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sincerelyrki · 4 months ago

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you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth.

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with.

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas.

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility.

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening.

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers.

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own.

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself.

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background.

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest.

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments.

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon.

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see.

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist. A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about.

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you.

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour.

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin.

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion.

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon?

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin.

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer.

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing.

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop.

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess.

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them.

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched.

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost.

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long.

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips.

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel.

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much.

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own.

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class.

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different.

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers.

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation.

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses.

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier.

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light.

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation.

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t.

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions.

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout.

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would’ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust.

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out.

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you.

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind.

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence.

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try.

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand.

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull.

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description.

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop.

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic.

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat.

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely.

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union.

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it.

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones.

You were a demon.

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning.

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body.

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt.

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection.

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity.

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you.

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment.

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms.

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness.

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants.

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting.

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister.

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not?

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same?

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him.

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise.

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities.

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason.

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it.

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna.

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him.

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life.

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life.

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago.

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go.

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you.

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists.

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive.

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall.

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around.

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain.

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip.

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before.

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.”

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude.

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now?

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips.

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good.

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming.

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer.

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you.

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before.

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes.

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before. He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine.

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything.

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you.

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was.

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go.

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours.

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips.

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours.

Your blood filled his mouth

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin.

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him.

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you.

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds.

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away. Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall.

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail.

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience.

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head.

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly?

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him.

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press.

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point.

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue.

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

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sparklingblu · 2 months ago

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Limerence (ft. ILLIT Minju)

I don't even know what to call this. Somewhat of a fluff but not really a fluff either. Something that just pops into my mind.

"So he asked 'Is it better to speak or die?' "

"That's the stupidest story I have ever heard"

Minju leaves no chance for you to savour that feeling that comes after quoting something particularly clever. Or she's just being a jerk as usual.

"You are just anti-romantic"

You protest though you know she will have thought of a retort before you finish.

"There's nothing romantic about this story"

"It's a love story for christ's sake"

"Where's the 'love' ?"

You slump back in your chair, defeated. Either she's too dumb to understand your point or you are just bad at telling stories. The latter's probably more likely.

The story's not an ordinary one in the first place. It involves a knight and a princess but it ends neither with a 'happily ever after' nor a bloodbath where they both rip their hearts out. There isn't even an ending.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

The last sentence on this paper of the dusty hard covered book which has turned yellow from the years it have endured. It's a mircale how it's still intact.

You mummur the question under your breath, trying to make sense of the words. But they are still nothing more than a jumbled mess in your mind.

The funny thing is, this is not your first time reading this story. You are actually too familiar with it. The setting, the characters, the way it almost seems to tell the secret you have carefully hidden; it doesn't make sense that you are still confused what this single question everything has lead up to mean. Still, you are here, no wiser than the first time you have read this tale.

In some time immemorial in an unknown kingdom lived a princess and a knight, each a good friend to another. Perhaps because of this closeness, the knight started to feel something more than companionship to the princess. Feelings that shouldn't exist given their scoial status. The princess knew it too though she ptetends to be oblivious. Nonetheless, the knight found himself unable to express his desires - torn between the fear of losing what he currently has and the turmoil of hiding himself. So one day, when he took his usual walk with the princess through the garden, he mustered up the courage to ask one single question.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

The End.

Anyone can guess at this point that the knight meant if it's better to put his feelings into words and sacrifice their friendship or die knowing that he will never have what he wants. You wish it's that simple.

You and Minju have been stuck in the same page for an hour now, still having no idea how to progress your assignment. The task was a paper on an in depth analysis on a tale of your choice. Now you regret not choosing 'The Tortoise & The Hare".

"Why do you choose this one anyway? There are like a million other better choices"

Minju says, gesturing at the endless shelves of books that surround you on all sides. Not millions but perhaps a thousand other choices you could have made in this rectangular bank of knowledge; the local library.

Somewhere distinct, you hear a bell chimes, signaling the arrival to the later hour of the night. You glance at your watch. It's already 9 pm. A cough reasonates from the counter near the entrance, emitted by none other than the librarian. The ghastly old woman seems to be signalling that we don't have much time left.

I don't have much time left.

Minju's translucent pupils are fixed on you, still waiting for your answer. You break out of the haze.

"Because it's.."

'Relatable'. The word is 'Relatable'. But she doesn't need to know that. Never.

"Interesting I guess"

You finish, not quite daring to meet her eyes. She might see the guilt of your dishonest words in them.

"Seriously? This is interesting? Next time you think something is interesting, feel free to ask my opinion"

"Not everyone have great taste"

You mean it to be a playful jab but her face distorts to something along the line of fury and hurt. And her lips part.

No. Please don't be mad.

Please.

"Jerk"

Her words put out the flames of fear threatening to rise in your chest. There. All good. She's not mad.

You let out a sigh of relief but quickly mask it as a half formed scoff. She can't know. So you waver her attention.

"Tell me then. What's your opinion on this story apart from it being hopelessly stupid"

Her lips stretch to a soft smile. You have put her back into her comfort zone.

"It's not about love like you think. It's about cowardice"

"Enlighten me"

She crosses her arms, the pose she always takes before her rosy lips spill out a waterfall of the most beautiful syllables. It also makes her look superior. The table, which is the only thing between you two seems like a brick wall now.

"The knight doesn't say 'I love you' or anything of that sort, does he? He's scared out of his wits so he decided to go for a safer alternative. That question. It literally says 'I'm a coward who can't even properly confess' "

Is she mocking you?

Probably not. She doesn't know. She will never know.

Still....

'Is it better to spek or die?'

A coward's attempt at love; complicated and imperfect. At least he has the courage to mutter those cowardly words.

"You are not wrong but can't it be that he's just scared of losing her?"

Yes. You are referring to yourself.

But she won't know.

"He already loses her after saying these words"

"You don't know that. You don't know what the pericess's answer was. She could have accepted him"

"You don't know that either"

Now she's fighting you with your own words.

"What would you have answered if you were the princess then?"

Is that an indirect confession? An attempt to ask her opinion without facing the shame that comes after rejection? You hope not.

"I don't know...I would probably ask him to speak in English"

"Not funny at all"

Your answer makes her raise her brows in disbelief as if saying - "I know I will never not be funny to you. You are too obsessed with me not to."

But that's impossible. She doesn't know.

Has she spoken these words aloud, you would happily agree with her. But that's just momentary courage. Your tongue would be tied to knots in a hearbeat if that ever happens.

That begs the question again.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

"Whatever" she says in exasperation. "I'm not lovey dovey enough for this"

"Seriously. Just tell me what you would have said"

There. You are pushing again, desperate for that answer even if it's not directed at you. You would cling to a tiny hope if it's ever a positive one.

"I don't know. Probably tell him to speak because I don't want anyone going suicidal mode because of me"

"He will still go suicidal if you reject him after he confess"

"Why are you asking me those? Were you in such a situation before?"

You surpress a chuckle that nearly slips your tongue.

What a fool you are Minju. You can't even spot the truth that's hidden in plain sight. The truth that has gone rusty and rotten because it has been locked up for so long. Still, it's not her fault.

You have hidden it so well.

She doesn't need to know.

"Yes"

You can't believe you say the word. It's as if someone has possessed you and put those words on your tongue.

"Poor you"

And just like that, it ends.

You have expected her to push you, given her curious nature. You want her to lend you the courage to say those words you have mummur countless times in your dreams. But she just leaves you hanging there like that. Cruel.

Can't blame her though.

She doesn't know.

Another cough pierces through the invisible viel that has seperated you two from the world outside.

9:25 pm.

5 minutes away until this tedious session of back and forth ends.

Why is it that you don't want it to end?

The papers in front of you are bare as they were an hour ago. The book still turned at the same page. The question that haunts you still lies there, imprinted in black.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

Neither. Because that's a stupid question just like Minju said. It's constructed to mess with your mind. You gotta stop dwelling on it.

"Anyway-"

Chimes

That sound. It can only mean one thing.

Minju pulls her phone out of her pocket, the glow of it illuminating her angelic feature as she turns it on. Not a moment sooner, her lips hold the prettiest of smiles.

And in all the wrong ways.

"Gotta go"

Her dismissal cuts through the tense air as she hurriedly put the papers back into her bag. Is she that desperate to get away from you?

"My boyfriend's waiting for me. We have a date tonight"

You are not angry. It would be wrong. Though it's only natural to envy the one who's living your fantasy. But the faults are not in our stars.

"Alright. Goodnight"

Minju's footsteps echo on the mahogany floor as she finally escapes the torturous session you have put her though, flying away to an embrace better than yours in every way.

But it's ok.

Because she doesn't know.

She gives a quick wave to the old librarian who does nothing to reciprocate the action. That hag doesn't know how lucky she is.

"Minju"

You call before the rest of her form disppears through these creaking doors. She turns on her heels, a stray strand of hair clinging like an unifinished piece of art to her forehead. The shadows cast by the moonlight does nothing to hide her.

"Yes?"

You breath.

And utter.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

___________________________________________

Took the famous question from the movie "Call me by your name". Though I alter the story. Thanks for reading this madness.

#kpop fluff #illit #illit minju #male reader #kpop fanfic

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shitsndgiggs · 2 months ago

Note

Hi Kaya! So yesterday night I got drunk for the first time, I was wondering maybe if you could do a hector fort one. Where he’s with his friends while she’s at her friends house having a little girls night with her friends and she’s just completely out of it but her friends have taken care of her but she just wants hector and she’s just all knocked out and stumbling everywhere and stuff. And he comes too pick her up after a face time call with her and her friends. And he’s so amused and concerned at the same time cause he’s never seen her like that. Love your fics so much!❤️I have the worst headache😭😭😭

A/N: Ooooh, getting drunk for the first time?! I hope it lived up to all your wild expectations. Nothing unexpected happened, right? If so, SPILL THE TEA🥳

DRUNK DIAL - HÉCTOR FORT

Héctor picking you up from a girls night

Héctor Fort x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Laughter filled the living room as the night carried on, the scent of pizza and popcorn lingering in the air.

My friends and I had been planning this girls' night for weeks, and it had turned out to be just as fun—and chaotic—as we’d imagined.

Drinks flowed freely, and soon enough, I found myself far more than just tipsy.

“Y/N, how many have you had?” one of my friends, Mia, giggled, watching me attempt to sit down but completely miss the couch and flop onto the floor instead.

I laughed hysterically, though my coordination was shot, and I was barely able to stay sitting upright. “I dunno,” I slurred, waving her off. “I’m fine! Totally… fine.”

Mia and the others exchanged amused glances, but I could see the concern creep in. They knew me well enough to know I rarely drank this much, but tonight had been one of those nights where I just let go.

Except now, I was paying for it by stumbling around, completely out of it.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re good?” My other friend, Lily, asked, kneeling down to try and help me up. “You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

“I’m not passing out!” I insisted, although my words were slurring beyond recognition. “But… I want Hector.”

They laughed softly, but it was clear I was no longer in any state to take care of myself. As much as they loved me, they weren’t about to let me destroy their apartment in my drunken stupor.

“She’s never been this drunk before,” Mia said, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and worry. “We should call Hector. She’s not going to calm down until she sees him.”

“I’ll FaceTime him,” Lily said, grabbing my phone from the coffee table. “Hopefully, he’s not too busy.”

As I flopped back onto the couch, I heard the familiar ringing of FaceTime, and then suddenly, Hector’s face appeared on the screen.

I could barely focus on it, but just hearing his voice made me smile.

“Hey, man!” Lily greeted him, trying to sound casual but clearly looking for help. “Um, we’re having a little bit of a situation here…”

Hector, who was out with his friends, looked confused at first but quickly concerned when he noticed the background noise and then saw me stumbling around behind her. “Is Y/N okay? What happened?”

Mia leaned over, showing me slumped on the couch, giggling at something none of them understood. “Yeah, she’s just… really, really drunk. We tried to take care of her, but she keeps asking for you.”

Hector blinked, his concern deepening, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “She’s that bad, huh? I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Neither have we,” Lily said, shaking her head. “She’s out of it, man. Do you think you can come pick her up?”

Hector laughed softly, though his voice was still filled with worry. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. I just need to wrap up here with the guys. Keep her safe until I get there, okay?”

“Of course,” Mia said, waving off his concern. “She’s not going anywhere. We’re just… trying to keep her from knocking over any more lamps.”

I barely registered what was going on, my head fuzzy and thoughts jumbled, but the sound of Hector’s voice brought a small comfort.

I tried reaching for the phone, slurring, “Hector… where are you? Come get me!”

“I’m on my way, baby,” he said gently, his voice calming even through the screen. “Just sit tight.”

Twenty minutes later, I was still sitting in the same spot, though my friends had managed to get some water into me. Just as I was about to attempt to stand up again, there was a knock on the door.

“He’s here,” Lily said, jumping up to answer it.

Hector stepped inside, and the second I saw him, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Even in my drunken haze, just his presence made everything feel a little less chaotic.

He was dressed casually, jeans and a hoodie, but the look of concern on his face was unmistakable.

“Oh my god, you actually came!” I exclaimed, stumbling toward him. “You’re my hero.”

Hector chuckled, catching me before I tripped and faceplanted into his chest. “Whoa, easy there,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around me to steady me. “You’re a mess.”

I looked up at him, blinking slowly as if trying to process his words. “I’m fine. Just… maybe a little too much wine.”

“Maybe?” Hector raised an eyebrow, amused, but he was still clearly concerned as he helped me sit back down on the couch.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Mia admitted, giving Hector an apologetic look. “We didn’t know she’d drink this much.”

“It’s okay,” Hector assured them, sitting beside me as I clung to his arm. “I’ve got her from here.”

My friends gave him grateful smiles, and I slurred something about being perfectly capable of standing up on my own—right before I nearly fell off the couch again.

Hector chuckled, catching me before I could fall. “Alright, alright, I think it’s time to get you home,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “You’ve had a long night.”

“Only if you carry me,” I teased, though my voice was far too slurred to sound coherent.

Hector sighed but with a fond smile. “Of course. Let’s get you home.”

With that, he scooped me up into his arms, and I leaned my head against his chest, feeling more comfortable than I had all night.

Even through the drunken haze, I felt safe with him, like everything was going to be okay now that he was here.

As he carried me to the car, my friends waved him off with thanks and promises to check in tomorrow.

Hector placed me gently in the passenger seat, buckling me in as I blinked up at him with a sleepy smile.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I murmured, my head lolling back against the seat.

“I know,” Hector replied, smiling softly as he brushed a kiss to my forehead. “But you’re going to hate me tomorrow when you have the worst headache.”

“I don’t care,” I mumbled, half-asleep already. “Just… don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said gently, brushing a hand over my hair. “Let’s get you home.”

And with that, Hector drove us back, his hand never leaving mine, even as I drifted off to sleep, the comfort of him being near making everything feel a little less blurry.

#football imagine #football x reader #hector fort imagine #hector fort

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b3ach-bunn7 · 18 days ago

Text

FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND

You find Dabi bleeding out on your front porch. Despite recognising his face from the five o'clock news, you take him in.

angst, villain dabi, quirkless reader, Dabi POV

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

He should’ve killed you the minute he’d woken up.

Left your house burning blue with you inside of it, before you even had a chance to run. But it had been Dabi who’d passed out outside your house, and it had been you who lugged him inside, lanky bones and all, so he felt some obligation not to do it. He was barely conscious, just awake enough to hear you mumbling curses under your breath as you scrounged through your cupboards for a first aid kit.

