quiet of the dimly lit kitchen.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

And you knew better than to push. So you just sat there for another few seconds, letting the silence settle between you.

Eventually, though, you sighed again.

“Alright.” you murmured, lifting your head, stretching your arms slightly before pushing yourself up from the counter.

Chishiya straightened a little as you moved, his eyes flickering over you.

You gave him a smile, small but warm. And when you spoke, your voice was just as gentle. “You should get some rest.”

“Should I?”

You grinned, tilting your head. “I don’t know, doctor. Should you?”

Without thinking, without even hesitating, you reached out and gave his arm a soft squeeze.

Comforting.

Familiar.

Like you had known him forever.

Like you wanted to know him forever.

He just stared at you.

You gave him one last, lingering glance, something soft and sincere in your expression, before you turned on your heel and padded back toward the hallway.

You were gone.

Chishiya stood there for a moment, unmoving, hands still in his hoodie pockets as he listened to the faint sound of your footsteps disappearing down the hall.

And then, when he was finally alone, he let out a slow breath, tilting his head back slightly to stare at the ceiling.

You were getting close.

Too close.

The morning was still heavy with sleep when you stepped into the living room, your slippers soft against the floor, your hair a little messy, tired. All you really wanted was a slow morning—maybe some tea, maybe some time to wake up properly.

But the moment you entered, you knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Chishiya stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze steady, but something about the way he watched you felt expectant. Like he was waiting for something.

And then there was Niragi. His rifle swinging casually in one hand as if it was nothing more than an accessory.

“Hey.” Niragi cooed, tilting his head, his voice syrupy sweet. “Hope you slept well, because we’re leaving.”

You blinked, still sluggish with sleep. “What?”

“Time to go.” he drawled, waving his gun around, gesturing lazily toward the door. “We’re taking you home.”

Home.

You looked at him, then at Chishiya, then back at Niragi. “You’re serious?”

“As a bullet to the skull, sweetheart.” Niragi grinned, shifting his rifle to rest against his shoulder. “So go get your shit. We’re not wasting any more time.”

You felt your stomach twist. “I—I just woke up. You didn’t even give me a second to—”

“Don’t need a second.” Niragi interrupted smoothly, stepping closer, voice dropping into something almost sickeningly sweet. “C’mon, baby, no need to drag this out.” His free hand came up, his fingers just barely grazing your chin before you pulled back slightly, and god—he had the audacity to chuckle. “It’s cute, though.” he added, tapping the barrel of his rifle against his temple. “That little hesitation. But we both know you’re coming with us, yeah?”

Your throat tightened. “I just—I need a second to think, I need—”

“You don’t.” Chishiya finally spoke, voice calm, steady. “Thinking about it won’t change anything.”

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him. “That’s not—”

“You want to stay here?” Chishiya asked, tilting his head slightly, like he already knew the answer. “Alone?”

And that was the thing.

You didn’t.

They knew you didn’t.

And maybe if they had asked instead of telling, you wouldn’t feel this sick about it.

But Niragi wasn’t going to ask. He was already wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, the metal of his gun cold against your arm as he leaned down, his lips barely brushing your ear.

“C’mon, angel.” he murmured, low and coaxing. “We take care of you. I take care of you.”

You swallowed hard.

And Niragi knew. Because he laughed, tapping the rifle against your thigh now, light and teasing, as if he wasn’t wielding something deadly.

“That’s my girl.”

He pulled back just slightly as he took you in—your hesitation, the way you stood there, almost barefoot in your sleepwear, barely awake, barely processing. He had you, and he knew it.

“Go get dressed.” he said, sharp but still syrupy sweet. “We’re not waiting all fucking day for you to stand here looking like a lost little bunny.”

Your mouth opened slightly, but there was nothing to say, nothing you could argue when he was looking at you like that—like he already won, like he always won.

And maybe that was the worst part. That you let him win.

So you sighed, brushing past them, Niragi’s fingers ghosting over your wrist just for a second as you did. You didn’t look back, just walked down the hall to your room, closing the door behind you and letting out a slow breath.

They didn’t give you space to argue, didn’t give you time to think.

And now here you were.

Leaving everything you built behind because they told you to.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your tired eyes, your pretty clothes, the way you still looked soft and sleepy. They expected you to get up and leave, no time to dwell on what you were abandoning.

Fine.

If you were going to leave, you were at least going to look good doing it. So you changed, slipping into something pretty, something soft. Pink. Some dress.

And when you stepped back into the living room, brushing your hands over the fabric, adjusting it slightly, Niragi let out a low whistle, head tilting, eyes dragging over you from head to toe.

“Fuck.” he muttered, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Look at you.”

You didn’t respond, just raised an eyebrow, but that only made his grin wider.

“Dressing up for me, angel?” he asked, voice teasing.

“For myself.” you corrected, but you knew it didn’t matter what you said—he was going to take credit for it anyway.

Niragi stepped closer, reaching out, his fingers just barely grazing the hem of your dress before you swatted his hand away. He only laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” he said, waving his gun lazily in the air, dragging his mouth. “Get your shit. We’re leaving.”

Chishiya hadn’t said anything yet, just stood there watching, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking between the two of you. He didn’t whistle, didn’t make a comment, but his eyes lingered for half a second longer than they should have before he finally spoke. “Put the gun down.”

Niragi laughed. “Oh, come on, let me have my fun.”

But he lowered it.

For now.

You blinked at them, standing there in your pretty pink dress, fingers lightly fidgeting with the hem. You were still waking up, still trying to catch up with the way they just decided things and expected you to fall in line. “You two aren’t bringing anything?”

Niragi snorted, twirling his gun around his finger. “What the fuck do I need? I’ve got this.”

You stared at him. Then looked at Chishiya, who, predictably, looked unbothered, hands tucked into his hoodie.

“So… you’re telling me we’re leaving, just like that, and you two don’t need anything?”

Niragi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We’re not princesses like you. We don’t need to pack a fucking suitcase.”

You hummed softly, tilting your head. “But what if you get hungry? Or if it gets cold?”

“Then we eat whatever’s there, and if it’s cold, I’ll just use you for warmth.”

That made you huff a little laugh, but you shook your head. “I just mean… you’re making me pack, but you haven’t thought about what you need at all.”

Niragi waved you off like it was the dumbest thing he ever heard. “We’re not staying in the middle of nowhere, angel. There’s food there. There’s clothes. I can get a hundred outfits, and I’ll still look better than every sad fuck at the Beach.”

Chishiya finally cut in, voice dry. “That’s assuming there’s anything left for you to steal.”

That actually made Niragi laugh, like the idea of arriving back at the Beach and having nothing was hilarious. Maybe it was.

“What do you even need to bring?” Niragi asked, pointing his gun at you, not as a threat, just to make a point.

You blinked, mouth opening slightly. “Um—”

Niragi didn’t even let you start. “Clothes? You think we don’t have clothes there?”

“Well, I just—”

“And food? We have that too.”

Chishiya, ever the calm voice of reason, glanced at Niragi. “Still needs things.”

“Like what?” Niragi scoffed.

And this was where you should have been irritated, where you should have pointed out that you knew what you needed better than they did. But you weren’t irritated. You weren’t annoyed. You just stood there, watching them bicker about your things like they had more of a say in it than you did.

It was so them.

Chishiya sighed, still looking at Niragi like he was exasperated. “Toothbrush, for one.”

Niragi made a face, like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world. “She can get a new one.”

You stifled a laugh. “I like my toothbrush.”

“And what about hygiene products?” Chishiya added, like he knew Niragi hadn’t even thought of that.

That made Niragi’s face twist up slightly, nose scrunching. “What, you mean period shit?”

“Yes, Niragi.” you said flatly. “Period shit.”

You were trying so hard not to laugh, watching Niragi act like the concept of periods was somehow going to kill him. He waved his gun a little, expression dramatic.

“Just take what you need and let’s go.”

And that was the end of the conversation, apparently.

Not that it was really a conversation to begin with.

You just smiled, shaking your head, already turning back towards your room to pack.

You barely had time to adjust the strap of your pink little bag before Niragi was already waving his gun toward the door, like some impatient drill sergeant who had no concept of personal space.

“Move it, angel.”

Chishiya was less aggressive about it, but no less expectant. He stood by the entrance, hands tucked into his hoodie, watching you with that expression that meant he was thinking something, but he wasn’t going to share.

You hesitated for just a second, looking over your shoulder. The little apartment you had built into a home—your fairy lights still glowing faintly against the morning light, your cozy little couch, the kitchen where you spent so many nights making food for the very same men dragging you away now.

And maybe they saw it, that flicker of attachment in your expression, because Niragi’s voice softened. Just a little.

“C’mon, baby. No use looking back now.”

The way he said it was almost gentle, but there was an edge to it, like he needed you to listen, like he needed you to turn away from all this and go with them.

