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mysteria157 · 25 days

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Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend.

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy? Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear. As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake.

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

“I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week.

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

160 notes · View notes

smoooothoperator · 15 days

Text

untouchable

20: Lonely

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Harry.

a/n: Happy Easter!!! I hope everyone had an amazing week! A little warning, the next chapter will be the last one! But of course there will be an epilogue and bonus chapters

Masterlist

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Day 1

Nurses came to check on her all the time to see her vitals, how her brain was going as well as taking a look at how her body was healing after the surgery.

My phone was blowing all the time with messages and calls, asking if I was alright. Just how I predicted, everyone saw the news and recognized my car. Workers from McLaren called me, my family and friends called too, drivers from the grid.

Everyone was worried about me. But none of them expected what actually happened.

When the nurses changed her to the VIP room I reserved for her, Max and Pietra came with me, both of them bringing clothes for her and for me, as well as something to eat.

“You have to eat, mate” Max sighed, watching how I left the bowl of salad on the table, not even touching it.

“I'm not hungry, I swear” I sighed.

“You didn't eat anything yesterday, Lando. Eat something, or at least drink” Pietra sighed.

I looked at them and sigh, grabbing the bowl and eating it under their gaze.

“I don't know what to do… my phone is going to explode soon with all the notifications and calls” I sighed, looking at my phone. “What should I do?”

“Maybe write something you can send to everyone, as well as posting it on your social media” Max sighed. “Everyone is talking about the crash, mate. And they think it's you”

“I know” I sigh, brushing my hair with my fingers. “I just… What should I say? Hey, I'm okay but not my girlfriend who was actually the one driving the car?”

“I mean… Yeah? Just tell everyone that gladly you are okay, but unfortunately the one involved in the crash was Violet. And if you are going to write something for your media just ask for privacy. You know how the world is…” Max said, shrugging his shoulders.

I took a deep breath and looked at Violet. Her hair is messy and some locks are tinted in red.

“There has to be a way of washing her hair” I mumbled.

“I'll go ask a nurse, okay?” Pietra smiled weakly, walking out of the room.

I sighed and just scanned Violet's face with my eyes. The cuts were still there, her left eye was swollen. Her arms are full of cuts as well, maybe because she tried to shield her face with her arms.

“I'm going to write a text” I sighe, grabbing my phone and watching all the notifications. “God… It's like I was dead for a night. I didn't answer none of them”

“It's okay, I'm sure everyone will understand” Max sighed, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Plus, I'm sure your fans know it's not you. You were streaming when it happened”

I smile weakly and nod, looking at the screen and typing something, then delete it.

Hello everyone. I'm sorry I didn't answer any of you. I'm okay, physically, but mentally I'm not. It was true there was a crash and my car was involved, but I hate to admit that it didn't happen to me, the one driving it was Violet. We are in the hospital, she's unconscious. I hope everyone understands why I didn't reply to your text.

I showed Max the message and sighed when he nodded, copying the text and sending it to everyone that texted me.

“I don't know if I should call her family” I mumble. “I mean… she doesn't have a good relationship with them. But still, they are her family”

“Did they try to contact you?” Max frowned.

“No” I sighed, looking at Violet. “They have my number, Violet sent it to them in case of an emergency… And I think this one is a big one”

“Then, if they didn't call you, don't call them. It was on the news, it's hard to believe that they didn't read about it” he said. “She said it herself, they only reach for her when they want something from her”

“I know” I sighed.

When Pietra came back with the nurse, she asked the three of us to get out of the room so she could clean and wash her hair.

“Come on, let's go walk a little” Max said, grabbing my arm.

I just let them guide me, feeling how my phone buzzed constantly inside of the pocket of my hoodie. I grabbed it, reading every message, smiling sadly.

“Some drivers want to come” I sighed. “Carlos, Oscar, Charles, Daniel, Max and Alex”

“That's good” Max smiled.

“I don't know if it is…” I sighed. “I mean, I know they want to do it to cheer me up. But right now all I want to do is sit next to her bed and wait for her to wake up. I don't even want to force a smile”

“Then don't force it. They will understand. You don't need to be smiling all the time, Lando” Pietra said. “And you need to be distracted too, think about something else”

“I'm just tired” I sighed. “But I guess you are right”

Some hours passed. Max and Pietra left so I could have time with the other drivers, as well as letting me have time for myself.

“What if they come with their pity faces?” I sighed, holding Violet's hand. “I don't know if I can with that”

I sighed, shaking my head and looking at the door once I heard a few knocks on it, standing up next to her bed.

“Come in”

I took a deep breath, trying to put on the fakest smile I can put now, watching how the door opened slowly and hearing the quiet steps of Carlos and Oscar walking inside of the room. Somehow, I felt grateful they came first. They are the ones I trust the most lately. Carlos being my first teammate and my true friend in the paddock, and Oscar being my current teammate and someone I trust and I know I can rely on.

“Hey…” I sighed.

“Oh, Lando…” Carlos sighed, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around me. “I'm so sorry… The other guys are outside, we wanted to come in first to see how are you”

“No, please” I mumbled. “Just… She's alive, okay? She's just sleeping”

“Of course” Oscar nodded. “But how are you dealing with this?”

I took a deep breath and immediately erased the fake smile. I looked back at Violet for a few seconds and sighed.

“I swear I thought I had lost her” I said with a sad smile. “When I received the call, I was in shock. I was repeating the words they said in my mind, over and over and over again. And on my way to the hospital I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to me if she didn't survive…”

“But she's okay” Carlos sighed, placing his hand on my arm.

“She's in a coma, Carlos… I don't know if she's really okay. I don't know if she's in pain, or scared” I said, feeling my eyes getting wet again. “I feel useless now, sitting and watching her, hoping that she wakes up”

“Hey, you are not useless” Oscar sighed, hitting my arm softly. “You are here, supporting her. And you are being so strong, mate. Staying here and not leaving her side, I'm sure she will appreciate it”

“I wish I could do more” I said looking back at her.

Day 2

Her room smells like flowers.

Yesterday, when the drivers came with their girlfriends, all of them brought flowers for her, as well as some other things to cheer her up once she wakes up.

“We know she loves reading, she got us into it” Carman said, smiling weakly. “So all of us got her a book”

“You didn't have to, girls” I smiled weakly, looking at the box they placed on the table with a few books inside of it. “I'm sure she will love it”

I sighed, looking at the table and standing up, walking towards it and looking at the inside of the box. When I opened it, I smiled weakly, watching her favorite candies inside of it as well as a few books I hadn't seen on her shelves yet.

“You won't believe what the girls brought you” I smiled weakly, sitting next to her and holding her hand. “The books you had in your wishlist. I think something like Fourth Wing and Iron Flame… Oh, and that one from the actress with seven husbands”

I looked at her, hoping that those words made her react. But of course, my delusional mind was being too naive.

“Mom and dad are coming soon” I sighed. “Should I let them stay in the apartment? I don't want them to go around looking for a hotel knowing that I won't stay at home. You don't mind, right? I just… I can't leave you here alone”

I sigh looking at her hand, trying to feel her squeezing my hand as a sign. The doctor told me that anytime she could do that, she could respond and move her fingers.

“Please, just move a finger… I'll go insane if I keep talking alone” I whisper. “Are you alright? In pain? You know I hate it when you are in pain…”

I waited some seconds to receive an answer, but I could only hear the beeping of the monitors with her heartbeat.

The door opened and I sighed, recognizing the steps of my parents coming closer. I heard them leave something on the table and then walk towards me.

“Oh, God…” my mom sighed, hugging me.

“How is she? How are you?” my dad asked, making me smile sad.

Everyone has been asking me that. My messages are full of people asking me how Violet is, how I'm dealing with it.

“Why is everyone asking that? It makes me feel like she's dead” I sighed.

“I know, son” my dad sighed, sque my shoulder with his hand.

“I'm just… dealing with it, I guess” I sighed looking back at them. “I feel relieved somehow. The nurses that come say that she's recv well. The surgery went well and her brain activity is good. But they don't know when she's going to wake up”

“I'm sure it will be soon” my mom nodded.

I sighed nodding, hugging her and taking a deep breath.

“You can stay in the apartment” I said, looking up at them. “It's like half an hour away by car… But at least you have somewhere to stay”

“No, Lando” my dad sighed, shaking his head.

“It's okay” I smile weakly. “I won't go… I will stay here with her. The nurses will arrange for me the extra bed so I can stay at night too. And you'll have food and somewhere nice to sleep. I'm sure won't mind”

They smiled weakly and nodded, both of them wrapping his arms around me. I don't want to break down, I want to be strong for Violet. I tried so hard the last two days to not cry while I'm in her room, but now feeling my parents’ arms around me, it is so hard to hold on to everything.

“I am so scared” I cried softly. “What if she doesn't wake up? What if things don't go well? What if I really lose her?”

“You won't, Lando” my mom sighed, rubbing my back. “Violet is a strong girl, she has a strong soul”

“Everyone is telling me that” I mumble. “But why can't I believe it? Why everytime I look at her I feel my heart shattering?”

“Because you love her, Lando. You love her and watching her this way makes you vulnerable”

I felt my shoulders shaking with every sob, feeling their hands rubbing my back and their arms tightening around me.

Once I calmed down I got up from the chair and walked with them towards the table, watching the bag with lunch they left there. I sighed, opening the box and playing with the food in front of me.

“Somehow I feel that this accident made me see that I have to love the present with her” I said.

“Why do you think that?” my dad asked, frowning.

“We were talking about buying a house together” I sighed. “And I was looking for engagement rings. I just… I love her so much, but I was so focused on it and living my own fantasy with her that I didn't face reality. We have only been dating for six months, I can't take a big step like asking her to marry me…”

“It's soon, son” he sighed. “You two are young, just wait a little. Enjoy life with her”

“I know” I nodded. “Now I know…”

My mom looked at me with a weak smile, placing her hand on top of mine and sque it softly.