It wasn’t a nice way to go, bleeding out on a random street. It was embarrassing, the famed cremation villain dying to a knife wound that hit a little too deep. He’d killed the man who’d stabbed him, of course, but that fact that he would kill Dabi was what had him praying to a God he didn’t believe in that he’d live. Maybe it was a fitting death. A person like him, bleeding out with the dirt of a flower bed slipping down his shirt, only the sounds of the night echoing in his ears.

And then you appeared.

Wearing scrubs that fit too loosely over your body, a puffer jacket and a scarf covering the lower half of your face. He had enough energy to wonder why someone like you, someone that looked down at him with so much worry etched on your face, was in a neighbourhood like this, one where people like him lurked. You dropped your bags, abandoned the scarf and the coat and dropped to your knees. He’d watched your scrubs soak with blood as your hands hesitated in front of him.

“God. Fuck. What do I- Fuck.” You grabbed your scarf and wrapped it tightly around his chest and then you slipped your arms under his, groaning at his dead weight.

“This is my good deed for the day.” You huffed, starting the slow drag towards your home.

And he’d passed out after that, he thinks. Everything is very jumbled up but he supposed that’s what happens when you’re bleeding to death.

And when he woke up he thought he might be in heaven. A heaven that was very cluttered and full of way too many pictures hung up on the walls. His head was killing him, and his chest fucking hurt. He was sprawled on a couch too small for him and his legs were touching the floor. He tries to rise and he stops, immediately, cursing at the shot of pain that spreads through his body.

“Oh no, don’t get up! The stitches will pull.”

He turned his head to the source of the voice and it's you.

On your knees, scrubbing at the blood stains on your floor. The sleeves of your hoodie were pulled up past your forearms and you were wearing shorts that rode up your thighs. He would’ve made an inappropriate comment about the sight of your legs but he has no idea who the fuck you are.

“I- I’m a nurse so don’t worry, the stitches are done right. That’s for you, too. You should drink it, you lost a lot of blood.” You laughed nervously, pointing at the coffee table.

There was a juice box waiting for him. He didn’t grab it though. Just kept staring at you, silent.

“Uh. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You hand twitched like you’re about to offer it to him, but you decided against it.

There’s no way you don’t know who he is. Dabi’s face has been plastered on the news more times than he can remember, and his face isn’t one you can forget. He watches you now, your eyes flitting from his face to his chest. You sit back on your knees, rubbing at your face with your clean hand.

“I- I can make you some food. If you think you can stomach it.”

What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you know what he could do to you? How quickly he could kill you?

He moved to stand again and you got up that time, moving towards him. “Look, seriously, you can’t move. The stitches will open and I can’t deal with any more blood today.” You said.

Dabi cursed. You flinch at the deep gravel of his voice.

“I know you probably think I’m crazy. I just- You can stay, until you can move again. It’s fine. I just don’t want you dying in my house, please. Or on my driveway.” You breathed out, taking another step back.

Dabi looked at you again. You looked like he could take you out now, stitches and all. He’s sure if you were going to call the police, you’d have done it by now. And he can’t remember the last time somebody actually doted on him. So he made the incredibly stupid move of listening to you.

He reached forward and snatched up the juice. He popped it open with his thumb, downing it in one go, squeezing the carton to get it all out. Dabi threw the empty carton on the floor when he was finished. He leant his head back on the couch, and drifted off quickly into sleep.

The first few days are spent in and out of consciousness. The times he is awake, he doesn’t speak to you, not unless he has to. When you ask him what size clothes he wears, when you ask if he has any allergies. It doesn’t stop you from talking though. It’s all you do, whether to a friend on the phone or just to yourself.

The couch has become the place he spends most of the days. He doesn't move unless it’s for the toilet or to let you change his bandages. The one time he’d actually gotten up for longer than five minutes was so you could clean the couch, silently mourning the fact you’d have to get a new one once he was gone. His blood still stains your carpet though, faint but there, and he feels something he can’t describe at the fact a part of him will always exist between your walls.

The first time he does speak to you, he doesn’t even mean to.

“God, the lady at the pharmacy definitely thinks I’m a serial killer. I'm there for bandages and painkillers like, four times a week.”

You sigh and drop the shopping bags on the floor. You’re in your scrubs again, blue this time, as opposed to the green ones he’d stained with his blood. You run to the kitchen to grab a wet cloth and the antiseptic, and Dabi sits up gingerly on the couch.

He isn’t exactly healed, but you’d assured him once he could be conscious for longer than an hour that the cut wasn’t as deep as it seemed. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and his stitches still stung as he pushed himself up. YYou kneel in front of him, carefully unwrapping the bandages around his chest. You keep your distance, just close enough so that you can reach him. The bandages stick to his skin and you make quick work of cleaning it, dabbing it with antiseptic.

Dabi notices that you won’t ever look him in the eyes. Always darting around his face but never at him. You always linger on the scarred skin around his body, the staples hastily holding them together. You’re looking at them now, absentmindedly as you search through the bags for the bandages.

“My skin gross you out, lady?”

Your eyes do look up at him then, and Dabi feels like he should definitely talk to you more if you’re going to look at him like that. You laugh nervously and he tilts his head, blue eyes boring into yours.

“No, I just. Ha, no, I just haven't seen anything like it. The staples-”

Your hand touches one gingerly and before you can move it away he grabs it with his own. He lets his hand heat up, not enough to hurt you but enough to let that lick of fear inch up your face, and he grins. Your hand is soft against the calloused, scarred skin of his, and he rubs his thumb up and down the back of it, watching the shiver you try and hide from him.

“Did I say you could touch?” He raises his eyebrows and you snatch your hand back. You turn away, inching just that little bit away from him.

“You didn’t complain about my touching when I dragged you from off my front porch.” You mumble under your breath.

His grin widens at that. “You got a mouth on you. But it’s okay, you can touch me anywhere you want, baby.”

Oh, that look. You were cute, he’d admit. He loved those shorts you were always wearing. Made your ass look amazing.

Your cheeks turn a delicious red. “I- Shut up. Let me finish.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you finish.”

“My god. Are you twelve?” You huff, placing the dressing over the stitches.

Dabi just watches you. He enjoys the way you squirm under his gaze. “You’re brave, sweetheart. You know who you’re talking to?”

You don't respond for a few seconds. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

“Really? I’d say housing a villain in your house is pretty stupid.”

You say nothing, just gesture for him to sit up from the couch, where he was leaning against it. Like this, him sitting up and you still kneeling in front of the couch, he towers over you. It’s a compromising position, you fit in between his spread legs. Dabi can imagine you like this in another situation, maybe without the bandages and without that shirt you’ve got on.

You wrap the bandages around his chest silently. You finish, pinning it down so it doesn't come loose. You look back up at him. “It’s nearly been two weeks. If you wanted to kill me you would’ve.”

“Maybe I’m waiting until I’m all healed up. Really take my time with you.” He lets his voice drop, a low drawl.

You swallow. “I hope not. Would be a waste of my time if you did.”

Dabi scoffs. Your eyes trail back to his staples. He tugs at one and you wince. “Does- Does it not hurt?”

“Nah. Lost feeling a while ago. These staples are the least of my worries.”

After that little encounter, Dabi takes to annoying you anytime he can. You’re avoiding him, he can tell, and it’s pissing him off. You spend every day holed up in your room while he has to sit on the couch like a fucking idiot and just wait. Maybe for you to call the cops on him, maybe for him to commit some heinous crime because he’s so fucking bored.

It’s why he starts trying to piss you off. Purposefully loosening his bandages, whining about the pain. You don’t complain, just dutifully bring him water, bring him whatever stupid request he asks of you. You’re being too kind, and he knows it’s fake. He wants to see how long it takes until you break, until that pretty polite smile you throw at him turns into that delicious anger from before. He wants your real emotions. Not this fake shit that makes him want to set the couch on fire.

Maybe it’s fake, or maybe Dabi can’t accept anything from anyone, not without them expecting something in return. And until he figures out what that is he doesn’t give a shit what you think of him.

It comes quicker than he thought. Only three days later, after he spent the entirety of your work phone call turning the TV higher and higher, until the show he was paying no mind was so loud you had to walk out the room. You’d come back out twenty minutes later and there it was, that frown he was missing.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snap, snatching the remote off the coffee table to turn the TV off. Dabi just watches you, a small amused smile on his face.

You shake your head. “Don’t just fucking sit there. You’ve been trying to piss me off for the past few days and here, I’m giving it to you. Happy?” You yell.

You rub your eyes furiously. “I just- I don’t get it. I’m- I’m helping you, I kept you from dying. Why are you being suc-“

“Why?”

His voice is enough to silence you completely and he likes what little control he has over you.

“Why what?”

“Why the fuck are you helping me? I don’t understand you.” He says, watching you pace across the living room.

“Some fucking nobody in the middle of a shitty town in an even shittier apartment housing me. Why? Makes no sense to me, and I don’t like things that don’t make sense.”

You stop. You flalter slightly. He catches it, the way your hands twist in the hem of your shirt.

“What, you expected me to let you die?”

“Yeah. I do it a lot.”

“Yeah, well not everyone is a sick sadistic psycho like you are.” You snarl.

You seem to regret the words the second they leave your mouth. Dabi grins and you cross your arms and look away.

“Aw, don’t get all shy on me. I love that bratty mouth of yours.” You grimace at his words.

“Shut up.” You in breathe once. Purposeful and unsteady.

“I don’t know- Well I do know what you’re like. I guess all of Japan does. But I wasn’t going to let you just die on me like that. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Nobody deserves that.” You speak purposefully, trying hard to hide your emotion.

“And what are you expecting back?”

You look at him, then. And he sees something shift in your expression and you scoff.

“I don’t want anything back. I just did a good thing. I know that might be a foreign concept to you, but to us normal people it isn’t.”

So bratty. He’d shut you up if he could move without popping a stitch.

“Just.” You rub your eyes again. “Just stop trying to piss me off all the time. It’s working and it’s so fucking annoying.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to listen to you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact you’ve been living in my house for two week?”

“I don’t fucking understand you.”

“I don’t understand you. I mean, how much time and money have I spent on you? It took me ages to get all the blood out my carpet and my toilet. And you still fucked up my couch, even though I covered it up. You think I can afford a new couch? One not covered in blood? I just-“

You pause. Take another deep breath.

“I don’t really know why I’m doing this either. I feel weirdly obligated to. As a nurse, and all. And- I don’t want the hassle, and the attention that would’ve been brought at my door if i had called the ambulance. And I’m sure you wouldn’t have either. So just do me a favour and stop making it so difficult.”

He stares at you. The slump of your shoulders and he thinks the emotion he’s feeling is pity, or something similar. He doesn’t really know and he doesn’t really care.

But he still wants the healing, and he wants that really good ramen you made the other day. So he shrugs.

“Whatever.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Fucking hell.” You mumble, stalking off into the kitchen.

Things change after that. You slowly start to spend more time with Dabi. Which might be an overstatement. You sit on the loveseat beside him. Usually reading or catching up with work or throwing too much commentary at a show he’s watching. You catch him staring at your book once and you hold up the cover to him. The title reads, ‘The truth behind the Commission’.

“Quite the problematic read.” He nods and you smile slightly.

“I guess. I like this author. He doesn’t bullshit.”

“You hate heroes, then?”

You shake your head quickly. “‘No. Well. I don’t hate them, I just. There’s a lot of things wrong with hero society. A lot. And I think a lot of heroes get away with shit they shouldn’t because of that title. I don’t know. It’s all fucked, and I’m not gonna sit here praising them just because they do good things. Doesn’t make them good people.”

He doesn’t reply that quickly and you look sheepish. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

He makes a noise. “Nah, I loved your little anti-hero rant. The league could use a girl like you.”

Your face pales and he barks out a laugh. “Don’t say that!”

After that you start leaving books on the coffee table for him. He doesn’t thank you for it.

The second time Dabi decides he’ll trust you happens quickly. There’s a box of pizza in front of the two of you, and you’re both not paying much attention to the TV. He’s more looking at you, the way you twirl a strand of hair around and around your finger, bite at your top lip when you’re thinking. Then your face frowns.

“Ew. Pass me the remote.” You hold your hand out to him.

He looks at the TV, and there’s daddy dearest. It’s a documentary, he thinks. Some stupid shit that praises the worst man in the world because he’s a ‘good hero’. He’s got his reason to hate him. But the look of disgust on your face is more delightful than it is confusing.

“What? Not a fan of our number two hero?” The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth but the look on your face washes it away.

“Fuck no. There’s something about him I don’t trust. I don’t fucking like that guy.” You frown, quickly changing the channel. “I miss All Might.”

He doesn’t reply to that. He doesn’t know what he’d say if he did.

And then Dabi realises he actually likes being around you. Especially when you’re always staring at him when you think he doesn’t notice.

“You know, I bought you shirts, too.” You speak the words quickly and without making direct eye contact.

Dabi had taken to not wearing any, despite the fact you had bought him some. He only wore different sweats you’d bought him, slung low on his hips. He always ran hot anyway, and you never complained until now.

He grins. “Aw, this ain’t a pretty sight for you?”

“No, of course not!”

You face flushes and Dabi leans a little further down on the couch, letting his sweats drift a little lower. Dabi knows he’s fit, and he knows the distinct shape of his V line is what’s making you avoid his form on the couch entirely. He’s not stupid, he’s caught you looking before.

“Right, I didn't mean that. I was just wondering. You know?”

“Right, right. Don’t worry, baby, I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Be a doll and pass me that shirt, yeah?”

You nod. So obedient, he thinks. He grabs the shirt from your hand, letting his fingers drift against yours. You hand twitches slightly and Dabi smiles, sickly sweet.

“Thanks.”

“S’fine.”

When you give Dabi the green light to get up and move, he waits for you to go to work so he can thoroughly snoop around your house. He walks his way around the living room that he's grown too accustomed to. He doesn’t care about the kitchen or the toilet he’s been to a million times. Where he really wants to explore is your bedroom.

You’re so stupid. Letting a villain like him in your house. His hand trails over your dresser, the souvenirs and trinkets from holidays and birthdays. There’s even more pictures in here and you’re so loved he can feel it through the paper. You’re always smiling, teeth shining and impossibly bright and for a split second he wonders what you’d look like smiling at him like that.

Your room is quite messy and it doesn’t surprise him. Clothes littered all over the floor, books and a makeup bag scattered over your desk. Your bed is hastily made and your sheets are a soft pink. And he can see you on it begging for him so prettily, so obedient like you always are for him.

He opens your bedside tables drawers, searches through the junk for something. He doesn’t even know what. There’s old movie stubs and receipts held together with a bobby pin. A postcard from someone called ‘Becky’ in Italy. Some empty lip gloss tubes and a candle burned down to the bottom. Then he sees a small rock. Hidden beneath the postcard and a letter telling you to go to the opticians. Shiny and blue just like his eyes, his flames. He turns it in his hand for a second, the smooth surface cool on his skin, before pocketing it swiftly.

You don’t notice when you get home. If you do, you don’t say anything.

You only get bolder in your approach with him after that. You start sitting on the couch with him. You ask him stupid small talk questions. What’s his favourite colour, his favourite food. And if you see how incredibly weird the whole situation is you don’t comment on it, so neither does he. Dabi feels more like a roommate than a patient now. You both don’t bring up the fact he’s healed enough to leave. You tell him he needs a few more days and he lets you lie.

“It’s nice having someone else in the house.” You say one day.

