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#its been like. almost a year now of wanting to bite this man actually
koscheicore · 4 months
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I want to bite the Ainley Master. Like sometimes I just look at him and. CHOMP
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jeonstellate · 3 months
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my future in your eyes
mingyu still holds onto you, even after all this time.
๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader
๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au, exes-to-lovers!au — fluff
๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words
masterlist
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[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]
๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s as you are.
๑彡 i’m lowk proud of this ngl bc— it’s fluff, but it took me relatively quick to finish?? usually i get stuck for weeks if the wip’s fluff ><
Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.
Not that he uses his confidence to swindle strangers, as the dictionary suggests the title means. Rather, he exudes confidence — regardless of what he does.
There is always an air confidence around him. He can be in clothes that don’t fit the event’s theme and he’ll still seem perfectly dressed. He can be barely conversant in another language and he’ll still sound like he knows what he’s saying. He can just be standing there, doing nothing, and he’ll still appear like he’s doing something right.
Some people mistake his confidence for arrogance. Most find it admirable. But, in truth, Mingyu hardly cares.
Especially if his so-called confidence vanishes whenever you are in the vicinity and within his line of sight. Just like now.
He sees you in a table with Seokmin. Your back is towards him but he recognizes you, anyway. Despite the distance, he has no problem witnessing how animatedly you talk with your common friend.
It’s almost like he is back in college: you and Seokmin in one row, him and Minghao a few rows back. He can almost hear Minghao state matter-of-factly, "You’re staring," like he often does back then.
Really, all that’s different is Minghao’s currently preoccupied being the groom to comment on his staring. (There are definitely more things that are different now, but he doesn’t want to even begin thinking about them.)
Seokmin catches his stare. Not soon after, specifically before Mingyu can even look away, he sees him leave the table. Seokmin throws him a familiar meaningful look before disappearing into the dance floor.
Truth be told, Mingyu’s confidence comes naturally. It isn’t something that he purposely channels. It’s just always there . . . unless you are involved. Then, suddenly, he has to painstakingly gather the confidence to be near you.
"Is this seat taken?" He tries his hardest to mask his awestruck look with one of kind politeness as he waits your response.
He almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes lock into his. "You may sit if you wish," you offer him a small, polite smile. "I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon."
"Thanks." He effortlessly returns your gesture before situating himself on the chair your common friend abandoned. "How are you enjoying the party?"
"Really well, actually. I didn’t expect to recognize a lot of people from college." Your eyes don’t leave his as you answer. He tries not to stare back too intently, to look within your eyes to see something . . . anything. "And you?"
Mingyu waits for a beat, gathering enough confidence to say what he wants to. "Better now that you’re here." With me.
He lets out a barely audible embarrassed laugh. He has half a mind to take it back, but quickly changes his mind when he sees you biting your lower lip — an obvious attempt to stop yourself from laughing.
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. There’s pride in knowing he’s still able to make you laugh, despite it being your first meeting in literal years.
You look down in a presumable attempt to calm yourself down. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, though, as he refuses to lose you from his sight. As such, he immediately notices the sudden shift in your expression.
"You’re still wearing it." Mingyu follows your line of sight — and ends up looking at the source of your comment. His hand on the table, specifically the band of gold adorning his ring finger. "Our ring."
Our wedding ring.
You and Mingyu married soon after graduating from college. It had been a blissful marriage, one that filled a home with nothing but love and support.
Your divorce was on the basis of irreconcilable differences. It was a mutual decision, for the interest of your career paths diverging too far. There was never a bad blood.
"Ye— yeah." Mingyu stutters involuntarily. He clears his throat before continuing, "It’s a great conversational piece."
Although the divorce has been finalized years ago, Mingyu still plays the faithful and loving husband role in front of strangers. He uses the ring on his finger to his advantage: may that be to wordlessly signal that he’s already taken or to gain the favor of a potential sponsor.
Likewise, even if he knows the ring might be a disadvantage, he refuses to take it off — nor to purposely hide it from sight. The same way he never tells a stranger that he is no longer tied to someone else.
"Does it work?" You ask in wonder.
"We are conversing now, aren’t we?"
You chuckle, "Touché."
Mingyu wants to tell you that he hasn’t taken the ring off since you slipped it on his finger during your wedding. Not even after your divorce has been finalized all those years ago.
He wants to tell you his ring finger is thinner near his palm because of his adamant refusal to take his wedding ring off once in a while. Not willing to separate from the only physical reminder of your marriage, not even for a second.
He wants to tell you the ring is more than a conversational piece. He wants to tell you it’s his lifeline, something he can’t bear to lose. But he doesn’t.
Instead, Mingyu uses all the confidence he has gathered to ask you a simple question. "Dance with me?"
He offers you the hand adorned by his wedding ring. He tries not to show the uncertainty he feels by masking it behind a smile.
He almost lets out a relieved sigh when you place your hand on top of his. But he stops breathing momentarily when he catches sight of the sole jewelry adorning your hand.
"You’re still wearing it," Mingyu echoes your comment breathlessly. "Our ring."
He snaps his eyes back to your face, just in time to witness your smile widen. "Yeah," you say. "It’s a great talisman to ward off potential suitors."
He leads you to the dance floor, silently marveling at how your hand still fits perfectly with his. "Does it work?"
"It’s very effective," you assure him. "Although I don’t think it works well against ex-husbands."
Another slow song starts playing right when you reach the dance floor. You and Mingyu unconsciously claim your respective hand placements during your first dance — and for any waltz you danced after.
Then, suddenly, it’s like you traveled back in time.
Mingyu pulls you closer, a ghost of a smirk is at the edge of his lips. "I think it works well attracting ex-husbands."
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tragedybunny · 8 months
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A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader
Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)
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Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?
This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession
Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.
Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”
“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.
“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.
“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.
Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”
For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”
It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.
The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.
The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.
Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”
“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.
You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.
With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”
“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.
The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.
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saekkas · 10 months
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔
summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.
tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.
wc: 1.7k
notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.
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something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.
he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.
in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.
another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.
anything.
you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.
he isn't like that with you.
for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.
you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.
"so, how was the date?"
kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.
you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.
"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"
leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.
"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."
internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.
"thank you, that's very sweet of you."
he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.
"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.
only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.
"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"
the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.
"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."
you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.
"why? jealous?"
it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.
but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.
"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"
"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."
you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.
"you're so-"
his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.
"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."
translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.
"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"
kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.
your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.
he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.
you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.
"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"
translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?
"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."
he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."
"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."
his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"
"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."
you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."
there's the kaiser you know and love.
"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."
"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."
you smack his shoulder for that.
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bonus:
you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.
a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.
you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.
"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.
ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"
"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."
who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?
you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."
he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.
"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."
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anonymous-dentist · 1 month
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Or: the first week of Cellbit's life after being turned into a vampire by the man he's been dating for three weeks
For @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week Day One- Vampires
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Day Zero - Saturday
"Just stay still!"
"I am still!"
"Nooo, you're fucking wiggling."
"I'm trying to get comfy. If I'm going to die, I want to be comfortable."
"My lap isn't comfortable? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Your knees are bony."
"I'll show you bony- stay still, motherfucker!"
"Guapito- oh, shit-"
Cellbit sucks in one final, shuddery breath and goes limp, his fingers twitching- searching for Roier's.
But Roier's hand only finds his after he's dead.
Day One - Sunday
His eyes are open, but all he can see is the scent of blood in the air. He can't move, but his limbs beg to be put to use. He's so hungry.
Something settles in his hair, something cold and soft and almost comforting through the pain wracking his entire body.
"Shh, gatinho," it whispers. "I'm back."
He leans into the touch with a whine, eyes slipping shut and exposing him to The End again. It's horrible, but at least. At least it isn't nothing.
There's nothing. The End is something. The End rejected him. He is alive, and he is hungry.
Fingers card through his hair, gently massage his scalp. But it isn't his head that's hurting, it's his everything. His mouth. His teeth. His teeth-
Air brushes past his mouth. Prey.
Instinctively, he snaps at it, growling as his teeth dig into the prey.
"Puta madre-" the prey swears, but, no that isn't the prey. That's...
He whimpers as the not prey tears its hand out of his mouth.
"You're lucky you're cute," the not prey tells him. "Hold on, let me get you some actual dinner."
And then the not prey leaves. Again.
And he is alone with the nothing. Again.
Day Two - Monday
The room is too cold but the blankets are itchy and the pillow is too warm and the overhead fan is turned on and he's so cold, why is he so cold?
Shivering, he pulls his blanket over his head. But it itches, so he pulls it back off, but he's so cold-
"Hey, no, come here," the not prey says.
He snarls as he's gently pulled to the not prey's chest, but his anger dies down the second he recognizes the not prey's scent: guapito.
His guapito.
He burrows back until he can't tell where guapito ends and he begins. Then, and only then, does he start to feel warmth again.
The End was warm, so warm. But it turned him away, and now he's cold- but that's good, right? He doesn't know why it's good that The End rejected him and sent him back to the nothing, his head hurts, his teeth hurt. But. But maybe it has something to do with his guapito.
A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck. "There we go. Sleepy gatinho, eh?"
He hums in acknowledgment. But he doesn't talk, he doesn't know how. He doesn't think he's supposed to. He's too hungry to even though he'd just eaten moments or hours or centuries ago.
"Tomorrow will be better," guapito tells him, and he believes it.
Day Three - Tuesday
He keeps biting the inside of his mouth when he tries remembering how to speak to guapito. And, frankly, he's starting to get sick of it.
He pouts, but guapito just smiles and coos and leans in close and brushes its nose against his.
"You'll get used to it," guapito says. "They'll be done growing in by tomorrow."
Tomorrow is forever away, though. When The End had sent him back, it had told him that he would wake up 'tomorrow', but he was there for what felt like thousands of years. He only found his way back to the nothing when he'd heard someone talking to him.
Who...?
Wordlessly, though not wordless by choice, he bites guapito's nose. He doesn't bite hard, and he doesn't bite with his fangs, but guapito still screams and tumbles off the bed dramatically.
He smiles, fangs and all, but guapito just grumbles and reaches up and pinches his cheek hard.
And then guapito smiles, fangs and all.
It's beautiful.
He tries to say as much, but he ends up biting his tongue. Again.
Damnit.
Day Four - Wednesday
He can't stop crying, why can't he stop crying? He isn't in pain, but it all hurts so badly, but he doesn't know why, and-
"Gatinho, hey, it's fine," guapito softly says- it sounds sad, and now he feels worse because he made guapito sad and he's just a failure of a... of a... of a...
He can't remember? Why can't he remember? All he remembers is The End and then the nothing that came afterwards, the nothing he's been living in since. He blinked, and he was out of The End, and he was in somebody's arms, but who? Guapito, right? But why? How do they know each other?
He chokes on his own tears as he comes to a terrifying realization. He doesn't know who he is. He's been awake for days, but he doesn't know his own name- oh, God.
Guapito holds him closer, rocking them gently back and forth on the floor, because he had crawled off of the bed in his own misery hours ago and hasn't been able to muster the will to get up since.
The End took something from him before kicking him out. Did The End take him?
Guapito shushes him gently, far more tender than it's been since he's known him. But he doesn't know him, so how does he know that?
"You'll think this is funny later," guapito assures him. "I did. You're just emo today, it's fine. New instincts and shit, they'll figure themselves out, and then we can go back to bed. Okay?"
He buries his face in guapito's shoulder. What he would give to be in bed again...
Day Five - Thursday
There are flashes in his mind of things he can't quite remember. A garden filled with blue flowers, a swimming pool. A little boy in overalls locking him in a closet with...
Guapito trudges into the room with a fresh pitcher of blood for them to share, because he's still hungry.
"I'm making you go hunting when you're out of bed," guapito huffs.
He places the pitcher down on the bedside table and wipes the non-existent sweat off of his forehead with his headband.
He is stunning.
"Okay," he croaks out, wincing as his fangs clip his tongue. But it's worth it for the brilliant smile guapito sends him and the forehead kiss he gets.
"You are so sexy when your voice is all fucked," guapito growls, playful and not at all threatening.
He bites back a frown. "No."
"Yes. And you had better get used to being called sexy because you-" Guapito pokes him between the eyes with one finger. "-are stuck with me for forever. No take-backs."
He doesn't want a take-back. He's been thinking through the hunger pangs, and he thinks that he went to The End because of guapito. Not because guapito sent him there, but because guapito was the one to pull him home.
This is home, right? A dimly-lit bedroom with wooden walls and well-worn floors, scratchy blankets and soft pillows, soft voices downstairs. Guapito.
It doesn't ring any bells, but he thinks that, if it wasn't his home before The End, it could be his home now that he's left it.
A small smile on his face, he reaches up and cups guapito's cheeks.
"Okay," he repeats, just because he thinks guapito needs to hear it.
And guapito smiles, and it's all just... okay.
Day Six - Friday
He has a name, he thinks. Cellbit. It's what guapito calls him when he thinks he's asleep. When Cellbit is asleep.
It sounds familiar. So does the mention of a child- Richarlyson- and the mention of a woman- Jaiden- and the mention of another child- Bobby.
But what's guapito's name? He has to have one, right? One as beautiful as he is.
"You look almost normal today," guapito comments.
Cellbit doesn't feel normal. He feels hungry, but he's less hungry than he's been for the past several days. He feels cold, but he doesn't mind the cold as much as he used to. He feels confused, but he's remembering more every day. So he might be back to normal soon.
(Whatever normal is for him, anyway.)
The End had taken normal from him. He remembers it being freezing. He stayed huddled before its mighty presence shivering and begging to be heard. He wasn't dead, he wasn't. He couldn't be dead, he was talking. He couldn't be dead, he had... someone to get back to.
And then he'd heard the voice, and The End had released him.
Cellbit leans his head onto guapito's shoulder and closes his eyes.
"Te amo," he whispers. He may not remember who guapito is to him, but he knows this to be true.
Guapito stiffens beneath him, but he quickly relaxes again and slings an arm over Cellbit's shoulders.
He presses a soft kiss to Cellbit's temple and whispers, "Me, too."
Guapito had mentioned something about spending eternity with him, and that sounds just fine to Cellbit. He doesn't think he'd rather have it any other way.
Day Seven - Saturday
Cellbit wakes up not hungry for the first time since escaping from The End. He stares up at the ceiling, and his mind is filled with one word and one word only:
"Roier?" he whispers.
Next to him, guapito- Roier!- stirs. He yawns and rolls onto his side so that he's facing Cellbit. His face is red and marked with the imprints of his pillow, and his eyes are squinted shut and wet with interrupted sleep, and drool is dried to the corner of his mouth, but Cellbit is still caught breathless because he's so perfect.
"Gatinho?" Roier yawns. "What's wrong?"
He squirms until his head is using Cellbit's chest as a pillow. He wraps both of his arms around Cellbit's one like it's a stuffed animal.
His eyes slip shut again, but he doesn't fall back asleep. He's too busy tapping his fingers against the inside of Cellbit's elbow.
"I think I died," Cellbit says. His voice is quiet, contemplative. Almost reverent, because he stared The End in the face, and he was let go. Why?
"You did," Roier responds.
"But I'm here."
"You are."
"Why?"
Roier mutters something about "fledgling amnesia". Cellbit only halfway understands, but he doesn't question it. He doesn't think he wants to.
"Because I'm a vampire," Roier eventually says. "And you wanted to be one, too."
Cellbit blinks. "Huh."
"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier lightly pinches Cellbit's arm. "Go back to sleep. We need to go hunting tomorrow."
Hunting... Cellbit likes the sound of that.
But, first:
"We should get married."
This wakes Roier up fully. He sits up, lets go of Cellbit, stares at him with wide eyes.
Cellbit sits up, too. He takes Roier's hand in his, turns it over. Thinks about how good he'd look with a ring on his finger.
"I might not remember everything about you," Cellbit tells him, "but you've been with me all week even when I was..." ("...completely feral and out of control...") "...emo. And I liked you enough before to die to be with you. So... marriage only makes sense, right?"
Roier's mouth flaps like a fish's for a good couple of tense minutes before he cracks a grin and tries covering it up with furrowed eyebrows and a faked frown.
"Try again with a ring," Roier snaps with happy tears in his eyes.
He flops back down and pulls the blanket over his head.
Cellbit stares at him for just a moment before smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
Wordlessly, he snuggles back down into bed. He slips beneath the covers with Roier, pulling him to his chest and spooning him from behind. He hides his smile in the back of Roier's neck and giggles as Roier swears at him through his own laughter.
"I can't believe I'm going to be with you for forever," Roier teasingly complains.
"Me neither," Cellbit responds.
The rest of eternity until the sun should die out and then beyond. Until they both crumble to dust in each other's arms at the end of the universe.
That sounds wonderful.
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aajjks · 9 months
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Tutor. JJK
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synopsis. becoming your tutor was only the start.
warnings. söft yändērē, sïmp 101 jk, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, flüff, he’s sö shy lmao
note. just a lil something, I like to call him simp!jk. share thoughts plz.
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Jungkook could look at you forever.
You are so attractive, that smile of yours, those E/C eyes of yours make his mind feel dizzy, you make him feel so stupid, so foolish.
So foolishly in love with you.
But he knows you’re way out of his league, you’re everything he’s not, you two are no match, but yet his heart craves you, he can’t stop loving you. How can he not love you, you’re his first love, he was in love with you the first time he saw you.
“Can you stop daydreaming?” Jungkook almost curses under his breath, his friend annoys the fuck out of him sometimes, why would he even dare to interrupt him when he’s busy thinking about you?
