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hollytoshaw · 15 days

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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

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summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

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Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

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Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’

With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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muffinpink02 · 18 days

Note

Perhaps some lucy inspo:

Lucy x (reader or ona) are on a spa trip, they haven’t done anything sexual in a couple of days for x reason, so now they can’t keep their hands off each other

extra inspo for if you write jealousy fics:

But there is someone (a worker or fellow visitor) who also cannot keep their hands off lucy (or ona) and eventually the mixture of jealousy, good looking gf, no sexual activities became to much and I think we can all imagine what happened either at the hotel (or at home)😌

just some inspo, you don’t have to use this storyline and can also rewrite it however, perhaps private jacuzzi on vacay instead of spa day etc etc

also cannot wait for the next chapters of the fics you’re currently writing. Massive fan of your work!!

The Big O

Thank you to the beautiful anon for this idea. Here you go. Its very quick and rushed, sorry.

Warning - Smut - angry sex

“I can’t wait for this. We needed a break.” Ona smiled over at Lucy as she opened the balcony doors of the hotel room. The taller girl lugged their shared suitcase into the room. Smiling at her girlfriend's excitement.

It had been a while since the couple had a break together, the last real holiday they had was after the World Cup. Yeah, they had breaks in between but they hadn’t been on a summer holiday. They had both been so busy with their own schedules, not to mention the champions league. They became passing ships in the night, hardly really spending time together. That also meant that they hadn’t been able to be intimate with each other in a while. 3 weeks to be exact.

So, yeah, they needed this. They made a promise to shut off their phones, no emails, no calls, nothing that could distract them.

“Yeah. I just can’t wait to see you in that bikini you brought.” The older brunette smiled playfully at Ona.

“Oh, what one?” Ona smiled innocently.

The older brunette stepped into Onas space, smiling down at the doe-eyed girl. “The one that shows off your arse perfectly.”

Ona bit her lip. Something she knew that drove Lucy crazy. The pair had been flirting the whole way here, both wanting each other desperately. Lucy was finding it hard to keep her hands to herself on the flight, her fingers had found themselves between Ona’s legs, teasingly stroking Ona’s bare thighs the whole plain journey. The younger girl didn’t mind at first but when Lucy's fingers got higher and higher to her core she couldn't stop the heat burning between her legs. She was close to dragging Lucy into the plains toilet just to get some kind of release.

“I love it when you look at me like that.” Lucy purred. She put her finger under Ona’s chin, making the girl look up at her.

“Like what?” Ona whispered. She knew what she was doing.

A lot of people would mistake Ona’s innocent look for being the softer one in the bedroom, the more submissive one. And yeah, she definitely was but she could also be very dominating when she wanted to be. She could play Lucy so easily, and Lucy loved it. She would fall for those beautiful brown Disney like eyes everytime, doing anything Ona would ask of her.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Lucy cupped the shorter girl's face and slowly brought her lips to her own. It was slow at first, both feeling the other girl's mouth, tasting the other's lips. Ona’s watermelon gloss tingled the tip of Lucy's tongue, making her mouth water. Lucy grabbed the back of Ona's neck, pushing her tongue into her mouth. Ona whimpered on feeling her girlfriend's smooth tongue push past her lips and into her mouth.

“Ergh, I love when you make those noises.”

The Spaniard giggled, but it was cut off when Lucy pushed her on her back, hitting the soft mattress below her. She quickly climbed on top of the smaller girl, reattaching her lips to Ona’s own. It was quick messy kisses, the sounds of their wet lips smacking hard against the other. It was when Lucy started to roll her hips into Ona’s core that the Spaniard started to moan.

“Lu-,”

Ona was cut off from Lucy sucking on her neck.

Ona could feel her underwear becoming wetter, she wanted Lucy so badly. Her next words were going to be difficult.

“Lucy, we have to st- aaa.”

Lucy quickly slipped her hand into Ona’s shorts, touching her clothed sex.

“So wet already.” Lucy hummed cockily.

Ona gritted her teeth. It had been too long since she felt Lucy between her legs. So long since she felt those talented fingers inside her. She wanted nothing more then for Lucy to fuck her right here, right now, but she had to stop her.

“Lucy, w-we have to s-stop.”

Lucy stopped, looking down at her girlfriend, who was now panting hard. Her lips swollen from Lucy's relentless sucking.

“Stop? Why?” Her confused horny face made Ona’s pussy clench.

“I booked us a spa treatment. We have to be there in 10 minutes.”

“Are you saying I can’t have you screaming my name in 2 minutes? Because I take that as a challenge.” Lucy smirked down at Ona, capturing her lips once more.

Ona let herself get lost in Lucy's kisses once more. It was when Lucy started to push Ona’s t-shirt up, her short nails scratching against her tight skin, bringing Ona back into the presence.

“We can’t. Come. I’ll make it up to you later.” Ona gave a quick kiss to Lucy's lips before pushing her off.

Lucy let out a sigh and smiled. “You will definitely make it up to me.” She slapped Ona’s arse playfully, making the younger girl yelp.

Never one to be outdone, Ona stepped in front of Lucy, giving her best doe eye impression. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

The northerner's jaw clenched, her eyes closed as she let out a frustrated sigh.

“You better get us to the spa before I throw you on that bed.”

Ona giggled, she loved to rile up Lucy, she had found in the past that it would always make the sex just a little more fiery, more passionate, a lot more dirty.

The girls quickly got ready for the appointment. They changed into their bikinis and headed to the spa. They checked in and waited in the seating area for their masseuse. Lucy leaned into Ona. “I definitely would have had you screaming my name in that time.”

Ona chuckled. “Stop. Try and calm down, you’re going to have someone touching you, I don’t want you all worked up for them.”

Lucy ignored that, and continued.

“I just hope you know that I brought the big one, the one that you beg me to go slow with.”

Ona felt the chills go up her back from Lucy's words. She felt her cunt tighten, thinking about that exact strap Lucy was referring to.

“Fuck, Lucy.” Ona whispeared.

Before Ona could respond, with a full sentence, not that she really could have, her mind had turned to mush, two women came into the waiting room.

“Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here for Lucy.” A blonde woman smiled at the pair.

“That's me.” Lucy smiled.

“And you must be Ona. I’m Sam.” The tall brunette masseuse smiled at the younger girl.

Lucy didn’t miss the way the masseuse eyed up Ona.

“That's me.” Ona smiled.

“Perfect.” Sam's grin was devilish. Lucy didn’t like it one bit.

The women sat next to each of the girls, talking about the session and what it would involve. Even though Lucy was trying to listen, her eyes kept wandering over to Ona and the tall brunette. They were speaking Catalan. The women had heard Ona’s accent and of course she happened to also be Catalonian too. So even though Lucy knew a lot of Spanish, she wasn't able to pick up the conversation. Especially at the rate they were speaking. Whatever they were talking about must have been funny because Ona was constantly laughing at the pretty brunette. And for some particular reason Sam had to constantly keep touching Ona’s bare thigh.

“So does that sound good, Lucy?” Sarah asked.

Lucy was pulled out of her stare off, with the back of Sam's head. “Hmm? Oh yeah, that's great.” She nodded.

“Great. I’m just going to grab some bits and we’ll head over.”

Lucy nodded and smiled, she wasn't even sure what treatment she had agreed on.

“Grcias Sam.” Ona smiled. Sam walked out of the room, possibly doing the same thing Sarah was doing. Ona looked over at Lucy, who looked a bit flustered.

“Hey, what are you getting?” Ona asked.

“Oh erm, the Swedish rock salt, tissue massage.” Lucy was sure that's what Sarah said. “You?”

“Sam suggested I get a full body deep tissue massage. She said it's the best type for what we do.”

“Hmm, so she knows who you are?”

“Yeah, she's actually not far from my town.”

“Hmm, small world.” Lucy smiled, but it was her weird smile. Ona knew that smile.

The women came back, holding white robes. They followed each woman to their own rooms. The pair smiled as they separated. Lucy noticing once more how Sam’s eyes roamed over Ona. Even though this was meant to be a relaxing moment, Lucy was far from relaxed. She couldn't stop thinking about Ona in the other room, being touched by the other woman.

“Okay, so you’re very tight on your shoulders, I’m going to work on that for a bit. Just try to relax, you feel very tense.” Sarah said.

Lucy hummed. Even though Sarah had no clue about why Lucy was currently very tense right now, she knew she was right, she needed to relax. She tried. Though she couldn't stop the thoughts of Sam’s hands going an inch too high up Ona’s towel, or an inch too low down her back. Or if she made Ona moan from her touches, what if she made those cute sexy noises that only Lucy pulled from her. Lucy may have regretted teasing Ona before the session.

The 45 minutes had passed. Lucy got dressed and thanked Sarah, though the girl was only more tense. Lucy waited in the waiting room for Ona, even though they both had a 45 minute treatment, Lucy waited another 15 minutes before she saw Ona. The girl had a giant dopey smile on her face. Her cheeks had a pink flush to it. Her hair had been in her neat classic bun before she went in the room with Sam, but now it was down and messy. The girl literally looked like she had just been fucked. And Lucy would know, she had made her look like that plenty of times.

“How was it?” Ona asked, her voice sounded rough.

“Good, you?”

“Soooo good, I don’t think I’ve ever had it like that before. She knew what she was doing.” Ona smiled.

“Hmm, good, good. Why so long?”

“Ohh, it was her last session, she gave me head,- a head massage.” Ona started to bun her hair back up.

Lucy raised her brows at Ona’s words. “Ohhh, nice of her.”

Ona nodded, not noticing Lucy's clear annoyance, or if she did she was ignoring it.

“Yeah. I’m hungry. Shall we grab something to eat?

“Sure.”

The girls grabbed lunch in the hotel. Lucy had calmed down after Ona snaked her hand in hers, mindlessly stroking her knuckles, something that Lucy loved. She knew she was just being jealous, not having sex for so long probably made it worse. Her body was ready to combust and the quick make out session they had in the hotel room before really didn't help.

They sat at the hotel's beach, soaking in the sun, finally relaxing. She looked over at Ona laying on her front, her beautiful arse cheeks swallowing the bikini. Lucy had to lick her lips, making sure she wasn't actually dribbling.

“Do you want a drink? I’ll go to the bar.”

Ona smiled, pushing her glasses down. “Can I get a strawberry daiquiri, please?”

Lucy kissed Ona deeply, holding the back of her head. “Of course you can.”

Lucy made her way to the bar, she ordered the drinks then noticed the TV. The bar was playing the football, it was Chelsea vs Man City, a game she was hoping to watch. She took a seat at the bar, waiting for the cocktail to be made, but also wanting to get comfy as she watched on.

Lucy had a few favourite things in this world, and watching football was one of them. Fucking Ona until she couldnt feel her legs no more was another. Playing football was another. Ona probably couldn't tell you in what order that went from top to bottom.

It had been 10 minutes Ona looked towards the bar, wondering where her girlfriend was, she wasn't worried, they were still at the hotel. She knew when Lucy was in a good mood the girl could make friends with anyone, so she imagined she was maybe talking to a fan or something. Another 10 minutes and still nothing, that’s when Ona heard that very familiar roar of a bar that she realised why Lucy had not returned. Of course.

“How's your head?” Ona looked up to see Sam the masseuse. With the way Sam was smiling at Ona, she couldn’t help but think Sam was trying to have a double meaning with that question.

“A lot better thank you. I definitely feel more relaxed.” Ona smiled.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it, I've been told by many girls that my hands have relieved a lot of tension. My fingers know just where to hit those spots.” Sam’s smile was dangerous.

She was coming on strong. Ona would normally politely turn down a girl who was flirting with her. But, Ona was annoyed with Lucy right now. They were meant to be on holiday, relaxing together, no phones, no screens, no interruptions. Ona also wouldn't have minded if she had watched it for 5 minutes and came back. But she had been gone for 30 minutes, Lucy had clearly got lost in the game.

That's when Ona decided to make things interesting. She carried on speaking to Sam. She knew half time would have to be any minute now. And just like clock work, she did, just in perfect timing, she could see Lucy getting up from the bar. Putting her plan in motion.

“Sam. Could you get my back, please. I can feel it getting red.”

Sam couldn't have moved quick enough. She took the bottle of sun cream from Ona’s hand and began to rub her back. Ona even undid her bikini straps at her neck, making a show of it. And that show had finally caught the attention of green eyes. Lucy's green eyes.

Ona closed her eyes and stretched her neck as Sam pressed her fingers deeply into her muscles. She could hear Lucy was close. So she moaned. She didn’t even have to put it on too much, as Sam did genuinely have magic fingers. Ona let out another groan, but this time it turned into a small whimper.

Lucy wasn't a violent person, but she wanted nothing more than to rugby tackle Sam to the floor. She watched as her fingers slowly rubbed against Ona’s skin, she even made Ona arch as she hit spots that not even Lucy could hit, because she didn’t know what muscle even did that. As she got closer she even heard Ona moan, then she heard her whimper. That was the whimper that only Lucy made her do. Now here she was watching her girlfriend moan for another woman right in front of her.

“I didn’t realise the hotel offered massages outside the spa.” Lucy almost growled.

“Oh, hey babe, Sam was passing by so I asked her to top up my cream.” Ona smiled.

Lucy knew that smile, she knew what Ona was doing. She continued.

“You were gone for a while. Did you get my drink?” Ona asked.

“Oh, yeah sorry. They’re playing the game, I just wanted to catch the last bit of it.” Lucy looked guilty.

“Hmm. I see.” Ona nodded.

“Here's your drink.” Lucy passed over Ona a warm, cocktail, even as she passed it she realised how stupid this looked.

Sam decided to involve herself in the conversation. “Aye, that drink is no good. I can make a better cocktail than this. Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back.”

Ona smiled widely up at Sam. “Oh thank you. You don’t have to do that.”

Sam laughed, responding in their mother tongue, making Ona giggle.

Lucy had to hold her fists by her side. Her anger for Sam growing all the more. She sat down in her deck chair. Looking at the younger girl. “Sorry Ona. I was gone for too long.

“You were.” She only confirmed.

“I’m sorry. I know we said no screens, I just got carried away.” She grabbed Ona’s hand kissing the back of it, making Ona smile at her.

“It's okay. You can make it up to me.” She smirked, not looking at Lucy.

Lucy was relieved to see Ona wasn't actually angry. She moved in close to her girlfriend, kissing her neck, she could taste the salt from her sweat, she sucked on her skin, relishing in the way Ona gasped.

“I’d do anything to make you smile.”

Just like Sam promised she was back in 5 minutes, much to Lucy's dismay..

“Here you go, this my own personal cocktail. I call it ‘The big O.” She winked.

Even though Sam was rude enough to flirt openly with Ona, she had also made a cocktail for Lucy. Ona sat up taking the glass from Sam.

“Ohh it looks amazing. Thank you Sam.” Ona smiled. She wrapped her lips around the pink straw and hummed. “Wow, that's really good. Try it Luce.”

Lucy rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She imagined Ona was just being polite, she took her own sip. Wow, yeah, no, that was good. It was maybe the best cocktail she had ever had. But Sam didn't need to know that.

“Bit sweet for me. Thank you though.”

Sam smiled. “That's okay, everyone has a type, no? Anyways, enjoy the sun. Intenta no cremar, nena bonica.” She winked at Ona as she walked off.

Lucy was seething, she might not be an expert at the language but she knew enough to know she had just called Ona.

“I don’t like her.” Lucy grunted.

Ona chuckled, she loved Lucy like this. “Oh stop. She's just doing her job.”

Lucy folded her arms like a sulking toddler. Ona could only smile at her girlfriends cute, jealous antics as she drank the delicious cocktails.

The evening arrived, the girls rushed up to their rooms to get ready for another reservation Ona had made, it was only for dinner but it was a balcony view that you had to book in advance. If Ona knew how worked up the pair was going to be she would have just ordered room service. Lucy of course couldn't keep her hands off of the younger girl as she came out of the shower, slapping Ona’s arse cheeks as she walked past her.

They arrived for their dinner reservation, and Ona was grateful she had the willpower to stop Lucy’s hand creeping into her underwear just before they left the hotel room. The view was breathtaking, it overlooked the sea and the other islands. The sun was halfway to setting, making the sky a beautiful pink and orange colour. The girls had their dinner, happy to be in one another's company. They had needed this, just them, nothing in their way. Even though they both had wanted to tear each other's clothes off every waking minute, this was something they needed. Catching up with certain bits of their lives that they hadn't been able to in a while.