The two of you were on the couch, just that bit closer than the time before. Dabi’s arm rests on the back of the couch, and if he moved just a little to the left he’d be touching you.

“What?”

You shrug. “I get lonely, you know? All my friends live miles away, and the same with my family. I don’t know anyone around here.”

You turn to him then, and shoot him a small smile.

“It’s nice having company. Makes my house feel lived in.”

“Even if it’s a big old villain?”

You roll your eyes. “Haven’t been very villainous though, have you?”

“It’s never too late, baby.”

It’s the beginning of the end when he starts to do stuff for you.

It’s nothing crazy at first. He sees dishes in the sink so he puts them in the dishwasher. There’s a load of washing in the washer so he puts it in the dryer. He's just bored. He hasn’t left this house in weeks now, and while he likes the stress-free environment, he’s starting to feel antsy.

And then he saw your face once, looking at the empty washer like he’d given you a diamond ring. And it felt good that he put it there. And Dabi decided it couldn’t hurt to pull his weight a little more around the house. If you’d look at him like that again he’d do anything you asked for.

You come home at three in the morning one night. Stupidly, he thinks. The area you live in is not a safe one, but it’s hardly his problem if you get kidnapped on your way back. When you walk through the door, the lights are all low and you stumble, mumbling curses under your breath. You turn them on and Dabi thinks you look perfect. Cheeks red from the cold, the dress you’re wearing slowly slipping up your thighs. The top is cut enough to make your tits look great, and you brush a strand of your hair out your face as you bend down to take your shoes off. He shouldn’t look, but really it’s all your fault for inviting a villain into your house. What did you expect?

You look up and your face lights up when you see him.

“Dabi! Oh my gosh, hey! I did- I thought you’d be sleeping.” You say the last word in a whisper.

And if that wasn’t tell enough that you were drunk, the way you almost fall walking to the kitchen is. You grab a water from the fridge, and Dabi watches as you down the whole thing in one go, drops of it dripping down your chin and your neck. You breathe heavily, chest heaving up and down as slump against the counter.

“God, I'm so thirsty. The drinks, I mean we had drinks. Of course! Mimosas and like, they were all pink and glittery. Can you tell I’ve been drinking?”

“Oh, not at all.”

You grin. “Okay! Good! And then, this guy kept buying me drinks. So many drinks. The pink ones again. And I drank them. They were good, though.”

You walk over to the couch and plop yourself next to him. Your bare thigh presses into his and Dabi lets it. He’s more focused on this little friend of yours buying you so many drinks than anything else.

“What guy?”

“Dunno. Some freak. I think- He was hitting on me. That's what my friend said to me.”

Dabi nods. “Mhm. You didn’t like him?”

You grimace, shaking your head. “Ew, no way. He’s- He was so blond. And like, preppy. It was gross. He was gross.”

Dabi snorts a laugh. You grin at the sight of it. “Blond and preppy not your type?”

“No. No. I like.” You turn to face him. You cross your legs on the couch, tugging your dress down as it hikes up. You look at him quizzically before nodding your head, like you’ve figured something out.

“Actually, you are my type.”

Dabi thinks he needs to get you drunk more. He likes the way you’re looking at him.

“Really?”

“Oh for sure. I like- You know like, emos.”

Never fucking mind.

“I’m not emo, what the fuck?”

You laugh, loud and boisterous. “You so are! The black hair and, and the staples are like piercings. I bet you listen to heavy metal. Do you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, leaning over to rest your head on the couch. Your eyes travel down to his torso, exposed in the vest he was wearing. You reach a hand up, tracing it down the lines of his muscles, over the scarred skin.

“Love your arms. So big. Can’t even wrap my hand around them.” You mumble. You demonstrate, taking a deep breath when your finger can't meet at the other side.

“And. I like your voice. So raspy. It’s hot as fuck. And your eyes. So blue. Like the ocean. Like hat billie eilish song.”

He huffs a laugh. You look up at him, eyes shining from the light of the TV. You smile softly, hand still burning a hole on his arm.

“Thanks if- for not killing me. And going all villain on me.”

Dabi hums. Sees your eyes trail down to his lips and back up to his face.

“Never say never.”

“Shut up. Don’t say that. You’d never kill me. I’m too loveable.”

“Too fucking full of yourself.”

“Wish I was full of you.”

Your hands cover your mouth the second you say the words and you sit up suddenly. Dabi barks a laugh, and you whine, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so drunk. Oh my god.” You groan.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can make your dreams come true.” He smirks.

“Stop. Now. Before I die of embarrassment.”

Dabi pats your shoulder. “S’fine, baby.”

You slump a little, yawning loudly. You glance down at his hand that still hasn’t left your shoulder. “You're so warm.”

“It’s almost as if I have a quirk that produces fire.”

You roll your eyes. You turn slightly and lean against Dabi. He stiffens slightly as you adjust yourself, pulling one of your throw blankets down over your body.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“Go sleep in your bed, you idiot.”

“No. Don’t tell me what to do.”

“The fuck?”

You don’t say anything. Dabi looks down and your eyes are shut. He can feel your bare skin on his body. It’s so cool in comparison to his. That’s why he lets you stay there. He’s warming you up and you’re cooling him down. And you just stay there, sleep soundly like he isn’t a murderer, like he isn’t worth the same as the dirt on your shoes.

The next morning you don’t speak of it. Just rush yourself to the bathroom because, like an idiot, you went out on a Wednesday night like you didn’t have work the next day.

Dabi realises he needs to leave when you almost kiss him.

You’re not drunk this time. He wishes you were. Wishes he could blame it on the alcohol coursing through your veins and not something else. This time, you aren’t both sitting on the couch like you usually are. You both stand at the big window in your living room, Dabi smoking a cigarette and you looking at the stars. It’s late, but it’s a weekend, so you don’t have anywhere to be. You’ve been talking and he’s been listening. The occasional response. He’s more focused on you, on the way the moonlight streaks across your face, the way you’re wearing one of the shirts you bought him. It dips down past your waist and he feels like you're his.

“Oh my god! You’ll never guess who came into work yesterday.” You turn to him excitedly.

“Who?”

“Remember I was telling you about that guy who kept buying me drinks?”

Dabi nods. “The blond one who’s not your type?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. He came in because he had to get tested for an STD! Can you believe that?”

Dabi scoffs. “Yes. Any guy buying pretty girls drinks is a guy that sleeps around.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” You coo.

“Gorgeous.” It’s meant to be sarcastic, but it comes out much more real than he’d hoped.

“Well, it’s no matter. I wouldn’t have gotten with him, drinks or not. I'm safe from any STD’s.”

Dabi takes another drag of his cigarette. “So harsh. It’s what’s on the inside that counts, I thought.”

“Not when it comes to a hookup. And not when there’s literally some-“ You cut yourself off.

“When there’s what?”

“Nothing. Shut up.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. He turns so he’s facing out the window completely, resting his elbows on the windowsill. He presses the cigarette into the wall beneath it.

“Well, desperate times, baby. You wouldn’t believe some of the girls I’ve hooked up with.”

“I find it hard to believe you struggle to hook up with people.”

Dabi barks a laugh at that. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “You're hot. Isn’t that all guys need to hookup?”

“The whole ‘wanted villain’ thing scares people off. Usually.” He gives you a pointed look. “That, and the scars.”

You look at him and gesture at him to face you. You’re looking at him so intensely he feels nervous. Dabi, a serial killer with more kills under his belt than you can imagine, is nervous because of a silly little civilian.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“What’s right with them? They’re ugly, and they’re being held onto my face with fucking staples. Freaks people out.” He shrugs.

You furrow your brows. You look at his face, his arms, his chest. Where yes, he isn’t wearing a shirt again. The scar across it from a knife wound that feels years away.

“Shut up. Do you actually think that?”

Dabi tilts his head. “You don’t?”

“Of fucking course I don’t. They- You’re hot as fuck! I don’t understand why your scars would change that?” You splutter. And you look angry for him and Dabi feels his chest tighten.

“It’s alright, baby. I don’t care. My dick still gets wet when I need it to.”

You wince. “Ew, Dabi. That’s gross.”

“You’re gross for having a crush on a villain.”

You blush. “Shut up. I don’t have a crush on you.”

“Sure, sure.”

Dabi can hear the sound of cars a few streets down. The breeze is light, and he can feel it rustling with his hair. He wonders if you notice the white of his roots peeking through. If you look enough to notice.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he feels your hand on his arm. Trailing up and around the divide of skin and scars. Your fingers trace over the staples. You touch him so gently. So softly. He wants to rip your hands off and lean into them all at once.

“Did I say you could touch?” He speaks quietly. You smile slightly, looking up at him for a second.

“I don’t hear any complaints.”

You brush against the panes of his chest. Dance across the scar that will only ever remind him of you. Dabi thinks he leans into you. He wonders if you notice. You move up the sharp lines of his collarbone, the curve of his Adam’s Apple. And then your hands rest on his face. And they’re softer than his will ever be, free of the marks of his childhood and his days burning to quieten the noise in his head. Your hand curves against his cheek and he wonders if you can feel his heart beating as heavily as it is.

Your fingers brush under his eyes. The small patch of purple skin that rounds them, like ever present eye bags.

“Your eyelashes are so pretty. So long. I’m jealous.” You murmur.

Dabi doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to.

And then you look at his lips again. Then back up at his eyes. And you look at him with so much emotion that he wants to gouge his own eyes out so he never has to think about it again. Never has to see you looking at him so tenderly. And when you lean forward, just that bit more, hand still on his face, he takes a breath.

And then your phone rings, and the moment is shattered. You curse under your breath, fumbling around for your phone. You smile sheepishly as you brandish it at him.

“I’m sorry. It’s my mum. Give me a second.”

The two of you don’t meet at the window again. Dabi falls asleep to the sound of your voice in the next room.

He wishes you were horrible. Wishes you were annoying, or ugly, or maybe Endeavour’s number one fan. Instead you’re not. You’re funny and you’re a good cook. You’re fucking stupid for letting him into your life. You’re so kind. You start bookmarking the parts you think he’d like in the books you leave him and he wants to turn the pages to kindling. You talk to him like you actually give a shit what he has to say. Like you give a shit about him.

Dabi wants to leave a mark on you like you’ve left one on him. Because he’s seen the pictures hung around your house and you’re loved. You have your people, you have a place. You don’t need him. But Dabi? He hadn’t been to the league in however many weeks, and he hadn’t heard a peep. Nobody cares about him. Nobody has his picture up in their room. Dabi could’ve bled out in your driveway all that time ago and nobody would give two shits.

He wants someone to give two shits about him. He wants you to give two shits about him. And it’s a thought that keeps Dabi up every night. Legs still impossibly too long for the couch, as all he can think about is how you’ve ruined him. You’re too fucking good for him. And he knows you’ll soon realise that.

That’s why he leaves.

Dabi doesn’t know what you expected. That he’d stay? That you’d live together like this forever? He’s fucking realistic. He knows this goes nowhere. There’s a blue collar prick working in some construction site you’ll end up with one day. A man who you can introduce to your parents, one who won’t stain your carpets with his blood, who you can hang up on your walls.

Dabi takes nothing except for the clothes on his back. He waits until he knows you're asleep on those ugly pink sheets and he slips out silently. And he doesn’t look back as he walks away, as the sounds of life hit him properly for the first time in forever. He doesn’t look down at the front porch where he’d almost died, not at the flowers he’d destroyed when he’d collapsed on top of them.

He leaves before he can destroy everything else. Before he destroys you. You and your soft hands and your piercing gaze. He hates you. He hates you so fucking much he feels flames licking at his clothes at just the thought of you.

When he makes his way back to the league, nobody says much of anything. He stalks his way back to his own room. There’s no pictures hung up on the walls. It’s unbearingly small and it feels so lifeless. He lays down on a bed that fits him perfectly. Digs in his pockets for your stupid fucking rock, the same colour as his eyes, that you had hidden in that drawer.

Dabi throws it across the room. He watches it hit the wall, skid under his dresser. He leaves it there.

——————————————————————-

yo ah really thought u could fix him 🤣🤣 I’ve been too nice to u guys recently so I had to mix in some angst 🙏 this is much longer than usual so I hope u like!

btw recently every title of the fic is based on the song I listen to while I write it so I highly recommend listening to it while u read these :P

I have been posting an INSANE. Amount. Like I think I posted once a day all last week and it’s all been about Dabi 😭😭 I’m very busy this week, so I fear my streak might be lost

lemme know if u want a pt 2!

#fluff #oneshot #touya todoroki x reader #b3ach bunn7 #dabi/reader #bnha touya #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi mha #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #mha #mha x reader #angst #mha angst #toya todoroki x reader #mha todoroki

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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago

Text

My person (Charles Leclerc)

Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.

Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.

"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".

You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.

Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.

"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.

"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.

Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.

If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.

Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.

Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.

He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.

"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.

"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.

"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.

"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.

When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.

By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.

He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.

"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.

"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.

"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".

"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.

"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.

"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.

"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".

Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.

"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".

Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.

"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".

His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.

"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?

Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".

The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.

Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.

"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.

The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.

"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.

In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.

"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.

Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.

"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.

"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.

"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.

"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".

Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.

"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.

Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".

"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.

"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.

"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".

"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".

Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".

"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.

"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.

"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.

"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.

"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.

"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.

Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.

The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.

"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.

"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.

"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.

"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.

"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.

"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.

Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.

When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.

"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.

Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.

You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.

"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.

"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.

"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.

"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.

You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.

Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.

"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.

"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.

"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.

To him, it meant the world.

You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.

After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.

"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.

Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.

Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.

The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.

This was a sight you could get used to.

"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.

"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.

"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".

"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.

"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.

"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.

Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.

"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.

"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.

"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.

"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.

"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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bones4thecats · 8 months ago

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Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy Characters: Toffee of Septarsis, Bill Cipher, and Lord Hater Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: Much like with my Vivziepop pieces, I will have the species of the reader underneath their header images. I had no ideas for HIM since I couldn't find a good connection for a reader and him in the relation to the girls context. I hope you do like this first creation of mine! Have great rests of your nights/days!

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Mewman! Reader ; Big Sibling of Moon Butterfly and Aunt of Star Butterfly

☄️ As the eldest child of Queen Comet Butterfly and Count Lazlo Marmalade of Lushreach, you were always held into high regards when it came to political affairs

☄️ While your parents mainly handled the more detailed affairs, you would watch over Moon as she aged. From looking over her when she was a toddler till when she grew old enough to organize herself into the many issues your kingdom faced

☄️ During those many years, you had held her hand throughout every single hardship that came her way. And you planned to hold her hand throughout this war that the Mewmans and Monsters faced

☄️ And even during these kind of dire situations, you always stayed strong to your family. But, when your mother and father decided to pass you up for your sister, saying she would fit better as the ruler, you snapped

☄️ You knew the only reason they chose her was because she was more like them; close minded on Monsters and Mewmans regaining trust in one another. While you were far more accepting and willing to work with the Monsters

☄️ Jumbling up all your stuff and jumped down from your room's window before sliding and sneaking outside with expect parkour practice, you landed by the woods and looked back at your sister's window, seeing the light turn off

" I am so sorry, Moon... but I cannot stay in such a corrupted land any longer... "

☄️ During your expedition to find some kind of Monster civilization, you had dodged many forced from your kingdom, each speaking of how your family needed you back home, much to your annoyance

☄️ It was during this travel that you came across an injured Septarsis, one that you learned the name of, Toffee. And, during your many years of living alongside one another, you shared your life stories, from your childhoods to your wishes, it was all out in the open to show your trust

☄️ Toffee wasn't very big on the royal family, viewing the abuse of power they held as illogical, and eventually viewing the magic they hold as overkill. But, for some weird reason, you didn't bother him

☄️ And he had to admit, watching the little offspring of his enemy Moon Butterfly look at you in shock as she tried fighting her blood made him smirk

" Uhm- Toffee? Why are you smiling at this? Isn't Y/N supposed to be just grabbing the wand and coming back here? " " Oh, you'll understand in a few seconds... "

☄️ Star was trying not to harm you, sending minor spells at you, trying to just knock you on your butt so she could just ask you why you had left and why you were siding with Ludo and the rest of his gang

☄️ Once she did, she was shocked to see that the markings on your cheeks, the ones that matched your mother's, but they were faded and covered with thin-lined x's

☄️ You then burst up and kicked the young girl away, bidding farewell as you pocked your cheek and stuck your tongue out mockingly before winking at where the camera laid for Toffee and the forces to see

" I-Is she...? " " I told you. You would find out soon... now! Y/N, I would like to congratulate you on retrieving such an important tool; Star's mistrust of her mother. Good job, my royal. "

☄️ Smirking at your husband, you pecked his cheek and looked at the boys as you handed Ludo a small portion of magic sealed from Star's wand, and just this amount would be good for now

☄️ Toffee then looked at your marks, which slightly glowed with magic... how troublesome could it be if that little brat got to your mind? He didn't want to even think of that...

