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#wait the top person is at 2023 points
jpnriikicore · 8 months
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── hickey prank
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paring colby brock x fem!youtuber!reader, word count 421, genre kinda suggestive, ( masterlist )
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"hey guys welcome to or back to my channel I’m y/n y/l/n and today I’m here with,"
"katrina."
"and I’m going to be playing another prank on colby with the lovely help of kat. we're going to put "hickeys" on my neck using makeup and hopefully it will turn out good and look somewhat realistic."
you’ve been planning this prank for a least a week now. texting a lot more and every time he asked who your texting you gave him a vague answer, but really the "someone i know" was just really kat just to make it more "suspicious".
you and colby are supposed to be going to dinner tonight. colby was currently in the shower, so you a kat had some time to put the makeup on. you toke off one of his hoodies that you’ve been wearing all day leaving you in a tank top. you set up a timelapse of kat putting the makeup on your neck.
once finishing up you heard the water of the shower turn off. you help kat quickly pack up her makeup and she sneaks off back to sam’s room.
you look in the mirror for the ninth time smoothing out the black dress. its one of colby’s personal favorites on you. he walks into his bedroom with only a towel around his waist rubbing his hair with a towel. he laughs, "is this another one of your pranks?"
"what do you mean?" your face scrunches in confusion.
"stop playing dumb."
he came closer to the point where your bodies are flushed together and your face inches apart. your breathe hitches in your throat as you become very aware of your height difference.
he gently grabs the back of your neck rubbing the "hickey" with the pad of his thumb. now, smudging the makeup on your neck. he glances down at his thumb seeing faint makeup smudged.
"nice try."
your phone dinged notifying you that you got a text message. colby glanced over to see your phone that laying on the bed.
you saw the message is from "caleb" who was just really kat. you purposely did this just to get more of a reaction out of him. "you know your mine, right?"
you nodded "i’m yours."
he picked you up holding you by underneath your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist. he lays you on the bed and kisses down your neck sucking hickeys on your skin.
"wait, what about the reservation?"
"fuck, the reservation."
© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023
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burning-omen · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 1: Breeding + Jason Todd
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Jason Todd x male reader
Kinktober 2023 list | Day 2 | Ao3
(a/n; “hey it's September 30th, right? Tf you mean ‘it's october 1st’ no the fuck it no- AHHHHHH” me about three hours ago realizing that I never finished THE FIRST DAY of kinktober )
Summary: You’re a photographer at the Wayne Family events, after meeting Jason by chance they start growing closer
Warning: Horny Jason, horny reader, top!reader, bottom!jason, Jason moans like a bitch, rude rich people, pillow princess + brat Jason Todd, unprotected sex, breeding, not beta read lol.
Word count: 3.4k
To the shock of everyone involved, Jason Todd attended all of the Wayne Galas, not because he liked them- obviously. No, these things were horrible and stuffy and he hated every last person in attendance. Well, almost every last person. Bruce had hired a photographer a few months back, the first few events that you photographed you were mostly in the background, taking wide shots of the entire party, only recently did you start to mingle with the crowd more.
You met Jason a few weeks back as you tried to navigate through a pushy crowd of rich people who, to no one surprise, all thought they were the most important person there. You got pushed into Jason by a man who looked like he could have been British royalty in the 1800s, he sneered at you like a cartoon villain before walking away. You'd been overly apologetic that day, having nearly knocked the drink out of his hand. He was fine though, if not slightly enamored, you looked nice, but out of place, your clothes weren't quite up to Wayne Gala standards, before he could ask what you were doing here, he noticed the camera hanging from your neck, and offered to be your guide.
He ended up sticking with you for the rest of the night, talking as you took pictures of various people and decor around the event. It made your job a hell of a lot easier, people were quick to bump into you, you weren't rich and therefore weren't fully human to these people, but Jason was one of them, well, he was close enough, and even if he wasn't, if he was just as out of place as you, nobody was going to disrespect the host's son.
By the end of the night, you and Jason were on one of the balconies looking over all the photos from that night, and eventually some of your other work.
Eventually, you did have to leave, Bruce was paying for your ride and you really didn't want him to have to wait any longer.
You only got closer after that, every event that the Waynes hosted, you were there, and on your tail- as always- was Jason.
Your relationship didn't take a turn until the last party the Wayne through, this one wasn't a charity but a birthday party for Bruce's friend, Oliver Queen, who insisted he needed to have it in Gotham. And even though Bruce gave a perfect speech regarding their friendship, you couldn't help but hear the irritation behind it. The night went on as usual, with Jason acting as your shadow as you weed through the crowd.
Your end of the night ritual is the only thing that changed, as you were showing Jason the pictures from tonight, he leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, an odd act from the man, considering the most he'd touched you at this point was him putting a hand on your shoulder or tapping you to get your attention.
“Tired?” you asked jokingly.
“No,” he said but didn't elaborate.
As you continued to shuffle through the pictures you could feel him nuzzling into your neck. You let out a short, nervous laugh.
“Are you drunk?”
He hummed quietly, then laughed, “No, I'm just…”
He didn't continue, just pressing further into you, you gave up on showing him the photos for now, instead carding your fingers through his hair. Feeling just how different the white streak felt from the rest of his hair, most of his hair was thick and smooth, running through your fingers with ease. The white part was thick too, but it just felt like air, so light and delicate that you could barely feel it against your fingers.
You didn't stop until you felt his lips press against your neck, again and again as he hummed in contempt.
“Jason…” you muttered but didn't move to stop him.
He eventually moved up to your face- your cheeks, your jaw, your lips- with his kisses. It was only when you made a move and kissed him back did things escalate.
You ended up fumbling around on the floor with him, then in the hall, and on the wall next to his bedroom wall, and eventually in his bedroom. Which resulted in the most embarrassing walk of shame you've ever experienced as you had to run past your literal boss having breakfast with the rest of his family- he looked just as shocked as you imagined he would. Jason's older brother, Dick, made a comment that made Jason shout at him, you couldn't hear it with how hard your heart was beating in your ears.
You expected everything to end after that, your friendship with Jason, your job, your reputation as a photographer.
But to your surprise, the moment the front door closed behind you, Jason grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss, sweet and slow, nowhere near as frantic and lust-filled as they were the night before.
You started getting together outside of events after that, he stayed at your apartment most days, because ‘he liked being surrounded by you’. You learned a few things about him too, a big one being that he was a bottom, not just a bottom. A total pillow princess as well. He’ll flirt and tease all day and night long, but the moment you turn around to do the same to him, he becomes so pliant, letting you move him how you like, touch him how you liked, and fuck him how you liked.
Considering how close you'd become with his son, you figured you'd never get a call from Bruce to do another job. But you did, and despite feeling a bit out of place at first you eventually got back into it. Jason was your shadow as always, whispering things he definitely shouldn't in your ear, making it hard to focus.
“When was the last time we fucked, honestly?”
“Babe, I'm working,” you said calmly.
“It’s a genuine question.”
You sighed, “about a week ago, when the power went out.”
He only chuckled, still leaning down in you ear.
“There’s gotta be a broom closet somewhere around here-”
“Jason, stop it-”
“I want you to fuck me right up against the door, let everybody hear me while you-”
“Jason-”
“Jason!”
Looking over you saw Dick, who was probably the most outwardly supportive of your relationship with Jason out of everyone in his family. The presence of his brother shut him up quickly, his face turning a bit red. You and Jason wandered around the party with Dick for a while, you were having a great time, taking photos as Dick told to funny little stories about Jason.
Jason, however, wasn't having a great time. He’d planned to flirt with you all night then get fucked so hard that his brain stopped working, then getting pampered by you for the rest of the night, unfortunately, Dick had taken an interest in you for the night, purely platonic of course, but it was constant, and even though Dick has definitely seen Jason at his worst, it'd be really fucking weird if he begged you to fuck him within earshot of his brother. So he held out, frustrated and horny as the party droned on.
By the time guests started leaving you'd been informed of every little embarrassing thing Jason has ever done- including stealing the wheels off Bruces car, some stories had to be left out or changed for obvious reasons, but outside of that, you were caught up on Jason's embarrassment timeline. You could practically feel Jason stewing behind you, horny, frustrated, and, embarrassed all at once.
“I think it's time for us to go, if we stay any longer Jason's brain is going to start leaking out of his ears.”
You said your goodbyes to Dick and turned to Jason, who was glaring after the man as he walked away.
“We can go now.”
The fumble up to his bedroom was exactly that, a fumble as you clumsily avoided the lingering guest, and as you took a few minutes to worship the exposed pieces of his body on the stairs with your hands and mouth, only moving when you heard footsteps.
You didn't carry Jason into the room, but you might as well have with the way you controlled his every move. He fell back onto his bed, spreading his legs subconsciously even though he was still fully dressed. The smile on his face only grew wider when you yanked him by his now loose tie, pulling him back up to you, pressing a kiss on his lips that only got more heated with every passing second. Kneeling on the bed, his legs wrapped around your waist almost instantly, you could feel the heels of the balmorals Bruce had bought him digging into the back of your thigh.
He pulled back, flopping down on the bed. Jason's hands, however steady they were before, became utterly useless in a matter of seconds as he failed to unbutton his pants several times before giving up, wordlessly resting his hands above his head, staring up at you expectantly. The term ‘pillow princess’ came to mind for a brief second as you unbuttoned them for him. Purposefully ignoring the tight bulge in his pants that was nearly demanding your attention.
“Come on, y/n,” he muttered, his voice as deep as ever.
Slowly rocking his hips against yours in a desperate, yet short lived, attempt at getting you to act. You were by no means cruel, and considering his little plan for the night hadn't fallen through, you indulged him. Lifting his still-clothed thigh up to your shoulder, you had to do a bit of maneuvering to get his pants down to his ankles, Jason was entirely unhelpful, you'd be convinced he was a rag doll if it weren't for his inability to stop fucking squirming.
The way his cock twitched in his pants showed you just how desperate he was, thrusting up against nothing, a short whine coming from somewhere deep in his throat as he started up at you with those pretty blue eyes.
You ran your hands over the exposed skin of his thigh, leaning down and kissing them, leaving little bruises and bites before switching to the next. His gaze was intense, almost glaring, but the whines and whimpers he let out told you that he was just desperate.
Then, unexpectedly, you slid your hand all the way down the inside of his thigh, feeling goosebumps rise in your wake, Jason figured you'd stop just before his cock, you liked teasing him like that, liked taking him apart slowly. But that's apparently not what you had in mind tonight, he only realized that when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, the fabric of his boxers tightened along with your grip. He whined, bucking up into your hand.
Far faster than he expected, you stroked him through his pants, the texture of them and the squeezing pressure your hand provided sending shivers up and down his spine. He gripped the bedsheets as you settled into a pleasant rhythm, fast and tight around his sensitive cock.
His eyes hung low, squeezing shut when you brushed over the tip.
Jason came quickly, hips sputtering and muttering incoherently as he did, cum sleeping through black fabric, drenching your hand and the boxers.
You pulled back, putting your hands back on his thighs, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly as he came down.
Hands still gripping the sheets, he sat there and waited, waiting for you to do something, you were in control after all. But you didn't, you just watched him, his chest rising and falling, cum splattered on his underwear and just under his belly button, the bruises and bites littering his thighs.
“Y/n..” he muttered, hard and horny all over again.
You laughed, “yes?”
He scooted closer to you until you hips were firmly pressed against his ass. Even then, you could here him muttering ‘come on’ over and over against under his breath.
“Speak up, you have to tell me what you want.”
He glared, a real harsh glare that you knew was born out of frustration. He should have known you'd be like this, for a moment he thought he'd really gotten off the hook, but you never just let him cum, you never just fucked him, no, he had to beg for it, as though him presenting himself to you wasn't begging enough.
“Just,” suddenly unable to find his words, Jason groaned, “do something!”
You let out another short laugh, then asked, “Something like what?”
The urge to kick you suddenly immereged.
“Anything, please I-” his hands went from the bedsheets to his face, covering his eyes as his brain once again failed to produce the right words.
You leaned down, pressing kisses down his throat and the pieces of his chest that we're exposed.
After a moment you asked, “How about you tell me what you wanted earlier, you seemed to have a lot of ideas then.”
He shifted, his hands finding the bed again, seems like his mind was racing, as his eyes were almost completely unfocused and blush rose on his cheeks with every second that passed, you gave him a moment to sort himself out.
He spoke suddenly, his voice coming out with some force, “I need you to fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, like you did when the power went out and we didn’t have anything else to do but fuck over and over again, I need you to fuck me like that again, I want you to cum in me so many times that it drips out of my ass and ruins the bed- ah- and I- I can’t- I can’t fucking think with you grinding against me like that so can you please just hurry up and do something!”
A wide grin spread out on your face, even though you barely comprehended that you were grinding your bulge into his ass, it was good to see how a bit of gentle pressure was already making him writhe.
You pulled back, before he could stop complaining you flipped the giant of a man onto his stomach with a hard shove. You heard him moan as he bounced against the bed, he liked being manhandled, but you figured that one out a while ago.
Pulling his boxers down to his knees, fully ready to prep him, only to see the familiar shiny glint of lube covering his hole. Without thinking, you pressed a finger in, feeling just how easily he took it you almost laughed.
“You take all the fun out of prepping you..”
“Shut up and fuck me!”
His desperate, panting tone was enough for you to cave, even as he glared back at you. It took you a second to get out of your clothes, well really just your pants, belt, and boxers, but it still took longer than Jason would have ever liked, again, bratty pillow princess of the century.
By the time you let your cock prod against his hole, he'd grabbed a pillow and rested it under his head, still turning to face you as you slowly pushed in. His resolve didn't last long, broken by a long moan as the head of your cock slipped into his hole, already about to thrust a hole into the bed sheets.
You grabbed his hips, pressing them hard into the bed, he stopped moving, an undeniable whimper coming from him.
You pressed further, barely even half way in and you could feel him squeezing around you, you pressed down until your hips were pressed together.
He panted and moaned, his body flexing, then relaxing. You waited for him to give you a sign that he was okay, and when he did you waited more, just to tease him. He realized this a couple of seconds later, dropping his head into the pillow with a frustrated groan, you're surprised he didn't turn around and cuss you out at that exact moment.
Even though you probably shouldn't have, you pulled out slow, and slammed back into him with more force than you meant to, the bed dipped beneath you both and Jason let put a wild moan. You probably should have gone slow with him, made him cum over and over again before filling him yourself, but you didn't, you had a bit of an epiphany while you had Jason fully wrapped around your cock. You were really, really fucking horny. With someone as pretty as Jason it was always so tempting to take him about the slow way, teasing, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of him, but with some that felt as good as Jason does, it's pretty easy to let that idea fly out the window in turn of pounding him into the mattress.
So you did.
Watching him claw and bite at the pillow beneath him in an attempt to bring some stability back. His whole body getting forced forward with every thrust.
Loud, almost pained, moans and the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. Even with the pillow shoved into his mouth he was still impossibly loud. You could feel just how warm he’d gotten, his skin was hot and sweaty, and in your mind, you'd hardly even done anything to him yet.
Little tears prickled in his eyes, he squeezed them closed tightly. Taking your cock wasn't anything new to him but fuck, sometimes you could be rough. Not that he didn't enjoy it, no, if he had less pride he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs how good it felt.
He could already tell where bruises were going to form, he'd have burning red hand prints on his waist for sure, and an odd one on his ass and inner thighs, hickies and smaller bruises would litter practically every surface his body offered for sure.
Leaning down, you thrust hitting deeper and deeper, you kissed along his shoulders and back, trying to soothe at least a little of the hurt you were causing. You didn't but it felt nice anyways.
Jason's vision went a little spotty when he came again, you never stopped fucking him and he really didn't want you to. His cum soaked into the sheets beneath him, he could feel the sticky sheets cling to his stomach.
You followed soon after, shooting cum deep inside of him, just like he wanted. He whimpered quietly at the feeling, he could still feel you fucking him with your softened cock, trusting much slower, much to his dismay. He knew you were just waiting to get hard again but he really didn't like waiting.
It didn't take long for you to get hard again, you were still fully inside your beautiful boyfriend's beautiful ass so it definitely wasn't difficult. You continued pounding into him like nothing happened, he didn't say anything either, other than incoherent word between moans. Even though he didn't have to wait long, he missed you fucking him already.
You slammed into him hard and he went cross-eyed for a moment, letting his moans flow freely, louder and more satisfied than before.
“Right there-” he panted, “again, please-”
You couldn't deny him, not when he begged like that, you angled you hips so you'd slam against that spot again and again until he was staining the sheets for a second, then third time.
He made it too easy to want to fuck him.
His body was nearly limp by his fourth orgasm, you pulled out, he let out a little noise, unable to do much about it. You flipped him onto his back, seeing the mess covering his cock and stomach, his eyes tracked your every move, but not many where made, you ran your hands down his thighs just like you'd found before, then shoved your cock back into his mess of a hole.
You chased your own pleasure, dragging an exhausted Jason along with you for the ride. His hands gripped onto you, pulling you down and holding you tight, letting his airy moans fill your ears.
You came soon after, with him clawing at your back and clinging to you like a damn khola. You stayed inside him for a long moment, waiting for him to remember that he had to let you go.
When he did, you leaned back, watching yourself pull out of him, your cock covered in cum and lube. Cum dripped out of his hole rapidly, a puddle forming and growing on the bed, you laughed, still a bit winded.
“Hey, looks like you got your wish, these sheets are defiantly ruined.”
He laughed tiredly before pulling you back down into his arms.
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alonetimelover · 1 year
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Love on BRITs Awards
Pairings: Harry Styles x Slavic!fem!reader
Summary: After years of being together, six months of being engaged YN and Harry are letting people know they're in love - it just happens to be BRITs 2023 award show.
Warnings: swearing, little Slavic stereotype, some sexual tension (Harry's horny) - nothing explicit, alcohol use
Word count: ~7,2k
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“My love, my flower, my baby, my my my! I am home!” 
YN could argue with a lot of people on what is the best sound at six a.m. but knew she would win. What’s better than your loving fiancé coming home after a month apart? Even not being a morning person herself, YN smiled in the pillow (Harry’s pillow that she always slept on whenever he was away) only waiting for Harry to jump on the bed right next to her. 
“You know, one would think after a month apart you’d be waitin’ for me near the front door,” he whispered in her ear, after gently laying down (surprisingly) on his side of bed, and kissing her cheek over and over. 
“One would think after years of knowing me, you’d be aware of me loving our bed very, very much,” she whispered, not being able to hold her smile back. “Especially in the morning, when it’s all just for me.”
“You tease!” Harry laughed while starting to tickle YN wherever she was the most ticklish, earning one of the most beautiful sounds he could think of, her laugh. “Liar, saying you didn’t miss me one bit!”
“Okay, okay! Stop, baby! Hey, stop, please!” 
“Tell me you love me more.” He stopped ticking her. Now on top of her, with her hands pinned above her head with his left hand and the right one on her hip, daring to tickle again. Curls falling onto his forehead, too short to be held back by their (yes, they shared it) butterfly hair clip. 
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He challenged.
“I love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Very, very much.” Her voice an octave lower than usual, almost tempting.
And when his grip on her hands loosened she added, “almost as much as our bed.” But Harry was too late to catch on, she was already out of bed and running down the hall, laughing like crazy. With a sigh, he got up and ran after her, passing all the decorations she had been preparing for the whole night, and not catching them. Only thing he was focused on was her. 
He loved all of their banter every single time it had taken place. Didn’t matter if it was too silly or too childish like a lot of people would say, he adored every single one of them. 
“Stop right where you are.” He pointed a finger at her, after running around the whole house and finally stopping in the dining room.
“Because?” She asked with her eyebrows raised, stopping in her tracks, a smirk on her beautiful face.
“Because.”
He didn’t need to say more. The way he was looking at her, eyes big, almost sparkling. He was admiring her in a baggy shirt, his or hers, he couldn’t say anymore. They got used to sharing their clothes with each other early in the relationship. She was standing right beside the dining table, he only now noticed, was set with a variety of his favourite breakfast food. Flowers from their garden in the big glass vase. A bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket full of ice. And three balloons in the shape of Grammy awards flowing above the chairs. 
“My love -” he tried speaking, but words died in his mouth. 
“No need to say anything,” she calmed him immediately, making her way towards him. “I am so proud of you,” YN said, standing right in front of Harry. “You are the most delicate and sensible person I’ve ever met. Your work is an epiphany, an ode to all people that inspired you, and a gorgeous testament of your feelings. I am so proud of you, Harry. You did it.” 
Speechless. He wanted to thank her, scream to the world about how much he thanked her, and how without her there would be no Harry’s House, no Harry Styles some people admired. Without her there was no Harry. But the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation for her overtook his whole body. He loved her so much.
“Can I get a kiss from my amazing fiancé?” She asked after a few minutes of silent embrace, head on his chest, hands caressing his back. 
And when no words left his lips, and one hand reached for her chin, she knew the answer. The way he held and kissed her said more than enough. ‘I missed you’. ‘I love you.’ ‘Thank you.’
“Take me to bed?”
“What about this breakfast?” he gestured towards the full table. 
“You want to eat breakfast or let me show you how much I love you and how proud I am of you?”
“Considering that you prepared breakfast at five in the morning is saying all kinds of love,” Harry whispered to her lips, not wanting to part. 
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
And then he took her to bed, just like she asked. He found his voice and could thank her in all the best ways he knew, she’d appreciate. 
~~~~~~
11.02.2023
“Nervous?”
“Not really, no. Last time was a total blast. They have an unhealthy amount of booze available, stress reliefs,” Harry responded to his fiancee, smiling at her.
They both were getting ready to attend BRIT Awards in London - their first official event as an engaged pair, couple even. People speculated about them for years, few photos taken here and there, some slip ups of Harry’s in interviews and just rumours that gossip magazines just loved to spread. Years after dating and no more than six months of being engaged, they felt ready. 