The girls finished their dinner and headed to the beach. The hotel had an event each night for the guests. Tonight was salsa dancing. Lucy and Ona sat at a table waiting for the entertainment. A pretty waitress came over to take their order.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” She looked at Lucy, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi, can I please get a beer. Ona?” Lucy looked over.

“A strawberry daiquiri please.”

The waitress smiled at Lucy. “No, problem.” She walked off to get their drinks.

“Someones a fan.” Ona rolled her eyes.

“She’s just being friendly.” Lucy chuckled.

The girl returned with their orders. “Here you go Miss Bronze.”

Lucy didn't stop the grin on her face. “Thank you.”

“And your martini.” She handed Ona the drink.

“Oh erm, I didn't order this.”

“No? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten a bit flustered, I’m a really big fan.” She eyed Lucy up with absolutely no shame. “What was it you ordered?”

Ona stared at the waitress. Her normally soft eyes turned angry.

“A strawberry daiquiri.”

“That’s right, sorry. I'll grab that for you now.”

“Thank you. Don’t stress, we all make mistakes.” Lucy smiled.

The waitress put her hand on Lucy's naked muscle. “Thank you.”

Ona rolled her eyes, seething in her seat. Out of the two Ona was definitely the more jealous one.

This time it wasnt the waitress that came over, it was Sam, again. Did she not take a break?

“Hola, I saw the mix up. Sorry about that, I took the liberty of making my ‘Big O’ you look like you need it.”

“Sam! Thank you! I wanted to ask if they served it but you mentioned it was your own cocktail.” She sucked on her straw.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Do you work on every section or?”

Ona nudged Lucy under the table.

Sam chuckled. “I do work a lot of the hotel, si. I’m actually working in the entertainment tonight.”

“Of course you are.” Lucy muttered under her breath, Sam nor Ona heard her.

“So, Ona did you want to take up my offer for the message session?”

“What's this?” Lucy asked.

“Sam said I needed more work done to my upper thighs and lower back. She said I had a lot of tension there.”

“Si, I offered for her to have another treatment. Her body needs some extra attention in those areas. She's very tight. I could release her from that tension.” Sam smiled at Ona.

“I’ll definitely let you know. We have a few days planned.” Ona smiled, sipping on Sam's cocktail.

“Please do, it would be my pleasure.” Sam smirked as she walked away.

Lucy could see the newspapers already. ‘Bronze turned boxer.’ or ‘Lucy Ali’

“She couldn't be any more obvious if she tried.” Lucy sneered.

Ona grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “It doesn't matter. It's you who I want. It's you who will be fucking me later. It's you who I love.”

Lucy couldn't hold back the shiver that kissed her skin. She leaned into Ona’s face, kissing the girl with a passion Ona hadn't felt in a while. Just as they pulled apart the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up. Music boomed in from the speakers, salsa dancers came onto the stage.

The entertainment was amazing, the girls were enjoying themselves. The first show finished and the audience clapped for the dancers.

It wasn't until a familiar face came on stage that Lucy felt her shoulders drop. Sam came on stage in traditional salsa wear. It was a very different sight for the uniform she wore before. She had a beautiful body, her curves sat in the black dress perfectly. The music began, her and the male partner danced the tango, it was undeniably one of the sexiest dancers two people could do.

The dance came to an end, the crowd clapped loudly for Sam and her partner. They bowed and the male dancer walked off stage.

“Thank you, now it is your turn. I need a partner. I'm going to pick two volunteers, and I don’t take no for an answer.” Sam’s eyes landed on the shorter brunette.

Lucy's stomach dropped.

Sam stepped down off the stage, she pointed at one man who stood up quickly, making his way on the stage. She didn't have to walk very far as she put her hand out for Ona to take.

Lucy could tell Ona wasn't sure what to do, her big brown doe eyes looked almost worried. Lucy didn't want that. Yes, she could be jealous and possessive but she wouldn't actually want Ona to feel like she couldn't do something because of her jealousy. That’s not how she wanted this relationship.

Ona stared at her, needing some kind of confirmation, she wouldn’t do it if Lucy would genuinely be hurt. She saw the small smile and nod that Lucy gave her, giving her the green light. She took Sam’s hand, allowing her to be led to the stage.

“Can I please have a round of applause for my volunteers. Please tell us your names.”

“I’m Craig.” The guy smiled.

“I’m Ona.”

Lucy did the loudest wolf whistle she could muster, causing Ona to giggle.

“Okay, the challenge is to dance. Whoever can keep up with me wins. If you forget or falter you are out. The winner wins a bottle of champagne.” Sam said.

Now, it doesn’t matter what the prize is. Ona and Lucy will want to win everytime, even if the prize is just to gloat. So, yeah, Lucy was going to cheer Ona on. Even if Sam was very obvious and wanted her girl. They needed to win.

Sam went through some steps with the pair. Very basic at first, just a one, two step, dip kind of thing. Ona and Craig stayed on count. Lucy couldn’t help but watch as Ona’s hips made an easy step look so sexy. Sam gave them more steps, getting more technical and faster, the audience cheered as they kept up with her.

“Well done, now we put it to the test. You will dance the steps. I will jump in with you, whoever can keep with me the longest, wins.”

It would be impossible for either of them to keep up with her, she was a professional dancer, but that was probably the point. Sam pointed to the guy to go first. The music started and he began to dance, he kept up with the basic steps. The crowd cheered him on, he wasn't too bad. Sam then stepped closer taking his hands to dance with him. As soon as she made it faster he messed up.

The audience clapped for his efforts. Sam strode up to Ona. The music started to play again and Ona did the steps. Lucy knew Ona could dance, she always looked so easy and free when she did, her body could move like a snake. So, she looked very natural with these steps. Sam then took Onas hands and began to dance with her, Lucy noticed Sam's hand placements straight away, one on her hip verging on her arse, the other clasped with her hand.

She made the steps quicker but Ona kept up easily, Sam pushed herself closer to the shorter girl, looking down at her. The girl was taller than Lucy, so Ona looked even tinier next to her.

Sam smirked down at Ona, realising she could actually dance. She began to twirl Ona’s smaller body, bringing her back into her chest, faces inches from her own. If Lucy didn't hate Sam she would have thought it was actually quite sexy. Ona and Sam were wearing very samilair dresses, making the dance even more in sync. Sam spun Ona again and dipped her backwards. Ona must have hid this talent from Lucy because she was keeping up with Sam no problem, she looked like a professional dancer. Her face was as focused as it was on a football pitch.

Sam brought her to her body again, Ona’s thigh slipped between Sams as they danced closely, Sam's hands slipped into Ona’s hair and made a circular motion. Ona’s eyes closed as she was moved around easily. Okay, yeah, Lucy was horny, and jealous?

Sam twirled the petite girl once more and brought Ona’s back to her chest. She brought her face close to Ona’s neck, her lips barely just touching Ona’s skin, then twirled her again. She began to slowly dip Ona backwards, her hand gliding up the girl's thigh, revealing her muscular leg. She pushed her thigh high, against her own body, it looked so sexual, it almost felt like you were interrupting something. Her face came close to Ona’s lips then, down her neck, then down her chest.

Lucy was feeling many different feelings right now, and horny was the biggest one, but she was also so proud of Ona. She didn’t know the girl could dance like that. The music ended and Sam slowly brought Ona back up to her feet, both smiling and out of breath.

The hotel guest jumped to their feet and cheered, including Lucy. Ona looked straight at her girlfriend, happy to see her smiling.

Sam lifted Ona’s hand and bowled, she then took a step back to let Ona have the moment. Lucy looked at her girlfriend, she was slightly out of breath, her face was flushed, her once neat hair tousled. Lucy needed her.

Sam whispered something in Ona’s ear but that girl was paying her no attention, she could feel the way Lucy was looking at her. In this very moment it was just her and Lucy, her green eyes were undressing her body.

Sam brought over the cold champagne. “Ona, everybody!” The crowd clapped once more. Ona thanked Sam while taking her prize. She made quick steps towards Lucy.

“Room. Now”

That's all Ona needed to say and Lucy was up.

Ona gasped as her back hit the wall of their hotel room. Lucy’s mouth was all over her neck. Her tongue sucked, and licked at her bare skin. She was leaving marks. Ona could tell. She couldn't stop her even if she wanted to. Lucy was lost in a haze, biting and sucking her skin in between her lips. She wanted to mark the girl. Make a point that she was hers. No one else's.

“Fuck, Luce.” Ona struggled to see straight.

“You liked it didn't you? All day. Making me jealous? Hmm?” Lucy asked.

Ona smirked. “Sí, I did.”

Lucy hummed. “I guess I’ll have to remind you who you belong to.” She gave Ona a particularly sharp bite to the neck. Making the girl cry out.

She grabbed the shorter brunette by the waist, her lips attached to hers. She kissed Ona deeply, almost roughly. She cradled the back of her head as she moved them to the foot of the bed. Ona moaned at the sheer strength of Lucy's tongue, pushing its way into her mouth, taking full control of the kiss. She pulled back.

“Strip. Get on the bed.” Lucy commanded.

Ona nodded, striping herself of her clothes.

The older brunette made her way to their suitcase, looking for her strap. Lucy removed her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She pulled the harness up her strong thighs, adjusting the thick strap between her legs. She heard a small gasp behind her. She turned around to see Ona on her back, her head on the pillows with her hand between her legs. Lucy smirked, she loved watching Ona pleasure herself, she would watch her all day if she could, but she would always end up replacing Ona’s hand with her own, or her mouth.

She slowly walked over to the bed, Ona’s fingers were glistening with her juices, her eyes closed tightly as she circled her sensitive clit. Lucy watched as her girlfriend started to lose herself in her own pleasure, her small whimpers and whines making Lucy lose her calm resolve. She wanted to be inside her. She kneeled on the bed and slowly crawled to the petite women, trying not to make too much movement. She was like a moth to the flame, mesmerised by Ona, she couldn't take her eyes away from her glistening lips, her own mouth watering at the sight in front of her.

The taller brunette brought her lips to Ona’s thigh, kissing the sensitive flesh. Ona smiled, feeling her girlfriends lips on her, she opened her eyes watching Lucy crawl closer to her.

“Kiss me.” Ona whispered.

Lucy moved higher up Ona’s thighs, closer to her sex, Lucy could smell how wet Ona was, the buds on her tongue watering at the thought of tasting her. She couldn't wait any longer, she would normally tease Ona a lot more, kiss her all over her petite body, make her beg for her, but she had waited too long. She dipped her head to Ona’s core, causing Ona to move her hand away. She took one long lick up her folds onto the sensitive bud.

“No, Luce kiss me, please.”

Lucy lifted her head up, Ona was looking down at her, pleading for her. She could never deny Ona anything, especially like this. She crawled up to the shorter brunette, her body was so small under hers. She made sure to let the dick rub against Ona’s body as she moved, reminding her exactly what she was going to do to her. Reminding her exactly who Ona belonged to.

Ona squirmed as she felt the thick rubber press against her. She grabbed Lucy's face and brought their lips together. Ona tried to take control but Lucy didn't allow it, she roughly pushed her tongue into Ona’s making her gasp. The older brunette was losing patience, and Ona could tell. Her strong hips started to move against Ona’s body, she wanted to fuck her, she wanted to here Ona scream her name.

But so did Ona. She wasn't the only one who got riled up by jealousy tonight. Yeah, Lucy maybe had to endure it a lot more, but Ona also knew Lucy was about to wreck her. And she knew she could go for hours if she wanted to. And Ona needed to come now, not in a couple of hours, while Lucy made her beg. The petite girl wrapped her leg around Lucy's body and easily flipped them. Lucy was on her back with Ona on top, smiling down proudly at her own strength.

“You’re so easy Luce.” The shorter brunette whispered into her ear, making Lucy shiver.

“I’m going to ride your face until I’m satisfied, then you can do what you want with me. Does that sound good, baby?”

Lucy nodded quickly. This was the Ona people didn't get to see, (for obvious reasons.) The sweet doe eye Spaniard could be just as dominating as the brunette beneath her. Maybe even more.

She quickly crawled up Lucy's body, ready to take what she wanted from her. She planted her thighs next to Lucy's head and lowered her wet pussy onto Lucy's hot mouth.

“Fuck.” Ona’s eyes closed as she dropped her head back. As soon as she felt Lucy's soft mouth on her painfully throbbing clit she couldn't wait. She moved her hips into Lucy's mouth, she snaked her fingers into the dark roots of Lucy's hair, and grinded her hips. Lucy wrapped her hands around Ona's hips, helping her guide her movements. She lapped at Ona’s cunt, her thick juices covered her tongue, the girl was wet. Lucy swallowed the mouthful of fluids, moaning as she felt the wetness glide down her throat.

Ona had one hand in Lucy's hair the other on the head board, giving her full control in how she moved her body against Lucy's skillful tongue. She was dominating the situation, and Lucy was happy enough to be used for Ona’s pleasure. She loved when Ona took charge, the dominant energy in her would switch off so easily, and allow the normally softer lover to take what she wanted.

Lucy wrapped her lips around Ona’s soft bundle of nerves, making the girl groan loudly, her hips becoming more rough. She knew Lucy could take it. She could feel the swell in her stomach grow. She grabbed Lucy's head with both hands and began to fuck her face, she could hear how wet she was as Lucy slurped on her velvety folds.

“Hmm, Lucy, your mouth. Are you swallowing?”

Lucy hummed. Ona had a kink for Lucy swallowing her essence, she loved to hear the girl's throat drinking her down. Especially when she came, she would hold Lucy's head down to make sure she cleaned and swallowed every bit of her up. Not letting her move until she was happy.

Ona felt the tickling vibration from Lucy's mouth. She smiled down at the girl as she fucked her face. “Good girl. Make sure you swallow when I come.”

Lucy hummed again. Sending sweet vibrations into the petite girl. “Fuck, Lucy, Just like that, Dont stop.”

Ona grinded her hips deep into Lucy's mouth. Her thighs started to shake. The grip in Lucy's hair was almost painful. She let out a cry as she felt Lucy suck perfectly on her clit. She came hard against the girl's tongue. Lucy groaned as she felt Onas wetness slowly drip into her mouth. Swallowing it as loudly as she could. Ona slowed her movements, trying to catch her breath. She looked down at her beautiful girlfriend, licking and cleaning her up. She gently stroked Lucy's hair back.

“You’re so good. So good.”

Lucy hummed as she continued licking and swallowing, catching every drop she could. Ona didn't move, she stayed on Lucy's face, enjoying the feeling of her tongue stroking her sensitive folds. They stayed like this for a while, until Ona decided she wanted more. She began to move her hips again, gently this time. Allowing Lucy to move at the pace she wanted.

Lucy looked up at Ona, she watched as her girlfriend's body gently rocked against her mouth. She looked breathtaking. Her long brown chestnut hair dripped down her chest and back, her eyes were closed as she was lost in the pleasure of Lucy's mouth. She began to make small whimpers as she approached her second orgasm. She came again, crying as she flung her head back in pleasure. Lucy swallowed and suckled just the way the Spaniard liked. Ona gasped as Lucy caressed her with her tongue, finally not able to take anymore, she lifted herself off the older girl and dropped on the bed beside her.

“Your mouth’s amazing.” Ona breathed out.

Lucy chuckled, she sat up looking at Ona’s body next to her, she could see the bruises forming on her neck from her earlier assault. Her cunt was aching looking at her.

Lucy wasn't a rough lover, she definitely liked to take control and be in charge but she wasnt rough. But with all the emotions of jealousy running through her, seeing Sam's hands all over her girlfriend's body woke something up in her. She moved to the end of the bed, she leaned forward and grabbed Ona by her waist, easily moving the girl. Ona yelped.

“On your knees.”

Ona looked shocked by the sudden change in Lucy's mood. She dropped to her knees in front of Lucy. Ona saw the huge appendage between Lucy's legs, it was their biggest toy, Ona enjoyed using it now and again but a lot of the time Lucy had to go slow. So it wasn't their most used item.

Ona didn’t feel as cocky as she did before, staring down Lucy’s huge strap.

“Open.”

Ona nodded her head, she opened her mouth and took in the tip of the dick. Lucy's hands snaked into her lose her, guiding her head down the dick. She stopped before she got half way, the girth of the toy was already stretching out her lips.