Human! Reader ; Older Cousin of Dipper and Mabel Pines (Early-30s)

👁️ Being only a baby when the incident occurred between your father, Stanford Pines, and your uncle, Stanley Pines, you had often questioned the point of why there were so many weird things happening in your small town

👁️ Gravity Falls always had small details that made no sense to you, and as you grew up being raised by your money-obsessed uncle, you had written these things down in a journal that you had numbered 4 with a hand-print that, by what your uncle said, was your father's

👁️ You always had these small visions growing up, from seeing some kind of weird gnomes around the woods to seeing a kind of large minotaurs (which were supposedly called 'MAN-otaurs for some reason?)

👁️ But none of those compared to the small triangle man that appeared in your dreams and would mess around with you from time to time as you grew older

👁️ And, when your little cousins, Dipper and Mabel Pines, had come by to spend the summer at the Mystery Shack with you and your uncle, these visions seemed to happen more often and get more and more vivid

👁️ This 'demon' has you labeled him, had been caught by you staring at your cousins as they slept for weeks, and because of the worry you felt for the two, you began to lose sleep, alarming your family and friends

👁️ Eventually, after being scolded by Stanley and having been forced by Mabel and Wendy to lay down for at least a couple hours, you had fallen into a deep rest as Mabel's pig, Waddles, laid beside you

👁️ You had awoken inside of a dark field, one that you had been in multiple times beforehand, and hearing the very light-sounding maniacal laughter of a triangle demon you called a 'friend', you turned around

👁️ A flaming yellow triangle appeared and allowed the 'one-eyed Dorito' as you called him to be summoned

👁️ He adjusted his bowtie and floated with his cane leaning against literal air as you groaned and motioned for him to come nearby, making him laugh and ask if you missed him

" Oh, I didn't miss you par say... I just missed doing THIS! "

👁️ Wrapping your arms around his frame you wrestled the three-sided demon into the grass and made him laugh at your actions, his arms and legs flaying about to try swatting you away without any use of his powers

👁️ Once you finally stopped wrestling the demon, or rather, stopped wrestling Bill, he had popped his hat of his head and began to ask you the questions you always said you had no comment on

" So, about the two flesh-bags your related too. " " You mean my cousins? Dipper and Mabel? " " Yeah! Pine Tree and Shooting Star! They've been getting far too close to my plans, and you know what happens to those who get too close. They go- "

👁️ Holding his palm up to the sky, he made a small figurine of an unknown man before lifting his opposite hand and smashing it, making a paint-like substance flay onto yours and his 'faces'

" SPLAT! And, I know how much you care about those life-forms. Now, since your father and uncle aren't in my reach anymore, I figured that you could talk to them about maybe taking a couple days off from monster-hunting, y'know, and allow me to work on this more~ " " Bill. We've talked about this once and we've talked about it a million times- " " Actually more like 7, but go on... " " A million times. Anyone with a somewhat functioning brain like Old Man McGucket's can notice how stubborn they- well, Dipper is on unraveling this town. It'd take a miracle to show him enough to get him to back away from his mission. " " Yeah, a miracle. Interesting point, human. "

👁️ Cocking an eyebrow and holding your hand out as if to grab something, Bill narrowed and widened his one eye largely as a small cat with silver hair and yellow highlights appeared in your hands, obviously with one eye that's colors were opposite (white <--> black)

👁️ Smiling and petting the demonic-looking feline, you looked back at Bill and held the cat as he made a ball of yarn to play with the animal, underneath his eye a small pink flush growing

👁️ You were by-far the most entertaining human he had ever met- even if you were related to that traitorous man you had to call your father

Alien / Star-Nomad! Reader ; Wander's Older Sibling and Main Guardian

⚡ Your younger brother is a very energetic being, and if you were for certain, you'd call him the most energetic being in the whole Universe

⚡ You had spent most of your life watching over your brother as he and his friend, Sylvia, spread themselves around the many different worlds during their travels. With you being the one who had to get them out of many bad situations

⚡ But, a few years prior, you had given the two permission to travel on their own, meaning they could not afford to get into massive trouble since you wouldn't be there

⚡ They had been doing well as you traveled on your own, and during one of your more random leaps to another world, you had met a small eyeball with a tiny body who called himself 'Commander Peepers'

⚡ You had stared at the guy and cocked an eyebrow and heard a yell of Peeper's name, making you both look up in shock, though yours was hidden far better

" L-Lord Hater! To what do I owe the pleasure? " " You owe everything to this pleasure! Also, we're out of cheese dip. "

⚡ The cloaked man had looked up at you and lightly tilted his head before looking down at you and furrowing his eyebrows in both frustration and confusion

" Who is this, Peepers? " " I'm not sure myself, Sir. They had just appeared out of nowhere. " " You! Who are you?! " " I'm Y/N. Intergalactic Traveler. "

⚡ Lord Hater looked at you up and down, you looked like what the average Star-Nomad would appear, but you had a height advantage, maybe being a couple heads shorter than the Lord himself

⚡ You looked right back at him and scoffed lightly before asking him such a bold and broad question that not many would dare ask on that planet

" Why do you look like some kind of rock-emo with a deep voice? "

⚡ Commander Peepers looked at you in shock and back at Lord Hater, fear consuming his soul as he wondered one thing and one thing alone; How in the name of everything did you just ASK him that?!

⚡ Lord Hater began to chuckle and smirk at you, his skeleton eye glaring at you as they glowed lighter green in irritation

" Why do you look like some kind of wannabe villain? "

⚡ So, to sum it up, your first meeting wasn't the best one...

⚡ But, after a few more attempts to be civil to one another landed you a part as a new member of the Hater Army, your spot laying alongside Commander Peepers, though you were more of a spy than anything

⚡ And life was doing pretty well, you and Lord Hater had begun to court and try getting your traits to collide and mix well with your new lives together as Peepers had to keep you from snapping the hot-head's neck every week

⚡ When Wander, the brother that you had sent away, came back and found you alongside Lord Hater, his eyes sparkled; had you found someone that you loved like him?!

⚡ Sylvia and Hater do not get along at all, only putting up with one another for you and Wander, since they both knew how dear you guys were to one another

⚡ Commander Peepers and you always have to keep Hater from jumping up and trying to kill Wander for his antics, such as trying to play tag with him, resulting in you taking the day off and heading to a nearby planet

⚡ He and Wander see each other far differently

⚡ Wander adores your lover, whenever you ask him what he thinks of the Lord, he always laughs and gives you an honest and optimistic opinion as you smile and laugh at his small story of his last game with him

⚡ Hater on the other hand, does not share well things. Instead, it results in him whining about how annoying your younger brother was, and that turns into a sob story of a failed accomplishment, which led to him being curled in your lap with a large pink blanket around his frame

⚡ While they may not have the best bond, Hater can put up with your brother if it means you'll stay by his side. You're the best thing he had ever held to himself, alongside his planetary conquers of course!

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months ago

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While the psychological mindfuxking Host puts Darling through in order to wear them down into being his co-host is honestly one of the most fun things to write, I live for Darlings who were never appreciated in their own time and suck up all the praise he gives them for their talents.

Crafty Reader who also dabbles in a bit of inter decorating winds up on Host's show and their immediate first thought is "Damn, bitch- You host a game show on this stage?"

It's cute- but a little outdated. Where's the passion? The irritatingly bright neon signs that burn their eyes from a mere glance. Potted plants??? Anything??

Normally Host isn't one to tolerate guests that interrupt his opening speech, but as Darling goes off on their tangent Host is left stumped - stupefied, damn near mesmerized by that fire in their eyes. He can't say they aren't wrong either- Props come and go as Host wishes, but the stage is a bit lacking without them. Not contestants don't stick around long enough to point it out, but with his newest and top pick for co-host right in front of him perhaps it's time for a few changes.

"Congratulations! You won today's show Give our fans a big smile and wave goodbye to our losers."

"I won?...but you didn't even ask me any questions."

"Oh, you- If answering questions was the only way to win here no one would."

Darling is whisked away by stage hands into a bedroom- The room is deprived of any furniture beyond a bed, a large chest propped against the farthest wall, and a table upon which an old sewing machine sits. It looks a bit like the one they had back home, but the label is made up of jumbled letters and symbols. How are they supposed to use the darn thing without any supplies anyway?

Darling inspects the chest and finds.... pretty much everything tucked away in their small bedroom, their real bedroom that they use for their projects. No construction paper, though.....

Oh. There's some.

Darling quickly discovers that whatever they require appears in the chest whenever they're vocal with their requests. On occasion, the chest acts without their say and pulls the thought from their mind before they're able to speak. It isn't long before the empty space is fully stylized to their personality and presences. Darling thinks they did a great job. The teddy bear on their bed believes so too.

.....When did that get there?

Darling may have won his show, but Host is the real winner when he see what Darling has done to his stage. Host are extended by another hour....or year with how long he brags to guests about Darling's craftsmanship. Time is a tricky thing to keep track of when the watches you wear flop between ticking backwards or at a snails pace.

"Thoughts on those name plates? Our brilliant co-host made them for you all- Are you lucky? I of course have my own, but- Oh, come now. I know this is top quality work, but there's no need to scream. Give our co-host a hand for all their hard work....Or lose both."

#Host my oc #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere imagines #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabble

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 2 months ago

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Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story.

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone?

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily.

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy.

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy.

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

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bunbunlovestowrite · 4 months ago

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♥︎𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜♡︎

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏?

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙱𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚃𝚘𝚙! 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘, 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚖! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

"Bye!" You call out to the last bus of kids going home, their faces pressed to the glass and you swear one kid licked the window. Gojo stood next to you, arms crossed with his blindfold pulled down around his neck. His white shirt was soaked from when the kids pranked him with God knows how many water balloons.

The other counselors had headed home when the bus left, leaving the two of you alone. The sun had given a golden glow to the world, tinting everything it touched.

Behind the two of you was the lodge. 2 floors with enough bedrooms for the counselors and a few bathrooms meant for two people. Gojo was your roommate for the summer, you can't count on one hand how many times you smothered him with his pillow to wake him up.

He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head, smirking at you. "You leaving now?" He asked, leaning his head back slightly. "No. I'm gonna clean up a bit." You tugged your sweater down slightly before walking up the lodge steps. He followed quickly.

"What? That'll take all night. You'll be here till tomorrow." He leaned over a bit to reach your eyes. "Exactly. That's one night all to myself. Loud music, a big cabin, I can clean in peace." You sigh dreamily at the thought. Gojo huffed and stuck his tongue out. "Cleaning isn't fun." He poked your cheek. "That's cause you never clean, Gojo." You giggle and poke him back.

He huffed again and rolled his eyes. "I clean!" Defending himself was hard when you opened the door to your dorm. Your side was neat and clean, with most trinkets packed up, while his was messy and you swear you heard his sock crunch when you picked it up.

"I heard your children screaming in here. 'daddy...daddy...help us'" you wave the sock at him. He gagged and swiped at the sock. "I can't pay child support right now." He tossed the sock in the bin behind him. "Broke." You say between fake coughs.

"How can men live like this?" you asked when you grabbed a shirt off the bed and saw countless crumbs fall off it. Gojo looked away in shame, scratching his cheek with a finger. "That's Geto's..." he lied. "I know it's not, because Geto is the cleanest person I know," you teased as you tossed the shirt at him.

You chuckled at his cry and grabbed your speaker. Stickers of various animated characters were peeling off it and its rose gold color was also peeling slightly. You needed a replacement, but this one had lasted so long and new ones were so expensive.

"When are you leaving?" You glance back at Gojo before connecting your phone to your speaker. He shrugged and sat on his bed. "Whenever my mom has someone get me." He laid back. You watch as his damp shirt lifted slightly, revealing his happy trail and an unshaved path of white hair leading below his pants. You blush and look away, mentally slapping yourself.

"uhm..y-yeah that sounds good." You jumble your words slightly and grab your speaker. "I'm gonna clean. Bye!" You practically scramble out of the room and slam the door behind you. Gojo raised an eyebrow but smirked, yanking his blindfold back up before going to sleep.

❦︎༒︎❦︎

It was some time later. The sun had gone down, and you had finished cleaning everywhere except the office. After tossing the broom into a closet, you threw yourself onto the couch to finally relax. The large windows in the main room revealed the high moon in the sky, casting its light on the massive lake, making it glitter.

You were snapped out of your trance when you heard a yawn and footsteps. Gojo walked in. His shirt was gone and he blinked one eye at a time. Shirtless Gojo was a sight you got used to, and oddly grateful to, during your summer here.

"You're up." He looked over at you, rubbing his eye. "Did anyone come by?" He dragged himself over and popped on the couch next to you. He grumbled and rested his head in your lap, cheek resting on your bare thighs.

"No. Sorry." You unintentionally whisper as he nuzzles against you. "Well, good thing I didn't get my hopes up." He grumbled while rubbing his thumb on your thigh. Your sweater's sleeves were rolled up and your skirt was slightly hiked up due to his thumb.

Your heart pounded slightly and his breath hit under your skirt, fading against your panties. You calm yourself and rest a hand in his hair, threading your fingers through it. "Well, now I'm stuck with you." You whisper again, making him chuckle.

His thumb rubbed your skin in circles, his eyes opened to look up at you. You were looking out the window so you didn't notice him. He blushed slightly at the angle. Your breasts were right in front of his face, a simple movement away from hitting him. But he was more focused on your face.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a gentle glow on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. He rubbed his head into your hand, feeling a knot in his stomach at what he was going to say.

The two of you went to the same college, but you never spoke before this summer. He saw you in the halls, a biology major hoping to get into neurosurgery, and you were beautiful to him. But finding a way to speak to you was harder than anything else.

He reached a hand up and his finger brushed your cheek. "You're so beautiful." His voice was barely a whisper. You looked down at him, slightly shocked but he felt the heat on your cheek. "What? Did you hit your head?" You laugh slightly, feeling his forehead.

"No. No, I didn't." He lifted himself and was barely an inch from you. "Don't freak out." His lips hit yours with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from Gojo. His hand cradled your head to deepen the kiss, his eyes shut. Your own eyes were wide for a second before they fluttered shut. You bring your hand up to cup his cheek.