“Don’t give me the death stare, simp.” Jungkook doesn’t stop glaring at his friend though, biting the inner cheek of his mouth, glaring daggers at him. “I mean… why don’t you just ask her out already? It’s been two years, JK.”
Jungkooks shoulders sulk at that, his friend has a point, but he simply doesn’t have the courage to ask you out.
You would reject him in a heartbeat.
“No… she’s way out of my league, man…” he barely whispers to himself. He’s so insecure, he wants you so much but he’s so scared to have you, you’re an angel, he’s not worthy of you.
“You never know Jungkook, I mean personally you’re a pretty good guy, I don’t understand your fear but you do you.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply but tries to focus on the teacher instead, as much as he wants to spend the whole period gawking at you, he can’t risk being noticed,
Especially not by you.
“Okay, so I am pretty sure that everyone’s understood the lecture, I hope there are no questions.” The old professor speaks, it doesn’t interest Jungkook.
His mind is still set on you, you never leave his mind, you have him obsessed, it scares him almost. But it feels so good though, because he has a reason to look forward to every day, his reason is you.
“Actually sir?” He blinks twice when he hears your voice, his heart immediately skips a beat. “I had a confusion regarding the concept, if you could help me understand- I am sorry yn but the class is almost over, maybe one of your peers will help you.”
Jungkook doesn’t think before he speaks up. “I-I CAN HELP YN!” His voice echoes around the class room, all of the students turn to look at the shy boy,
Including you.
You are looking straight at him, he can feel your eyes on him.
“Well it’s settled then, thank you Jungkook.” The professor picks up the papers and smiles, “class dismissed.”
Jungkook feels so uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze but as soon as the bell rings. He sighs of relief. Jungkook notices his friends gaze on him too, he doesn’t look at him, because he knows you’re still present in the room,
And he’s pretty sure you’re approaching him already. “Dude she’s coming, good luck.” His friend whispers to him, Jungkook closes his eyes, his friend leaves, even though he couldn’t care less about that typically,
He was all alone with you now.
“Hi Jungkook,”
He will explode any moment from the excitement that’s running through his body, his brown eyes shoot up at you, he stands up, his body is reacting on its own, “H-Hi yn.. wait you know my name?”
You are simply the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, you give him a small smile, it makes him want to scream, “of course! And thank you for volunteering to help me, I appreciate it.” You put your hand out for him to shake, and he almost whimpers as he feels your skin touch his,
“I-It’s all good YN… don’t worry about it.” You’re making it impossible for him to act normal, “s-so shall I… oh you’re so cute jungkook!”
Oh my God.
“W-What?” Jungkook feels insane. He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating about you calling him cute, has he gone actually insane?
“I said you’re pretty cute, Jungkook.” He still hasn’t let go of your hand, you try to break the handshake, but he doesn’t budge.
“Are you okay?” You ask him with sheer concern, he’s too lost in his thoughts to realise that he’s been holding your hand for the last five minutes.
“O-Oh yeah I am… I’m sorry!” He quickly leaves your hand and apologises, bowing in front of you like a loyal servant. “aw no it’s fine. So I was thinking maybe you could help me with the concepts either in the free period or.. somewhere else?”
His eyes widen, he couldn’t believe this,
He had a golden opportunity in his hands.
“I-I… don’t mind anywhere YN.” He scratches the back of his head but inside he’s screaming, it’s so easy for him to conceal his feelings.
Oh the things you make him do.
“Great so how about my house? I mean I’m kind of a lazy person so I’d rather not meet at a coffeehouse or something, I love being in the comfort of my home.” You adorably explain and he’s sure his eyes are heart shaped right now.
“If you don’t mind of course.” Oh just how considerate you are, Jungkook is so obsessed with you, you’re an angel.
He’s convinced.
“O-Of course YN! I’m cool, I-I’m fine!”
“Okay thank you tutor, see you at 7?”
“Of course YN!”
“So I will text you the address, see you soon.” You wave at him, he just stands watching you walk out, you have him awestruck, today is a very blessed day for him,
Also he managed to keep a few secrets from you, like how he knows where you live, Jungkook sighed of relief when you left,
This was a start of something really special for him, and you.
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rizsu · 1 year
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cherry balms gojo, nanami, geto.
sum. ex bf gojo, ceo nanami + one night stand geto. zzz not proofread sry !!
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gojo satoru.
“literally why are you sneaking around?” gojo questions. although he's basically crashing in your house, he still finds it odd that you're acting as if he hasn't seen above and beyond from you. his eyes trace your figure, he engraves every detail in his mind—almost as if he's slowly forgetting and doesn't want to.
gojo leans back onto the bed's frame, hands folded behind his head with one leg up. if you were to be honest, he looks devourable—if it's even a proper word. he's sporting a fitted black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a silver chain. a fit that'll make anyone drop; simple yet defines.
you waddle to your closet, careful to not slip on the water dripping from your body. yeah, you just finished your bath and would've changed your clothes right in your room, but someone decided to welcome himself. piling your outfit on your arm, you grab your phone from the bed and waddle back to the bathroom.
well, that was the plan but yet again gojo had other plans. one swift movement of his hand (lightly) gripping on your robe and you're pulled right back down to his level.
“do you need something!?!?” “you maybe. i dunno.”
.
.
.
oh okay! you think, not sure if you should act surprised or if you should bite his arm to set you free. either way, it's not like he'd react. after all, he's been your (ex) boyfriend for more than two-three years. he knows you.
gojo doesn't let you go—in fact, he uses the same hand to wrap it around your waist and keeps it there. surely enough simple touches between exes are fine right..? maybe it isn't. who knows and who cares? not him!
even though your break-up was mutual, it didn't fail to leave a salty taste in gojo. he's good at masking his negative feelings but sometimes, that barrier is broken and he has no proper/healthy way to deal with it. approximately two weeks after the break-up, gojo tried flings, one night stands, hook ups, and even dates but they all failed after he reveal his longest relationship being two-three years. absolutely no one wants to compete with someone who was practically his soulmate.
“SA-TO-RU!” a call of his name along with slap on the arm shakes gojo from his thoughts. apparently, he's been zoning out while staring directly at you without blinking which creeped you out. you know better than anyone that when gojo zones out, he zones out. it's like having the eyes of god spawn in front of you without warning.
gojo ruffles his hair, redirecting any out of place hair strand back to its position. sighing, he looks at you before speaking his mind, “let me kiss you.”
now it's your turn to sigh. eons of knowing gojo and you still manage to react to his shameless requests.
nanami kento.
“okay, can i change first at least??”
“no, thanks.”
“what do you mean “thanks”!?”
busy and boring. that's it. those are the only words that can describe office worker life. you agree, it's nice to work for a large corporation as their advisor but it's so boring. you can't stress enough how many times you forced your eyes to stay open. the time can be two hours into work and here you are, opening your eyes with your fingers to not succumb to the creeping slumber.
stretching your body, you let out a yawn before fixing all documents to deliver for your boss. every day you thank god that your boss isn't some old man that's impatient. your boss, nanami kento, likes punctuality but he gives a grace period of one day. anything later than a day results in extra work and payment cut.
throughout the long hallway, the clacks of your heels can be heard but you don't mind; it's actually a nice sound. makes you feel like a true professional. standing in front the door that reads ‘Nanami Kento: Official C.E.O’ in a gold plated sign, you knock twice while speaking your name, “y/n l/n here, boss.”
no more than thirty seconds later, nanami orders you to enter as he says his goodbyes to some random that you assume to be a business partner. gesturing you to come closer, nanami folds his glasses into his shirt as he spins a pen on his hand.
“i take it you're finished with the documents?” he assumes, glancing at you before his gaze returns to the stacks of paper on his desk.
marking every fifth booklet with your fingers, you neatly place them on the less crowded side of his desk, “yes. they're all signed too, boss.”
clicking his pen, nanami praises your work with a little “good job.” and signs off his last signature needed for the day. placing his pen in its holder, he reclines back into his chair with a moan of relief. the feeling of his back getting some support will never not be good.
you awkwardly stand in your position, hands clasped together behind your back as you await his next instructions. luckily for you, he never delays anything.
“sit here,” nanami taps his lap twice. he watches you hesitate before you make any movement towards him. closing his eyes, he leans his head back into his chair, stretching it to the left and right. nanami feels your weight shifted to the edge of his knee—yeah, he doesn't like that. why are you closer to his desk than you are to him?!
“i said here, y/n” “my bad..”
shifting closer to him, you get close enough to sink your head in the junction of his shoulder to neck. just close enough so that you don't need to rest your entire upper body on him.
“if i'm going to be honest, this feels so wrong.”
nanami hums at your sentence. with his head is still resting on his chair, he questions you, “how so?”
you fiddle with your fingers—you can't quite put it into words. there's something about it that feels taboo but it's not. this overthinking can possibly be the side effects of indulging in too many drama t.v. shows.
“i dunno.. it just does? not really but yeah.” “quit overthinking.”
although he's holding a neutral expression, nanami's smiling at your worry. he thinks it's actually the dumbest thing to worry about but he'll keep it to himself.
“you're here because i want you here. also, you're a talented woman.” he reassures you, squeezing your thigh with one hand in an automatic rhythm.
geto suguru.
geto enjoys the sweet dream he's having. after a long night, all he needed was a nice shower, one or two cigarettes, and sleep. twisting and turning, he relishes in the soft sheets until his hand accidently slaps something—most likely your face. his hand halts in its position as he sits up sharply at a perfect ninety degree angle. who the fuck, he wonders, looking at you who's also enjoying a good sleep even after that slap.
it takes geto about ten minutes to function his brain's thinking ability and remember what took place before he knocked out cold. oh right, he thinks. he remembers meeting you at some club, offering to take you to his and the rest is history. surprisingly, that was out of character for him. as much as he flirts and makes out like his fellow friends, he's never gone more than a make out session.
taking a big yawn, geto runs his hand up and down his torso before concluding that he should go back to sleep. slamming his head down, he reaches for your waist and pulls (drags) you close enough so that your back's directly on his torso. if he can't hug his pillow because you stole it, he'll simply hug you.
with a leg thrown over you, one hand comfortably resting on your upper body as the other's under his head, geto sinks back into slumberland with you. he's going to keep you there until he wakes up again—whatever happens before that is not his business.
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
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The Aftermath
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Summary- Near death experiences have a habit of changing relationships.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. DUBCON due to persuasion. Female reader. Arguments. Bigotry/Islamophobia. Discussions of near death experiences/trauma. Dark-ish/toxic Billy. Fingering. P in V sex.
Author's Note- Okay so I've never actually seen the show in its entirety because it's not available in my country so I'm working off the wikia and what I've seen in scenes. Please forgive any mistakes/misinformation, he looked too sad and pathetic not to write for. Full link below :)
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She doesn't bother to knock when she arrives at Billy's flat, storming inside with little regard for his privacy. He had given her a key not long after he moved in, promising that she could come over whenever she wanted, though she isn't sure this is what he had in mind at the time.
She makes her way passed the trash building up at the front door, forcing her way inside and finding him exactly where she expects to, lounging on the couch with some football game playing on the TV. He sits up when he spots her in the doorway, the smile that graces his face when he sees her slowly fading when he catches sight of her expression. She is sure it is a storm, her anger obvious, but she doesn't give him a chance to speak first.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
He looks at her blankly for a moment before a realization seems to come over him. "Lana told you then?"
"Yeah, Lana told me. What the hell were you thinking?"
He rolls his eyes, pushing forward to grab the beer bottle sitting on the coffee table and taking a swig. Her eyes catch the cuts on his knuckles, the opposite hand covered with a bloodied bandage, and watches the skin between his brows crease when the abused skin stretches. "Why does it matter to you? It's not like anyone was there anyway, was there? And you can't tell me they didn't deserve it."
"Why does it- Billy, you're not this stupid."
In all the years she's known him, she has never known him to be cruel. Quiet and insecure, surely, but never vicious. She almost hadn't believed Lana when she had called her, informing her of the one man attack he had pulled at the butcher's. It seemed so entirely out of character from the friend she had always known it nearly scared her, hearing about how he had destroyed the storefront for the crime of being owned by a Muslim family. But more than fear, it made her skin crawl, a disgust for him she had never felt toiling in her gut.
She isn't an idiot. She knows how he has been struggling lately. From his breakup with Becky to his consistent unemployment to his family ragging on him to make something of himself. Nothing has been easy for him as of late but she never would have expected him to let his rage out like this.
"If you only came here to bite my head off about it, save us both the trouble, yeah? Lana already beat you to it."
"So you don't regret it at all? Any of it?"
She wants him to say yes. And not just for the criminal record he has now contracted for it but for the guilt of screwing over innocent people. She wants him to prove that he is still her friend, to believe that he hasn't fallen down this path without so much as a blink.
He does little to assuage her fears. "What do I have to regret about it?"
Her disgust increases tenfold with that- she is grateful for it, as it manages to cover the pain of his confession- and she feels her face contort. "Why would you do it? What was the point?"
"They're the reason the world has gone to shit. It's 'cause of people like them, their whole fucked up religion. They're the animals here, not me."
She physically recoils at that, not bothering to hide her repulsion now. "Jesus Christ, Billy."
"Well I don't expect you to understand it. You're too nice, got a fucking bleeding heart for every poor bastard that walks past ya. It's 'cause of people like you that Nick and I-"
That catches her attention. "Nick? Was someone else with you when you went to the butcher?"
His face drops as if he realizes he has said something wrong but he still shakes his head as nonchalantly as he can manage. It isn't indifferent in the slightest. "Nah. Just my friend."
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Read the rest here
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wekiamo · 1 year
Text
fell harder pt 2
skeet ulrich x fem!reader
a/n: here goes part 2! this is a lil longer than my fics usually are, i hope thats not a problem! have fun reading 🤍 BTW SKEET IN THIS GIF BYEE that man is something else
pt. 3 & masterlist
warnings: swearing, fluff
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you didn’t get to sleep a lot at night. maybe it’s the anxiety you’re feeling, knowing that today you were going to meet almost everyone you were going to see very often from now on. it’s not a big deal for you, the only big deal is that in “everyone”, skeet ulrich is included.
you fear you’re gonna get nervous and say something weird, act weird making him dislike you. if that was anyone else, it would be okay. but imagine skeet ulrich disliking you? that’s what you think for almost 5 minutes after getting up from bed, while looking at yourself in the mirror.
you figure out you have to convince yourself that he’s a normal person just like you, and that there’s nothing to be scared about.
“yeah, it’s not a big deal. so what if he doesn’t like me?” you tell youself, before opening your fridge and grabbing an apple. you continue talking “i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do. that’s it!” you sound more convinced than you thought you would be, and that makes a smile grow in your face.
you jump happily around the house, until you get to the couch and throw yourself on it. you turn on the TV and you start watching some kids show, too busy biting your apple to change the channel.
it’s silly, but you find yourself not wanting to change it, so you just keep watching it until you’re done with your apple. you turn off the TV, and start feeling sleepy.
you close your eyes slowly, and then you fall asleep.
“damn, that was the best nap i’ve took in such a long time” you say, before checking what time is it.
it’s 4 pm. you remember you didn’t ask dave what time you’re supposed to show up to dinner, then you make your way to your room to get your phone.
“Hey Y/n, meet us at 7. I can pick you up if you want to” 2:20 pm
“smart guy” you think “it’d be cool if he picked me up. meeting someone for the first time in their car would be a… would be definitely a new experience”
“hey, sorry for taking too long, i took a nap” 4:07 pm
“but yes! imma send you my address rq hold on” 4:07 pm
you send him your adress.
you’re hungry.
it’s time for Topanga’s Burgers - your favorite place in the world. well, not really but thats what you call it. actually, it’s just your favorite place to eat burgers. its really near your house and that makes you love it even more. you have befriended literally all the workers there. you love the fact they’re all kind and they really like what they’re doing, you really appreciate it. it makes you remember of how amazing would it be if you had a job you’d love doing. and your last job was definitely not something you loved doing, in fact, it was the complete opposite. you quit it not too long ago and you were living with your savings and your mom’s salary. she lives with you, but she’s on vacation now. anyways, Topanga’s Burgers definitely gives you motivation to keep working hard to get where you want.
you take a bath, put on some clothes you like, do your personal hygiene, and you leave your house.
“y/n!!” a worker greets you with a big smile on her face, leaving the cashier area to come and give you a hug.
“keisha! hey, how have you been?” you hug her back tightly, happy to see her again.
keisha is a 40 years old cheerful and awesome woman. she’s probably one of the most fun friends you have. she also gives you amazing advice about literally anything you ask her about. she’s the best
“i’ve been worried about you. it’s been 3 days you’re not even coming to greet us anymore!” she says, with a genuine look of worry in her eyes. that statement of hers make it pretty obvious you come here a lot.
“yes, and i’m sorry! but i got some pretty good news”
“save it just for a minute” she says, and turns around to call the rest of the workers to hear the news you have “guys, come here! y/n’s back with good news”
everyone in the burger shop starts looking, but you don’t really care. it doesn’t embarrass you anymore.
you greet everyone coming your way as they make a circle and adjust to it, to hear the news.
“come closer” you say, and they do.
“you know when i auditioned for scream 7, right? so… i did it”
“YOU GOT THE ROLE?” keisha screamed, as some other workers gasp.
“I DID” you reply with a big smile and a happy nod, as they start jumping and screaming in excitement as you do too.
“you’re not so useless, are you?” tom joked, and everyone laughed including you.
“but seriously now, who’s going to be working with you?” tom asked in a curious tone
“there’s someone special. really special”
“hurry and give us a hint” said angelica, a funny old woman who works as a cleaning lady.