“That’s it baby.” Lucy started to move her hips forward, pushing Ona’s head back against the mattress. Ona’s hands were on the older brunette's thighs. Lucy removed her hands and pushed them above her head, onto the mattress. Making her press deeper into Ona’s mouth. The spaniard gagged as Lucy began to slowly fuck her face against the bed.

“You look so good Ona, you're taking it so well. Don’t stop baby.”

Ona felt the thick plastic slide its way down her throat. Ona could tell Lucy was definitely about to take out some pent up anger on her throat. And that was exactly what the Spaniard wanted, she knew she pushed Lucy today.

Lucy’s hip started to pick up pace, she held Ona’s wrist in one hand the other gripping at her head. Ona moaned at the new speed, she could feel herself dripping, being used like this from Lucy was a rarity, Lucy looked down at Ona, her doe like eyes were prickling with tears. Her lips sliding up and down the appendage.

“You drive me crazy Ona.” Lucy pushed deeper.

Ona’s head was basically trapped between Lucy and the mattress, she could feel her breathing getting more difficult as the dick took up most of the space in her throat, restricting her of air. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, she started to choke around Lucy's dick. Lucy pulled back, Ona gasped as air hit her lungs again. Her spit was attached to the tip of the strap. Lucy smiled down at her.

“Take some more.” Lucy pushed her dick back to Ona’s swollen lips.

Ona opened her mouth, ready for what Lucy would want to give her.

“So, you enjoy making me jealous?” Lucy snapped.

Ona’s eyes squeezed shut as Lucy pushed herself deeper into her mouth.

“You liked making me angry? Liked flirting with your little girlfriend?”

Ona moaned, angry Lucy was a sexy Lucy. Spit started to dribble from her mouth at Lucy's pace.

“Look at you, you love it don't you, Ona? You love being a little brat.”

Lucy finally slid the whole strap down Ona’s throat, pushing the base perfectly against her clit. She rocked her hips into Ona’s face, thoroughly face fucking the girl. Ona began to choke on the thick plastic, tears rolled down her face.

Lucy pulled out of Ona’s mouth, not wanting to actually hurt the girl. Ona coughed and sputtered as she was able to breathe again. Lucy grabbed Ona by her arms and threw her on the bed like she was nothing, another thing Ona went wild for, Lucy's strength, the girl could carry her around like she was nothing, and when she was angry, like she was now, it would always came into play.

Lucy didn't wait around, she sunk two fingers into Ona’s core. The girl gasped at the new intrusion between her legs, Lucy couldn't help but smile at the beautiful noise that escaped Ona’s mouth.

“So tight Ona, you need to open up for me.” Lucy purred in the girl's ear.

“Fuck, Luce.” Ona groaned, Lucy picked up the pace quickly, the obscene noise that came between Ona’s legs was pornagraphic. She was so wet from Lucy fucking her face, and Lucy knew it. Ona loved rough sex, Lucy did too, but she was always the one to make sure Ona was okay with everything they did. They had their colours, they knew the limits, and Lucy knew Ona would stop her if she ever needed to, the same went for Lucy.

Lucy removed her fingers from Ona and rubbed her wetness over the strap, covering the dick in Ona’s natural lube. The girl had a lot of it. She lined herself up, looking down at Ona’s pussy.

“You ready baby?”

“Please Lucy, I need you.”

Lucy pushed the head off the very girthy dick into Ona’s dripping cunt. She would normally let Ona get used to the thickness but today she didn't have the composure. She pushed her hips until she bottomed out into Ona, causing the girl to whimper with each inch that pushed past her tight walls.

“Fuck Ona.” Lucy knew she couldn't actually feel it, but the noises Ona made alone drove her crazy. She started to grind her hips into Ona, the shorter girl whimpered in her ears as she took what Luct gave her.

“L-Lu- cy!” Ona groaned out as she felt Lucy speed up, the pain quickly turned into pleasure as her pusy swallowed her.

“You’re mine, Ona.” Lucy grunted.

“Si. Si. Yours.”

“Don’t ever forget that.” Lucy started to suck on Ona’s skin. Making more marks.

Ona couldn't talk, the pace of Lucy's hips was unforgiving. Lucy was lost in her own world, fucking the girl beneath her. She grabbed Onas leg and lifted it over her shoulder, pushing herself ever deeper into the petite girl. She groaned at the tightness of the girl. Ona groaned deeply, swearing and muttering between English and Catalan. Lucy was working her body hard, all that pent up anger being used on her body, it only made Ona more wet, building up another orgasm.

Lucy could feel the base of the strap hitting her perfectly.

“You’re taking it so well baby. You didn't even make me go slow, you’re so good. So good for me.”

Lucy's words pushed Ona further to her climax. Her body was sweating underneath Lucys, the girl's stamina was a curse and a blessing.

“I’m going to come Lucy.”

“No, just a little more baby. Wait for me, just a little more.”

Ona gritted her teeth as Lucy used her body to chase her climax, her own knot in her stomach was stepping dangerously close to the edge. She knew if she came Lucy wouldn't stop, and she didn't think she could take that kind of work on her body right now. So she tried her best to hold on.

Lucy's hips moved a fraction deeper inside the Spaniard, getting herself closer to her end goal. But it only made it harder for Ona.

“L-L.”

“Shhh baby.” Lucy brought her hand up to stroke Ona’s sweaty head. “You can take it. Just a little more. Give me a little more.” She grunted, closing her eyes, as her clit started to throb. She looked down at the beautiful girl below. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lucy, there was so much love in those eyes, so much trust. Pushing Lucy closer.

Ona sucked in her breath, she closed her eyes, her head was throbbing from the pressure of it all. Until she heard that unmistakable groan from the girl above.

“Fuck, I’m coming.”

Lucys hips pushed deeper into Ona, the girl let out a high pitched cry as she was finally allowed to come. Lucy let out a deep groan, her hips never stopping, until her body reached that perfect release, pushing the girl deeper into the mattress.

“Fuck.” Lucy panted into Ona’s sweaty neck. She gently pulled out of the younger girl, flopping beside her.

“You okay?” Lucy looked over at Ona.

Ona smiled. “So good.”

The girls caught their breath. Lucy slipped off the harness. Ona rolled over to her girlfriend, and began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting her sweaty skin. Lucy gathered Ona’s hair in one hand and guided her down her stomach.

“Give me your mouth baby.”

Ona happily did what she was told, and made her way down Lucy's body, kissing her abs on the way down. She slowly kissed her hips, then slowly made her way down to the crease of Lucys lips. But she didn't touch her where she needed her. She slowly kissed over her wet lips instead, and began to kiss her thighs. She knew Lucy didn't have the patience for her teasing. The older brunette grabbed her chin.

“Keep teasing me, and I’ll fuck you over that balcony and let your little girlfriend see how loud you can be.”

Ona chuckled. “I love you.” She smirked.

Lucy groaned. This girl was such a fucking tease. She smiled and stroked Ona’s face lovingly. “I love you baby. Now let me come in that pretty mouth.”

Ona wrapped her lips around Lucy's swollen clit. Lucy hissed at the first touch, she wasn't going to last long at all. Ona moaned as her girlfriend's arousal soaked her tongue, she began to suckle on the bundle of nerves just the way she knew Lucy loved. The older brunette, entangled her fingers into Ona’s long hair and started to fuck her face. Ona moaned at the grip on her hair as Lucy used her body once more to get off.

“Just like that. You look so beautiful like this.”

Ona moaned at Lucy's words. The girl grinded her hips into her mouth as Ona’s tongue hit her clit over and over again.

“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She pulled Ona closer into her core, keeping the girl where she needed her. Ona felt Lucy’s juices cover her tongue, she groaned at the amount of sheer wetness that flowed into her mouth.

“Onaaa.” Lucy looked down at the girl, her tongue lapped up at her soaking cunt.

She let Ona stay there for a little while, until it got too much. She moved her head away, laughing at Ona’s pout when the girl didnt want to move. Ona laid next to Lucy kissing her neck and snuggling next to her girlfriend.

“Best holiday ever.” Ona whispered.

“Hmm and it's only the first day.”

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso community #woso #lucy bronze #woso fanfics #woso smut #lucy bronze smut #ona batlle #ona batlle sm #ona batlle smut

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pandorasfavorite · 2 months

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can u do a dom x fem!reader and basically shes an interviewer at wwe and dating dom and decided to try the pheromone perfume thing on him and it drives him wild and then smut 🤭

Perfume is Powerful

I'm clawing at the walls writing this.... and were pretending baby boy is in his Champion era.

You and Dominik have been dating for close to a year but no one knows. There have been rumors, but of course, there was no concrete evidence, you guys were careful. You hate to be a woman who is displeased by her boyfriend... the sex is great every time without fail. But part of you longs for something more feverish, quick, risky. Anytime yall fuck it's passionate and in bed, you want that movie type of sex. The kind that makes you throw your head back and have your mouth muffled by his big hands while he plows into you. Truly when Dominik steps into work he is instantly into character, but regardless his character is still in love with you....

You are dressed up in a business casual type outfit, a skirt that was a bit shorter than normal, that the cameras couldn't see. But your shirt was skimpy, covered by a coat that would conceal you during the interview. What brought the whole thing was the new perfume you bought, all the reviews say it makes their boyfriends go crazy, so you had to try it out. You roll the perfume onto the sides of your neck, your wrists, and just a bit on the insides of your thighs...just in case.

Dominik has yet to come to the interview but all the cameras were set up when it goes live. Dominik couldn't be around you before the interview otherwise his character wouldn't be as pronounced, and it would be too obvious. He walks in with that usual swagger his face etched with a frown, that mean look always gave you goosebumps in the best way. You couldn't help but smile and Dominik was holding back, his lip just barely quirked up at the sight of you before he suppressed it. The directors told you both it was time. You and Dominik stood nearly shoulder to shoulder facing the camera. "3...2...1...were live!" the director yelled.

You smile directly at the camera to start your introduction, "I'm joined by NXT champion Dominik Mysterio, who got a front row seat to his opponents match for tonight, that his father set up. How are you feeling going in?", you turn to ask him and immediately you are struck. Dominik looks bent out of shape all of the sudden, his jaw is tight as if it was wired shut and his fist is clenched to his side. He shakes his head and coughs trying to play it off, "Well, my back hurts from carrying this company on my back for past almost two years now. I already beat Dragon Lee twice with my dad in his corner". Dominik speaks to the camera but its clear to you that his mind is elsewhere, his hand is twitching at its side now...towards you.

You smile at his cocky response moving on to one more question with your own twist, "Standing here with Mr. 'Dirty' Dominik Mysterio has been a great pleasure, we have one more question for you.".

Dominik swallows and you noticed he has started to sweat, pulling at his shirt to get some air. "Yea".

Your directors nodded at you, they knew of this news, but Dominik is just now finding out on live television. "What is your advice for a new wrestler such as myself?", the roars of the crowd were booming loud enough for the cameras to pick up on. Dominik's eyes went comedically wide and he nearly dropped his belt right off his shoulder. He breathes shallowly, he gathers his bearing just enough to say, "You don't need any advice". This means Dominik had complete confidence in your abilities. You turn your attention back to the camera and you smile. The crew instantly packed up their things and rushed out of the room in a matter of 30 seconds, on their way to other segments.

The door clicks shut and you hear Dominik's belt smack on the ground. He unbuckles his belt, ripping it off of his body and he rushes towards you. His large hands grasp and squeeze your waist, his nose nustling into your neck, and then you hear a loud muffled moan. His mouth is open sucking on your neck while he takes deep breaths, inhaling the natural smell the perfume brought out. Your fingers run through his hair, and you giggle at his reaction, "You okay baby?".

Dominik thrusts your body against him, with no space left for yourself. "You smell good", he says in an uncharacteristic deep voice, your eyes light up. You kiss his cheek, "Don't I always?".

"This is different, mierda mami. You're driving me crazy", in a second you feel his teeth scrape across your collar bone. His hands work at the buttons of your skirt pulling it down till it falls to the floor. He tosses his shirt of quickly and sinks to his knees to connect his lips to the soft of your legs. You spread your legs just enough for Dominik to get between them and the moment he does the groans at the same smell, his hand falling from your leg to his cock. He lays his forehead on one of your legs and his eyes are squeezed shut, you rub his head trying to see what's going on. "Dominik? What's wrong?", your voice is overflowing with concern, you didn't think he'd react this strongly. "I think I'm gonna cum", he sputters out, his fingers leaving red marks on your thighs. You can't control the gasp that flies out of your mouth, you knew that was going to be burned into your mind for a year... maybe two.

You sink to your knees in front of him, your hands cradling his face now... not that it helped considering you put it on your wrists as well. "Do you need a minute?", you ask so sweetly. He answers with a deep inhale, nearly tilting his head back at the pleasure you bring to him just by your natural pheromones. God the way he was acting you didn't need any prep, he could slide right in. "I need it now hermosa, tell me you can take it, tell me mami", he looks up at you with wide, glossy, dilated eyes that take your breath away. "I can take it", you whisper to him trying to diffuse some of the tension he is feeling.

His face splits into a major grin and he pushes your thighs apart so he can get in between them. In that moment he gets close to you, only to push you back by the chest, a hand behind your head when it hits the floor. You lay on your back, your feet flat on the floor and your legs spread. Dominik pulled off your coat but simply unbuckled your bra from under the shirt, tossing it off to the side. His patience was wearing thin, he pulled your shirt just above your boobs and his hands instantly go to touch them. His mouth follows and the closer he gets to the smell of you he can feel himself lose control over again. Another groan of pleasure and a bit of pain from denial brings him back to his twitching cock. "I can't be easy, I have to fuck you-tell me-", you sit up on your elbows for just a moment to look at him. "Fuck me", you say with absolute certainty.

He follows your instruction, pulling out his cock quickly and pushing into you with one fluid motion, the girth stretching you in the most pleasurable way. Your mouth falls open with a moan/whimper. "I know mami, it's going to feel so good in just a second", he says like a promise, though he was feeling as if he was going to cum on the spot. You tug at his hair, your wrist right by his face, the smell driving him to a frenzy, he thrusts into you at a relentless pace. The sounds of his hips smacking against your ass was loud enough to echo, your moans come out loud and high-pitched... too loud. Dominik think the sounds from your mouth are the hottest thing he's ever heard but you both cant risk getting caught. His hand clasps over your mouth, his hair dangling in front of him, his hips working rhythmically, his body looking like a Greek god. He slows down and goes deep inside of you, groaning as you moan, "I'll give you some advice if you want to walk- don't wear this shit. My cock was hard the moment I got close to you", he rasped into your ear.

The sensation felt so good, his deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you that only he could reach. Every roll and rock of his hips made your walls clench around him and you felt it coming before you even realized it. Your head just barely tilted back and your back arched, Dominik knew what was coming just by that. He pressed you back down harshly, pressing down on your stomach just to the point you could feel that pressure. "Cum. You know you go first", he grits out feeling himself getting close too. As you cum your pussy convulsed around Dominik's cock and the pleasure was astronomical for him. The wet slick and almost painful tightness brought him over the edge moments after you. He cums with a groan, his face falling into the side of your neck.

He inhales and pulls back with a groan, his face made as he glares at you. "You still smell so fucking good. I just came mami-", now he sounds like he's whining at the effect you have on him.