He grinned against your lips and grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. "I knew you liked me." He glanced over at you from lidded eyes. "You did not." You laugh quietly. Gojo's smile grew slightly and he kissed down your neck, his hands sliding down the edge of your skirt.

"I want you. I want to taste you." Gojo was practically breathless as he kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on the supple skin. "Please. It'll feel so good." His hands tugged your skirt up, your white panties giving your obvious wetness away.

"Fuck Gojo." You gasp softly when his thumb pressed to your clit through the fabric, rubbing weak enough to make you want more. He knelt in front of the couch and held onto your thighs, spreading them more for him.

Gojo leaned in and kissed your inner thighs, nipping slightly at the skin. You didn't know what to do with your hands and you didn't want to pull at the leather so you placed them on his head, sorta grounding yourself by tugging at the white strands.

You shiver slightly when he slid your panties down and sneakily shoves them into his pocket. Thankfully you were too nervous to notice his thievery.

"O-oh God.." you clasp one hand over your mouth when he licked right up your cunt, groaning in ecstasy. You tasted like heaven to him. His cock was rock hard at his point. He ached, yearned, to yank his sweats down and fuck you into that couch, to make sure you couldn't walk straight for month. But he wanted this to be about you.

Gojo didn't waste a second and took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently with a few kitten licks here and there. The hand in his hair tugged harder, making him moan against your heat. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you closer, earning a yelp from you.

He chuckled against you before flicking his tongue against your clit in quick succession. Your hips writhed at this, your eyes widening. "Fuck Gojo! I-im gonna cum!" You yank his hair, pulling his face closer to your cunt. He moaned at this and kept his tongue at that pace.

Your back came off the couch and your toes curled. Heat spread across your lower body and you cum. "Gojo!" Your orgasm ripped through you and sucked any energy you had, your vision blurry with white spots.

Gojo kept his tongue flickering throughout your high and pulled away, slick connecting his lips to you until he licked it away. Your cheeks were hot and your legs trembled.

Gojo stood up, smoothed down your skirt, and then effortlessly picked you up bridal style. You rest against his chest and catch what breath you can.

He set you down on your bed, gently running his hand down your legs and taking off your shoes. He sat next to you and cupped your cheek, smiling slightly. "I would do more but Ms.Luncy took everything from the cabin." He tapped your cheek.

His smile grew when you held onto his wrist. He laid next to you on his side, cradling you close to his chest.

"Goodnight, Gojo."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

359 notes · View notes

xozombiee · 1 year ago

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“AFTER HOURS!” | W. BONNEY

✫| synopsis: bartending in the west gets boring at times, especially when the same old cowboys and outlaws come through those saloon doors everyday. you’d thought this was it..that’s the end of your story. then a certain outlaw, who’s name was getting around, walked through the doors.

warnings: porn with little plot, mentions of death, riding, little praise..it’s always gonna be there, female bodied reader, lowk psy rubbing??, hair pulling me thinks, idk what else

note: am i doing this instead of my homework?…yes. also do i know wtf women wore in the 1800s? err no. i tried tho! this is not proofread btw

In a dusty, sun-kissed town nestled amidst the rugged landscape of the west, there stood a saloon that echoed with tales of grit and resilience. behind the polished mahogany bar, you stood tall with a fiery spirit that matched the flickering glow of the oil lamps that illuminated the room.

you weren’t any ordinary bartender; you were a force to be reckoned with. with glimmering eyes that held mystery, and a rough demeanor that you used to command respect from every patron who dared to enter the establishment. your hands, calloused from years of hard work, moved with grace and precision as you served up drinks that could raise spirits or drown sorrows.

though the town was dominated by rough cowboys and outlaws, you had carved out your own place in their rugged hearts. they sought solace in your presence, and you became a confidante, offering a sympathetic ear to the broken souls who stumbled through the doors.

as the sun began its descent, casting an orange hue over the town, your saloon transformed into a sanctuary of camaraderie and laughter. the clinking of glasses and the lively banter of patrons mixed with the soulful melodies of a lone pianist, creating a symphony that echoed through the wooden walls.

but behind the facade of joviality, you carried your own secrets and dreams. you arrived in this town not long ago, escaping a past that haunted your every step. determined to leave a mark on the world, you had chosen the life of a bartending, finding comfort in the stories and journeys of those who crossed paths with you.

with swift movements back and forth behind your bar, you served drinks to the men celebrating..whatever it was this time. they sang along with others, their words jumbled and lazy, but undoubtedly filled with passion. you laughed as one of them sung to you, his eyes droopy and a crooked smile at his lips.

cleaning a few glasses, you watch as they all chat amongst themselves, if they weren’t still singing that is. a part of you yearned to have a life like theirs. to be free to do whatever you please, and not be told otherwise. you’d liked the idea of running from place to place and meeting new people. though, that’d never happen for you.

your back turns as you gather the clean glasses together, putting them neatly side by side. the sound of the saloon doors open, a sound you were used to by now. with your back still turned, you notice how most of the attendees in the saloon had gone quiet, watching as the person and their footsteps approached the bar.

turning back around, you come face to face with a taller man. he wore a shabby black hat, a maroon corduroy jacket that sat along his shoulders, and a gun at his waist. two actually, you noted as the jacket moved when he sat at the bar.

with a polite smile, you come closer, holding his gaze with yours. “evening, sir. what can i get you?”

he gives you a tight lipped smile, “whiskey, please.”

you hold his gaze for a second longer before glancing back at the people in the saloon. they stared with either fear, or curiosity in their faces. a scowl grows on your lips, muttering a small ‘drunkards’ under your breath.

the man watches as you place a clean glass onto the bar, and grab a bottle filled with brown liquid. his gaze moves to the drink as it pours into the cup, almost filling to the brim.

“you look familiar,” your voice chimes in again. “have i seen you in here before?”

he shakes his head, gaze falling back to yours. “nah.” he replies. “just passing through.”

with a sigh falling from your nose, you try to read his expression; he looked tired. you weren’t an idiot, it was obvious he was on the run. you’d seen his face on the posters, but didn’t know what his name was or what he was wanted for.

your fingernail taps against the glossy wood of the bar. trying to hide your sympathetic expression, you glance around the room. “if you need anything else, let me know, yeah?”

he nods, watching as you walk away to tend to the other customers. the way you moved was calm despite working in such an intense environment. his eyes trailed up and down your figure before taking a sip from his glass.

it seemed like hours passed as you worked. going back and forth behind the counter was time consuming as it passed so quickly. more and more people were leaving the bar as the early hours of the next day were coming.

as you went to grab some glasses from tables, you notice as the man before was still at the bar. his head was hung low, eyes trained on his glass. he’d had about three glasses of whiskey by now, only taking sips from time to time.

you’d noticed through the night how people tried to approach him. he’d usually brush them off, or making small talk that ended in peaceful silence. he wasn’t someone that was easily approachable to the blind eye. he held a strong, cold demeanor.

after gathering all the dirty glasses, and kicking the last passed out drunkard, you slide back behind the bar. you take the bucket of dirty glasses to the small sink, placing it inside before turning the water on. as it fills, you stare at it as your mind falls else where.

before it overflows, you turn the faucet off. you pour a little soap into the mix before drying your hands off to let the glasses soak. with echoing footsteps, you turn back to the bar and are face to face with the man of the night.

“want another, or is three enough?” you ask, a slight smile at your lips.

he glances up at you, studying your expression for a moment. his eyes drop back to the wooden bar, fingers tapping his halfway-empty-glass.

“this is fine.” he answers.

your elbows come to rest at the cool wood, chin in your palm as you watch him. you’d debated for most of the night to ask him what exactly he was running from. it would probably sound stupid considering how everyone and their second cousin knew about it. all except for you, as you didn’t look much into news and such.

he stares back at you, giving you the same energy within his gaze. his blue eyes analyze every bit of you, and you almost shudder at the sight of it.

“so, how long you been on the run now?” you ask, voice interrupting each of your own thoughts.

he brings the glass to his lips, downing the rest before replying. “months.” he mutters, not even phased by your abrupt question.

you hum in reply, “alone?”

“mhm.”

with his short and simple response, you laugh. it wasn’t out of humor, but rather more of irritation. you’d think someone as well known as him would talk more. most outlaws never shut up about flaunting their reputations. it’s different.

“you’re not a man of many words.” you say, not really caring about how he’d take your tone.

he shrugs, sucking his teeth a bit. “i’ve got nothing to say.”

you raise a brow, “tell me a story or something. i hear the same shit every night from my regulars. give me something new.” you request.

pouring a little more whiskey into his glass, you watch as his eyes dart to yours. “it’s on me.” you assure, giving him a smile.

the man sighs, tilting his head a little at the thought. what could he tell you? that he killed a man? that he fought a man in a saloon just like yours right before shooting him in the stomach out of defense? no..you’d probably already heard it anyways.

“what do you already know about me?” he questions, taking another sip.

your eyes squint at him, “i know you’re an outlaw on the run, obviously..and that’s about it. i don’t even know what the hell they call you.” you reply.

he chuckles, a small smile at his lips. “you’re probably one of the first.” he says. “just call me billy.”

with another hum, you nod slowly and give him your name. “billy..yeah, i think i did hear that once or twice.”

“well, either way, i don’t have many stories to tell.”

your eyes roll, a huff coming from your nose. “tell me why you’re an outlaw. i’ve heard like three different stories, and it can’t be all of them.”

billy smiles again, eyes falling from yours and to your lips for a split second. you watch him debate in his head before taking his hat off. he sets it on the empty stool next to him, running his fingers through his hair. he had brown shaggy hair that was sprawled all over his head.

“i killed a man. it was self defense.” he says, almost as if he was pleading his case.

you deadpan at him, “that’s all i get? not even a backstory?”

“there’s not much to it. he was making accusations at me..which weren’t entirely false, then he came at me. we fought over my gun, and i shot.” he elaborates, glancing at you with disinterest as if it was a meaningless story.

you fall quiet for a moment, brows raised while processing his words. that story was heard, but you didn’t know if it was the truth until now. the other stories were about robbing a bank and killing a bunch of people. hearing the actual story now..you couldn’t understand all the fuss.

a laugh falls from your lips, hand moving to pinch the bridge of your nose. “so, all this talk is because you killed a man that was attacking you?”

“yes, ma’am.”

your smile remains for a bit, eyes watching billy. “so, what now? you just gonna keep running?”

he shrugs once more, eyes kept on his glass. “probably.”

“have you at least slept?”

billy shakes his head. you chew on the inside of your cheek, contemplating multiple things in your head. if you offered him a place to sleep in the loft above your saloon, he’d probably laugh in your face. but, a part of you didn’t want him out on the street sleeping defenseless.

as a other sigh falls from you, you move away from the bar and stand straight. “i’ve got an extra room where i stay. wanna take it for the night?”

his eyes find yours, expression vague, “are you sure? i mean, i don’t wanna—”

“it’s fine. i’d feel guilty if i opened up tomorrow and my regulars are telling me you got killed in your sleep.”

billy focuses on you for awhile before taking one last sip. he lightly places the glass on the counter before moving to grab some money from his pocket.

your hand finds his wrist as he places it on the counter. “keep it. just take your ass upstairs while i finish up.”

he grins a little, grabbing his hat and standing from the stool. billy slowly moves to the door at the back of the saloon, opening it and disappearing from sight. you roll up your sleeves as you move back to the sink, dipping your hands into the soapy water to clean the glasses.

after about ten minutes, you make way up to your loft in the building. your footsteps slightly echo as you move toward the light in the living room. when you reach the floor, you watch as billy sits on the couch with his head thrown back on the edge while his hat covered up his face.

slowly approaching in front of him, you lightly kick his shin. he snaps his head up, eyes wide as his hat falls to his lap. he lets out a small breath in relief, making you smile. you watch as he sits up on the couch.

“scared the shit out of me.” he mumbles, putting that ragged hat on again.

you move to sit next to him, bouncing lightly on the cushions. “must’ve been too tired to hear me coming up the steps.”

he leans into the couch once more, eyes trained on the ceiling. you watched his expression and how he studied the whiteness of the panels above.

“penny for your thoughts?” you whisper, watching his eyes shift over to you.

billy shakes his head, scoffing a little to himself. “it’s nothing. just thinking.”

“about?”

“everything.”

you let your gaze falter, moving to the floor. “everything that’s happened?” you ask.

he nods, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. billy wants nothing more than to go back and stop everything that’s happened. to change what got him to this point.

but if he did that, he would’ve never met you. you were one of the kindest people to him since the incident. the way you carried yourself, much like him, was with confidence. he respected you, and that aspect of your personality.

“i understand what it’s like..kind of.” you say, patting down the wrinkles in your outfit. “i was never wanted, but i’ve done things. things i wish i could take back.”

billy watches as you speak, the way your lips move and the expression you hold shifts with each emotion running through you. he almost doesn’t understand what you’re saying. the only thing keeping him to reality was the fact you sounded serious.

he adjusts himself on the furniture, “what have you done?” he asks, a part of him afraid to know the answer.

“i’ve killed.” you reply, the tone of your voice dropping lowly. “it was in defense, like you.”

billy watches the way you bounce your knee against the flooring of the loft. the dress you wear moves along with it, and your shoe lightly taps.

“when did it happen?” he asks as his pure curiosity gets the best of him.

you look up at him, smiling a little. “i was fourteen.”

billy looks at you, empathizing with your situation. though he wasn’t that young when it happened, he still felt some sort of connection with your experience.

“i don’t regret killing him honestly, but i regret hurting my family and his. they didn’t deserve to go through that. it wasn’t any of their faults.” you say as you breathe out slowly.

in an small moment, his hand is on yours. it’s a light touch, like he’s afraid to hurt you. billy moves his other hand to the space beneath your chin, and shifts your head to look at him in the eyes.

his voice is light, “you were defending yourself. it wasn’t your fault either.” billy whispers.

the words make your heart swell. after everything, hearing those words made it all feel better. almost all the guilt left your veins. he was right after all. it wasn’t your fault. what that man did..you just did what you had to.

as he holds your gaze, you slowly inch toward him. his blue irises bore into yours, watching as you shift them to his lips. they were slightly chapped and held a small frown on them.

billy leaned closer to you and your breaths mingled, like two lights finding each other in the darkness. he could feel your heart beating against your ribcage, as all of his senses were focused on you and you alone.

he closed the distance, and his lips met yours. billy felt himself melt into you like a magnet. everything muted itself, and his hands made way to your waist. he pulled you onto him, your knees caging around his thighs.

your hands found their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. he tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin against his. the room seemed to dissolve around you as the only thing in existence was this. this perfect union.

time stood still, and you both wanted more, but neither wanting it to initiate it. then, with what restraint he had left, he pulled away, his lips still grazing yours.

he looks up at you, his eyes filled with worry. “im sorry, i didn’t mean—”

“shut up.”

pressing your lips back to his, he lets out a grunt in reply before melting into you once more. the warmth of you, your lips, your being that sat in his lap—he felt lightheaded. billy moved his hands to your waist again, slowly trailing them up your back.

you feel the buttons of your dress being undone. he stops right before taking the sleeves off, prying himself away from you. billy’s eyes look into yours for confirmation, and you give him a quick, impatient nod in reply.

with that, he pulls the dress off slowly. your lips trail from his own to his neck, putting the flesh between your teeth. he groaned, trying to focus on untying your corset.

as he removed it, he wasted no time to discard it to the floor, hands making way to take off the chemise you wore.