But you still stood there, frozen for just a moment too long.

And then Niragi was suddenly behind you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist, not squeezing, not pulling—just holding. His voice dropped low, too sweet, almost coaxing.

“You don’t need this place anymore.”

You felt bad. But that didn’t stop you from exhaling, from letting your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag before finally nodding.

“Okay.”

And that was all it took.

Niragi grinned, triumphant, and Chishiya just gave the smallest tilt of his head, like he knew this was going to happen, like he knew you were always going to choose them in the end.

And just like that, you were stepping forward, out of the apartment, out of everything you had made for yourself.

Niragi threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close like you belonged to him, like he had won. His lips pressed against the top of your head in something that almost felt affectionate—but you knew better.

And Chishiya? He just glanced at you as you walked past him, his gaze lingering for just a second too long before he followed.

You didn’t look back.

The streets stretched out before you, empty and endless, the sun casting long shadows against the crumbling buildings. You followed behind them, one step after another, the soles of your pretty shoes barely making a sound against the cracked pavement.

You were always talking. Always. You were an endless stream of warmth, of sweet words and gentle touches, filling the silence with something bright and real. But now? Now, you didn’t say a word.

Niragi’s eyes flicked back toward you, just a glance over his shoulder, but it lingered. Like he was waiting for you to say something, anything. A dumb little comment, some rambling thought about the buildings you passed, or maybe just the way the sky looked today. But you said nothing.

Chishiya noticed too, of course. He always did. He didn’t look back at you, didn’t even acknowledge it at first. But his steps slowed, just slightly, just enough that you could catch up to his side if you wanted to.

You didn’t.

You just kept walking, a few paces behind them, watching the city as it passed.

You had built something back there. In that little apartment, in the warmth of your fairy lights, in the way you had decorated every corner like it mattered. Because it did matter.

And now you were leaving it behind.

You didn’t want to.

But you loved them more.

So you followed.

You watched the wind ripple through the abandoned streets, stirring up old newspapers and broken glass. You watched the buildings, the ones you had learned to recognize, the ones that had made up your world for so long. You memorized them, committed them to the back of your mind like a photograph, like a goodbye.

And still, you were quiet.

Niragi exhaled sharply, tilting his head to the sky before finally throwing his arms out dramatically, his voice breaking through the silence like he couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.

“Alright, what the fuck is it?”

You blinked, finally looking at him.

He slowed his steps, turning to face you fully now, walking backward like it was easy, like he had done this a thousand times before. The gun dangled loosely from his fingers, the weight of it careless.

You didn’t answer.

His expression twitched, just for a second, like he was resisting the urge to grab you, to shake the words out of you. Instead, he lifted the gun, tapping it against his temple with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, come on. You’re making me feel bad here.”

That wasn’t true. Niragi didn’t feel bad about shit. But he did feel bored, and he did feel annoyed, and you knew that was just as dangerous.

Still, you didn’t answer.

Chishiya finally turned his head, just slightly, just enough to watch you out of the corner of his eye. He was quiet too, but his silence was calculated. Yours wasn’t.

Yours was grief.

And Niragi? Niragi fucking hated that.

His fingers tightened around his gun before he finally dropped his arm back to his side. “What, you miss your little dollhouse already?”

It was mean. It was supposed to be. Niragi was always mean. But the second he said it, something flickered across his face, too fast for you to catch. Something almost uncertain.

Because he had the feeling that, for the first time, he had said the wrong thing.

“Yes.”

One word. No hesitation. No softness, no attempt to sugarcoat it, no sweet little smile to smooth the edges. Just yes.

Niragi actually faltered. It wasn’t much—just a flicker of something across his features, just the briefest twitch of his fingers around the gun. Like he had been expecting you to brush it off, to laugh it away, to say something sweet and pretty and manageable.

But you didn’t.

You just stood there, looking at him like that, like the weight of this decision was sinking into your bones, like it hurt, and Niragi hated it.

He hated that you weren’t fawning over him right now. He hated that you weren’t touching him, that your hands weren’t on his arm, on his face, soothing away whatever nastiness came out of his mouth. He hated that for the first time in a long fucking time, he wasn’t the center of your universe.

And most of all? He hated the way you looked at him.

Not angry. Not even upset.

Just honest.

It was fucking unbearable.

“Pft.” Niragi scoffed, rolling his eyes, shifting his weight onto one foot. “You’re seriously pouting over some shitty little apartment? That place was a fucking dump.”

You tilted your head, still watching him.

You never snapped.

Not once.

You had all the reason to. You had been through hell and back, you had lost, you had bled, you had killed, and still, still you had never once raised your voice in anger. Never let the poison leak out the way it had infected the rest of them.

You could have.

You should have.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you just exhaled quietly, gaze flicking toward the empty street ahead before dropping to the cracked pavement beneath your feet.

“…It was my home.”

Niragi actually stopped walking. For half a second. For the tiniest fraction of time, he just stood there, blinking, his fingers twitching around the gun before he huffed sharply, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on.” He threw out his arms again, gesturing around wildly. “This is your home now, sweetheart. Us. We’re your home.”

The words came out too fast. Too insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you.

You looked at him for a long moment, something soft shifting behind your eyes, something Niragi couldn’t fucking stand, something that made him want to bite, to scratch, to ruin it.

But you just smiled, small and tired, before finally stepping forward, finally pressing a hand to his chest, your touch feather-light. “I know.”

Niragi exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing away.

Whatever. You were fine. You’d get over it.

Chishiya, who had been silent this entire time, finally spoke, his voice as quiet and dry as ever. “We’re burning daylight.”

Niragi huffed again, but he turned around, walking forward, letting his fingers tap against the barrel of his gun as he walked.

You followed.

Of course you did.

But Niragi didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

He didn’t know how to leave things alone. He was the kind of guy who had to keep pressing, keep poking, keep digging until he hit something raw. He liked getting reactions out of people, liked watching them twitch, liked knowing he was the one pulling the strings.

So of course, as you walked behind them, all quiet and weird and not you, Niragi couldn’t just let it go.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he scoffed, knocking his elbow against yours, forcing you to look at him. “You gonna sulk the whole way there?”

You barely even reacted. Just a small blink, a tiny glance up at him, before your gaze dropped again.

Fucking hell.

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Seriously, this is pathetic. What, you need me to hold your hand or something?”

No biting retort. No exasperated sigh. No teasing little smile.

Just silence.

It was pissing him off.

Niragi clicked his tongue, reaching out to tug at the strap of your bag, yanking on it just enough to jolt you. “C’mon, babe. Don’t tell me I gotta babysit your ass all the way back—”

Then you turned your head and looked at him.

And fuck.

It hit him like a goddamn bullet to the ribs.

Your eyes—big, round, shiny. You looked at him like a kicked puppy, like someone had taken something out of you and hadn’t given it back, like you were standing in the middle of an empty fucking street, lost.

And Niragi didn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

Because for the first time since meeting you, he had the distinct, horrible feeling that he had actually hurt you.

Not the usual way. Not the way he liked.

But in some way that twisted up his insides, made something uncomfortable curl in his stomach, made his fingers flex and twitch like he wanted to grab you and shake you and fix it.

And the worst part?

He didn’t know how.

“…Fuck’s sake.” he muttered, glancing away, rolling his shoulders back like it could shake off the weight pressing against his ribs. “You’re such a fucking crybaby.”

It was cruel.

It was unnecessary.

But it was safe.

Because Niragi didn’t know how to deal with softness. He didn’t know how to sit with it, how to hold it, how to fucking comfort someone without turning it into a joke.

And god, you were so soft.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t even flinch at his words. Just let out a slow, quiet exhale through your nose before dropping your gaze again, lashes brushing against your cheeks as you looked down.

That uncomfortable feeling in Niragi’s chest only grew.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t fucking care.

And yet, as you kept walking, as you kept trailing slightly behind them, so small and quiet and not yourself—Niragi felt his fingers twitch with the overwhelming, unbearable urge to grab your wrist.

To pull you closer.

To do something.

But he didn’t.

He just scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets, eyes flicking up toward the sky, as if he could find an answer there.

Whatever. You’d be fine.

You always were.

You had been walking for a while now.

It should have felt peaceful. But it didn’t.

Because you were quiet.

And Niragi was ignoring that, pretending not to care, half-focused on searching for bullets in whatever abandoned buildings you passed.

And Chishiya—well. Chishiya noticed everything. He walked ahead for a long while, hands in his pockets, glancing back at you every so often. Your pink little bag bounced slightly with every step, but you still walked slower than them, trailing behind, eyes downcast. You hadn’t even tried to talk to them.

That wasn’t like you.

And maybe that was why, after a few more minutes, Chishiya suddenly slowed his pace.