#dominik smut #dom smut #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio x reader smut #dominik mysterio x you smut #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik my bbg #dominik mysterio fluff #dom dom #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio fanfiction #wwe #monday night raw #the judgement day #the judgment day wwe

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hwaightme · 10 months

Text

Cat named Mars (catboy!hwa hcs)

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

😻 pairing: catboy!seonghwa x gn!reader 😻 genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, demon? to cat? to roommate? to lover? 😻 summary: the longest bulletpoints about what it would be like to have catboy!hwa as your bf - the whole story 😻 wordcount: 4.5k 😻 warnings/tags: editing? who is she, unhinged crack part nyah, catboy!hwa, cute catboy!hwa, soft and polite catboy!hwa- okay i will stop |, language, food/eating, mention of others not treating animals well, sweater paws, mention of adorable nerdy hobbies, domestic, cuddle, a surprise about how hwa ended up being a cat in the first place, both past and present tense used, mainly lowercase 😻 taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ 😻 a/n: let me drift in the soft and fluffy catboy!hwa lands until waterbomb strikes, for my own healing; my braincells are out of service but i hope you enjoy <3 all reblogs, thoughts and notes appreciated! big hugs!

once upon a time he was a cat

there was never a moment to think about anything except work, and maybe about groceries and bills (but even those things normally hit you at two o'clock in the morning, leading you to check your phone and make make amendments to your schedule in a panicked state). there was never any room for a cat. until there was.

of course there just had to be an adorable kitty, at most maybe a couple of years old, lean and with jet black fur that was surprisingly shiny for an abandoned cat, sitting square in the middle of a cardboard box on the side of the street that formed a part of your regular path and commute to and from work. in the morning, you had locked eyes with the cat, heart bleeding and hurting for the poor creature but secretly hoping that someone else would take it - you couldn't take care of it, could you? in the evening, you were huffing and puffing with the cardboard box in your hands and the cat happily meowing, its tail stretched out upwards into a chimney pipe, slightly tilted to the side at the very end. you read somewhere that it meant the cat was happy, so you were going to take that as a good sign.

sat on the floor at the entrance to your apartment, you eyed the beautiful creature as it kept on purring and trying to hop out of the box and towards you, while you were insistent on keeping it in, lifting a cardboard flap repeatedly in an effort to prevent it from jumping. so. now you had a cat. there was nothing in the box, and on the outside, in horrific scrawl was a message suggesting whoever took the kitty either "kept him, or throw him away, whatever". non-humans. "that's who your previous owners were, right kitty?" you mumbled to no one in particular, but it seemed that the cat picked up on your speech and inched closer to you, ears moving like disks to pick up signals. "so you are a he, yeah?" a meow. so you were right. at least the beasts from this cat's past got one thing right. "do you have a name? actually… you know what do you want a… new name?" you were fast on the attachment scale, you realised. it had been barely a few minutes and you were already trying to name the cat who you had not even checked for diseases, nor had any basic facilities to take care of him. but he was more than excited by the prospect, and mewled in what sounded like gratitude. you began to list off names, eventually boring the kitty, and he started to falter in his enthusiasm. all until one name rang a bell.

"Mars?"

and that was how you ended up with a black cat named Mars.

by the power of actually having to shake paws with a cat, and you promising to get him quality snacks, you managed to get Mars checked at the vet who confirmed everything was fine, and was equally as amazed as you that he was so well groomed and neat. while you knew you did not have much of a right to do this, your inner pride still swelled and, to yourself, you said that 'yes, my Mars is really neat and handsome'.

you took to addressing Mars as 'your handsome boy' and that seemed to wake him up and get him speeding towards you faster than anything else could. also 'the prettiest star' and 'my universe' and 'marvellous Mars' all worked wonders.

at the same time, he was shy, as if he did not want to disturb you with his antics. always tip-toeing around you as silently as a cat could (which was very silent, to the point where he jumpscared you a couple of times but that is okay because excuse me did you see his precious face????) and never taking up much space, even though… hello? Mars? you are a cat?? he would rarely ever hop on any surfaces unless you explicitly told him to do so - this had left you convinced that your cat was well-versed in human-speak. he never meowed for food until you had told him to vocalise and tell you if he was very hungry, and gave him a rundown of his eating schedule and how it was important that he drank water. he was the politest cat you had ever met, while at the same time his timidness made you wonder if you were in any way intimidating. not once did Mars ever enter your bedroom, even though you left the door wide open for him, preferring to crash on the couch or on the floor of some other room. the first couple of times you joked about it saying "are you scared you'll see something, Marsy?" but when your cat actually looked away and hunched over, you were convinced that you hit the nail on the head, and that you were probably either hallucinating or were slowly turning into Doctor Dolittle.

but you were persistent. and insistent. and you took the little blanket with kuromi decor on it from him (yes this was that extreme of a situation) and put it at the edge of your bed. climbing in and covering yourself in the many layers, you looked at the terrified figure hovering at the entrance to the room, boba eyes as wide as saucers. he kept on looking at the blanket, then at you, then again at the blanket, then again at you, probably wondering if he could snatch the thing and make a run for it. you were on the verge of giving up at this point. sleepy, with work tomorrow, you were not about to engage in a whole war with your cat.

"you know what, if you want to stay, you can stay. i promise i will not hurt you, nor will i push you out. if you want to come closer, do. if you just want to take the blanket and leave, you can do that. your choice. i won't be hurt. i promise. you are already super brave and i love you either way. okay, Mars?" he did not respond, frozen in place. "my handsome boy?" his head twisted towards you. "precious?" a blink. another blink. one paw in front of the other. "are you actua- wow! I am so proud of you my baby! my brave boy!" you were cooing praises at him like there was nothing else in the world that existed as soon as he hopped onto the bed, foregoing the blanket and making a beeline towards your face, as though that was his read source of comfort. he was afraid to look away, focusing on your every expression as you patted his head and let him nuzzle into you. "you are so so brave, you know that? i know this is hard, so if at any point you want to leave, you can, okay?" purring louder than a powerdrill was the response you received. along with kitty cuddles through the whole night. because apparently, your cat was a koala all along.

and even in his cuddles he was gentle. you did not think you had ever seen him use his claws… ever. except maybe on a few toys but as soon as you were in sight poof gone, soft Mars activated. he was like your personal heater, careful to wrap himself closer to you not to push you out, but to instead complete whatever curled up position you were lying in. if you were stretched out to the side, he would find a place. if you were in a ball? he would find a place again. if you were lying down straight for whatever reason? give him a couple of nights to get comfortable, and now you had the ultimate cat comforter either on you, or around your head. and yes, you were blessed with a cat who barely shed, somehow. some of your friends who had cats almost cursed you when they found out, but you only smiled, looking at your lockscreen. nowadays, even during the workday you were thinking of Mars at least a little bit.

maybe you were spoiling him a little bit, but it was too adorable to see him watching you play legend of zelda or animal crossing on your nintendo switch. and when he saw that you got a gift from a friend in the form of a lego set? well. you were literally afraid to open the box because of how hyper your cat got - perhaps not today…

you fell into the most pleasant routines with Mars, from waking up and going to bed together, to eating breakfast and then 'parting ways' for you to attend to human business and him to his 'cat business'. it was cute. it made your head sing. you were happier than you had ever been. all thanks to that one random day. one random box. and one black haired kitty who radiated sunshine.

it was the eve of the one year anniversary of you being the proud owner of, or how you preferred to say it, the best friend of 'L/n Mars', and you were as sure as his ears were pointy in wanting to go all out with your celebration - minus the guests (because the last time you had invited a male friend of yours over your cat turned into a whole other creature and then sulked for at least three days until you took a day off work and called it 'Mars day', but you just assumed it was some territorial thing). you had set up little themed decorations, found a cute little headband with the number '1' that is suitable and safe for a cat and would not hurt his head, got a matching, human-sized one for yourself, made a whole dinner for your favourite kitty from scratch - the ingredients all checked with the vet who you now casually called by first name because you did not dare ever give Mars anything that might harm him and would rather panic call the doctor.

you were sat at the coffee table, so that it would be easier for Mars to reach the food (you set pillows on the floor for extra comfort, for which he thanked you with a loud meow), and had your respective mini-cakes set out in front of either of you. you had given up on making him ever eat kitty food - another peculiar quirk of your cat, so the 'cake', which was more a protein gift than anything, was fully home made. but Mars was happy. more than happy. if cats could smile, that was exactly what he was doing, right at you, squinting his eyes, threatening to hop over the table. you told him to wait, and quietly whispered your gratitude to him. much to your delight, he waited and listened, clinging onto every word.

"you know, i really think you are an angel. before you i was quite… how do i say this… life was just passing by. and now i look forward to it. and to be able to see you every day, to have fun days with you, to talk with you… all of that brings me so much joy and i hope that i can make you at least a little bit happy too. i wish you could tell me what you want, of course, but i really do think you know what i am thinking, what i am saying. and i hope that i am right in saying that i can understand you a bit too. you really are the smartest, most precious Mars. light of my life. i love you so much, my gorgeous, and here is to many years more, cheers~" you clinked your glass with orange juice with his water bowl, and giggled when he took a couple of neat laps to match with your gulps, only to lick his lips and hop off the pillows and go under the table.

in a matter of seconds, he reappeared at your side of the table, and poked at your lap with his paw, looking up at you with his bead-like eyes that seemed to contain the whole universe in them. you pat him between his ears, scratched under his chin, delighting him, and then stretched out your legs, gesturing towards your legs to signify that lap-napping season was open. Mars did not need to be told twice, and soon enough you had a black cat curled up on your lap, purring away, mewling a couple of times when you started eating to remind you that he was hungry too.

"so you want me to feed you now, too? aren't you cheeky-"

as if you could refuse him. you would be lying if you said you could. so there you were, on the floor and feeding Mars, quiet music playing from your phone, not quite sure if you could be any happier.

"i love you."

quite the contrast to what happened the next morning.

suddenly he is a catboy

when you wake up, Mars is nowhere in sight, and even when you call him, to which he would reply with at least a meow, you are only met with silence. you are alarmed, but wait in bed for just a little longer to see if Mars would come to you. nothing. you call again, 'pspspsps' him, all to no avail. only the breeze and the birds outside, along with inexplicable rustling from another room in your apartment. you raise an eyebrow and prop yourself up on your elbows. more rustling. a door opening, which sounds like the closet where you kept your warmer clothes. what is going on? another door closing. footsteps? you are on high alert. grabbing your phone and the light saber model which you had made a while back and kept safe by your bed, as it turned out exactly for this kind of moment, you head out to face whatever, or whoever is the source of the sound.

you are stealth itself, rounding the corner with weapon in hand, ready to face the attacker - or so you thought. until you come face to face with the tall, young man dressed head to toe in your clothing, namely a tracksuit that you had accidentally gotten in the wrong size and then somehow ended up being refunded for without returning the item, and a beanie that he had pulled over his head. spikes of jet black hair are poking from under the hat in all directions, and his deep brown eyes are widened in shock as he freezes on the spot and stares back at you.

"so, what the hell are you doing in my clothes?"

"y/n- i-"

"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"

"i can explain-"

"nope do NOT get closer what-"

"Mars…. i…. it's me… your uh… cat."

"what?"

he looks embarrassed beyond belief, and crumbles to the floor, sliding until his back is against the wardrobe. wrapping his arms around his knees, he is scared to look up at you, worried that you would never recognise him, never accept him. this is exactly what he has been dreading all this time, and was heartbroken when the curse was finally broken, despite him technically being free now. he does not want to be away from you. this is his home. you are his home. you are the one who showed him true love.

"if it is okay… may i take this beanie off for a second?"

"i didn't even let you put it on in the first place," he winces. you feel a little bad, but hold your ground. his eyes sparkle in a way that is a little too familiar, reminding you of a certain someone. the cat who he mentioned. your precious cat. Mars.

"okay… here goes…" he slides the material off, making you gasp. hidden under the beanie is a pair of cat ears, fluffy, the same colour as his hair, and twitching as he adjusts after having flattened them to minimise their visibility.

"yo what."

"i have… a tail too."

"WHAT?"

he is not joking. a black tail to go with the black ears, sliding out from under the oversized hoodie. you are not sure what happened next, but you wake up on the sofa with the man, who you are now guessing is some human cat hybrid version of Mars fanning you with a magazine.

"I AM SORRY, Y/N PLEASE WAKE UP I AM SO- oh you are awake thank goodness i missed you i am really so sorry…" he drops the magazine almost instantly, leaning towards you and wrapping you in a warm embrace, much to your surprise. you yelp, but the softness, as well as his ears moving in the cutest way while he hugs you make you accept the gesture, and return it.

you never thought you would hear a grown man purr exactly like a cat, but here you are. well, you never thought you would have a catboy in your apartment either, but this is already happening so...

"so, Mars?"

"yeah?"

"you have some explaining to do."

after what turned out to be at least two hours of you and him going back and forth about what had unfolded and what was the history of the young catboy's state, you find out that, in reality, his name is Park Seonghwa, and that he is a demon, of all things. that is right, a demon. set out to curse and haunt and spread sin. but no, he is cast out of hell because he is too kind and soft. and so he had been cursed to be a cat, until for a full year, someone could give him their whole heart, their full love. while he explains this to you with a fondness unlike anything you had ever seen before in your life (except in what you perceived from cat Mars's eyes), you begin to blush, realising that all this time, you were talking to and confessing to him. Seonghwa. this handsome man who was always by your side and-

oh. and he was sleeping in the same bed as you. just great. you flush an even deeper shade and cover your face. and he had been jealous, not territorial, when your friend had come over.

"are you okay?"

"so okay."

"hug?"

"i, uh-"

"you give really good hugs."

"Park Seonghwa do you really want to make me suffer?"

"I AM SO SORRY ARE YOU HURT? DID I SAY SOMETHING WRONG I AM SO SORRY?!"

"no you are too cute. come here"

catboy!hwa headcanons

is initially cautious because well… you got used to him being a cat and now suddenly you have a whole man with cat ears and a tail walking around your house. he catches on to the fact that you are kind of shy around him too, but he does not push it, at least not straight away.

because that would mean that he has to get over his own shyness towards you extra quickly, and that proves to be difficult when it hits him that, well, he is now a person too, and you are a person, and he fell in love with you, and you told him you loved him before - on occasion he just walks around blushing with his ears pressed flat to his head but don't point it out he is already struggling ;~;

you might have to be the one to initiate the contact again because he is literally too scared to overstep anything and everything - even when you bought him his own first few sets of clothes as a 'human edition anniversary gift'. you approach him to give him a hug and he groups up as if he is about to dive into a pool, hands to his chest, eyes wide. but is he moving anywhere? no. does his purring give him away? yes. after that the two of you gently reintroduce physical touch and it makes you realise just how much you miss Mars, particularly because Seonghwa is still a little distant for understandable reasons. But you both are trying your best.

if you massage his head and scratch behind his hears he will melt - his favourite thing in the world is having his head rest on your lap with his eyes closed while you ruffle his hair really slowly and run your fingers through it.

desperately misses the times when you would call him handsome and pretty and smart, and every single affectionate word in the universe so he tries his damn hardest to get you to do that again, first by trying to be nice and helping you around the house, and when the results are not to his satisfaction and when cuddle sessions are pretty much the norm, but words of affection aren't… he pouts and openly asks you why you don't call him that anymore. you squeak the words out but the reaction makes every next attempt easier than anything.

he is scared to approach your room again, though, and this time you say nothing because well, this is a whole other territory. a couple of months pass before you consider and that is because you find him sleeping on the floor a couple of times, curled up with is tail covering his face a little, and he said it was because "he is scared otherwise and here is safe". so you take out a futon for now, but he is more than happy with this progress.

he learns how to cook both from you and from tutorials online, and then starts remembering what he used to cook a long time before - you basically stop cooking altogether because now he is insistent on waking you up with breakfast, packing you lunch and greeting you with dinner. he sometimes gets a bit too experimental, but you do not mind it too much because at least he cleans everything up.

you think you can ignore the lego in the corner of your living room? no :) it is a date now. a lego building date. for four hours straight. on the floor. him running this ship like you run your team at work. and his focus, his professional approach to the matter is a little too attractive, you admit to yourself. and somewhere along the way that translates into you planting a kiss on Hwa's cheek. this is the only time over the whole four hours that he drops the pieces he is holding in his hands, gazing at you, not quite sure if what he felt just now was real or not.

but nope, judging by your attempts to avoid his gaze this was very real. so he gets real bold real quick and guess who finds themselves trapped by two tones arms on either side of you, back on the floor, a curious and mischievous face a mere inch away? that's right, you. wants to build a starship, accidentally builds a relationship along with it - a major win.

there isn't ever a platonic stage really. an extensive awkward stage? sure. a roommates-maybe stage? sure. two people who like each other? sure. and now, after many months of you settling into a new routine, two people who love each other and keep telling each other that.

he finds a job that he can do remotely, and in this way remains mainly at home and around the neighbourhood with his beloved hobbies and balancing you out. in this way he now starts to sneak support to pay bills and to buy you little gifts (as a little apology for taking your clothes sometimes - read often)

it is not Hwa's fault that he misses you very quickly. it just happens. then one thing leads to another and he is lying on your shared bed hugging a hoodie of yours. eventually that leads to him dragging a couple more items out of your wardrobe and making a little nest out of them - only then does his worry go down and he goes for a nap while curled up in a ball.

when he knows that you should be arriving soon he starts walking up to the window, then away then back to the window, and away again. cycle repeats itself until he can spot you from a distance, and then he just stays by the window.

he helps you redecorate and rearrange your apartment, considering that you now have a 5'10'' human cat instead of one you can hold with two hands, and shocks you with just how many details he remembers about you, down to allergies, what colours irritate you when it comes to interiors, what plants you had to give away to keep him 'in cat form' safe - even though yes, he would not eat them, but how were you to know that?

he remembers all your special days, and hopes you remember his, too. thankfully, he knows his own birthday and using cat mathematics, converted from demon to cat to human. and so, now you can celebrate him wholeheartedly, only this time that also involves you taking him to go have a picnic under the cherry blossoms.

you and Seonghwa go to pick out and buy him a phone together, and you spend a whole day teaching him how to use it. soon enough your own phone goes off with notifications from him. he sends you fun things throughout the day and if he is busy, he sends you a selfie or a heartfelt message.

likes to curl up and read poetry with you. doesn't matter if out loud of in silence. what matters to him is that you are close. and good luck trying to get away - he has a tail and it is wrapped around your leg like an alert system so that he can tackle you right back to the couch or the bed. because it is you and Seonghwa time.

occasionally sings you lullabies that he either overheard somewhere or remembers, breaking into a smile when you wriggle closer to him and fall asleep, stress melting away from your every feature.

overall you are now living with a catboy Hwa cast out of hell for being too nice, who also turned out to be a big nerd, with heart eyes for you, sweater paws instead of actual paws, the occasional feline habits still coming through (like him rubbing his face against your shoulder, or your own face, or him hissing when frustrated or threatened, or him having the widest stretch in the morning, or… actually he is still part cat so, you have to deal with it), and all the love to give. thankfully not in the form of something he hunted. he buys birds at a store now. meant to be cooked. human-friendly.

he brings you a limited edition starship instead. if you display it he will look at you like he is falling in love with you all over again - if that is even possible because that would mean stopping loving you now, and that is the one thing he cannot do <3

😻 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @pocketjoong-reads @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @burnmepls @pyeonghongrie-main @archivesummer @little-angel-k @marsstarxhwa

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kind reblog, much love!