“all those months on the run got you impatient now, cowboy?” you mutter, laughing as he would struggle from time to time.

billy looks up at you, his gaze slightly hidden by his hat, “no, just none of the women i’ve been with wore this much underneath. i’m also not a cowboy, sweetheart.”

rolling your eyes, you grab at his wrists to stop him. he looks up at you, big eyes and all, causing the built up pressure in your lower stomach to worsen. “just leave it. i’m not wearing anything under, so don’t fuss.”

you watch him nod slowly as he started to stare, making no move to take off his clothes. “do i have to do it for you?” you whisper, hands undoing the brown suspenders on his shoulders.

he shakes his head, moving to unbutton his pants he wore. you watch the way he fumbles with them, sliding them midway down his thighs. billy’s hands eventually move back to your waist, bunching up your chemise to your hips.

billy’s eyes watch as your pretty pussy comes into view, sitting in his lap with such a prepossessing aura. he has to restrain himself from taking you right then.

his dick was hard and twitching, the length had an angry tip with its slit profusely leaking pre-cum. it looked painful and it was because of you. you. you wondered if you had power over him now for a brief second but you shake your head clear of these thoughts.

instead, you catch his lips again, the kiss slower this time. you raise yourself a bit so he can align himself to your entrance. the cool touch of his hand meets your cunt, sliding a finger through the folds and collecting the juices flowing from you.

he uses your slick and spreads it across your sensitive pussy. you took a deep breath of air into your lungs. this feeling was new, since no man you’d been with ever did this, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

a small groan falls from billy’s lips as he uses it to prep himself, guiding his hand along his cock and pumping it slowly. he was on the girthy side with veins on the underside of his cock.

you knew you would stretch around him, that your walls would be a perfect fit around his length. you were too impatient for any sort of foreplay; you wanted the stretch. you wanted him to make you dizzy with his cock splitting you apart.

billy grabs your hips with his unoccupied hand, bringing you closer to him. you let out a whimper as you began to sink onto him, eyes flicking to his. those blue ones he held were zeroed down to the place you both were connected now.

his hands are on either side of your hip, guiding you down on his length. it was after his cock was fully stuffed in you, that his self-control allowed him to almost whine at the feeling of you.

your hands are on his shoulders to support yourself. your fingers weakly fist his shirt as you begin to ride him, raising yourself a few inches before slamming down on his cock with a loud moan escaping your lips. he reached the deepest spot inside of you somehow. no one had ever done that. not like this.

his cockhead grazes your spongy spot as you fuck yourself on him. arousal and his pre-cum are smeared all over your thighs. this sight made billy’s breath hitch, something you didn't notice as you were too busy with your eyes closed and taking him. you looked completely dissoluted like this.

your hair was a mess now, your lips glossy and swollen, hands digging into his shoulder. billy felt himself become enraptured by you and this sight. it was something he could get used to..if he wasn’t an outlaw that is.

he pulls you closer to him. one of his hands is on your back, pressing you to him. his hips raise upwards to fuck you as he now lets out more vocal sounds of enjoyment.

watching him with a hazy gaze, you remove the hat from his head. you place it onto your own, grinning at how he stares up at you like you were the creator of all living beings and creatures on this earth.

moving one of your hands from his shoulder, you bring it to his hair and give some strands a tug. he groans, the vibrations of his chest transferring to his dick, which transferred to you.

each thrust of his was made for his selfishness in your velvet walls. the drag of his cock was perfect, his speed was unbelievable. it was like heaven itself, but without the pearly gates and clouds.

while stuck in your own brain, the feeling of teeth bring you back to reality. you let a shuddered sigh fall as billy digs into the collarbone that peaked from your square-necked chemise. he slowly kisses up your neck, bringing a hand to the back of your head.

“fuck..’s too good,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice even.

you laugh, making him groan a little. he looks up, watching as you bounce with one hand held on his hat to keep it on. “too good? were all your other girls shit?”

he lets out short breaths, his blue eyes studying the way you moved as if he was in a trance. billy would answer if he wasn’t on another planet right now. a planet where you were taking him so deliciously, almost to the point where he could pass out.

“fuck,” he says under his breath as your pussy clenches around him. “where do you want it?” his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.

you pant, “inside.”

billy doesn’t waste a second before obliging and quickening his pace, making the hat on your head fall lopsided. you could feel the pressure in you tightening, almost about to burst like a pipe.

he moves his thumb to rub at your clit, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart on top of him with a loud cry. your orgasm hits you hard and billy can’t hold it in any longer. he fucks into you for another minute, eyes squeezed shut as he groans out your name.

billy groans when you flutter around him as you cum. he’s thrusting his hips up into you with his newfound force. it requires you to tighten your grip on his shoulders to stay put as he empties his load deep inside you, his sweet moans echoing in the living room.

your cunt milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you. the both of you pause, your hands resting on his chest as you catch your breath.

he slowly eases his cock out of you. the both of you were breathing heavily as he pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. you wrap you arms around his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“wanna share my bed?” you whisper.

tags: @m0rphys

#xozombiee #YESS I FINISHED #tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid #save a horse ride a cowboy #coriolanus snow #RAHHHHHH #guys pls like #and subscribe #william h bonney

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katerinathesaint · 3 months ago

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next-door-neighbors!artrick when they find out someone bought the house next to theirs. they immediately start placing bets on who it might be that’s gonna move in. patrick praying and hoping it’s a hot milf and art agreeing but also mentioning it could be a geriatric man-

“man, i’m telling you, it has to be a hot milf, who else needs a nice little house with multiple bedrooms?”

“okay, first of all, an old man may need a few extra rooms for his caretakers-,”

“could you think positively for once? if it’s a milf, which it is, i could finally cross fucking a milf off my bucket list—,”

“dude, that’s so fucked up.”

“you’re thinking it too, don’t lie.”

and, you, a single mom to a set of twin girls, found the perfect house for you and your girls to live in. you have a good job, the girls are behaving well; everything is great.

especially the neighbors.

art and patrick had noticed the u-haul in the driveway and decided to take their chance. they so kindly offered to help move the boxes inside, to which you offered cold drinks and fresh sandwiches for their hard work. they helped hang up the tv’s around the house, put together new furniture, even helped with plumbing and electrical, because they knew how to do that for some reason? (they watched youtube videos just for you)

and they got along perfectly with your girls. despite them being a little reserved at first, the girls clung onto them, and who are they to say no to those cute faces??

artrick becoming babysitters for when you went out with your friends. they also came over when the girls were with your mom to keep you company. and they always did it in the best way!!

fucking. lots of it.

the first time it happened, it was kinda jumbled, as you had never had a threesome before, and patrick and art don’t think they’ve ever been so horny before. it becomes routine after that night.

patrick and art taking turns fucking your tight cunt, drooling over your body. who woulda thought they’d become such babbling messes?!?!? you did. you could smell the lust from a mile away. not that it was difficult, considering they had noticeable boners when they first spoke to you in your driveway.

they start staying over more, the girls have already accidentally called each of them ‘dad’ at one point. you weren’t mad, though. you loved it. the boys would take you out on official dates and stuff, it was all so nice!

and it stayed that way and there’s marriage between all three of you and your girls grow up to be the best people you could ever imagine and you’re a happy family who lives forever because i said so.

sigh😔😔 #needthat

#art donaldson #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #katerinathesaint

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nhlclover · 6 months ago

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𝐉𝐄 𝐓'𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐂𝐇

summary: being new to montreal, you find a connection with kirby despite your language barrier.

warnings: french!reader, use of french (all of it is translated), appearance from big play dave (david savard), abrupt ending

word count: 1.31k

As you weave through the crowd, desperately scanning the room for one of your coworkers, you can’t help but feel slightly out of place. The lively conversations around you are mostly in English, something you’re still trying to master. Coming from a small town in Northern Quebec, English wasn’t a language you came by often. You knew phrases sparingly, but if you attempted to hold a conversation in English, you knew it would end up with you confused and embarrassed.

You stopped at an empty table, setting down your drink and taking a deep breath. You remind yourself that moving to Montreal for work is a bold adventure, not a reason for anxiety.

“Hi, I’m Kirby,” a friendly voice interrupts your thoughts. You turn to see a dark-haired guy with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Your eyes widen in surprise, a flicker of panic crossing your face. Kirby’s smile wavers slightly, uncertainty creeping in as he tries to interpret your reaction. Is it possible you had a boyfriend?

“I…I’m sorry,” you stammer, your accent thick and your words halting. “I don’t speak English well.”

Relief washes over Kirby. He hadn’t misstepped; there was just a language barrier. The problem now was that his knowledge of French was limited to a handful of curse words he’d learned from his Quebecois teammates, while your English was just as basic. At that moment, Kirby regretted not going through French immersion in high school.

An idea passed through Kirby’s head as he spotted David Savard over your shoulder. “Can you wait here?” Kirby asked, slipping past you to chase down David. Kirby’s words came out quickly and jumbled, passing by you without giving you a chance to process them properly. However, you remained put, watching as Kirby stopped someone.

“Dave! I need your help.” Kirby said, pulling him aside. “ I met this girl, and she’s drop dead. But the only problem is she basically only speaks French. Can you translate for me, please?”

Kirby flashed David a pleading smile, watching David raise an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“Please, Dave.” Kirby urged.

David rolled his eyes, sighing. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

Kirby led David through some people and back to where you were thankfully still standing.

“Bonjour,” David said, giving you a polite smile.

A small smile appeared on your lips upon hearing your native language. “Allo,” you replied.

David turned to Kirby, waiting for him to tell him what he wanted translated next. “Oh, right,” Kirby said, pulling his eyes off of you. “Can you tell her my name’s Kirby and ask her what her name is?”

David groaned but translated when Kirby smacked his shoulder. “Il s'appelle Kirby, puis il veut savoir c'est quoi ton nom.”

You let out a soft chuckle, flicking your eyes to Kirby who looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Je m’appelle y/n.”

“Her name’s y/n.” David translates.

“Y/n,” Kirby repeats, and you can’t help but love the way your name sounds coming off his tongue. “Can you ask her where she’s from?”

“You both know that Google Translate exists, right?” David asks, but once again translates after Kirby gives him a look. “She’s from Sept-Îles, a town about ten hours north of here, but she’s just moved here for work.”

“Woah, that’s far from home. Can you tell her that I’m from Alberta and that I’m sorry I don’t speak a lick of French, but I’d really like to take her on a date?” Kirby asks. “Also tell her she’s really pretty.”

“God, you owe me so much for doing this,” David says under his breath, turning to you. “Il vient de l'Alberta et ne parle pas français, évidemment, mais il vous trouve vraiment jolie et il veut vous sortir.”

A pale blush forms on your cheeks as you let out a soft laugh. Kirby has a hopeful look on his face as he gauges your reaction. “J'adorerais ça.” you say.

“She said yes,” David says.

Kirby’s face lit up with a radiant smile. “Thank you, David,” he said, his gratitude evident.

David rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You owe me big time for this, Kirby.”

You and Kirby exchanged numbers, sparking the beginning of the journey that was your relationship. Your first few dates were a process of getting to know one another, aided by translation apps. As your feelings grew for each other, you became determined to bridge the language gap, and you both promised to learn each other’s language. While Kirby’s progress in French was slow and often hilarious, you quickly picked up English, impressing him with your dedication and rapid improvement.

With each date, you and Kirby grew closer, finding that love could transcend language barriers. Kirby admired your tenacity and intelligence, joking about how you’d soon be correcting his English, let alone his French. Meanwhile, you appreciated Kirby’s patience and his committed attempts to communicate, even if it meant enduring his butchering of French phrases.

Coming up on four months of being together, your relationship with Kirby has been one of the best things since coming to Montreal. The connection between you two has deepened in ways you never imagined, bringing joy and comfort to your new life. You have yet to say “I love you”, not in English at least. Instead, the unspoken expression has been silently nurtured between you, each shared glance and tender moment building the unspoken truth of affection. The words remained unsaid, waiting for the right moment to be said. And now, as you lay on the chest of your boyfriend in the early morning light, the soft hues of dawn casting a gentle glow on his face, you found a way to say it for the first time.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains as you lay in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. You traced a finger along Kirby’s jawline, a playful smile on your lips. "Okay, I have a new thing for you to learn in French," you said, your French accent still present but endearing.

Kirby chuckled, pulling you closer. "Alright, teacher. What’s the lesson today?"

Your eyes look into his with a newfound clarity, your smile reflecting the warmth of the rising sun. You looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking slowly, enunciating each word. “Okay, répète après moi,” you say. "Je t’aime."

He looks at you, a curious spark in his eyes, and mimics your words, “Je t’aime.”

You smile at his attempt, correcting his pronunciation with a light laugh. You teach him to say it with a French accent, allowing the words to flow easily from his mouth, your fingers tracing his lips as he speaks.

“Je t’aime,” he says again, this time more confidently.

“Très bien,” you praise, your eyes locking onto his. There’s a softness in your gaze, a quiet intensity that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Do you know what it means?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He shakes his head, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Not exactly. You tell me.”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “It means ‘I love you,’” you say, your voice steady but your eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability.

For a moment, silence envelops you. Kirby reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek. “Je t’aime,” he repeats, the words carrying a new weight now that he knows the meaning.

Kirby leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” he says, sincerity in his voice.

Your lips break into a smile. “Say it again,” you say, resting your forehead against his.

“Je t’aime,” Kirby said in a low voice, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. Kirby repeated the words, alternating with kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.”

#kirby dach #kirby dach x reader #kirby dach imagine #montreal canadiens #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey

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angelickisscs · 4 months ago

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we are or we aren’t ~ angst ‧₊˚

୨ ୧ ˚₊ ~ pairing ~ jude bellingham x reader

summary: Sometimes, you have to be true to yourself even if that means breaking two hearts in the process !

warnings: no happy ending, my sincerest apologies!!

YOUR HEAD WAS in your hands, that nagging feeling of embarrassment pulling on your heart as it inflicted life altering pain like it was nothing. The sound of it pounding against your ears, looking for anyway to escape had you close to explosion.

It was a form of embarrassment you had never felt. Sure, you had tripped and fell in front of masses of people or stuttered while speaking to your superiors but those only kept you awake, searching for a way to make it stop.

This situation had you clawing down metal walls, screaming at the top of your lungs to be heard by no one.

The anger was what stood out the most, however. It was indescribable how this man had been making you feel for months. It engulfed you, flowing through your blue-tinted veins as if it were your own blood.

He had you running in circles around him, clasping at any form of attention he gave you that wasn’t to do with the main reason he associated with you. Sure, it had you embarrassed. But after it lingered in your mind for a simple day more than it should have, it turned into relentless rage. Being taken out on everyone but him because you could not tolerate the thought of hurting his feelings.

You could not bare the thought of making him feel the same way he had been making you feel since the very second you met him.

“Look, I did not mean to upset you. If I’d know this is how you’d react, I wouldn’t have said it.” Jude said, digging the hole he had willingly stepped in far deeper than it ever needed to go.

“What else could it make me feel Jude?” You scoffed, looking up towards him with a slight grimace.

You had done that weird side-stepping thing with people where you would always end up going in the same direction. You had coughed in a completely silent room. You had taken your dog out for a walk where she had started barking at every living being like crazy.

All moments where you had used the expression worst day of my life. But now, it was no longer an expression. It was an emotion so deeply imprinted inside of you that you could feel it soaring in your bones.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” The uncertainty in his voice threw knives at you and yet his eyes refused to watch as you bled out directly in front of him.

“What for?” You tried, your body standing up only to take a step back from him. The position you had taken on the sofa when walking in making you feel more vulnerable than ever.