Then he was walking next to you.

“You know,” he said. “I saw your cat.”

You blinked, glancing up at him.

It was so sudden—such a random topic, so detached from the weight hanging between you. But maybe that was why it worked.

“…Really?” your voice was quiet, hesitant. But it was something.

Chishiya nodded, gaze still ahead. “Mm. The orange one. Looked well-fed.”

Your brows furrowed a little. “How would it even get food in this city?”

“There are ways.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe it steals.”

Your lips parted, confused. Then, a small huff of laughter, a tiny curl of your mouth.

From a few steps ahead, Niragi let out a loud scoff.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” he sneered, not even looking back. “Are we seriously talking about a fucking cat right now?”

You tensed slightly at his voice. But before you could retreat back into yourself, Chishiya hummed.

“I don’t see why not.” he said. “It’s better than listening to you talk about your gun.”

You let out a real laugh at that. Short, soft, but real.

And Niragi whipped his head around, giving Chishiya a nasty glare. Chishiya just raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered.

And maybe it was that, maybe it was the ease of it, or maybe it was the way Niragi’s face twisted into irritation—but suddenly, something about it felt normal.

Like you had slipped back into something familiar, something safe.

You weren’t completely okay—not yet. But you felt lighter.

And Chishiya—he didn’t smile, didn’t change his expression. But as you kept talking, soft and genuine, he couldn’t help but feel something satisfied settle in his chest.

Because he had done that.

And he wasn’t sure why that mattered, but it did.

“God, you two are fucking boring.” Niragi turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder at you and Chishiya.

You had barely said anything about his previous complaint—just a little glance in his direction before going back to your conversation with Chishiya, soft-spoken and calm.

That irritated him.

Niragi didn’t like being ignored.

So, naturally, he decided to entertain himself.

He twirled his gun in his fingers, walking backward as he looked at you both. “I mean, fuck, is this what I have to deal with now? You two whispering about cats and whatever the fuck else?”

Chishiya didn’t even blink. “You don’t have to listen.”

But Niragi just smiled. “Oh, but I want to.”

And before either of you could respond, Niragi suddenly whipped his gun up and shot at a car to the side of the street.

The sound exploded through the air.

You didn’t even flinch. Not even when Niragi screamed immediately after, the sound completely unhinged, something wild and cruel and thrilled.

“WOOOHOOO!!” he roared, dragging the word out as long as his lungs would let him, head tilting back with the force of it. Then he shot again—BANG BANG—at nothing in particular, just making noise, just because he could.

He was laughing, loud and rough, adrenaline singing through his veins as he waved the gun around.

Chishiya sighed, visibly unimpressed, but still didn’t say anything.

And you—well. You just watched him, eyes soft, curious, as if you were observing some strange new species rather than a man waving a gun in the air like a lunatic.

You had always been like that with him.

Like nothing he did could truly shake you.

Like you weren’t scared of him.

It should have pissed him off. Should have made him want to shake you, make you react, make you afraid. But instead—somehow—it just made him want to do more.

So he shot again.

And again.

Shouting, laughing, alive.

And you, still, just walked. Quiet. Unbothered. Like this was just him. Like you were used to it.

You picked up your pace. Your feet barely made a sound against the pavement, slipping between Niragi’s wild movements—ducking under the gun he swung carelessly in the air, stepping closer even as he pointed it at you, completely unbothered by the way his finger twitched over the trigger.

You had walked in silence long enough. And you weren’t meant for silence. You were not fine. You were so fine. So you spoke.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about?”

Niragi turned his head sharply, mouth open as it usually was, his gun shifting just slightly in your direction. He didn’t actually stop walking, still moving forward, but his attention was on you now.

You had it so easily. Just like that.

Chishiya watched from a few paces behind.

“I’ve been thinking,” you continued, eyes bright again. “about mini ponies.”

Niragi blinked. Then let out a short, barking laugh, almost thrown off by the unexpected words.

You smiled, as if pleased with yourself. “Not the baby ones—”

“That’s literally what you just said.” Niragi’s voice was like he was trying to find a way to ruin this for you.

“No, not baby ones.” you corrected quickly, turning to him fully now, completely unafraid of the way the barrel of his gun lazily moved with you. “Mini ponies. Like, the little tiny guys that are just small but aren’t actual babies.”

Niragi tilted his head, considering. Then shrugged. “So what?”

“So, do you think we can find them now?”

He raised a brow. “In Tokyo?”

“Well, now that animals are coming back.” you reasoned, tilting your head. “There’s been deer. Birds. I saw a dog the other day.”

“Congratulations.” Niragi said dryly.

You ignored him, already carried away in your own thoughts. “I mean, they’re out there somewhere, right? Someone probably had them as pets before, and now they could just be running around.”

Niragi smirked. “Yeah. Feral mini ponies. That’s exactly what we need.”

You gasped. “That would be adorable.”

He laughed at your enthusiasm. But you were already going on, lost in the idea, moving your hands as you spoke.

“Just imagine it.” you pressed, stepping closer, almost walking backward now to face him. “Tiny little guys, galloping around the city. Doing whatever they want. No rules.”

“You trying to be poetic?”

“I just think they’re cute.”

“They’re useless.”

“But cute.”

“Completely fucking worthless.”

“But you wouldn’t shoot one.”

Niragi paused. For a moment, it looked like he might try to argue—might grin in your face and say of course I would, might try to pull that same cruelty he always did, might test you just to see if you would still look at him like that.

But he didn’t. Instead, he let his gun drop back to his side, looking you over with something unreadable before scoffing under his breath. “Tch. You’re so fucking weird.”

You smiled, satisfied. “So no shooting mini ponies?”

“Didn’t fucking say that.”

You spun on your heel. “You think mini ponies are a dumb topic?”

“I think you’re dumb for thinking they’d survive here.” Chishiya said.

“But they could.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They’re prey animals.”

“I could be a prey animal.”

Niragi choked on a laugh. “Oh, bullshit.”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I mean, technically—”

“You’re the most annoying prey animal I’ve ever met.”

You grinned. “Then I’d survive, wouldn’t I?”

Niragi let out another laugh, grinning, looking like he was lost in his own little world again.

For the first time in hours, you didn’t feel so heavy. You liked talking to them. They cheered you up. Didn’t they ruin your mood first point?

BANG.

The sound cracked through the air, shattering the relative quiet of the empty streets. Birds scattered from the tops of abandoned buildings, a few loose signs rattled against rusted poles, and the echoes stretched for blocks.

And Niragi just laughed.

He swung the gun around in his hand, spinning it lazily with his fingers before firing off another round into the sky.

BANG.

“God, I fucking love this thing!”

You flinched at the volume—not from fear, just from how loud it was—but kept walking, barely reacting beyond that. You weren’t stupid. Niragi would point his gun at you, sure, would wave it in your face like a toy, but he wouldn’t shoot. Not you.

Chishiya, on the other hand, did react. Not much, just a small sigh from where he walked a few steps behind you, his hands still tucked in his pockets, but it was pointed—long suffering and unimpressed.

Niragi smirked at him. “What? You scared, doc?”

“Only of losing my hearing.” Chishiya muttered.

Niragi snorted, but he didn’t actually care about Chishiya’s complaints. No, he was more interested in himself. In you. The way you had been quiet—unnaturally, eerily quiet—since leaving, and now? Now, you were talking again. Moving again.

And he liked that.

Even Chishiya had noticed.

You weren’t sulking anymore. Instead, you had been talking—rambling, you, moving your hands as you spoke, eyes bright with some dumb topic about mini ponies and feral animals and whether or not they could be out here somewhere. It was stupid—so stupid—but it was you.

And whether they would admit it or not, they liked it better this way.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those horse girls.” Niragi poked his cheek with his tongue.

You let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “How dare you?”

“So that’s a yes?”

“No!” You huffed. “I just like animals. And they’re cute.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Niragi waved a hand, still walking ahead. “Next you’ll be talking about how you wanna rescue all the stray dogs or some shit.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s actually such a good idea.”

“Fuck me.”

Chishiya let out the faintest huff beside you, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips. You turned to him immediately, your attention snapping over, catching onto it so fast.

“Oh, so you do find me funny.” you teased, eyes narrowing playfully.

Chishiya didn’t dignify that with an answer.

You grinned anyway. “You do!”

He hummed. “I think you say dumb things in an entertaining way.”

“That’s an insult.”

He shrugged.

Niragi snorted again, and you turned back to him.

“Okay, but seriously.” you continued. “If we found a stray dog, you wouldn’t just leave it there, right?”

“Wouldn’t be my fucking problem.”

You gave him a look. “Niragi.”

“What?” He grinned. “You want me to build a fucking animal shelter out here?”

“I mean—”

“Do I look like some charity?”

“Niragi.”

“Do I have ‘fucking saint’ tattooed on my face?”