“okay, okay, you’ll have to get it right. it’s this really hot middle-aged man who you all know i always had a crush on”
“no way. skeet ulrich? he’s going to be in scream 7 too?”
“yes ma’am!”
“guys, didn’t scream end in the third movie?” linda asked.
“shut up linda, let her speak” the old woman shushed her daughter, making everyone let out a laugh
“and i’m going to meet him. today”
“wait the shootings are already starting?” tom asked you.
“no, it’s just that the cast is going to have dinner together today. and i’m going to meet SKEET ULRICH”
“tell us more. where’s it gonna be?”
“i’ll tell you all after you take my order, ‘cause im like really hungry… please?”
keisha comes running to the cashier area, to get your order. there’s another man there too in all black with a black cap too, kind of covering his face - he's probably waiting for a while now since the workers were all in a circle screaming and jumping few seconds ago.
you watch keisha greet the guy and take his order, walking to the cashier area to stand right beside him.
as she’s there taking notes of his order, he looks at you and pushes his cap up, while you turn your head to see him. you’re now able to see his face.
“oh my fucking god” you think.
“hi, i’m skeet. what a funny coincidence! we’re filming scream 7 together, right?” he greets you with a handshake and a grin, as you turn your body to him and not just your head
keisha gasps. she starts laughing at your face as she goes to prepare his order.
there’s no fucking way. skeet ulrich is right in front of you and 100% heard you saying he’s hot and you have a crush on him. your cheeks turn red.
“hello” you say stuttering a bit “i’m y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you” your hands still in his. his touch is warm and you find yourself not wanting to drop it. but you did, before it makes the situation awkward.
it’s not like you love him. it’s just that you’ve had a crush on him for the last 15 years. not a big deal… right?
you remember your own words.
i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do.
“that’s it” you finish your sentence once again, but this time not out loud.
“so…” he starts
“here’s your order, sir. sorry for the wait, again”
“it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i was called hot, you know”
he really heard you. “shit”, you think to yourself
keisha laughs. you eye her, looking done and she covers her mouth to stop laughing.
“i’ll wait for you”
“nice. he wants to sit with me. how awkward is that going to be?” you think, but you stop quickly “no. it’s not going to be awkward. once again, he’s just a normal guy who’s talking to me! nothing more than that”
“like always, please”
keisha nods, still with a smile in her face stopping herself from laughing again. she goes to the kitchen and start preparing your order.
“listen, i’m sorry. can you pretend you didn’t hear me? please?”
“right ma’am. you didn’t lie, though. i am indeed hot”
“hey!” you reply, chuckling.
“sorry, sorry. but you laughed”
you start talking to him, waiting for keisha to come with your order. she’s usually really fast with your order, but today it’s taking a little too long.
she’s definitely doing it on purpose for you to keep talking to him.
you’re really enjoying it, though. he’s a nice guy and you’re a nice girl, a perfect match. you seem to get along really well. you notice something quickly - his moves are gentle and not too fast. you’re the complete opposite, but you love it when people move calmly like this, it comforts you, you have no idea why.
keisha gives you your order as you thank her and gives her a smile.
“let’s go ma’am” he smirks at you, guiding you to a table.
“you come here often?” he asks, obviously making fun of you
“take a guess” you say and you both giggle.
“is it going to be your first time?” he asks
“hm?”
“playing a part in a movie”
oh.
“ah yes. i’ve never been part of a movie before. i’m really nervous about it to be honest. i’m not sure if i’ll be able to do my best”
“don’t worry, it’s not rocket science. all you’re going to do is pretend to be someone for a while”
“are you sure that’s all?”
“well, i told myself that exact same thing for every role i played and it went great”
“i’m talking to billy loomis right now, so i guess i’ll have to trust you.”
“yes, i’m a middle aged hot man, you should trust me”
you both laugh and he starts again “jokes aside, i’ll always be on set. if you need some advice, just call me and i’ll help you, ok?“
“thank you skeet. i really appreciate it”
you kept talking to him until you were both done eating.
somehow, this guy makes you feel comfortable around him. maybe it’s just your daddy issues, but you doubt it. this man has something in him that feels just right.
“we gotta go now. we have dinner with the cast, remember?”
“am i gonna have to see you again?” you joke as you get up and he does too, and he gasps ironically
“the middle-aged man here did not like it!”
“oh stop it” you say walking beside him to the exit and he chuckles softly.
“you want a ride home, kid?” skeet asks you, as he turns to you.
“no thanks, i live near here. you can go”
“okay then, see you later tonight!” he waves tilting his head and smiling softly as he enters his car. you wave back.
“wait”
“yes?”
“do you want me to pick you up for dinner?”
oh god. you wanted to say yes, but what about dave? wouldn’t he be upset?
“i’m sorry skeet, dave’s already going to pick me up” you say, with sort of a sad tone, trying not to upset skeet.
“it’s alright. dave, huh?” he smirks at you
“do not.” you reply quickly, raising your eyebrowns and lowering your head
“okay, okay” he laughs “see ya!”
you smile in response.
in 3 seconds, you’re going to process everything that just happened.
3,
2,
1.
“no way” you say out loud.
someone touched your shoulders behind you, making you jump with the unexpected touch, relaxing right after you see it’s angelica
“little girl you better tell me everything” she said with her hands still on your shoulders.
420 notes · View notes
heyidkyay · 5 months
Text
And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Six
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Authors Note: AHHH I am honest to god obsessed with this part, been excited for it since the idea came to mind and I also love surprises so, take that as you will... Hope you enjoy! Thank you sm for all the love on this series too, means a whole lot!!
Warnings: again lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring, heights!
Masterlist
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"Mind if I join you?"
I swivelled around on my heel to peer over my shoulder at the sound of the unexpected oncommer.
It was a surprise to find Healy there. Striding across the expanse of roof with an effortless elegance, as though he knew how much he was worth, like he didn’t care who was watching. I sort of envied that.
I opted for feigning nonchalance and simply shrugged in reply, jutting out my chin before forcing my gaze to return to the skyline.
Healy fiddled with something in my peripheral though and the ruffle of cellophane separated the sound of the city below from my smoky exhale.
"You got a lighter?"
It was a needless ask, Heally could already see that I had a cigarette lit in hand but that didn't seem to defer him. It felt as though he was actualing aiming to start up some kind of conversation, which was strange considering how standoffish he’d been during most of his visit.
I spared him another short glance as I went to dig my free hand into my back pocket, noting that his sunglasses were still wired into his curls which meant that I could actually see the way he was watching me now.
When he’d first walked over, Healy had stopped a comfortable distance away, but he closed it when I lifted the lighter up in success. The makeshift patio creaking beneath his weight.
He had his own cigarette dangling loosely from his lower lip, the butt stuck to the inside of the soft flesh as he invaded my space, indicating that he had no intention of taking the lighter from me. I couldn't quite help the way my gaze flitted down to his mouth and then up into his valourous eyes when he did, their colour darker now that his hair had fallen from behind his ear to shield a portion of his face from the sun's shining light.
I looked away almost as soon as Healy met my curious stare and swallowed sparsely before proceeding to flick the sparkwheel. It took two tries before it caught.
The warmth of the iridescent flame tickled my cheek as I held it up, and Healy cupped a hand between both our faces in an attempt to waylay the whistling wind as I moved in to light the cigarette's end.
The lighter was a tacky thing, cheap, and coloured an illuminous orange. I never usually thought much of it, tended to nick them right off of Finn's kitchen counter, or from strangers in the street whenever I needed a light. 
But being this close to Healy, I could literally smell just how expensive the man's aftershave was, how it clung to the gentle curve of his neck. It reminded me of how different we were. Healy was obviously more inclined to the finer things in life- probably even had someone hired to light the poxy things for him.
I was quick to bite back the snort that bubbled within me at the sudden picture that painted, shaking my head as I dropped the lighter down to my side. Though I still wore a small smile when my gaze trailed back over to meet his, almost involuntarily now. And this time I couldn't bring myself to look away just yet.
Healy’s lips twisted into a rueful smirk once he’d inhaled a lungful, unblinking as he observed me once more, and I had to force my body to take a step back when I noted that neither of us had yet to move.
I cleared my throat and raised my hand again, but Healy’s smirk only grew.
"Meant to be quitting, you know." I quipped like many liars before me, hoping to ebb some of the remaining tension that had adhered itself to the air around us as I sucked some life back into my fag's dying flame.
Healy humoured me. 
"How boring."
I huffed a breathy chuckle, a grey trail stuttering out with it.
"I know it's what everyone says, but for me it's true. Been trying to kick the habit ever since I started, to be honest."
I peered back over at him long enough to witness the way he directed an arched brow my way, smoke pooling from his mouth. It was second nature the way he did it, so casual, as though smoking was akin to breathing.
"Why haven't you then?"
The question caught me a little off guard. But only in the way that it was a first for him, at least from how I saw it, to pry into another's life. My life, my brain supplied unhelpfully. A big-shot singer like him to be prolonging our encounter more than necessary, surprised me even more.
Nonplussed, I found myself replying, "Life?"
He snorted pleasantly, "Cheers to that."
I watched on as he hoiked up his hand in a false toast before dropping it weightlessly to his side, dislodging the ash that perched at the end of the cigarette when his hand bounced off his hip.
Mimicking the showy gesture, I dipped my head before I chose to take another long drag, mostly to occupy the silence that enveloped us again more than anything else.
It was then that my mind began to wander. But before I could overthink this entire situation- because, let’s just be honest, I would’ve have to have been fucking barking not to have found this whole ordeal anything other than strange- my head snapped up at a scuffling sound and my eyes instantly tracked the way Healy had all but pounced his way up onto the roof’s ledge.
"You aiming to off yourself, or you simply tempting fate?" I blurted out before I could think better of it, unable to look away. He truly had my full focus now.
He grinned and my jaw ticked as Healy's snazzy boots kicked carelessly at the brickwork that lined the edge of the studio’s building, his soles walking a fine line, prancing along like the three story drop wasn't that much of a threat.
"Fate's far too busy to be fretting with the likes of me, love." He retorted, one hand buried in the jacket he adorned, the other holding his cigarette to his mouth. He paused about a foot away from me and leant forward to peer over the side, causing my poor heart to falter and just about fall out of my arse.
"The hell are you doing!" I snapped, immediately jumping forward to grab at his sleeve before he could tip any further. "You got a fucking death wish, or something?"
Healy only cackled as he rocked back into my tight grip, grinning so widely now. My breath stuttered at the very sound of it, amused but tinged with an edge of mania. And the lazy smile he shot me from over his shoulder after didn’t at all help the way my pulse was now thumping wildly through my veins, the parent in me having sent every nerve-ending into overdrive.
"Or something." He answered, a wily expression dawning.
He did jump down though and once his feet were firmly planted back on the decking, I shoved at his shoulder. "You're a right prick, you know that?"
"Awh, come on. Live a little, Squeaks!"
I shot him a lurid glare, far from amused by the mocking tone he’d taken on or the way he’d poked fun at my name.
"Honestly, what have you got to lose?" Healy went on to say, not paying my reaction any mind at all. I ignored his efforts, but couldn't stop my eyes from following after him when he recklessly returned to the edge, only this time he decidedly took a seat there. "Come on!"
He gestured for me to join him with a jerk of his head and I merely blinked. Stressing over whether or not he was being serious.
Healy’s buoyant grin was fast fading now though, but I wasn’t really too focused on that fact, all I could see as he glanced back at me was how lost he suddenly seemed behind all that bravado. It was hard to notice in truth, but I could see it there, ever so slight, in the hazing shadows casted behind his eyes.
"What, you just gonna leave me here on my lonesome?" He goaded once he'd deemed that I’d had more than enough time to respond, wiggling his brows from across the patio.
I was forced to blink away my tangent of thoughts then as I inhaled a deep breath. 
After hesitating for the briefest of seconds, gaze flitting from Healy’s slumped form to the fire escape and then back again, I was sure that I saw his shoulders visibly tense. He’d noticed my uncertainty and had immediately raised those shackles back up, preparing to be let down again.
And for some reason, I found that I didn’t want that. So catching the inside of my cheek between my molars, I finally tossed the butt of my cigarette to one side and ambled over. 
Healy smirked, all too pleased with himself as I nervously settled in beside him, leaving only a few centimetres space to separate us.
Not wanting to chance anything, I kept my hands plastered to the wall’s ledge, fingertips digging into the rough brick as I leant forward the tiniest little bit to scrutinise the time it would take my body to ultimately hit the asphalt below, if I so happened to fall. 
I knew it was unlikely, but still pressed my lips firmly together, knowing it would likely be entirely Healy’s fault if something were to actually occur. 
After a minute or so my heart calmed and I started to observe the way our legs dangled over the edge, side by side, swinging aimlessly above the narrow street way down below. The toes of Healy’s boots only just skimmed the jut of my ankle whenever his heels would hammer against the building’s hard exterior, close but never touching. I counted the beats.
There was a long few minutes of silence that passed between us sitting there, before Healy finally broke it, kicking the remnants of his fag far away and watching as it blurred from view.
"You come up here often then?"
A laugh broke free from me at that and I looked over. 
"That a line?" I teased, unable to help myself nor the smirk that had worked its way onto my lips, whilst Healy’s eyes widened involuntarily, clearly not having expected the cheek from me. I decided to leave the ribbing there though, not wanting to push my luck, and smiled softly at him, deciding to give him an honest answer. "But I don't know, really. It depends."
"On what?" 
"On whether or not I've got shit to do."
He hummed, fingers tapping at his knee. "Important shit?"
I couldn't quite stifle my laughter, "Yeah, important shit. Not all of us can live a lavish life up in Beverly Hills."
Healy pursed his lips at that, "Makes two of us then, fucking hate The Hills."
Surprised, my eyebrows shot up.
"Really?"
"Yes, really! It's a right shit show- the whole of fucking California is." Matty scoffed, almost stubbornly whilst shaking his head. I could see how much he meant his words though, even if they did somewhat confuse me.
"Least it's sunny though, right?"
Healy barked out a short laugh, turning his head towards me to meet my gaze head on. From this angle, I could see just how much brighter his eyes grew when he smiled, and wondered if he even realised. If anyone had told him.
"Least it's sunny." He mimicked, sounding all too amused.
I tore my eyes away. "What's so bad about California then, bigshot?"
The volume of Healy's snort actually surprised me but mercifully, I managed to hide the way I flinched before I turned my head back to face him. 
"You could ask me anything, anything in the world, but that's what you settle on?"
My mouth drew itself into a pout as I furrowed my brow and shrugged. A little put out. "Always wanted to visit the National Park?"
"Oo, got a proper little adventurer on our hands, have we? California! Home of Venice Beach, Hollywood, and the planet's fittest stars- but all you wanna do is have a quick peek around at a mound of mouldy trees and old mountains?"
Tutting at his jeering, I rolled my eyes and hummed, "I mean, it looks sort of sick, don't it?"
"Sure. If you're going on eighty."
"Fuck off." I chuckled and knocked into Healy’s shoulder, throwing him off balance slightly.
"Oi, don't think I won't push you off this roof!" He warned and a giant grin threatened to overwhelm my face.
"Do it. I'll be sure to take you with me." 
"That a threat?"
"It's a promise." I smirked.
"Oh, I don't much like those, Squeaks. You'll have to think of something better." Said Healy, tearing those eyes of his away upon noticing then just how close we'd gotten during the short span we'd spent taunting one another. 
I licked my lower lip and watched him for a moment. "What's wrong with a promise?"
"What isn't?" Healy’s eyes looked vacant as they stared hard at the skyscrapers that littered the view. "They’re simply made to be broken, aren't they?" He shrugged, his blank facade quickly returning, that glaze in his eyes fading. "Anyway, why would I take your word upon only hearing you promise? Promises aren't truth, they aren't law. They're simply empty."
There was a long pause before, "Christ, who hurt you?"
My eyes widened upon hearing my own stupid insincerity, always putting my foot in it, and was hasty in the way I immediately opened my ginormous gob to apologise, but Healy’s soft laughter stopped me short.
"Now that's a question, Mouse."
I couldn't really bring myself to reply after hearing the sadness that fuelled his words. Didn't know if I even could. But I couldn't stop my lips from quietly mouthing my own name either, sure that it had been the first time Matty had ever used it.
--
The studio felt much quieter now without Jamie’s amiable laughter or Healy's all-consuming presence to fill the space. I found myself simply standing in the centre of the room long after they’d departed, half way between the booth and the settee, wondering what to do next. 
I didn't have to pick Teddy up from the nursery for another half hour and the journey there would only take me five minutes or so. That meant that I was now somewhat at a standstill and those were rather rare when you had a toddler hanging about. 
It had just started lashing it down outside. I could hear the heavy raindrops as they splattered their way across the windowpanes and formed a shallow pond on the skylight a few feet above my head. 
It had only started spitting just as Matty and I had re-emerged from our little breakaway. My unfiltered mouth had been the beginning of an untimely end as I hadn't been able to sit there and stomach the silence much longer, having mentally scolded myself enough. 
So I'd talked Matty off the ledge (literally) and hummed softly to myself as we’d descended the stairs in a desperate attempt to break up the awkward tension that drenched me. Adi and Jamie had been waiting up for us by the window when we'd returned and Healy's manager had been in a hurry to whisk him away, grinning happily as he said his goodbyes, a mobile pressed to his ear whilst he coerced Healy down the stairs. He went without much bother.
"That went well, I reckon!" Came Adi's voice as she exited the kitchenette, holding another round of tea in her hands and a plate of bourbons too. 