Jude paused, reaching his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. A nervous act that you had swiftly caught onto. “For saying all of that to them. I do not know what I was thinking.”

The silence was deafening, eating not only you alive. It tore you apart limb from limb, taking time between choosing what to go after next.

You knew exactly what he was thinking. A mutual friend had asked if the two of you were dating, something not even you knew the answer too. But Jude did, he was quick to deny the innocent allegation. Explaining that you were just friends and nothing more. And you could do nothing but stand there, eavesdropping on the conversation he was having from afar.

It made each muscle in your body seize, the pain that he had caused not only mental.

“I panicked, it was stupid, and I take accountability for that.” He made an attempt to fill the gap you had previously set between you both. All he needed was a weak hand raise from you to stop in his tracks and you gave him that.

There was not much you could think to say. His weak attempt at an apology like putting a plaster over a gun shot wound. Your heart tightened, feeling everything that he was saying, the shattered pieces of it tearing apart the rest of your body.

Words barrelled against your closed lips, jumbling themselves into sentences that did not even make sense to you. Your gaze drifted towards the hardwood floors that coated much of his house, having falling victim as you stared harshly at them in attempt to not let the tears fall.

Why did you even come here in the first place?

Why would you even get in a car with him? Sitting silently, letting the emotions brew in you like you were creating a mystical potion. That was until he had pointed your silence out, asking sincerely if you were okay.

“I can’t keep doing this.” You shook your head, some silly part of you disagreeing with your own feelings but it was far too late to go back. “We can’t.”

“Doing what?” The crack that split his words in half had you allowing the first tears to break free from the prison they had found themselves inside.

“Whatever this situation is! You said it. We are just friends, nothing more,” Each syllable duplicated the anguish you were feeling. “But then we get back home and then it’s the complete opposite.”

The air that surrounded the both of you was freezing, wrapping you in a not so comforting hug. It circled around the room like a lion encircling its prey.

Finally looking upwards, your eyes met with his brown ones, the pain that filled them so deeply confusing you. Minutes ago, it was the exact opposite. A barrier of some sorts keeping you from seeing what he was actually feeling and now it had finally lowered, you could not help but wish that it had happened sooner.

“I don’t-.” He had begun but you were not in the correct state of mind to listen to why he was not ready to be in a relationship for the thousandth time.

“It’s either we are, or we aren’t Jude. I am exhausted of being some little toy you can play around with, leave, and then come back when you need a fuck or some comfort.” Your voice was exasperated from all the weight it forced itself to carry, your throat begging for any form of liquids, the tears that were now rhythmically falling down your cheeks not doing enough to complete this request.

“You’re so much more than that to me, I promise.” Jude stated, taking steps towards you so he could place his hands upon your cheeks, wiping away each singular tear. His forehead fell downwards to meet yours, his eyes closing as he did so.

You paused, cherishing the feelings of his skin against yours for what was the last time. “So, we aren’t then?”

Keeping your eyes open, you awaited an answer. The answer you were bound to get from the very beginning.

“No! I just-.” His eyes stayed closed as he spoke but your face moving away from his grip had them opening once again, the panic beginning to set in.

Words failed to fall past his open lips, a sense of urgency fuelling his every movement. His hand moved out to grab yours and yet it could not. The ever-growing gap you were putting between the two of you only now hitting you.

“Please, I just need to figure some stuff out. I want you; I want to scream from the rooftops how much I enjoy being around you. How my mind is filled with thoughts about you every second of the day. I want to be with you.”

“But.” You finished for him making his shoulders slump in defeat. “Theres always a but with you and even if you want all of that, you have continuously failed to give it to me no matter how much I have asked you to.”

Jude’s head began to shake, refusing to process and accept everything you were finally saying. You were ready to let him go but he was not ready to let that happen.

“I will give it to you and so much more. I know I have failed you, just let me make it right.” His pleads fell upon death ears.

Your legs began to take control of your body, your head not in the right space to be able to make any qualified decisions in this second. They took you out of that monstrous room, guiding you seamlessly through the house using a route you had taken far too many times.

Jude was quick to follow you, calling your name but as your pace quickened, his body froze. He had never felt this type of pain before. So deeply and harshly like a million knives had punctured one particular section of his heart.

His eyes followed you as you opened his front door, the shock that overran his paralyzed body finally giving way to the adrenaline so he could chase after your retreating figure.

But it was far too late, just like everything else he had done with you. With nothing to do but watch, that is exactly what he did. From his doorstep on the cold and windy night, his eyes painfully trained on your car as you drove out of his life.

You had stupidly given your heart to the brown eyed thief and would spending the rest of your life in debt for that.

#୨୧ angelickisscs ࿐#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fanfic

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lynchs-finch · 1 year ago

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Hands-On Viewing Experience

An N$FW Ross Lynch x gn!Reader Fic

Sum: You've known Ross for a while, albeit as a friend-of-a-friend. Though he's always been friendly and respectful (and pretty damn attractive,) you two haven't spent much alone time. However, when all of you and his friends cancel on the night's plans and he invites you in for a movie night, the two of you become much closer than you ever expected. Word Count: 4,362 Rating: Mature (Oral Sex, Language) A/N: This is my first real shot at any xReader stuff, so I hope you like it!

Ross stood in the doorway in front of you, in nothing but the pair of gray briefs he swore he was gonna throw out for being too small. A T-shirt and jeans wasn't underdressed after all, it seemed.

“Oh, what’s up?” A small grin broke on Ross’s otherwise tired face as he rested his hand on the door frame. “I didn’t think you were coming over. Everyone else cancelled.”

“Yeah, but I was really looking forward to all of us hanging out again,” Though you spoke fairly evenly, your thoughts were all jumbled up with a scantily clad Ross in front of you. His skin was a light pink all over with a slight glow to it. Maybe it was your imagination, but his muscles all seemed to pop more than usual. “Sorry, I should’ve texted first.”

“It’s chill. Actually, I just finished working out and was gonna have a little movie night with myself.”

“Oh, right,” You responded with a quick smile, expecting him to ask you to leave, “Well, I-“

“But, since you’re already here,” Ross nodded his head upwards, gesturing towards his home, “I wouldn't say no to a little company. Especially not yours.”

You take a moment to respond, just a little caught up on the fact Ross was inviting you in like he wasn’t half-naked. You and him were close enough, sure, and it was impossible to have an objectively sexy pop-rock star friend and not see him in his underwear from time to time, but Ross had never been one to just be half-naked in front of you.

When you glanced up at Ross, though, you got the impression he knew this just as well. His amber eyes, trained solely on you, glistened in a way familiar to you from all your nights out on the town. The look a half-drunk, half-dressed, wholly-horny Ross gave to whoever he decided would be that night's mistake.

"Sure, why not?" Considering your friendship, you might be shaping up to be Ross's and your biggest mistake of all. Still, as you watched his muscled frame step aside to let you in, you couldn't be more grateful neither of you were perfect.

As you walked through the doorway, you felt warm skin against your neck as Ross draped his arm over your shoulder. With his side hugged firmly against yours, you could feel him humming My Heart Will Go On as well as you can hear it.

"Celine Dion? What, are we gonna watch Titanic or something?" You asked as Ross guided you into his living room. Even though you'd been to his place enough to know your way around, you didn't mind him guiding you around if he was this close.

"Don't judge me, okay?" Ross pleaded as you both came to a stop. He turned his head to look down at you, an exaggerated pout on his face.

"Of course not, it's a total classic or something," You responded, trying your best not to giggle. It was no secret Ross was more sentimental than the average guy, which was certainly something you loved about him, but it always struck you as a little humorous when he would recommend shows or songs that your grandma would criticize for being too sappy.

"Whatever, dude," Ross scoffed, removing his arm from your shoulder and patting you twice on the back, "I'll go grab the movie. In the meantime, you can sit here and rethink your taste in movies."

Despite his instructions, you found yourself standing still as Ross walked down the hallway to his room. Just like the rest of them, his back muscles seemed to bulge out from his body with a post-workout glow. Your eyes followed every muscle from his shoulder and down his spine, imagining how it'd feel to run your hands over them. Hard to the touch as your body would be pressed against his, something to grip while he shakes the bed f-

You shook your head, coming to your senses as he turned the corner. He was just your friend and nothing more, a fact you reminded yourself of as you went to sit down.

Ross's living room was comfortably familiar to you. Supported by hardwood flooring and surrounded by white walls, the living room housed brown leather couches and a small wooden coffee table. Against the wall behind them was a desk, flanked with two large black bookshelves, filled with photo albums, DVDs, and of course, books.

The leather of the couch stretched as you sat down, and you stretched in kind, grateful to be sat anywhere after the walk to Ross’s place. Straight across from you was his TV, on top of a glass tabletop with two rows of shelf supporting it. Several gaming consoles, devices, and board game boxes sat atop them.

After a minute or so of shuffling coming from Ross's room, he returned, a DVD box in hand and blanket over his shoulder.

"Got it," Ross held the DVD up to show you, then tossing it up in the air and catching it with his left hand. With his right, he pulled the blanket off himself and tossed it to you.

As you spread the blanket over yourself, your eyes again drifted to Ross as he took the disc out of the box went to put it in. He bent down to the DVD player, sliding the disc in.

Though Ross claimed his underwear were two sizes too small, you didn't mind the snug fit. Not when they were practically tearing at the seams trying to hold his ass in them. You could see both cheeks clearly, big, round, and bouncing as Ross jostled his DVD player.

"Piece of shit!" He grunted as he smacked around the poor device. Turning his head slightly, he added, "Sorry, it's a little slow. We've had this thing since my R5 days."

You probably mumbled out something like a response to Ross’s comment. Not like you would remember if you did, considering what started jiggling as Ross started roughing up his DVD player.

His dick was heavy. It had to be, considering how it had been saugging in his underwear since you'd gotten there. Now, with the aggressive motion of Ross smacking his DVD player, it swung up and down with such weight it pulled his underwear down a bit. Had the machine not been such a little bitch and began functioning, you might have gotten to see everything.

"Alright, it's working for now," Ross huffed, pulling up his underwear and resting his hands on his hips. So much for finding out why he was cast as Austin Moon. "Hopefully it'll hold out long enough for us to watch the whole thing. You thirsty?"

"What-?" You blinked several times, assuming you'd been called out for your not-so-subtle staring. You didn't think you were looking anywhere indecent, but his whole body was a minefield of places you could get lost daydreaming about.

"Are you thirsty? For a drink?" Ross tilted his head, a little confusion in his voice. "I just got sponsored by this sports drink company and they gave me more juice than I could ever want."

"Oh! Sure, yeah, totally," Affirmatives stumbled out of your mouth as you felt your face grew hot. The only thing keeping you from bursting into actual flames on the spot was the knowledge that you avoided the thousand-times worse situation of Ross knowing you were checking him out.

You somehow salvage the name of your favorite flavor from of the housefire of embarrassment that was your brain, telling it to Ross. With a smile as relaxed and charming as always, Ross gave you a nod and went into the kitchen.

Not more than a minute later, Ross returned, two cartons in hand.

“Heads up,” He called, tossing a carton to you and opening his red mixed-berry drink. Although you fumble it into your lap, Ross gives you a supportive thumbs up anyway.

The cap to the drink was unnecessarily complicated, taking all your focus to figure out and open (un-latch, un-hook, push down and twist? It's a surprise you didn't have to answer an algebra problem, too.) You were so focused, in fact, that you didn't notice Ross coming to sit next to you until he was practically on you.

Ross's couch was a three-seater, with room for two more people than that. With all that space on the sofa available to him, Ross chose to sit directly next to you. Not elbow-to-elbow close, not even arm-to-arm close, but him-slinging-his-arm-over-you-and-pulling-your-body-into-his close.

Even holding you against his barely clothed body, Ross was as nonchalant as ever.

"Okay," Ross sighed, seeming to lean against you as he settledhimself into the couch. After navigating the Blu-Ray menu to the "Play Movie" button, he turned his head to look at you, "Comfy?"

His face was inches from yours now. Minuscule details about him became clear to you- his stubble, the dimple on his right cheek, and several tiny blemishes on his face normally concealed by makeup. Things you hadn’t been able to see before, things most people never would, glowed in the dim light of his TV as his warm, minty(?) breath grazed your face.

"Yeah," You whispered, "I am."

For the most part, you and Ross were quiet after that. Though your focus was mostly on the fact that Ross and you were so close while he was so naked, the parts of Titanic you did focus on were pretty alright (even if all your investment in the story came from imagining Ross as Jack and yourself as Rose.)

After about the halfway point of the movie, (that is, an hour and a half of him cradling you against his body,) Ross began to slide his arm down your back. Casually, while he made some comment about the film. He rested it low on your body, his forearm wrapping around your waist and hand exerting a slight grip on your hip. His index finger played around with your waistband, like it was waiting for your permission to rip your pants clean off.

With the suggestive placement of Ross's hand, your mind started swarming with the same thoughts it had been earlier. Feeling you up, watching Titanic, being half-fucking-naked alone with you- if he wasn't trying to communicate he was into you, then he was communicating how in-sane he was.

So, you rested his head on his shoulder. Considering how close you were, it was barely more than a slight tilt, but Ross noticed. He rested his head on top of yours, giving your hip a light squeeze.

“Y’know, I’m actually kinda glad everyone else cancelled on us,” Ross spoke, his voice low and quiet, yet still reverberating through your head, "I'm glad we're spending some one-on-one time together."

"Me too," You responded, your hand finding a comfortable spot on Ross's thigh, "I can't remember the last time it's been just me and you."

"It hasn't," Ross responded quickly, then following up with an awkward, "I mean, you were my brother's friend first, so we usually only hang out with him around."

Before you could appreciate the fact Ross was as fixated on the fact you two were alone as you were, you felt his head turn until you could hear his slow, deep breathing in your ear.

"That's why I never made my move before," With every word, the soft skin of his lips brushed against your ear. Though his voice was even lower than before, it seemed a thousand times louder than the movie playing in front of you.

It took every ounce of boldness within you to turn your head too. Nose-to-nose with Ross, you could tell he’d let you kiss him right then. Still, you couldn’t resist letting this moment go on a little longer.

“Well, he’s not here now,” With every word, your lips brushed against Ross’s the slightest bit, “But you haven’t done anything yet.”

Ross broke into a smile, “You think I haven’t made a move tonight?”

“I think you haven’t made the move tonight.”

Ross opened his mouth, which you presumed was to speak. Anticipating his next words, you were surprised as the banter between you both was cut short by Ross kissing you on the lips.

For a second, didn’t register it was happening. He barely had to move to reach your lips, and you didn’t move at all. It was two or three seconds before you even thought to kiss back. It was nice, but Ross pulled away too soon for you to appreciate it fully.

“There,” Ross ran his hand through his hair, “That better?”

"A little," You said. Amazingly, even as heat rose through your chest and face, you played it cool.

"A little? What, you want more?" Ross responded, not really a question or offer. Just a statement of fact, plain and simple.

Paying Ross back in kind for catching you off guard before, you leaned in and kissed him in place of a response. You shimmied your hand up his back and placed your hand behind his head, making sure he wouldn't pull away so quickly.

The best part of kissing Ross wasn't that he was objectively amazing at it. It wasn't his silky hair in your hand or soft lips on yours. It wasn't even him caressing your lower back under your shirt. It was how he smelled.

God, he smelled good. More than good, intoxicating. His woodsy deodorant mixed with his post-workout musk filled your nostrils he pulled you in closer, driving you crazier with every whiff you got.