“Do you want to show us what you two were looking at?” she smiled weakly. “Maybe we can help”

“It's not necessary, mom” I smiled weakly, grabbing my phone and showing them the pictures of the houses we liked.

“We want to” she smiled looking at my dad and both of them nodding. “We did the same with Oliver's first house with Savannah. We will do the same for you and Violet”

I took a deep breath and smiled, nodding.

I just have to face the reality. And unfortunately, my reality is that the love of my life is unconscious and I have to accept every help and hug I receive.

And in moments like this, I know who will be by my side.

Day 4

Days were too long. So incredibly long.

My routine was so monotonous: waking up before the nurses came to check on Violet, get changed into comfortable clothes and then sit on the chair next to her bed.

I wonder if Jon would be mad if I tell him that I'm skipping my diet and barely working out. Will he be mad? No, right? He knows me, he knows how I'm feeling right now. He knows that, right now, Violet is my priority.

“I think I'm going to read one of those books you are obsessed with” I said looking at her. “Just to feel close to you… Which one should I read? The one of that Feyre girl? Or the one that is a mix of The Hunger Games with Greek mythology?”

I looked at her, trying to find an answer and I sighed. The doctor said that her brain activity is going well, she's recovering. Slowly, but she's recovering.

“Well, A Court of Roses and Spines will be the one” I sighed, smiling weakly, grabbing my tablet and downloading the book, starting reading it immediately.

When Violet told me that a day can go faster when you read a book I always thought that she was exaggerating a little. Whenever she stayed in her office all day, I never imagined she could be starting a book in the morning and finish it at night.

But now, reading the last line of the book, I understood how she felt. When I read the last word, the sky was already dark.

“Oh my God” I whisper, looking at Violet. “Why did you never make me read this before? And the Rhysand that is in this book is the same Rhysand you say is your book crush? What the hell? How? Why? ”

I held my breath, trying to see a reaction. But again, I only heard her heartbeat as an answer.

“I wish you were awake…” I whisper. “God, now I see you so much in this book. I see you in Feyra, my love…”

I sighed, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Her hand is cold, but somehow that doesn't scare me because she always had cold hands.

Maybe reading her favorite books made me feel closer to her, getting into one of the things she loves. Somehow, since we started dating, I learned new things about her every day, things I never knew I would discover before about her.

And somehow, it made me miss her even more.

“Please, wake up” I whisper. “I miss you so bad, Violet. I miss your smile and your laugh, even how you complain because I stay in the computer too long and I don't come to you to cuddle. I promise I won't stay up late gaming, just… Please, please, open your eyes”

Day 6

“Okay, you were right. Rhysand is good, Tamlin is not good”

When my parents came yesterday, they brought me the books I was reading. Both of them were surprised I started reading, something I barely did before meeting Violet.

“You know? Now I think I understand why you said that we are like Rhys and Feyre. And I agree” I sighed, holding her hand. “I see us… Maybe I should dye my hair black? Rhys has black hair and is tanned. I don't have purple eyes, but…”

I smile weakly, kissing her hand and leaving the book on my lap.

Her face is less swollen than a few days ago, she only has bruises now and scars of the cuts. Her doctor gave me a cream I can put on the scars so they won't leave a big mark on her skin.

I sighed and continued my reading, but I was interrupted by my phone receiving a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” I sighed, frowning.

“I'm talking with Lando Norris?”

“Yeah, who is this?” I frowned, swallowing thickly.

“I'm calling from the police department. We made an investigation about the car crash where your car was involved a week ago. And we would like to talk with you”

“L-look… I think right now is not the right time” I sighed, rubbing my face. “My girlfriend is in the hospital. I can't leave right now”

“It's related to what caused her crash” he said. “It wasn't an accident. It was intentional”

“What?” I frown, getting up from the chair and walking away from her bed. “What do you mean it was intentional”

“The brakes were manipulated. Someone manipulated them” he sighed. “We can investigate who it was”

Someone manipulated the brakes. Someone wanted to… No. Not her, the Audi is not her car.

“Someone wanted me to crash” I said, swallowing thickly. “The car was mine”

“We will search for the person who did this” he nodded.

“Can you please look at the street cameras around where we currently live” I said, swallowing thickly, somehow scared of what the conclusion would be. “I have been receiving pictures of someone invading our privacy, receiving threats. I think that person would be the same one that tried to…”

“We will work on it” he said. “Thank you for telling us that”

“Y-yeah, just please, get that person away from us”

I ended the call and sat on the table, looking at the wall in front of me, not believing what was happening.

Someone tried to kill me. Someone manipulated the brakes of my car to make me have an accident like the one Violet had. Someone wanted me dead, and instead, Violet is there in the bed unconscious.

I didn't want to trust what my mind was saying, refusing to recognize the name that echoed in the back of my mind.

Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry.

He wouldn't, right?

Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry.

“Fuck” I gasped.

Eloise had the same crash she had. And what did she have in common with me? Violet.

No, no, it can't be. He wouldn't do something like that to Eloise… Right?

My body worked alone and soon I heard the beeps of my phone next to my ear, and after that the same voice of the officer that talked with me minutes ago.

“I think I have a name” I mumbled.

“Oh? Are you sure?” he said surprised.

“I wouldn't like to be” I sighed. “Harry Greyson. He… He was a friend of ours. But I think he did really bad things to us, to all of my friends. His girlfriend… My girlfriend's best friend died last year in December. They said it was because of the snow, but I wouldn't be so sure. Please, just find answers”

“We will investigate him. Thank you for the name” he said.

“Y-yeah” I nodded, swallowing thickly and ending the call.

Would Harry do this? He would do anything to have Violet, right? But… If he wanted her since the start, why never go for her? Why dating Eloise?

“Fucking hell…” I groan, messing my hair and looking at Violet. “I swear to God. If he did this to you, he's a dead man. I swear, Violet”

Day 8

I hated this. I hated the uncertainty of not knowing what was happening was killing me.

The police started an investigation, they looked at the street cameras that are near Violet's apartment as well as where Eloise used to live. But they never called me back to give me updates of it.

And to make it worse, a week has already passed since the crash.

“I hate this, love” I whisper while holding her hand. “I hate so much that I can't do anything to make you wake up. Are you even hearing? Can you hear me? Just move a finger please, because I think I'm going crazy. Will you wake up? What should I do?”

I was so uneasy. The calm part of me wanted to stay here and wait for her to open her eyes, holding her hand and whisper sweet nothings. But the mad part wanted to walk out and find Harry, get answers.

“What should I do?” I sighed, swallowing thickly when I felt the tears coming back. “I want to punch and kick the shit out of him. I want answers, Violet. What if he's not who we think he is? And I'm afraid of being right, but… What if he is the man that was stalking us? What if he was the reason Eloise died? What if he did everything because of you? Because he's sick and only wants to have you as his puppet?”

I swallowed thickly and looked at her. If I'm right… What should I do?

“He has to go to jail, Vivi..” I whisper. “Right? The police will call me soon, I can feel it. I gave them his name, just in case”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

This is a nightmare, and it only will end once this finally ends.

The day passed slower than I wanted. Max and Pietra came to spend the afternoon with me, but that didn't stop my anxiety whenever I received a notification.

“What is going on?” Max frowned.

“I just…” I sighed. “The police called me. They said that the crash wasn't an accident. Someone wanted me to crash, hoping that I was the one getting in the car. And somehow that made me think”

“About?” he whispered.

“Harry” I sighed, shaking my head. “I don't know. I just… I don't know. His name somehow came to my mind and things started to click immediately”

“But, how?” Pietra frowned. “Why?”

“I never told you, neither Violet. Someone was sending me pictures of us. Someone is stalking us” I said. “And it has to be someone that knows where Violet lives. You two know it, and I highly doubt it would be one of you. Eloise knew too, and… she's dead. Who else knew where she lives?”

“Harry” Max nodded.

“Exactly” I sighed, swallowing thickly. “I'm not going crazy, right?”

They looked at each other and then at me, smiling weakly.

“I have to find him” I said firmly. “For Violet”

“What? No. Lando!” Max frowned. “Going to him won't make Violet wake up. You are not an Avenger or something in the style”

“I know! But I need answers, Max” I said. “I need to know why he did everything he did”

“You are assuming he was the one that caused the crash” Pietra sighed. “You are angry, we get it. But please… Don't do something stupid”

I took a deep breath and looked away from them, fixing my eyes on Violet. I need to do something, I can't stay here with my arms crossed and waiting for a miracle.

And then my phone started buzzing, with the same number of the call I received two days ago.

“Hello?” I answered the call, swallowing thickly when I pressed the speaker button.

“We have him” the officer said. “Harry Greyson has been under arrest since this morning. You were right, he was the one that invaded your privacy and the one that manipulated your car”

“Oh, thank God” I swallowed thickly, sighing with relief.

“But he wants to talk with you. He didn't even call a lawyer. He only wants to talk with you” he sighed.

“What?” I frown and took a deep breath. “Okay, I'll go”

I ended the call before Max could complain.

“Lando!” Max sighed, shaking his head.

“It will be safe. He's under arrest, you heard it” I said. “With chains and all, I'm sure”

I took a deep breath and stood up, looking at Violet. I don't know when she's going to wake up, the doctors said she should be already awake… Why is she not awake?

“Please stay with her” I asked them, grabbing my phone and wallet.

“You are joking, right? Come on, Lando!” Max exclaimed. “Don't do something you will regret”

“I have to, Max” I sighed. “I have to know the truth. I have to know why he did that. He wanted me dead! If I was the one in the bed, you would do the same, right?”

I took a deep breath and looked at him, watching how he lowered his head and sighed. I'm letting my anger take control of my emotions, and I absolutely hate the feeling of that.

“I'll come back, okay? Just… Stay with her”

Before they said anything I was already walking out of the room, feeling my heart beating strongly against my chest. This was the first time I'll leave Violet since she's hospitalized, and somehow that made me feel anxious.