They were aware of the hate they’d get. There was no way everyone would be happy. The World was a cruel place, and being in the public eye didn’t help feeling secure. YN not being famous, not being from an english-spoken country, not being from the overall rich family, nor having a job that payed her in millions were things that people would analyse. Her accent would be a problem for them, her loud laughter, her dress she chose to wear tonight, the statement she wanted to present with herself. But she felt ready. Harry was next to her and they knew whoever hated them, her, wasn’t Harry’s fan. 
“You’re not holding your alcohol well, baby. Need to be careful with it, or you gonna crawl to the stage to accept all those awards,” she laughed, smoothing his suit jacket. 
“Mhmmm, I do not have your alcohol tolerance. Those Slavic genes are helpful, aren’t they?”
“I could smack you really hard for that stereotypical remark, you know that?”
“Absolutely. I would let you, but -”
“...but it’s true in this case. I hate when those stereotypes are.”
“You know another stereotype about Slavic people?” he smiled cheekily at her, brushing her hair behind her ears. He wanted to see her whole face, glowing. 
“Be careful.” She warned him, but knowing that he wouldn’t say anything hurtful or insensitive.
“Yeah, Slavic women have the most beautiful eyes on the planet.”
Trying to cover her blushing and amazement of his flirting even after all those years together, she asked “how many Slavic women have you seen in your life, hmm?”
“Quite a few, I’d say. I played in a lot of European countries where Slavic people live, baby. I saw your mum and grandma. But most importantly, I see your eyes.” He stopped to just stare into them, waiting for the right words to come. “No word to describe them. First thing about you that I fell in love with.”
Flirt. Absolute flirt, thought YN, leaning to kiss his smirk away. 
“You’re too good at this,” she whispered after pulling away from his lips.
“What? Honesty?”
Shaking her head with a laugh, she moved away from Harry. There could be no foundation that could cover her blush. And applying more of it would just look too unnatural. There was no place for mistakes on her part. She did one and it was going to be a very different story. 
“When are you going to dress up? Harry said when he comes over, we should be already dressed. He wants to just do some touch ups,” Harry, her Harry, asked while following her to the bathroom, where she was preheating the hair straightener. 
“I need help with buttons, it has a lower back and -” 
“Lower back you say?”
Deciding to play along with him, she added, “yeah, and the cleavage is deep. Oh, and also it’s see through. Lots of lace, too.” She smirked at the end, seeing how enamoured Harry was, almost drooling. 
After no words were spoken by him, he ran in the direction of their shared closet, with YN rapidly leaving her comb and following him.
“Don’t look into the garment bag! Harry!” She screamed, wanting to surprise him with the dress she had spent weeks choosing with Harry Lambert. 
Slipping towards the bag, Harry caught himself before falling down flat on his face. With a hand on his heart, he tried to slow its beating. 
“That was a close one.”
“That was a sign not to do it. No peeking inside, Harry. ”
“Just a little one,” he pouted, eyes big. 
“No way. It’s a surprise.”
“If all you said about the dress is true, I’m not going to make it to the show. We won’t make it,” Harry stalked towards her. “Little look inside, two seconds.” He held his two fingers up. “Promise, scout’s honour.” He stole a little kiss from her.
“Bullshit, you weren’t a Scout.” She needed to stop, accepting yet another kiss from her fiance. “It doesn’t count.” 
“What if I -”
The doorbell interrupted his persuasion tactics, making him sigh. “You’re lucky. What I wanted to say would make you open this bag within seconds.”
“Yeah?” She challenged, knowing well it would be true, if he’d said it like that. 
“Mhm.” 
And with one last long kiss to her lips, Harry left to open the door for his overexcited friends. 
~~~~
YN was questioning their decision to officially appear together on that award show. Nerves were slowly eating her away, making her palms sweaty, fingers trembling. The realisation of what was to come kindly emerged early enough for her to alternatively chicken out. She wasn’t as ready as she had thought so. The dress Harry L. helped her put on, now embracing her body perfectly was an imminent sign of reality she was about to endure. 
“He’s going to faint, YNN. There’s no way he'll be able to contain himself even with us in the room,” Harry said, smirking, smoothing any wrinkles that his careful eye could catch. 
“Stop it.” YN laughed dryly. “He needs to. We have, what? Twenty minutes till the car is here to take us to the venue?” 
“Something like that. But really, YN. You look absolutely breathtaking. The makeup, hair, this dress? If I say so myself you look like you have been taken out of the most beautiful painting.”
“What’s going on with you all buttering me up, hmm? Is it Harry’s request?” 
Lambert sighed, “you need to believe when people appreciate your beauty, inside and outside.” He bettered the front of the dress, laying her necklace right in the middle of her chest. “Absolutely gorgeous, ready to stun anyone in front of you,” he said, now looking into her eyes. Encouraging smile on his face. 
She knew to love herself. She taught herself that after years of being overshadowed by lots of people around her. She learned her worth and decided to nurture it. And it only got better when she met Harry. The way he appreciated her, always telling how beautiful she looked, how smart she was, how funny she was. Her confidence only skyrocketed from that moment. 
Now, however, the nerves took over. Little YN, from her small town, was looking at her from the mirror. Too big of a dress on her body, tangled hair and dirty knees from kneeling on the ground. But her eyes looking in awe back at her older form. If there was someone she was going to overcome this feeling for, it was her younger self. 
“Ready to see your man?” Harry asked with heels in his hand. “He’s fidgeting in the living room.”
“I won’t be more ready, so the best moment is now.”
She put on her classic black Louboutin heels and carefully, with help of Harry L. made her way down the stairs to the living room. The chatter that was heard from upstairs suddenly died, when the clicking of the heels got noticed by her Harry. His eyes shot from his drink, mouth already half open, after taking a look at her legs. Then he could see her whole but wasn’t sure if he actually did till she was standing in front of him. 
“You can close your mouth, mate,” said Jeff, laughing at his best friend. 
“Shut up,” answered Harry, glancing at him for a split second. “Get out, please.” He added the last word after being gently hit in the chest by YN. 
“Just remember you have ten minutes tops.”
When everyone left the room, Harry hid his face in his hands, smiling widely. “Oh my God. Is it possible to fall in love all over?”
“I’m asking myself the same question every day,” YN whispered back, trying to see his face. “Let me see you, please.” 
“I’m going to cry,” he laughed. “Oh God, really. I’m gonna cry, baby.”
“What are you gonna do when you see me walking down the aisle?” 
“Don’t. That’s going to be very embarrassing. Gemma already knows to be ready with ten packets of tissues,” Harry stated with a smile, showing his flushed face. 
“Hi.”
“Hi. You - you look absolutely perfect. Woah, really. I have no words to describe how astonishingly beautiful you look. Spin around, let me take a good look at you, baby.” 
YN spinned slowly, a dress flowing around her legs, showing even more of them. The lace complimenting her body in the best ways, adoring her features. The heavy necklace that he could recognise as an engagement gift from his mother to YN, and matching earrings from his sister. Seeing it he could only ask himself: how was it possible to love someone as much as he did YN? 
“What d’you think? It’s not too revealing, is it?”
“The most important thing is, do you feel comfortable? Is it too revealing to you?”
“I don’t think so. I wear that nude underwear so as not to accidentally flash anyone. Dress is very comfortable, the lace is actually so soft, look.” YN took his hand in hers and placed it on her waist. “See?”
With a hand on her waist, and a thumb daring its way a little higher, he smiled at her lovingly, “feels very nice, baby. Show me those shoes, now. I only got a glimpse when you were walking down the stairs.”
“I’m gonna fall over trying to show them,” she laughed, knowing that those tiny little heels were going to be the death of her. The balance they required was more than what she was used to. 
“Okay, here.” And just like that Harry fell to his knees, not caring about the one of a kind suit he was wearing. “Place your foot on my thigh, baby, and hold onto my shoulders, yeah?”
After nodding her head in agreement, YN gently placed her left heel on Harry’s thigh. Right hand holding his shoulder, slightly leaning forward. Harry moved the dress out of the way, above her knees, and took a good look at those black shoes that were going to absolutely make him feral. 
“Well,” he started, “it’s - they’re very, very nice.” His hand was now massaging YN’s calf. 
“And quite comfy for being 12 centimetres,” YN said excitedly, not catching on Harry’s mood change. 
“Mhmm, you know what?” He was now looking up at her, trying really hard to focus. “Maybe we could -”
“It’s an open living room for fuck’s sake, guys! Have some decency!” Yelled Jeff after having walked on rather compromised position YN and Harry were in. 
YN tried to put her foot down on the floor, but Harry was still holding it. “Harry, we’re gonna be late. Let’s move.”
“Listen to your girl, man. People are waiting for you two.”
Harry eventually helped YN balance herself again on two legs and fixed the dress for her. He dusted his knees after having earned a remark from Jeff about ‘everybody knowing you were on your knees for her before the carpet’. Following YN out of the house, passing Jeff he just whispered ‘cockblock’ and caught up with his date. 
There was no turning back. 
~~~~
“Are there any interviews on the carpet or just photos?” 
“Just photos, if they changed the schedule then we just move past them. I’ll send an apology to them, saying we weren’t prepared for them,” Harry answered his fiancee, doing circles on her hand that he was holding. “I’ll be with you for the whole time, yeah? And if you changed your mind, and you don’t wanna take those photos, then it’s okay. You’ll just be with Jeff waiting for me at the end of the carpet.”
“No, I - I promised you to do it. I’m going to.”
“Screw it. If you aren’t 100% sure then don’t. Don’t make yourself do it. I won’t love you less, I won’t be disappointed. I want you to be comfortable and ready. Okay?” 
YN nodded her head, a tiny smile on her lips, “I’m ready, as long as you’re with me.”
“Always, baby. Always.” He kissed her hands and they fell into a light conversation with the rest of the people in the SUV. 
The venue was crazy. There were people running around, shouting at each other trying to communicate over the loud screams of fans and paparazzi. It was a mayhem, YN had never seen anything like it in comparison to Harry being so used to it, it didn’t make him flinch. 
Red carpet just in front of her, with yet another star walking flawlessly on it, having taken photos of them. YN already spotted Lizzo, Lewis Capaldi and girls from Wet Leg sporting their newest, extravagant looks. Now it all was real, she was there ready to commit one of the biggest steps in her life. 
“You’re up after Leigh-Anne, love birds. About 30 seconds," Jeff informed them, making his way to the other side of the carpet, where the ‘finishing line’ - as YN called it - was. 
“Okay, three deep breaths, baby,” Harry whispered to YN’s ear, not wanting to draw any more attention to them. “Follow my lead, yeah?”
“Always.” 
Looking into each other’s eyes, they did the exercise Harry’s therapist taught him years ago. Breathe in for five seconds, hold it for three, exhale for seven. Repeat three times and your blood flow is lower, heart beating less rapid and you’re actually calmer. It always worked on him, some times better than the others. 
“Let’s go,” Harry told her, after seeing her calming down enough to deal with all those people behind him. 
“Kiss?” 
He smiled and pecked her lips lovingly and while holding her hand moved to the centre of the chaos. 
If those people were loud before, YN wouldn’t be able to describe how they were when together with Harry she stepped on that carpet. 
‘Harry Styles, who is your date?’
‘Who is a pretty lady?’
‘Give me a smile honey!’
‘Change the pose!’
‘Over the shoulder, lady!’
‘Move on, please!’
Eyes were hurting YN from looking at all those flashes. The ringing in her ears from all the shouts, making her uncomfortable. Harry with a hand on her waist was doing a good job and reminding her she wasn’t alone, he was just next to her. Hand on her waist, caressing the skin right above it with his thumb. 
“You’re doing great, baby.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, earning even more screams and flashes. “I love you.” 
YN turned her head towards him, “I love you, thank you.” 
Oh, how much she wanted to kiss him. How much she wanted to just show him how much she appreciated his support right now. But they agreed to limit the PDA to a minimum, at least on the red carpet. There was going to be enough spotlight on them for appearing together. 
But Harry had different plans. 
“I’m gonna kiss you.”
And he did. It didn’t last more than three seconds but photographers around them behaved like it was a full on hour lasting make out session in the middle of the award show. Just a quick loving kiss, saying more than anybody else than them wouldn’t understand. 
“Take some alone photos,” she said after changing their poses two times. “You’re the star.” 
Not wanting to let her go, Harry was holding her hand to the last moment it was possible for them to reach each other. His eyes following after her, making sure she made it safely to Jeff without any troubles on the way. Those pictures with a lovesick look in his eyes would break the internet, together with the ones of them together. 
“What an armageddon you two caused out there. I knew it would be huge but woah,” exclaimed Jeff after being joined by the couple, Harry having finished his solo photos and immediately being next to YN. 
“My ears are ringing and my eyes are all dry. How can you do it so often?” YN asked Harry, fighting the urge to just bury her eyes in her palms. 
“Jeff, give me YN’s bag.” Harry turned to his manager, getting the little black bag. “I packed you some eye drops, baby. They do wonders. Let me,” he said smoothly, moving her head so she was looking up. “Don’t blink.”
He put drops into both of her eyes slowly, wiping away the ones that run down her cheeks carefully not to damage her makeup. Looking into her eyes, he couldn’t help himself but smile widely. 
“Thank you for being here with me.”
“Thank you for making me feel comfortable.”
At the table that one kind lady - Maria - had shown them to, YN could finally take off her shoes. As comfortable as they were, having not practised enough walking in them, YN could already feel the pain she would have the next morning. Massaging her left foot quietly, not wanting to draw attention to what she was doing, she tried not to lean too low under the table. 
“What are you doin’, baby?” Harry laughed at his fiancee. 
“My feet are starting to ache and it’s only been two hours of wearing them,” YN pouted, putting the shoes back on after being shamelessly caught in the act. 
“Didn’t you say they were comfortable?”
Harry’s hand already reached down to massage her foot. 
“They were, when I was wearing them for ten minutes. And stop, someone’s gonna look and have a wrong idea about what you’re doin’ under the table.” YN swatted his hand away, earring a scoff from Harry. She wasn’t the one to refuse the massage. 
“You want to switch?”
“My heels for your boots?”
“Yeah, I think I can manage them.” He took a quick look at the suddenly very high heels. “My legs might not look as good as yours but, who knows?” He smirked at the end, remembering their last interaction at home. 
“Not happening. I can just have them under the table, I’m not going to move from here anyway, so it’s all good.”
“You sure? I can make Jeff find you something to change,” Harry said, already turning to his friend. 
“Yes, I’m sure. Look at me -” she waited for him to face her, “ - thank you. I love you.”
“Mhm, I love you.” 
Even though they kissed for the nth time that day it still felt special. Even though it might have been the billionth time they did during their relationship, nothing changed. Same love and appreciation were exchanged. 
“Alright, mate. Move on, you need to change and open the show. Harry’s waiting for you in the dressing room,” said Jeff, patting Harry’s back, catching his attention. 
With one last kiss and questioning if she was going to be okay by herself (not really, she had Kid and Tyler next to her) Harry ran off backstage to prepare as quickly as possible. He had about ten minutes to be back out there and open the BRITs.
YN sipped on her juice waiting for Harry till starting drinking  something stronger. She was admiring the whole arena, looking at fans that were impatiently waiting for their favourite artist to take over the stage. All of the celebrities were sitting at their designed tables, looking much more collected than YN. But who she was kidding, they were in their element. She was very much out of her comfort zone. 
“YN?” 
She heard from behind her, a lovely voice that could only belong to one person. 
“Lizzo, uhm - hi!” YN responded, standing up from her chair and turning to properly greet her fiance’s friend.
“That man wasn’t lying when he said you’re the prettiest woman on earth, girl. Let me give you a hug!”
YN had never met Lizzo before, her relationship with Harry being very private but also them only talking about it with their families and closest friends. She didn’t know Harry said anything about her to Lizzo but wasn’t mad. She seemed like a lovely person and she was according to all the stories that she shared with Harry. 
“He slipped about you both after the Grammys. I don’t know how he hid you so well for years,” Lizzo whispered to YN’s ear while still hugging her closely. 
“Believe it, we weren’t as careful as you may think.” YN pulled away from Lizzo, but still stood close to her, feeling very comfortable.
“Good for you. Let me tell you something,” Lizzo laughed. “You’re stealing the show looking like this.”
“Says you! You look gorgeous! Can’t wait for your performance, I’ll be up and dancing.”
Slowly moving away to her table, Lizzo shouted pointing a finger at YN, “you better!” 
“Please, everyone, move to your assigned places. First performance is to start in two minutes, together with the broadcast. Enjoy your evening.” 
YN sat back down, abruptly feeling nervous. She knew Harry would put out his best, but after the Grammys sound problems and Harry’s frustration about it, she feared he might have got that too deep in his head. He was in his element while on stage but that inevitable twinge made her pick on her cuticles. 
“O2 arena, please welcome Harry Styles!” 
There he was, standing in that red jacket and black trousers, smirking to himself. No worry visible on his face or in his body language. He was home. 
YN at the same moment as Kid, Tyler and Jeff got up and started to sway to the music, singing loudly. She was going to have some fun tonight. 
“BRIT awards sing it out!” Shouted Harry pointing the mic in the air. His eyes were trying to find his fiancée, just to check if she was okay. 
YN and Kid, hugging, screamed the words at Harry, starting to dance around each other, copying Harry’s movements, laughing from time to time. If she was going to enjoy the night, she needed to bury the fear of people judging her. They were going to do it no matter what. 
Harry was running on stage, just like on his concerts, feeling the love that was flowing out of the crowd. It was feeding his ego, artistic ego, and YN loved that for him. The confidence he clothed looked damn good on him. 
“Thank you, BRITs!” He screamed in the microphone, bowed down and thanked a few more times, grin on his face. 
“He’s gonna be back in a minute. He just needs to change,” Jeff informed YN after they all sat down. 
“Again? How many clothes does he have for tonight?”
“Red carpet one, performance, accepting awards, later for photos with the awards and probably one for the after party. So about five. You didn't know?”
“He showed me just the two he already wore, bastard,” she giggled at the end. 
“Who’s a bastard?” 
YN snapped her head so quickly to where she heard her favourite voice from. There he stood in a green suit, silver silk shirt that was mostly unbuttoned that buttoned up and that smug look saying ‘I know it was me’. The cross necklace was diggling on his chest, making YN stop her eyes right there. 
“Eyes up here, my love.”
“I’m doing what you’re doing. We’re even.” YN smirked. She caught Harry countless times looking incredibly not-so-careful at her chest and legs tonight. “I’m appreciating the view, just for your information.”
“I do too.”
Harry bent over to place a quick kiss on her lips, “hello again.”
“You did great on stage. We danced for the whole song with Kid,” she whispered to his lips, glancing into his eyes. 
“Thank you. How did you get him to move his ass?”
“Not cool man!” Kid scolded Harry from YN’s right. 
“He’s a good dancer.”
“Sure. I saw you both. You looked great. Gonna dance with me tonight?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows, now sitting next to her on his designed chair. 
“I promised Lizzo to dance during her whole performance. She said that I’m the prettiest girl in the world. Apparently your words, huh?” YN smirked, looking at Harry’s lightly flushed face. 
“I might have said that,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. We didn’t consult on that.”
“It’s okay,” she calmed him, reassuringly squeezing his hands. “She is very lovely, just like you said she’d be. I can’t wait for her performance.”
The next performances of Wet Leg and Lewis Capaldi they both sat through and sang along, Only when the host introduced Lizzo, YN shot up from her chair, cheering for her new friend. Before meeting her YN was a big fan of her music but also her as a person. 
“In case nobody told you today, you’re special!” YN sang to Harry, who got up right after her ready to dance. 
“In case nobody made you believe, you’re special!” he sang back, stunning YN. 
“You know the words?”
“Of course I do!” 
YN moved a little away from their table to more open space, doing a ‘come here’ movement with her finger towards Harry, smirk on her beautiful face. Harry cupped her hands in his, just looking at her dancing, swaying perfectly to the music, feeling it with her whole body. 
Just when Lizzo hit the second verse, he spinned her to his chest, embracing her. Right hand on her lower back, left one holding her right. 
“Feeling bold?”
“You’re special,” Harry just sang to her, not feeling like answering such an easy question. He’d been and was going to be bold the whole evening. 
When the melody changed to 2 be loved, YN moved in front of Harry, pointing one finger in the air, screaming the lyrics. For a split second she wanted to mimic Lizzo’s amazing dancers but remembered the dress she was wearing. Harry put hands on her waist, singing right into her ear. 
Soon the next song started and Lizzo started walking towards the side of the stage where YN and Harry were dancing. 
“I see you, YN!” She shouted pointing a finger at the woman, smiling widely. “Get it, Harry!” 
YN laughed out loud, throwing her head on Harry’s shoulder who was laughing as well.
“She’s fucking amazing!” 
~~~~
“Here are the nominees for Best POP/R&B Artist!” announced Mo and the video played, displaying all of the people. 
YN squeezed Harry’s hand, reminding him she was right next to him, no matter what was going to be said next. Salma Hayek walked on stage, giving YN a weird feeling of certainty. 
“And the winner of the POP/R&B act is the one and only,” Salma deadpanned with a smirk. “Harry Styles.”
In the middle of taking their fifth shots of the night, YN and Harry smiled into the caulks. Putting them down Harry grinned and screamed ‘that’s right!’ giving high fives to people all over their table. Then he turned towards YN hiding in her neck. 
“Be right back,” he promised, kissing her neck quickly. 
The way to the stage was a bumpy ride because of all the people that wanted to congratulate him. When he finally made it, bowed towards Salma Hayek in appreciation and looked at the screens that were showing him. 
“Uhhh, thank you so so much for this. Uhm… first of all thank you,” he paused letting people scream for him as much as they wanted. “Uhh, first of all I know it’s a fan voted award, so to all my fans who voted - thank you, thank you, thank you so so much. I have so many wonderful memories at the BRITs, with these ones being very special to me.” He stole a quick glance towards YN that was standing up amongst all seated people, with hands clasped together near her face. Smile so big adoring her features.