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piratefishmama · 4 months

Text

I Wish | Part 3

He barely recognised his friends. He was just glad they were themselves though. That somewhere along the way to a stardom he didn’t remember going through, his band hadn’t lost anyone. That someone hadn’t been replaced.

That happened a lot, didn’t it? Bands losing members due to circumstance, arguments over direction, infighting... but they were there. Older, Gareth had a little grey in his hair, Jeff had shaved his down completely, he didn’t have braces anymore, taller too, neither as weathered as Eddie but… definitely older, and Dougie...

Fuck, he'd slimmed down.

Eddie didn’t know if that was an improvement or not, he instantly found himself missing what had once been, he was still big, still broad, but... where disarming chub that Eddie had on more than one occasion fallen asleep on had been, soft muscle resided in its place and Eddie found himself wondering just how the biggest of four of them had done it. Whether it'd been through healthy choices or godawful ones like himself.

It was muscle though, it looked like healthy muscle, so... probably healthier than him. Good for him.

“Oh look who's joined us in the land of the living!” Gareth chirped, his mouth half full of pancake, syrup dripping down his lips.

Jeff, to his left “Saw Louie stormin out kicking up a storm, that shit for good this time?” Asked with a tone laced in caution, as if the subject was touchy. God what had Eddie done in the past that made his friends think they couldn’t rib him about relationships?

That was like... their whole thing back in high school, Eddie, and his disastrous non-existent dating life. He’d trusted them and them alone with who he was, with what he liked, and while there were the obvious ‘do you find me hot?’ questions at first, the playful ribbing, the teasing, the jokes only friends could share… he had them. They weren’t afraid of him. Afraid to hurt him because they knew they never could.

How had he lost that?

Eddie looked to Steve in a bid for help, Steve wasted no time in coming to his aid “One can only hope” with obvious exhaustion in his retort, his hands on his hips, a deadpan expression that Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling at.

Gareth snorted a little laugh and followed with “Amen to that, dude.”

“He’ll be back though, he always is.” Dougie piped up around his own bite full of some oat concoction, it looked gross. “Once he sees his job offers dry u—what?” The other two were giving it the kill signal, twin expressions of panic, as if he’d said too much… god who was he? “You fuckers know I’m right, Eddie knows I’m right, he’s a clout chasing pretty boy riding Eddie’s coattails to fame, just cause you’re too chicken shit to say anything to him doesn’t mean I am.”

Eddie looked to Steve again as Dougie spoke, only to receive a silently raised brow in return, he was on his own. “Well—” Eddie began, the other three froze, even Dougie’s attention was on him now, all three clearly expecting something “not anymore! Dunno what I saw in him, but I’m done, Steve, if you would… uhm… make sure he can’t contact me again?”

“Want me to block his number?”

“What?” Eddie whispered behind his hand, brows furrowed in confusion, block? A number? What?

“I’ll sort it.” Steve would sort it, and of that Eddie had zero doubts. He wouldn’t doubt the genie about anything ever again. Louie and his overly manicured entire self would never darken his doorstep again, of that he was certain.

“Holy shit, who are you and where did Eddie go?” The panic gone, Gareth seemed genuinely surprised by his declaration. He'd missed too much, too many things he didn’t know, too many things he’d done that he couldn’t apologise for because he didn’t know what he'd be apologising for. it'd be cheap, it'd be pointless.

Eddie hated everything. He could have probably lived with it, with his lost time, had this not been his first experience of the day with people he recognised. He couldn’t. Not like this. Not with his friends looking at him like he were a bomb ready to go off.

He could put on a brave face though, even if the muscles in his face felt foreign, even if he felt tired... he could act the part. “Turnin over a new leaf I guess... self reflection, new path, bachelor life never hurt me too bad, right?” His friends shared looks, a silent communication happening between them that made Eddie feel isolated, othered, outside, and alone.

He wanted out. To run.

And as if he knew, Steve’s hand found his shoulder and squeezed grounding him in place. He was there, the Genie was there, he'd fix it if Eddie wished him to. He wasn’t stuck, Steve just wanted him to live the day. Experience it. Be brave, it wasn’t permanent.

Jeff broke the silence though, he stood up, crossed the distance between them, that gigantic chasm that seemed so impossible to cross seconds before, and clapped his hands to both of Eddie's biceps, his straight toothed smile blinding “nice to have you back then, Eds, now eat your fuckin breakfast an let’s get this stupid talk show shit over with, yeah?” Okay... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Fuck the ‘old' Eddie, the Eddie who Eddie himself had never met and never wanted to meet, he had his friends, he'd be fine. Maybe he could even stay.

“Sounds good, what's for breakfast?”

“For you? Nothin but the good stuff, man, ordered you some wholemeal toast with avocado an egg whites” so many words, so little recognition in his eyes.

What the fuck was an avocado? Was that a real thing?

“...Can I not have pancakes like Gareth?” Gareth with his syrupy monstrosity.

Dougie scoffed around his oatmeal, swallowing before he responded because at some point during the last thirty years he’d developed manners. “With your cholesterol? Fuck off, dude, we don’t want you having a heart attack on stage.” Steve only offered him a sympathetic smile in consolation. The beautiful bastard. “It's avocado toast or oatmeal, your choice old man.”

Strike being able to stay. He wanted to go home.

Eddie didn’t like Avocados.

He decided this the moment a semi-hard glob of green mush touched his tongue, lightly seasoned, mixed with something tangy, he hated it, hated the smell, hated the unexpected texture, hated the taste but he ate it. He pushed through like a little champ when every instinct he had told him to rebel against it, to demand French fries or something stupid that definitely didn’t come as a breakfast food.

Maybe he could swing fast food later, see what the future held for the fast food joints.

Later seemed too busy though, the moment they were done with breakfast, the band were whisked away into some kind of car, something way fancier than Eddie had ever seen, to get to the venue and prepare. Hair, makeup, the usual routine that Eddie wished he had an ounce of experience with because back at the Hideout it was just… them climbing up on the rickety old stage Bev’s late husband put together on the fly and letting loose.

There was no pre-gig warming up, no hoard of professionals tugging them into various chairs and rooms to make sure their hair was the correct brand of artful frizz, or mess of floof, or women with brushes coated in powders to minimize the shine from the studio lights that’d make their skin too shiny for the cameras to work with.

Wardrobe was fool proof as they were presented with options that ranged from smart casual to red carpet. Everything suitable for a talk show and nothing fit for a ‘metal’ band, which was strange considering they were advised to go for something they could move in as they were going to be performing during their run through, maybe more than once to make sure all angles were covered.

It was a lot, it was a hell of a lot, Eddie kept finding Steve in his peripherals though. Always there, silent, and observant off to the side, close enough to step in should anyone cross any boundaries but staying out of the way of the professionals so they could work unhindered.

It was grounding in a way, him there, even if he looked so very human despite what he knew Steve to really look like, having him there, knowing the man could get him out of the chaos at any time was grounding.

All those people touching him, all the noise around him, sounds, smells, lights, the pushing, and pulling, and the tugging on his hair, he wanted to scream, he wanted to get away from it all, he wanted—

“Alright, five minute break.” Steve stepped in, his voice firm, without room for argument. “Rockstar needs a breather.” Eddie could have kissed him, genuinely. The relief as all those professionals took a few steps back was instantaneous, that feeling only growing when Steve managed to corral them out of the room entirely, leaving just them in there.

The other band members were in their own rooms, Eddie clearly some ‘big shot’ that he didn’t quite get. Sure he was the front man but… they always said they’d be equals if they made it big. They’d always scoffed at the idea of multiple green rooms, of putting single members on pedestals, that was how shit went sideways, that was how infighting and breaking apart happened. They’d stay grounded, stay real.

They didn’t want that bullshit and yet there he was. All on his own, his friends elsewhere being prepped without him. He hated it. How had it happened? “I should be used to this, shouldn’t I?”

“What makes you think that?” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin when Steve was just. Right there. Stood beside him in the reflection of the mirror. No longer looking all that human, he looked like himself, golden and beautiful, wearing the clothes he first saw him in.

When he turned around, the human looked back at him, smiling as if he knew what Eddie was looking for. Reflections showed the truth then. Interesting.

“I’m—fuck that's a cool trick, man... but i'm a fuckin rockstar! I should be, I dunno… used to it.” At the very least his old man brain should have caught up by now, right? He should have gotten used to it all, muscle memory of thirty years having passed should have at least kicked in a little, right?

He still felt like that kid from the trailer park on the inside, still felt completely overwhelmed.

He’d just been dropped into a life with no memory of living it.

“Who said you ever got used to it?” Steve hadn’t said that. In fact Steve had painted a pretty sad story of addiction and self-destruction. “Eddie… some people aren’t meant for this kind of life, yes, you’re very talented, you’re absolutely good enough to get this far, and once you’re on stage you are incredible—” for a moment, just a moment, Eddie felt warmth, a teeny sprinkle of warm pleasure trickle through his weary soul at the easily spoken praise. “The weariness fades away and you’re… yourself, everything that you are shines through and it’s breathtaking.” Eddie really did try not to blush, but he felt the heat in his cheeks anyway, as it turned out, older men could definitely be flustered by a cute guy thoughtlessly praising them “but the rest of it… everything that goes along with it… not that I’m an expert or anything, but I don’t believe it’s who you are.”

“I can’t just adapt?” All Steve offered was that similar look of sympathy he’d had in the bathroom back at the hotel. No… no Eddie knew the answer before he’d even asked it. He’d never been able to adapt. “Why?”

“If it helps at all, there’s millions of people out there who feel seen whenever you talk about your struggles with what happens behind the glamour, so many people who love you and support you for the very things that make you struggle so much, for the fact that you keep going, you made it despite them. I’m not going into the why’s and the how’s, but adapting really isn’t something you’re very good at, Eddie, there’s no changing that. You get overwhelmed, that’s just you.”

“Can I wish to change it?” Did he even want to? Not really, something told him it’d backfire somehow, not by Steve’s design, not on purpose, but… it just would.

“You can… I can work my magic, but you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be the person your friends love, the louder than life DnD loving nerd, you wouldn’t be that anymore, and I like that person, he’s very sweet, so I really don’t want to.” There it was. At least Steve wasn’t just letting him make that mistake. “There’s a life out there that is perfect for you, and trust me you will find it, this just isn’t it. Do you want to go home?” Steve wasn’t going to force him to stay, he wanted Eddie to experience it for this very reason, to see the truth behind one of his biggest dreams, see the chaos behind the curtain of a life that maybe he just wasn’t suited to.

He could go home if he wanted to, but… “No. Not yet. I wanna experience it, just once, y’know? Even if it’s gonna suck, I think you were right, I think I need to.” If only to really drive it home that maybe fame and fortune wasn’t everything.

That maybe he didn’t have to be famous, maybe he didn’t have to be some metal legend, he could just… be. And that would be okay.

“Got it.”

“Will I at least know the song we’re meant to be performing here?” Given how little he knew about his present self, the very real possibility of his music having evolved, of new songs being written, it was an issue he really should have thought about by now, but Steve snapped his fingers, an otherwordly light flashing in his hazel eyes for the briefest of moments, and then he smiled.

“You will now.” And that made him feel a little better. Just a little. Until the chaos continued and the professionals filed back in to finish their jobs, the five minutes up.

Part 5

#PirateWrites #IWishFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Genie!Steve

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ganondoodle · 1 month

Text

you know, i had a totk thought (uh oh)

soemthign thats really bothering me about the whole "actually, ganondorf didnt like the guy appearing out of nowhere marrying a hylian and just saying yep das our kingdom now and we can mine it barren under your nose and also i got laserbeam pebbles that i totally wont ever use on anyone come join me or die just bc of all of that but mainly bc the guy brought some weird tech with him that he dont like" - thing is that ......... we see almost not a single tech thing in the past (and for that matter see nothing of the oh so perfect and peaceful paradise hyrule was before big evil desert man didnt want to join our paradise- like what is the point about making the whole point of the game be -we need to restore hyrule to this paradise it once was- when you dont even see it or get to care about anything of it)

it might sound like a weird hangup but no really, the most we see is like two servant constructs, thats it, when they 'prepare for war' im pretty sure all you see is some lightly dressed ( ... is it just me or does their whole get up look alot like native american/other indingenous people too ... i still dont know how to feel about that- kinda adjacent to some of the sonau armor, the battery one i think??, also having that look...) hylians with spears, where the heck is all that tech?? is it implied to be all down in the mines hollowing out the underground (for no real reason either bc .... theres only two sonau left and no one else seems to want use nor need the tech otherwise there should have been more traces or soemthing left of it -unless it all just magically appeared out of nowhere in mostly prime condition while all shiekah tech jsut vaporized for bs non reasons just for it to be in tha game but oh dont you see its always been there lmao- so whats the point really????)

or up in the sky as most battle constructs are and they cant get them down in time bc *gestures vaguely*

or is it intentionally kept out of view bc idk seeing an army of robots on raurus side he can send out on a whim might not make him look as oh so good and perfect as they want him to look when he already got laserbeam pebbles (most of which hes been hoarding until ONE falls into hands not under his control) ?? like it just ... feels weird?? so many battle constructs that can even be a threat to link are jsut fully functioning strolling around in the present still, why wouldnt you want to use any of them to battle gan and if they DID why wouldnt you show that (no the 3 second unicorn cutscene doesnt count bc its just .. gan and his monsters isnt it) ?? (also ... why isnt there a big like battle ground , like fine you dont have to animate an army of monsters and robots clashing but... wouldnt it be cool to have you discover a giant flat plain in the underground (that magically got put under ground like gan just decided to stroll down there to get sealed lol) and its the only mostly empty field in the game littered with thousands of monster bones and dead constructs intermingled?? just to give it all a bit of weight?? evidence that it happened?? cool ass discovery????)