What if something goes wrong while I'm not here? What if she thinks I left her? What if… What if, what if, what if…

But I was already on my way to the police station, getting out of the taxi and going to the reception and saying that an officer called me. And before knowing it, I was sitting in front of Harry.

“Well, well” he smirked.

“You did it” I frowned. “You manipulated the brakes of my car”

“What makes you think that?” he laughed.

“You are the only one left of our group that knows where Violet lives” I frowned.

He looked at me with a grin that made me feel goosebumps. It wasn't the smile he used to have when we were kids, that mischievous smile he had whenever we planned something funny or when we made a prank. No, that was a scary grin with a gaze that only meant something bad.

“It's all her fault” he said seriously, but not erasing that smile. “She was the one that started it all. With that smile and that stupid behavior. If she kept smiling in that way to everyone, she would be in trouble. She smiled at me first, she chose me!”

I frowned looking at him. Is he being serious?

“But of course, those guys came” he scoffed. “What were their names? Oh, yeah! Jared the cheater, Michael the snob and Owen the…”

“Don't you dare to say it” I frowned, swallowing thickly, clenching my jaw

“Whatever” he scoffed. “It was pretty easy to get rid of them at the start”

“What?”

“Oh yeah! It's really impressive how easy it is to make her believe things, hm? A picture sent by an anonymous saying that Jared is cheating on her but actually he's hugging his cousin. And threatening Michael was really funny, you should have seen how scared he was when I broke his car with a gold club. But Owen? Oh, Owen was harder than I thought, but the end was pretty satisfying. It was so disappointing noticing that he loved drinking, but he didn't even notice the powder on his shot as he drank it. And hearing her scream for help, panicking while the man she said she loved only wanted to have fun... I was so disappointed with you, actually. You, the man that was so crazy in love with her since you met her… You, who always tried to find a second to be close to her but couldn't hear her screwing for help”

I swallow thickly, feeling nauseous. He did this, all for her. I was right, and I hated being right in this. Hearing him talk this way was like talking with a stranger.

“Why?” I groaned, clenching my jaw. “Why did you do all of this?”

“Oh, because it's so funny! It's so funny watching how she runs back to me! How, after everything, that stupid smile was only to me!” he laughed. “But then Eloise started to get too involved. She wanted to spend more time with her, to have her all for herself. She invited her to that stupid trip you planned and wanted to spend time with her. And let's not forget all the times she tried to set you up with her. Why?! Violet is mine! Why would she want to spend more time with her?! And then you… You started to put stupid things on her brain. Telling her things about me! How dare you?!”

“Because you are crazy! You manipulated her!” I exclaimed, but he stood up and it made me flinch. Something about him scares me, maybe the fact that he was chained to the table or his gaze of psychopath.

“You should be the one that got in the car and died!” he exclaimed. “Not her! It was easy with Eloise! But you… You did it! You killed her!”

“She's not dead” I mumbled. “She's not dead and she will hate you until she can't remember you”

“Nah, I don't think so” he smirked. “She will always come back to me. You will hurt her, maybe cheat on her with one of those models that walk around the paddock and then she'll come back to me. Right where she belongs”

I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone from the pocket of my hoodie, placing it on the table, in front of me.

“She won't, Harry. Give up” I said, stopping the recording. “She's with me, she's happy”

It was so quick. The moment he got up again and tried to wrap his hands around my neck, two guards walked in and grabbed Harry by the arms, making him sit while he screamed. I just got up and walked out, with an intense need of throwing up as soon as I walked out of that room.

Never in my life I imagined he was able to do something like this. Never in my life I imagined he would kill someone and try to kill me.

The officers that walked next to me gave me a weak smile as they walked me out of the police station, talking to me. But I wasn't listening, not understanding what they were saying.

“Harry will be sent to jail” one of them said. “After talking to you he made a confession, he will go through a court, but that won't save him”

“Y-yeah, okay” I nodded, just wanting to get away from here and go back to Violet.

I took a deep breath and called a taxi, going to the hospital while looking at the screen of my phone. He really said everything, he really told me everything.

How on Earth could he turn into someone like this? Why on Earth did he get so obsessed with Violet?

“I'm back” I sighed, closing the door of her room behind me. “Guys… I was right. He…”

“Lando” I heard her.

“Violet?”

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 10 months

Note

Promot 18 and 9 for johnny storm please

.⋆｡On Fire｡⋆.

Johnny Storm x plus size reader

Johnny is ok at being a hero, he’s good at extreme sports and he’s a god at sex, but feelings- he can’t do those

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, FWB to lovers, angst, shower sex, Johnny’s a bit of an asshole, I accidentally wrote Johnny as an American Jamie Tartt and I can’t find myself getting mad at it, fluff

WC: 1.2k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

3000 Follower Celebration

“Holy fuck this pussy is goddamn magical.” Johnny groaned into your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your delicate skin. Cold water rolled down your body, the hot water having long been used up. His thick cock buried to the hilt inside you, his hands firmly planted on your wide hips as he drove into you.

“Johnny I love you.” You moaned. Your back arched as yet another orgasm began to build in your stomach. You reached back for him but only succeeded in skimming his abs with the tips of your fingers. He retaliated by punching into your cunt even harder, forcing your naked chest into the chilled shower tiles and away from him.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned through gritted teeth. Heat began to grow behind you and Johnny’s cock somehow got even hotter inside of you. His right hand released your hip and captured your clit between his fingers, strumming you desperately to your end. “Fuck!”

Heat exploded deep within you and drove you over the edge. “God baby.” You moaned and slumped forward, letting your body relax underneath the cool spray of water.

“Damn baby, that was a good one.” Johnny slapped your plump ass in a friendly manor and pulled out of you.

You winced at the feel of his release escaping you as you stood up straight, letting the water wash your previous activities away. “Yeah it was.” You dismissed. Johnny raised a brow at you as you walked past him, grabbing one of his very expensive white towels on the way out.

“Where are you off to? Got some hot date?” He teased, trailing behind you. You didn’t even glance at him while you grabbed your clothes.

“No but you do. Diamond has been dying to finally get under you.” You sneered her name as you pulled on your panties. He scoffed.

“So what, it’s not like I’m actually dating you.” You froze, your stomach dropping.

“Yeah, I know.” You slipped on your sweater and grabbed the rest of your things. “Goodbye Johnny.” And this time, your goodbye actually sounded real.

——————

Johnny stared at his phone like it had offended him. “What’s up your ass today?” Ben planted himself in his reinforced chair across from the younger man, coffee cup in hand. Johnny just glared at him.

“Y/N’s been ignoring him for a week now.” Sue sat next to her little brother, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What did you do?” A murderous gaze levelled at him.

“I didn’t do anything!” Johnny retorted with a whine. A notification lit up his phone and he immediately abandoned the conversation in favour of grabbing his phone. He let out a sigh of disappointment, it was just a message from yet another one night stand.

Even without eyebrows, Ben’s brow raised. Johnny crumpled. “I didn’t do anything.” He muttered almost shamefully. “She just left my place the other day and hasn’t called me back even though I’ve texted her like 20 times! That’s 19 more times than I usually do!”

Richard suddenly appeared behind his wife. “And we ask again, what did you ‘not’ do?”

Johnny sighed heavily and slumped over the table. He propped his chin up on the counter, staring off into nothing. “I thought she didn’t mean it, I mean I was in the middle of blowing her back out!” The others winced but he continued. “She said she loved me.”

“And did you say it back?” Sue asked. The silence was all the answers they needed.

“And you’re still seeing other people?” Again there was silence but he nodded.

“And is she?” He shook his head.

“You’re a fucking idiot and you most definitely do not deserve a good woman like that.” Ben slammed his palm on the table, shaking the ground with the force. “Absolute piece of shit, can’t believe how stupid he is.” Ben muttered as he walked away.

Sue and Richard watched him go before turning back to the youngest member of the group. “Johnny, you know what she’s ignoring you. You broke her heart and I think it’s now breaking yours.” She squeezed her brother’s shoulder. “And I agree with Ben, you kind of deserve it.”

“But, maybe you can fix this.” Richard spoke up. “It’s never too late if you really do love her.”

Johnny glanced at his brother-in-law sceptically. “But I don’t love her. I mean I guess I like having her around. She’s incredible in bed and she makes these pancakes that are out of this world. And when she sleeps next to me, I sleep better than I ever have. And when she smiles at me, I get this weird feeling in my stomach. And sometimes when I’m out shopping I look at rings. But that means nothing!” He paused and looked at Sue. “Right?”

She just looked at him, her eyes softening. “Right?”

Sue laid a kiss to the side of his head. “I think you know the answer to that already.”

——————

The bottle of red was halfway gone when the knock on your door came. You groaned and forced yourself up from your extremely comfortable couch, stumbling only once as you made your way to the door.

“What are you doing here?” The one and only Johnny Storm stood on your doorstep looking like a lost puppy.

He looked at you with those huge blue eyes that had made you fall into his bed more times than you could count. “I was an asshole.”

“Yes you were.”

“And I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings like that.”

“Correct.”

“And I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door because you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry and that I- shit c’mon. I looo- I can’t say it but you know what I mean.” You raised an eyebrow at him causing Johnny to sigh.

“Ok well I can’t say that but I do feel it. You’re absolutely amazing and a complete bombshell. And when I’m around you, I can be myself, not Johnny Storm, not the Human Torch, just me. You have been by my side through so much, even before we started sleeping together, which was a great decision by the way cause we are fucking awesome at sex.” You couldn’t help but smile and agree with the sentiment. “You’re my person, you are my home, you always have been. So yeah, there’s that.”

He shrugged almost sadly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “This doesn’t fix everything, you know that right?” His shoulder’s fell along with his expression.