“So thank you for adding to the memories from this night. It is so good to be home. Thank you so so much. Thank you.” And just like that he was off the stage, trying to move as quickly as possible to YN and kiss her properly. 
YN didn’t sit down yet, waiting for him to return and give him the biggest hug of his life. She was so proud of him. 
“One down!” Jeff exclaimed when Harry finally made it back. 
“Don’t jinx it!! Harry responded, not even giving Jeff a look, his eyes glued to his fiancee. 
“Celebratory shot?” he asked her, putting the BRIT award on the table. 
“One moment.” She took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. “I’m so so proud of you, my love. You deserve it so much,” YN whispered in his ear. 
“Thank you, baby. We wouldn’t be here without you, my inspiration.” 
Harry leaned down, capturing her lips in his, not caring if any cameras were pointed at them. The alcohol in his system was making him bolder, evoking YN’s words in his mind ‘you’re not holding your alcohol well’. Of course she was right. She knew him better than anyone. 
They cheered together for Wet Leg when they accepted the Best New Artist award. And then drank even more shots. They were absolutely going to get wasted. Harry was for sure. 
“Harry Styles!” screamed Lucien announcing British Artist Of The Year. 
Harry put his head down, chuckling to himself. 
“You did it again, baby!” YN said to him, while leaning towards his face. 
“Another.” He smirked at YN, making her laugh even more. He kissed her lips swiftly and ran on stage once more. 
“Uhm, thank you again. I wanna start by being a little more personal than usual. I wanna thank my family for being the most supportive, understanding, patient, loving family I could ever ask for. I wanna thank my mum for signing me for X-Factor without telling me. I wanna thank Niall, Louis, Liam and Zayn, I wouldn’t be without you here either.” He needed to pause because the scream that those four names caused were out of this world.  
“Thank you so much. My fiancée, who’s here with me, I -” 
If the noise in the O2 arena could get any louder, it was now. 
“I wouldn’t be on this stage, if not because of you, thank you. I am really, really grateful of this and am very aware of my privilege up here tonight, so this award is for Rina, Charlie, Florence, Mabel and Becky. Thank you so much!” He finished his speech, moving on backstage. 
~~~~
“Man, you’re wasted,” Jeff said to Harry after God knows how many shots he had had. 
“You didn’t see me wasted. Baby, remember me on your Grandfather��s name day? That was drunk, I couldn’t move the next morning,” Harry laughed, throwing his arm over YN’s shoulders, pulling her closer. 
They’d already moved their chairs, so they were touching their legs, but it wasn’t enough. Harry needed her as close as possible. 
“It wasn’t your best moment, I admit. But grandpa had a field day.”
“How was he sober after all day drinking?”
“It wasn’t as much as you think, you’re a lightweight, baby. Compared to him, you’re extremely inexperienced in this field.”
“True.”
“But you, YN, you’re doing just fine,” Kid joined the conversation. 
“Slavic girl!” Harry shouted, earning a slap to his thigh from YN. “Ow!”
“Told you to be careful with words around this topic,” she scolded him playfully, understanding exactly what he had meant. “Good genes, let’s say.”
Harry wanted to say more, but Shania Twain walking on stage made him silent. 
“Song Of The Year BRIT award goes to… Harry Styles ‘As It Was’.”
“Go there instead of me,” Harry said to YN. 
“Shut up.” She smiled, hugging him. “It’s your night, love.”
“Hello,” Harry started while on stage for the third time. “This album and song was the most fun I ever had making music. Uh, I wanna thank lots of people, Rob, Tom and Tyler. YN. Thank you to anyone who listened and,” he paused searching for someone in the crowd, YN already knowing what was to come. “Thank you, Lewis,” he faced Lewis Capaldi, already walking from the stage towards his Scottish friend. 
“What is he doing?” Jeff asked into the void. 
“He’s gonna kiss Lewis.”
Jeff opened his mouth in disbelief but soonly, closed it, nodding his head, “it sounds like something he’d do after drinking. You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be? He’d planned it for hours, wanted to thank Lewis for support and congratulate on the album. He sent it to Harry and we listened to it earlier this week. The Grammys are waiting for that man,” YN answered with a smile. Somewhere in the background Harry was pecking Lewis’ lips. 
“You never cease to amaze me.” He laughed, sipping on his colourful drink.
Before YN could respond in any way, Harry swept her from her feet, spinning them around. 
“Lewis says ‘thank you for listening to the album’ and says he’s gonna kiss you next. He’s collecting them like - what do people on the internet say? Like stones?”
“Infinity stones, yeah. Close enough, Harry. Show me the way,” YN challenged him, earning a tight squeeze to her waist. 
“Nope. My kisses.” He leaned towards her, but she pulled away. 
“You’re gonna kiss me right after kissing another man?”
“Anyone got a napkin?” He turned to the table. 
~~~~
“Baby, look! Stanley Tucci!” Harry exclaimed looking at the stage. 
Album Of The Year was the last award for tonight’s BRITs but also the last one that Harry was nominated for. Deep down YN hoped for it to be four out of four for Harry. It would be a confidence boost after the Grammy awards and all the hate people unnecessarily pour on him for other people’s decisions. She just wanted to see him happy. 
“And the winner is - Harry Styles!” 
Harry screamed, smashing his fists on the table in celebration. YN stood up, waiting to congratulate her fiance for the absolute win he gathered tonight. 
“I’m so proud of you!” 
“I love you so much. Gimme a kiss, I’m gonna hug Stanley Tucci and tell him I also love him,” he mumbled in her chest. He lifted his head enough to smash their lips together, taking much longer than sober Harry would. But it was his night, he was going to flood his fiancee in kisses even if the whole of the UK was watching him. What vodka could do to the person was beyond him. 
“There’s literally no one I love more in the World than Stanley Tucci!” Was the way Harry started his acceptance speech, making everybody laugh. “Wait, besides my beautiful fiancée, YN. I love you, baby, as much as Stanley Tucci, I promise!” He looked at YN, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. 
“Thank you very much. This - uh - this night has been really really special to me and I’ll never forget it. Thank you so much for the welcome home, I appreciate it so much. There’s no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m so proud to be a British artist out there, celebrating British music. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m gonna celebrate now with my lovely fiancée. Have a good night!” 
YN after holding up pretty strongly for the whole night, now was in tears. Experiencing Harry’s success with him, being right next to him was so special and magical that tears sprang to her eyes, slowly making their way down her cheeks. If anyone asked her what she felt at the moment, she wouldn’t be able to pick suitable words. Nothing could explain her absolute pride, love, adoration and respect. 
“I have invitations to the Box, you both going?” Jeff interrupted YN’s crying session while admiring her fiance, giggling with Stanley Tucci. 
“Harry’s probably gonna sprint there,” she laughed, knowing him well enough. “For sure for a little while, don’t know how long he can last.” 
“I wouldn’t bet my money on it.”
“My love! Stanley Tucci said he loved me too!” Harry yelled, while strolling towards their table. “And you too. He said you’re a very beautiful young woman. I think he’s jealous of me. What do you say?”
“I say you are absolutely wasted.”
“Nah, I can handle more shots. Let’s do another round!” he moved to pour more vodka into their glasses. “Wait, did you see? I won the fourth one!” he expressed, showing her yet another BRIT award. 
“I saw it. I’m very proud of you. And I love you, too.”
“Thank you!” The smile on his face couldn’t get any bigger. “Can we celebrate now?”
“What have we been doing for the last four hours?”
“I mean -” Harry stood chest to chest with YN, smirking, suddenly looking all sobered up. “I mean I want to -” His face now next to her right ear whispering every dirty thought he had about her during those last four hours. “And then I would run you a bath with bubbles and - and that lavender oil, lit the candles, wash your back and hair. Then I’d give you a massage in bed and -” 
YN widened her eyes at all the naughty words Harry was spilling in her ear, his hand doing little circles on her lower back, daring its way even lower. Heat shot through her body, frustration taking over all other emotions. 
“So I think four for every award would be perfect, hmm? What do you think?” He took a brief look at her flushed face, feeling proud of himself. “And then I’d help you after all this, read you some Bronte and maybe I’d do the thing you like so much.”
“Thee thing?”
“Exactly that one. So, what do you say? You want to go home?”
Not trusting her speech to come out clear, YN nodded her head timidly. 
“Words, baby?” Harry licked his lips, stroking her cheek.
“Yes. Wanna go home.”
1K notes · View notes
milaeth · 9 months
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୨୧┊𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. ( lando norris )
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ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two ( coming soon )
✧.* pairings ─ lando norris x fem! football player! reader
✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff
✧.* summary ─ in which you're a football player and after winning the champions league with your team, a secret admirer named "L" sends you flowers. everyone thinks it's your friend Lance, but what if it's someone else? perhaps someone who’s also a formula one driver and is known for being a big fan of yours...
✧.* face claim ─ jana fernández (she’s obv around the same age as lando in this)
✧.* warnings ─ none
✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ so sorry for the wait, i had to take a little break, but i’m back now! btw i’ve had this in my drafts for literal months, but i finally decided to post it so enjoy :)
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yourusername
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liked by lance_stroll, fcbfemeni and 753,965 others
yourusername We rocked the semi finals, now it’s time for the actual one! We can do this!!🔥
tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague
view all 375 comments . . .
user1604 massive win! some sick tackles made by you today, wow. so proud of you guys🔵🔴
user693 LETS GOOOO
lance_stroll So proud of you💙❤️
yourusername Thank you Lance❤️
user4635 y’all seeing this???
user8476 the hearts…🤭
user4316 BARCELONA 🔛🔝
user1036 mother is mothering‼️
landonorris Congratulations, you guys were amazing!👏
liked by yourusername
user5837 YOU GUYS WILL ROCK THE FINAL
fcbfemeni best cb in laliga🔥🔵🔴
yourusername best club💙❤️
user3835 devoured and left no crumbs
user8547 who is that girl and why are lance and lando always in her likes and comments??
user9527 girl bffr💀
user1584 “that girl” is Y/n mf L/n.
user5264 @user8547 That is Y/n L/n! She plays for Barcelona’s women's team. She and Lance have been friends for quite a while and I guess he introduced her to the other drivers at some point because a lot of them follow her. She's been to a few races and sometimes still attends them when she's not playing for Barcelona! :)
2 May 2023
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landonorris just added to their story . . .
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liked by mclaren, fcbfemeni and 97,537 others
private replies to this story . . .
maxfewtrell Off to go see the love of your life play?👀
landonorris Shut up mate
maxfewtrell You didn’t deny it👀
landonorris Dude she doesn’t even know I exist
maxfewtrell Of course she knows you exist. She’s friends with Lance and therefore knows you from the grid.
landonorris Yeah okay but that’s about it. The first and only time we talked in person was in 2020 so she probably forgot about my existence.
maxfewtrell Well then change that😉
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yourusername
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liked by alexiaputellas, wchampionsleague and 1,846,053 others
yourusername This feels unreal🏆🔵🔴
tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague
show top comments . . .
lance_stroll I’m literally so proud of you. We have to celebrate this, love you💙
yourusername Thank you so much, can’t wait to see you again💙
user836 @lance_stroll confess to her already🙄🙄
user638 i ship them so hard
landonorris This was the first football game I watched live and the atmosphere was amazing. Great win💙❤️
yourusername Our games always have an amazing atmosphere, it’s really worth it
landonorris I could tell! Today’s game won’t be the last one I’ll see live
yourusername I hope so :)
user9526 AYO WHAT IS GOING ON
9 May 2023
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yourusername just added to their story . . .
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liked by lance_stroll, landonorris and 352,942 others
11 May 2023
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∿ taglist ─ @ay7ton @ch3rryknots @fdl305 @chrysanthemonza @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @hevburn @noncannonships @quadrisl @dhhdhsiavdhaj @godessstela @hectorr-19 @layazul @bambispostsblog @ferrariloverr @xxenia14 @sigistarkstrom @asparklysoul @dinodumbass @tpwkstiles @our-love-world @sainzluvrr @ophcelia @mcmuppet ( here’s my taglist if you want to get tagged in my future work )
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don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).
© milaeth | 2023
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slttygeto · 1 year
Text
COMFORTING YOU AFTER A BREAKDOWN
featuring: gojo, geto.
genre: fluff, comfort.
note #1: super self indulgent. my best friend had just finished comforting me from a breakdown and i thought why not write something abt these men being sweethearts.
note #2: double update???? see yall in 2024 i guess /j
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—GOJO
im not even being biased when i say hes the best at comforting
he’s extremely intelligent. but his emotional intelligence makes him feel safer
he wont really act “goofy” like most of the fandom makes him out to be
but rather sit with you and wait until youve calmed down before he can ask you if youre ready to talk
it seemed as though the more he tried to get you talk, the more your lip quivered before you went back to crying again. this has never happened before, and it’s not like gojo was panicking about how to comfort you, he was just extremely worried as to what pushed you to such a breaking point.
rubbing your arms with his thumbs as you stood between his legs and cried on his shoulder, the tall white haired man remained as quiet as possible, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
“do you want me to rock you a little bit?” he rested his chin at the top of your head, gently swinging your body from side to side as he listened to your stuttered breaths and little sniffles that slowly broke his heart to pieces.
“are you ready to talk?” the question itself brought tears to your eyes once again, your arms wrapping around his torso to squeeze him tight and pull him closer to you.
“okay, okay, that’s a no I guess,” he added in a teasing tone, chuckling a little when he heard you snort in between sobs.
you were sure of one thing, and it was that no matter how shitty your day was, getting to be with satoru was able to fix everything.
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—GETO
goes into protective mode the moment he sees that youre crying because he knows it takes a lot for you to breakdown this hard
will hold your hands and repeatedly ask you if youre hurt somewhere or if you need to go to the hospital
only to realize halfway through that it was just a bad day, a bad week or maybe even a bad month since you tended to brush things off until you were going to explode
“you scared me,” when he said this, he didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. yet watching you slowly sit up on his lap, swollen eyes filling with tears once again as you let out what he understood to be a “im sorry” in the shape of a sob, shattered his heart to pieces that he had to place his hand on the back of your head to have you hugging him again.
“not saying this to make you feel guilty baby, it just shows that i care. i care when you’re going through something and it affects you this much,” you knew he was referring to the fact that he found you sobbing on the bathroom floor, messy hair and attire being a sign that you weren’t even able to get out of bed the entire day.
“it was just a bad day. was too tired to try and lie to myself,” you mumbled against his chest, body relaxing when his fingers started to trace your back gently.
“if it’s a bad day, then let it be a bad day. even if it physically stops you from getting things done, you’re doing more than enough.”
and sometimes, you wish you were able to record when suguru was this…soft. not that he wasn’t on other days, but seeing him be this careful with his words wasn’t really often considering his blunt personality.
yet, you were still grateful for every part of him.
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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spadesolace · 4 months
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what is love?
1000 special: the fic that started it all
words: 3k
spade speaks: “i want to say thank you to the love and support you have given me within a year of me posting. 2023 is really a rollercoaster of a ride - from the angst that i’ve written to the fluff in the end. i’d like to dedicate this fic - the one that started it all - to all of you. what is love has a special place in my heart. to the ones that followed me from the start and to those who are joining along from the ride. thank you, i appreciate your existence.”
what is love?
minji never knew the answer to that question, there was no definite answer to be given when she hasn’t experienced love herself. with the amount of confessions she has gotten, not one made her heart skip a beat – even when her fake crush confessed to her. that was before realizing her own feelings towards her best friend, who is now her girlfriend as well.
you are the only person who owns her heart before she even knew that you have it. the only person to make her stop and go insane just by merely looking at you; and all this time she thought that she merely admired you as a friend. so what is love according to kim minji?
love is as sweet as candy.
minji is well aware you’re not one for PDA, aside from holding hands while walking around the mall or walking her to her classes. kisses were out of the window whenever you’re outside and hugs were a once in a while thing for you. yet seeing you letting wonyoung kiss you on the cheek made minji’s blood boil.
it was friendly, she’s aware of that but letting your other best friend freely kiss you while your own girlfriend has to wait until you’re alone seemed unfair. which lead to your current position, minji cornering you as your back is pressed against a wall – the position would have made you laugh as minji was a few inches smaller than you but your girlfriend looks mad that you could only let out a squeak as she was inches from you.
“son y/n jangmi.” a nervous laugh left your mouth, full name was rarely blurted out especially with your korean middle name.
“darling, why the full government name?” minji was pointing at your chest, your back now fully pressed to the wall that you're scared of what she would do.
“kiss me.”
“WHAT?!” both are aware that PDA is the one thing that you won’t do, the sudden demand makes you question what is running on your girlfriend’s mind. let alone what brought the idea up.
“i said kiss me.”
“yeah, i heard you but- could you put your finger down first.” minji slowly backs away and puts her hands to her sides as you finally relax a bit. “why suddenly bring it up?”
minji looks away from your piercing gaze, looking everywhere and avoiding your eyes, a nervous habit of hers that you’ve noticed since you were kids. personally, you would love nothing more than to kiss your girlfriend – the only thing stopping you is that you’re in public despite staying in the locker room where minji managed to catch you alone while your teammates went home already.
“well–” minji finally looks at you, and she could only see a puppy as you tilted your head slowly leaning closer to her with a smile on your face. her immediate reaction was to push your face away as her face heats up from the fluttering feeling in her stomach.
“stop looking at me like that.” minji’s hand is still on your face, taking it with your own free hand and slowly putting it down.
“like what?” your laughter is the one thing minji will never get tired of. taking a quick peek at you as she processes what she wanted to say. she draws a blank. her heart beating faster than it normally does. 
“like i put the stars in the night sky or something – i don’t know.”
you could only hold minji’s hand that was closest to you, kissing the top of it as you walked closer to her. smiling at her as you held her chin up to properly look at you.
“if you wanted a kiss, just ask nicely, darling.” soft lips on top of hers, cherry flavored lips that feels like she’ll get intoxicated from along with her strawberry flavored lips that has you weak. cherry might not be the sweetest flavor there is but minji thinks you're as sweet as candy with the way you pull her closer as if she’s your oxygen and that you’re dependent on her lips. minji had to stop you before anyone could possibly walk in on you two – despite your coach letting you lock up.
“ok ok, don’t overdo it.”
“noted, darling. so… why the sudden request?” as minji explained her reason in embarrassment as they walked out the locker rooms together. your hand holding hers while carrying both your bags in one arm. your thumb caressing the back of her hand as you walk home together - even in the littlest of things minji feels butterflies in her stomach.
love is like flying in the sky.
it had been a week since you left for your internship in your mom’s firm, leaving minji alone in your apartment. with it being a few days away from her birthday, minji wishes you’d be there on her special day. she waits patiently for you to call, all the way from new york as the clock strikes 9 in the morning, right on time. minji didn’t hesitate and immediately answered your call. there you stood in your pyjamas in your mother’s apartment as you held a bowl close to you. 
“good morning, did you sleep well?” minji wishes she could be completely honest and tell you how much she hates sleeping alone now that you’re miles away from her. how your side of the bed feels so empty and having to cuddle your pillow doesn’t make things any better. she keeps her mouth shut.
“yup, woke up early today. mina-unnie is coming to pick me up in 2 hours. how’s your day so far?” you nodded as you filled your bowl with your mom’s cooking and brought your phone with you as you dined alone.
“quite busy, a lot of case studies and mom plans on extending the stay for two days.”
“oh- that means you won’t be here for my birthday…”
before your call with minji, the truth was that you were free to go back to korea as your mom finishes some business. knowing fully well that minji’s birthday is around the corner and you wouldn’t want to miss it. so, you booked the earliest flight back to korea which meant either landing on the day itself or earlier. in a few hours or so, you’ll be back home within the arms of your girlfriend.
“sorry, darling. i’ll make it up to you when i get back.” a part of you was hoping that she’ll fall for your lie, and just looking at her mood; it might have worked too well.
mina even texted you that minji was sulking during her shoot, which has been happening quite a lot and it’s what made the shoots fast sometimes. despite mina complaining every 10 minutes about how your girlfriend keeps sighing and saying she misses you. it had reached a point where mina had to show minji your old pictures when she and chaeyoung would babysit you.
on the day of your flight, you had asked your mom to not tell anyone that you’ll be home for minji’s birthday let alone if minji asks her. to which your mom admitted would be quite hard as she loves minji as if she was her own daughter.
“please, mina-unnie knows about it so she can pick me up. you could probably ask wonyoung to keep minji busy so that she wouldn’t message me while i’m on the plane. simply just tell her that i’m busy or asleep.” your mom just patted you on the shoulder as she turned you around and pushed you towards immigration.
“stop worrying, i’ve kept the fact that i was rich from your father for years. now, safe travels and call me when you’ve landed.” you never got the chance to question your mom, all you remember is rushing and getting on board for your 15 hour flight that could make or break your sanity just to be there for your girlfriend of 3 years.
on the other side of the world, minji was lowkey losing her sanity. it’s not like you to miss her messages or calls - even if you were busy you still answered it. nothing made sense to her as she questions why wonyoung and hanni are doing their best to make sure she doesn’t check your location. it had almost been an entire day since your last message and she didn’t want to get her hopes up as your mom sent her a picture of you at your desk reading cases (it was taken the previous day).
“UGH- WHY ISN’T SHE ANSWERING MY CALLS?!” hanni is scared for her life because she hasn’t seen her best friend lose sanity over a girl and it wasn’t like you to leave her hanging. wonyoung is simply enjoying everything as she waits for your message that you’ve landed and as if the gods had answered her prayers; you finally messaged them of your whereabouts.
“i really can’t thank you enough, mina-unnie.” one of the many perks of having a future sister-in-law that is a CEO of her own company is getting a free pass to use her private plane.