(also also i cannot let go of ganondorf apparently being sooooo anti tech but then clamgan uses the shiekah stuff??? shouldnt he also be against that then or is that suddendly fine bc- oh woops sorry, forgot clamgan is actually just something, not connected to gan at all actually, i mean why else would miasma turn into malice only to turn into miasma again haha none of that is connected actually what is a calamity anyway? also im sorry to bring this up again but i just cannot let go of the ppl in the present being so obsessed with using sonau tech in every part of their life now- they just lived through an apocalypse of a barely understood strange tech but CLEARLY this other even less understood strang tech is not dangerous at all lets make CARS OUT OF IT and what theres no danger in miasma and that tech existing at the same time LIKE SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE THAT IDK SEEMS LIKE A BAD COMBO--- oh sorry forgot that ceased to exist in both the world and peoples minds for *gestures vaguely* plot reasons- why why why are monsters mining the sonanium?? they dont even work with the yiga no that is also completely disconnected we dont wanna draw and interesting connections after all- whats the point if it means nothing but to be a loot box for the player-- actually, so much of totk is just a so built around throwing you into a box of toys with no substance to it- listen i know games are kinda like toys but if it doesnt make sense and offers you nothing interesting to think about even slightly whAT IS THE POINT)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk #like not to make myself sound like a better writer ............ BUT #in my rewrite rauru does that also to suck the life out of the desert more and more to force the gerudo to be depended on their trade #to both pressure them and force them better into submission #bc of the whole plot point (in my rewrite) that rauru came from the underground with his dying people bc they discovered warnings of old #about the king of a deserts nation becoming a horrible world destryoing monster and so plotting with sonia to get gan secretly sealed #and by doing that rauru seals his own fate (rauru dies and its his stone that gets taken) like the fairytale prophecy thing making people-#-do exactly what leads to it while trying to avoid it #bc gan finds out and plots against it #-ANYWAY #when i see other people talk i need to talk again even if i make little sense

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jaykaysthicthighs · 9 months

Text

End Of The Love Story | JJK

banner by @archivededits via @archivedkookie <3

excerpt | you fell in love with the new kid in class. the love blossomed to something so beautiful and yet so destroying. you destroyed him. years later and you both finally crossed paths. will there ever be a chance for that love to grow again?

genre | major angst, slight smut, minor fluff

pairing | jeon jungkook x fem!reader

warnings | bartender!jungkook, rich!reader, flashbacks between past and present, arranged marriage, strong language, emotional breakdowns, smoking, short descriptive smut, reader & jungkook hurting a lot, bittersweet ending

wc | 12k +

notes | the story is unedited, but hopefully there isn't grammar mistakes

Eight years ago (the first meeting)

You watched as the small timid boy make his way next to you. When he fully sat down, you finally took a good look at him. He was beautiful. From his big doe eyes to his well-sculpted chin. He had a long nose, but kissable; lips that pout when not intended, pink and soft. He has a mole under his lips, a scar on his cheek, and his skin was -

"I'm sorry, is there something on my face?" The boy interrupted your train of thought. You blurted out, "No. I'm sorry, that I was staring at you. Didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." The boy notices a tinge of red surfacing your cheeks. At that moment, embarrassment made a home in you. The boy reassured you that it was okay. He wondered about your name, “My name’s Jungkook. You?” With your cheeks still red, you answered, “____.” The boy smiled warmly at you, “____, that’s a pretty name.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden action. You faced forward trying to redirect your attention to the teacher, but all you could think of was the smile the boy displayed; the dimples making their debut, and its bunny-like appearance.

Present

You were finally free. Free of this marriage that has been brought upon you. Just an hour or so ago you were Mrs. Boyce, now you're not. You have been waiting for this moment for so long, and it's finally done.

You were making your way to your car when someone pulled you aside. You came face to face with your ex-husband. "Mason, what's wrong?" The man let go of your arm and hugged you. He quietly murmured, "Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to hug you one last time before I go." Even though you despised this marriage, you never hated Mason, actually, he was your rock. All those nights, days, and moments you had wanting him, missing him, needing him, Mason was always there comforting you. Just like you, Mason hated this marriage.

You hugged Mason for the last time. Tears started welling up, and you sniffled to him, "Thank you so much, Mason. For being there for me when I had no one." He gave you a big squeeze for your welcome. A few seconds later, the hug ended. Mason placed his hands between your chilled face and expressed, "I'll always be there for you, ____. Not physically, but.... spiritually?" You had your head leaned back laughing at his confusion. "Please, don't be afraid to give me a call." You shook your head and gave him your response, "I won't. Be safe, Mason." Your ex-husband gave you his infamous grin. "Will do."

You're here in a club called Jessamine with your best friend Becky. She wanted to celebrate your freedom by trying to get you laid, and part of that plan was going to a club. She dressed you up in skimpy lingerie that could pass as a dress. The outfit barely covers your ass; one wrong move and you can flash the whole club. If it was your choice, a nice knee-high bodycon dress would be great, but things never work out in your favor.

About 30 minutes into dancing and all you wanted right now was a cold hard drink. You turned to Becky shouting your departure, "Beck, I'm gonna go get a drink!" Still dancing she gave you a thumbs up. "Try finding a hot man to fuck, babe!" You laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, sure."

This club was jammed packed, with no room for movement. You pushed and shoved your way through the crowd until you finally reached the bar. You sat between a woman who looked like she was in her 40s and the other who was accompanied by a man, probably a couple. A bartender came up to you; his figure was tall but lean, had a goatee, and green eyes. He was quite handsome to you.

The bartender plopped his hands on the ledge of the counter and inquired, "Is there anything I can get you, ma'am?" You gasped; you placed your hand to your heart, "Ma'am? Do I look old?" The man before you chuckled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't want to address you something that you might not like.... like pretty lady." You smile at the man and asked for his name. "Carter," he replied.

"Well Carter, I would like a Vodka Gimlet - if that's possible." The bartender straightened himself up and responded, "Don't worry it is." You smiled and watched the man get to work. A few moments later the bartender offered you your drink. "Thank you, Carter."

He gave you a nod and did a light slap on the counter. "Well, I'm gonna go on my break. If you need anything," the man pointed at the other bartender a few chairs away, "Teo, would be able to help you." You gave the man a thumbs up and said, "Okay. Thank you again, Carter." You watch the man make his way to the back door.

He swung the door open, startling two people. "What the fuck, Carter! I'm doing something here." Carter leaned against the brick wall and dug in his pocket and took out a cigarette. "Yeah, I can see that. Now do you have a light?" The man beside him groaned, "I hate you sometimes." He pushed the girl off of him signing her to go back inside. The man reached inside his back pocket and lit Carter's cigarette.

Carter inhaled the stick and let out a puff of smoke. He dropped his hand down and asked, "Who's the chick?" The man shrugged, "Don't know. Just grabbed the nearest girl and dragged her out here." A moment of silence was taken, the only sound heard was the busy streets at the front of the club.

The man pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the door, but before he had the chance to go back inside, Carter intervened, "Ah Jay, there's this hot chick at the bar. I don't know if she's taken or not, but she is by herself. Kind of thought you when I saw her." The man cocked his head to the side, "What are you saying?" Carter smirked at the man, "What I'm saying is that maybe you should try and get her number." The man opened his mouth to say something, but Carter stopped him, "If you're thinking about what she looks like, you'll know when you see her. Now get the fuck inside, your shift is starting."

The man grumbled at the thought of Carter. "Asshole. Fucking interrupting me." He sulked his way to the bar getting ready for his shift. Teo greeted him, giving the man a quick fist bump. He stationed himself and got ready to take a customer's order.

"Hello, sir. Anything I can get you?" And right before he could get the man's order, he heard a familiar laugh. He whipped his head in the direction of the sound, and his heart dropped. Just sitting a few chairs away was the woman who broke him.

He wanted to run, to hide, he would do anything to be away from you. He was frozen in fear, shaking from the inside out. "Hey!" The customer shouted, "Hello, are you listening? I want my fucking drink now!"

You heard the commotion a few feet away from you. And since you're human, you were curious. You turned your attention away from Becky and to the shouting. What you saw was something you didn't expect in a million years, Jeon Jungkook. The boy you fell in love with, the man you're still in love with.

You guys made eye contact; an unspeakable feeling of confusion running wild. You got up, ignoring the weird stare from Becky, but before making any movements toward Jungkook, he ran. You saw him run through the back door, pushing everybody without care.

Taking the first step to him, Becky uttered, "Where are you going?" She had her hand wrapped around your arm. You gently pushed them off and said, "I'll be right back." Before Becky had the chance to say something you speed walked your way to the door.

Just mere feet away from the exit, it swung open. Carter stepped into the club reeking of Tobacco. You were surprised by the sudden appearance. "Cater!" He gave a tight-lipped smile, wondering what you were doing back here. "Ma'am, you're not supposed to go back here."

As a response, you frantically explained, "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry, but someone I know went back here, and I haven't seen them in years." Carter furrowed his brows; he asked, "Do they work here?" You swallowed in some air and took a deep breath. "Umm... I think so. His name is Jungkook." Carter was getting confused by the second; he's never heard of that name before. He apologized, "I'm sorry, who?"

You were getting impatient with Carter. So, you pushed him aside, not caring about if you were being rude or not. You busted the door open and saw him crouched down with his face between his hands. The door slammed shut, startling you. You looked at the man in front of you with much sadness. With a heavy heart, you whispered, "Jungkook."

The screaming wind drowned out your voice, but even so, he heard. It's been two years since he last heard your voice, two years since he heard his name leave your lips. He slowly lifted his head up, and you saw his tear-stained face staring at you. Your heart stopped at the look he was giving you; hatred was all he was displaying. You wish to take all his pain and throw it at the nearest star, but you couldn't, especially since you were the cause of it.

Jungkook stood up, and you noticed how his build got bigger. He was definitely working out. You were never scared him, however, right now you were. He was not the same man as before - you know that, but you still hoped he hadn't changed.

Jungkook on the other hand, thought the opposite; you had gotten smaller. Not physically, but mentally. Your aura seemed scared and quiet, a complete 180 from before. He wanted to hold you - protect you, but he wouldn't. Jungkook could never forget what you did to him.

He laced his tongue with venom, and spat out, "Why the fuck are you here?" You flinched at his words. You deserve it - you know you deserve it, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. Your heart started beating faster, and you tried controlling your breathing, but one could know that you were having a hard time keeping calm. You put your shaky hand to your heart and trembled, "I didn't know you worked here. I came here with my friend to celebrate."

Jungkook stayed quiet and you took that as a sign to continue on, "I came here to celebrate my divorce." Jungkook was taken aback by your sentence. Divorce... it ranged in his head. He'd never thought you would get a divorce. "You got a divorce?" You nodded shyly, "This morning actually. Everything was done and finalized this morning."

Jungkook gulped down some spit he didn't know he was harboring. He wanted to be happy, he was waiting for this moment, but he couldn't find it in himself to be. Jungkook took a few steps back, giving himself more space. You stood there watching him pondering his thoughts.

You took this time to fully analyze him. His hair was longer, reaching close to his shoulders, almost in a mullet style. Two piercings were placed on his face, and tattoos littered his right arm; knuckles all the way up to his shoulder. It's only been two years; how did his appearance change so much? Never once has Jungkook said anything about getting facial piercings or tattoos. At this moment, you wanted the old Jungkook back. You were selfish - so selfish; you have no right to think that, but you couldn't help it.

"Why'd you come here to celebrate? Ready to find a new man for you to break?" You scoffed at his questions, "Are you serious?" Jungkook knew he was being mean, but he didn't care. "Of course, I'm being serious. You broke it off with me easily, and then you got married - only for you to divorce two years later. And what's the first thing you do... you go to a fucking club! Single people go to clubs to get fucking drunk and sleep with people they don't even know."

You felt your heart swell with pain; you felt so offended. "Is that what you think I am? A slut?" Jungkook seemed unfazed by your pain. He shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "I don't know, it's been two years. You could be... I mean look at the fucking outfit you're wearing. It's like you're asking for it." You slapped him; you have never slapped Jungkook before. And without a second thought, your tears came streaming down. Jungkook watched you as you tried wiping them away. The tears and snot came running down; you were hiccupping and whimpering at the pain Jungkook shoved at you.

For a split second, Jungkook regretted his words, but he shook off the thought. If he was a monster, his only reason would be that you made him into one.

Still crying, you bellowed out, "Yeah, you're right! It has been two years. Because in just that period, you've become someone unrecognizable! An asshole!" You dropped down to the cold and dirty concrete floor and wailed. You didn't care if people were to hear you; you didn't care if people thought you were crazy. All that you could care for, and feel was the immense agony shooting throughout your body. "And to think I still love you!"

Jungkook felt himself staggering; he was angry about what you said. He growled out, "Love? You say you love me, but you left me! You left our relationship! You left everything! You left our five years of love so quickly... so easily. I have every right to be a fucking asshole, ____! I fought for us when you didn't."

You shot your head up, and yelled, "You're wrong!" Jungkook started laughing. He bent down to your level and challenged you. "I'm wrong?" You threatened back, "You're wrong. I did fight for us." You sent glares at Jungkook, as he did too. No words were exchanged, but the spitefulness radiated off of each other.

A few seconds later, Jungkook got up. He looked down at you and decided, "I'm not gonna fight with you. Everything that has happened is in the past." He started making his way to the door, but before he placed his hand on the knob, he added, "But know this, ____, you're fucking dead to me." And with that, he left you alone on the cold April night.

Seven years ago (the confession)

Jungkook was sitting in his car, waiting patiently for your tutoring to end. He had his head resting on the steering wheel contemplating whether he should tell you his feelings or not. He's been thinking about it for three weeks and thought today is the day, but like a lot of people, he has the last-minute jitters.

When the anxiety became unbearable, Jungkook stepped out of his car to take a breath of fresh air. He took deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He dug in his pocket to check the time on his phone; four more minutes till you're out. He spent the next minute stretching for reasons he doesn't know. When he got back in the car, he downed the leftover water from earlier and threw the empty plastic in the back.

A few moments later and you were finally exiting the school, along with a few other people. Jungkook watched the way you smiled at the girl next to you, deep in the conversation. It made his heart warm seeing you smile.

You made your way to his car, exhaling the tiredness from today. You swiftly turned your body to give Jungkook a hug. With your body fully back on the seat, you sighed, "Thank you, Jungkook, for picking me up." He gave you a small smile, "No worries." You buckled yourself, ready to be taken home, but you noticed that Jungkook hadn't made the slightest move to leave. "Jungkook, are you okay?" He turned to you and whispered, "I umm... have something I want to say to you."

You got a little worried that something might've happened. "What is it? Are you okay?" Jungkook shook his head at your questions; he informed, "I'm okay. Nothing to worry about," he took a deep breath and continued, "I have just been feeling something for a while now, and I thought today should be a good time to tell you." You gave Jungkook a look to tell him to continue.

When Jungkook opened his mouth, all that came out was a shaky breath. He brought his head down from embarrassment, "I'm sorry." You giggled at his nervousness. You grabbed his hands and assured him, "It's okay. Take all the time you need." Jungkook took another deep breath, and screwed his eyes shut, scared of what facial expression you were to make; he admitted, "____, I like you... like really like you." You let go of Jungkook's hands, causing his eyes to open. He spouts out, "It's fine if you can't replicate my feelings back! I just don't wan-"

You grabbed Jungkook's face between your hands and cut him off with a kiss, and just as quickly you pulled apart. Jungkook was in a state of shock, he didn't know what happened, or why it happened. Since your hands still held Jungkook's face, you gently caressed his cheeks to bring him back down to earth. You softly spoke, "I can replicate your feelings back. I like you, Jungkook - possibly even more than you do."

Jungkook's eyes bugged out from your confession. Never in a million years would he think you had feelings for him. He pointed to himself, "Me? You like me?" You took your hands off his face and waved them around, "I like you, Jungkook! Ever since you transferred to my class, I have liked you severely. Was my kiss not obvious?" Jungkook starts chuckling at the turn of events; he rubbed his face and said, "I'm sorry, I just... Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think this would happen?" You smiled at his words, "Neither did I."

You guys got quiet, the awkward tension swimming throughout the car. Jungkook took the initiative to cut the tension, "Well," he kissed his teeth, "Since we like each other, we should kiss... again." You have never smiled more widely until today. "It's your turn to kiss me, Jungkook."

He gently took his hands to hold your face, and slowly but surely, he closed the gap. Your lips brushed against his, in a teasing manner. Jungkook didn't want to waste any more time, so he crashed his lips to yours. You guys kissed ever so slowly; reeling in the feeling of being wanted. You were the one to pull away first; you breathlessly spoke, "God, how can you hold your breath for that long?"

Jungkook chuckled at your question. He leaned his forehead to yours, staring deeply into your eyes. He feels like he could get lost in them and he wouldn't mind. He whispered, "I like you, ____." You gave him another kiss, and responded, "As do I, Jungkook."