“But what you said does mean a lot to me, so you can come in if you want to but you stay at least five feet away from me at all times. You have a lot of grovelling to do before you’re allowed back in.” You emphasised. Johnny perked up and bounced up the steps, giving you a peck on the cheek as he passed. You allowed the affection and slipped in behind him, a little smile on your face.

Johnny was buried between your thighs barely 15 minutes later.

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arabzian · 10 months

Text

NANAMI KENTO X CAMGIRL!READER

synopsis: you are a camgirl who speaks daily to nanami, you are his absolute favourite and he spends a lot of his money and time on you. One day, he wanna see you in real life to spoil you more…

tags: prostitution, dom nanami, sub reader, blowjob, oral f receiving, a lot of cum, graphic description, dumbification. Nanami is 30 years old.

! The reader is 100% consent in this fanfic + English isn’t my first language so sorry…!

- He was a regular on this kind of site. The blond felt extremely lonely, and chatting with multiple girls in the same evening could indeed make him forget his loneliness for a night...only to feel even lonelier the next day.

- Nevertheless, when he came across your profile, he felt something of an emotional response. It's impossible for him to explain it rationally, but he'd been attracted by your pouty face and the cuteness of your profile description.

- After spending several days sending him sulphurous photos of you in all possible angles and positions. And also, after having him spend a lot of money. Nanami was ready to empty his entire bank account just to see you one night.

- You accepted. Now dressed in a long dress showcasing your beautiful womanly body, you were sitting in an Uber, heading to the address of the hotel that the thirty-years-old man indicated to you.

- When you arrived in front of the hotel, you were absolutely amazed by the beauty and grandeur of the place. You even wondered if you had the wrong address.

- You looked inside the hotel before receiving a notification on your phone.

Nanamin: I'm right behind you.

- You turned around to fall on the figure of a tall blond in a suit, his shoulders were wide and he looked impassive. Nanami seemed so stoic to you that for the first time in your entire life, you were intimidated by a client.

"Hi…," you greeted, shyly.

”You are so pretty… Did you have a good ride? Have you eaten yet?

- You answered with silence because you only nodded negatively to his last sentence.

- A sketch of a smile appeared on his lips, he didn't expect you to be so reserved. After all, you're a cam girl so he expected you to act with self-confidence in real life.

- But none of that. You were actually a little shy. And of course, he was even more surprised by your beauty. You're even more beautiful in real life.

- After inviting you to a luxurious restaurant in the city, where you had no idea how to pronounce the dishes on the menu, you were back at the hotel.

- The room was even more impressive than you imagined. Nanami smiled at the astonishment on your face and announced that he was going to take a shower.

- You nod your head and once you hear the shower water, you're comfortable on the bed. You took off your dress to unveil a lace lingerie set.

- In order to keep the effect of surprise, you put on the hotel bathrobe without closing it and you tried not to let the anxiety take over you.

”Calm down, he finds you sublime in the photos, he will also love you in reality”. Will you whisper to yourself.

- Nanami came out of the shower still soaked, a strong masculine smell emerged from him and the simple towel that he had around his waist revealed the musculature of his body.

- Oh, you only wanted one thing: that he would make you forget your first name.

”You're absolutely beautiful, I don't even know where to start,” he whispered as he gazed down at you.

- You noticed the nascent boner under his towel.

- He joined you on the bed and started kissing you. You sat on him and perpetuated the kiss. You kissed him all over his face, it was embarrassing to admit, but he attracted you so much that you couldn't stop.

- He laugh with tenderness after your butterfly kisses.

”Nanami, please stick your tongue out.“

- He obeys and you started sucking his tongue. He wanted to explode inside because he liked it so much.

- Then the blond man came down from the bed to kneel before you. He kissed your feet covered with the material of your knee socks.

- He licked the soles of your feet, kissed your toes, you felt worshipped like a goddess.

A man was on his knees before you kissing your feet. What a wonderful feeling.

- He went up his kisses to the inside of your thighs and then began to forage your femininity.

- His tongue played with you, he knew exactly where to press with his tongue to give you pleasure.

- Soon, you'll be pulling on his blonde hair as he gets more and more intense with your poor little pussy.

- He was torturing you with his fingers and his tongue, he was so focused that he could feel your breath getting jerky and your body shaking.

- When you gasped his first name, he anchored his gaze in yours and began to accelerate his movements so that you groaned his first name even louder.

”Nanamin...” you called desperately. ”I will...”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you ejaculated in his mouth. Now with the trickling jaw of your cyprine, he let go a mocking laugh.

' " It seems that the lady is quite sensitive.”

You blush with shame after he teased you, amused by your reactions, he thinks he's gonna have fun tonight.

Nanami put your thighs down perpendicular to his. He put his dick between your thighs covered by your socks and began to masturbate against your thighs.

You kiss each other while he enjoyed rubbing against the material in your socks.

”You are so good for me.” He groans.

Honestly, you loved what he did to you and he paid a lot of money just to be with you.

At that point, Nanami had the absolute green light on your body. He could do anything and everything to you and you knew you'd like it because it's Nanami.

You had absolutely no boundaries when it comes to him. He was so muscular, rich and good at sex. Nanami literally had a hold on you since you spoke to each other on the internet.

He drained a thick, hot liquid on your thighs. In a flash, he laid you down on the bed.

You were on your back and he was on top of you, his intense erection was facing you.

"Now, be a good girl, okay baby?"

You had absolutely the biggest kinks for pet names. You nodded meekly, patiently waiting for him to break you in half.

"We're going to play a little game."

He leaned to the ground and grabbed his tie. He began to tie your two wrists above your head with his tie.

You notice his big thing twitching when he looks at you. Completely vulnerable and at his mercy.

The fact of being tied up in this way highlighted your chest.

Your bra wasn't even a bra. It was ridiculously small and just covered your nipples.

Nanami was very sensitive to fabrics, he wanted to feel everything.

Always dressed in your bra that looked like a bikini top, nanami placed himself correctly on top of you and he began to place his dick between your breasts.

Your breasts were hugging and squeezing perfectly his dick which was already wet because of the pre-cum.

After masturbating with your thighs earlier, he was now masturbating between your breasts.

He passed his tip under each of the fabrics of your bra, feeling your nipples harden and appreciating the contact with the material of the fabric.

To be so much under someone's control, and on top of that, to hear Nanami moaning and using you the way he wanted made you so horny it was ridiculous.

Like a reflex, you opened your mouth wide by sticking out your tongue and he took the opportunity to suddenly penetrate your mouth with his dick.

You gasped with surprise when you opened your eyes wide. You looked at him with confused eyebrows as he smiled with satisfaction at seeing the shape of his dick through your cheek.

Always tied and helpless, you had his semen on your thighs, on your chest and soon in your mouth.

He held your head tightly and kept going back and forth in your mouth.

He waved his hips sometimes fast and sometimes slow and you could feel every inch of it on your tongue.

You felt your pussy get numb and wet.

Nanami went deeper and deeper and laughed at your facial expression. Oh, you liked it and it showed.

He started to moan too and under the excitement of the moment, he pushed his dick into the bottom of your throat.

The shape of his cock was visible from the outside. We could clearly see his dick in your throat.

He stood there for a second, moaning how good you were.

Without warning, he came into your mouth, you opened your eyes with surprise while trying to moan.

He put your hand in your hair like you were a dog.

"Good girl."

He withdrew from your mouth and all his semen trickled down on your jaw.

”Now we can start the serious stuff.”

You were trying to catch your breath, it's true that it was only the foreplay but you were already starting to look like nothing.

Always tied with his tie, you couldn't protest when he spread your thighs and rubbed his dick against your clit.

”I remember the texts. I know you prefer it from behind, but I don't know if I should give you this favor...”

You almost cry when you heard him say that. You wanted it from all your being and all he did was being mean to you.

Tears peaked at the corner of your eyes, you were trying to move to protest but the fact that you were tied up didn't help.

' Nanami, you such a meanie... I hate you!”, you whimper capriciously.

”I love you too.”

He smiles when he can't help but think you were so lovely even though you were covered in his sperm.

He wanted to see you a little more... Then he stopped rubbing up against you to penetrate you.

His big, wide dick finally penetrated into your poor, sore little pussy. The thickness of your lips would squeeze him so hard that he let go of a whimper as he entered.

His dick remained tight between your walls. It was so warm and welcoming. He felt at home there.

He pulled you by the arms while he waved his hips into you.

Your chest bounced every time he moved, and it seemed to you that the walls of the room were becoming abstract.

Nanami was going absolutely feral on you. You deserved all this so much.

He took advantage of the position to straddle you and suck your breasts. Little hickeys were born there.

"Nanamin," you almost called crying. ”Stop I'm sensitive here...”

He continued to suck you even harder while screwing you even faster.

Drool was starting to flow from your jaw.

Without warning, he changed your position and took you in a doggy.

You felt everything so deeply, and he did too. He grabbed one arm for him to look at your face. The sight on your ass, your back and now on your tearful face made him want to make you pregnant.

”Nanamin let go of me...

He didn't answer you, and instead he grabbed your other arm.

Now he was blowing your back by pulling you by both arms.

Your chest was levitating above the mattress and your back was so arching that nanami was going to break you in half.

”You're such a little slut, I love you so much.”

You weren't thinking anymore. You only had one thing in mind: his dick.

Nanami ejaculate into you without warning. He had the biggest breeding kink ever.

As his sperm poured into you, he grunted like an animal.

You were trying to catch your breath, but before you knew what he had just done, he put you against him.

With your back against his muscular torso, his arm raising your legs to gain better access to your pussy, he continued to penetrate you.

He was a monster. How could a man with such a closed face and such a strict posture be like that in bed?

If he continued like that, he'd get you pregnant.

You would have liked to tell him, but you couldn't even talk anymore. Apart from stammering his first name, crying and drooling, everything that came out of your mouth was literally incomprehensible.

”I am going to take so much care of you”, he whispers in your ears while you were crying in distress.