She settled herself down onto the sofa and motioned for me to come join her, clicking her tongue whilst her many rings clattered against her ceramic mug. The same one she often favoured.
"Come on, sit down! I want to know the ins and outs of everything you two talked about up there! Twitter's been going positively mad ever since the show went live!"
I sighed but followed the order, taking up a perch on the edge of the settee beside her, enjoying the warmth that blanketed my hands upon being handed my own brew. The heat of it tingling my fingertips.
"It turned out okay then? No one’s started up a riot, or threatened to have my life, have they?"
Adi rolled her eyes good-naturedly in reply, laughing at my melodramatics. "Nah, you're all good, babe. Think a few of 'em actually liked you. Fancy that, hey?" 
She winked at me from over the rim of her mug but I merely hummed in return, knowing that Ads didn't miss the underlying scepticism that accompanied it.
"I'm serious, M! Apparently it's been a while since Matty's acted so genuine! Hang on, reckon that’s the right word for it?" She shrugged, answering her own question, and then barrelled on, "Either way, they're already petitioning for us to have him on again. Here just look, I'll show you."
I watched on as Adi tried to balance her scalding hot tea on the knob of her knee whilst she fumbled for her phone. I stilled it just in time before it could start tilting and she grinned up at me in thanks, now brandishing a bright screen. "Aha! Here you are. See there, babe? They adore you!"
With a scrunch of my nose, I leant in closer to peer down at the illuminated text, watching as a stream of tweets continued to flood Adi’s neverending feed. I placed my mug down onto the coffee table not long after and stole the phone from out of the girl's grasp.
M @/user1 15s Lovedlovedloved today's show!! #MouseOnAMic 
13 @/user2 23s The smiles?! How cute, he looked like he really enjoyed the interview!
Pol @/user3 29s Missed seeing Adi’s lovely face:(( But I honestly think this was one of the show's best releases!!!
Robber @/user4 37s AHHH what was that?? 
Bean @/user5 46s Um imma need a minute bc I don't think I've heard Matty talk that much in a while
197die @/user6 51s Why are they so adorable?? My heart!!
AM @/user7 1m Please bring Matty back!! @/petitesouris @/AdelineWells_
"Shit."
Adi cackled whilst I chucked her back her phone, surprised by what I’d read.
"Told you, babe! They seem to love the two of you together."
"Why are they spouting all that crap?"
Adi shrugged, exiting the app with a swipe of her thumb before switching the whole thing off. "Just the internet, ain’t it? Besides... they're not really wrong."
She laughed loudly at whatever expression must have crossed my face then and I huffed to myself, picking up my mug and shuffling over to settle further into the cushions.
"He's so painfully male though, Adi. I mean, you must've seen all the models he hangs about with."
Adi’s eyes lit up at that, looking as though I’d just mentioned that Greggs was currently handing out free sausage rolls on the nearest street corner, I raised a brow.
"Oh, I have, babe. Just didn't realise that you've been keeping tabs on him too!"
Helplessly I spluttered, almost spilling my tea in my rush to sit up. Ads tittered away, so obviously entertained by my reaction.
"I have not!"
Adi hummed sceptically, mug cradled close to her chest now, "Sure, hun, and the sun doesn’t shine out of my arse."
I flicked her arm, "I'm being honest with you- I just had to get a little background information on him for the interview! That's all."
With a slow nod and a shitty attempt to dampen her ever growing grin, Adi replied, "What, so you don't think he's fit then?"
My eyes widened and lips parted at her question. 
I couldn’t outright deny that Healy was nice to look at- he fit a certain esthetic, alright? But I also did not want Adi teasing me anymore than she already had. Especially after seeing what all of Matty’s fans had to say about the pair of us online. Was it too late to switch careers?
Besides, it was just a passing fancy sort of thing, and Healy obviously didn’t view me in the same light. That, and I had Teddy to worry about. If anything this was just a fleeting thing, I could admit that at the very least.
"He's-"
"Fit as fuck? Hotter than a rubber ring on a summer's day? Mysterious enough to lure just about any one in?" Adi interrupted, filling in the blanks. 
I blinked at her before snorting a laugh, my breath fanning the steam that slipped from my tea.
"I was going to say nice."
"Nice? Nice! Mouse, that boy is not 'nice'! Far from it! Broody and bloody stubborn, those I can get behind! But nice? No. Nice looking, sure- maybe if you were an eighty year old woman complimenting her grandson on his birthday. But not nice."
"That's the second time today I've been compared to an OAP." I acknowledged, frowning at what it might mean.
Adi's eyes snapped over to meet mine, earnest and impenetrable. "I'm bein’ serious here, Mouse."
I rolled my eyes.
She groaned loudly in return. "Come on, just admit it! He's a right looker."
I hung my head against the back of the settee, emitting a heavy sigh as I stared up at the ceiling. “Yeah, alright, he’s fit.”
"I knew it! You so fancy him!"
My head snapped towards her at that and I narrowed my eyes, “I didn’t say that.”
"Didn't need to." Adi beamed all too happily, pulling a knee up to her chest, eyes gleaming. "It's called reading in between the lines, babe!"
"Ads, how- you know what, forget it. I'm not even going to begin to tell you how stupid you just sounded."
Adi harrumphed and waved off my efforts to preserve some of my dignity. "So, what are you going to do about it then? Cross your heart and hope he's down to fuck you sideways?"
I truly couldn’t help the way I grimly spat my tea back into my mug whilst I started to shake with a startled laughter. Adi, the cow, had to pull what was left of my drink away just so that I could wipe at my chin, laughing all the while.
"You're such a twat, you know that?"
Adi only grinned at me from the other end of the sofa and shrugged. "You love me for it." 
I couldn't deny that, grinning right back at her. "That I do, my love. Fancy keeping me company whilst I pick up Teddy then?"
--
Another week dragged by and my days had been nothing short of chaotic, filled with stress, tears, and toddler tantrums. 
Teddy had fallen ill on the Wednesday, all snotty nosed and high temperature. I’d had to take the day off work just to pull him out of nursery early when the school had called, leaving Adi to fend for herself for a long while. The little tike had refused to eat or drink the entire time he'd spent recuperating in my bed, and I’d been forced into bargaining with him to simply get him to take his medicine. Who claimed too much tele was bad for you anyway?
Teddy's temperature spiked on Thursday night though and I had struggled to hold back sobs of my own whilst on the phone to my mam, listening to my son shriek and cry in the background as she tried to instruct me on what to do. 
But thankfully, things had finally started looking up for us on the Friday afternoon. Teddy had asked for some toast that morning and, although I had been fearful (the sight of sick having been something I’d been forced to get over this past week), the boy had managed to keep it down. And we'd spent that evening together on the sofa, swaddled in a sea of blankets, singing quietly along to The Lion King.
Saturday and Sunday had been a whirlwind. I had spent so much time cooped up in the flat with Teddy that Finn came round Saturday morning to all but shove us out the front door. Ever the angel though, he'd treated us to a greasy fry up down at the local cafe and had even taken Teddy off of my hands for a couple of hours when Adi had texted to ask if I'd be around later on to help out with Monday's show. 
Sunday was spent keeping an eye on my rowdy four year old, who had all but bounced back to the image of perfect health- as though the previous few days had been nothing but a bad dream. Humoring Adi and I whilst we’d conjured up new ideas at the studio.
Healy’s management team had emailed about mid week, sharing some statistics and thanking the show for our ‘aid’, but it had all sounded far too condescending for my liking. Then again, most emails tended too and my mood had also been depleting rapidly ever since the segment had aired. So there was that. Adi did get a few minutes spare to email something back for me though, which I appreciated. 
Jamie had also taken the time to message too, which had brought a shocked smile to my face. I’d figured that the man must have picked up my number from Adi whilst he'd been visiting, or from someone else on his team. But I’d texted back, wishing him well, not wanting to be impolite.
But the thing is, Jamie hadn’t left it there. Which had been a somewhat welcomed surprise. Throughout the week he'd taken to messaging here and there, asking about the show, my day, taking the time to fill me in on all the good and bad parts of his own. His job seemed more than fucking stressful, but I should've guessed that much, what with him having the pleasure of having to keep up with Healy all day. I'd wondered on more than one occasion how that dynamic typically played out, but never asked.
It was around four on Monday afternoon when I found myself leaving the loft, finally having caught up on most of the crap I’d missed the last week.
Adi had long since departed, having had a commitment to get to. Something to do with helping a mate find the perfect dress for her big day, which was fast approaching, and had abandoned me the first chance she'd got, leaving me to wrap and lock up all on my lonesome.
Teddy was also off with Finn after school today, as he was most afternoons when we had to film for the show. So I’d planned to pick up a takeaway to surprise the two of them with on my way over, then stick around long enough to pester my best mate before he finally grew sick of Teddy and I and sent us on our merry way.
I was just locking up, humming a soft tune that had been stuck in my head all day, when I heard a scuffle sound around the corner. I only looked up once I'd tugged on the handle hard enough to make sure all was well, but was startled to find a familiar face staring back at me.
"Shit. You proper scared me!" I breathed out heavily, a hand coming up to rest over my beating heart whilst my eyes wandered over Matty’s hunched form.
The singer was clad in the same heavy jacket he'd been wearing the last time we'd met, an oversized hoodie and jeans too, as well as a pair of dark sunnies which blended effortlessly into a black beanie that hid his hair from view. 
"What are you doing here?" I questioned and could hear the shock that lined my voice as I stepped out onto the pavement to join the singer, who had since propped himself up against the side of my building.
"Was in the area." Was all Matty gave away, but he kicked off of the wall to shove his hands into his trouser pockets when I approached.
"You were in the area and just so happened to end up here?" I asked, bemused. My eyes glanced up and down the narrow backstreet to see if anyone else was mulling about long enough to recognise ‘the singer from that one band’ before they retreated back to him.
Healy tilted his head to one side, "That alright?"
He looked far too nonchalant, as though he had a tendency to drop in at every radio station he'd wound up commandeering over the years, making me feel stupid for not having expected it.
I had to force out a little laugh, unsure on how to reply exactly. "Yeah- I mean, sure. Just, I don't know, I didn't expect to ever see you again."
Healy's mouth quirked ever so slightly to one side at that but he hid it in the way he cocked his chin towards the highstreet a way ahead. "Where you off to?"
"Um," I swallowed, pausing for a moment to tug at my jacket sleeve so that I could take a quick look at my watch. "Well, I've got about an hour before I've got to be somewhere, but nowhere right this minute."
Maybe I was being presumptuous. Bold even. But why else would he be here? 
I lifted my head back up and found Healy already watching me, and if the man had noticed the scars that marred my wrist he didn't say anything, simply nodded.
"Got time to grab a coffee then?" He suggested and I, even in my dazed surprise, somehow dipped my head in slight agreement.
"Sure." I answered, albeit a little breathlessly.
We walked together, me just a step ahead as we emerged from the sidestreet which housed the studio. I caught himself waiting for someone else to catch onto the fact that the infamous Matty Healy was walking amongst us commoners. But no one seemed to be any the wiser, Matty's all black get-up allowed him to move about the city almost inconspicuously, letting me shepherd him into a nearby bakery without any fuss at all.
"Why don't you go grab us a table and I'll order?" I found myself saying as we stepped into the shop.
Healy stared at me for a long moment before he finally nodded. Quietly asking for a simple coffee as I wandered over to join the queue.
Joanna's bakery had been around for decades now, or so I’d been told, shacked up between ever changing franchises and fast food chains. It had become a long loved favourite of mine since having moved to London, I'd found it during my time at uni and it had truly been a godsend throughout the first few weeks of having baby Teddy. Joanna's coffee had been the only thing keeping me afloat way back then.
I gave a bright grin when the woman’s greying hair came into view, eyes catching mine from behind a pair of spectacles Teddy, for some odd reason, seemed fascinated by whenever we dropped in.
"Hello, you." The ageing woman greeted me with a sweet smile. "Good to see you're doing well, and how is young Teddy?"
"He's doing fine, thank you, Joa. Just overcame a bout of flu." I informed her, hip checking the wooden counter that housed a row of cabinets. "Been a hectic couple of days."
Joanna's brows lifted and her thin lips pursed in concern as she tucked a tea-towel into her navy apron. "I can only assume so. He's doing well now though, I hope?"
I waved off her unnecessary worry with a fond smile, "Right as rain, racing around without a care in the world today. Me though? I’m still trying to get over it- not that he realises.” I chuckled, “He gave me quite the scare, if I'm being honest."
"Kids tend to do that. But Mouse, my dear, you should have called! I would have had some soup sent over for him."
With an appreciative grin, I thanked her, knowing that there was no falseness in her offer, "I'll remember that for next time, I'm sure Teds would've loved it."
Joanna returned my sentiment with a gentle nod before the sound of the shop's bell rang over the door, announcing another customer. "Well then, what can I get for you, dove?"
I exhaled, glancing up towards the blackboarded menu mostly out of habit, "One regular coffee, please-"
"Isn't it a bit late in the day for coffee? You'll be up all night." Joanna scolded lightly, cutting me off, I couldn't help the soft chuckle I gave. Forever humoured by the women in my life constantly telling me what to do.
"Not for me, Joa, don't you worry." I hurried to assure her before prattling off the rest of my order without another interruption once Joanna had hummed in a quiet understanding. 
"Takeaway?" She prompted, but I shook my head, gesturing over my shoulder towards the many tables behind.
"We'll sit in, if that's okay."
Joanna blinked in surprise, obviously not having seen me enter with anybody. "I didn't realise Adeline had come in, I usually hear her."
I gave a peel of laughter at that but was quick to press my lips together. "No, no. No Adi today, I'm with a new friend."
The older woman smiled at me as she pushed her glasses further up her nose, "I see."
My head tilted in confusion at odd her tone but left it be. "Could I also get some of that famous chocolate cake of yours while I'm at it? Two slices, please."
"Of course, I'll have it sent right over."
I grinned and waited until I'd paid and Joanna had turned her back on me before shoving my change into the tip jar. 
It was an ongoing thing between us, the first time I'd tried to leave anything behind she'd sent me on my way with an entire tray of carrot cake. I had been more than grateful for the unexpected gift but it didn't take me long before I realised what the older woman had been up to. So I'd taken to sneaking my tips into the jar whenever she wasn't looking. Joanna though, it seemed, had eyes in the back of her head, so she chose to repay this act with a multitude of free treats, often gifted through Teddy so that I was unable to decline.
Picking up the two mugs Joanna set down on the counter, I was then promptly shooed away. So, shaking my head and chuckling softly, I turned without another word said and bypassed a crowd of customers that had since entered the bakery, in search of Matty. 
I found him seated at a booth in the very far back, having shucked off his jacket and glasses now that he had his back turned towards the rest of the room. Though he’d kept the beanie, I noted.
Steeling the nerves I felt, I settled the drinks down on the table and smiled apologetically when I saw that Matty had startled at the sound.
"One plain black coffee. Didn't know whether you wanted any sugar or not, so I stashed some sachets away just in case." I laughed before upending a supply of sugar packets from my pocket onto the table. 
He simply laughed as he reached out to take two. "Cheers."
I dipped my head and worked on pouring a few splashes of milk into my own brew. I was just stirring when someone approached, almost instantly I found myself grinning at the sight.
"Mouse! My, it's been a while, what ever did we do to deserve such a pleasure?" Cassie greeted me with a delighted smile, settling two small plates onto the table before rounding it to pull me into a hug.
Laughing softly, I wrapped an arm around her neck and enjoyed the way she squeezed me tight, a fixture that accompanied every one of her hugs, before we parted. "Only been a week since you last saw me, Cas. Don't act as though you've missed me."
Cassie gifted me with a wink and beaming grin before she pivoted and turned to catch a glance at my tagalong.
I watched as her eyes widened briefly, obviously not having expected this particular visitor to be staring back at her, but she was professional enough to conceal her shock.
"Well, this is a first." Cassie announced, still smiling away whilst she looked between the two of us sat at the table. "Can't remember the last time you brought us a new visitor, Mouse. You must be special- I'm Cassie, by the way."
Healy's eyes darted between the hand the waitress had extended out and myself. I tried for an encouraging smile but wasn't exactly sure if I’d managed to pull it off or not. 
Cassie, as lovely as she was, was definitely a shock to an introvert’s system. I’d learnt that lesson all too quickly. But Healy had handled Adi with ease and she was levels above Cassie, the bright eyed woman standing before us now almost seemed shy in comparison, in truth.
"Matty." He forced out as he took Cas’s hand in his own, "Great to meet you."
He cleared his throat when his palm returned to cradling the inside of his cup and Cassie smiled sweetly at him.
"Good to meet you too, Matty. I hope you enjoy the cake, it's a favourite of M's." She chuckled, nudging the plate closest towards me. "I hear it's all she ever raves about."
I grinned impishly as I picked up my spoon and bit down on a mouthful of chocolate delight. "And it's all I ever will rave about. Nothing compares to Joa’s gâteau."
Cassie rolled her eyes at me but tittered, "I know, I know, we've heard it all before! I'll leave you both to it then, the life of a waitress waits for no one. Hope you enjoy the food though- and again, it was nice to meet you Matty, don't be a stranger."
With that she waltzed off, but not without throwing a gleeful grin over her shoulder that only I was meant to see. 
I wrinkled my mouth to keep from reacting outwardly before deciding to focus back on my dessert. 
"Sorry about her." I felt the need to murmur, glancing across the table.
Healy shook his head, smiling slightly. "Don't, she seemed nice."