Present

It's been a week since the event with your ex-boyfriend. It took you a fat minute to go back inside. When you did, you tried your hardest to avoid Jungkook, but of course, since he worked there avoiding him was not possible. Carter, on the other hand, went up to you, asking if you were okay, but you shrugged him off. You reached Becky demanding that you wanted to go home; she complied with your request.

Here you are with Becky out on your terrace smoking. You used to hate the idea of smoking, the burning sensation, the horrible smell of Tobacco, but since the break-up with Jungkook, you fell down the rabbit hole of cigarettes. You used to smoke one pack every two days, but it subsided to one pack a week.

Right now, you were feeling very serene. The cold harsh wind screaming in your ears, it was burning your eyes, and stabbing your skin; it felt nice. It made you forget the pain you were feeling inside. Becky was talking to you, but her voice went in one ear and out the other. You were just focusing on letting yourself get lost in this freezing pain. The only time you felt alive was when you suffer. You think to yourself that this is what you deserve, that everything you did should come back to you ten times worse.

Becky was getting concerned about your lack of attention. She was talking about how horrible the weather was right now; she expected your usual sarcastic remark, but you didn't give any. She turned to you, analyzing the way you were engulfed in this harsh weather. She saw the way you stared blankly with your teary eyes at the busy city. She saw the little goosebumps littering your skin. Your hair blowing in every direction, not caring for the tangles it's making. The firing cigarette getting close to your fingers. She saw nothing but a shell of her best friend.

Becky hadn't known you for very long, two years to be exact. She was Mason's coworker; they were in the same law firm. You met her when you were visiting Mason one day, and from then on, she became your best friend. She gets worried about you, knowing that the majority of your pain consists of your broken love. Becky only knows briefly about what happened that night; she wanted to know more, but she respects your boundaries, so, she never pushed the topic.

Becky tapped your shoulder, lightly shouting so you can hear her voice in the loud wind. "____, your cigarette is about to be out! Throw it away and let's get back inside!" You blinked away your tears, and promptly threw your cigarette in the ashtray.

"What the fuck! You wasted a good piece of cigarette, Jay." Jungkook just waved off Cater's complaint. "Yeah, whatever. I don't give a shit. It's mine, not yours." Jungkook and Carter were seated in the clubs' break room. Their shifts usually started at the same time, so they always take their breaks together.

Ever since that night, Jungkook has been on edge. He thought that you had moved away, but since his encounter with you, he's now rethinking that you hadn't left at all. Seeing you definitely brought back memories that Jungkook tried so hard to avoid. The pain you had caused resurfaced and immersed his heart with agony. Right when he thought he finally healed, your pretty face came and ripped off his band-aid.

Carter interrupted Jungkook's train of thought. "Damn, Jay. Crankier than usual?" Instead of responding back, Jungkook threw his head back on the leather couch. He didn't really have the energy to converse with Carter. If he didn't have work, he would've spent a year hiding out in his apartment avoiding everyone and everything, but he didn't have that luxury.

Carter was very persistent in making conversation. "So, Jungkook is your real name? And you didn't think of telling me? Your best friend?" Jungkook swiftly raised his head at Carter's question. He remarked, "Don't fool yourself, Carter. We're not friends." Carter felt hurt by Jungkook's words but choose not to show it. Jungkook continued, "The reason why I didn't tell you my name was because I didn't want to be tied down to my past."

"Past?" Carter questioned. Jungkook dug in his pocket for another cigarette to smoke. He lit it up and took a hit. "I never really cared for my name. I didn't really like it, but I didn't really hate it. It wasn't until this girl came along that I started loving my name - only when she said it. Hearing my name leave her lips made my stomach do flips. One day she ended things, and my name just started to sound horrible to hear. So, that's why I changed it to, Jay."

Everything stayed quiet after Jungkook's confession. Carter didn't know what to say. He wanted to lighten up the mood and make Jungkook slightly happy, but he was scared that whatever left his mouth, the man in front of him would shoot him the meanest glare, and Carter was a sensitive man.

Minutes go by until their shift starts. Before exiting, Carter wanted to say at least something to the broken man. He halted Jungkook's walking, placing a hand on his shoulder. Jungkook turned to Carter with a puzzled look. Carter spoke, "Jay's not a bad name. I quite like the name." Jungkook gave Carter a tight-lipped smile and nodded. He left the break room with a lone Carter inside.

Seven years ago (the first night)

You had arrived at Jungkook's house for a sleepover. You and Jungkook have been dating for seven months, and he thought today was the day you could finally stay over at his house. You actually wanted to stay over at his early on in the relationship, but Jungkook informed you that he wasn't ready yet. Jungkook wanted things to go nice and slow; he was afraid that if things were to be rushed everything would fall apart. You understood his reasons; you took things nice and slow just like he wanted.

You entered his house; it was small but cozy. His house felt like a home, just the feeling the house gives makes you feel at peace. You looked around the place, admiring the family pictures, drawings, and even the little trinkets displayed on top of the T.V. Everything insight made your heart warm.

Jungkook on the other hand, was nervous. He knows that his place is far more different than yours. You had been born with a silver spoon in your mouth; everything was handed to you, even without asking. As he watched you look around the place, Jungkook was sweating profusely. He was scared that you would leave him because of how poor he was compared to you.

Jungkook trembled, "I know this isn't much. I know how ugly this is to you, but I hope that you won't leave me." You flipped towards your boyfriend. You were flabbergasted that he would think that. Everything that he had said was the opposite of what you were thinking. You threw yourself on his soft brown couch cuddling with one of the throw pillows. Jungkook walked in front of you, and you gave him a bright smile.

You chuckled, "Babe, this house is beautiful, not ugly. It isn't much but it's definitely something amazing." You grabbed his arms, discarding the pillow, and pulled him towards you. "I could never leave you because of how much or little money you have. Jungkook, I'm with you because of who you are. And you are someone worth treasuring." Jungkook's heart has never felt so full. He kissed your forehead, "My heart is full of you, I can't even call it my own."

As your response, you gently grabbed his face and kissed like it was the last. He held your waist and gripped you closer to him. There was no room in between you two. Things started escalating when you began unbuttoning Jungkook's shirt. He pulled away the second he felt your fingertips brush against his chest. You were startled by the action; you felt that you had done something bad.

You felt your eyes slightly tear up, but Jungkook was quick to assure you that it was nothing wrong. "Baby, don't be sad. I just think that we shouldn't be doing this in the living room." At first, you were confused by his statement, but then your eyes lit up by his meaning. You blushed and Jungkook smiled at your cheeks. "Let's take this in my bedroom, yeah?" You had never nodded your head this hard until right now.

Jungkook chuckled at your cuteness; you never fail to make him smile. He picked you up like you weighed nothing. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and your arms around his neck. Jungkook had his hands resting on the bottom of your ass, keeping you in place. He marched his way to his room, all while keeping his eyes on yours. You would usually feel nervous about the intense eye contact, but at this moment you were too lost in his big brown eyes. He looked at you with so much longing, and you loved that feeling.

Once he reached his room, Jungkook placed you on the bed and said, "I am so glad my parents aren't here today." He climbed on top of you, caging you in between his toned arms. "So, don't be quiet for me. Never be quiet for me." You were stunned by the words that had left your boyfriends' lips. It was like a different person entered his body. It was hard to muster any type of word, so you just nodded.

Jungkook can see that you were speechless by his behavior. He was actually having fun doing this to you. He wanted to push you even further, so, Jungkook slipped his hand underneath your shirt and inside your bra to lightly brushed his fingers on your hard bud. He saw your mouth go agape; he ordered, "Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you." You can see the mischievous glint along with lust swimming in his eyes. You cleared your throat and shakingly said, "I won't be quiet for you. I'll let you hear all of me."

Jungkook smirked, "That's my girl." He dived his head to your neck and sucked your soft skin. The hand that had brushed against you was now needing the plump area. "Ahh... babe." you moaned at the sensation. Jungkook unclasped his mouth from your neck, admiring the painting he had done. He licked the area grinning. When he had lifted his head back, he already saw the dazed look on your face.

Jungkook caressed your cheeks tenderly. "Why do you already look a bit fucked out, babe? I haven't done anything yet?" You grabbed a hold of his shirt and said, "It feels good." Jungkook chuckled. God, you were too adorable. You tried unbuttoning his shirt again, but Jungkook just swiftly took it off. You straight away raked your fingers along his abs. The feathering touch made Jungkook lightly flex his abs. "Aren't you a little horny?" You blushed from embarrassment at his words. You pinched his skin, "Shut up."

Jungkook grabbed a hold of your arms and placed them above your head. "Spread your legs, baby." And like a dog, you did what you were told. You watched Jungkook position himself between your legs; he was slowly grinding against your clothed pussy. You bite your lip, containing your moans. Jungkook saw the way you try quieting yourself. He released one of his hands away from your pinned arms, dragging your bottom lip down with his thumb. He groaned at you, "____, I said to never be quiet for me. So, stop biting your lips and moan for me, baby."

You released one sinful moan for your lover. He wasn't even inside you yet, but you already felt like cumming. Jungkook fully let go of your arms, and instead, he ripped open your shirt. You gasped at the action, "Jungkook! Babe, I liked that shirt." Jungkook unhooked your bra and threw it on the floor. "I'll buy your another one, baby. Now lift up your hips." You really didn't know what it was, but every time Jungkook demanded something, you would always be compliant.

He took off your shorts along with your underwear, and just like your bra, he discarded them on the floor. You laid bare in front of Jungkook's eyes. You looked ethereal to him like you were an angel living down on earth. Your hair was sprawled out on his sheets, your skin shining even though there was no sun, your legs wide open giving him a view of your pretty pussy, your breasts laid beautifully on your chest, and your face stared back at him with devotion. They say that nothing in this world is perfect, but to Jungkook you were the definition of prefect.

You stared at him while he took off his pants. You saw the outline of his thick cock, bulging on his boxers. You couldn't tear your eyes away; Jungkook noticed. He grabbed one of your hands and placed it on his hard-on, gently rubbing himself on your hand. Jungkook exhaled and said, "You feel how hard I am for you, baby?" You licked your lips and meekly whispered, "Yes."

He placed your hand back by your side and bent down to you. His lips hovering above yours. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it." You lifted up your pelvis, it was your turn to grind yourself on his clothed cock. You breathlessly spoke, "I want you to fuck me, but I want it slow." Jungkook groaned at your words.

He slipped out of his boxers and his cock sprung free. It hit you right on your clit, making you jolt. Before Jungkook could continue, he reached behind you, and right beside his bed was a small dresser. He dug into one of the drawers and pulled out a condom. Jungkook took off the plastic and tapped the rubber piece on your lips. He grinned, "Do you wanna put this on me, babe?"

You sat up and took the condom from your boyfriend. You had your eyes locked on his cock. It might've been weird to voice out, but Jungkook's cock was really pretty. His shaft was slightly lighter than his skin, and his tip was pretty pink. You could see the feint veins that circled his member, and he wasn't hairy, just a slightly shaven area that resided on top. You could see some pre-cum leaking out of him. He was pretty thick and long, you would've guessed him to be around eight inches.

You swallowed some air before you proceeded. You took him in one of your hands and placed the rubber on his tip. You tried sliding it down, but since your hand was too shaky it kept coming back up. Jungkook had seen your nervousness. He gently grabbed your hand, and he worried to you, "Need help, baby?"

You shot up at him and quickly replied, "No!" In the midst of your answer, you had gripped your boyfriend too hard. "Shit, babe! Not too hard, please?" You were quick to release him from the stronghold. You apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I-I don't need help. I can do this." Jungkook nodded and copied back, "You can do this."

You tried sliding the condom back down again, and thankfully this time it stayed in place. You smiled at Jungkook like a kid who aced their pop quiz. He chuckled, "God, ____. Can you get any cuter?"

Jungkook looped one arm around your torso, slowly bringing you back down on the bed. He positioned himself back between your legs again and gently slid his cock between your folds. His movement sent tidal waves through your body. You moaned out, "Fuck, Jungkook. It feels good, but I want you in me." Jungkook placed his cock right at your entrance. He said, "If it hurts tell me, okay? I'll go slow like you want." You nodded.

You hugged your boyfriend readying yourself. Jungkook had licked his fingers, lubing you up. He slowly entered you, feeling your warm walls caging him tightly. Your arms around Jungkook tightened. It didn't hurt having him inside you. You have a dildo, so the feeling was nothing new. But this was your first time having other than a toy inside you. You softly moaned once he was fully inside, Jungkook as well. His mouth was right next to your ear. When you heard him groan it made your mind hazy.

"Am I hurting you, baby?" You shook your head at his question, but Jungkook wanted words. "I need to hear you say it." You murmured your words lowly, "No, you're not hurting me."

"I'm gonna move now, alright?"

"Alright."

Jungkook started slipping in and out of you. You created wetness, making it easier for him to not hurt you. It felt nice, but you wanted him to go deeper. You rasped out, "Deeper, Jungkook. I want it deeper." And that's what he did. Jungkook had reached deeper inside you, hitting your G-spot. Your body thrust up, touching your boyfriends' chest. "Shit!" you cried out.

Jungkook smirked to himself. Seeing you like this, only wanted him to go harder - faster. Placing you back down, he grunted, "Baby, can I go faster? Please?" You wanted to please your boyfriend like he was doing to you. So, you agreed.

Jungkook lifted up his body and moved you to the edge of the bed. With him standing, he placed your legs straight on his chest. He held your thighs with a firm grip and started thrusting you at a fast pace. Your body started moving up and down, your breasts doing the same.

The room echoed with the slapping of your guy's skin. You watched Jungkook as he fucked you. His head was leaned back; he was immersed in the pleasure. Jungkook was so glad that you are his first. He read online that having sex with someone feels so good, but to him, you felt like heaven.

Jungkook brought back down his head and snuggled between your legs. He rubbed his cheek along your calf. He beamed at you, "You're so precious, baby. So precious." You mimicked back his smile.

Jungkook went back to fucking you, never slowing down his pace. You gripped the sheets of his bed when you started to feel your high coming. Jungkook felt you holding his member hard, not letting him breathe. But he took it as a sign to go faster. When your high reached you, you jerked your body up, your body quivering. You moaned his name repeatedly. You never felt this much pleasure until now. Jungkook sure knows how to make you feel like you were in another world.

Jungkook watched as your body shook. He loved that he was the reason for your undoing. When your high came down, you thought that you guys would be done, but Jungkook had other plans. You gave your boyfriend a puzzling look when you felt that he was still in you. Jungkook cocked his head to the side, "Did you think it was over? Baby, I haven't even cummed yet." Your eyes bugged out.

Just as you were about to say something, Jungkook fucked you hard. He took your breath by surprise. You had just came, so when Jungkook added more pleasure to your sensitive cunt, you couldn't help but cry. You tried telling him to stop or slow down, but you could barely muster up any words.

Jungkook felt himself almost there. With one more thrust, he dropped your legs and collapsed on top of you, riding out his climax. His lips were right next to your ear; he was groaning out incoherent words. You both were out of breath, giving yourselves some time to be composed.

When you guys were finally calm, Jungkook pulled out of you. He discarded his filled condom in the trash. He gently pulled you up and asked, "Do you want to bathe together?" You smiled widely; you answered his question with a nod. You were about to walk with him to the bathroom, but Jungkook noticed your legs slightly trembling, so he picked you up bridal style.

You giggled at his action, holding him tight as he walked. When you made it into the bathroom, Jungkook sat you down on the closed toilet. You got worried that you might dirty it. "Wait, Jungkook, I don't think I should sit here. I don't want to dirty your toilet." Jungkook playfully scoffed at your concern. While he went to run the warm water, he shrugged, "It's fine if you dirty the toilet, babe. I can always clean it."

Minutes go by and the tub was finally filled. Jungkook carefully placed you in the tub. "Is the water warm for you?" You nodded your head and then urged him to get inside with you. Jungkook sat behind you; your back rested against his chest. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the warm and safe atmosphere. Jungkook looked down at you admiring your beauty. He could never get tired of looking at you. You captivated him, and he wasn't complaining.

Jungkook raked his fingers along your stomach; his head rested in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. With your eyes still closed, you spoke out, "You know, they say that a home is a place, but I don't think that's true." You opened your eyes and faced your lover. "Because I found a home in you; you're my home, Jungkook."

Jungkook buried his head deeper in your neck. He rarely blushes, but right now his face was painted bright red. He gave himself a minute to calm his beating heart. When he lifted up his head, he found that you had your eyes closed again. "____?" he called out. You responded to him with a little hum.