All positions passed through and all places in the room as well.

Right now, you had your breasts glued to the window while he ripped you from behind.

Your breasts were compressed against the window, normally it would have hurt you but in your case when it comes to sex: pain is pleasure.

Nanami grabbed you then and threw you against the table. With your belly against the table and your ass highlighted, he actually seemed to like it in doggy style more than you did.

Suddenly, as you were reaching your climax, he withdrew from you. You opened your mouth of surprise and he took the opportunity to stick his big dick full of pre-cum in your mouth.

You didn't have time to figure out what was going on when he cum into your mouth.

He threw his head back and let go of a sigh of relief.

”This is so good...”

While you still have his dick in your mouth, he looked at you.

"Hey princess, would you mind cleaning me up?"

Without understanding how or why you did that, you obey him.

Kneeling in front of him, you sucked his dick. No, sucking wasn't strong enough to describe what you were doing. You sucked the soul out of him completely, you swallowed his dick and swallowed every drop of his liquid.

While your mouth was moving so vigorously, Nanami had his hand gently resting on your head.

He grabbed his phone, which was right on the table where he had just fucked you.

He opened his paypal app and made a transfer of about 5,000 dollars in your account.

And it wasn't over, he was planning to stay with you tomorrow and take you shopping and buy you absolutely everything you wanted.

You fully deserved it, he was absolutely obsessed with you. You were his little princess.

psa: I love him so so much omg

#nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento smut #nanami headcanons #nanami kento #nanami kento imagine #nanami x reader #black reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami smut

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darlingmbappe · 1 year

Text

The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

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

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

#kylian mbappe angst #kylian x reader #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappé x reader #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fluff #neymar jr imagine #neymbappe #neymar angst #achraf hakimi x reader #achraf hakimi #futbol imagines #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

No More | [3] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i think i have a storyline. i’m winging the SHIT out of this y’all it’s not even funny. (…maybe a top gun-ish au but we’ll see) I LITERALLY CANNOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO KEEP THIS GOING BUT I KEEP FINESSING??? WHAT IS HAPPENING. this sucks too but whatever. i love it. messy is messy and i love it

warnings: angst, cussing, MEDICAL ATTENTION/INACCURACIES, cerby being both useless and useful but we love him, MENTIONS/ALLUSIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE (NOT ABOUT ANYONE FROM 141), cussing, violence, trauma, Top Gun ;)

summary: It takes time heal a wound that big. Alejandro and Soap are big oafs, you have unwanted conversations in person and in text, one with Keegan and one with your elusive best friend back home.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Against Simon’s best protests, you found yourself sitting at your desk on base, already gone over files you meant to before the mission. Your pen hadn’t stopped writing as you signed off on patient notes, confirming what you had put down when you examined them.

It was nearing ten in the morning when your personal phone began to buzz. You glanced up from your notes, grabbing it and looking at the notifications.

ROOS: Alive?

It was your best friend. He texted you every few months to make sure you were, indeed, alive. He fought you tooth and nail about you joining the 141, that’s why you don’t talk as often as you used to.

YOU: Maybe. What’s up?

ROOS: Just checking

YOU: You okay?

ROOS: Had a bad dream.

ROOS: Are you okay? Are you safe?

It wasn’t often that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw asked if you were safe. It wasn’t often that he texted you at all. Your nightmares were about surviving a plane crash, eating dinner next to frozen and rotting corpses in a town in Ukraine - his nightmares were of flying back day after you crashed to explode your plane so the enemy had no access to the technology, his nightmares were of the weeks of mourning he did of you because your rescue was a classified Special Forces op. That and sometimes, it was of the night you two don’t speak about anymore. He’s protective of you.

YOU: Yes, I’m safe. And at work. I’ve got like 10 guard dogs.

ROOS: Okay

YOU: One of them’s a real dog

YOU: Are you okay? Do you need me to call you?

ROOS: No

YOU: Was it about Ukraine or about Nevada?

ROOS: Nevada

Well, there goes the not talking about that specific traumatic night.

YOU: Do you want to talk about it?

A knock sounded at your door, you glanced up from your phone to let out a calm, “Come in.”

The door opened quickly as you heard the clack of claws on the concrete, you pushed your chair away - a smile invaded your face. Cerberus yapped like a puppy, his front paws coming to set on your thighs as you took his face in one hand, scratching his head with the other while still holding your phone. “Hi, baby.”

The German Shepherd shoved himself forwards, his wet tongue licking your nose and cheek - you pushed him down and laughed, “No kisses, honey, we’re working.”

“He likes you a lot more than he ever will me.” You looked up to see the familiar cloth skull mask of Keegan, his hands shoved in his pockets. You smiled at him.

“How’s your chest? Doing okay?”

Keegan nodded, moving forwards to place Cerberus’s blue leash on your desk. He shrugged, crossing his arms.

“Just came to say thank you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction, hands stopped petting Cerberus - who whined in annoyance. His wet snout pushed underneath your hand, trying to get you to continue to pet him. “I just did my job.”

He sighed, going to pull the chair opposite of you out. He sat down quickly, hands wringing each other. “You didn’t-“ He paused. “You almost died.”

“Part of the job.” Your eyes glanced at your files on your desk before you set your phone on your desk.

“I remember how bad your nightmares were when you first joined us.” He recalled, hands settling on his thighs before he finally locked eyes with you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re gonna be okay before we leave.”

“So soon?” Your eyes widened with surprise. “I thought Price was keeping you guys here for a couple more months.”

“That plant they’re building is something big. Caught the eyes of the US Navy, which means-“

“Top Gun.” You finished for your friend, he gave you a knowing look. The only thing he knew was that something bad happened to you on a mission in Top Gun, he knew about the nightmares.

“Look on the bright side,” Keegan’s voice pulled you from almost jumping off the precipice into what could happen. Your hands clenched into fists. “You’re a very important medical Captain, and you’re not under their jurisdiction anymore.”

You would think. You wanted to say that Laswell kept you as a standby pilot, even though she promised you she’d never make you fly. So, in the eyes of the US Government, you were still a Top Gun asset. A damn good one at that, to the point you knew that Top Gun was pestering Laswell for you back. You wouldn’t tell Keegan that though - he’d rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

Keegan cleared his throat. “You don’t ever have to fly again, Mercy.”

Before Ghost, there was Keegan who woke you from nightmares. Sure, he wouldn’t hold you but he’d sit next to you and quietly talk about something random, something informational - like the design and sinking of ships. If you put thought to those talks, you would be able to talk about his favorite ships. He was a good friend, incredibly loyal. You were the same.

You nodded, hands going back to pet Cerberus, whose head had settled on your thigh, eyes gazing up at you. You looked at him and smiled, scratching behind his ear. He let out a happy little yap before you looked back at Keegan, a solemn nod came from him.

“You know my number, Mercy.”

“Rest up, Sergeant.” You commented, he stood then.

He walked towards the door, opening it before he took a brief pause, looking back at you. “Be careful with Ghost.” And with that, he was out the door and had shut it behind him. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Keegan had known you two had been together since… you got together. What does that mean?

Cerberus whined, making you look back at him. He raised his paw and smacked your leg, you pet him with one hand as you grabbed your phone again, seeing more messages from Rooster.

ROOS: Trying to wake you up in your apartment. Then it was me running to the ER with you in my arms.

ROOS: I hated that feeling

ROOS: I still hate it

ROOS: I’m sorry I’m bothering you

ROOS: Please don’t tell me if you have a boyfriend again

You internally groaned, knowing how incredibly protective he got of you because of your last relationship - which was almost five years ago. You kept scratching behind Cerberus’ ear, his leg thumped against the floor.

YOU: …Surprise?

ROOS: I think I’m going to have a heart attack

ROOS: I’m gonna throw up

YOU: If it makes you feel any better, we’ve been together for a year and a half and he hasn’t done anything to me other than make me overthink things. He loves me and I know he does

ROOS: It does not make me feel better you ass. YEAR AND A HALF AND YOU HAVEN’T TOLD ME

ROOS: And stop fucking saying shit like ‘oh he loves me, he loves me not’ . That’s exactly what happened last time, you’re starting to fucking freak me out

YOU: I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s a good man.

ROOS: Last time you said that I broke my entire hand in a man’s face. Please tell me you’re safe

You wouldn’t have taken that shit from anyone else. If anyone snapped at you like that in person, they’d be on their back with a knife on their throat. By you or your guard dogs - Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro; Rudy, if you asked nicely. All the men you’ve grown to cherish their companies.

You began to type to Rooster again when there was another knock on your door, three in rapid succession. Your eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed. “Yes?”

The door flung open, Cerberus whined when you stopped scratching his ear as you stood, seeing Soap stumble in with a hand on his head. You flung your phone onto your desk, eyes widened. Right behind him was Alejandro and, unsurprisingly, Ghost. You were immediately around Cerberus and your desk, reaching for Soap as he groaned in pain. “What the Hell happened?!”

“Muppets got too involved in their trainin’.” Ghost growled, Alejandro gave you a smile to which you noticed the bloody gash on his forehead.

“You’re both idiots.” You grabbed Soap’s arm and pulled him towards your cot, motioning Alejandro to follow. Cerberus weaved through your patients effortlessly, immediately going straight for Ghost. He pawed at Ghost’s leg while you forced and Sergeant and Colonel to sit on your makeshift examination table. Both of them stared at you, Soap looked like he was out of it. You grabbed a pair of medical gloves, pulling them on quickly.

“Also might be nursin’ a hangover.” Soap mumbled, you rolled your eyes. Of course he had gone out last night. You would have smacked him upside the head had he not been cradling it. You forced him to move his head, seeing the bloody gash on the back of his head near his mohawk.

“Christ, how hard did you headbutt each other?” You mumbled, going to grab your med kit.

“Was his fault.” Alejandro murmured, closing his eyes. “Feels like he cracked my head open like a coconut.” You pulled out your pocket flashlight from your vest, making Soap face you again.