I couldn't help my short laugh, recalling an earlier conversation had with Adi. "Oh she's nice, all right."
Healy didn't comment on my strange reaction, only arched a questioning brow and pulled his cake in closer.
"You know, you pronounced that in perfect French."
"Pronounced what?" I quizzed, already scooping up another spoonful.
"Gâteau." Healy informed, botching the imitation, fingertips poised over the rim of his plate.
"Yeah, and?"
He shook his head again, "Just caught me off guard is all. You speak it then, fluently?"
Tongue in my cheek, I nodded. "Mam's from a tiny village in Alsace."
"Wow. So how'd you end up with that accent then?"
I breathed out an airy laugh, "What's that meant to mean, Manc? Is it too crass for the likes of your wellbred ears?"
Healy's eyes, honest to God, bulged as he fought not to trip over his own tongue in an attempt to mend his minced words. 
"No, no, I just meant-"
"I know what you meant. Don't worry." I chuckled, taking pity seeing as I’d already shot back. "I’m only having you on. She met my dad there when he was visiting, but the two of them moved when they married."
"Oh. That's good, I ‘spose. She loved him enough to follow him home."
I hollowed my cheeks and focused my stare on my chocolate smeared spoon. 
"Wouldn't put it quite like that, but yeah she loved him. Even after he fucked off."
With a cluck of my tongue, I pushed the cake away and focused instead on my drink.
"I'm sorry."
Frowning for a split second, I forced out a breath and the emotions that had roused back down, then put on a brave face. Determined not to think about it any longer than I had to.
"No, don’t be. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Just, hard to talk about is all." I scratched at the grain etched into the wooden table.
"Nah, I get that." Healy assured with a shrug, "Don't have to apologise for it though, you have a right to your emotions."
For some reason, that reply surprised me and I had to fight back the urge to say whatever was on the tip of my tongue. I merely nodded instead and went back to picking at the cake.
"Fuck. That's good."
My head snapped up at the audible moan that Healy emitted and found the man pulling a chocolate coated silver spoon from his lips.
"What the fuck do they put in this?" He questioned me, eyes wide as he heaped another helping into his mouth.
"No idea." I laughed, watching closely now.
"Whatever it is, it's fucking good."
And with that, the tension was broken. Healy practically inhaled his serving of cake whilst I portioned mine, smiling around every mouthful. We made small talk as we sipped our drinks quietly, ignoring everyone else bustling about the bakery. 
It wasn't long before I finally found the balls to ask the question I'd been meaning to ask ever since Matty had shown up outside the studio though.
"So, can I ask why you decided to pay me a visit now? Or, is it all top secret? Like hush hush."
His lips twisted before he replied, "Don't have an actual answer for you. Had a shitty day and ended up storming off, didn't even realise I'd wandered so far from the recording studio until I caught sight of one of the backroads we'd taken to get to your loft the other day.” He shrugged, finger toying with the near empty cup. “Was faced with the choice of finding the nearest pub and getting pissed, or seeing if you were in. It was a toss up."
"And I won?" I found myself asking, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
"Would seem so."
"Happy I could help, then. The former wouldn't have done you much good."
Healy’s eyes met mine then and his gaze flickered across the length of my face. 
I couldn't really place the expression he wore and almost had a small fit when I wondered over whether or not he was looking at my scars, but found that I didn't care much. Which was odd and had me feeling self conscious all over again.
"No, I don't suppose it would've."
It took a second for me to connect the dots, to remember what I’d even said, but when I did I smiled.
Not long after polishing off our drinks, I suggested we take a walk to burn off the cake we’d piled on. But in reality, I had just realised that without the big jacket and sunglasses it was hard to miss the marvel that was Matty Healy sitting in an old Islington bakery.
Matty had been all for the idea and so together we’d exited the bakery, me calling out my goodbyes to Joanna and Cassie when I passed. The older woman’s gaze lingered on Matty’s retreating form but she bid us nothing but a soft nod with her quiet farewell.
We wasted what was left of the hour I had wandering down backroads, just taking in the city and talking between ourselves. I picked up on where Matty had been raised, in a large house in a town just south of Manchester. He hadn’t lingered too long on the topic of his family, either reasoning that I already knew about it or preferring not to, but I was more than happy to tell Matty about my mum. Recalling stories of my youth, of Christmases spent in our tiny cottage, and summers down by the creek. 
It was to my own wasted effort, not trying to focus too many of my questions on Matty’s career, because a lot of what surrounded him came from or was to do with being in the limelight. From his friends and social circle, to his everyday life. Matty’s hobby had and always would be music, that much was incredibly clear to me, only he’d just been lucky enough to make a career out of it.
Before long, I realised that our time was finally up and I was left observing the way Matty toed the edge of the curb just outside of the busy train station.
Surprisingly, Matty had wanted to walk me all the way there, just to make sure that I could arrive and board the train with all my limbs still intact. And, to his credit, he’d done exactly that, even with all of my amused reassurance that I’d be fine and did it daily.
But in truth, it was just me being overly concerned about someone recognising who Matty really was and starting a crazed frenzy. In my head all I could see was him disappearing into an ocean of teenage girls that suddenly swarmed him, calling out for help. 
I would be well and truly fucked if something were to happen to Matty whilst he was under my watch.
"You know," I began, staring up at the dark haired man before me. Noticing then that Matty, although older, looked an awful lot younger in that very moment. "I am glad you picked me."
He stared back at me, dark shades tucked into the lining of his jacket now. “That so?”
My cheeks bunched as I tried to dim my smile.
"Yeah," I confirmed with a soft chuckle, "Strange as it was at first, I surprisingly enjoyed myself."
"Surprisingly? I'm glad." Matty smiled, a small thing that wrinkled the corners of his eyes as he tugged at his ear. "I did too."
I returned the gesture, chest tightening.
The pavement rumbled beneath our feet then, meaning yet another train had pulled into the station beneath us and the Underground didn't wait around for anyone. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’d best be on the next one in hopes of making it to Finn's at a decent hour but I was unable to leave Matty just yet. 
"You gonna be okay getting home?" I wondered, gaze skirting over the many heads that crowded the street as a dozen other people filed out of the station doors. "I mean, have you got money for a cab or something? Someone to call?"
I flushed when Matty laughed at my unnecessary concern, suddenly embarrassed by the thought of sounding like my mother. I bit back the urge to outwardly cringe.
"I'll be alright, babe. I'll have someone pick me up. Thanks though."
I dipped my head in understanding and then shoved my cold hands deeper into the pockets of my coat, rocking back and forth slightly. "So I'll be seeing you then?"
"Would you want to?"
I blinked, surprised by the question. Or maybe by the way Matty had phrased it.
“What d’you mean? What, did you just figure I'd spend an hour with you, dash off, and then never speak to you again? If it's alright, I actually wouldn't mind keeping in contact. It's not like Jamie doesn't already talk my ear off everyday, so what's adding you into the mix gonna do?"
“Hang on. Jamie? As in my Jamie? Jamie, Jamie? Manager Jamie, he actually messages you?” Matty immediately quizzed and at my mirthful nod, he shook his head in disbelief. “The dickhead!”
"He never mentioned it?" I thought to ask, unable to stifle my growing laughter.
"No he fucking didn't!" Matty replied with his tongue pressed against his top teeth. But his mouth was still curled upwards as he continued to shake his head, and so I took his reaction with a pinch of salt.
"Well, sorry to have been the one to break it to you then."
Matty snorted and lifted his eyes, hazy brown holding my stare. “Nah, it’s fine. Honestly just fucked off he got your number before I even had the chance to ask."
My eyebrows shot upwards, unsure on how to take that. "Um, well. I mean you could still ask?"
The minuscule smile Matty had been wearing switched into a full blown smirk at my stuttered words and I saw the challenge in his stare when he stealthily stepped closer.
"Well then, Squeaks. Would you do me the honour of giving me your number, or you gonna have me beg in front of all these people?"
I huffed a breathy laugh as I pulled my mobile out, handing it over to him without a second thought.
The way his face lit up caught me off balance and I could only watch on whilst Matty rushed to type an assortment of numbers into the device.
“What are you doing?” I suddenly asked, ginning when Matty angled the phone out in front of him.
He paused to glance over, shooting me a mischievous grin, one that had my stomach flipping at the very sight- and shit, if that wasn't a bad sign. But I could only focus on Matty now, on the way his grin changed his entire face, the haughty arrogance he had once carried fading alongside the sharp, sunken lines of his profile. It brought a pretty colour to his cheeks and brightened the shadows that stormed his eyes. 
It was hard to look away.
“Need a photo, don’t I?” Matty retorted easily, “How else you gonna know it’s me phoning?”
I was honestly somewhat startled by the sudden difference I saw in Matty then, in the confidence he now held, the very same that appeared in the videos I’d seen of him up on stage. In the good natured teasing and wit he shot out that had me struggling to form a valid response.
“Messaged myself too,” Matty explained, pulling me from my observation. “So all we need now, is a photo of you.”
Sure enough, when I pulled my full focus back to Matty, or on what he was now saying rather, I found him there holding his own phone up towards me.
"Come on, give us a smile then, mardarse." Matty mocked and I scoffed in return, the corners of my mouth twitching at the sound of his accent becoming more prominent. 
“God, you’re a right prat.” I rebuked, but it was softened by the mad grin I wore as I knuckled Matty’s elbow. “Fine, go on then, but make sure you get my good side, Healy!”
"But every side is your good side!"
I simply rolled my eyes at the exaggeration then leant in as near as I could to the camera so that it could get a close up of the face I made. Hands still tucked into my pockets and eyes now staring directly into the lens, I pooled my tongue out like a panting dog as I tilted my head to the side.
Matty’s bark of laughter echoed out across the highstreet, loud enough that it had a few heads turning, but no one paid much mind to a man who now had his face buried in his phone, gazing down at the picture he had just snapped.
"Good enough?" I asked, rubbing at my nose and glancing about as the self doubt began to seep in now that the fun was over.
Matty raised his head, and I reckoned that my pulse must have stuttered when I caught a glimpse of his wide eyes and bright smile. 
"Perfect."
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dreamcubed · 2 months
Text
false god | blaise zabini x reader
song; false god [taylor swift] pairing; blaise zabini x pure-blood!slytherin!fem!reader genre; arranged marriage, angst, hurt comfort, fluff, sort-of-e2l word count; 4,7k timeline; deathly hallows warnings; swearing, references to sex/hook-ups, references to battle injuries, questionable views on muggle-borns summary; you had been betrothed to blaise zabini practically your whole life, and while you moved in the same friend group, he had always avoided you. you tried to understand, you really did, but were you really so undesirable?
happy belated valentine's day!!
masterlist
"they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith."
——————————————
The ring of plated white gold and emerald jewels had sat comfortably on your left ring finger ever since you had been big enough to wear it. It was worth a fortune, as your parents frequently reminded you, so it would be disrespectful to the Zabini family to not wear it with pride. You obeyed, even though Blaise - your affianced - had not worn his (more masculine) twin ring for as long as you had known him.
Sometimes you would catch the pitying looks of your mutual friends whenever the sun shone just right on the piece of jewellery, catching everyone's attention. They all knew that Blaise avoided you, never spoke to you, but it was an unspoken matter. You did your best to never show your hurt on your face, and be a strong and positive woman, like your parents had raised you to be.
You just wanted to make them proud.
It's not that you were in love with Blaise, not by any means. You would have to have actually spoken and bonded with the man to reach that stage. Regardless, rejection hurt, especially when you had no part in the arrangement of your marriage either. You were in the same position as he was, yet he acted as if you were at fault for the situation he found himself in.
You weren't a bad person, and you were at least decently attractive - was it really so bad to be betrothed to you? Why couldn't he just make the best of a bad situation and try to get to know you?
***
The Hogwarts Express had never been colder, even the warm red seats looked sallow and grey, reflecting the sullen looks on everyone's faces. You let out a sigh, pulling your thick jacket tighter around you and sinking into the cushions. Pansy was sat next to you, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the water droplets cascading down the window. You hadn't said a word to each other apart from a greeting.
In fact, everyone on the train seemed to be sitting in silence.
Slytherin was the only house with almost full attendance from its students, as even the families who didn't support the death eaters felt confident in the safety of their children thanks to their blood status. The same couldn't not be said for the other houses, which had lost a good chunk of their students due to parental fears. Especially the muggle-borns - every single muggle-born you knew in your year had not shown up to catch the train.
It wasn't a mystery as to why: showing up to the school that was now overseen by Voldemort as a muggle-born was a death wish.
Despite its pure-blood status, your family didn't support Voldemort. That's not to say that they didn't have prejudices against muggle-borns, or that they would let you marry one, but they certainly didn't wish death upon them and would likely be okay with you befriending them. Just as long as you kept your bloodline pure.
The L/N family had remained a neutral party during the First Wizarding War, and were doing the same now during the second.
"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked, not even looking at you.
"I think I saw him at the platform at one point."
She hummed, and the silence fell again.
You began biting your nails.
***
The reign of Severus Snape as headmaster of Hogwarts had officially begun, casting an even more intense shadow over the school. As a Slytherin, this was actually quite good news, but you weren't so selfish that you could disregard the wellbeing of the other houses. Plus, the subject changes like Defence Against the Dark Arts becoming simply- the Dark Arts- were quite jarring.
"Can someone pass me the roast potatoes?" the emotionless voice of your fiancé rang out, signifying that he was talking to you. Normally, when talking to your other friends, he would smile, say please, even laugh. But when he was talking to you, he would do so indirectly and without emotion.
Sure enough, you were the person closest enough to the roast potatoes, but you decided to hold back in fulfilling his request, instead locking eyes with him. "Say please."
His eyes bored into yours for a few moments, before he scoffed and said, "Please."
"Was that so hard?" you mumbled, passing over the potatoes. Your friends had gone silent during the exchange, some of them sending pitiful glances your way. You were sick of being treated this way, both by Blaise and your friends, even if your friends did have good intentions.
You resumed your meal, aiming to at the very least enjoy the food of your last ever welcome feast at Hogwarts.
***
All you knew about Blaise was what your parents and friends had told you.
He was a pure-blood, and the son of a beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times under suspicious circumstances and become richer every time. As far as you could tell, it was highly likely that one of these dead husbands was Blaise's father. Admittedly, it made you nervous to marry into such a family, so perhaps it was a good thing that Blaise was so unwilling.
But your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about, as Ms. Zabini only ever married bad men, and used it as a means to eradicate them.
"A noble cause."
Still, you had the rights to be nervous.
"Back to school party tonight," Millicent bounced up to you and announced, "Just us Slytherins."
"A party?" you had forgotten that such an event existed, given the misery of the world.
"I mean, yeah, we all need a pick-me-up," she shrugged, "It'll be in the common room. Bring firewhiskey."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but ultimately decided that drunkenness was just what the doctor ordered.
***
In your defence, you had started off slow with the drinks, mixing with lemonade and gradually sipping over a long period of time. However, once that system had (slowly but surely) gotten you drunk, all bets were off.
"Shots!" someone had shouted, and next thing you knew you were downing your sixth shot, after however many mixed drinks you had.
You stumbled away from the dancers to where some of your friends sat chatting, having the sudden feeling that you weren't too far away from passing out.
"Pansy..." you slurred, flopping on to the sofa next to her.
"Salazar, Y/N, how much have you drunk?"
Ignoring her question, you mumbled, "I feel amazing."
"A little self-control next time, yeah?"
You waved her off, no longer feeling like you were about to pass out so stumbling to your feet. You looked around the room with your eyes squinted, deciding that another drink was an excellent idea.
As you were on your way over - your friends calling after you - your vision became blurrier, until you bumped into a hard chest.
"What the fuck?" you cursed, narrowing your eyes and looking up at the person who inconvenienced you.
"Zabini," you muttered.
"Should you be getting another drink?" he asked.
You blanked him, "Does it kill you to be nice to me?"
He said nothing, biting on his inner cheek.
That was when the feeling of passing out returned, only this time in tenfold, making you drop forward. Your eyelids were heavy, you had to close them, and your body was heavy too, too much effort to remain stood up...
The only things you remember seeing after that were flashes of the stairs down to the dormitories - but you weren't walking, so how was that possible? And then throwing up in a toilet bowl, with your hair for some reason out of the way.
And then cushions, and quilt. But not yours: they smelled gorgeous, so you nuzzled your head into the scent and sighed dreamily.
***
When your eyes slowly peeled themselves open the next morning, your head was pounding and you were quite disoriented. Initially, you seemed to be tucked up in your own bed, but upon closer inspection you realised that the forest green decor was not in the usual place of the Slytherin seventh year girls' dormitories. In fact, this was a room that you had never seen before.
"You're up."
Your eyes shot towards the entrance to the connected bathroom, and every limb in your body froze as you laid eyes upon Blaise Zabini, already showered and dressed even though it was a Saturday.
"What- I-" you stuttered, sitting up in bed. You were relieved to see that you were still in the party clothes from the night before: you weren't opposed to a hook-up, but you would've liked to remember it.
"Relax," he sighed, "You blacked out last night. Carried you down here because I can't go down the girls' stairs."
You nodded slowly, trying to piece together the events, "Right..."
He said nothing, moving over to the dresser to spray a fragrance on his wrists. He truly was your typical classy rich boy. You took this opportunity to look around at the other beds in the room, seeing that the curtains were drawn around one in particular.
"Your beloved Pansy is in there."
Salazar, had she and Draco had sex while you were sleeping in the same room?
"At the very least they put a sound-proofing charm on," Blaise confirmed that thought, and you couldn't help but remark that this was the most he had ever spoken to you.