“Niragi—”

“Do I—”

“Niragi!”

He shot you a look. A fucking sassy one at that.

You huffed again. “You wouldn’t leave a dog if it came up to you.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head. “And how the fuck do you know that?”

“Because you like things that follow you around.”

Silence.

Niragi’s fingers tightened around his gun for a fraction of a second before relaxing again. Chishiya, beside you, let his gaze flick over to the interaction, silent, but watching. Thinking.

You knew Niragi liked attention. Knew he liked being the center of things, liked knowing people wanted him, needed him, were following him—not just physically, but emotionally. He liked control, liked the pull, liked knowing that the only warmth he’d ever been given was from you.

And he liked seeing you give it to him.

Even now, as he scoffed and turned away, throwing another bullet into the sky with a BANG, you knew.

You were talking again. Social again.

And both of them noticed.

“WOOOOOOOH!”

BANG.

A bullet ricocheted off a rusted streetlight, causing a high-pitched ping! to ring through the air. Niragi swung his gun again, pointing it up, down, around, at buildings, at the sky, at nothing at all, until he finally turned and aimed it straight at Chishiya’s head.

Chishiya didn’t even blink.

“Pull it.” he said, voice flat.

Niragi’s grinned like he actually might.

“Niragi.” you called out.

He turned to you instead, gun swinging midair before finally lowering it again. “What?”

“You’re loud.”

“Yeah?” He snorted, spreading his arms out. “That’s the fucking point!”

And then he screamed again, this time straight into the sky, voice stretching for blocks, breaking through the quiet that had settled after all the gunfire.

Chishiya exhaled, suffering. “You’re going to get us killed before we even make it back.”

Niragi just laughed.

You only watched. Watched as he moved through the streets like something untamed, something feral—a creature of chaos that had never learned how to be human, had never wanted to be, at least convinced himself of that. Watched how he spun his gun in his fingers, how he knew that Chishiya wouldn’t flinch when he pointed it at him, how he knew that you’d tell him to put it down, but he still did it anyway.

Watched how Chishiya never once stopped walking, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking over you both like he was waiting for the moment this all spiraled into something he could predict. Something he could understand.

You watched them.

And they watched you.

You had been quiet. You had been sad. But they had fixed that, hadn’t they?

Or—no. That wasn’t the right word.

They had redirected it.

Pulled you from one thing into another, had moved you, placed you back into motion so you couldn’t sit and mourn. And wasn’t that what Niragi did best? Push and push and push so no one had time to think, so you were only following, so you never stopped? And wasn’t that what Chishiya did too? Let people move the way they thought they wanted, but keep them within reach, let them settle into something, let them believe—

But you weren’t stupid.

And the truth was?

You liked it.

You liked them.

You had already been following them before you even realized you were walking. Had already decided that, even though your chest ached looking back at the home you had built, it would ache more if you let them leave without you.

You didn’t want to be left behind.

And maybe—just maybe—neither did they.

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina

#alice in borderland #aib niragi #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #niragi alice in borderland

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Note

Okay, I have a request for you that is no pressure, but Reader enjoys praise loves when she is being acknowledged for doing good and being good but doesn't know how to accept but their lover(and I have no idea would best fit this. My heart says Cassian, but realistically, it's probably Az or Eris) talks them through it shows them they don't need to be flustered.

Please ignore if this makes no sense

Self Worth

Summary - Cassian can't stand seeing you so low

Warnings - insecure reader, praise, mentions of mental health slipping

A/N - just a little baby fic of how Cassian would handle his mate needing her self-esteem and self worth built up 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

"Look me in my eyes and tell me the female I love isn't good enough again," Cassian was being as gentle as he could. You were shying away from him, eager for his praise, but instantly falling into that shell the second he gave it. "Look me in my eyes and tell me why the female I love cannot look at me after I tell her how beautiful she is today."

"I-" The words died on your tongue. No excuse you could find would appease him. No excuse would make him forgive you for whispering to him that you weren't enough. Weren't brave enough, pretty enough, strong enough. You saw the way he admired Nesta and Feyre. The way he admired Mor.

You didn't see the way he looked at you, though. He looked at you as if you had made the very world, as if you had forged him to be exactly how you needed him to be. You pushed him yo be that male, pushed him to be better. To be good. You made Cassian see the beauty in the world, the beauty in others. Perhaps that is why it hurt him that you could not see the beauty in you.

"I just never feel like I'm doing enough. Like there's no way you want me, want my body, want me to be-"

"Stop," he interrupted you immediately. He hid the break in his voice so well, hid how just a few words instantly shattered his heart. "You're struggling again, aren't you angel?" His eyes studied you hard as you nodded silently. "Y/n, you've been working so hard for Rhys, being the perfect emissary. You single handedly started the process of him and Tamlin creating a trade route, of him and Dawn beginning a joint training program between the Peregryn and Illyrians. Angel, you are doing so well and working so hard."

Your chest started to feel heavy, breathing becoming rapid, and Cassian instantly put his hands on your upper arms. He began to exaggerate his breathing, forcing you to follow it and calm down. "You are beautiful, you are special, you are kind. You are my mate, Y/n. You will never have to worry about competition or me not loving a single inch of you. I am proud to be yours. Proud you wanted me."

You looked up at Cassian, eyes lined in tears, "Really? You don't wish I was a.. a fighter?"

He laughed softly, "If you could fight, why would you need me? My job is to protect you. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Even if that means protecting you from yourself." He leaned in and kissed your forehead. "You are beautiful. Say it for me."

"I-" You paused, taking a deep breath. "I am beautiful."

Cassian's smile grew, "Good job, angel. Tell me five things you love about you."

You bit your lip thinking, "My eyes," he groaned in pleasure at that answer. "My humor," he whispered yes softly. "My butt-"

"Fuck yes your ass," Cassian turned you quickly to smack it before turning you around. "Continue."

You giggled at him, "My kindness," he shut his eyes smiling. "And... I think.."

"No. Not think. You know you love this last thing. Tell me again," he demanded.

You nodded more confidently, "I love my smile." Cassian held your face in his hands again. "Because when I smile, you smile, then I smile more."

"Seeing you glowing and happy makes me happy," he said. "Every day we do 5 things you love about you, then I'm going to spend the day praising them until that self Worth gets back up again, okay angel?"

"Okay, Cassie."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian of illyria #lord of bloodshed #cassian fic

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midnightshindig · 4 months ago

Note

what if cecil’s spouse was one of the guardians omniman killed in the first episode 👀

Cecil x OgGotG!Reader

Damn we all need some therapy, huh?

I've been getting a lot of angst requests and if you requested angst, and I haven't done it yet- especially if it's a Viltrumite reader, it's mostly because I'm mentally quite soft and it takes a lot more out of me to write good angst than good smut or fluff

Don't let this make anyone feel bad or stop requesting, I love it, but I just wanna be transparent about my process

You guys are amazing at requests though I eat this shit up EVERY time

Fic below the cut!!

I'll be honest idrk how to format this

Cecil and you are married in secret due to your status as a Guardian of the Globe

and it actually works out quite well

He's able to trust you to not die, and he's not constantly anxious you're going to get murked in battle

your power is super healing, like on some Deadpool type shit it should be virtually impossible to kill yo-

what the fuck.

Cecil and Donald arrive on scene at GHQ and there's blood everywhere.

Literally.

Everywhere.

Now Cecil is a tough man, he's been through stuff that would make the average person lose touch with reality

But this makes him almost throw up.

By far the worst part is that he can tell which blood Is yours because it's actively bubbling and trying to pull itself back together

The rescue team is trying to scoop you into a pile so you can reform, but there just isn't enough of you

Just blended and mashed guts and viscera, like your insides had been slushies before you'd died, and you'd been torn to shreds

but your blood was bubbling

could you even really die? Could you feel this? Could you think? What was Cecil going to do?

He watched you struggle to come back, and after THE IMMORTAL couldn't be resuscitated, he knew it was over

Your blood levelled and there was no effort to reform

maybe you'd finally died, perhaps you'd just given up

He didn't know.

He's pissy when he gets home, he can't cry, he's not sure he physically can

He wants to, but he's alone now, in his house, there's nothing stopping him

but he can't.

He looks at your wedding photos on the mantle, and down to the band on his hand

The cleanup team leaves yours in a box on his desk the next day

and he sobs.

He sobs so hard and so violently Donald clears the room, before excusing himself.

He hasn't cried since he took his job the GPA, this is decades' worth of tears just built up and pouring out of him as he clutches your ring to his chest

His was a black tungsten band, yours the very same band with Lonsdaleite set in. The two strongest materials available to him so you could wear it in battle.