“Keep your eyes open and look at my nose.” The Scot blinked a few times before staring at your nose, you flashed the light into his eyes - they were both reactive, so there wasn’t brain damage. You held up your finger. “Follow my finger.” His eyes followed your finger back and forth, he was responsive so you weren’t worried. You put the flashlight back in your vest before moving Soap’s head again to look at the gash. “Helluva hit, fellas.”

“Thanks.” Both Soap and Alejandro said, the Colonel laughed.

“Didn’t mean to hitcha that hard, hermano.” Soap mumbled as you moved to Alejandro, instructing him the same way. Look at my nose, follow my finger - his coffee like eyes were sinkholes, he did as you told him. If you had taken a moment to set back, you would’ve said that he was your new version of Rooster. A Special Op Limited Edition, with better maintained hair and great jawline.

If you weren’t so enraptured by Simon, you would’ve dove for Alejandro the second he gave you any sort of glare. But no, you’d choose your ice cold boyfriend over a cowboy casanova. Maybe in another life.

You moved the Colonel’s head towards you. It was a thin cut on his forehead, jagged but nothing a small bandage can’t fix. You turned around, peeling off your gloves before grabbing your phone. You opened it, amazed at how many texts Rooster had sent.

ROOS: Please don’t ignore me right now I will get Ice on the phone this instant

ROOS: I mean it

ROOS: Sorry you’re probably busy

ROOS: Just stay safe please.

ROOS: I can’t have a repeat of that shit .I’ll lose my mind

ROOS: Call me when you’re free

ROOS: Please

ROOS: I really don’t want to have to go detective on you and show up at your doorstep like a dog

ROOS: Cause I will

ROOS: You’re worrying me, please don’t make me have to call Mav. If I have to call Mav you will never hear the end of it I SWEAR IT. YOU’LL HEAR ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU’RE DEAD

YOU: I’m working, I’ll text you later

“Dramatic bitch,” You mumbled to yourself before turning your phone off. You moved across the room to your sink. You began to wash your hands as Cerberus poked you with his nose. You glanced down at him. “Go play with Dumb and Dumber, buddy. I’ll be a minute.”

The dog whined, pawing at your leg and poking you with his snout again. He wasn’t alerting, he was trying to get your attention. A search and rescue dog like Cerberus had no job right now since he was on base, except to sometimes get in your way. You gave him a sharp glare. “Now.”

Cerberus let out a loud whine of annoyance before he huffed, walking away towards Alejandro.

“Don’t have to be mean to the poor dog, lass.” Soap commented, you shot him a glare when you dried your hands with a paper towel. He threw his hands up.

“He knows I’ve got stuff going on, he likes to be bothersome.” You pulled on new gloves and grabbed the equipment you needed, moving your chair over to the cot with your foot. You sat down gracelessly, setting bandages and hydrogen peroxide on your lap. You pulled a cotton swab from your vest, opening it and then dousing it in the peroxide.

You took Soap’s head in your hand and moved it again, letting the light shine into it as you dabbed on the peroxide - the man flinched.

“You’re usually chatty, hermana - what’s wrong?”

You glanced at Alejandro, tossing the swab into the garage can behind you. “Friend texted me. Chatted for a while.”

“You not like her or somethin’?” Soap asked, you settled the small adhesive bandage over his injury, sticking it to his shaved head with firm pressure. “You mind not pressin’ that hard?”

You smirked, waving him off. “You’re done.” The Sergeant smiled and stood, walking away from the cot while you faced Alejandro. “Bit of an argument, nothin’ new. Happens when you’ve known them your whole life.”

“Oh?” Alejandro smiled. “Like me and Rudy.”

You shrugged. “When I say my whole life, I mean as soon as I was brought home, I had a best friend.”

“Ah, not like me and Rudy.” He chuckled then, you cleaned the wound with another cotton swab and some peroxide - he didn’t even react.

“Not even close. I didn’t get a choice.” You threw away the swab, opening another bandage.

“You always have a choice in the people you keep company with.” Alejandro closed his eyes as you opened the bandage.

“Not when you’ve both put your lives on the line for each other without question, like I would all of you.” You mumbled, securing the bandage a lot softer than Soap. “Maybe not to the length I would for Roos, but it might be near it.”

“Roos?” Soap echoed, suddenly right next to you as you turned the opposite way to toss the trash into the bin.

“Nickname.” You shrugged, pulling off your gloves and standing. You gestured to the door. “You can leave now, just take some Tylenol if the pain persists.”

Cerberus whined as Alejandro stood, saying a quick farewell as he darted out the door - Soap lingered as you pushed your chair back to your desk. “You’re always so mean.”

“It’s,” You glanced at the digital clock on your desk. “almost eleven. I might just want to go get something to eat,” You sat down, throwing your feet up on your desk as you glared at the Scot. “Maybe I want to sit in silence like I was for the past five hours.”

“Aww, lass, you just wanna get railed by-“

“That’ll do.” Ghost’s voice boomed, making you jump a little as Soap whipped his head to look at his Lieutenant.

Cerberus found his way to you again, pawing at your leg. You reached forwards and scratched behind his ear as you watched Soap and Ghost have a small stare down. Soap backed down after a few seconds, glancing at you and then Ghost. “I’m going to take my leave.”

“As you should.” Ghost’s voice was low, both of you watched as he scurried out of the room, almost slamming the door behind him. You looked to Ghost, who visibly decompressed as he moved towards your cot in sluggish motions. He collapsed onto it, the cot let out a groan under his weight and his mask went straight into the white pillow you kept at the head of it.

You cocked your head to one side. “You hurt too?”

“No.” His voice was muffled.

“You’re just gonna sleep in here?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” You grabbed your phone again, hand leaving Cerberus as you pointed to Ghost. “Go lay down with Dad.”

The German Shepherd would never not take the opportunity to jump onto Ghost, even in a position like that. The dog sprinted the two feet away and jumped onto the Lieutenant’s back, he groaned loudly in pain. Cerberus’s tail wagged with a quick pace as he laid his head on Ghost’s shoulder blades. You quickly took a picture of it before sending it to Rooster.

YOU: oh no! my guard dog killed my guard dog :(

ROOS: THAT MAN IS HUGE .

YOU: Thanks! he’s mine :)

ROOS: I CANT KILL A MAN THAT BIG

YOU: Won’t need to. Pretty sure he’d die before he even raised his voice to me he’d be so ashamed.

YOU: I love him.

ROOS: you have got to stop having boyfriends. my heart can’t take it

YOU: You’re a clingy bitch.

ROOS: well at least someone cares for your well-being 🤍

YOU: My boyfriend does.

ROOS: Don’t fucking say that shit. I’m not getting traumatized again cause that guy is not a man, he is 100% a demon

YOU: LMAO

ROOS: HOW IS HE SO BIG

YOU: Idk. Go to bed idiot

ROOS: Fuck off

YOU: Love you too, clingy bitch.

ROOS: You’re a bitch too

YOU: All day, everyday.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”

You looked up from your phone, seeing now that he moved his head to look at you. Cerberus’s head rested where his nose settled right next to where Ghost’s ear would be. You put your phone down on your desk, putting your feet on the floor as you gazed at him. “I have never heard you say that before.”

“Maybe fuckin’ you would put your attention back on me.”

You rolled your eyes, setting back in your seat. “You’ll always have my attention. I’ve got to keep Roos updated before I get a search party sent on my ass.”

“Sounds clingy.” He murmured, you could barely see as his eyes closed.

“Sounds like what you would do if I didn’t answer your text right away.” You commented, looking at the files you had stared at all morning before stretching your arms above your head. “I’m probably gonna take a half day.”

Ghost hummed from the cot, Cerberus whined from above him. “Take the mutt with you.”

“Always.”

The man moved his body, making Cerberus jump from his back - Ghost groaned in pain. He rolled over like an oaf, since he was bigger than the cot itself. You smiled at him as he looked back to you. “C’mon.”

It was often that he would waltz into your office unannounced and collapse onto your cot, beckoning you to come lay on him. And you did, every time. You gracelessly climbed onto him, settling your head under his chin and stretching your legs out over his.

“You didn’t sleep last night.”

Your sort-of-happy mood completely fizzled out like a flame doused in water. You could’ve sworn he was asleep when you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, holding yourself in the bathtub until you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d do go?”

“Tub.” You murmured, hand crawling up his side and settling on his shoulder. “Had a bad nightmare.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t tell you about it.” You spoke immediately, the phantom feeling of flames licking your skin made you bury your face into his clothed neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well, uh…” His gloved hand went to your hair, petting you gently. “You know where I am.”

“Not really, not all the time.” You whispered, hand clutching his sleeve.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess not.”

“Is this your way of trying to make it up to me?”

He stilled a little, it wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t laying on his entire body. You drank in the fading smell of his musky cologne he wore sometimes, pressing the top of your head into the bottom of his jaw.

“It’s hard.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to.”

You moved your head up, raising it so you could see his eyes. “At least you’re trying.” You leaned forwards and kissed his cheek, then rolled off of him with a groan. “Alright, I’m going home. Need my key?”

He shrugged as you walked over to your small rucksack, checking what you had in it. “No, got the spare. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

You looked over your shoulder him, seeing his arm over his eyes. You shook your head before grabbing Cerberus’a leash from your desk and walking back to him. You placed a kiss on the exposed skin of his arm and spoke, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Mmhmm.”

_________________

Simon always made you take the car, the nice SUV he bought for himself yet will not drive - always makes up an excuse to have you drive, and you were grateful. You weren’t even sure he had a driver’s license, let alone any knowledge of driving. He was always keen to walk home anyway.

Cerby dove into the apartment as soon as you opened the door, he immediately sprinted his way to the living room. It wasn’t long before you heard a couple of glass bottles hit the rug and you groaned.