“no worries, knowing how you’ll try to survive a 15 hour flight on business. the least i could do is not let you suffer and be cranky when surprising my model.” the trip on the way back to your shared apartment with minji took longer than expected due to the traffic. you’ve already informed wonyoung on how close you are to home.
minji is on edge, it’s her birthday and you’re a no show - messages and calls ignored. she was close to sending you an email until hanni stopped her and hoped you’d finally message your girlfriend. the silence of your shared apartment as minji looks out, the day hasn’t ended yet (it’s only 11 am and she has already lost it). then hearing the very familiar voice that is her ringtone of you calling her “darling! i’m stuck inside your phone!” she answered it immediately. hanni and wonyoung could only look at their friend as if she was a rabid animal who hasn’t eaten in weeks.
“son y/n! why weren’t you answering my messages?”
“i’m sorry, i got caught up with the cases mom made me read and my phone was on dnd then-” you rambled on about your fake excuse that was being overworked by your own mother as mina tried her best not to laugh at your stressed state while in the elevator to your place.
“fine, i’ll let it slide just this once.”
“sorry, darling - but i did send something for you.” right on time the doorbell to your place rang, minji headed towards the door to check on who it was, only to see mina and a suitcase next to her. a very familiar suitcase. mina was lowkey nervous as you stand by the doorbell camera of your place making sure you’re not in the picture as minji opens the door. a sad smile on her face while she held onto her phone and greeted mina.
“a certain someone wanted you to have this.” minji wasn’t dense but hearing mina’s voice echo in the other line - she assumed you would be somewhere within the area and upon checking outside. there you stood with a cake and bouquet at hand while your phone was on speaker.
“happy birthday, darling.” even if miles apart, you wouldn’t miss your girl’s birthday even if it meant flying for hours on end just to be there on time.
love keeps you smiling all day.
things have always been light and fun between you two. minji loves how you’re considered as one of the most serious people she knows but behind it is someone who has been through a lot as a child. that’s one of the reasons why minji loves you.
seeing your childlike wonder whenever you’re at home keeping yourself entertained with legos that you’ve built through your own imagination, sometimes joking about proposing with a lego box ring. one she found cute and quite hard to hide if that were your plan. minji watches you build a house that you’ve deemed as your dream house once you’ve saved enough money and have graduated. a modern house somewhere in canada as minji mentioned wanting to settle there in the future and seeing you incorporate that into something as small as building a lego house. she can’t help but admire you with a small smile on her face as you rambled on what rooms you wanted.
“so, you see us together in the future?” you hummed in response as you looked for a piece, one that minji noticed was stuck to your arm.
“well, yeah. i’m dating you to marry. i’m not letting go of the best thing i can call mine.”
“are you asking me to marry you in the subtlest way possible, baby?”
minji moved closer to you, finally taking the piece stuck on your arm and handing it to you. a smile on her face as you thanked her, finishing the lego house with the minifigures you had made months prior.
“if the time is right, i’ll be down on one knee and asking for your hand in marriage.” minji felt your lips on her cheek as you put the lego house in the middle of the table. “for now, we can only plan for the future.”
“like the lego house you built?”
“yup. i’ll give you a quick tour of what our possible house could be.”
minji loves it when you do the simplest of things, even if some would say its childish for a grown woman to play with legos while studying law and her girlfriend studying hard to be a doctor. you’ve changed for the better and minji adores that she gets to be there every step of the way. 
watching how your eyes would only look at her despite your classmates who have tried their best to make you look at them.
how you never leave the house without checking if she’s down to go out with you to do errands (the answer is always yes).
how despite living in the same place and seeing each other almost everyday for years, you’re not sick of her.
“so tell me more about that lego house of ours.” minji has always loved how you always planned the future with her in mind, even before you had confessed.
love makes you look at how beautiful the whole world is.
it was a given fact that you and minji are busy with your own work. let alone, she became an ambassador for Chanel and you’re proud of the girl who is currently within your arms in the city of love. having quite a peaceful picnic date with your girlfriend near the eiffel tower. the place might be noisy, a few insects here and there but minji’s mind is occupied by the girl sitting next to her taking her pictures with her film camera. a huge smile on her face as you take her picture, one that will be printed and placed on your board filled with pictures from your trips.
if you were with anyone else, you would have probably chosen a different date spot with how crowded the place is but seeing minji happy as you talk about her experience with paris fashion week or how you got the chance to meet one of mina’s closest friends who minji has already met before.
“how cliche would it be if someone proposed here, right now?” minji looked at you as if you were planning on proposing let alone, you had a conversation about the future the past year while you were building a lego house.
“quite cliche and neither of us would want to have a public proposal.”
“mhmm.. speaking of proposals. chaeyoung-unnie is finally going to do it.”
your entire date had been about everything related to love, with how you started and how dense minji was in high school to not notice your heart eyes directed at her or the way how you managed to trick minji into confessing first. in the eyes of kim minji, anywhere with you would be a beautiful view - even if you did see a rat running at the foot of the eiffel tower.
“oh, it’s remy.”
“ew.”
whatever love is, minji has no definitive answer - as long as you’re in the picture, minji considers it as love.
even if you’re outside of the apartment holding your belongings and ready to say goodbye. with a sad smile - minji knows in some way you’ll come back even if it means leaving her alone
in your shared apartment, in the middle of the table was the lego house you had built for you two. there she stood, eyes on the simple building you had made as she looked out of the balcony of your apartment with your back turned and bags being put into your car. minji knows you’ll be back.
“girl, will you stop crying. you’ll see her in a week. it’s only chaeyoung-unnie’s bridal shower. then the wedding.” hanni had watched minji look out the balcony as you waved goodbye and drove away to the airport to meet up with your sister.
this little thing might seem a bit too much for hanni, but to minji this was a huge step for your sister and you were needed every step of the way as the maid of honor. 
even while on the plane talking to your sister and her friends, with a velvet box in your pocket that you had recently claimed from rei. one that you had asked to be customized but your proposal can wait - for now you’re here to celebrate your sister who is about to get married in Japan.
“nervous?” chaeyoung could only nod as she pats your hand that was placed on top of the armchair.
“aren’t you? between the two of us, you literally have an engagement ring in your pocket along with my wedding ring.” you smiled as you show the velvet box that you’ve been holding onto.
“one thing for sure, unnie, i wanna spend the rest of my life with minji.”
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Text
(and if nothing brings you back) Surely, I'll roam through life in black
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Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!
Title is an excerpt from Blind and Frozen by Beast in Black (again). Sequel to Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). There will now be a separate epilogue to this story!
Note - 13/11/2023: I have edited Built a haven to delete a brief reference to Kain, the reader's past lover, in order to focus on other, more important characters.
*****
Dracule Mihawk is a patient man.
It is a natural quality, and at the same time that self-restraint is one of the reasons he has come as far as he has. After all, you don't become the best at what you do if you get bored easily, or frustrated after a visible lack of progress after a few short weeks; while natural talent did undoubtedly play a role in making him the man he is, Mihawk knows it is the long hours he spent practicising his swordsmanship (every single day since he was five, hundreds and even thousands of repetitions of the same figure, of the same lunge or the same parry, until he could perform them in his sleep and through simple muscle memory) that has made him the most respected and feared adversary in the four seas. He has always known in his heart the way of the sword was his destiny, no matter how hard and long the way to the top would be, and that path he has walked, patient and persevering, confident that one day his efforts and dedication would bear fruit - which they have. Even so, he still practices, every day, with the same focus and tenacity of when he was ten, still until his arms hurt and his fingers bleed, and then a little more.
Dracule Mihawk is a very patient man, not least because there is very little nowadays that can actually excite his curiosity to the point of anxiety; no rival in the last decade has seriously interested him, no swordsman he has heard about or met has made him feel excited at the prospect of a fight (or rather, one has; but a full year after their first and only meeting, Roronoa Zoro still has a long way to go before becoming a worthy opponent. But that is not a problem; once more, he is patient, he can wait.) and no future plan or commitment has ever made him wish time would pass faster. He is not bored, per se; he is just perfectly content with the way he spends his days, without worrying about what the future may bring...
... except for a single, tiny (no more than fourteen pounds by now, according to a book he has accidentally found in his library and even more fortuitously leafed through until he has found the chapter about infant growth) detail... one that has kept him awake at night for the first time in his life, and that not even training until his body gave up and his mind begged for the relief of sleep has been able to banish from his thoughts.
You. Or, to be more precise, the consequences of the night you have spent together. Or, to be even more precise, the reason why you haven't made him aware of them like you had agreed to do.
That... your silence, and the suspicion you are not deliberately keeping him in the dark (why should you? You have promised to inform him as soon as you had seen your doctor, you have his transponder snail number, you know how important it is to him) but something is keeping you from calling... that is what is making him loose his sleep.
To be honest, he started feeling anxious (a feeling he has at first almost struggled to recognize, so alien it was to his personality) just a few days after you had said goodbye, a feeling that became harder and harder to ignore, and then to keep at bay, as the weeks succeded one another. At first, he wasn't worried - just irritated. Even the most ignorant man in matters of childbearing knows it could take a while, perhaps even a whole month, before a person has reason to suspect they are expecting, and a late period could be due to several reasons other than pregnancy. Also, according to the book, it is not uncommon for pregnancies to end in the first three months, for reasons not even the best doctors fully understand; perhaps, he reflected as he polished Yoru at the end of yet another day-long training session, you have decided to wait until you are reasonably sure your pregnancy is real and healthy enough to reach full term, before informing him. Given how important this is to you, how desperately you wanted to get pregnant and have a baby, you may have ordered yourself not to believe it yourself until then, as if you knew you couldn't bear to lose the child you had waited for so long...
He was sure - no, he had been ready to bet his life that you would call after three months, to tell him you were officially, undeniably pregnant with his child. You are not the sort of person who forgets a promise they made, and while he has not yet decided what role he would play in the child's life, if any, you knew (you had to know!) it was important for him to be aware of the truth. He expected to receive your call any day, and he was determined not to miss it, so much that for the first time in his life he started bringing his transponder snail to the training room, or wherever he had decided to practice in that day, to make sure he heard it ringing.
It didn't. Or rather, when it did, it was never the call he expected. It was never you, and while three months became four, and then five, and then six, Mihawk started feeling restless, and frustrated, and then worried. Why aren't you calling?, he kept wondering. The thought, that was rapidly becoming an obsession, was constantly on his mind (when he trained; when he ate; when he showered; when he fought, either yet another quarry the Marines had sicced him on, or some fame-hungry swordsman who thought they could measure themselves against him and invariably discovered they could not; when he tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep) and threatened to drive him mad.
Six months after your night together, he had to stop lying to himself and seriously consider the hypothesis that you hadn't simply failed to contact him, whether because you had forgotten (absolutely impossible) or deliberately, but something was preventing you from doing it. Also, the two of you had never gone so long without meeting, and your few mutual acquaintances had not seen you recently either; you might have taken some time off from, or indeed put an end to, your activity as a mercenary when you realized you were pregnant, but that would not explain the lack of contact. Were you sick? Was the baby making you sick, and so weak you could not even hold a transponder snail receiver and speak in it? It seemed absurd: you were a still young, healthy woman, and even the most difficult pregnancy could not put a person into a coma! What could have been happened, then?
Has something terrible happened to you? It was, unfortunately, much less improbable than he would have wished; after all being a mercenary had to be one of the most unsafe, potentially fatal professions in the world, and your latest quarry might have turned out to be more challenging than you had expected, or maybe someone set to avenge one of your past victims had been able to sneak up on you and...?
He wanted to know. He had to - no, he needed to know, he reflected one night, the umpteenth in which he had found himself unable to sleep, as he looked at the starry sky out of his bedroom window, because while very little in the world had the power to upset or even just to actually interest him, he felt not knowing what had happened to you, and if you were safe and sound, could really drive him insane. You were strong, clever and resilient, but no one could keep their guard constantly up day and night, and so many dangerous things existed in the world; if you were hurt, and kept somewhere against your will unable to ask for help, he would move heaven and earth to find and set you free. And if it were already too late, if you had... died, either at the hands of an enemy or for some other reason...
In that case I really don't know what will become of me, he thought, then and so many times in the following months. He would have gladly stabbed himself in the heart rather than uttering those words out loud, or having someone else know he felt that way, but that was the truth and Mihawk was not in the habit of lying to himself.
The thing that vexed him the most was the inability to contact, and then to look for, you himself. He had not thought about asking for your own transponder snail number (something he had reproached himself for many times) and he even ignored the name of your island, which would have been the first place to search in. Worry and frustration prompted him to do what he never thought he would: call the Marines and ask... for informations.
"(name)? I haven't seen her in a while." Vice-Admiral Garp said, his tone pensive, on the day Mihawk contacted him "I was informed the man I had sent her to dispatch is dead, but she never came to collect the bounty, nor has she called or written to ask us to send it to her. I'm starting to think something bad has happened."
"Have you tried contacting her?"
"Of course we have. But her transponder snail has been deactivated since the first time we called, I don't know where she lives nor whether she has friends or family. Why do you care what happened to her?"
The sudden question, asked in a deliberately casual tone, took him by surprise for a moment. This doesn't concern you, Mihawk wanted to answer, but he stopped himself in time. He didn't particularly like Garp, but the older man was clever and relentless, not to mention he considered those like the two of you, pardoned pirates and mercenaries, like a necessary evil to keep in check; he would not go as far as to hurt a pregnant woman, and was probably already aware of your acquaintance given all the times you and him had sat down to drink and talk at the Marine HQ, but the least he knew, the better.
"(name) had promised to help me find a person I am interested in." he invented, confident a mere business deal would not interest the Marine much "A famous swordmaker she had been acquainted with years ago. She had promised she would track him down for me after her latest assignment, but I have not heard from her in a months."
"Had she now."
"What do you mean, Vice-Admiral?" Mihawk asked, suddenly irked; he didn't like the skeptic, vaguely mocking, tone the older man had used.
"Nothing, nothing. I'm afraid I can't help you, Mihawk; If you see her, tell her we'll keep the bounty for her."
As if he were the Marines' messenger boy. Mihawk disconnected without answering, sighed, and covered his eyes with his hand. It was as he feared: the call had been useless; you had disappeared, and he had no way to find you.
*****
And he still doesn't, six more months later, as he sits on the front steps of his house, a glass of red wine in his hand and his gaze facing the sunset, the familiar but still breath-taking view of the sky lit of red and black for once failing to catch his interest.
A year. A whole year spent thinking about you, worrying about you - and without you. He has sent word to his (very few) allies, acquaintances and whoever he could trust or owed him a favour, asking them to be on the look-out and inform him of any news, no matter how apparently far-fetched, about you.
It was all for nothing. You must have given birth by now, your baby should be around three months of age (has he ever seen a baby that small? Probably not since he was a very young boy himself, and he is sure he has never held one in his arms; well, he’s sure you’ll show him how…) but there is no trace of either of you. You seem to have disappeared into thin air, and Mihawk has never been so worried in his entire life. The possibility you are safe, having decided to hide and fake your death, doesn't even cross his mind; you had a deal, one he knows in his heart you would never break, both because you would have no reason to and because you would never do that to him (you wouldn't. It may sound presumptuous to think so, to believe he has some kind of influence over you, and he cannot claim to know what is in your mind... let alone in your heart... but you would keep you word, he would bet his life on it) which must mean that something is keeping you from contacting him, someone has hurt you, either keeping you prisoner somewhere, which would at least explain why you have disappeared, or worse...
You could have been killed. You could be dead, and the thought is so fiercely painful, the agony it fills his very being with so scorching and bitter, Mihawk wishes he could tear his heart from his chest, because if that were actually true nothing else, nor vengeance nor the passing of time, and surely not another lover, could ever give him the smallest amount of relief. So many people die every day, in some cases alone and unmourned, but the same cannot have happened to you, you are too... too smart and capable to have let an enemy overcome you, and too special and precious to have lived through something so terrible and humiliating...
And the baby? Your baby? What has happened to them?
Accepting to conceive a child together has been an impulsive decision, taken after just a few hours of reflection, but Mihawk does not regret it... and not simply because it has led him to the best night of his life. The thought of a child, of any child, hurt and killed would naturally horrify him, but to imaginehis own baby, his son or daughter, in danger or hurt... is it possible for a man to bear such an overwhelming grief?
He never thought he could feel like this; he never thought he would meet someone capable of arousing that sort of feeling in him, but he has, you have, and while Mihawk doesn't regret it, and knows he won't even if he does discover you have passed, the thought of losing you and your child before even having the chance to meet them... and to say goodbye to you, and... to talk to you once more, is... is...
He doesn't pray. He never has, and he knows in his heart it would make no difference, nor would he be able to find some comfort in it. Mihawk doesn’t believe in God, not in the benevolent, all-powerful kind so many people trust to make their lives a little more bearable or at least to reward them for their good deeds in the afterlife. What, who, he believes in, is himself, and this is why, after he woke up screaming from an horrible, excruciating nightmare (in which he opened the house door to find your reanimated corpse in front of him, a tiny dead body in your arms, telling him you were sorry you made him worry) he promises himself that if he ever finds you, you or the baby or hopefully both, he will never leave you again, and will give his life to protect you.
I swear, (name). I know you didn’t break your promise voluntarily; let me keep mine. Please, come back to me; I trust you. I can’t go on like this; not knowing is destroying me. Let me know you are both all right, and I swear I won’t let anything happen to you…
Are his feelings (fear, the instinctive protectiveness towards a child who is the blood of his blood, the memory of the night of passion you shared) getting the best of him, leading him to make a much deeper commitment than he would have been willing to had you, safe and sound, phoned him after a month to announce him you were in the family way? Perhaps. After all he does have a heart, but while he doesn’t intend to ask for your hand as soon as you meet again, he knows that whatever destiny has in store for the two of you, he will never regret his promise or the choice he made a year ago.
He never could, if you keep being part of his life. So he vows, in the privacy of his heart, and barely one day later he receives an answer; by God, by destiny, or someone else, he doesn’t care, but he has to quickly put an hand to his mouth to prevent Garp from hearing his sigh of relief.
“(name) has just called me.” The Vice-Admiral says; he sounds amused, as if his conversation with you had confirmed his suspicions about the reason why Mihawk was so worried about your disappearance. Lookin for a famous swordmaker indeed! “She has lost your number, but she was able to retrieve mine through an acquaintance who works close to another Marine base and asked me to convey a message.”
Silence.
“Mihawk?”
“I am here, Vice-Admiral.” he answers, in control of his emotions once more, even though he is clutching the transponder snail receiver so hard his knuckles have turned white “What is the message?”
“Simply her number, that she has asked me to give you. Do you have a pen?”
Mihawk does, but he needs to hear the number just once to know he will remember it forever. You are all right, he keeps repeating himself, alive and if perhaps not unharmed strong enough to carry out a conversation. Relief hits him, so sudden and overwhelming it almost hurts; did she tell you where she’s been in the last year? Is she all right?, for a moment he is about to ask, before thinking better of it; he will call you as soon as he finishes with Garp, who in any case he wouldn’t confide his fears in.
 “I’ll tell her about the bounty she is owed. Good evening, Vice-Admiral.” he says, before hanging up and without giving the older man a chance to reply. He is alone, as always when he is at home, and Mihawk has never been so grateful for that lack of guests or, Gods forbid, house mates, because the last thing he wants is to have someone see him in that moment.
You’re alive. That is not enough to dispel all his fears, since as far as he knows you could be deadly ill or kept prisoner somewhere, and, most importantly, he still knows nothing about your baby, but suddenly he feels able to breathe normally for the first time in ages - in a whole year, that is. I knew you hadn’t forgotten your promise; that you hadn’t forgotten about me, he thinks, still worried but feeling a smile (a real, sincere smile, something no one in the world has ever seen on his face) open on his mouth. He remains still for a moment, the memory of your kiss and the sensation of your warm, solid body in his arms still etched in his mind, and a moment later he is already dialing the number Garp gave him.
You answer immediately; as if you were waiting for him to call. (You were. Desperately, fear and longing heavy on your heart; you needed to hear his voice like a person lost in a desert needed a glass of cold water, but at the same time you knew what you needed to tell him would destroy him, like it had destroyed you.)
“Mihawk?”
“This is him.” he promptly answers; until now you have always spoken in person and it has been a year since the last time, but he would recognize you voice anywhere “(name), are you all right?”
Silence.
“Name? Please…” he insists; that last word sounds almost alien on his tongue, but he can hear the call didn't fall, and the idea of you not wanting to talk to him is too painful to bear “Are you all right? Where are you?”
“I…”
“Is our baby all right?”
He can feel you hesitating for a moment more before slowly answering: “You needn’t worry; no one has been seriously hurt.”, which sounds too and unnecessarily complex when a simple we are both all right would have sufficed, but the determination in your voice is enough to reassure him “I’m sorry, I know I had promised to call you as soon as I had been to the doctor. I swear I would have, but…”
“Have you been kidnapped?”
“How do you know? Well, you’re right; I have been kept prisoner for a year, and my transponder snail was taken from me. I got free four days ago and I got home the day before yesterday. Mihawk, I…”
“Yes?”
Silence. Again. “I think it would be better if we spoke in person.” you state in the end “I’m sorry to ask you, but my doctor says I shouldn’t move for a few days a least, and my mother is of the same mind...”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Mihawk quickly answers, perfectly aware he doesn’t even know where there is, and utterly unbothered by the issue.
“Really?”
 “Of course. Give me the coordinates.”
You do, from memory, and he writes them down, just to be safe; he shouldn’t take more than a day to reach you, he is pleased to realize. “I will be there tomorrow morning at the latest.” he promises; most people would think twice before sailing at night in unknown waters, but he is not most people “How do I find you?”
“I’ll send someone to wait for you at the harbour. Mihawk?”
“Yes?”
“Were you worried for me?”
He snorts - inelegant, perhaps, but since you cannot see him…
“What do you think?” he pointedly asks, and he’s happy to hear you laugh, just for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (name).” he promises, and then he is the one hesitating just for a moment, before adding: “I can’t wait to meet our child.”