He remembers asking you to marry him, and sobs harder

The two of you are on the beach, a ridiculous venture to get Cecil over his distaste for it. He's younger then, shortly after accepting his position at the GPA

"Y'know-" you start, adjusting your sunhat as he grimaces on the towel laid out for him, under a large umbrella "I don't understand how you can hate the beach, it's so cheery!"

"You get sand in your ass and the water is polluted, there are screaming children everywhere and this beach allows dogs."

You roll your eyes, leaning over to kiss the top of his head before standing back up

"Well I'm going into the water, you don't hate me, do you?"

"No, of course not. I know what you're doing, Y/n, it won't work."

"Noooooo, of course not" You wink at him, leaving him under his umbrella as you head into the water.

Ah hell.

He adjusts so that the ring box in his pocket isn't so obvious

This should go well. This has to go well.

You're at the beach until sunset, when Cecil is so anxious he springs into action without any thought

He doesn't have a speech prepared

He doesn't have anything prepared except the ring in his pocket

but fuck, it's so picturesque.

"Y/n- Y/n get out of the water!" He calls to you, but you just stick a tongue out at him

"If you wanna talk to me you have to get in!"

He can't believe you're doing this to him- or rather, he's marrying you because you do this to him.

And so Cecil plunges into the water, all the way up to his hips in it before he reaches you

You smile wide at him "Ahh you got in!! What's up?"

The wind blows the hat off your head as Cecil pulls out his ring, unable to kneel due to the water

"Will you marry me?"

"..."

"...??????" He's stressing out

"...!!" You're estatic

You tackle him into a hug, plummeting you both into the water

so much for not getting his hair wet

"Oh Cecil- this ring is beautiful!"

"Haha- I know, and it's resilient too, you can wear it while fighting..."

"and never take it off..." He finishes to himself, wiping the tears from his eyes and hoisting himself up, braced against the desk in front of him.

"Ugh... that's embarrassing. I can't believe it." He tries to put back on the tough guy act, but there's a pain in his heart and in his gut and everywhere. It hurts everywhere.

This is when Donald pokes his head back in with a box of tissues and a warm beverage

He doesn't say anything, just brings it over and sits in the desk chair next to where Cecil is holding himself up

After a long silence, Cecil nods at him, taking a drink from the mug

It isn't better, but it helps.

#invincible #invincible season 3 #invincible show #x reader #cecil stedman #invincible cecil #writers on tumblr #angst #invincible angst #cecil stedman x reader

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asaedw · 1 month ago

Text

PINKLOCK Chapter 00/Prologue: You Belong Amongst The Best

Please read the author’s note and the characters' information at the end. (wc: 3153)

2025.

It was never a matter of fate. The position of this ball now, where it will land in the next second, and who will be the first to capture it. All of this must be a random selection of the universe. Or so I would have thought before PINKLOCK. Luck is one of the trillion factors that decide who gets to sit atop our corpses. Who gets to hold the treasure.

The ball flies across the field. I position myself, ready to be Queen. Maybe in one of the infinite universes that I exist in, there is a place where I can be chosen.

To the very right of my foot is a familiar warmth. I don’t get to process it or adjust to the nostalgic scent. The ball obeys her every command and falls to her foot like it's submitting. She read all of it. Every little trajectory, every twirl of the ball, and position of the players that I managed to analyze in these ninety minutes, she knew all of it before me. Her eyes darken as we meet once more, years later.

“Didn’t I tell you? You’re worth nothing here.” I want to deny, to reject like I've always done. Now she runs toward the goal after stealing my crown for the hundredth time while I'm frozen in shock. I became too arrogant. I thought I had evolved. Grown. But she always manages to prove me wrong.

And now, it’s my turn to do that.

November 18, 2018.

I wanted to go home while I was already in it. I reminisced about the times when I had a companion. My other half, who one day changed. It was an exhausting day for me. Waking up early to practice because I didn’t want my parents to know. It’s not like they didn’t know that I was playing soccer. They simply didn’t like it when I did. I hadn’t realized this when I was still younger, but now I do. I was meant to be a vessel for their dreams. So I left for the nearby field in the town.

They’re validation was my first reason to play, but soon, it was gone. The spark of excitement I used to feel when I’d score a goal. It had vanished. As soon as my brother was born.

“We have hope.” They’d cry out in bliss at the sight of him. I was eleven, and I was abandoned. I felt worthless.

I continued to play, however. It felt like the only reason I wasn’t a nobody yet was because I had some skill in the game. I would avoid letting them know, still. They didn’t like it when I had even a glimmer of faith in myself.

“You should focus on studying, he’ll be our champion.”

I had to prove myself to them.

The big game was the next day. Since we had moved to Japan when I was ten, I’d been playing here alone ever since. I had Kieymi at one point. She would reassure me, support me. I got too attached, perhaps. One random day, she changed. She grew hateful and even vengeful of me. I never shed a tear at the people who’d bully me. Not even many for the harsh words I’d hear at home. But a part of me died the day she became his way. We were soulmates. Now she’s a faint memory.

Now I stood there in the empty field from dusk till dawn, hearing an echoing cheer and wishing it were real. I would be playing against her the next day, and just the thought of it sent my heart dropping to my stomach. Kick after kick, I would score goals from different ranges and different angles. I practiced unique trajectories, imagining her begging face looking up at me from below. I wanted to crush her. Destroy her. Like she’d done to me.

Maybe that’s what got me to continue playing. The reminder that she’s better than me at something I began four years before her.

As I was panting from exhaustion and envy, I noticed a dark figure somewhere in the corner of the field. It was a woman’s body. She observed me closely. It wasn’t light enough to read her expression. But she looked almost malicious. I approached, and now I realize it could have been stupid of me to do so. She was harmless, however. She handed me a letter quietly and watched me take it. The now rising sun shed light on her glistening eyes.

“My name is Teieri Anri. My dream is to—“I wasn’t willing to hear a speech, so I turned around and hurried home to open the letter. I had a feeling I should keep it a secret, whatever it was. I felt that this ‘Anri Teieri’ was a genuine person, and she radiated the trust and faith I sometimes wished my parents did in me.

Things didn’t go as planned. They never do. My brother was four years old. He didn’t know any better, but I still almost resent him for that day. I was busy helping my mother with chores. Aman could walk at the time, like many four-year-olds. He saw the letter I had foolishly placed in his reach, which he brought out of my room, my comfort, and into what almost always feels like a battlefield.

“Asa, do you want to explain yourself?” My father stood, his arms to his side. He questioned why I had accepted such a letter. They never forced me to stop, but they disliked the idea of me playing professionally. Accepting a letter that was inviting me to play with real players was a sin in their eyes. My mother soon joined and began her rant. Both of their shouts were in a duet as they spat mild threats at me. My ears rang from the noise.

“Shut up!” I yelled, and then I regretted it. Silence filled the room for a brief moment. Each second felt like an escalation towards an impending doom. I trembled, wondering about the consequences of my outburst. Then, with a sharp pull, the letter ripped apart in my father's hand. I swore I felt my heart rip in sync. The two pieces fell onto the floor.

“You will never play Soccer again. It was never for you.” With that, he turned to leave, my mother clicked her tongue. I remember falling to my knees, picking the two pieces up with trembling hands. She left the dining room, where the scene took place. I wondered why the neighbors weren’t outside our house after the noise and looked at the large window. Kieymi stood there, watching closely. I couldn't read her expression. The vulnerability lay in me because I was naked. She saw through me. She fled soon after a brief eye contact.

In that moment, I knew she’d gotten the letter too.

I clenched my fists, gagging at the thought. She left an imprint of her gorgeous fucking almonds for eyes, her expression so stoic it angered me to my core. I locked myself in my room. Planning to isolate myself permanently. This big stage was for Kieymi. Not a loser like me, I thought. I fell to the floor, my head bent like I was praying to some God for the same blessings he’d showered on her. After a good thirty seconds of choking myself till my face went blue, I ran around my room searching for tape. The letter looked fucked taped together. But I’d made up my mind. Obsession always beats talent.

I was going to go to this ‘Pinklock’ and nobody was going to stop me.

Was it an escape? Was it a dream? I don’t know. When I get there, I want to see her again. And I want to shatter every piece of hope or desire that she’s ever had in the palm of my hand. Maybe… it was revenge.

The next morning came quickly. I didn’t get much sleep, like usual. I had packed all of my essentials, including the now pathetic but signed letter the night before. The night that changed everything. I carried my stuffed schoolbag to the window, from where I climbed out. It wasn’t too high to jump, but my legs still needed a little work. My father probably thought it was another day of school. But little did they know, I was gone for good. I did steal a little cash and some food from the fridge.

I ditched the ‘big game’. My priority was now elsewhere. And I knew that Kiyemi was also not about to appear in today’s match either. There was a given time on the letter, which said that if you failed to show up within, you wouldn’t be accepted. Something about ‘lock off.’ It piqued my interest, and I knew I had to explore it. Today, I feel it was the best decision I could have made at the time. It was a catalyst for my career.