"Where did you sleep?" you had to ask.
This time, Blaise blanked you, his dark oak eyes void of emotion.
"Next to you," he eventually said, making your breath hitch. "Like we're not engaged, L/N," he scoffed, making you scowl.
"Since when have you acted like it?"
He didn't reply, and you decided that if you let it escalate to an argument, you might wake up the others. So, you forced yourself out of bed, picking up your shoes and leaving without another word.
Walk of shame, here you come.
***
Typically, if one of the girls in your dorm stumbled in the morning after a party in their clothes from the night before, there would be immediate questions of what happened and with who. But, when you entered your dorm, you were met with silence. Partially because half of the girls were still asleep, but mainly because the girls who were awake avoided looking at you.
Daphne was the only one forward enough to say something. "I saw Blaise carry you down."
To be fair, that would explain the lack of questions about hook-ups. They hadn't suspected that the two of you had sex. You simply hummed in response, just wanting to strip yourself of your clothes and makeup and crawl under your own duvet.
But Daphne still wasn't forward enough to ask if that meant your engagement had become a less cold one, as that would be entering the territory of the unspoken agreement to never mention the elephant in the room of Blaise's unwarranted disdain for you.
So, you were able to settle into a new slumber unhindered.
***
The party had been a pleasant but unfortunately temporary distraction from the miserable atmosphere that was Hogwarts. Learning the dark arts made you feel dirty, unclean - like you were announcing to the whole world that you were a death eater. You knew you weren't, and that you would never receive the Dark Mark, but you couldn't help but feel like a bad person.
You knew, however, that being a Slytherin meant the other houses looked at you with disdain, and also that many of your friends weren't entirely opposed to the Dark Lord's cause. It was something that made you sick to your stomach, yet you refused to voice these thoughts to anyone.
Not even Christmas could cheer you up, when before the colourfully decorated castle walls had filled you with a joy like no other. It didn't even feel like Christmas, it was as if all the saturation in the world had been lost, leaving behind a cold, dull grey hue. You had never been so sure of the fact that you would go home for Christmas than you were that year. At least your home wasn't shadowed by the rule of Voldemort, even if it was a tad cold and empty.
"I'll see you in the new year, yeah?" Daphne said to you, pulling you into a hug, "Have a good Christmas."
"You too," you returned the embrace, "And happy new year."
She smiled at you, and that was when you caught sight of Blaise in the corner of your eye. You hadn't spoken since the events of the Slytherin party, primarily because you had avoided him. But, he was walking towards you.
"Merry Christmas," he said monotonously, and Daphne took that as her cue to disappear.
"Merry Christmas," you said curtly back, picking up your trunk as you prepared to get off the train.
"Our families are having dinner together over the holiday."
You hesitated in your movements upon hearing that, but decided against replying, instead leaving him stood there with an expressionless face.
***
It wasn't that your parents didn't love you or care for you by any means, you knew that if you refused to marry Blaise Zabini they wouldn't disown you. But, they were raised with certain values and customs, and you had been raised into them as well. You wanted to make them proud - you just wished that the husband they had picked for you was a more willing participant in the arrangement.
So, when Blaise Zabini and his recently widowed (for the millionth time) mother arrived on your doorstep, the smile on your face wasn't entirely false. There were some truth to your emotions, despite the current state of the world.
"As you know, Blaise and Y/N are in their final year of Hogwarts," Ms Zabini spoke proudly once you were all sat around your dining table, "I believe it's time we start planning the wedding."
"I couldn't agree more," your mother replied, "It should be an elegant affair."
"That goes without saying."
You chewed on your lip.
"Y/N, what colour theme would you like?" your mother asked.
Your breath hitched, as you tried to scrape together a daydream of your dream wedding.
"Maybe pastel green?" you suggested timidly, "Since we're both Slytherins."
Ms Zabini nodded her head approvingly, "Is that agreeable to you, Blaise?"
The man shrugged, "Whatever Y/N wants."
"That makes things easy," the widow said, "It shall be a wonderful event."
***
After dinner, your collective parents had left you and Blaise to your own devices, suggesting that you show him your room. Part of you was surprised they were allowing a boy into your bedroom with no supervision, but you supposed some formalities were wavered due to your engagement to be married.
Blaise snorted when he entered your room: covered in moving posters and animated Lego sets, your four poster bed being pink and frilly with enchanted butterfly decor all around the wood.
"It's a bit mismatched," he said simply.
"It's home."
He raised an eyebrow at that, and silence consumed the both of you. The tension that hung in the air was thick, making you feel like you would go insane if you didn't say something.
"I'm not that bad, you know."
Blaise turned to face you from where he was sat at your desk, meanwhile you had perched on the end of your bed.
"I get that being tied to someone not of your choosing is a bit suffocating - believe me, I know - but you could make it easier for yourself by actually trying to get to know me."
"I do know you."
You rolled your eyes, "You know what I mean, Blaise," his first name was a foreign taste on your tongue, "You could have a worse wife than me."
He appeared to ponder your words for a while, stewing in the dampening tension of the atmosphere meanwhile you anxiously awaited his response. It was as if every action he took was intentional in making your nerves spike.
"The truth is, Y/N, I resent you."
You sat, stunned.
"My freedom to choose has been taken away from me."
Your blood boiled, making you stand up, "And I'm to blame for that? I'm in the same situation as you are, you knobhead."
He said nothing.
"I wasn't the one who made the decision. Stop acting like you're the only one here who's having a hard time."
Blaise went to open his mouth, but you carried on.
"Not to mention, there are people out there dying in the war right now," you vaguely gestured towards the window, "You should count your lucky stars that the biggest problem in your life is having to marry me!"
You scoffed, watching as he stared wide-eyed at you. After you realised he had nothing to say, you left the room to head down to the kitchens. Salazar, you needed a cup of hot chocolate after that whole ordeal.
***
The dark grey clouds cast a grim shadow over the once buzzing atmosphere of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they only seemed to get gloomier by the day. It was all you could do to stand on the sheltered bridge as you watched rain pour down, even though it was meant to be Spring. The mood of the wizarding world had always had a strange effect on the weather.
Your gloveless fingers were beginning to grow numb in the cold, but you didn't move, nor make any attempt to warm them up. You just wish that you could say that your low mood was for something as selfless as the current danger muggle-borns were in. But, no, you were egotistically thinking about your own qualms - i.e. your upcoming wedding with a man who hardly looked your way.
Ever since the argument at Christmas, he had gone back to disregarding your existence, apart from the few occasions you would catch him staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Aside from that, both your mother and his were frequently owling you about decisions for the wedding, which was making the whole ordeal seem a lot more real than it did before.
"L/N," the last voice that you expected to hear called out from beside you.
Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, as if you were paralysed.
"You'll freeze to death out here," he spoke again, this time closer to you, "Everyone's wondering where you are."
Slowly, you turned your head to look at Blaise Zabini, your sallow eyes boring into his.
"They're looking everywhere for you."
"Tell them I'm fine," you eventually spoke.
"I don't think you are, though," he sighed, "You look like you're one minute away from hypothermia."
You shrugged, "Nothing magic medicine can't fix."
Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand, "Fuck, you're like ice."
That was when he started dragging you back to the castle, and you didn't have the energy to resist at all.
"What are you doing out here, anyway?"
You scoffed, "Like you couldn't guess."
He didn't reply to that statement, instead saying, "We're getting you warmed up."
He sat you in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, wrapping a forest green blanket around you and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand. Your friends gathered around you, asking questions about where you had been and if you were okay, but you replied to none of them. Eventually, Blaise urged them all to give you space, letting out a sigh in the process.
Your heart twisted, and you attempted to suppress the pain by sipping on the drink.
It burnt your tongue.
"Careful," Blaise murmured, sitting on the sofa behind you.
You didn't even have the energy to scowl.
"We have our NEWTs soon, you have to take care of yourself."
That wasn't the only thing you had soon.
"You don't have to pretend like you care," you eventually forced out between chattering teeth.
You paused - waiting for him to say something. Anything. Part of you was praying to the gods above that he would say he wasn't pretending, that he did truly care. Instead, his silence was deafening, and your heart twisted and turned all that more. Why couldn't you just hate him?
Who would have thought it would be such a curse to have feelings for your fiancé?
***
Dust swarmed your senses, wrenching at your lungs and causing you to cough horrifically like you were a seasoned chainsmoker; you could barely see a metre ahead of you, and it was all you could do to shield your eyes with your arm as you progressed forwards. Through the crumbles and cracks, you could hear yells of Latin, thrown aggressively and with raw passion that had your blood spiking.
As far as you could tell, you were still in the dungeons - but you needed to get out of them, as they appeared on the verge of collapsing. You hadn't particularly engaged in any duels yourself, both because you were a coward, and because you lacked duelling skills. However, you had aided some students against the death eaters here and there on your progression through the castle.
You couldn't take a completely neutral stance like your parents.
You coughed harder, spluttering as your feet found stairs and began to climb up them - stumbling, but not falling.
"Help," a strained voice called out, making you assess the situation around you as best you could. As you inched further towards the left, you could make out the figure of someone stuck under rubble halfway up the staircase. You moved even closer.
"Blaise?" you croaked out.
A groan.
"Fuck," you mumbled, quickly muttering a spell to lift the rubble off of him. You saw the blood staining his clothes and gasped.
"It snapped my wand," he said, wincing as he tried to move.
You did your best to help him up, letting him rest his weight on your shoulders as you continued to push up the stairs.
"The dungeons are about to collapse," you said, carefully navigating your way around the corner once you finished the stairs.
"The whole-" he groaned, "-castle is."
You grimaced, "You need a healer."
But getting to the makeshift hospital ward without getting caught up in a duel would be quite a challenge. Then, it suddenly hit you.
"Which side are you on?" you quickly asked.
He scoffed, "Which side do you think? I'm still here." He then hunched over with an even louder groan than before, you swiftly moved to support his weight more.
Most Slytherin students who were either neutral or on the side of the death eaters had abandoned Hogwarts instead of staying to fight. You were a coward, but you would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had left. Instead, you found yourself stuck in the dungeons, some way, somehow.
"You stayed to fight," you murmured.
He went to say something, but another sharp pain coursed through him.
"Fuck," you cursed.
***
By some miracle, you reached the hospital ward with minimal further damage, and managed to get Blaise seen to instantly. You were amazed that they didn't question two Slytherin students being on their side, but you supposed it made sense: they were the good guys.
As you watched them take his shirt off to assess the damage, a glimmer of something against his chest caught your eye. It was connected to a thin silver chain that dangled around his neck, showing slight signs of wear and tear, implying he didn't even take it off when showering. When your vision cleared, you realised that the shimmery object along the chain was none other than the white gold band of green jewels that was the matching pair to the ring on your finger.
A lump caught in your throat, "You're wearing it," you choked out.
Blaise's eyes were shut, but he smiled tiredly, "Always."
Tears pricked at your eyes.
***
Eventually, what would be known as the infamous Battle of Hogwarts ceased fire: Lord Voldemort had fallen at the hands of Harry Potter. But there weren't cheers.
There was only devastation.
The wreck that the once majestic Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become, and the subsequent deaths of thousands of kind-hearted people who had so much life to live. It was the epitome of bittersweet to watch people going around clearing up after the battle. You were grateful to be among the living, sat next to Blaise as he slept restlessly on a mat on the floor.
There wasn't really anyone else for you to talk to in the aftermath after all: Slytherins were quite isolated from the other houses, and hardly any Slytherins had stayed.
You allowed yourself the luxury of taking Blaise's hand in your own and squeezing it gently, letting a solitary tear cascade down your cheek. Was it relief? Was it hope? Was it happiness? Or was it sadness? Melancholia? Regret?
You didn't know, you simply allowed the feeling to wash over you.
"I didn't stay to fight," Blaise said out of nowhere, his voice gruff and quiet.
"Hm?"
"I stayed because you stayed."
Your heart jolted at his words, "Really?"
"Of course," he peeled his eyes open, "'Til death do us part."
You squeezed his hand again, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you act like you hated me?"
He sighed, appearing to be gathering as much energy together as he could, "I resented you, yes, but I- I was also scared of hurting you. You know what everyone thinks of my mother - that she's a-" he coughed, "-serial killer. Killing her husbands."
You admired his smooth face, despite its cuts and gashes.
"I was scared of becoming her, and I didn't want that to be your fate."
You reached out a hand to graze his prominent cheekbone, letting the tiniest of smiles tug at your lips.
"We'll be okay, Blaise," you murmured softly, "You're not like her."
He smiled slightly, wincing in the process. "No arranged marriages for our kids?"
You nodded, "No arranged marriages for our kids."
***
Your parents walked either side of you as you made your way down the grassy aisle, the summer heat blazing down on to the prettily flowered meadow. In your hands was a bouquet of white and pastel green peonies, and on your figure was a gorgeous princess ball gown that cost a small fortune. All your family and friends were stood up from their seats, gazing at your every move. Blaise, proudly stood at the altar in a black suit with a mint coloured waistcoat, was no exception. His eyes were trained into yours, making your heart flip tenfold.
Meeting him in front of the officiant, you passed your bouquet off to Pansy before allowing yourself to truly smile in your fiancé's presence. He took your hands into his and squeezed ever so slightly, as the officiant began to speak.
It felt like forever before the vows.
"I, Mr Blaise Zabini, promise to take Miss Y/N L/N to be my wife, and to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."
He slipped the ring on to your finger, where it settled above your engagement ring.
The attention was then on you.
"I, Miss Y/N L/N, promise to take Mr Blaise Zabini to be my husband, and to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part." You pushed the larger ring on to his finger.
"I now, by the power vested in me, pronounce you husband and wife."
Blaise swooped down to kiss you warmly on the lips as cheers erupted from the crowd, and you found yourself smiling into his lips.
"I love you," he whispered. Words he had never spoken before.
"I love you too."
'Til death do us part.
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masterlist
written; 27/12/2023 —> 15/02/2024 published; 16/02/2024 edited; —/—/——
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jeon-ify · 3 months
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that night : j. yunho - pt 2
a/n: HELLO!! thank you all for the love you’ve shown me in the last fic— actually all the love you’ve shown me since i started my account!! part 1 was crazy. what do we think? will reader forgive yunho???? idk girlll its crazy out here :3 on a serious note yunho does not look like the type to ever do things like this. it was originally supposed to be a san fic but san is too possessive and clingy so i decided to make yunho seem like he has a different side to him.
based on ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae
warnings: yunho is a crybaby, reader gets kinda mean, wooyoung gets horny, flirting between y/n and mingi, yunho cries a lot, reader cries a lot, mentions of violence, mingi appears, swearing
this ones a bit of a shorter chapter.
part 1 here.
—————————————————————————————
to: woo 🧍🏻‍♀️
y/n: im not opening the door
y/n: i dont wanna see his face
y/n: this is so UGHSKEJD
*seen*
woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: its not that serious just see what he wants
then think it over l8r
woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: show me the fit
woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: u better dress accordingly
*seen*
y/n: FUCK fuck the doorbell just rang
y/n: brb
——————————————
*ding ding*
(***)***-****: i’m outside
(***)***-****: hope i’m at the right place
your heart drops to your ass. you walk down the hallway and to the bathroom, looking over the way your tinted pink balm looks on your lips, triple checking the placement of your perfume, and the way your hair sits on the nape of your back. as you peek through the door, your throat falls dry.
his pretty black hair— the way it’s parted on his forehead, the way his sideburns lay on his cheekbones so delicately. his cheekbones you missed so much, it’s all hitting you so hard that he’s here— but not in the way you wanted him to be. the black crewneck he’s wearing underneath his silver chain hugs his chest so comfortably, almost making your heart hurt from how you can’t lean on his chest the way you used to.
your feet finally move themselves to walk over to the door once again— this time, to open it for the man on the other side. his breath nearly stopping from how scared he is to face you. how guilty he is that he’s doing all this because he fucked up your 6 year relationship.
he has nothing in his hands but his heart and an apology to hand over to yours— the hands that carried him when he couldn’t carry himself— the hands that you used as a weapon to fight for your relationship— the hands yunho loved to hold.
he does nothing but look. he watches the way your breathing changes. he watches the gloss in your eyes start to increase; but you’ve held back your tears tonight (hopefully).
“h-hi, y/n.” is all he manages to say. he’s taken aback from the way you look right now. the victim eyes, the sadness that he’d poured onto you years ago that he didn’t get to clean up.
“you can come in, i don’t bite.” you respond. you move to hold the door open as he takes off his shoes and hangs his car keys on the hook on the wall. you close the door behind the both of you, as yunho looks around, admiring the way you decorated your apartment. he looks like a lost puppy, waiting for you to say something.
he notices that you’ve moved on. how you have your life together. it hurts him knowing that you did this without him, and that you never needed him to love yourself, carry yourself the way you’ve always wanted. he wanted to be a part of the way you are today.
he sits down on the fluffy white couch, fiddling and picking at his nails, trying to find the words to initiate the conversation. you sit across from him, watching the way his face shifts and his mouth opens to say something, but taking back the thought.
it’s been 10 minutes. not a word was exchanged.
“yunho, why are you here? you’ve said all you needed to say over the phone.” you started. you really don’t know why he’s here, not saying a word at all. he looks up at you, having found the response to your question.
“i-i don’t know. us talking over the phone isn’t as important. but what i would like to start off with is by apologizing to you. y/n, i know that there really is nothing that would change your mind, or anything that would— you know— make you forgive me. i want to know how you’re doing in life, how every thing is treating you. how’s your lash thing going? i remember you talking about it before.”
he slurs on his words, nervousness ravishing his entire body. you notice the way his cheeks flush into a coral toned shyness, as well as the way his crewneck is slightly bouncing on his left side. his heart is beating out of his chest.