“Cerby, come here.” You called, dropping your rucksack on the floor and shutting the door behind you. You would have taken your boots off, but you had no idea what he had knocked over in the living room. You walked into it, seeing that your dog laid on the couch, tongue hanging out from his mouth and his ears perked. You rolled your eyes, looking down at the rug. There was three empty bottles of the bourbon you knew was Simon’s favorite, your eyebrows furrowed. You kneeled, taking a bottle in one hand and seeing how there was no alcohol left in it. Placing it on the table, you pulled the two other bottles onto the table before noticing a small folded piece of paper under where the bottles had lied.

A knot in your stomach began to tug as you grasped the piece of paper, pulling the piece of paper open and recognizing Simon’s handwriting.

My love,

I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it but, I do trust you. I trust you a whole hell of a lot.

But what we have isn’t worth the pain, I am not worth the pain. If you wanted me to leave, I would. No one has stuck around this long anyway, you won’t hurt me.

But I hate that I’m hurting you. I think the best choice is for me to leave. I’ll always be here for you, you have my number. I’ll send you where I’ll be. I’d rather you be happy without me than miserable with me.

I love you.

That felt like a punch to the gut.

It felt like a knife wedged in between two of your ribs, digging and twisting.

No one has stuck around this long anyway.

Is this the pain he felt, waiting for you? Drowning in his sorrows, going to leave you to save you pain? It made a part of you angry, yet all of you felt ashamed. You had hurt him too.

But he hadn’t left. He had to have written it before you came home because he did not spend one moment without you since you arrived home.

It hurt your heart that he thought his best decision was to run. It hurt to know that he probably felt scared, that he ducked back into that dark place in his head. He was drunk last night, he might not even remember himself writing it - but in case he did, you folded the note again. You placed it on the floor, placing the empty bottles how they were after Cerberus made them fall. You stood, feeling as if you had held a gun to Simon’s heart and pulled the trigger.

Even as you walked back towards your bathroom to shower, you could still feel the gunpowder residue on your hands.

———————

(comment for part 4! it will get better from here, i promise (aka more fucking angst HAHHA))

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mitsies · 1 year

Text

BREAKFAST IN BED ! ; megumi fushiguro > you try to surprise your boyfriend. it only kind of ends poorly.

megumi wakes to the smell of burning and the absence of you in bed next to him.

these are two signs that should tell him that his morning is going to have a very atypical turn, as he blinks the traces of sleep from his eyes and sits up in your shared bed. the burning sounds intensify from down the hallway. megumi checks the time— it’s 8 in the morning on a saturday.

typically, he’s the one who wakes up first, not you. your phone remains on your side of the bed, and he sees a snoozed alarm notification. you planned on waking up before him, he realises. something crashes from the kitchen, and megumi takes it as his cue to check out whatever the hell you were doing.

the kitchen may as well be a warzone. there’s unidentifiable burnt little squares that he assumes might be a failed attempt at french toast, with spots of powdery white flour exploded all across the countertops. an omlet with visible shells peeking through lies lonesome on a plate. the only thing that seems like it was made properly was a mug of steaming black coffee, just the way he likes his. in amidst this chaos, you stand with your back towards him, hunched over the sink scrubbing vigorously at a charred mass stuck onto a pan, doing your best to scrape it off before it’s adhered to the thing permanently.

the whole scene might be a disaster, but he feels a strange warmth (which you’ve taught him is love) pooling in his chest and sending heat sparking across his skin. it’s such a lovely thing, the world right then in your little apartment. he thinks he’d like to live in this moment with you for a long time as he silently moves to stand behind you, letting his hands support him on the countertop as he leans against your shoulder, pressing his chest near your back, greeting you with a rough voice, “morning, babe.”

inhaling sharply with a start, you drop both the cast-iron pan and the sponge you hold into the sink with a jump. warm water splashes all over the counter surrounding the sink, drenching your (his) shirt and splattering droplets over his face. you blink at him. “oh. it’s you.”

he gives you a look of faux-annoyance and thinly-veiled affection. “expecting someone else?”

“yeah, actually. was waiting for my other boyfriend. i made him breakfast.”

megumi snorts, taking his hands off the now-soaked countertop and letting one fall to your hip, pulling you close. “are you trying to poison the guy?”

you frown at him, huffing indignantly, “that wasn’t my intention. we have an unusable kitchen, actually. everything is broken.”

“mhm,” megumi hums, eyes flitting over the absolute carnage in the apartment, “super broken.”

“yeah. super broken.”

you untangle from his hold, much to his discresion, moving to pick up a washcloth to presumably try and dry up the water and the flour coating the counters. “why are you awake, anyways? it’s early and you have the day off, right?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” your boyfriend states. megumi moves to get another rag, taking on the spilt water all around the sink whilst you focus your efforts on the kitchen island.

you pause and purse your lips. “i already said. i was trying to make you breakfast.”

“i thought that was for your other boyfriend.”

he holds in his amusement as you make a face at him. “oh. yeah, him. my super tall and handsome and romantic and attractive boyfriend. yeah, i was trying to surprise him but,” you gesture vaguely to the remains that could hardly quantify as food, “it didn’t work out.”

megumi snorts a laugh. “really? where’s this boyfriend now?”

you dramatically slump into the countertop, a hand on your forehead, sighing theatrically, “i guess he’s not showing up. how tragic. i’m just so sad.”

he finishes wiping the sink area dry, moving to your side as you continue your monologue, “all my food is going to go to waste. after i spent so long on it, too.”

“i guess i could step in for your super tall, handsome, romantic, attractive boyfriend,” megumi muses with a lazy smile growing as you beam at him, “i’d be honoured if you’d have me.”

“have at it. though, i’m not sure how much of this is actually edible.”

he examines the array of food. from the burnt toast (?) to the eggshell-laden omlet, he’s not feeling too keen on trying out your cooking, as much as he loves you. but there’s one thing that might not kill him if ingested— the black coffee, sitting untouched by the plate. it’s not steaming quite as much, a testament to its age, but when he picks up the mug it feels warm in his hands. he raises a brow at you as you grin at him so widely that your face might split in two. his face flushes warmer than his drink at your undivided attention.

“don’t smile at me like that.”

your expression doesn’t waver. “hm? like what?”

“i dunno.. like that,” he waves a hand in your face and you laugh, swatting it away. a twin expression is reflected on his own features.

“my bad, babe. i’m just happy, i guess.”

he looks at you inquisitively. “happy why?”

“so nosey. can’t i be happy just because?”

“you’ve always got ulterior motives.”

you gasp playfully, gently bumping into his side. megumi tries his best not to let the mug spill at your movements while you continue. “so rude. i’m sorry i’m in a good mood.”

“i’m just asking why.” you hum contemplatively before letting your head rest on his shoulder from where you stand.

“being around you. i like mornings better when you’re there.”

megumi’s heart feels like it might explode in his chest. he’s so, infinitely lucky to have you, he thinks, just the luckiest that you’re his to love and his to hold and have and wake up with and make breakfast for since you couldn’t be trusted with a spoon and fork. he’s lucky you love him. megumi takes a sip from his coffee, and it tastes like love.

✄ this was written for the mitsies 3k follower event with the prompt "don't smile at me like that." "huh? like what?" "i dunno... like that."

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andreafmn · 2 years

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Speak - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @yuki254 @purplegardenwhispers and @zheezs14 for answering my last post. It's a bit heartbreaking but I rather do like angst and hurt/no comfort 😅 Paul will get his happy ending some day.

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Chapter 4

It was one thing to hear about the imprint bond and how strong it could be, but it was another to experience it. Hot-headed Paul always thought himself too good to have the universe choose who would be eternally connected to him through a supernatural bond – he’d simply choose who he’d spend the rest of his life with. It was his life and he would decide what to do with it.

It never crossed his mind that he’d see his imprint so soon, or that it would be the sister of a bloodsucker sympathizer.

That night he had been with the pack, like every night before, enjoying another bonfire in celebration of the departure of the Cullens. The only difference was that there was Christmas food and decoration. Other than that, it was a normal night.

Then, from afar, he picked up Jacob Black’s scent as well as an intriguing mysterious one. He could smell her, hear her, but he did not turn to look at her. Not yet. Jared and Paul remained throwing a football back and forth, ignoring the newcomer.

But it didn’t last long.

As he ran around the sand, laughing with his friends, he could feel eyes burning into his back. He did not want to give in to temptation. He did not want to turn his head.

Alas, he did.

The feeling was instant, and he recognized it immediately. As their gazes connected, he felt the way everything shifted. Every atom that made up his being screamed to get closer to her, every cell in his body yearned for her warmth, there was nothing in his body that was not calling for her. He understood what Sam had told him. The whole gravitational pull spiel and the priority shift, he understood. As much as he wanted to break their stare, he simply couldn’t. He wanted to stare into her eyes for eternity.

Jacob noticed that, and Paul could smell the jealousy from where he stood. She, (Y/N) he heard, was asking about him and Jake didn’t like it. Still, he had something over Paul. He was already close to her.

“It happened, didn’t it?” Jared questioned his friend with a knowing grin on his face. “Can’t believe it’s (Y/N) Swan. I mean, the sister of a vampire lover. That’s hilarious!”

“Shut up, Jared.”

“Ooh, and look at Jake,” he continued. “He’s got his arm on your girl. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“She’s not my girl,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “And there’s nothing I can do. I don’t even know her. So, leave it alone.”

“Now, look, they’re leaving. Together,” Jared continued to tease, though everyone could tell Paul’s wick was burning short. “Can’t believe Jacob Black is stealing your girl.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRL!” Paul finally exploded before he sauntered off.

“Let him go,” Sam whispered to Jared. “He just needs some time to cool off.”

Paul had no idea where he was going, but his legs were taking him further and further from the beach. The smell of ash and the ocean were soon replaced with the smell of the pine trees that surrounded him. And suddenly, the smell of car oil hit his nose.