My heart raced as I got into the taxi. I felt that I was doing something so wrong. So shameful. But I hushed the angry voices with music. Soon, I was outside a tall building. It was closed, as expected. The time on the letter says 1:00 p.m., and I was there at three in the morning. I waited outside, trying to get some rest on the bench. I fell asleep soon, in fear that I’d wake up dead. There was no turning back now.

“Asa! Asa-chan!” An annoying voice woke me up. The blinding sun was needles in my eyes despite the clouds following up behind. I rubbed my eyes. A light brown-haired girl stood before me, holding my belongings.

“Who the hell are you?” I rose from the hard bench.

“I watched you play in the sports day this year. Also, be a little more polite, would ya’?” Her voice was bratty yet sweet, matching the honey of her hair.

I finally grabbed the bag from her hand.

“It’s about to close, let's hurry.” She dragged me into the building with an arm. “I knew you wouldn’t show up to today's game.”

“I doubt we know each other.” My response was bland. I wasn’t aiming to make new friends.

“Yonago Kita High, right?” I wondered why this person was so excited to see me. “Ah- my name is Hoshino Tori.”

The gigantic doors behind us shut automatically, and I noticed many of us flinch. I looked around. It was an auditorium full of female players. I noticed a brown girl dressed in forest hues, and a young idol with cotton candy for hair. Then I even noticed two dark skinned women standing side by side. Some stares were intense, some were playful. I was dizzy from the earlier sun and now, the mixture of a hundred fragrances in the room.

Then… I saw Kiyemi. I wanted to hide. After what she’d seen last night, I can only expect that she’ll have a lot to tease me for. Her pin-straight, ash-brown hime cut gracefully blew by her sides as she approached me.

“What do you want?” I began. She ran a finger through my bangs, correcting my messy hair. My eye twitched. How could you be so composed? So… okay with yourself and so confident before me despite all you’ve done to me?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes skimming my features. Her voice was bland, like her expression. She looked as if trying to decode what had changed in me.

“I’m a fucking soccer player, what do you think I’m doing here?”

“Is that so?” Her voice was cold. Nothing like the warmth that once uplifted me. I didn’t grace her with a response.

Tori watched the scene unfold, stepping in. She was blissfully unaware of our past connections. “You wanna be an asshole? Go do it somewhere else, bitch.” She spat out at Kiyemi. She chuckled in response and fled, leaving a pat on my shoulder. I was a bit shocked at the pretty lady spitting such venomous words. But I was okay with it. I traced the place on my shoulder where Kiyemi had just done a moment ago, but then quickly stopped myself.

Then, the lights went out. A lanky man with a jet black bowl cut became prominent on the stage, the blinding spotlight fixated on him. We looked at him curiously. A bunch of gossips were heard before he began to speak.

“And test, test, test. Congratulations and welcome, diamonds in the rough. You are the 300 18 and under strikers who have been chosen due to my arbitrary and biased decision making. And I am Jinpachi Ego, the man who was hired to ensure Japan’s future victory at the World Cup.”

We looked at him like he was insane... Which was our first impression of him, anyway. Hired? By whom and where did the World Cup come from? He continued to speak.

“It’s simple, really. In order to outstrip the rest of the world, Japanese soccer requires just one thing. And that is the birth of a revolutionary striker. I’ll be performing an experiment to turn one of you 300 into the single best striker in the world.” The girls looked around, as if the man on the stage had just grown another head. Did he just say… experiment? We were all equally confused and even a little unsettled by the psychopathic man in front of us.

“Um… sir?” the brown girl in the crowd raised a shy hand, “By ‘experiment’, you mean real training, right? How is your training better than other training camps and team practices? And… who’s paying you?” Good questions, I thought. The man before us now was a freak, after all.

He scratched his bowl cut, “Paying me? Is that all you heard? The JFU will be paying me once a Japanese team wins the World Cup.” He shakes a hand, that money didn’t matter to him, “, and as for what makes my training more reliable than the coaches you’ve been playing with for so long... Let's just say, uh, everything. You will all play a survival style of soccer. Here, it's not just some game, but a battlefield. Your coaches focus only on the physical aspects of the game, whereas your psychology and play style are what truly create your games. I will put you through psychological warfare and break you down mentally. This will restructure you for better playing. Here at Pinklock, you will train in a hyper-modern facility with high-tech and robotic analysis, which you can find nowhere else in this country. Lastly and most importantly, your next games will not depend on your teammates or the power of friendship. But on your EGO. “

We were all suspicious of the man. And yet, we were all intrigued. He continued to speak for three to four minutes about some ‘EGO’ that we lacked. I remember him expressing some pity for the country with statements like, “Is the future of Japan really in your hands?” he looked down at us like we were trash.

“What exactly do you mean by EGO?” a girl with striped hair, who was twirling it around her finger, raised a question, “and how is it a reliable method of securing the World Cup?”

“Hm?” the man was puzzled, he scratched his bowl cut for the hundredth time. “Tell me, why is Japanese soccer still not worthy of a win? No, let me ask you this: What is soccer? Is it about the eleven players working together? The bonds you form? Self-sacrifice? Fighting for your teammates? That kind of thinking is why this country's game has remained weak. I’ll tell you the right answer: soccer is about one thing.” He paused for a brief second, which left us all anticipating his next words: “Scoring more goals than your opponent does.” He shouts out in a frantic scream, which causes us to flinch, his body bending in all sorts of weird ways. We all gasped at the sight of the freak show he was putting on.

I couldn’t help but wonder where this man picked up his ideologies from. And just why did they make so much sense? If all teammates are trying to better each other instead of focusing on creating their own goals, they’ll have minimal and luck-based goals depending on the positioning of players. But if all eleven were self-absorbed ‘egoists’ like this guy wants us to be, we’d create many and potentially legendary goals.

The man then quoted Cristiano Ronaldo, Eric Cantona, and Pele. About their selfishness. I didn’t want to believe him. He was right, but I didn’t want to. It was the opposite of everything I’d ever been taught. It was undeniable. Soccer, at its very core, was about being the one who scores the most goals. Even your teammates are competition.

“You can’t possibly become the best striker unless you’re the biggest egoist. Which is why you’re all here. So I can create a player who has what it takes. Someone to climb on top of 299 corpses. A solitary hero...” he continued. Everyone looked at each other. Some were left with their mouth agape, some frowning.

I felt a sense of disturbing belonging.

Maybe that one thing that put Kiyemi in front of me was this ‘ego’, I thought. Even if she didn’t know or put a label on it yet. Just maybe, if I could achieve something supernatural like she did on that day, I’d be able to demolish her. Surpass her. And that’s why—my foot, without my permission, stepped closer to the stage. The curtains behind him now were raised, and beyond a blinding white, I could not see. It was an unspoken invitation by the madman before us, asking to join him in his fantasies. he smiled like a maniac while he spurted what sounded like idiocy continuously. No one dared to step forward. Yet, I gravitated toward him.

“So what you're saying is...” A familiar voice claws at my nerves. “…Is that only one of us survives at the end?”

I turned to face her once more. Her almonds were now full of anticipation and the same anxiety that was coursing through my veins. I wanted to say nothing and everything to her at the same time. But I only said one, plain warning. I spoke, one last time, yet I knew a hundred more conversations were to come. I ran toward the man, like he was a savior. He did notice me, closest to the gates of what looked like heaven. What could be hell. His eyes widened as he watched me pace towards him, and all I hoped was that what she heard me say last was enough. Enough for her.

“There can't be two bests now, can there... Kiyemi?”

Authors note and characters:-

Pinklock is situated in Japan hence, all characters speak in Japanese but writen in English unless stated otherwise. The first selection will be written in past tense as it falls all the way back to November 18, 2018. It is intended that Bluelock and Pinklock occur in the same universe because after the third selection, Pinklock characters will play against the boys team. The winning team will then play against Japan’s U20. Some characters will be eliminated and some will appear later. You must trust the process. One chapter will be written per month because I am also undergoing finals as I write this. All writing done here is solely by me alone. OCs and their backstory is written by tagged people mostly. Please do not translate, plagiarize or share my work without my permission. All chapters are more that 2k and less that 5k words. You may draw a scene or character but only after permission js granted which you may do in message or ask. Background characters are untagged as they will not have much of a role. I request that all people’s who sent a character tagged below send me their discord username (preferrably in tthe cmnts) so that we may have an open discussion for suggestions and feedback. If you want to add Characters submitted by readers so forth are tagged at the end. I would greatly appreciate if the OCs tagged in this series could reblog my post because that support would motivate me to write further!