You say your goodbyes and hung up, quickly enough he can’t hear you burst in tears.
*****
He is sailing less than thirty minutes later, pleased to discover a favourable wind is pushing his ship in the right direction, and exactly twenty-two hours later his ship docks at the only little port of your island, in a warm, sunny morning he would consider a good sign, were he inclined to believe in that sort of things (he never has). The moment he steps on the harbour, mainly occupied by tiny fishing boats, a trio of men in livery approach him.
“Welcome to our island, sir.” the oldest respectfully tells him as they all bow in unison; he doesn’t ask for his name, Mihawk notices, nor does he mention it to make sure he’s addressing the right man “Lady (name) has sent us to meet you. Will you please follow us to the fortress?”
He does, and the brief ride in the small but elegant horse-drawn carriage gives him the opportunity to explore the place you call home. You had told him it was small, and it really is, little more than a rock in a relatively unimportant corner of the sea, but patriotism aside, he can see why you like it: the streets are large, the building well-kept, the marketplace the carriage passes next to thriving, and the flora seems to be as lush as you said it was, given the huge trees he sees in the squares and along the streets.
Still, sight-seeing is not what he has come here for, and when finally the fortress (a solid, relatively large stone building, wind-tossed flags at the top of the four corner towers and a drawbridge over a deep moat) appears in front of him, Mihawl feels his heart skip a beat, both looking forward to seeing you and at the same time fearing the state he will see you in. Such sentimentality, such an inability to put order among his feelings, is very unlike him, as well as the sort of things he has always done his best to avoid and considered an unnecessary distraction. Still, he doesn't regret those feelings; you are part of him now, an unexpected but not unwelcome state of things, and while openly discussing matters of the heart has never been easy for him, and he doesn't yet feel ready to give a name to the emotions you have elicited in him, he wants you to know, he needs you to know, he has never stopped thinking about you from the day you said goodbye...
About you, and about the child you have given him. The child, about three months old now, who he is going to meet in a few minutes.
Crossed the large double door of the fortress, the older man in livery exchanges a few words with another servant. "Lady (name) is in her quarters." he then reports "I'll bring you to her straight away, sir, unless you want to rest for a while. A room has been prepared for you."
Mihawk is not tired, but had he not slept for a week, his answer would be the same. "Bring me to her."
You like admiring the sunrise in the morning, as you prepare to begin your day, hence your quarters are east-facing. Mihawk is led to a small parlor, which might double as your study given the desk and the full bookcase on one side. A closed passage leads presumably to your bedroom, while an open double door gives way to a sun-lit terrace, where a quiet but serious conversation is taking place.
"... need to tell him. You owe him the truth, especially if you hope for your relationship to continue."
"I know that, mother. I don't want to lie to him, but... he told me he looked forward to meeting the baby... I can barely bear to think about what the doctor said, but to discuss it..."
"I know how painful it will be; for both of you. But you still have a whole life in front of you, and you need to come to terms with..."
The conversation quickly ceases when the man in livery steps on the terrace. "Pardon, my ladies. Your guest is here, lady (name)."
The terrace is a mostly empty semicircle bordered by a wrought iron parapet, the breath-taking view opening on the whole island; Mihawk doesn't even glance at it, his yellow eyes immediately drawn to the younger of the two women sat not far from him, semi-reclining on a deck-chair under a large straw umbrella, a pillow behind her back hiding a tiny but deadly machine gun.
You.
The first thing he notices is the weight you have lost. He has tried many times to imagine how your body would change because of your pregnancy, what you would look like heavy with his child; he was sure he would find you beautiful as ever, perhaps even more so. He even entertained himself wondering how it would have been to make love to you as you were visibly pregnant... and discovered the thought was not at all unpleasant.
The you in front of him couldn't be farther from those fantasies. No doubt because of the year you spent imprisoned, you are clearly underweight, your left leg, left naked by the short skirt of your dress, is braced and bandaged, a profound, overcome but persistent weakness surrounding you, as if the excellent care you are receiving at home still couldn't undo the ill treatment you have suffered.
A strong-willed, resilient woman like you would not be cowed by a slap or a skipped meal. What sort of violence and abuse did your captors have to resort to in order to break your spirit? Have you been beaten? Starved? Exposed to the weather in the coldest days of the winter? Have they... assaulted you? Whatever the truth, Mihawk suddenly wishes he could have them in front of him; after a single hour, those bastards would beg him to die quickly.
Then you smile at him, happy and relieved, and the desire for revenge is promptly forgotten - or at least put aside. "Hello, (name)."
"You came."
"You know I would have."
You share a look, brief but enough to make him feel as if the last year had been no longer than a day; he can see unmitigated joy in your eyes, and relief, and... wariness, almost as if you feared what could be said during the conversation he has come to have. Are you... afraid of him? Why? What do you have to tell him that could upset him to the point of...?
He notices, a whole minute later than he should have, that the baby is not with you, nor there is on the terrace a cot or a little bed you could have put them in. He is about to ask, when the woman sat on the chair next to you, at the other side of a small round table, stands and turns to look at him. He doesn't need to consider the evident family resemblance, nor to think back to what you have told him about your family, to realize she must be your mother: you have the same look, the same kind but piercing gaze in your like-colored eyes. "Good morning. I am lady Veressa, (name)'s mother. It is a pleasure to have you on our island."
"Thank you, my lady." Mihawk answers with a slight bow of his head; he is able to behave courteously with people of authority, whatever Garp may think "The pleasure is mine."
"(name), I will leave you with your guest. Please, do not overexert yourself."
"I won't, mother. Thank you." you answer, and smile when she bends to kiss your brow. A moment later the lady of the island has left, the man in livery behind her, leaving the two of you alone.
Neither speaks as Mihawk moves the free chair even closer to yours and sits; there are about a million questions he wants to ask, but for a minute he is content like this, simply looking at you, reassuring himself you are really there, clearly exhausted but alive, healing, and still beautiful enough to take his breath away.
"You have a ten million berries bounty to collect." he points out after a while; you, apparently expecting to hear something completely different, blink, and appear to struggle a little to understand the meaning behind those words, as if your activity as a mercenary were a long-forgotten childhood game and not the trade you have practiced since you were still a girl.
"Oh... right. I will have to call Garp again one of these days."
You smile, still nervous but happy; your hand reaches towards him, and he takes it in his, careful, as if it were made of glass.
"I have missed you, Mihawk."
"And I you." he promptly answers; he wonders if you realize how rare, and surprisingly easy, it is for him to utter those simple words. Something tells him you do "Are you well?"
"Considering everything I have been through, I think so." you answer after a moment of reflection; there is no trace of complaint in your voice, rather it is the matter of fact tone of a person who dispassionately acknowledges a situation and moves on "The doctors said I have been lucky, a few more weeks under the loving care of my jailers and I would have died. And my leg should heal perfectly, which is the thing I was most worried about."
"That is good to hear. (name)..."
"You want to know about the baby." you interrupt him, and there is something on your face he cannot name, but that makes him shiver; as if you were preparing yourself for an unpleasant chore you could not avoid. You told him no one got seriously hurt, which only partially reassured him, and he knows he won't be able to relax until he sees his child with his own eyes... "Am I right?"
"Yes. Where are they?"
*****
This is a conversation you can't avoid; your mother is right, you owe him that much and more, especially if he is to still be part of your life from now on, which you desperately wish for. Still, you would give half of your blood (not a small sacrifice, considering how much of it you have wasted in the last year) to avoid or at least to postpone it, and enjoy the quiet, comforting joy of having Mihawk close once more, after fearing for so long you would never see him again.
You breathe in and, holding tight as if preparing for a violent impact, you confess: "There is no baby. I... I had my period a week after our night together, and regularly after that, at least for a while."
You have time to count up to ten before you hear him answering; you can't look at him, and perceive he'd rather you didn't.
"I see."
"I am so sorry, Mihawk. It was my most fertile period, and we tried three times... I was so sure..."
This time he is the one interrupting you. "I know. It is not your fault." he murmurs; you can feel the emotion in his voice, without a doubt much more than he wishes you to, and that makes you feel guilty, as if you were intruding in an intimate moment "I... I guess this is good, after all. You have clearly been hurt, and taken prisoner. That is not the sort of situation you'd want to be pregnant, and to have a child, in."
You can't help but agree, and you swallow, hoping against hope you can stop talking about it and the two of you can enjoy some time together before he leaves and you can go back mourning what will never be in the privacy of your heart, but Mihawk's next words hit you like a punch in the stomach.
"Maybe... maybe we can try again." he slowly suggests; he has started caressing the back of your and with his thumb, and the intimate tone of his voice, a still serious but unmistakably sensual accent in it, is enough to make you shiver, and cry "Once you have returned to health. Our night together was... very enjoyable, I wouldn't mind doing it again, and I must confess the idea of a child has grown on me..."
You will not cry. Not in front of him, not now. Don't you dare, (name).
"I can't." you murmur miserably; you feel as if you were confessing a terrible crime, something to be ashamed of, which couldn't be farther from the truth, and this makes you angry "I... after I came back, my mother insisted the doctors carried out a complete medical examination, to make sure we knew exactly what was wrong with me health-wise; we thought it was important to leave nothing untreated. My period had stopped after a few months, no doubt because I was given very little to eat, so my women's doctor visited me, and discovered... she found out that I..."
That I can't have children, and never will. Your voice breaks before you can utter those words, but Mihawk seems to perceive them all the same, and the flash of shock and pain in his lovely yellow eyes, brief but too sudden and fierce to hide it behind his usual sangfroid, makes you feel the worst, cruelest woman of the four seas. "Mihawk, I am so sorry... I swear I didn't know..."
"I believe you. I... I am the one who is sorry, (name). I know how important it was to you."
It was, and it still is; otherwise part of you wouldn't wish you had died in the cell you had been put in. "I know, but... you just told me you had started liking the idea of being a father. Well, I'm sure there are thousand of women who..."
"No. There aren't." he curtly stops you, as if to make it clear that he considers the matter closed. The intention behind those words, that he cannot imagine, that he doesn't want, a woman who is not you as the mother of his child, should make you feel happy, and flattered, and it does, even though that is just the light of a single candle in the unending darkness of your pain.
A still bitter but peaceful silence falls on you, your hand still enclosed in Mihawk's; even now, despite the excruciating pain making you feel as if a beast were eating you from the inside, you feel comfort, and peace, in having him close.
"What will you do now?" he asks after a while, and you shrug.
"My closest relative until two years ago was a distant cousin I didn't particularly like; he died, but he has left a son, and my mother and I agreed the best thing to do would be to name him my heir. He is only six, so it is too early to know whether he is a good fit for the role, but I will ask his mother to let the boy come live with us, and we can prepare him to rule after my death. He is technically of my blood so the succession should not be contested... but honestly I don't care much at the moment. The good of this island and its people has been my first and foremost interest since I was a girl, but now... now I would wish for everything to disappear. That I could disappear."
He has never seen that part of you, dejected and fragile and hopeless like a baby in the snow, and normally you would be embarrassed to have someone you respect and whose opinion you value witness those moments, but you know Mihawk has a heart, even though few people can say they have seen it, and you trust he will not judge you.
He doesn't.
"The people who hurt you." he mentions after a while "Are they alive?"
"The man who kidnapped me is dead, as well as a few of his henchmen I had to kill when they tried to stop me from escaping. Why?" you ask, confused, but a moment later you look at him, and a tiny smile blossoms on your lips "You want to go avenge me?"
"It is what you deserve."
"You don't even know why they did it. For all you know they could have had a good reason to try and hurt me."
"I'm sure they didn't."
"It was partially my fault actually. Every mercenary knows they should guard against friends and families of their victims, and I am usually careful, but that day I had lowered my guard." you admit, still ashamed of that rookie mistake "I was returning to the Marine HQ with the head of my latest quarry, and I fell in the trap this man had set for me; I had killed his brother years ago and he wanted revenge. I thought he would have killed me, but instead he wanted to prolong my suffering. He kept me in a cell so low I couldn't even stand, he starved me, beat me, left me outside and it was so cold I thought pneumonia would kill me... he took my derringer, my favourite gun, from me and smashed it under a rock, and I swear, that was the..."
And then he kisses you. To stop you from blabbering, perhaps, or because hearing what you have gone through has made him lose control with both rage and relief; you'll never know, and in the end you don't care. He has bent over you, covering the short distance between your chairs, his hand delicately cupping your face and his lips... his cool, soft lips, both gentle and hungry, are pressed against yours, and that is enough to light the fuse, to make your heart skip several beats and moan with pleasure, the memories of your night together instantly filling your mind.
You part your lips, suddenly so hungry for him you don't even care someone could enter and see you, but before you can deepen the kiss Mihawk breaks it, gently but firmly moving away and forcing you to let the hand you had placed on the back of his head fall.
"I am sorry." he says, with the least apologetic tone the world has ever heard "I shouldn't have."
"Yes, you should have. Do you really think you need to apologise?"
"You are very weak, and hurt. The last thing you need is to exert yourself."
"Is that your medical opinion?" you promptly retort; you still feel dead inside, like you have since you learnt you are destined to remain childless, but you want him so much you can barely breathe, and that makes you bold "I will not die if you kiss me, Mihawk; nor if we sleep together once more, which I would really like."
"(Name)..." he says with a sigh, and for a moment you almost hate him; he looks, and sounds, like a patient adult dealing with an unruly child, which is frustrating and more than a little offensive.
"You told me a moment ago you would be willing to try again. I know I do not look my best right now..."
"Do you really think I care about that?" Mihawk retorts; he hasn't raised his voice, but anger is seeping in his tone, which you approve. Anything, even rage, is better than concern; anything is better than him treating you as if you were broken, even though you are "I never have. Not with you. I have never stopped wanting you since we last parted, and I still do, fully and desperately."
If there is a thing you can always count on with Mihawk, it is him being sincere. "Then won't you stay with me?" you ask, holding out your hand towards him; you have always found it degrading for a woman, for any person actually, to beg for that sort of companionship, but this is what you are doing, you are begging him to take you in his arms and make you forget, at least for a little while, and you feel no shame or embarrassment, because you know that he, a proud and severe man, will not judge you "I need you, Mihawk. Please, don't leave me."
Your crutch, that the doctor (reluctantly) gave you permission to use to move around instead than using a wheelchair, is leaning against the wall next to your deck-chair, but before you can reach for it Mihawk's arms slip behind your back and under your bent knees, and a moment later he's crossing the terrace door and then the parlour, you firmly but gently held in his arms.
"Mihawk, put me down! I can walk..."
"You clearly can't." he reasonably points out, a trace of amusement in his voice "And don't worry, you're light."
You don't remember ever being held like this since you were a very young child, and you immediately decide you like it, both because you can feel his heart beating, much faster than normal, against yours, and because the proximity allows you to kiss him, which you avidly do, your arms circling his neck. You feel nothing but desire and joy and relief as you cling to Mihawk, pouring your very soul in each kiss, not stopping even as you push your bedroom's door open to let him carry you inside.
You need him. Because you are hurt and weak and scared and he is the only one you feel able to receive comfort from, but there is more to it; he is part of you, in a way you would be unable to explain but that you cannot ignore. In the solitude of your heart, you know it to be true, and it scares you, but you are not sorry for it.
Mihawk delicately lays you down on your bed, next to the little table cluttered with medicines and bandages, mindful of your broken leg. He takes his plumed hat off, his eyes trained on you as he leaves it on a nearby chair, and then places Yoru against the nearby wall. "I thought I would never see you again." he murmurs; he doesn't elaborate, keeping silent on the thoughts and emotions that belief elicited in him. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to, but that is all right, because you can perceive what he feels and thinks all the same; looking in his eyes is enough. "I... I missed you very much."
He doesn't know how much of a treasure those words are to you; which means, you immediately decide, you'll have to show him.
"And I you."
You quickly untie the knots of your dress, but then you stop, enraptured as you observe Mihawk undressing. He is not exactly putting on a show for you, but judging from the smirk adorning his face, he is more than aware of the effect he has on you. His long coat is the first to go, then his dagger necklace, his boots, his pants and what he wears underneath. Soon he is naked as the day he was born, and he joins you on the bed, slowly advancing like a predator moving towards his next meal. "Are you ready for me, woman?" he whispers, and you smile, confident you can play his game and even beat him at it.
"Maybe you're the one who is not ready for me."
Still, your self-confidence lasts only a few seconds, until you have awkwardly slipped the lower half of your dress from under your ass and taken it off, leaving him free to observe your abused, weakened body. You wait, anxious like a young soldier being inspected by a superior officer, afraid of what you could see in his eyes.
"Don't pity me." you warn him softly as you welcome him in your embrace "I have been lucky."
Mihawk sighs, as if understanding your motives but reticent to accept them; he gently lowers you on the bed, propping himself with his elbow next to your face. "I wish I could make them all pay." he whispers, his free hand gently caressing the bruises, wounds and scars scattered on your skin, the tenderness of his touch enough to bring tears to your eyes. "More than anything else... I wish I was there to help you. To protect you. I know you can take care of yourself..."
"I clearly can't."
"You know what I mean. You saved yourself in the end, did you not? (name), I wish I could make it all go away."
He can't, not really, and you both know it; still, you can smile, as you take his face in your hands, and feel his desire pressed against your tight. "Kiss me." you answer "And hold me tight. That will be enough."
He doesn't answer, but Mihawk has always been the sort of man who lets his action speaks for him, and thank the Gods, actions is exactly what you need now. You sigh, finally relieved, as he kisses you again, your mouths chasing each other as your hands explore the heavy, warm body above yours, your single night together, by now a year ago, enough to make you remember what he liked and what gave him pleasure. Mihawk pants as he feels your fingers caress his smooth chest, lingering for a moment to tease his nipples, and then descend towards the firm roundness of his ass; you grasp at it, greedily kneeding his flesh, and his hips quake. "(name)..." he murmurs, his tone reverent and almost worshipful; you are in awe, moved and grateful you see in his eyes the same emotions that fill your heart "(name), how... how I have missed you..."
"Tell me what you want, Mihawk." you invite him; it is his comfort you crave, the passion and pleasure of your lovemaking to forget at least for a while you will never have a family of your own, but that doesn't mean you don't want him to find joy in it "I want to make you feel good."
Again, he needs no words to express his intentions. He grins before moving to lie on one side next to you, your legs interwined; you are still kissing passionately as his hand moves yours to his hard cock, that you happily caress and tease while Mihawk is greedily sucking on your neck.
"You'll leave a bruise." you laugh; you can't wait to feel him inside you, and at the same time this is enough, the intimacy of feeling him close, not to protect you or to assure you you are still valuable and whole after what was done to you, but simply to know he cares "And everyone will know what I, we, have been up to."
"Good." is Mihawk's curt reply, and a moment later he is nuzzling your cleavage, his tongue lapping at the soft flesh of your breasts. He makes sure you are looking at him before capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and even gently biting until you have to press an hand to your mouth, that a moment later Mihawk decisively takes off. "Don't." he orders.
"But..."
"Don't hold back. Scream if you want. Make the whole fortress hear, let your people know what their pretty lady is doing. Let all the men on this island know they have no chance."
Of all the things you could have imagined, Mihawk being possessive, even jealous, of you, would have been the last of the list. But you like it, you immediately decide, you like it a lot, so much that you lift his gaze towards yours with an hand under his chin, while the other grasps at his cock with enough force to make him quiver, and you see pure, raw pleasure explore in his gaze.
"I don't want other men." you confess; it is way too early in your relationship (assuming that he actually wants one; you know you do, and the disappointment would break your heart) for promises and commitment, but you know you'll never regret uttering those words "I only want you. All of you. Take me, Mihawk; I'm yours, whatever you want you can do it to me."
The sound Mihawk makes after hearing your words is not a moan nor a grunt, rather a growl, and when your eyes meet once more you know that he couldn't stop even if he wanted. He doesn't need to, fortunately, and you smile as you lift your hips, careful not to put your weight on your broken leg, and let him take off your panties. The moment you are finally naked in front of him, ready and so eager, you see him lick his lips as he lifts your good leg to wrap it around his hips. He kisses you once more, intense and devout and hungry, and a moment later you feel him push against you, and your body opens like the petals of a flower to welcome him inside.
The moment you are finally one, so close and intimately linked, the relief filling your body is so intense you could weep for it; you can feel his heart beat against your chest, and it is lovely, it is so amazing, because it beats jointly with yours. Mihawk's forehead rests against yours, his hand still caressing your hair.
He is smiling. "Now you're mine." he whispers, in what is both a claim and a promise; and then he starts moving.
*****
It is a good thing that he arrived in the morning, you reflect as you lazily caress Mihawk's chest, since you are free to enjoy the intimacy and closeness between you until it lasts, without having to waste time sleeping. You are lying on your back, pleasantly surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, and it is as if the world outside your bedroom had disappeared; another gun, that you chose to replace your lost derringer even though it doesn't carry the same personal value, is hidden under your pillow. You seem to remember you had some important task to carry out today, the opening of a new school or a meeting with some council member or other, but you are not sure, and for the first time in your life you don't care.
"Does your mother know about me? About us?" Mihawk asks after a while; he is lying on your right side, so as not to bump into your broken leg, and he has yet to let you go, his strong arms firmly encircling your shoulders and waist. Despite the intensity of his desire, he has been gentle with you, as you needed in your state but more than you wanted him to; still, you feel pleasantly sore, your body tired but content and satisfied as Mihawk's fervor still warms your skin.
A soft laugh escapes your lips. "Why? Would it embarass you?" you ask back after kissing his chest.
"Not at all. She didn't seem upset when she saw me, but perhaps she disapproves her daughter associating with a pirate."
You assure him that fortunately your mother has never demanded to choose who you made friends (or more) with, especially since you have become an adult. "Also, she wouldn't have the right to judge." you add pensively as you slowly turn on one side to return his embrace "Since she also fell in love with a pirate."