Eventually, his lips weren’t enough for you anymore, and you began to kiss him across his cheek and jaw, settling on his neck. It was thick and smelled strongly of Ross's cologne- of Ross, that every ounce of restraint escaped your body along with desperate breaths and yearning moans.

You felt Ross’s deep moans vibrate in his throat as you took bits of loose skin between your teeth and ran your tongue over his larynx destabilized by heavy breaths. Your free hand roamed his chest, rock-hard just as you predicted, eventually finding it's way down to his navel. Without hesitation, your fingers began to tug at the waistband of his underwear, and questions of whether your prediction about what was underneath were as true as those about his abs.

"Take 'em off," Ross spoke in an authoritative tone you'd never heard before, "I know you want to."

You wanted to, more than Ross could ever you did. The second Ross raised his hips up to allow easy removal, you yanked his underwear down to his knees.

You stared at his cock. Gawked, even. How could you not? You'd been daydreaming about it for the past 90 minutes daydreaming about it.

It was more than everything you thought it'd be. So thick it couldn't stand up on its own, Ross's dick rested against his stomach. You couldn't tell it's exact length, but experience and intuition told you it was comfortably within the ballpark of 8 inches of length. It was a couple shades lighter than the rest of his body, with the head and balls a light shade of red. A couple of veins ran across it, the most notable being a thick, jagged line from the head of his dick to the bottom of his shaft. If you weren't so dead set on getting it into one or more of your holes, you'd find yourself intimidated.

Ross tilted your head upwards, shifting your gaze from his cock to his smirk. He didn't have to use his words to ask if you liked what you saw, and you didn't have to use yours to tell him you did. Instead, you both found yourself leaning into another kiss.

It felt natural, the way your bodies turned to face one another's, even though your first kiss with him wasn't five minutes ago. Arching your back and leaning into him, Ross wrapped his arms around you and laid on his back, pulling you down with him.

With the help of gravity, Ross's cock was pressed up against your chest. Though you weren't getting any skin-to-skin contact, you still felt the massive mass of meat below you. Arms gripped tight around you, Ross jerked your body upwards and downwards, creating friction on his dick that caused the vibrating moans you felt leave his mouth and enter yours.

Soon, you realized once more that Ross's lips weren't enough for you, and you knew his neck wouldn't be either. Once Ross's grip on you loosened, you moved from his mouth to give a quick kiss on his neck, then finally biting his left nipple.

"Shit!" Ross bucked his hips into your chest, but your mouth remained sucking on his nipple. You kept kissing and biting it, moans vibrating in your chest as Ross grinded his cock against it.

By the time you moved on, licking every single one of Ross's abs and the space between them. The lower you got, the fewer places you could lick that didn't have some hair bristling pleasantly against your tongue. Your shirt was wet with precum from Ross's rock-hard dick, stil rubbing up and down against your neck. With the sounds and movements he was making being so desperate, you knew exactly what he needed from you.

So, your tongue continued its journey down Ross's body, until it was finally at the base of his cock. Your tongue ran in half circles around Ross's shaft, a little less hairy than his navel. His hips were continuously pumping up down slightly, grunting like he was trying to keep himself calm and failing miserably.

You gave a few teasing licks to the bottom of his shaft, right over his vein, before pulling away and pleasuring his balls instead. His hips shot up as your tongue touched the skin under his balls, and he shouted a couple explosives as you continued licking.

Finally, he yanked your head away, reddening and gasping for breath as he told you, "Just- Fuck- Just focus on my dick, 'cause that's- that's too fucking much for me right now."

You nodded in agreement, promising yourself to return back down there to make him cum. With the power to completely unravel Ross, to leave him blushing and creaming and gasping for air, it would be criminal not to use it.

In the meantime, you did what he asked of you and lifted your head upwards, leaving less than an inch between your lips and the head of Ross's cock. It glistened, already leaking precum like Ross was ready to blow. A firm lick could've finished him off, but you intended on making this last.

You tasted Ross's precum, pressing the tip of your tongue on the head of his dick. He whimpered, placing his hand on the back of your head without exerting any pressure. The liquid was warmer than his skin, citrusy and rich with a flavor you'd never tasted before, that left you wanting more and more.

Running your tongue all over the head of Ross's cock, you lapped up all rest of the precum as Ross released soft sounds of pleasure. His hips rocked up and down ever so slightly, like his body was moving in a pleasure-driven trance that slowly intensified as you explored his cock further. His body jolted each time your tongue explored somewhere new, returning to an increased pace of thrusting right after. From under the head, down his shaft, and around the base, your tongue had thoroughly mapped out Ross's cock before your lips even touched it. He was moaning and pumping his hips, but you were just getting started.

After quickly licking off the precum on Ross’s cock again, you took the head into your mouth. You only intended to put a little into your mouth, but Ross bucked his hips into the air, and before you knew it, you had the head of his dick against the roof of your mouth.

“Mmfph!” You exclaimed, mouth full of cock. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor was enough of it in that you couldn’t breathe, but it did surprise you. Readjusting quickly, you made space in the back of your mouth so that Ross could continue thrusting up and down without triggering your gag reflex.

From the sounds he made, you were putting him and heaven. He grunted and groaned, barely taking time to breathe between each noise. Cursing and moaning your name, you felt his hand press your head further down on his cock.

You took the extra length in your mouth in stride, gripping your left thumb and hoping for the best. Almost all of his dick was in your mouth, air coming into your throat every spare second Ross was out.

It wasn’t the action of sucking dick that brought you pleasure, though. It was Ross’s reaction, becoming ever more frantic and aggressive the longer you had him in your mouth.

“Holy fuck, you’re fucking-“ Ross gasped, unable to finish his sentence before letting out a shuddering moan. He hadn’t said anything, but you could tell he was close.

After another few seconds, you pulled your mouth off his cock and licked his shaft once again. Predicting his upwards thrust at the change in sensation, you only licked halfway down his dick, letting his sudden motion bring the base up to your tongue. As his hips fell, you lowered your head with them, running your tougue around and under his balls.

Like before, Ross's reaction was explosive, but you were prepared this time. You wrapped one hand around his cock and stroking, pressing down on his abs to keep his hips from jumping too high as he cried out with pleasure.

"Oh my g-" Ross, gasping for air, wriggled ferociously even as you held him down. Your tongue would've quite literally driven him up the wall were he standing.

A waterfall of expletives and precum flooded out of his mouth and cock respectively, and you could tell by the tension of his cock in your hand that his climax was near. The more intensely he grunted and cussed and thrusted his hips, the quicker your tongue ran all over his balls and your hand jerked off his cock.

"I'm g- I'm gonna-" Ross yelled, and you jumped into action. Your head rose up and you put as much of Ross as could possibly fit into your mouth.

Five ropes of thick, citrusy cum fired into the very back of your mouth as Ross fired off every exclamation he knew of. His face, you could see, was redder than the carton of mixed-berry he'd guzzled down earlier. His mouth gaped and his gaze was trained straight onto you, brimming so thoroughly with lust that you wondered how he contained it for as long as he had.

As more ropes shot into your mouth, you felt Ross push your head even further down onto his cock and say your name. A whisper at first, but he repeated louder and louder as his load just kept coming.

You locked eyes with Ross and, even as you began to feel the need for air get to you, you felt like you could be there with him forever, being filled with cum, attraction, and even the slightest hint of love.

Finally, Ross released your head and you pulled away, swallowing all his cum in one gulp, followed by as much air as you could. You coughed a little as Ross sat up across from you on the couch, running his hand through his hair dampened with sweat.

With a still-reddened face, all he could say was your name with a contented smile and look of adoration.

"What?" You teased, keeping your cool in spite of everything. Rather than respond with words, Ross crawled forward and kissed you, pushing you over with his body weight.

You were fully prepared for him to return the favor when you heard a car pulling into the driveway.

"Shit, that's Rocky," He muttered, leaping off of you and searching the floor for his underwear, "I thought he'd be out longer."

Once he found them, Ross scrambled into his underwear and rushed to his room. Obviously, you watched his butt jiggle as he ran away.

"Act normal!" He called as he turned into his room.

Moments later, Rocky walked in through the door, eyes widening as he saw you.

"Hey. Didn't think you'd be over," He said, glancing at Titanic still playing on the TV. "Where's Ross?"

Before you had to make up some lie, Ross reemerged from his room, now in a lavender t-shirt and shorts, smiling casually like nothing happened between you two.

"Sorry, I spilled some juice on myself and had to go change," Ross walked up to his brother and pulled him into a side hug, "How was the dentist?"

"Shitty. I thought I could watch some Golden Girls to relax, but if you guys are busy..."

"No, it's okay," You spoke up, face flushing with heat, "I was just going anyways."

Ross looked surprised, "You were?"

You gulped. You really, really wished you could stay, but everything you wanted to with Ross would be made awkward with the knowledge his brother in the house. Besides, if you stuck around Ross too long, you were certain Rocky would catch on to whatever was happening between you two.

"Yeah, I... gotta get up early tomorrow."

Ross looked disappointed, but walked you out to your car, standing close enough to you that your hands brushed repeatedly.

"I'll see you around," You told Ross, sticking your key in the car.

You turn around to face him, and he pulls you in for a kiss. A quick one, though the way he lingered pulling away told you he wanted more.

"Make it soon, okay?" Ross grinned, checking you out one last time as he turned around, "I owe you some head."

You watched him walk away one last time, the butterflies in your chest running wild as you stepped into you car. Though you couldn't tell what you had just yet, you knew it wasn't ending any time soon.

~~~

A Little More Ross for anybody interested

#ross lynch #ross lynch x reader #fanfiction #smut #fanfic #the driver era #sexy #lynchs-finch

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eroselless · 6 months ago

Text

PATO - ONE

series masterlist | part 2 | part 3

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of pregnancy

note: I don’t listen to Billie Eilish all that much but my best friend got me hooked on her latest album and for some reason, Wildflower inspired me to write this. Might not have any correlation but ya know, when life give you lemons. Also here Charles and Carlos aren’t as close as they seem to be in real life. Hope you enjoy it!

MONACO, DECEMBER 2022

You stand in the dim light of your living room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the floor. It’s a wasteland of memories—two years of them, scattered like broken glass across the carpet. You feel the ache of them pressing in, and for a moment it’s almost too much to bear.

“I feel like I’m drowning here, all on my own,” you breathe, your voice splintered and fragile. You can barely hold his gaze, not when he looks so unfazed, so unmoved. His face is a mask you can’t seem to decipher. “You’re always gone, Charles. What are we even doing?”

Charles rubs his temple, a motion that is almost rehearsed, this conversation feeling like it's been had far too many times. “This isn’t just some passing thing,” he snaps, voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Racing is my life. I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand that!” The words tumble out, tangle with all the things you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. The sting in your eyes returns and you blink hard, but the tears come anyways, seemingly falling at a never ending pace. “But passion shouldn’t come at the expense of our relationship. You could come home, but you don’t!”

He shifts uncomfortably from across the room, his eyes darting away from yours to the carpeted floor below. His nostrils are flared in anger as you continue. When he finally speaks, it's veiled in frustration, as if he’s trying to be gentle but not quite succeeding.

“When you do come home, which is hardly ever, it’s like you're not even here. You’re closed off, cold. We barely spend any time together, and when we do, it’s like you're trying to hide me away.”

Charles’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenching as he shoves a finger in your direction. “I keep our relationship private to protect you from the media circus, you know that!” he interjects.

You let out a heavy breath, your shoulders sagging with exhaustion. It's an excuse you’ve heard time and time again, and there's only so much of it you can handle. Your resolve wavers, your voice quiet but firm as you speak.

“I don’t care about them,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “I can handle whatever comes. But I can’t handle being invisible to you.”

You turn and make your way down the hall, to your shared room, Charles following close behind you. All he can do is stand and watch as you start to shove things in a backpack. The silence between you is heavy, suffocating.

As you pull on a jacket and prepare to leave, he reaches out to stop you, his voice small with confusion. “What’s happening?” he asks, his voice is softer now, vulnerable in a way that almost hurts to hear. His hand reaches for yours.

You swat it away, your own hand trembling as you do. “We are nothing but strangers bound by memories. But if you can't even be here for that, then what's the point?” you say softly.

“You don’t need to worry about keeping us a secret anymore, Charles.”

There’s a tense silence as he struggles to process your words, tears beginning to prick at his cerulean eyes. You meet his gaze, searching for something, anything–a plea, a reason to stay. But you see none, whatever you had been hoping to find isn’t there. So you turn and slip out the door, leaving him behind in the empty silence of your once-happy home.

The train rattles forward, each clack of the wheels like a heartbeat, steady and relentless. Raindrops pater slowly against the glass, a mess of gray against the darkening world outside. Outside, the trees and grass blur together, mirroring the jumble of emotions swirling inside your chest. Your hand falls gently to your stomach, feeling the faint swell there, and you can't help but glide your fingers over it tenderly.

With trembling fingers, you reach into your bag and pull out the pregnancy test, its plastic casing cool against your skin. It sits in your hands like a ghost, a reminder of a truth you hadn’t planned for, a future you never imagined facing alone. The two bold lines glare back at you, a stark reminder of the life beginning to grow inside you. Fear and uncertainty fill the cavities of your chest, threatening to overwhelm you. You close your eyes, tears tracing silent paths down your cheeks once again.

Leaving Charles before telling him about the baby feels like abandoning a ship in the middle of a storm. Guilt gnaws at your chest as the train hurtles further and further away from Monaco, the distance between you and Charles widening with each passing moment. Yet the truth burns as you find yourself repeating it over and over to yourself—Charles may have been physically there, in body, but his mind has been somewhere else, somewhere distant, somewhere that was never you.

As you watch the landscape continue to blur past, your reflection in the glass is a haunting echo of the life you thought you had built. At 21, you never expected to face the daunting prospect of motherhood on your own. It's not the path you imagined yourself on at all. You thought you would marry Charles and share the joys and challenges of this baby with him. You thought there’d be laughter, shared glances, maybe even late nights in nurseries painted with dreams But those dreams were a faint memory now, belonging to a different girl, someone you weren’t anymore.

Charles had a way of making you feel like the world around you faded when he was around, his passion for racing a fire that burned so bright, you wanted to stay close to it and feel its warmth. You couldn’t help but love how passionate he was about racing, and admire the fire in his eyes as he chased victory on the track. But in his relentless pursuit of glory, he seemed to have left you behind with nothing but his silhouette, a mere afterthought in his quest for greatness. His fire left you feeling cold, with nothing left to hold on to but memories, shadows of a live you weren’t even sure were real.

In that moment, you realize that in many ways, you would’ve had to raise the child on your own regardless of Charles's presence. His absence has left you feeling isolated and alone, grasping at the fragments of your fractured relationship. If you'd stayed, who knows if he would have changed? The uncertainty weighs heavily on your heart, threatening to drag you under.

With a sigh, you feel yourself sag further into the train seat, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. The ticket inspector’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you hastily produce your ticket, handing it over to him with a shaky hand. Your fingers feel numb as you watch him scan it, barely managing a polite nod.

Across the aisle, you catch the gaze of a woman's eyes full of unspoken sympathy as she watches your fingers tighten around the pregnancy test. You give her a tight-lipped smile as the ticket inspector hands back your ticket before turning back to the window, your gaze fixed on the blurring landscape outside as you hurtle toward an uncertain future.

a/n: a little short for the first chapter but they’ll be a little longer in the future, hope you guys enjoy this first one :) also if you made it this far, I just wanted to share that the word pato means duck. It's not too important for now but it will be later! As always, thank you for reading!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

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