🚬 I'm sorry it took a minute, girls, and also I couldn't fit all characters into chapter zero, but don't you guys worry because they will be mentioned when it is your characters' team's turn to play against Asa's. I will try my best to write them all justly and let all of them shine. Also, someone also asked about elimination. if I plan to eliminate a character, I will discuss it with you and justify. I won't do it out of the blue, I love your ocs lol. please enjoy my babes and tell me who's your fav so far.

Find the characters and their rightful owners in my PINKLOCK CHARACTERS post.

@kiyy0mei , @innvmorati , @minlahzz , @feliwnni , @alexiaray , @kacchans-waifu , @jwmiooa , @pinkymangacaps , @cafem3wcuryy , @prettyluvvs-ichi , @plutoplue , @serial-gooner-lain , @hygienic-law , @dollyrins , @onlykaiiisagiz , @t3chn0chan ,

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serpentface · 7 months ago

Text

THE KHAIT BRIDEGROOM (South Wardi variant)

(A romantic folktale in which a girl marries her khait, kinda)

There once was a poor maize farmer, living in a mud hut at the edge of a village on the Brilla river. His beloved wife had died in childbirth, leaving him with only a daughter to raise on his own. The two led very difficult lives, and he mourned that he could not grant his daughter the ease and safety that she deserved. She had to work the fields just as hard as he did from the moment she was able to walk.

The most valuable asset to the farmer’s name was a beautiful young bull khait, who he had found roaming wild in the scrub. The khait was big and strong, with fur that shone gold like sunlight and was spattered with white spots like stars. He was never gelded, for he was a gentle and docile animal that bore none of the wild ferocity of many an intact bull. He took the yoke without complaint, and bore a rider with unwavering patience. Many had tried to buy the great beast from the farmer, but he refused all offers. Having such a fine working animal of his very own was a gift beyond the farmer's wildest dreams, and the khait was worth far more to him than anything he was offered.

The farmer had no fear that his khait would ever harm his daughter, and so she spent many days working him in the fields on her own. She always treated the animal with a kind, gentle hand, and he trusted her deeply and worked himself hard for her sake. The girl and beast became dearly bonded during the years of her childhood.

But the farmer’s daughter had just recently come into womanhood, and he was now tasked with finding her a good husband, and perhaps a better life in the process. He approached every man of good standing that he could find, but each laughed in his face. His daughter was too ugly, they said, and the farmer certainly couldn’t offer a good enough dowry to make up for it.

And it was true that his daughter wasn’t all that pleasant to the eye. Her hair was loose and matted, her skin was sun-worn and rough, she was often dirty from her labors, and the only cloak she owned was tattered and worn over her naked body. But beneath all that she was kind and gentle, hardworking and obedient. A man could not truly ask for a better wife, and so the farmer persisted.

The only potential suitor he had yet to approach was the son of his village’s chieftain, who was newly a man and as of yet unwed. The farmer knew he had little to offer the man, but hoped that the son of a wise elder would see his daughter’s virtue.

And so brought his young daughter to meet the chieftain’s son. He supplicated himself before the youth, laying one hand on the man’s foot and one across his own breast.

“My lord, I would offer you my daughter’s hand in marriage. She is kind and gentle, hardworking and obedient. You could not ask for a better wife.”

The chieftain’s son held back a laugh. He certainly could ask for a better wife, and quite easily! He found the very proposition to be insulting. But he had a rather lowly and vicious nature, and thus he pretended to contemplate the offer.

He looked the girl over with a deep frown, and shook his head.

“As tempting as this sounds, I must refuse. Her hair is too matted and ugly, I cannot have an unkempt woman for my wife. Perhaps if she manages to fix it, we can discuss engagement." The chieftain's son said.

And he sent the father and daughter away.

The girl had nothing left but to attend to her chores. It was the beginning of the planting season, and she had far too much work to do to wallow in her sadness. She held back tears as she placed the yoke on the khait’s neck, and began to cry to herself as she hitched him to the plow.

“What’s wrong?” Asked the khait.

“The chieftain’s son won’t marry me. He says my hair is too matted and ugly. He thinks I am unkempt.” The girl wept.

The khait felt great pity for her. It was true that her hair was quite disagreeable, but through no fault of her own. She had no mother to teach her to braid it finely, and her daily labor was too dirty and strenuous to keep it neat. It hurt his heart to see her so sad. And so he asked his friends, little egret and magpie, for help.

Magpie flew off to a distant town, and there he stole a ball of sweet-smelling soap and a jar of sesame oil. And meanwhile, little egret sat upon the girl’s shoulder as she guided the plow, picking lice out of her hair and teasing apart the tangles with her nimble beak.

The next morning, the girl rode down to the river upon the khait’s back. The great beast stood guard and shielded her body while she washed her body and cloak with the fine soap and oil. She scraped the dirt from her skin and oiled and rinsed her hair until it was clean. Little egret taught her to braid her hair finely, and together they wove it into two neat strands, scarcely a hair loose.

She thanked the khait for his help, and he nodded his great head, relaxing as little egret and magpie took flies from his ears in payment.

The girl returned home and excitedly showed her father the good news. Her once filthy hair now shone bright and clean like chains of bronze, fragrant with oil and falling in two tight braids down to her breast. Both rejoiced, and her father took her to meet with the chieftain’s son again.

The farmer supplicated himself again, and said:

“My lord, I would again offer you my daughter’s hand in marriage. She is kind and gentle, hardworking and obedient. Her hair is beautiful and well-kept, and shines like bronze. You could not ask for a better wife.”

The chieftain’s son looked her over with a deep frown, and shook his head.

“I suppose her hair is quite beautiful now, but on second look-… Her cloak is tattered and worn, and she carries herself like a barbarian, wearing nothing underneath. I cannot have such a lowly woman as a wife. Perhaps if she manages to clothe herself properly, we can discuss engagement.”

And he sent the father and daughter away.

The girl returned to her tasks, humiliated and miserable. She flung the seed as if she disdained it, stomping through the freshly tilled fields in her anger.

“What’s wrong?” said the khait, gently nosing her shoulder.

“The chieftain’s son still won’t marry me. He says my cloak is too tattered and worn, and that I am naked like a barbarian. He thinks I am lowly.” the girl said.

The khait was upset for her sake. She had only one cloak to her name and walked near-naked underneath, this was true, but she took precious care of what little she had, and carried herself with modesty and dignity. It hurt his heart to see her honor insulted.

“Go down to the river and gather a bushel of the sweetest, greenest grass you can find, and take your father’s sharpest knife. Return to me, and I will take you to someone who can help.” the khait said.

And so the girl and went about gathering grass, taking only the most succulent of stalks and wrapping it all in an old blanket. She returned to the khait, knife and grass in tow. He took her upon his back, and together they rode into the brush.

They traveled for half the day, all the way to the Red Hills. There they came across a big horse with wool the color of snow, surrounded by his brightly spotted yakintsi wives.

The khait saluted him with a loud bellow. He stood nearly thrice as tall as the horse, but bowed his head in deference all the same.

“Lord of the hill, I humbly ask you to give this girl some of your wool. She brings fine riverside grass as a gift in trade.” the khait said.

This horse, though of tame stock, was himself wild and proud. The thought of being sheared was a bit humiliating, and he considered leaving his visitors in the dust then and there. But the forage of his hills were poor and sparse, and the bundle of grass the girl had brought was quite enticing. And his wool had grown a bit too thick and fine for the hot weather, and he could certainly stand to lose some.

“Fine,” he said, “She may shear my wool for as long as it takes for me to finish eating, and not a moment longer.”

And so the horse chomped away at the grass while the girl made quick work of shearing him. By the time the horse finished and ran off, the girl had gotten herself a hulking pile of fine, white wool. She carefully bundled it into her blanket, and the girl and khait rode back home.

She spent many days spinning the wool, and meanwhile the khait brought her kolis flower and foxgloves to make dye and precious feathers and cowries for adornment. She then spent many more days in weaving, until she had a fine cloak and veil of yellow, a grass-green headband with white stripes, and a pure white dress to wear underneath.

She happily showed her father her new clothes. Both rejoiced, and her father took her to meet with the chieftain’s son again. This time, the girl rode astride the khait so that her dress would not be dirtied by walking. She was a resplendent sight atop the beautiful animal, her brown braids gleaming against the rich yellow of her cloak and lovely white gull feathers and shells ornamenting her headband.

The farmer supplicated himself a third time, and said:

“My lord, I would again offer you my daughter’s hand in marriage. She is kind and gentle, hardworking and obedient. Her hair is beautiful and well-kept, and shines like bronze. Her cloak and veil are fine and well-made, and she wears a dress of pure white. You could not ask for a better wife.”

The chieftain’s son looked her over with a deep frown, and shook his head.

“Her hair may be very beautiful, and her clothes may be fine, but on third look-… Don’t her hips seem a little narrow to you? A little too lean? She will never be able to bear healthy children.”