“yunho, please. i really don’t mean to disrespect you right now or devalue what you’re trying to say, but this right here isn’t gonna fix anything. if you’re trying to make things right and have me back as what you did before, it’s not working. so please, if this right here is an act, or if you’re just trying to win me back by this whole ‘sorry i fucked up take me back’ kinda thing, i’m not having it.” you already have too big of a headache for games, yunho not noticing how tired and afraid you look to face him again— to face the problem again. he nods, taking in a deep sigh of regret, knowing that he shouldn’t have shown up tonight.
you run your fingers through your hair, attempting to relieve the tension in your frontal area. yunho keeps his head down as you talk, his knuckles turning pink as he scratches and peels at the skin shielding the bone. you walk to the kitchen while yunho watches you try to get away from the conversation.
“did you want some water, or coffee or wine? any preferences? just trying to break some of the tension here is all.” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water. you’re dehydrated, your throat dry since you’ve checked yunho’s texts that night.
“i’m okay. thank you for offering. i appreciate you.”
i appreciate you.
“uh- y-yeah, you’re welcome.” you stutter, the last three words catching you off guard. you still pour him a mug of coffee, with 2 creams and no sugar, the way he used to drink it every morning with you.
his eyes are damp, glossy and emotional. you can’t tell if he’s putting on an act, or whether or not he’s actually sorry. he looks down, you hear him sniffling, trying to control his breaths. you sit down, your hand has a mind of its own, catching yourself before almost going to rub at the nape of his shoulders.
“yunho, why are you crying?” concern masks the weary and vulnerable expression displayed on your face, while yunho finally breaks.
he always hated when you asked him that. he’d never stop crying the minute you’d ask how he was or what was wrong.
“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m really sorry. i shouldn’t have come here.” he sobs. he stands up as you follow, confused as to why he’s the one hurt.
“yu, don’t leave yet. we’re not done talking.” his eyes lit up like a puppy with treats. he stops in his tracks, turning to look at the way your eyes turn soft, still wanting to talk to him. he sets his keys back down, leaving his car to run, not having a care at all.
“what made you do it?” is all you say after 6 minutes of him adjusting to the situation you’re both in.
“i’m not gonna make up a shitty excuse like oh i was drunk, but i wasn’t. i don’t understand what was going through my mind when they stopped by. they both came by and asked for you and i said you weren’t home. they asked if they could wait here and it was around the time you were almost off work.
they sat down on their phones and i was sitting in our— my room, and they called me over to sit with them. i didn’t think any of it but they kept talking and asking why you weren’t home. i told them you were just getting off work and that they should call you, but sara got up and sat right by me and started talking shit like ‘she can’t handle someone like you’ or that i deserve better.” he talks slowly, taking his time explaining, making sure nothing goes unnoticed. he’s trying to recall the moment to the best or his ability.
“did you believe any of it? did you try to tell them that you didn’t wanna do anything with them? or that maybe i could be home any second? did any of that occur to you?” you argue. right now, he’s explaining and not answering what you want him to.
“i started to, since we literally hadn’t had sex in like 4 months. you were caught up with work and i started to feel like you moved on. it’s not your fault, it never was.
but they started feeling up on me and laughing with each other about how stupid you were to think you could have someone like me— which already pissed me off. they just got super touchy and i guess i started letting go of myself and do things with them. one thing lead to another and i you got home. i wish you’d gotten home sooner that night.”
his eyes water, the deep sigh he elicits ends the conversation at that. it doesn’t feel like he’s been gone for somewhat years, it hurts like it just happened yesterday. a million thoughts at once cloud your brain until you don’t catch that his head is in his hands, tears pooling between his feet on the freshly mopped ground.
you can’t help but cry with him— an experience you both needed for a while. you feel yunho stand up from the spot next to you, kneeling before you and holding your hands in his large ones. he cries and cries for minutes on end, his eyes puffy and red. his nose crimson red and shiny. you hold his face to meet your eyes, the mutual sadness flooding the room around you.
“i’m so, so fucking sorry, baby. i’m so sorry. i never deserved you. i never did.” his eyes meet yours as tears fall down his red flushed cheekbones. he moves the both of your hands to bring them to wipe the tears on your dolled skin.
“my baby, my star, my heart, i would kill for you, i would do anything you tell me. i don’t know how to make you feel how much i regret doing this to you. you’re doing so good, you’re so independent and you don’t need me— and that fucking kills me. i was supposed to be with you. i was supposed to be by you the entire time. i fucked that up for th-the both of us.” he cries. his heart feels drained of everything, his chest empty and his eyes burning from the tears he’s cried.
“i don’t know, yunho, i need time to process all of this. i know you’re sorry, but i just don’t know what to do. what if i forgive you and you make the same mistake?”
you feel like the world stops when you watch yunho cry. it’s the worst feeling seeing him cry, because he’s just so pretty. his crewneck darkens in color from the tears he’s wiped.
“y/n. don’t feel like you need to forgive me. i want you to do it out of your own heart, i want you to readjust to me the way you did when we first met, hm? take all the time you need.” he stands up, planting a kiss on your forehead. your heart sinks as he walks out the door. your head falls into your hands, sobbing even harder than what you held in minutes ago. you don’t know what to do from this point on, leaving the situation up to the universe, or if you should start by being friends with him, then see if it would move up from there.
your phone dings twice, interrupting your crying session. you thought yunho sent you a text already, but you notice that this number isn’t familiar whatsoever. you click on the notification displayed on your lockscreen:
Today at 8:20PM
(***)***-****: hey its mingi
(***)***-****: wyd
*seen*
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HI!!! THIS CHAPTER IS SO SAD ☹️ what do we think?? should reader forgive yunho? should reader tell yunho mingi texted???? idkkkkkkkkkkk 🤞🤞
taglist: @bbae98 @haohaoshoe @k-hotchoisan @stolasisyourparent @atinytinycat @isiloiale @kpophosblog @nakiiko @certifiedmoa @aaniag @wonusbbg @yunnieo @chosoteta 🤍
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adaptacy · 8 months
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Johnny Slaughter Pregnancy H/Cs Pt.1
Cw: Mentions of trauma, angst, but also fluff and him being pretty cute for an (ex)cannibal, older Johnny, post-Sawyers
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Important Notes:
He'd left the Sawyers a long time ago. Almost three years now. Things had gotten shady- shadier than ever. Police got involved. He had to split. And he'd moved to Georgia of all places. Close enough that he was still in familiar climates, far enough that he was removed from the interference.
He didn't know what happened to the rest of 'em. Probably for the best. He'd gotten a job as a butcher, of course. It was what he was good at- carving, skinning, etc. And it paid the bills. And introduced him to you.
About a year after he'd moved, the two of you met in the shop. Johnny had been assigned to cover the register for the day since the usual coworker was gone, and you'd happened to show up that day as it was the shop you frequented when you went on grocery trips.
The interaction went as you'd expect. You asked for what you needed, and he gave it to you. You also asked if he was new, and what happened to George, the usual man behind the counter. Johnny explained that he was out sick, so he was covering for him. You found his accent amusing, since it was different than what you were used to. You asked where he was from. He said Georgia. You didn't believe him.
And you left with a kind goodbye. Didn't see him again for another two months. Didn't really think about him. Until you found him in a bar, and recognized him. The two of you chatted, and he ended up asking you on a date. Things only went uphill from there. You got along really well with him.
Well enough that, now, a little over two years later, the two of you lived together, and you were almost 6 months pregnant with his child. You didn't know a lot about his past. You knew he'd been born in Texas and didn't really know his parents. He said he'd been in a foster house, but wasn't ever adopted. He never said anything more. It seemed to be a sensitive subject for him, so you didn't really bother prying.
Overall, he was really sweet. Intimidating as hell, and had a sinister smirk, but you'd never seen him be aggressive or violent in any way. He was like a really cuddly teddy bear. A great example as to why you shouldn't judge a book by its muscular cover.
While the two of you weren't engaged, he definitely was planning on proposing. But he didn't want to stress you out- he wanted to wait until after the baby was born. He was actually quite looking forward to having a kid, but he was also very anxious about it.
Pregnancy Head-canons (SFW):
He was unsure at first. When you told him, he had no idea how to react. He put on a smile, but you could see through it. However, you didn't want to upset him, and decided it was best to give him time to process it before you overwhelmed him.
Truth was, he was scared of having a kid. He was scared for you- His own biological mom had been killed, and while he knew that it was a freak situation, he couldn't not worry about the same happening to you. In some twisted way, he worried that somehow his past would come back to bite him in the ass. And that you'd get involved.
He had occasional thoughts of running before you were pregnant. He felt that, even if something terrible happened, if he somehow was found by the cops, he could just leave you. That he could run, and protect you. But now that you were pregnant with his baby, there was no more running. And that scared him. He never would've wanted to leave you, but it was comforting to know that it was an option. It didn't feel like an option anymore.
He also wasn't sure he could be a good father. His 'family' was batshit crazy, and they'd raised him the same. What if he passed on bad traits to your kid? What if he was an awful dad and turned his kid into a psycho like him?
He'd been doing better, of course- Johnny stopped killing people, he had to. At first, he'd told himself that he'd just lay low and go back to it once the cops were less a problem, but after the first couple months, he got used to it. Got used to normal meat, to normal diets, and he found he had a lot more free time when he wasn't chasing victims around all the time.
Even so, he still worried that he'd somehow manage to make a psychotic cannibal even when he was far from it. Or that his kid would have his anger issues, or his anxiety, or somehow have his trauma- he didn't want to put that weight on anyone else. And he didn't want you to have to see that.
But eventually, Johnny warmed up to the idea. especially when you started showing a tiny baby bump. He loved how certain shirts wouldn't quite come all the way down your stomach anymore, and even if you complained about it, it gave him some... really sweet, sickeningly domestic feeling. A feeling he'd never even dreamed of.
Despite everything, he was a family man. His family was the only thing he knew growing up. And while his was a mess, and left him worse for wear in the end, he still suffered from a constantly feeling of loneliness. He was so used to constantly being surrounded by, irritated, and cared about by family, and when he was living on his own, he lacked that completely. Moving in with you certainly helped, and now that there was going to be a third in the house, it actually reassured him a bit. He'd still be able to build family bonds, and with biological family this time. Plus, you weren't a psycho, so that definitely helped.
Because of this, he grew very attached to the baby once he got over his initial worries. He'd still have the occasional intrusive thoughts, but they were rare and he was able to push them out of his mind. He wanted a family with you, and he was going to have one.
But, Jesus fucking Christ, you were so goddamn careless. You acted the exact same, did the exact same activities, you lived life precisely how you did before you were pregnant, and Johnny was surprisingly overprotective of you and the baby. He refused to let you go to the bar or have even the slightest drop of anything alcoholic, and you'd expressed your frustrations that he was still allowed to drink but you weren't.
So? He stopped drinking. And then you came out one day to share a cig with him, and he'd practically carried you back inside because he didn't want you anywhere around cigarette smoke. You didn't really believe that cigarettes and drinking could have that bad of an effect, and you didn't do them all that often anyways. But Johnny refused to take any risks. He wanted to give your kid everything that Johnny didn't receive growing up, and that started with making sure you were as healthy as possible.
It wasn't long before he gave up smoking, too. It was tough, for both of you- really tough, actually, but you managed to make it through. If he could give up slaughtering and being a cannibal, he could give up cigs, and he knew you could too.
When the morning sickness started, he swore that you were dying. You had to reassure him constantly that it was fine, but only when your doctor also reassured him of this did he finally let it go. Still, he made sure to get whatever anti-nausea remedies possible, since you 'needed to keep the food inside of you' for the baby.
Oh, that too. He made meals. on meals. on meals. on meals. He was still a butcher, so he got first pick of the meats, and he loved bragging that he cut it himself. It was actually really cute to see someone so muscular and manly in the kitchen seasoning chicken and making salads. He was a really good cook. Wonder where he learned that...
Pregnancy cravings he would do his best to fuel, and while you joked about how he should try them with you, he refused. Listen- he could stomach a lot, but pickles in ice cream? Absolutely the fuck not. He could hardly watch you eat it, and he was a fucking cannibal for most of his life. But, he still provided them nonetheless.
Listen, the baby bump was one thing, but when you really started showing and started complaining about the baby kicking, he was at a loss for words. He didn't even know that was something that the baby could do at this stage. Well, to be fair, he didn't really know anything about pregnancy since he was the youngest in his family, but he could've assumed most of it. Other than the baby kicking. He'd ask over and over again if you were sure it wasn't just a stomach ache, or if you'd eaten something wrong.
In order to reassure him, you'd grab his wrists and put his palms against your belly. "What are you doin'?" "Just wait..." "Sweetpea, I'm serious, maybe we should go to the doct-" A pause. He looked between you and your belly. "Feel it?" "That... that was it?" "Mhm. That's our baby."
Rest assured, the first thing he did any time you mentioned the kicks in the future was reach to feel it himself. There was something about feeling the kicks that just... made him happy. Pleased him. Maybe it was knowing that your kid was healthy, or the fact that feeling it meant it was really happening- it just made the entire thing feel more real to him.
Around the 7 and a half month mark, he refused to let you do anything by yourself.
Getting food? "Nah, darlin' I can get it. Just stay here, I'll be right back."
Dropped something? "Don't- Don't go bendin' over, yer gonna fall, or hurt yerself. Where'd ya drop it? I'll get it."
Showering? "Hold onto my arm- I gotcha, sweetpea. How bout I run a bath fer ya? Make ya more comfortable."
Changing clothes? Well, he kind of already was there for that since he liked seeing you naked, especially with a baby bump, but you get the point. No matter what you were doing, he was there, doing his best to help you, even if it was pretty unnecessary sometimes.
Part 2 coming soon! Tumblr just has a word limit. Domestic fluff Johnny makes me so happy <333
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gabessquishytum · 3 months
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all the werewolf and mafia asks have inspired me. so! Werewolf Mafia-ish, idea #1
Werewolves (and other supernatural creatures?) are known. Some cities have bigger werewolf populations than others and the rules are... different, there. Most regular laws still apply but the wolves are dangerous and they have their own rules and laws that everyone living in a werewolf controlled city has to follow. Follow the rules, and you'll be fine. Probably.
Hob is living in one of those places. Not by necessarily by choice, mind- Eleanor was a werewolf and so is Robyn and Hob figures Robyn is better off in a mostly-wolf city than a mostly-human one.
So he pushes through it, teaching during the week and tending bar on the weekends to try and put himself through grad school so he can give Robyn a better life (they were young parents- poor Hob is only 25 and raising a 5 year old on his own).
And then Hob meets Dream. More accurately, Dream (Endless, leader of his pack and ruler of this town) catches his scent and hunts him down. Dream has made his claim on him and between the wolf laws and Dream being who he is, Hob has no choice but to accept, if only for Robyn's sake.
Unfortunately for Hob (and fortunately for Dream), Hob has never even kissed another man, let alone fuck (or been fucked by) one; he's certainly never been knotted.
Luckily, Dream is a patient man. Or as patient as he can be- he wants Hob ready in a month so they can complete the claim under the full moon where it'll be at its strongest; a knot and a bite (not necessarily a turning, not if he doesn't want it) and Dream's own mark on him.
(Hob and Robyn move in with Dream when Dream promises they'll both be taken care of. Hob will get to focus on school and his son, and Robyn will get to be around other werewolves full time and get a brother in the form of 7 year old Orpheus.
At least Hob doesn't have to worry about him being unsupervised; now he can focus on his bi awakening in the form of Dream's touch and teachings <3)
OOO pack leader Dream AND claiming AND kinda arranged marriage!! I like it!!
Once Hob has moved into Dream’s place full time, he gets a full presentation with what to expect from mating a male werewolf. Dream brings in a Doctor to explain the biology, a were-sex and relationships coach to help Hob understand what it will really be like. It's going to be nothing like his life with Eleanor, and he's almost glad that he won't just be replacing his first love.
He's still nervous though. Dream has extremely high status, and Hob will have to contribute to pack life as his mate. He doesn't want to let Dream down. And Dream is also powerful physically. He tracked Hob down by scent alone, and he's stronger and faster than Hob is used to, even after Eleanor. Hob finds it so hard to relax, although he's accepted his new life. How can he be the mate that Dream obviously expects him to be?
Cue Dream trying to make Hob feel safe and comfortable in his new home and relationship. Hob comes home to find that Dream has made a nest for them the share, a big soft cocoon lined with soft things and comfort items. They awkwardly cuddle up and Hob realises that Dream’s scent is actually soothing him. He ends up falling asleep in Dream’s arms and wakes to find Robyn and Orpheus cuddled up too. At last, Hob feels a rush of love and warmth, like he doesn't want to be anywhere else in the world.
Of course there's the issue of... warming up to the mating. Its a major moment of self discovery for Hob. For the first time he practices penetration with a series of increasingly large toys, and... his body loves it. It's the most natural thing in the world. He stays up for hours in the night until he's cum dry and he's completely exhausted. It just feels too good to stop. Apparently, Dream is getting his own little knotslut as a mate. Lucky him.
The more he plays with himself and spends time with Dream, the more Hob wants. He practically begs Dream to fuck him but he won't, not until the appointed him. Hob has to make do with lots of kissing and touching and general shenanigans in the nest, but no knotting. Not yet.
He realises, by the time full moon comes around, that he's happy. Robyn is happy. Dream seems happy too, and doesn't seem to regret choosing Hob as a mate. Quite the opposite in fact. He can't keep his hands off Hob.