That also escapes your lips without you realizing; Mihawk does.
"Your father?"
"Yes. He... well, he was part of Gold Roger's crew. He was the navigator."
Mihawk's raised eyebrows suggest you have done what perhaps no one else in the world has: taken him by surprise - twice. "You are not joking?"
"Of course not. I hadn't been born yet, of course, but from what my mother told me their ship passed by our island during one of their voyages, and the captain decided to stop for a while to rest and restock provisions." you explain; many people would be excited to hear a first-hand account of a meeting with the famed King of the Pirates, but you have always been much more interested in the man who, in true pirate fashion, stole your mother's heart. "She, who at the time was the heir just like me now, was the one who went to welcome them at the harbour; she met my father, and for ten weeks they were inseparable. On the day the crew was meant to depart, she told him she was pregnant; she knew the sea was his home, and that no matter how much they cared for each other, and how amazing a father he would have been, settling down on land with her would have made him miserable. So she let him go, and they started exchanging letters. When I was little, my mother would read his to me to make me fall asleep; I never met him, but I kept his wanted poster framed in my room. Then he returned, suddenly one day."
Mihawk's fingers begin to move along your leg, tantalizing close to your crotch. "Was it after Roger had died?"
"It was. Apparently, Roger left his crew voluntarily, he wasn't captured as the Marines said; he had relinquished command to his first officer, but a few members of the crew decided to leave it. My father was among them. He didn't expect my mother and me to welcome him with open arms after seventeen years spent living as he pleased, he told us, but he had never stopped thinking and caring about us, and hoped we would give him a chance to prove it. My mother, who by then had succeded her father as ruler of the island, let him stay, with my approval, and so we had a chance to finally bond."
You don't tell him of those years. Of how you gradually got used to your father's presence in your life, where until then he had been just a picture on the wall; of how he slowly, patiently built a relationship with you, learning to know your emotions, your thoughts, your dreams and fears, and how equally little by little you came to trust him, to respect and finally to love him. Of all the things you did together, the quiet, pleasant afternoons spent fishing at the docks, your legs dangling next to his and the sun on your backs, his awe and pride as he saw how talented you were with a gun in your hand (your maternal grandfather had been the first to teach you, like his own had done with him) and capable in your recently started activity as a mercenary, and how he liked dancing with you while your mother played the piano. You don't tell him how happy you felt when he and your mother told you they had decided to pursue a relationship once more, and how proud and excited he was when you told him you were expecting.
You don't. You can't, because it hurts so much, still today, enough to feel your heart bleed. What you are able to share, although with a huge effort, is that one day, nine years ago, a merchant ship reached your island, ostensibly to exchange or sell the goods in its hold. The truth was very different.
"The ship's original crew had been massacred by a band of pirates, who had then stolen vessel and cargo to carry out the captain's plan. My father had been sure no one would recognize him from his past as a pirate; after all our island was so tiny and virtually unknown, and Gold Roger had been so famous few had ever paid attention to his men, especially one who had no special abilities and powers like him. He was wrong; one of the island's rare tourists had recognized him from his old bounty poster, and weeks later he mentioned it to his friends in a tavern. The captain of the pirate crew happened to hear."
"Did he know your father?" Mihawk asks, still holding you tight; he seems genuinely interested in your story, which does please you, but part of you regrets even starting it, spoiling the pleasant moment you were living together... and that you don't know how long will last.
"No, he didn't. The captain wasn't interested in my father personally, he just wanted to find one of Roger's men... and force him to reveal the location of the One Piece." you explain "My father told the captain he didn't know; that Roger had hidden his treasure in a place only he knew, and had brought the secret to his grave. The captain didn't listen; by then, his men had surrounded the fortress and announced we would both be killed had my mother, who had by chance been at the other side of the island when our home had been besieged, ordered the guards to force an entry. He told us he would kill both of us if my father didn't him what he wanted to know... and in the end he did. The pirate shot me, but my father attempted to shield me with his body; he took a bullet in the head for me, and he died, and then a few guards who had disobeyed orders broke into the room, and I got hit in the cross-fire. I survived, but I miscarried; and even though I had no idea, because I kept having my period as usual after that, it was then that... something must have broken inside me, preventing me from getting pregnant ever again. That day I thought I had lost almost all of my family, but I had no idea of how right I had been."
Your tale has ended; you spoke for a few minutes at most, but you feel exhausted, even more than after you had escaped from your captivity and dragged yourself back home. As you expected, discussing the loss of your father and your baby, and the fact that you are destined to never be a mother, has been an agony you would not wish on your worst enemy; last night you have cried yourself to sleep, and you thought the overwhelming, excruciating pain you felt was too much for a person to bear, and you would die from it. Now that you're able to rationally reflect on it, you know you're not going to be so fortunate: you're gonna live, potentially for decades to come, and this pain will never leave you completely.
A sigh escapes your lips. "I am sorry; this is not the sort of topic one should discuss when with... someone special." you quietly admit, and Mihawk grunts in disagreement.
"I think you and me are beyond this sort of things." he points out before kissing you once more, and despite everything, despite how dead inside you feel, the sensation of his tongue against yours is enough to make you tremble. "You didn't deserve it, (name)." Mihawk quietly adds; he can't make it all go away, no matter how dearly you both want it, but those few, apparently impersonal words matter more to you than any I am so sorry or display of sympathy "Nobody does, but you least of all."
"I agree."
You enjoy the quiet and intimacy between you for a few more minutes, sharing lazy kisses and touches that you know you have already developed an addiction for, and that you will never stop craving.
But you have to. At least for a while, because the strength you need to go on you have to find it inside you, and you can't do it if you're tempted to hold onto him.
"How long can you stay?" you murmur a moment after your hand has slipped downward to caress Mihawk's cock, tearing a satisfied moan from his mouth.
Mihawk shrugs. "I have -ah...!- no pressing duties to attend to. I can stay as long as I want." he explains; a moment, and then: "As you want."
"Oh, you're leaving me the choice?"
"This is your home, and your island. I don't want to be the sort of guest who overstays his welcome."
"You never could and you know it." you point out, and you shiver, feeling his fingers gently explore the expanse of your chest and belly; then, thinking that even the worst criminals are granted a twenty-four hours reprieve to put their affairs in order before the sentence is carried out, you propose: "What if I asked to stay until tomorrow at this hour?"
"That would be fine. Why?"
"Because I feel that if you stay longer, I won't be able to let you leave."
Mihawk reflects on your words; he doesn't seem surprised, nor particularly happy, about your proposal. "Then." he begins as he turns to cover your body with his once more; there is sadness in his yellow eyes, but even more, there is trust and warmth, and perhaps even love, even though that could be wishful thinking on your part "I say we relish the time we can spend together while it lasts. What do you say?"
You obviously agree; you take him in your arms and hold him tight, leaving everything else behind - for a little while at least.
*****
This fic is dedicated to @alphaash99 and @skynikan. Thank you for your support, hope you like this!!
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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months
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Fluffcember Day 8 | Little River
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Pairing | Avenger!Fiancé!Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Fiancée!Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff (Platonic)
Word count | 1.2K
Summary | You just found out you're having a baby, but since Loki is away on a long undercover mission you can't tell him about it just yet. Instead, you turn to your best friend, Natasha, to come up with the perfect way to tell Loki you're expecting. Once everything is in place and Loki is back home, you can't wait to reveal the news and see his reaction to your growing family.
Warning(s) | Established relationship ~ Fiancé/Fiancée, mentions of pregnancy, Loki getting the biggest surprise when he comes back from the mission.
A/n | This one-shot is written for day 8 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. Writing for Loki is always a lot of fun for me (and I often wonder why I don't do it more...), so this was a hoot to write! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this as well as helping me with the ideas, I'm happy to have you back! ❤️🎄
Events Masterlist | Sleepy back hugs | @buckys-wintersoldier
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Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner
Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist
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You're sitting on the bathtub's edge with your head in your hands, waiting impatiently for the timer to go off. The box clearly said to wait five minutes for the results, but these same five minutes feel like absolute torture.
And to top it all off, you're currently going through this moment alone because your fiancé, Loki, is on an undercover mission with no way to reach him. The universe's timing couldn't possibly have been worse.
When the alarm finally goes off, you practically launch forward, grabbing the test and looking at the result. Your suspicions are immediately confirmed when the test shows two prominent red lines: you're pregnant.
You can't help but let a sob escape from your chest because while you're thrilled, you're also sad that you can't share this moment with the person you're dying to share this with.
The topic of children hasn't come up too often in your relationship, though the few times it did, you two always came to the same conclusion: as long as you're still Avenging, you won't bring a child into this world.
But this plan has a significant shift, and you might step away from the Avengers sooner than anticipated. It's not that you haven't thought about it, but now that you're officially pregnant, that idea might become a reality.
First things first, though, you'll find Natasha so you can talk things through with her. To make this task easier on yourself, ask the AI for help.
''FRIDAY? Please tell me where Ms. Romanoff is at this moment. I need to talk to her.''
''It appears that Ms. Romanoff is currently in the living room with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. Do you want me to notify her of your arrival?''
''No, thank you,'' you tell the AI before changing into comfortable clothes; you can't exactly go out there in your underwear.
You left the test in your bathroom for now, and you head towards the living room to find Steve and Bucky cuddling on one end of the couch and Nat sitting on the other side, her body turned to them.
They're in the middle of a discussion about the next movie night since it's Steve's turn to pick the movie. He always chooses the same film, and Nat tries to convince him to pick something else, but she might be losing this discussion.
''She'll agree with me, won't you?'' Nat asks as you walk into the living room, and your eyebrows instantly shoot up, seeing how you didn't know what was happening.
''I'm sure I will, but that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to borrow you for a while,'' you say as you point towards Natasha, who gladly gets up to come with you.
''So, what's up?'' she asks when you lead her to your bedroom, where the test is still lying. The closer you get, the more nervous you get, but if there's anyone you trust with this news, it's Nat.
''Well... I- I have some news to share with you,'' you tell her, unsure where to start. She stops you in the hallway and forces you to look at her.
''Are you and Loki doing okay? Did something happen between you two?'' she asks, her brows furrowed in concern, but you quickly assure her that's not the case.
''No, god no! We're okay, we're doing great, actually,'' you say with a big smile, which Nat immediately reciprocates. All her worries instantly melt away, and how she feels about you and Loki is visible.
''But... there will be something changing between us though, and I want to show you exactly what,'' you say, and before you know it, you're in your bedroom, showing her the still very positive pregnancy test.
''Oh my god, I'm going to be an Auntie?! I can't believe it!'' she asks, and you nod your head before he flings herself around your neck, squealing in pure excitement.
When the first excitement finally ebbed away for a bit, you sat down on your bed with the pregnancy test still in your hand, and then the realization came flooding back that you must also tell your fiancé.
''How should I tell him the good news? Because I don't just want to spring this onto him, it's our first baby, so I want to make it special; I want to make it something he will never forget,'' you say, and an idea instantly sparks in Nat's head.
''I have the perfect idea, and you don't need many things for it!'' she says, and that's how the idea of how you're going to tell Loki you're pregnant is formed.
Exactly one week later, Loki returned from his mission, and after his shower, he changed into something comfortable. Now you're cuddling on your shared bed, making up for lost time.
''I love you so much, you know that? I can't believe I had to miss my beautiful wife-to-be for nearly two months...'' he tells you as he places a soft kiss in your hair.
''I missed you too, but I have a little present for you now that you're back,'' you tell him, and you wiggle out of his grasp, ready to grab the gift box you've prepared with Nat over the last week.
You grab an emerald green box with a silver bow around it and hand it to your future husband as you sit cross-legged in front of him. You watch intently as he unwraps it, lifting the lid, and he watches the sides of the box fall open.
Inside are the positive pregnancy test, baby shoes, and your small letter. Loki picks up the pregnancy test, and you can see tears form at his waterline.
''Loki? Is everything-'' ''I'm going to be a Dad?'' he asks in a small voice, accidentally interrupting you mid-sentence.
''Well, how about you read the letter?'' you tell him, and he grabs it, folding it open.
Dear future husband,
When you read this, you already know I am officially three months pregnant with your baby. Our little River will be born around Easter, and I cannot wait to meet them.
I'm very grateful to see our family grow, and I am forever thankful that you have given me the wonderful gift of our bunny. Our family will officially be complete once they're here, and I hope they will be just like you. Perfect in every way.
I love you forever and always.
~ Your future wife
As he reads the letter, you can see a tear or two escaping, trickling down his pale white cheek onto the paper. He reads the letter three, four, maybe five times before putting it down and looking at you.
''I can't believe it, we're going to have a baby!'' he says excitedly, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. He puts the present to the side so you can sit in his lap and cuddle him tightly.
That night, as you two are about to fall asleep, he pulls you with your back against his chest, and you let yourself melt into his touch. His large hand and long fingers are splayed over your belly, fiercely protecting it.
''I love you, hot mama,'' he tells you, and the new nickname has your cheeks heating up. And after exchanging a few more sweet nothings between you, you fall asleep in your future husband's arms.
You could not have wished for a better ending to this perfect day, and now all that's left to do is to wait for your little one to come into this world. But one thing is certain: River will be the perfect addition to your family.
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woso-fan13 · 6 months
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Whumptober 2023: 29 (Arsenal)
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
Your teammates were used to your regressions, and they loved babysitting. There had been countless team bonding nights that ended up with you snuggled in the middle of the group with a cartoon playing. Some of the girls would even invite themselves over when they knew you would be little, claiming that they needed their baby fix. You weren’t going to complain, you loved the attention. 
The only time that they knew you would never regress was at the stadium. You felt very strongly about keeping your work and personal life separate and everyone respected that. You had only been little on the pitch once, and that was a unique situation. You had been sick and regressed, and Beth and Viv weren’t able to justify skipping practice for that, so they settled you in a stroller with a blanket and let you sleep by the bench. You slept like a baby- ironically. 
You were extremely good about sticking to your rule and keeping your regressions away from work. Until you weren’t. 
—-
Practice had been going well. Your team had won during the scrimmage, the weather was lovely, everything was working out. During a water break, you’re talking to some of your friends while digging through your kit bag that you had previously tossed to the side. You had felt your watch buzzing during practice- an indication of multiple texts waiting for you- but you hadn’t had time to look. Finally, your fingers grasp on to the rectangle and pull it out triumphantly. 
Continuing your conversation, you tap the screen and unlock your phone without looking. You keep talking, pulling the messaging app up and looking down. A slew of texts from an unknown number. Puzzled, you begin reading through them. 
Oh. 
You freeze mid-sentence, your brain frozen as you try to process the messages you’ve received. As you try to process that they not only managed to find your number, but that they reached out this much. 
Your teammates must have been concerned by your sudden silence, as they call for Beth and Viv. The two women make their way over, their concern growing as they see you. 
Beth steps up first, a hand reaching out to rest on your arm. 
“Hey, sweetheart, are you alright?”
You look up at her with wide eyes, full of terror. Your mouth moves, desperately trying to find words that would help. No sound comes out. 
Viv walks up at this point, standing beside Beth. Seeing the two of them, tears start filling your eyes. Viv pulls you into a tight hug, Beth wrapping her arms around you. They can feel your heart hammer as your breath shudders. It's silent until they hear a tiny fearful voice. 
“Mama?” it questions. 
Looking down, it’s clear to the two women that you’ve regressed hard and fast. Tears are flowing down your cheeks as you snuffle. Your head is pressed firmly against Viv, the rest of your body shifting to increase contact. 
Viv and Beth know that practice is far from over. They both know that, coming back so recently from injuries, that they can’t really afford to miss sessions. But their maternal instincts are in overdrive as they watch their baby sob. 
Sharing a look, Viv pulls you fully into her grasp, your arms and legs clinging around her. She walks to the far end of the bench, away from the rest of the team, as Beth frantically digs through her bag. She knows that some of your stuff must be in there. 
Digging out a pacifier and your comfort rag, she hurries to join you and Viv. Viv has sat now, but you’re still clinging tightly to her, your chests pressed together. She’s rocking slowly back and forth while cooing to you softly in Dutch. Even though you had no idea what she was saying, it usually calmed you quickly. Not today. 
Beth presses a kiss to the top of your hair before sitting beside Viv. She wants more than anything to pop your dummy in and watch as you suckle. Your breathing would slow as your eyes drifted shut. But she doesn’t want to, not yet. If they can figure out what’s causing your distress and fix it quickly, it’s not impossible that all three of you could soon return to practice. 
Unfortunately, their usual tactics don’t work. Giving in slightly, Beth passes you your comfort rag. You slam it sloppily to your face. While this is usually a cure-all, it doesn’t stop your tears. 
Sharing a look, they decide to break out the big guns. Beth pulls the rag away from your face just enough to slip your dummy between your lips. Now they can just wait. 
The repetitive motion does soothe you, quieting your sobs slightly. You’re still nowhere near where you usually are. 
All hopes of returning to practice have vanished long ago. Now, your mums are simply desperately trying to calm you enough to get you home without you making yourself sick. It was sure to be a long day. 
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cannonsoupforthesoul · 5 months
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Sing For Me Lovely
By Cannonsoupforthesoul
This is my first time ever posting my own work, it’s 100% brainrot smut. These characters are mine and have no relation whatsoever to any other character or person living or dead 🩷🖤 I do not own the graphic art you see below, if you are the owner and would like it taken down please send me a dm🩷🖤
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Content Warnings: TW-NonCon, TW- Kidnapping,TW- Dubcon, TW- Bondage, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, D/S vibes, Yandere vibes, Obsession, Cuss Words Are Used, Masochist Vibes, Blood/Minor Gore(?)
Word Count - 1678
Copyright @Cannonsoupforthesoul aka me, Aava 2023. Any illegal reproduction of this content will result in immediate legal action.
🌙
Her toes twitched and flexed, legs flung over his shoulders with his broad hands shackled around her thighs. She couldn’t bear to look down and see his dark eyes peering up at her, never once stopping his pointed assault on her pussy.
He’d taken her somewhere, but there were no clues in the dimly lit room. The dark oppressive curtains were drawn shut and the bay window was too far away from the bed. Of course, that was ignoring the fact that she was handcuffed to the headboard. But thinking about that was too stressful, too frightening.
Books lined the exposed brick wall in towering bookshelves amidst gothic art and mirrors on the wall opposite her, a velvet jade loveseat sat in front of the window. There was even a dark wood coffee table, a tv, and a giant black and white photo was hung above the bed.
A studio apartment, or a large bedroom?
Did it even matter?
Iris felt her eyes roll back when her captor laid a particularly rough swipe of his tongue on her pearl, the beads of his tongue piercing pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves before he sucked the throbbing organ into his mouth. It felt like his was trying to devour her, the sounds of his appreciative groans sang in her ears to the soundtrack of her handcuff chains clanging with her struggling. Tears dripped a path to her hairline as she bit her lip, breaths heavy but desperate to hold in her own sounds of pleasure.
He paused his ministrations, finally relaxing his bruising grip on her meaty thighs and rose from his crouch with a delirious smirk and heart eyes.
“Don’t cry, pretty baby. I’m just gonna make you feel good. The best you’ve ever felt. Think of it as a welcome home, yeah?” He leaned over her, balancing his weight on one hand, shirtless and incredibly broad. His size was simply terrifying; in all her life she’d never seen a man whose presence alone was so daunting. He didn’t need to be so fucking huge as well, there was simply no chance of escaping such a monster. Not in her current predicament.
He swiped his thumb through the tracks of her tears and paused before rubbing the salty taste against her full lips as his eyes lost focus again.
“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he murmured dazedly. “Like a fairy.” His thumb paused its stroke across her bottom lip and he groaned deeply before thrusting it into her mouth, pressing it against her tongue as he panted.
She’d been on the verge of pissing herself in fear since the moment he’d appeared like a shadow in that alley, and there was no telling what he would do with her once he got tired of playing with her body, but that was the moment she snapped. Iris bit down savagely, and didn’t stop even when blood began to gush from the wound she’d created. Mouth bloody, she glared at him fiercely while waiting for him to retaliate.
He did not.
His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned, pressing his hips flush against hers with a roll; that creepy adoring smirk ever present. “Maybe more like a wild cat than a fairy, but what do I know?” He gripped her jaw firmly, just enough to extricate his thumb before she bit it off entirely. “Maybe you’re a goddess in human flesh? Let me worship you.”
Iris trembled while he slithered down her body, leaving hot wet kisses against the tops of her breasts, then more and more on her soft belly as he went until he’d settled between her thighs again.
“I understand why you’re fighting me; you’re afraid. It makes sense, but I would never hurt you. I’d rather slit my own throat. You’re safe with me, I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Then let me go,” she finally broke her stubborn silence. “Please, please just let me go!”
He grinned wide, revealing longer than average incisors and a scar at the left corner of his mouth that stretched a bit with the movement . His black hair was tied back in a bun at the nape of his of his neck, errant strands clung to his face where her slick had been plastered to his dimpled cheeks during his meal. He was of Asian descent, a veritable giant and built like an athlete. She wouldn’t admit it either, but he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. Covered in tattoos and piercings and somehow, by some cruel twist of fate, exactly her type.
He held her gaze captive as he lifted her legs and placed her thighs on his shoulders, forcing her to rest her shoulders on the bed while he supported the rest of her weight with his hands holding her hips up to his watering mouth while he sat up with his legs folded.
“W-wait!” She stammered desperately through a flood of more tears. “You didn’t even tell-tell me your name you bastard.”
He just chuckled distractedly, cheeks flushed red with excitement. “It’s Shota honey. Remember to sing it real loud for me, yeah?”
With that he went back to work, savoring every inch of her sex. The sounds he made were animalistic, licking at her hole until he could fuck it with his tongue, until her wetness poured freely. She squirmed but there was nowhere to go. Her breath came in quick pants, already over sensitive from from the hour he’d already spent eating her pussy. Breathless whimpers broke free despite her efforts to stay silence once more.