And, seeing a possibility, he added:

“But perhaps that could change with a good offering. Give me your khait as part of her dowry, and I will offer him up to bless your unfortunate daughter. Then we can discuss engagement.”

The farmer was pained at this. He could hardly bear to lose such a precious and hardworking animal. But the thought of seeing his beloved daughter sad and alone pained him far more. He reluctantly agreed.

“This khait is a fine and noble animal, gentle and docile, and agreeable to hard work. He is young and has never once been bred. One could scarcely make a finer offering than him.” The farmer said sadly.

And with that, the khait was handed off to the chieftain’s son. But he had no intent on making an offering of the animal in sacrifice, just as he had no intent on marrying the girl. The khait was a very fine beast indeed, and the chieftain’s son wanted him for his own herd.

But his satisfaction at his play soon turned to frustration. He had hoped to use this fine bull as a stud, but the khait refused to cover any mare. He thought that certainly he could pull a plow or carry a rider, but the khait shook off the yoke and bucked and kicked at the sight of saddle. The man couldn’t even bridle the khait, who would lower his horns and paw the earth at the mere sight of him. The chieftain’s son finally decided to geld him in hopes that the beast would become less spirited, but he couldn’t even make the approach. The khait charged him on sight, and ropes meant to hold him seemed to slip off his neck like water.

“That wretched plowman lied to me, this animal is bad-tempered and wild. He probably has a better khait hidden somewhere, that greedy dog. This one is useless.” The chieftain’s son said to himself. He decided there was no remaining use for the khait but to butcher him for a feast.

It took ten men to capture the khait, and ten more to hold him down. The chieftain’s son, who by now felt quite vindictive towards the great beast, decided he wanted the honors of the slaying himself. He held the furious khait by the horns and sliced a deep gash across his neck.

But to the astonishment of everyone watching, no lifeblood poured from the wound. Instead, the khait’s form seemed to shift right before their eyes, its great bulk shrinking beneath its flesh. Its golden hide fell open, and out from underneath climbed a human man. He was tall and handsome, with freckled skin that shone like bronze, and a thick beard and long curled hair the color of gold. He covered himself in his own shed hide, and spoke to the chieftain’s son with great disdain.

“You are a pathetic dogfaced excuse of a man, a liar and a thief. You live crawling so low that you can’t see a good thing standing right in front of you. If you won’t marry her, I will.”

And with that, he left the man and his entourage behind in astonishment.

The khait-man did not head back home straight away, but instead slipped into the brush where little egret and magpie were waiting for him. He had bidden his time under chieftain’s son’s care so that they could help him collect a great bridal gift.

He clothed himself in a fine cloak and skirt, and said farewell to the birds, who mourned their loss of lazy spent eating flies off his back. Hefting his gift onto his strong, broad shoulder, the khait-man made his way back to the little mud hut.

The farmer answered the call at his door with his daughter hiding behind him, frightened of this strange man. But as she looked at him she quickly recognized the gentleness in his eyes, the familiar sunlit shine of his hair, and her heart was glad.

The khait-man knelt and bowed deeply, and said to the farmer:

“I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. She is kind and gentle, hardworking and obedient, and more beautiful than the sun. I could not ask for a better wife.”

And the khait-man laid out his gift- rare and resplendent feathers, precious shells, fine wool, and his own lovely golden hide. This would more than cover the girl’s dower and the farmer’s loss of his khait, and leave him a hefty sum of wealth behind as well.

The farmer agreed to the proposal with great enthusiasm, and the girl and the khait-man were thus betrothed.

And so they were wed, and had many children. The girls were beautiful and the boys were handsome, but all were a little strange- their hair was shone gold like sunlight, and their skin was spattered in freckles like stars.

NOTES:

Animal stories feature heavily into Wardi folktales. There are two distinct (though not wholly separate) traditions of animal stories- the older tales focus more heavily on talking animals as archetypal figures- a trickster hare, a greedy hyena, a cowardly jackal, a brave lion, etc- interacting in the wild with little to no human presence, or with Human being just one animal figure. These are at least in part the remains of original animistic religious traditions among early Wardi groups, wherein animal spirits would be used as figures in tutelary and/or explanatory fables (and for entertainment).

The modern era tradition tends to focus more on talking animals interacting with humans within the framework of human society. In some cases the animal’s ability for speech is unquestioned, in other cases the animal is explicitly magical in nature. These variants still tend to retain old style animal fable elements and their learned archetypal relationships. IE: a khait having a little egret and magpie as friends is an old archetype- (the little egret is a bird that follows large ungulates to feed on flies and stirred up insects, and a type of magpie in the region is known to eat flies and ticks off of large ungulates, and to be more tolerated than oxpeckers), these birds would often be cast as friends or servants of large, noble ungulates. The theme of the khait having access to a sort of separate animal society also resembles the theming of the older animal stories.

This particular fable has many variants across the Wardi sphere. The girl is usually a peasant’s daughter, but is sometimes a noblewoman mistreated by her family. The animal is usually a khait, but sometimes a bull, very occasionally another animal (a horse in some North Wardi traditions, one highly derived Highlands variant has a dragon as a spouse).

The khait bridegroom story is just one part of a much broader folktale archetype, whose core points are:

A virtuous young woman is unable to find a husband, is beautiful but made ugly and dirty by her lifestyle (usually either poverty or abuse)

An animal helping figure assists her (sometimes its an actual animal, sometimes its the spirit of a dead relative in animal form, sometimes its a shapeshifter, a wild spirit, a minor deity, or a cursed human)

There is a conflict between a good suitor and bad suitor- in some cases the good suitor is the animal, in other cases he is a third party.

This archetype extends far beyond the Wardi cultural sphere, and directly connected variants can be found among all the Viper and Mouth seaway adjacent peoples (Burri, Kos, Titen, Finn, Royal Dain and some other Dain groups, Ubiyan, Uboe, Wogan, Wardi, Cholemdinae, Hill Tribes, Yuroma), sometimes in addition to or merged with separate animal bride(groom) folktales. This spread is through a combination of common ancestry of some groups, and regular historical interaction of others. Very similar folktales occur elsewhere in the world, but likely developed independently.

In this variant of the story, the khait's ability to talk and transform into a human is not explicitly explained, as it's not a core concern of the narrative. In some other variants, the khait is specifically a nobleman or prince or otherwise upstanding man who has been cursed into animal form (and is cured at some point in the story), or he is a benevolent shapeshifter (belief in people with the ability to magically change into animals via wearing skins is very common, largely considered silly commoner superstition by the urban elite but still very popular in folktales). The latter is heavily implied here, especially by the khait removing his skin to transform and giving it up in marriage.

A perhaps unexpected subset of this folktale's popularity is its imagery being a common motif erotic art objects, particularly the matter of inevitable consummation of the khait-man and girl's marriage. These are usually not considered outright pornographic (as is true for most Wardi erotic art), and often are mildly humorous in nature, fully embracing the strangeness of a girl marrying what was, up until recently. an animal. The suitor is usually depicted with a head of a khait, even when in human form. Animal headed figures in Wardi art are almost never meant to be taken literally, and instead are used to describe inner nature (in this case, him being a literal animal, but in other cases it's nature in a more abstract sense- ie: some visual representations of Odonii or the Odomache depict them with the heads of a lion) or as a visual shorthand for shapeshifting.

The less explicit cup in a matching pair depicting the khait-man and girl's wedding night (though is only tied to the story by its concept, and is otherwise quite tonally disparate).

He's shown presenting her with a courtship gift of an ornamental domestic duck, which will read as comical- it may suggest that he's nervously trying to secure her affections despite being already married, or that he doesn't know how courtship works (because he was an animal up until, like, yesterday) and thinks he needs to give gifts to get sex. The oversized phallus will also be read as humorous. The tapered shape is not intending to represent an ungulate penis, and is instead a visual pun on the phrase 'a bull led by his horns'.

While this cup is intended to function as a decorative and mildly humorous art piece (rather than outright arousing to the audience), the depiction of the young woman is straightforwardly sexualized, with the high focus on her thighs and buttocks (which is a cultural focal point for feminine sexual beauty) and her wavy un-braided hair (common in erotic scenes, as it gives the audience a voyeuristic sensation that they are VERY specifically looking in on a highly private scene (due to women normally keeping hair braided outside of the home)).

This cup is a very fine art piece made by a devoted craftsman. This degree of stylistic realism is rare in Wardi art and a largely contemporary phenomena, due to the increasing demand for accurate visual representations of public figures in statuary, frescoes, and coinage partly leading to the rise of a highly skilled, wealthy craftsman class. The relative surplus of these elite artists has led to some instead making a living on such things as antelope-man erotica objects for nobles to leave out in their domiciles as conversation pieces.

#folklore #imperial wardin

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