Somehow, he had made his way to the Black residence, and he heard that sweet sound he had just witnessed a mere two hours before. But the words that were coming out of her mouth only worked to infuriate him.

“If you’re gonna do something, Jake,” (Y/N) teased. “Then do it.”

The wolf saw from far away how Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Paul could see as the other boy devoured (Y/N) like he was claiming her as his. And as he saw their hands roam, he couldn’t help the anger and jealousy that was bubbling under the surface. He wanted to walk up to them and rip the boy off her, but he knew that it would be absolutely psychotic. She didn’t know him and that would not be the right first impression.

He couldn’t stop the rippling he felt in his body. The anger only grew as he stared at the scene unfolding. He had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. Paul ran into the shadow of the woods letting his body transform into what it wanted. His body ripped as he allowed the shift to take over him.

Paul wanted to feel something other than anger. He wanted to feel the cold air of autumn nip at his lungs, the wind prickling at his eyes, the burn of exhaustion in his legs. He wanted to feel everything – anything but the call to her.

Sam had told them how the imprint bond felt. That those days he spent apart from Emily had torn his heart into two, always searching for its missing piece. He said it was an imaginable pain, and it simply got worse when she asked him to stay away and hurt her. Paul had always thought that he was stronger than any supernatural bong, but as he felt the ache in his chest, he knew this type of pain was not meant to be survivable.

So, he ran.

He ran until his legs felt almost numb, until his lungs were screaming at the cold air they were taking in, until the trees around him were simply a blur in his eyes. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be tied to another person, at least not like this. Paul always thought his love life was something he’d at least be able to control. Just that little aspect of his life he wanted to be able to make a choice for himself.

Paul ignored the calls from the other pack members, emptying his mind of any thoughts. Still, (Y/N) Swan still managed to sneak her way into his head. He could see her (Y/H/C) hair flowing in the wind, her curious (Y/E/C) eyes staring back at him, and her nose turning red in the cold weather of December. He could remember her scent, a sweet mix of almond vanilla with the signature pine smell of Forks.

Everything inside him was telling him to turn around. To go to her and explain everything, bringing her into the nonsensical world of vampires and werewolves and all in between. He wanted to simply feel her warmth close to him – he’d be satisfied with just that little. But he wouldn’t allow himself to. He kept running until he collapsed from exhaustion.

When his eyes fluttered open, morning had come and his body had turned back to human form. Beside him neatly folded clothes were placed and he knew Jared had found his wolf at some point last night. Paul didn’t feel like talking about what happened. He was sure they both already knew.

He couldn’t fathom the power (Y/N) already had over him. She had overtaken every thought in his head. Even if he only knew her name and what she looked like, he missed her.

As he dressed, an angry scowl had cemented itself on his face. Paul did not want the control the imprint bond brought. If he was going to be tied to someone, it was because he chose to, not because of a supernatural link. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Once more, his legs were taking him somewhere and he failed to know where. That was until his fist was knocking against the front door of the Black residence. Before his head had caught up to what he was doing, the white door was opening.

“Paul?” Jacob questioned. “What are you doing here?”

And he wasn’t completely sure, but apparently, his voice was. “You need to stay away from (Y/N),” he stated with unwarranted confidence — and maybe a tinge of anger.

“And why exactly is that? Last time I checked, she’s nothing to you.”

“Look, man, it’s a complicated thing. But just stay away from her,” he grumbled. “She deserves better than you.”

“And, what, that’s you?” Jacob scoffed. There was an offense to his tone. Who was Paul to come to his house and say he wasn’t man enough for (Y/N)? “You don’t even know her, Paul.”

“Jacob, you really don’t wanna cross me. So do yourself a favor and keep your distance. Got that?”

“Let me tell you how this is gonna go, Pauly,” Jake teased. “I’m gonna ask (Y/N) to be my girlfriend; she’s gonna say yes; and you’re gonna be in that weird gang with Jared and Sam, far from us. You got that?”

Paul found himself breathing heavily once again in front of the red barn house. Jacob had the upper hand here. He was close friends with (Y/N) and her sister. He knew their father. And he could tell that (Y/N) liked him. Even if he kept telling himself that he didn’t care for the link, every fiber inside him was already getting overprotective over her.

“Anything else?” At Paul’s lack of response, a cocky smile grew on Jake’s face. “Well, thanks for coming by. I’m actually getting ready to go see (Y/N) soon.”

Anger shook within Paul’s body as the door closed on his face. He could feel the wolf wanting to jump out and wreak havoc on the house, but no one really was to blame. He was no one to (Y/N), and he would continue to be no one if he didn’t do something about it. Still, all he could see now was red.

Jacob had known just the right words to send him into a spiral. He knew that Paul had no ground to stand on. (Y/N) knew nothing of him or why he wanted to be close to her. And he wasn’t thinking of changing that too soon.

“Let’s take a walk, Paul,” Sam’s voice boomed from behind the shaking boy. “You need to calm down.”

The pair walked in silence at first. With Paul practicing breathing techniques to calm himself down, and Sam was simply quiet. Even the world around them had seemed to quiet down. The soft whistling of the wind, the chirp of the birds, and the rustling of the trees had all died down.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Sam started.

“About?”

“We all know that you imprinted on the younger Swan last night, Paul. Maybe we should start there?”

Paul could only sigh. He knew exactly what the conversation would be about, but he simply didn’t want to face it. “There’s nothing for me to do,” Paul stated. “She’s with Jake. That’s that.”

“You know both of you will find it hard to resist the pull. As every day passes it’ll get harder and harder to stay away,” the older shifter explained. “There will come a point where you will have no other choice than to tell her everything that is happening — from who we are to why we are this way. You can try to avoid it for as long as you can, but sooner or later it will become unbearable.”

“I don’t see the point,” he chuckled dryly. “Why would I bring an innocent person into this world if she doesn’t need to be? You’ve told us we become whatever our imprint needs from us. She needs me to stay away.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Paul, and you know it. She needs to decide that for herself.”

“Well, it’s not like you can force me to tell her anything. This is my decision.”

“What’s gonna happen when she keeps coming here?” Sam retorted. “What’re you gonna do when she finds herself looking for you for answers? Are you gonna keep pushing her away?”

“If it’s what’s best for her, then yes.”

“Paul..”

“Look, Sam, I understand that you wanna help. But I didn’t t ask for this. I don’t want this,” Paul exclaimed. “(Y/N) Swan is complicated, and my life is complicated enough as it is. I made my decision. And that’s that. Now, can we just drop this?”

“Alright, Paul. But if you ever change your mind, know that you can always talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Paul didn’t want to change his mind. That much he knew at that point. But with his thoughts consumed by the image of her, he didn’t know how long that would last.

There was an independence he was used to. Paul had never been tied down by anything or anyone. He’d come from a broken home, where nothing lasted forever. Not even love. He’d known of heartache from a young age and it was something he knew he did not want to experience again. Least of all because his supernatural genes decided it to be so.

As he lay in bed that night, he remembered her on the beach. Her beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes gleamed under the moonlight, her pale skin warmed by the shine of the fire, her (Y/H/C) hair blowing in the wind of the night. She had been a vision to him. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Beautiful and untouchable.

Drifting to sleep, (Y/N) Swan was the last thing omg his mind. And suddenly, everything shifted.

He was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. He was dressed in white linen shorts and his feet and chest were bare. Paul breathed in the fresh air, listened to the low hum of the wind and the babbling of the brook, and felt the tickling of the grass on his feet. The sun felt warm against his skin, warmer than his body temperature, beckoning a smile to his face.

And Paul wasn’t by himself either.

“You look beautiful, darling,” he told her. “Absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” (Y/N) giggled. “Come here.”

He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.

He felt different than his usual self with her. The fire that normally burned inside him and made him feel like a ticking bomb wasted away. She made him feel calm, grounded. There was a homely feeling to having her in his arms. Like he had found a missing piece. She fit perfectly between his arms, like she was made to be there.

(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his shorts darkened.

“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. Paul was close to her, so close he could see his breath moving the water droplets on her face. “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.

“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”

He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.

There was a feeling rippling inside him that he’d never felt before. Sure he had a couple of girlfriends, and some flings here and there. But never this feeling. This sentiment was foreign and it took over his whole being. It flowed through his veins and settled in his heart. It was an emotion he had heard of time and time again but he never had a reason to feel it.

So he spoke of it.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

And she said it back.

“I love you more, Paul.”

Paul felt he would startle awake from the dream. But he wanted to witness more. He wanted to feel this feeling for as long as he could. Because he knew once he woke it would all disappear. All in the blink of an eye.

So, he shut his eyes harder and he kept dreaming.

And she was still there. In his dream, she was still there. Looking at her with so much love and joy that he was okay if he never woke. Here he was happy, unencumbered by his responsibilities as a shifter. Here he wasn’t part of a pack, he didn’t have to protect the people around him from the vampires that loomed or keep any treaty. Here he could simply be. And be with her by his side.

“What’re you thinking of in there?” (Y/N) smiled at him with so much warmth he could feel it inside him. Her lips kissed his forehead with a tender touch. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking of you,” he said. “I’m always thinking of you.”

“All good things I hope.”

“The best,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing bad I could ever think of you.”

“Tell me then,” she giggled. “Tell me one of the things you think of.”

“How I am the luckiest person alive because you chose to be with me. I’m still not very sure why you would choose me.”

“Because you chose me,” she smiled. Her hand traced his face like she was committing every line to her memory. “The universe really knew what it was doing by bringing us together, huh?”

“It seems so. Remind me again why it took this long?”

“We all know it was your stubbornness,” she laughed. “But never mind all that. This. This is all worth it. It’s all a dream.”

“A dream I never want to wake from.”

But a dream it all was. And a dream it would remain for Paul for the time being. He would stay away from her as much as he could — at least until his heart could take it. But he knew he could always see her in his dreams. A place where no one would speak of what he should or shouldn’t do with his life.

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