Shota had doubled his efforts, as if his meal might be snatched away from him any minute and made Iris shriek when he began supporting her hips with one arm while his other hand slid toward her beckoning heat. He released his suction on her clit with a pop to the enrapturing chorus of her first clear resounding moans and French kissed her cunt lips with a gleeful smile.
“That’s it lovely, just let me see you feeling good. Can you do that for me? You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell. What about this, how’s that?” He murmured against the flesh of her thigh, and sucked the flesh into his mouth hard while he slid his forefinger into the furnace between her thighs with a groan of his own.
Iris shook against the bed, her feet kicking at the sudden sensation and fluttered again when his thumb rolled over her clit. It was too good, so much better than all the times she’d ever touched herself. Her fingers were never long enough, and silicone was really just plastic, she’d never quite figured out how to use them to their full potential and didn’t bother trying when her hands did the job just fine. He was the real thing, and there was no ignoring that.
“You can take another,” the pussy drunk giant grunted as he replaced his thumb with his tongue and thrust two fingers in oh so slowly. He shuddered as his fingers traversed her silky heat, scissoring his fingers while still ministering to her clit and labia with his desperate seeking mouth.
Iris twitched and whimpered at the onslaught of intense pleasure. She couldn’t think anymore, there was no escaping this moment and she had no choice but to resign her self to be pleasured until she was a mindless quivering puddle.
Time seemed to stop for a moment when Shota’s knuckles hit a small spongey bean in his path within her creamy walls. A wicked cackle immediately bellowed out of him, and with a sinister grin he returned with three fingers. Thrusting fast and deep, angling towards her g-spot.
“Sh-shot-ta! Shota, Shota!” She chanted his name, not even noticing when he lowered her body back onto the bed since he never stopped fucking his fingers into her. The squelch of her slick as it dripped down his hand to his forearm was like the melody in the background of her beautiful voice as she moaned.
“Sing for me honey, you sound so fucking good. Let me hear you.”
Her eyes had closed in their own at some point, but they flew open when a hot mouth latched onto her left nipple. He’d pushed her right thigh up to meet her chest, one big hand holding it up while he rested his weight on his other elbow to give him access to her bare chest.
Kidnapping her had taken months of planning and waiting, but the moment he had her in this room he hadn’t been able to wait before cutting through her clothes and feasting on her gorgeous breasts. She’d woken up after he’d spent the better part of two hours suckling and biting at her chest by that time he’d moved on to her lower half, but her nipples were still sore and hyper sensitive.
Shota ground his hips against the bed, sucking harder, groaning at the taste of her skin and the feeling of her hole fluttering erratically around his thrusting fingers.
The burning coil in Iris’s belly had wound tight as he worked her closer and closer to her orgasm, it felt like anything at all would set her off. Every thrust of his fingers fanned the flames of her approaching climax, and just when she began to grow impatient Shota pressed down hard on her clit and bit down on her nipple, hard.
Iris squirted with a scream, eyes rolling blindly while she babbled incoherently, “Shhh- sshhho- shhhhh…” Her feet kicked wildly when he dropped back between her thighs once more to taste the fountain of her juices, it didn’t stop as he lapped at her tender sex, or when he suddenly nipped her clit. She kept cumming as he continued the onslaught of pleasure, fingering her while he drank her nectar even when she stopped cumming and until she did twice more.
Iris didn’t move again for a long time after that. She would wake up clean and dressed and disoriented in a button down that dwarfed her smaller frame, Shota’s giant body curled around her like ivy while he watched her with heart eyes and his familiar dazed smile.
Fin.
Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated. I’d love to know what you guys think 🖤 Should I keep posting my work?
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eddiemunsonw · 7 months
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I'm kurtsworld96
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Kurt Kunkle x fem!reader
Summary: You desperately need a car ride, but some bothersome asshole demands to join. Kurt notices your discomfort and well, he takes care of it.
CW/Disclaimer: Sexual harassment (not done by Kurt), murder, I guess there's some cuteness in there but it's layered with mixed feelings
Author's note: I wanted to try writing about Kurt, so this is my first (and possibly only) go at it :)
Words: 2600
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All you needed was a ride. It didn’t really matter where to, as long as it was away from this place. Unfortunately, you had to give up an address. You added a random train station that was about a forty minute drive and left it at that. Soon enough, you got a notification that a Spree car was on his way. 
Driver: Kurt Kunkle. 
Car: White Toyota Prius
As if you knew one car from the other. You waited for about ten minutes which would’ve been fine if Chester, the very person you had wanted to get away from, hadn’t followed you.
“Why’d you leave, huh? We were having fun weren’t we?”
Even though you tried to ignore him, he kept asking questions similar to the first. Grabbed your arm, which you pulled out of his grip immediately. Stepped in front of you whenever you turned away, it was infuriating and also a little scary. Having him stand this close to you made you shiver and it wasn’t even cold outside. You wore a light purple summer dress with pastel sneakers and a black jacket on top that you had only put on to cover yourself from his hungry eyes. Even at two in the morning the air was still humid. 
Once the car arrived, you let go of a relieved sigh. The guy lowered his window and frowned as he spotted you both.
“Just you, right?” he asked you, turning his phone around to show you your own photo. You nodded. “Just me,” you said quickly. Chester shook his head and stopped forward.
“No, me as well. My silly girlfriend forgot to add me.” You quickly evaded the arm he tried to put around you.
“I’m not your girlfriend. Chester,” you hissed and you noticed that Kurt was listening to you attentively.
“Uhm, you’ll have to book one separately then,” Kurt told Chester. “You can go sit in the front.”
YOU NEVER LET SOMEONE SIT IN THE FRONT. WHAT IS THIS?!
Kurt’s eyes were upon you and you nodded hesitantly before walking over to the passenger side and getting in. Chester had sent a request by now which Kurt accepted and then told him to sit behind you.
“What’s wrong with the other side?”
“Someone vomited earlier today. You won’t smell it, but I wouldn’t want it to get on your clothes.”
“Alright, thanks dude. Hey, what’s up with all the cameras?”
You had noticed those too. You think you counted about six to eight cams, but it was dark so it was a little hard to be sure. Kurt smiled and pointed at his phone in front of him.
“I’m streaming for my fans! I’m kurtsworld96. You should follow me if you haven’t yet, there’s gonna be so much c-cool content!” His smile was a little reserved and almost shy. You smiled to yourself, relaxing a little now that you weren’t alone with Chester. However, once Kurt started to drive, you felt Chester’s hand glide up your leg from behind the chair, squeezing the fat of your thigh as he tried to pull your legs apart.
“Chester, stop it.”
LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE GETTING A PRIVATE SHOW KUNKIE
Kurt gnawed on his lip and sighed.
“No PDA in my car please.”
“Oh come on, what are you, a virgin?”
Kurt rolled his eyes.
“As you guys know I’m definitely not a virgin. I have a lot of experience with the P in V. But even if you haven’t, it’s okay guys. No need to feel embarrassed, it’s 2023, no one needs to lose their virginity at fourteen by a hooker because they lost a bet anymore.”
It took you a minute to realize he was talking to his audience.
“Jeez dude,” Chester laughed, “that’s so fucking specific you have to be talking from experience. Sorry dude.”
Not wasting more time, his hand pushed up under your jacket to fondle your boob and you pushed off his hand.
“Stop it! Please can we stop? I want to get out. Please keep him inside though.”
“Sorry ma’am, if I cancel the trip or change the route I might lose my five star streak. I can’t afford losing my five star streak. Sorry.”
At least he sounded mildly apologetic. Chester pulled back slightly but you knew it was only a matter of time before he would get his hands on you again.
“What do you guys think of this beat? Pretty cool right?” Kurt asked amidst an awkward silence. Chester snorted.
“If you like trash.”
“It’s nice,” you countered. Kurt smiled at you quickly before his eyes focused on the road again.
“I made it myself!”
“These are nice,” Chester mumbled as he tried to grab your thighs again.
“Chester I swear to—”
DO SOMETHING ALREADY, THIS IS BORING
“There’s free water in the back, by the way,” Kurt announced matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t just interrupt you. You weren’t thirsty, at all, but once again Chester removed his hands which was a blessing.
“If you think I’ll pretend I like your beats because you offered me free water, you’re mistaken,” Chester shrugged as he grabbed a bottle. “You want some babe?”
“No.”
A frown deepened on your face when you realized you weren’t the only one who declined. Kurt however, remained a neutral expression.
“Weirdo,” Chester mumbled under his breath as he twisted the cap and took a sip.
“Wait… where are we?” you asked softly. Only now you realized that you were driving on a dirt road, not a building in sight.
“Oh, this is a quicker route. Lots of roadblocks recently.”
It was them when Chester started to have a coughing fit, one that seemed unstoppable. You didn’t bother to turn around, found any sound coming out of him extremely annoying as it was. Suddenly, he clawed at your shoulders as he gasped for air.
 SHE IS NOT GONNA LIKE YOU KILLING HER FRIEND KURTLE
“They’re not even friends,” Kurt mumbled. You barely heard Kurt’s comment as you turned around to tell Chester to cut it out. However once you laid eyes upon him you noticed he was grasping his neck, already turning a little blue. Blindly you reached for Kurt’s shoulder, who grabbed the steering wheel a little tighter.
“He’s not well, I think he’s choking! Kurt? Stop the car!” It seemed as if Kurt wasn’t even listening to you. He hummed along to the beat, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and seemed to laugh softly after checking his phone. Your pleas fell on deaf ears. As much as you despised Chester, you didn’t exactly wish the guy dead or anything! 
Chester grasped Kurt’s shoulder but soon fell back against the backseat unconscious without Kurt even moving an inch.
“Should’ve listened when I said no PDA. Should’ve stopped touching her.” Kurt sighed, sounding a little tired even. You watched Kurt silently as you heard him thank a viewer for a tip they gave him.
“Hell yeah kittycat69, human rights. Justice for women.”
A repeating sound signaled he was receiving more tips.
“Thanks guys, means a lot. And hey, if you haven’t yet, subscribe to my youtube account as well! It’s under the same name, kurtsworld96. See you there!”
You slowly removed your gaze from Kurt and looked back at Chester. Was he… unconscious or…? You decided to ask, although you found yourself stumbling over the easiest words. 
“Did you— Did— Is he?!”
Kurt gave you a sideway glance.
“Dead? Yeah.”
“H-How?!” You glanced at the bottle next to Chester’s limp hand and slowly sat back in your seat, eyes on Kurt’s much too calm expression, considering he just murdered someone.
“The water… that’s why you said no?” 
Kurt nodded.
“Yup. You were nice,” he responded casually, adding even the tiniest hint of a smile.
“Do you always kill people who aren’t?!” you asked incredulously. Kurt shrugged indifferently, spared you a short glance again. He always averted his eyes when you met them. You were honestly wondering how you even managed to look him in the eye right now. A murderer. You were in the passenger seat of a murderer. It made you wonder why you hadn’t even bothered to try and open the door. Maybe because you felt frozen in place, or maybe because somehow, you didn’t feel threatened just yet. Very confusing, considering the dead body behind you.
“Sometimes. It’s good for the views.”
“You kill people… for views?! How do you even get away with that?”
Kurt said nothing. Just took a turn towards what seemed to become an even more off-road journey than you had already been on.
DO SOMETHING JEEZ
“I’m going to die too, huh?” you asked softly. Kurt stilled his drumming fingers for a moment, glanced at you again and you found his gaze lingering when you looked away first this time.
“That’s usually how it goes,” Kurt mumbled softly. He sighed to himself and opened a pack of gum with one hand.
“Want one?”
“No thanks.” After the water, you couldn’t risk it.
Kurt shrugged and popped a piece of gum in his own mouth and put the rest back into his pocket. Oh. So not everything in this car was murderous, huh.
MAKE HER CRY
“I don’t want to.”
“You don’t want to kill me?”
“No, I don’t want to make you cry. My fans want me to make you cry.”
“Oh.”
HOW ABOUT YOU FINISH WHAT HE STARTED?
“What are they saying now?” you asked, unable to hide your curiosity about what those twisted people were on about.
“They say I should finish what he started.”
When you automatically made yourself smaller and tried to move your body as far away from him as possible, he shook his head.
“I’m not going to, that’s insane.”
You choked out a dry laugh.
“That’s… interesting coming from someone who just murdered someone.”
“That’s justice! Hurting you wouldn’t be justice.”
Words failed to come to mind, so you tried to focus on how to get out of this situation alive. You didn’t think you really stood a chance, if you were honest. Kurt was unpredictable. Didn’t even blink when he offered Chester the water. There was no way to anticipate his next move.
You had no idea where you were when Kurt stopped the car and looked at you.
“Don’t move.”
YOU SHOULD HAVE PRETENDED TO LET HER GO AND MAKE HER RUN FOR HER LIFE. THAT’S A SHOW WE WANT TO SEE
Your eyes remained closed as you listened to Kurt dragging out Chester’s body and dumping it somewhere. There was no way you could stomach any of it and maybe, if your eyes were closed, you didn’t have to add another handful of traumatic images to your memory. For as long as you’d have said memory at least.
When Kurt joined you back in the car again he drove off right away. There was a prolonged moment of silence until Kurt turned on some other, calmer music.
WHEN ARE YOU GONNA KILL HER? I HAVE WORK TOMORROW
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to but… I don’t know what else to do.”
MAKE HER YOUR BITCH
“Stop with the condescending talk, man, that’s so uncool. You gotta have respect if you want respect.”
YOU’RE A PUSSY. CAN’T EVEN GET LAID UNLESS ITS A HOOKER, LOSER
“I’M NOT— I’m not a loser.” Kurt said, breathing heavily. His hands shook a little and for whatever miraculous reason, you felt bad for him.
“Why do you even like this stuff if they’re all so mean?” you asked. You had tuned in on your phone on silent to see the comments. If Kurt thought you’d call for help, it surely didn’t bother him. Or maybe he happened to have incredible insight into human behavior and knew you weren’t going to call anyone. Maybe he knew you didn’t have much to lose, just like he did.
“I want to do something meaningful. You know, make a name for myself. I thought I’d do something like a day in the life of a Spree driver but everyone found it boring. And most people I get in my car are rude, so I thought, win-win, right? I kill them for justice, and I get views. But they’re still saying it’s boring. No one really watches my youtube videos though. I think most views are just me. I don’t want to buy views because I want to be authentic. T-The real Kurt. It took me a while to find him, you know? Kurt.”
YOU’RE DEPRESSING STOP THE LIVE
MAKES ME WANNA GAUGE MY EYES OUT AND STAB MY EARDRUMS
YOU’RE SO LAME LOSERBOY
(Y/N) just followed you
Kurt turned his head to the side, eyes wide with shock. This was the most emotion you’d seen on him aside from his earlier slip up.
“Y-You followed me?”
“Yeah. Sounds like you just need a little support,” you mumbled. You meant it. As twisted as everything he was doing was, you could sense that he wasn’t inherently bad. He wasn’t a psychopath, rather than a broken guy with no support system. Blame it on your savior complex, but the line you usually reserved for fictional characters, you just applied to him. I could fix him.
Not fix him entirely, probably. But maybe, maybe if you showed him kindness, he could see that there were more ways to achieve his goals than resort to horrible measures. It was difficult to explain and if you ever made it out of this car alive, you probably wouldn’t tell a soul. You just wanted to try.
“Thanks, that means a lot, Y/N! Will you watch my videos?”
“I’ll watch them all if I… well, survive.”
THIS IS THE WEIRDEST LIVE I’VE EVER BEEN ON
SO FUCKING DESPERATE
SHE’S JUST SAYING SHIT SO YOU DON’T KILL HER
KILL HER ALREADY
DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE IN LOOOOVE LOSERBOY
FUCK HER THEN KILL HER
OR KILL HER THEN FUCK HER
Kurt read through all the comments and bit his lip hard enough for it to bleed. You stayed silent as you read along, noticed the many insults he received and the twisted things people wanted him to do while they probably sat in the comfort of their own bedroom, unaffected. Suddenly, the screen went black.
kurtsworld96 ended the livestream
When you looked up, he was already looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. He seemed to struggle with what to say, which seemed surprising with how talkative he seemed earlier, talking about his dreams.
“You stopped the live?” you asked softly, unsure what was going to happen now. Kurt nodded, averted his eyes again.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask.
“I think there are some things… that I don’t want everyone to see.”
Before you could ask what he meant, you felt his warm hand enclose yours. He was a little sweaty, even. You froze, but he made no move to do anything else. Hesitantly, you moved your hand around, making him flinch and nearly pull his hand away until he felt your hand gently squeeze his. There was no way this was normal, but then again, had you ever been normal? Kurt relaxed in his seat, his thumb moving to caress your hand in silence. You allowed yourself to take a good look at him. His dark brown hair, though it could use some styling, framed his face nicely after running his hand through it. His lips a rosy pink. Eyes a warm hazel.
There was something about him and for some reason, you wanted more.
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whumpees · 16 days
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My dearest (2023) whump list
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Synopsis: Yu Gil Chae is a pretty, bubbly, and a bit spoiled young lady who's called the 99 tailed fox of Neunggun-ri. She is also a bit of an outcast because other young ladies are jealous of her. They seem to think she's too straightforward and her behavior is inappropriate for a young lady, while young noblemen think highly of her. Gil Chae knows how to get men to fall for her but fails to capture the heart of the person she likes. Lee Jang Hyun is a mysterious man who suddenly appears in the Neunggun-ri social scene. Nobody really knows anything about him. Young nobles don't like him, but the elderly are wrapped around his finger. He's been dating around a lot, but he becomes curious about a certain 99 tailed fox, and one day, the said fox quite literally crash lands into his arms. Once war is brewing, the pair finds themselves separated before they could even start to make sense of their feelings.
Whumpee: Lee Jang Hyun played by Namkoong Min
Episodes: 21 (divided into two parts: 10 for the first, 11 for the second)
Very whumpy show damn
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Contains spoilers
Ep1: flash forward: the show starts out with the male lead on the shore covered in blood and panting holding his sword and an army of people waiting to charge at him :: slashed in the arm, somebody wraps his wound
Ep5: everyone paying attention to their injuried love interest and rushing to help him but the male lead is standing there watching them with blood dripping from his arm but no one is paying attention to him (my baby boy 😭) :: Later female lead is arguing and screaming at him and he just leaves her but then she notices the blood on his hand and commands he sits down and wraps his wound and says it's severe and not gonna heal easily so he needs to rest for a month :: Blood through his bandage :: Someone throws something at his face & the cut drips blood on the ground
Ep6: contracts a disease but is unaware, later while waking he puts his hand on his head and sways (dizzy or a headache), coughs up blood, fighting with the enemies, slashed in the side, "from this point, nobody is getting past me" (HE'S FIGHTING WHILE SICK to protect fl), fought dozens of soldiers and when there's just one remaining he's finally getting weak and has blurry vision and gets slashed in the back
Ep7: his enemy pushed him and he falls down in pain, laying on the ground, somebody kills the enemy for him, the fl is near him but she doesn't see him!!! Fuck. he cries then passes out on the ground alone in the forest, wakes up on the ground, panting and trying to get up and is weak, walking unsteadily, waving to his friends that he's there then passes out and falls down, unconscious in bed and being tended to, woke up
Ep8: having a conversation with fl and he was reaaaally hurt by her words he started tearing up and was about to cry :: In a prison cell
Ep10: crying and hurt (he acts hurt so well)
Ep11: rememberd fl and cried (seriously i love it when this actor cries he depicts so much emotion in his face and this scene was adorable)
Ep12: sword pointed at his neck leaving a cut :: Tearing up while telling a personal story to someone
Ep13: crying in shock and absolutely heartbroken (I'm a sucker for this man's tears)
Ep14: hit on the head and knocked down, tries to move but ends up passing out, woke up startled, gets up immediately and kinda unsteady :: Tearing up :: Crying again :: On his knees begging to be punished instead of fl and saying he's ready to do anything or even be a servant for the rest of his life to let her go (bear in mind this is not like him 😳 so it means it shook his core to see fl humiliated like that) :: Shot in the back by an arrow to protect fl, passes out on top of her, unconscious in bed, tended to by his friend and fl, wakes up
Ep15: wakes up and caresses female lead's face then passes out again and his hand drops, wakes up, lifts his head and smiles and it causes him pain :: Pretends to still be passed out so fl doesn't leave :: Fl takes care of him while he's still pretending to be unconscious and she sees his scars :: Pretends to limp & collapse & be in pain :: His friend tells him to not pretend to be in pain but this time he actually is in pain
Ep16: unwrapping his bandages :: Wants to cry :: Teary eyes :: Teary eyes again
Ep17: teary eyes
Ep18: crying :: Hit over the head and collapses unconscious and his friend catches him but he also gets hit and they both fall to the ground :: Walking blindfolded and swaying (hasn't recovered from the blow to his head), in a prison cell hands tied and blood on his face :: Interrogated and kinda dazed while answering and looks weak, beaten :: Blood A LOT of blood dripping from his face, more beating, collapses, passes out :: On the ground bloody and helpless trying to reach out to the ring the fl gave him :: Put on a cart while blindfolded and unconscious and drops the ring (gosh i love when their hands are extended out when their unconscious it showed in multiple scenes in this ep), carried out of the cart and put among a pile of the dead, fl finds him and lifts the blindfold and ooff he's SOAKED in blood it looks so good, shakes him to wake up but he doesn't, half opens his eyes and reaches out to grab her clothes but doesn't have the strength to
Ep19: she helps him to walk by supporting him by his arm but is basically dragging him cuz he's unconscious, 2 ppl holding him by the arms, put to bed in fl's house, half awake briefly and back to unconscious, doc checks his pulse and gestures that he's in hopeless situation, coughs while unconscious, trying to get him out of the house cuz soldiers are looking for him and again grabbed by the arm to walk and is unconscious, ryang eum takes him on a horse and runs away, unconscious in bed, nursed, having a traumatic flashback and fighting in his sleep, woke up and doesn't remember anyone (for fuck's sake this is so unnecessary), pulse checked while asleep :: Awake and ok, fl feeds him, head pain :: Again having flashbacks in his sleep :: More flashbacks and head pain, fl feeds him (he's baffled bc of the attention he's getting from her cuz he still doesn't remember 😂) :: Fl tends his injuries, has a lot of big bruises (also he's now very shy when she touches him he screamed at her to stop 😂) :: Starts getting his memories back and flashbacks from when he was beaten and his head hurts, rememberd fl
Ep20: crying out of happiness (it's a beautiful scene) :: Knife pointed at his neck
Ep21: emotional confrontation with his dad and cries :: Cries again :: Finally back to the very first scene in ep 1 where dozens of people are trying to kill him, crying, getting up with difficulty, unsteady, blood dripping from him, collapses on one leg, status unknown but someone he's probably dead cuz he was bleeding a lot :: Flashback: It's night time and he's still walking on the beach while injured, staggering, passes out and falls on the ground, found by an old man, lost his memories again (is the author actually insane?), crying :: Crying reaally hard at the end
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Extra: not whump but the relationship between Jang Hyun and Ryang Eum is adorable 😭 In ep 9 jang hyun says that he doesn't belong on anyone's side, then ryang eum says to him while he's sleeping: "you don't belong to anyone, but i belong to you" and moves jang hyun's arm to sleep on it 😭😭😭 and in ep 11 ryang eum watches a slave being punished and looks at jang hyun with a horrified and pleading expression and without having to say a word jang hyun immediately stops them from punishing the slave just cuz his friend was hurt by it even tho he normally wouldn't give a shit 😭😭😭 that scene was so freaking adorable 😭 he always cares if the people he loves care. And in episode 15 he was crying his eyes out bc jang hyun got injured and was fighting with fl to nurse him 😂😂😂
(Ok i had my suspicions especially after ep 14 where the old man told ryang eum that jang hyun only considers him as a younger brother and "not to be greedy" but after ep 15 I'm now pretty positive it's not platonic anymore dude has feelings 😂 his jealousy was annoying it got in the way صورم انا اول مرة اشوف راجل بصورم 😒)
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scotts-takes · 4 months
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"Black Out See Saw" is the Climax Alkaloid Deserved
Top Songs from Enstars 2023 Number 1
I was blown away when the album art for Alkaloid was released a few months ago...