And when he howls Hob’s name out on their first knotting, the whole town will hear and know that their love is blossoming.
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alwaysshallow · 4 months
Note
I’m absolutely IN LOVE with your writing, you’re so so talented and I can’t believe I’m so blessed to be able to read it! (I’m in love with coffee at midnight)
Anyway, now that I’m done fan-girling, time for some more! Could I please ask for something super soft with Johnny/Soap? Maybe he comes home and its around Christmas time and despite him being on deployment he still got reader presents? Maybe a cuddle or two 🥹
Don’t worry about writing this if you have too much writing to do, I don’t want to overwhelm you!
-🪐
"He's gonna be home soon, I know it," your mother in law says, the calmness in her eyes evident. She smiles at you, reassuringly caressing your arm; it helps, but you still can't quite get the peace you want.
You anxiously play with your fingers. Johnny was supposed to be there almost two hours ago, back from deployment. You're waiting for him to start everything. Presents are under the tree, meal on the table, still warm.
It doesn't even matter that he told you there might be some problems on the road since it was snowy, your head is full with bad thoughts what could possibly happen. The way his phone is unreachable is also troublesome, this man is always on his phone and has it around his ass. Either to play Candy Crush or text with you absolutely innappriopate things whenever he can, off or on the field, but he always has it.
You shake your head, as if it would make the dark scenarios go away. It's Christmas, nothing can possibly happen to him, right?
"Hope everyone's been good this year," you hear from the front door, the moment you decorated last cupcake. This familiar, warm voice makes you smile immediately, so you slowly walk towards the hallway even if you want to rush there; his family comes first, especially the cousins, little ones that run for their life to see him.
You love this view. You love seeing him being adored, wanted in every room possible. He's like a star, absolutely everywhere, no exceptions. Sometimes, it irritates you (especially his arrogant attiude), but most of the times, you smile. Just like you do now.
"And my favorite," he grins at you, opening his arms, and you melt into him, just like a marshmellow.
For a few seconds, it's just silence between you two, nothing except a tight hug and his close embrace that you could be in your entire life, if you'd have a choice. Then, with his arms still wrapped around you, he kisses your face a couple of times, not even ashamed a little bit about the crowd.
John MacTavish in a nutshell.
"Had me worried for a minute," you murmur, fixing his messy mohawk from the snow outside; Scot tilts his head with a slightly amused look.
"Worried about a lad like me? No way, love." He bites your ear playfully, at which you roll your eyes. "Had to collect some... thingies, on the way home."
"Thingies?" you raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side, simply curious what he has on mind. He nods, then points to his duffel bag, right by the door.
"Thingies. Gifts, for ye. Because you took care of the fam," he whispers, squeezing your waist tighter. You barely contain yourself from shrieking at this—this man does not have a hair of knowledge how strong he is. "And who's gonna take care of my favorite person on Earth, if not me?"
"Johnny, I—"
He interrupts your monologue before it even starts by kissing you again; and you have nothing to say afterwards. There's just a faint smile on your lips, and he's more than pleased that he actually managed to silence you.
"Merry Christmas, my love."
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jadewingedspear · 1 year
Text
Rendezvous
Xiao x reader x Zhongli (threesome)
Warnings: smut. afab! reader, she/her pronouns. use of ‘girlfriend’, ‘princess’, ‘pretty’, ‘pussy’, etc. Bisexual MMF threesome. Established relationship between Xiao and Reader, past relationship between Xiao and Morax. Unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (m receiving), oral (m and f receiving), fuck train? idk lol. Self indulgent, this is a fantasy I’ve decided to share. Probably a mix of tenses lol. Second draft only. Reader knows Zhongli's identity.
2.8k words.
18+ only!
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“And how is his karmic debt?” 
“It’s been quite calm over the last few nights, actually. I make sure he gets plenty of rest.” 
“Very good.” The man in front of you states. He places his now empty cup down onto its saucer on the table.
“You could have asked me directly.” Xiao sulks next to you.
Zhongli chuckles, “I have reasons to think you would neglect to tell me if it had been bothersome lately.” Zhongli sits up straight and places his hands in his lap. “But, in any case, I have a proposal for the two of you.” You put your own cup down, leaning forward to show you’re listening. “Sure. We’re all ears.”
Xiao pays attention too, cocking his head to the side at Zhongli’s statement. There’s a slight pause before the Lord of Geo states what’s on his mind, “As you’re aware,” Zhongli addresses you, “Xiao and I…have a past.”
You nod. You were aware, but it didn’t bother you. It was thousands of years ago, after all. Zhongli takes your silence as permission to move forward. “I thought it might be interesting if we could spend a night together. All three of us.”
Xiao’s eyes widen as he puts together two and two, but he doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to avoid eye contact with anyone. You, however, shrug, “Sure. What do you want to do?” Xiao shifts next to you, clearly uncomfortable.
“Y/N…” Xiao whispers.
The Archon can only chuckle deeply at your naivety. It was so cute, seeing your doe eyes sparkling with innocence. It only made him sure to set his words into stone. “What I have in mind is a sort of…sexual rendezvous.” 
------
You weren’t bound, but you couldn’t seem to move from the edge of the bed that you share with your boyfriend at Wangshu Inn. In front of you is a scene you never thought you’d witness: Your current partner, Xiao, tied naked to a wooden chair with his hands behind his back. He was stripped of all clothes, and his cock of average length stood proudly in the air. The head was red and leaking, dribbling pre-cum down the veins on the side of his shaft. In front of him stood the God he serves, the God of the nation you reside in: a shirtless Rex Lapis himself, his hands gripping the chin of Xiao, thumb denting into the smaller man’s blushing cheek. He had Xiao’s head tilted up, forcing eye contact between the two.
“Do you miss the days when I had my way with you? Hmmm?” Zhongli enquires, voice low and gruff, a smirk playing at his lips. Xiao’s breath quickened but he neglected to answer, his denial confirming Zhongli’s suspicions. 
You knew Xiao to be reserved, a man of few words. Obedience to Rex Lapis is one thing, but to see him submit to Zhongli like this had your stomach in knots and your thighs rubbing together. 
Zhongli side eyes you, smirking still. “Is he as submissive as I remember him, (Y/N)?” The moonlight has struck the man in all the right ways, capturing the edge of his hair and body just enough to give him a soft, silver glow, painting an angelic image.
You stammer, “Uh, I’d say we both have our way with each other…equally.” Your answer seems to shock Zhongli as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It shocks you, too. It feels crude to admit such intimacies to a deity. His eyes drift back to your boyfriend, “Oh…” he almost moans. “I see. I knew you had it in you.”
“I slay demons and you think I’m incapable of such… activities?” Xiao bites back, testing his limits. The god only laughs, broad shoulders and defined chest shaking with him. After a few moments the laugh trails off and the man takes a deep breath, before leaning in close to the ear of the smaller man. You almost don’t catch what he says, but lowly, Zhongli whispers, “Do you miss it?”
You see Xiao’s adam’s apple bob up and down. He loosed a shaky breath. Zhongli let go of his face. Xiao’s silence and denial is, once again, taken as his answer.  Shivering with anticipation, you watch eagerly as Zhongli, towering over Xiao, begins to sort of straddle the younger man. He stayed standing up, but leaned his pelvis towards Xiao’s face. You swallowed thickly.
“Unzip me with your mouth.” Zhongli orders, his deep voice reverberating through your chest, making you suddenly aware of your heartbeat and your blood rushing through your veins. His face looks down on Xiao mockingly, staring him down as he waited. Only now does it occur to you that this…this is Morax.
Xiao glances at you for the first time that night, eyes looking apologetic. You shoot a supportive smile his way, but his eyes don’t linger on you long enough for him to catch it.  He leaned into Zhongli’s pelvis, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants with his mouth. This was a skill that he most likely hadn’t used in a millennia, yet he still had it. He captures the zip in between his teeth, and looking up to make eye contact with his God, he slowly drags the zipper down. With a triumphant smirk, Zhongli takes it upon himself to push both his pants and underwear down, discarding them to the side.  
You take a sharp intake of breath. The cock that springs from the man is bigger than you could have imagined, the weight of it bringing it down to slap Xiao in the face. Zhongli was proud that he was so well-endowed, no doubt. He places a hand behind the head of your boyfriend. “You know what to do.”
Without hesitation, Xiao leans in and begins to swirl his tongue over the tip of Zhongli’s dick. The tip was red and angry, supported by a girthy shaft with multiple prominent veins running down the length. You feel yourself beginning to lean forward, mesmiration pulling you closer and closer to the two men. Seeing Xiao as he begins to sink his mouth and throat further down Zhongli’s cock was having a bigger effect on you than you expected. Your breath got caught in your throat, jaw going slack. You almost wanted to join in, but Zhongli was intimidating enough as is. Xiao continues to bob his head on the other man’s impressive length. He couldn’t fit all of it, but Zhongli groans softly in approval regardless. He thrusts lightly, as if encouraging Xiao to take as much as he can. 
Xiao comes up for air and Zhongli takes the opportunity to turn his focus on you. “I think your pretty little girlfriend deserves some attention, don’t you?” he teases, taking two long strides to reach you. Xiao only pants heavily, slumped as far forward as his bindings allow him, watching you helplessly. The look in his eyes is full of hunger and need.
Your head is perfectly in line with Zhongli’s rock hard cock, slick and reflecting the moonlight on Xiao’s spit. Zhongli places his palm on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek as he gazes down at you with a gentle fondness. A smile can’t help but creep onto your face. “I often reminisce on the past, dear, but that doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to future endeavours.” He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, thumb still stroking your cheek, as if to help suppress the nerves. Kissing another man felt strange anyway, but knowing your boyfriend was witness to all of this felt even stranger. Nonetheless, you melted into the kiss. When the man pulled away, you couldn’t help but chase after him, but eventually accepted the loss. Xiao watched on still, cock still standing up.
Zhongli turned to the smaller man again. With ease, he grabbed the front leg of the chair Xiao was perched on and dragged it to the side of the bed. Xiao gave a little ‘hmph’, but protested no further. It was tempting to climb on top of Xiao and ride his cock with Zhongli as your audience, humiliate him in front of his God, but, well… I suppose his God had already done that tonight.
“You’re going to watch me take your girlfriend.” Zhongli stated. He wasn’t asking for permission. Xiao only looks at him, waiting for him to continue. Even you were waiting in anticipation for his next statement.
“And then I’m going to take you.”
Oh.
Xiao gulps.
Oh.
You gulp.
Zhongli pulls your shirt up over your head and discards it on the floor. He groans in pleasure at the sight of your tits bouncing down, nipples hard due to the cold. “Perfect.” He growls before diving in to speckle your chest and clavicle with kisses and bites. You throw your head back, a light moan escaping your lips as you hold onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders for anchorage. Xiao whines a little and you can see in your peripheral vision that he’s thrusting upwards. Zhongli chuckles and pulls away from your chest, starting to drag your pants and underwear down.
“Have some patience, my little Yaksha.” Zhongli taunts, swinging your underwear on his index finger. “It’ll be your turn very soon.” The god flings your underwear at Xiao, the thin material landing on his face before dropping down to his chest. Both you and Xiao light up red, the action both arousing and embarrassing you.
Soon, Rex Lapis has taken his spot in between your legs, breath fanning over your wet pussy which was clenching around nothing. “Let me worship you.” He whispers, golden eyes locking with your own. You gulp. Even Xiao tensed up at his words. You know he only means it in a sexual context, but even hearing such utterances from a God’s mouth felt blasphemous. Yet here he was, between your legs, mere centimeters away from your sex. Zhongli waited patiently for your consent.
“Yes…” you trail off with an uncertainty in your tone. That was enough for the god, though, as he instantly licks a wet stripe up your pussy.
You instantly grip the sheets in your fist, a moan escaping your lips. His tongue works magic between your folds, slurping up your essence before moving to circle your clit. His lips pinch your bud lightly, small suckles sending electric shots through your body. He wasn’t rough, but he was fast; it was different to Xiao’s slow and romantic approach, but still felt amazing. 
You turn your head to the side to observe Xiao. His cock was leaking a plentiful amount of precum. His eyelids were heavy as he watched you being ravished by someone who once ravished him, jaw slightly slack and chest still heaving at a fast pace.
Zhongli sucked at your clit some more while prodding your entrance with two of your fingers, easily sliding them in. You tear your gaze away from Xiao, moaning at the feeling of being full. His two fingers pumped in and out, scissoring and stretching your hole while his lips were still hard at work. The two working in harmony brought you closer and closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and louder, chest heaving heavier and heavier until he-
pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, high pitched and desperate for more. Zhongli only smirks, “I do apologise. That was only prep.” He sticks his fingers in front of Xiao’s mouth. He obediently takes the two fingers in his mouth, moaning at your sweet juices. He sucks them skilfully before Zhongli pulls them out.
Morax then sits on his knees, settling himself in your legs. “Ready princess?” He lines his cock up with your entrance. His gaze pierces yours, intimidating and sexy all at once, as he again, waits for your consent. 
“Please.” You beg quietly. Not needing to be told twice, the god sheaths himself inside your hot sex. “Oh!” you moan loudly, the stretch being more than you could have imagined. Xiao wasn’t below average, but who could compete with the Lord of Geo? You had never felt quite so stuffed in your life.
The man above you groans as he thrusted in until he was balls deep, stilling for a moment. “So tight.” He breathes out. “Oh, how lucky you are Xiao… you get to bury your cock in this perfect little pussy as much as you want.” He then pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in again, setting a steady and fast pace. Zhongli presses a thumb to your clit.
“Does Xiao fuck you this hard? Huh?”
“N-no!” You cry out, shame blooming over your face in the form of a blush. It wasn’t a lie, though. 
“Does his cock fill you up this well?” He demands, hair sticking to his face and forehead with sweat. You shake your head, moaning still as he continues to fuck you reltentlessly. You leaked juices around his thick cock, coating your thighs.
“Do you moan and whine like this for Xiao?” The god asks again.
“She sounds even better for me.” A voice says, a matter-of-factly tone ring to it.
Zhongli’s thrusting slows, but doesn’t stop, as he turns his head to the yaksha. Small moans still emit from you. Xiao sits there, stern glare shooting Zhongli’s way. Morax laughs lowly, “Well then, I’d like to see it.” The god pulls out of you, and your pussy clenches around nothing. The loss of his cock leaves you whining. Zhongli stands and tugs at the rope binding Xiao’s wrists, and the small man wastes no time in settling between your legs, not bothering to wait for the other man’s orders. 
“I want to hear her moan your name.” Zhongli says, observing the two of you.
“My love.” Xiao whispers affectionately, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You wrap your arms around his back, hands entangling themselves in his hair. Having his familiar weight on you brought you comfort.
You feel Xiao’s smaller cock slide into your entrance with ease, having been stretched open by Zhongli’s incomparable size. Still though, Xiao’s dick fits you perfectly, curving upwards beautifully to constantly rub against your G-spot. You moan into his mouth. Xiao fucks you at a slower pace than the god, choosing long, drawn out thrusts as he continues kissing you. This was your favourite kind of sex. Passionate, close, full of love. 
The bed dips at your feet, and you know Zhongli has taken his place behind Xiao. Xiao pulls his lips off you with a whine, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts stutter at a disturbance. You look behind him, only to see Zhongli starting to scissor Xiao’s tight hole open. You moan at the sight, pussy clenching around your boyfriend’s length. He whines down your ear.
“I‘ve missed this little hole of yours.” Morax confesses. “I can’t wait to fuck it.” 
Zhongli mounts Xiao, hands gripping the man’s petite waist. As he pushes his dick into Xiao’s ass, your boyfriend thrusts deeper into you from the force behind him. You stroke his hair to ease him through the pain of the stretch and wait for it to turn to pleasure.
The pace soon picks up and both you and Xiao are moaning into each other’s ears while Zhongli groans. He fucks Xiao hard and fast. Him fucking Xiao rocks Xiao into you, his curved dick hitting all the right places in your sweet little pussy. Lewd noises could be heard, squelching and balls slapping. You couldn’t help but be embarrassed by it. 
“Xiao,” you moan, “I’m close.”
Xiao ruts into your pussy as best he can while also trying to fuck himself on Zhongli’s cock. The pleasure he’s feeling has his head spinning. Your warm pussy enveloping his cock while his own prostate was being hit by Morax’s girth. He’s scared he’d become addicted.
Rex Lapis quickening his pace indicates that he, too, is close. He groans, his knuckles turning white as he tightens his grip on Xiao’s waist. 
“Xiao!” You continue moaning. “Please!” and with that you came, juices gushing out from your pussy and down the side of Xiao’s dick, sloshing and squelching before leaking down your to ass cheeks. Zhongli also stilled, thrusting into Xiao as far as he could, cumming deep inside, a low moan roaring from his chest. This left Xiao pinned to you, whining as he spills his own hot cum inside you, filling you up and mixing with your own juices.
Zhongli pulls out first, taking it slow. Xiao, collapsed on your chest, pants as he breathes deeply. He pulls his cock out but opts to stay snuggled up to you, panting down your ear. You feel slimy and slippery, but your post-orgasmic bliss relaxes you. “Oh my gosh.” You whisper. You need to process what the fuck just happened. You, the Vigilant Yaksha, and the God of Liyue.
Zhongli lies beside you, a large hand rubbing up and down Xiao’s back. He chuckles fondly, “I think he’ll rest well tonight.” Xiao quickly pecks your cheek.
“I think I will, too.” You claim.
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