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This art is such a sharp contrast from their first album art, that shows how they have grown. The basic military style unit outfits have been replaced with regal commander-style ones. The basic emotions that are shown in the original are now much more refined- in particular, Aira has evolved from someone simply happy to be on a stage to someone who is confident in his place on it, Mayoi is putting himself more in center, and Hiiro's confident smirk has become more stoic, as he now has the experience to go with his skills.
All of this went away, however, when we actually got the Alkaloid Climax song...
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Sigh...it was the seasonal Halloween event for the year. Yes, the idea of incorporating hospital/illness and Tatsumi's relationship with it is an interesting story to tell...but Alkaloid deserved so much more, especially as the "Protagonists" for the !! era of Enstars. I was frustrated that the end of this era of Enstars for Alkaloid was wasted on a seasonal event, but was at least able to take solice in that Alkaloid gets 200 chapters of the main story dedicated to them, and we still had solo songs for each character to come from the album. December rolls around, and the album releases. After jumping through hoops to buy it, I throw my headphones on to give the album a listen. The first track, "DiZZineSS" is a weird 30 second preamble with no singing, not something I was expecting. However, it rolls directly into the first new song on the album
Bam
Black Out Sea Saw is a violent wall of sound, unlike anything else that has been done for Enstars before, and I can understand fans not liking it. The reason it sounds so different is because it was produced by TK of Ling Tosite Sigure, a 20+ year going Prog Rock group. I listened to the song 3 times before moving on, and waited for the MV release to come, as is usual with the "B" side track from Albums. And what we got was one of the most well constructed videos for Alkaloid fans, and the climax that I was looking for that wasn't provided by the Halloween song.
The video opens...strangly, especially if you haven't heard the song before. The opening is intentionally choppy and rough, almost like it was an unfinished song that still needed production. There is a weird reverb effect happening- which you can especially hear when Mayoi hits the high note, that led to a friend saying "it sounds like they recorded this in a bathroom or something". The other thing that really jumps out is how robotic and synchronized the movements of all 4 members are. This is a BIG deal. In just about every Alkaloid video, you can find little inconsistencies at various points- Aira is sometimes a bit slow to do something, Hiiro is sometimes a bit too fast, Tatsumi's movements are less athletic, etc. The robotic movements are all in perfect unison, especially at points where characters do things together, like make hand bridges. It's a sign of Alkaloid's growth as a unit- they started as a collection of rejects, and now they haver come together and become a great unit together.
As we go to the first chorus, the intensity of the song ramps up- it becomes FAST, yet every member is in perfect harmony. The dancing becomes more intense- and everyone stays perfect. And then we get to the final line "It's Error-Error", and things start to change- we start to see more finger movement, the motions become more flowing and less robotic (the robots are malfunctioning! error! error!), and more personality is shown by each member.
We then get a wonderful effect of feathers raining from the sky, before, and then we get to see everyone smile, including Hiiro with this soft and expressive look. (that I wish I was able to time slightly better when I took my screenshot!)
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Why is this important? Lets take a look at the first Introduction of Hiiro, in his first close-up in Kiss of Life
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It's a look of focus, of determination, and NOT one of joy. Hiiro NEVER smiles at any point in Kiss of Life except during the SPP- he maintains a focused look the entire time. Additionally, you can look at just about any Alkaloid video, and Hiiro rarely smiles- if anything, he just physically assaults the camera in every one of them! The final chapter of the main story is titled "Smile", which is a discussion between Hiiro and Rinne on what it means to be an idol, and Rinne telling Hiiro "Whenever I see you smile, it makes me smile too", with Hiiro responding that he will do whatever it takes to make people smile
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Hiiro wasn't able to smile in Kiss of Life, as his focus was on putting smiles on the faces of others. It's weird, because when he isn't preforming, a smile is basically plastered on his face permanently. He has a very loud and infectious laugh, and he's just happy to be doing anything at any time. On stage, for him, its different. And Black Out Sea Saw is the first time that Hiiro is able to not just smile, but show kindness in it, as opposed to simple joy or excitement. It's a MASSIVE step forward for him- the kind of thing that, you know, you might build a Climax story around?
And then, we come to the end, where the intensity of the song does not let up, before it all crashes to an end as the lights go dark and Alkaloid go still
To me, this is the Alkaloid Climax, the song that I will remember. They have gone from a group thrown together to a cohesive unit with a sound unlike anyone else in the franchise, and all of whom have had character growth. It's the one that they deserve going into the new era that is upcoming, and even has a level of finality to it, seeing as how it was released right at the end of the year.
Alkaloid deserved better than Undying Holy Love, and boy, did they get it...
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WIBTA for telling the blunt truth to my roommate, that shes immature, irresponsible, and rude?
[-.-] < so I can recognize
so I (20) have three roommates, A(20), B(21 or 22), and C(20). We all attend the same college. I have lived with A for 2 years, but we only started living with B and C in fall 2023. so far there have been some issues, and most of them revolve around interacting with C. C has a cat, and they keep the litterbox in their room of our apartment, so they always have their door open. This itself isnt really a problem, but I feel like its eroding the distinction between common space and their personal space for them. Often when there is another conversation happening at the table or on the couch, C will come out of their room, sit on the couch, and watch loud videos on their phone without headphones. Then, they will hear a small part of our conversation, react in TOTAL shock and awe, demand we recap the last 5-10 minutes of conversation to catch them up, then go right back to their video. On another occasion, I was talking with either A or B as well as C, when C said they were overstimulated and needed some quiet time (no problem with that, it happens) so they were going to put in their headphones and. stay in the living room on the couch. instead of going to their room.
They also will completely derail conversations into complete dead ends and traumadumping. I was driving, C was in the passenger seat, and B and our friend G(18 or 19 iirc) were in the back. we were chatting about our parents being silly and making harmless fun of us at various points, and C multiple times said "we're not talking about times my parents took away phones bc Trauma!" like. If you dont want to talk about it DONT BRING IT UP. C could have chimed in w a time their friend did something like that and it would be fine! but instead they latched onto the parent part. They do this fairly often, and it makes it really hard to have a conversation where we casually mention our childhoods, bc its always a minefield w C, as they will make a point to bring up that they lacked the circumstances for whatever experience we are talking about, either due to bad relationships w parents or due to growing up poor.
On top of all this, they also are not financially in a good place. They routinely dont have money for food and end up eating mostly communal stuff. Sometimes when they are low on money I will end up buying something communal just so they will stop carrying on. IMO if they are in that sort of financial situation they shouldnt have gotten a cat, bc I honestly dont think they can afford it. tbh I feel like they pretty much live on the cheese and tortillas I buy, and i'm starting to feel the financial stress of it.
They are constantly making every interaction about themselves in ways that make it really hard, even when they arent even part of the conversation.
Repeatedly i've wanted to tell them that they dont have to be involved in everything, and that they dont have to always be talking or generating noise. That when other people are talking, they need to either contribute constructively to the conversation, wait their turn, or at the very least stop and apologize when they interrupt someone instead of talking right over them for minutes at a time. And that its not our responsibility to help them when they are low on money, that maybe they shouldnt have gotten a cat if they werent able to financially support it, and also that it shouldnt be our (me, A and B)'s job to walk on egg shells bc they have emotional outbursts over incredibly minor things (they do take mood stabilizers and have a disorder that effects their mood, but that doesnt mean its ok that they will sometimes seem really angry and aggressive out of absolutely nowhere, yelling swears with no provocation).
What are these acronyms?
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dreamauri · 9 months
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‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾
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you are reading :: part five !!
╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! oc! ) ┊ summary . . . its over, its all over ) ┊ genre . . . angst) ╰╮ warning . . . illusions of mental breakdown, bad mothering [sorry lei], lil sad )
☆★ finally getting to the good part :') kind of a filler, sorry ━━━━
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( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )
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MEDIA DAY Saturday July 27 2023 — Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium
A-Z WINNERS
"This should be quiet fun considering I have no life outside of racing." You joked, putting your hands on your hips. "Is there a time limit, yes? Great."
"OK, A for Alonso. Duh. B, for Jenson button. C is for c*nt." You said with a straight face making several people around the room laugh. You couldn't help the smile the creeped on your face.
"Wait. Who has a name that starts with C? . . . Caucasian man. Thats who- OH MY GOD CLARK! I forgot." You chuckled moving on. "What comes after C? A, b, c, d! D stands for d*ck.  E stands forrrrr-"
"G, would've been nice to say my mom's name but she was slow." You joked wiping your face giggling. "Gasly."
"K, . . . Who? Hint?" "Three on the grid." "There's three on the grid? What the— ME! FUCK! thats me." You laughed face palming, falling on the floor laughing your ass off. "Leon Kraus, Ashton Kraus, Felix Kraus, Alexander Kraus, Fritz Kraus, Y/N Kraus and of course Killian Kraus . . . Killian those bitches . . . I think he's getting married actually." "He already did." "Oh yeahhhhhh." "He's got a kid." "No." You gaped at her, jaw on the floor. "When was this? I'm an aunt? No body told me."
"You're the only one who didn't get it right away." "Oh nooooo."
"S issssss, who's name starts with s. Give me a hint." "On the grid" "who?- Oh! SAINZ!" You smiled brightly giggling. "Oh shit, I could've said Schumacher, sorry. Two Schumackers, no?"
"V, Verstappen but we know which one. Maximus of course."
YOUNGEST TO OLDEST
"Dinosaur." You slapped Fernando's on the top of the board. "He was born 2 seconds ago— he wasn't even born yet." You joked slipping Meike's name on the bottom of the board.
A giggle came from your mouth as you looked at the board, you had only two names down from the 20 drivers you were supposed to rank from age. "I won." You decided nodding, a few laughs came from around making you relax and smile.
"I'm here." You placed your name above Meike. "And he's old as fuck." You placed Killian name under Fernando. "And him, I don't even know. He looks like he could be a dilf, but acts like he's three three." You places Max's name in the middle, with Lewis above and Lando below.
"He . . . Danny phanton is like three mentally, you can't convince me other wise." You chuckled placing his magnet above Max's. " . . . I- I know Magnussen has a daughter no?" "Two." "He has two daughters? Wow. Good luck with that. May the odds forever be in your favor."
"How good is that?" "Very good." The interviewer chuckled making you laugh." "You've got the bottom half right." You hid your face leaning down laughing. "Good enough, no?" You giggled watching someone take away the board and place a flip board instead.
WHO SAID THAT
"Oh no. What is this?" You flipped the first page, looking at the written text. "You have to guess who said that." "Not easy peasy lemon squeezy." You stretched you arms clearing your throat.
"Not me." You put a thumbs up smiling. "Is that a point? . . . Oh come on." You whined trying to think.
SURPRIZE
"Oooh, what's this?" You take the plaque handed to you. "Oh that's khofo." You turned board, pointing at the sfinx. "He looks way prettier in person." You chuckled, looking back at the photograph you admired the other famous landmarks and views from your home.
"Am I supposed to name all of these places? I haven't been that much around. Just luxor and delta." You chuckling looking confused. "Not Cairo or Giza?" You shook your head.
"You can see them next year then, when F1 goes to Egypt." You could feel yourself starting to smile as you looked at her unsurly. "What are you talking about?" You chuckled looking around the room confused. "I don't- wait no. You're not serious." You dropped your hands, jaw falling.
"Your joking." Your ran your hands through your hair. You could feel a wave of excitement rush through you as you jumped in your spot happily, fangirling. "We're going home! Yes yes yes!" You cheered throwing your fist up giggling happily.
"Oh my God. My family can come watch me." You covered your mouth as the idea dawned on you. "Oh my God. Yes yes yes yes! Yesss!"
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
f1
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f1 BREAKING: Red Bull will no longer have a second driver for the remaining races this season. oh no 🫣
user YES YES YES YES
user am i dreaming? GOD HAS BLESSED US
user about time
user fucking finally, she was making it a shit show
user am i the only one in the comments here to complain about this? this is not fair ↳ user bro no one gives q fuck. Shut up and eat ↳ user she was so annoying etf you complaining about? ↳ user yeah the only good thing about her is her looks
user bye bye, dont come back. we're not going to miss you ❤️
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Lei— okay." Max pulled the tween up on his lap, continuing with his stream while she laid on his chest quietly. "Mate! You still have her?!" "She's my good luck charm." Max smiled weakly patting the girls back.
That wasn't the reason Leila was still with Max though. Max kept one if his hands free at all time, patting the French-Egyptian's back or stroking her hair to give her the most amount of comfort he can offer.
Max could feel Leila's hug tighten every few minutes and it made his heart ache. She's going through too much and she's just a child.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
A jingle came from the carton box as you practically threw it on the floor next to the front door. Your shoes were kicked off and your travel bags flopped on the ceramic as you trudged into your home.
It was too quiet for your liking. And with the prime summer heat, you felt like you were going to melt.
Dings started to sound from your phone as soon as it connected to the wifi, and you could already hear the comments and posts, the tweets, the videos, articles, the memes, the drawings, you could hear of people making fun of you. It was buzzing in your ears. And you couldn't get it out of your head.
And in a moment of rage you threw your phone into down the hall, through the dinner table and salon, across the living room. SMASH. It wasn't going to bother you anymore. You dragged yourself upstairs, pulling the door to your room shut.
"Your tense." "OH WOW! I COULDNT TELL!" You turned to face your uncle's figure, tears welling up in your eyes as your hands visibly started to shake. "I have been working my ASS OFF. I PUT MY WHOLE LIFE INTO THAT GOD DAMN SPORT. I PUT YOUR TIME AND YOUR MONEY INTO THIS WASTE." You shouted, turning around your fist meeting the body mirror, panting heavily.
"Relax, nunu." "How can I relax?!" You turned into Marawan's body, hugging him tightly. "It's over. No one is going to want me now." Sobs escaped your mouth as you felt him softly brushing his fingers through your hair.
"Y/N— " "I'm just a stupid girl. I should've never even tried." "That's not true." "It is. I wasted my time. My effort. My childhood. My life!"
You collapsed on your knees struggling to wipe your vision clear. "What am I doing with my life?" You cried to no one, gripping your hair as you emptied your feelings on the ground.
"That's not true." You heard you mother assure, her cold hand gently caressing your back and she kneeled down beside you. "You made a friend, Max. You got closer with Leila. You baked, Y/N. When was the last time you baked? You took off your mask, how brave was that?"
"It wasn't on purpose." You muttered, chocking on your cries. "But you continued to be brave. You faced on your dad. You faced the world. And you raced with your brothers, you always wanted to do that."
"I raced against them. Not with them." You corrected her. "And it was Killian too. Your golden son crashed into me. And now I have a hole in my hip."
"You choose the sport, Y/N." You pushed her away before she could caress your head, turning away from her, hugging your knees. "No. You did."
"You're the one who got that stupid scholarship. You're the one who went to germany, met dad and married him. You're the one who got in that stupid car. You're the one who smoked. You're the one who put all your expectations, gave me all your dreams to complete. You're the one who died."
"And I was such a bad daughter." You sobbed to yourself. "I couldn't complete your wish. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Leila is going to live with that stupid woman—"
"Your mom's here." Leila shook her head wrapping her little arms around Max's neck. "No." She held him tighter. "I stay with Max." She begged in the little English she learned. "Yallah." The older woman pulled the tween from his wrist dragging her away. "Stop being a pain in my ass. Let's go."
"Red bull is going to lose a lot of points—"
Max was carrying the whole team on his back, struggling to stay in p2 and p3 through the races with the other teams taking his broken defence to their advantage.
"All because of me."
You cried in the dusty pink room alone. All alone.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
2007 — El GAMAZI ESTATE, FRANCE
"Killian? Sho bete3mel hena?" [what are you doing here] The rain soaked boy looked like a deer caught in headlights. He could only shrug, he himself confused qbout his where abouts. "Ana . . ." [i] He sighed shakily, pulling his late mother's helmet from his back pack.
Tears started to well up in his eyes, as he held out the ancient egyptian themed hear protection. "It belongs with the El-Gamazis." He sniffed wiping his eyes. "Mom would have wanted you to have it."
"Oh Killian." The boy was pulled into the household, wrapped in a towel and given hot chocolate, the helmet by his side. "Nunu maogoda?" [is nunu here] He asked quietly watching his grandparents and uncle rush around the room.
"Meen? 'Nubis? Betsou2 barah." [who? 'nubis? she's driving outside] 'but it's raining outside' he furrowed his eyes looking out the window. There you were indeed, perfecting your driving skills in your new kart, probably freezing to death but to concentrated to know.
"I want Nunu to be at the track on Sunday for mama's moment of silence." Killian, took a hold of Marawan's shirt, stopping him in his tracks. "El 7ad? . . . Mashi. 7ader." [sunday? ok, we will be there]
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( taglist ↳ @lorarri @benedikwonn @mycenterfold @ironmaiden1313 @iamahallucinationnn @hockeyboysarehot @tsnataly @iloveyou3000morgan @lpab @jetless @inas-thing @folklorelvrr @fdl305 @lifesuckslife @loveofmylife12 @chasing-liberosis @peachiicherries @lizzieolseniskinda @chelseyyouraverageluigi @michellekstyles
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dolceaspidenera · 3 months
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Okay guys, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I don't want to stir up drama and this is not why I write this, but I really, really need to get this off of my chest.
Yes, we are back discussing ace/demi headcanons for Astarion.
First thing first: people are allowed to headcanon whatever character they want as whatever the hell they want.
I read a post on here basically saying that Astarion should be the last character to be headcanoned as ace/demi because he is a character who is "reclaiming his own sexuality" - yes, and? Demi or ace people don't do that? Are they somehow exempted from any type of trauma regarding sex? Are we really making these arguments?
My favorite part though ought to be the one about Wyll being the most suited for these headcanons because he prefers "dancing over sex and waits for the marriage to have sex".
Huh.
So glad this is how asexuality is perceived, thanks.
What the heck does having sex after marriage have to do with being ace/demi? Can someone explain it to me?
Look, Wyll is an amazing character with lots of positive characteristics, but he is not an alternative to Astarion and shouldn't be treated that way.
Do you really want to know why lots of people headcanon Astarion as demi/ace? Because he resonates more with them. Simple as that. Not because he is white and Wyll is not, not because of some inherent form of hate or bigotry. He just resonates more.
And do you know why?
BECAUSE PEOPLE UNDER THE ACE SPECTRUM CAN BE VICTIMS OF ABUSE AS WELL.
Because we too wrestle with claiming our own sexuality, because we too experience being oversexualized against our desires.
On top of that, being ace doesn't mean being chaste, a virgin, or someone that necessarily will wait until after marriage to have sex!
You can be ace and embrace your sensuality, you can be ace and love to wear slutty outfits because fuck yes, it's my body and I do whatever the hell I want with it.
Do you know which other incredible sex icons other than Astarion are headcanoned as ace? Freakin' Jessica Rabbit and Barbie (from the 2023 film). You know, the most sexy characters ever. Because guess what? Ace people can be sexy too.
I'm sure the person who wrote the original post didn't have any ill intentions but damn, if you don't know what you are talking about, don't drag ace and demi into your comments.
This is also valid for trans headcanons btw, but I'll leave this whole topic to someone else who has more direct experience on it.
The point is: let people headcanon whatever the hell they want, there isn't a character "more suited", and there are plenty of reasons why people resonate more with a character over another.
Headcanons of Wyll as demi/ace are awesome,
Headcanons of Wyll as allo and very princely are awesome,
Headcanons of Wyll as trans are awesome,
Headcanons of Astarion as demi/ace are awesome,
Headcanons of Astarion as allo are awesome,
Headcanons of Astarion as trans are awesome.
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