Jungkook took a deep breath in and a deep breath out and confessed, "I love you." Your eyes shot open, and you looked at him. Jungkook repeated, "I love you, ____. Every fiber of my being calls for you. My need for you is so strong, that I don't know what I'll do without you." You felt yourself crying, your body trembling. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you; he thought that what he had said made you sad. "____, I'm sorry. Please, don't cry."

You shook your head. You weren't crying because of what he had said, but because you were so happy. You were filled with so much joy and love. You sniffled to him, "I'm not crying because of something bad. I'm crying because you're making me so happy. I'm so happy, Jungkook." You wiped your tears away and grabbed his face. You admitted, "And I love you so much.”

Present

"I would like the veggie wrap, but please don't put in the bell peppers. And some sweet tea - no ice. Thank you." Becky handed her menu to the young waitress. "Ma'am, is there anything I can get you?" The girl had her attention switched to you. Getting ready to write, you gave her your answer, "I'll have the same, but I want the bell peppers put in. And for the drink, I'll just have plain water." The girl collected your menu and gave a curt nod.

After she left Becky spoke out, "I talked to Mason yesterday. ____, he's worried about you. You haven't texted or called him since the divorce. He's wondering if you're okay." You did a deep sigh. You didn't mean to make him worry; you just have a lot on your mind right now. You exhaled, "I'm okay, alright." Becky advised, "I'm not the one you should be answering to. If you claim to be okay, then call Mason and tell him." You nodded your head, not saying anything further.

Becky could see that you're not really here; your mind is someplace else. Ever since that night, you've been more closed off than usual. It's sometimes hard to make conversations with you since all you give is short direct answers. You were always pretty open with Becky, proud to say she knows about ninety percent of you. But recently, Becky has been left in the dark about your feelings.

She worried to you, "____, I want you to know that I'm here... that I'm not some stranger. You can talk to me." You stared at your best friend; you can see the worriedness in her beautiful face. You're definitely not doing a good job of making the people who care about you feel calm. You were ready to talk to Becky, but then the young waitress came up and brought the food. "Here's the wrap with no bell peppers for you," She gave Becky her food, and then you, "Here's your wrap with bell peppers. And your guy's drinks." Once she placed everything down, she added, "If you need anything just call me." And with that, the girl left.

Becky had noticed that you were about to say something. "What were you going to say, ____?" You begged, "Can we talk about this after we finished eating, Beck? Please?" Becky didn't want to push your buttons, so, she agreed to continue the conversation later.

Around thirty minutes later, you and Becky finished your lunch. You guys were now entering your car with a full stomach. Once you guys had your seatbelts buckled, you pulled out of the parking lot. The vehicle was silent, just a whispered voice singing through the stereo.

"Let's go to a park." Becky had broken the silence with her suggestion. You slightly turned your eyes to your best friend. "A park?" you questioned. Becky replied with a yes. With your eyes back on the road, you took some time thinking about the reason for the random pop-up. Then you remembered what you said at the restaurant. "To talk?" your voice laced with caution. Becky replied with another yes. You sucked in your cheeks and nodded. "Sure, why not."

You two arrived at a random park. The area didn't have a lot of people, which for you was great. You put your car in park and pumped up the air conditioning. It was silent yet again. Becky wanted to speak up, but she also wanted you to open up to her on your own. You were trying to figure out what to say to Becky without sounding incoherent. It took a minute before words left your mouth.

"Remember how I said I saw my ex that night?" Beck nodded her head. You continued, "Well, ever since that night I've been feeling lost... or I guess confused - I don't really know how to describe it. But seeing him made my heart swell with longing, but he was not the same as before. What happened that night rearranged my view - my feelings into something unbearable. The more I think about it, the more I know that I'm the reason for this pain. This feeling... it's like it's growing bigger, and it fills my heart with ache. I feel like I'm gonna be gone if these feelings keep being bottled."

Becky furrowed her brows; she was confused by your last sentence. "What do you mean 'gone', ____?" You gulped down some spit, "I mean that if I keep feeling like this, my sense of warmth might be extinguished." Becky's heart broke hearing her best friend say that she might lose any type of love. You've always been there for her, even when you were at your lowest. Becky said something that she might hope will help you. "Maybe you should try talking to him. Find some closure, ____."

You dropped your head to the steering wheel and gripped the sides. You shook your head at your friend's request; you explained, "I can't talk to him, Beck. You know, the last thing he said to me that night was that I was dead to him." You faced Becky. "Beck, he hates me... deeply. And I can't blame him, 'cause I hate myself too."

Becky turned her body completely towards you. She didn't want you to think badly about yourself. "____, don't say that." Just like Becky, you turned your body as well. Your frustration was building. "What am I supposed to say then, Becky? It's my fault that things are like this." Your voice started rising up, "It's my fault that we're broken! If you were there that day, Beck, you would've hated me as well."

Tears started freely flowing down. You grabbed your shirt and cried, "You didn't see the way his face looked when I told him that I accepted the marriage. You didn't feel the want in his hug - in his kiss when he begged for me to stay. You didn't hear the pain in his voice when he told me that I broke him. Becky, I left him alone and broken. I destroyed him. So, please... don't tell me that I shouldn't have said what I have said."

Becky hugged you the minute you ended your sentence. Her tears silently fell, while yours were loud and clear. Becky felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. You had wrapped your arms around your best friend tightly, holding on to her while you poured out your pain. You choked out, "I tried telling my parents that I didn't want this. I tried, Becky, I tried." Becky gently petted your hair and said, "I know, ____."

A Few minutes go by, and your crying had subsided. You pulled away from Becky and grabbed some tissues that were placed in the cup holder. You wiped your face from all the tears and snot. Becky softly rubbed your eyes and calmly said, "I wasn't there, so because of that I don't hate you. And if I was there, I still wouldn't have hated you, ____. Even though you couldn't stop your parents, you were still strong enough to try. That itself tells me how much you love this man. I know that I'll probably never be able to understand this pain, but one thing I do understand is the unbelievable love one person can have for the other. ____, this type of love is so powerful, it can heal the weak, but it can also destroy the strong. I know you said that you can't talk to him, but I think you should. If you don't... this feeling will keep being bottled - and just like you said, you'll be gone. I don't want that. So, just try talking to him."

Two years ago (the break up)

You had just gotten done having the meeting of your life with your parents. The discussion for an arranged marriage for you has been brought forth a week ago. Your parents wanted to expand their company by joining another company that was owned by their friends. They thought that marrying you with Mason would bring more publicity and fortunes to their companies. Your parents had known that you were already in a relationship, but they're the type of parents that don't care for their kids' opinions or feelings.

When they had announced that they were going to be marrying you, you shot them down the second the words had left their mouths. You left the room not giving them any time to say something back to you. You didn't want to hear it. That day, you held off on telling Jungkook about your parent's announcement. You had thought that they would respect your decision not to go through with this marriage. You thought that the discussion would end and there would be no reason to tell Jungkook, until today.

Your parents had called you to their office, and right when you entered the room, they dropped the bomb and told you that having this marriage is inevitable. You tried convincing them that this is not what you want, that you are happy with your life; loving and having Jungkook is all you want, but they didn't care. The only thought they had in their mind was strengthening their company. The debate went on for so long, with you crying and your parent's shouting.

They told you that if you didn't go through with this, they wouldn't hesitate on making Jungkook's life hell, starting with deporting his father. You called their bluff, telling them that they're not that cruel, but once they had ICE on call you were forced to agree. Your parents had a satisfying smirk knowing that their plan was working. You had gone up to your parents, wanting to physically hurt them, but your father beat you to it. He had slapped you right across the face, and even more, he did not hold back on giving you a right hook on your stomach. Your mother had a displeasing look on her face when you spat out vulgar words at them.

You ran out of their building to find sanctuary in your car. You didn't cry because of the pain your parents inflicted on you; you were crying because you were now going to be tied to someone who wasn't the love of your life; Jungkook. It took you a few minutes to calm down your breathing, and your crying, but once you did, you texted Jungkook that you were going to drive to his place for something important.

Jungkook got a bit nervous with your message; he tried calling you to see if you were okay, but you didn't answer. You didn't want him to hear the choked pain in your voice.

Here you are driving to your boyfriend's apartment, with blurry eyes. You know that driving in this state is unsafe, but you didn't care. You were lucky to have not run over any red lights or gotten pulled over for speeding. You pulled up to your boyfriend's apartment unscathed and without any tickets. You saw Jungkook pacing around his front door with a worried expression.

When he spotted you, he ran to your car door and hugged you. He expressed, "Baby, why weren't you answering my calls? I was worried about you." You couldn't speak; your body frozen was in panic. Jungkook noticed; he tried picking you up, but your legs collapsed on top of each other. He bent down to check for any injuries. Jungkook searched your body, and then he came across your face.

He let out a short breath, "____, your face! Your cheek! Baby, what happened?" You rasped out, "Can we take this inside? Please?" Instead of answering, Jungkook carefully picked you up and helped you to his apartment. He sat you down on his little sofa, with him going to the kitchen to get you an ice pack.

Your boyfriend returned and placed the cold pack on your bruising cheek. He wanted to question why you needed to talk, why you looked like you'd been crying so much, why your cheek is bruising, but he didn't want to bombard you with so many questions. He wanted you to talk to him when you were calm and ready.

You were trying to think of ways to break down the marriage to him, but no matter how you were to say it, you know that Jungkook would be hurt. Your head was down, but you could feel the anxious stare your boyfriend was giving you. You tried mustering up some words to say, but all that came out was unstable breaths.

Seeing you in this state had Jungkook on edge. He's never seen you like this before, and it quite terrifies him. Seeing you made his heart churn with indescribable panic. All that he could do was hold you, waiting for your mind to be steady.

The clock kept ticking and you still hadn't said anything. You just stared at the floor, with nothing but fidgeting eyes. Jungkook was a patient man, but in this scenario, he was feeling a bit restless. Jungkook tried speaking up, "Babe, ar-" You cut him off, blurting out your proclamation, "I'm getting married."

Jungkook's whole world stopped when those words left your mouth; he felt his heart drop. He stood up and raked his fingers through his hair. You were still seated, watching your boyfriend getting stressed. Your body was still, but you felt your tears slowly fall. The moment you said the words, you knew, you knew that everything was will never be the same.

Jungkook's heart was racing faster than the speed of light. His body felt cold, like what you had said dumped ice all over him. He couldn't control his breathing; his chest heaving up and down in a disbelief manner. He turned to you, catching sight of your broken spirit. He would usually hug you - comfort you, but all he wanted to do right now is ask you, his questions. Jungkook shakingly said, "Are you serious? 'Cause if you're playing with me right now, ____, I'll forgive you. We can move on with this horrible joke of yours." He tired laughing, hoping that you were joking.

You faced back down on the floor; your tears making it hard to see anything. With his question, you shyly nodded your head. You heard Jungkook release a pain exhale. You could feel the pain steaming off of him. You didn't want to lift your head; you were scared of the sight you might see.

You heard Jungkook gasping for air like he was finding it hard to function. You tried muffling your sobs that were escaping, but it didn't work. Jungkook demanded, "Look at me, ____." You couldn't. How could you? After what you said, you don't have the strength to face him. He demanded again, "____, look at me." this time you can hear the plead in his voice.

You lift your head, hating the sight you were seeing. The one person who you never wanted to hurt, showed a face full of agony. You did this to him. Your tears were now rapidly flowing; you tried wiping them away, but they did not prevail.

Jungkook didn't know why you were hurting. He had every reason to feel like this, but you? His voice rasped out his questions, "W-was it me? Did I do something wrong? Wa... was I not good enough for you, ____?" You vigorously shook your head. All his questions were far from it. "Then why?" Jungkook gripped his shirt; his voice was rising. He cried to you, "Why a-are you doing this to me? Did you have a relationship with this guy, and you didn't tell me? Is-is that the reason you're marrying him and not me?"

You stood up quickly, crying to him that his questions were not the reason. He repeated, "Then why?" You couldn't tell him why. You didn't want him to know, because if you did, you knew that he would tell you not to worry about him. He would tell you that you guys can fight through this, but he doesn't know your parents. The vile things they can do to him and his parents. So, you left that part out, "My parents want to wed me with a friend's son to bring more success to both companies."

Jungkook nodded his head, feeling somewhat hopeful that you didn't agree; your parents just told you, you were getting married. "Okay, this was all your parents. Baby, just decline them and then we can go back to normal." You saw him optimistically smile. You wished that was the case; you wished it was that easy. You brokenly said, "No, Jungkook. It was my decision... I accepted the marriage."

Jungkook cried yet again. Why would he think that? Stupid! He felt stupid. "Why would you accept it? You're not happy with me, are you?" You told him a white lie, "I think that as their daughter, I need to do this." Jungkook shook his head, not believing you. "What about what you want? ____, I thought that what we have is everything and more, but you seem so willing to let go of our five years. Is this truly what you want?"

You wanted to say no. You wanted to be with him forever; that this marriage is not what you want, but the words got stuck in your throat. You didn't know what to say. Jungkook knows you like the back of his hand; he could see the hesitation; he could see your body frozen in contemplation. He knows deep down that you don't want this. So, why are you doing this?

Jungkook walked towards you, holding you tenderly in his arms. Dipping his head to the crook of your neck, breathing you in like always. "____, stay with me." Your eyes were hurting from all the crying, but you couldn't help it. Jungkook felt your body tremble; he felt your tears sliding down your face, down your neck, and onto his face, it only made him hold you tighter. He felt himself crying just as hard as you. "Stay with me, ____." He let you go, only for him to cup your face, and give you a passionate kiss. "Please, baby. I need you to stay with me. Can you stay with me?"

You could feel the want in his hug - in his kiss, but you couldn't - you wouldn't drag him down, because of your love. You didn't want him and his parents to suffer because of you. You saw his eyes begging you to say yes. You know that your answer was going to hurt him, but rather this than the long-suffering pain he would feel to lose his father. Pushed him off of you, and you let out a strangled sob. You saw pain taking hold of him. You wailed, "I can't... I won't stay with you, Jungkook. I could never forgive myself if I did."

You saw him clutch a part of his shirt where his heart was. You heard him whimpering. Jungkook hiccupped, "____, please don't do this. We can be together. Your parents - your husband won't have to know." Jungkook knew he was being pathetic; begging you like this, but he would go to any length if it meant that you'll stay with him. "I don't want you to leave me. I love you."

Your face scrunched up, trying to contain the pain you were feeling. His words sent an ache through your heart. You wished everything was that easy. You didn't want Jungkook to love a horrible person like you; a person who would lie to him, a person who would tear him piece by piece. The only way to make him hate you is to say the impossible, "These past six years spent with you, were everything and more. But I don't love you anymore, Jungkook. It's time we took our separate paths."

Jungkook felt himself die inside. He was shaking his head, trying to deny your words, but you sound so convincing. If he knew that this type of pain was to happen, he would've never confessed his feelings to you. The one person who he tied himself with, the one person who he gave his whole heart, the one person who he loved broke him. He whispered to you, "You absolutely broke me, ____. Destroyed me." He didn't spare you a glance; he walked to his front door, opened it, and yelled, "Get the fuck out of my house, before I fully succumb to you, truly!"

You knew that this was gonna come. You knew that sooner or later he would yell and say harsh things to you. Still, you could help but be appalled by his words. You carefully walked your way to the door. Tears come down streaming harshly, knowing that this will be the last time you step foot in his home. Right at the entrance, you faced your now ex-boyfriend and saw the stern and pained expression plastered on his face. You timidly said, "I'm sorry, Jungkook."

Jungkook swiftly turned his eyes out the door, signaling to leave his apartment; you did just that. You turned around wanting to at least say one last goodbye, but before you got the chance to, Jungkook slammed the door, leaving alone on a cold April day.

Present

"So, don't worry about me, Mason. Call me when you get this." You ended the voicemail.

You were outside the club waiting for your ex to be finished. It took a lot of thinking about what Becky had said, and you came to the conclusion that she was right. You didn't want to spend the rest of your life avoiding this, you wanted to have some peace of mind. You don't know how he'll react or how he'll be, but you just hoped that he'll be willing to listen.

Time was speeding up and your body was getting tired. Right when you were about to head to your car to rest your legs, a group of people exited the club. It was hard identifying the group because they were heading in the opposite direction from you.

If you hadn't spotted Carter, you would've thought that this trip was useless. You and Carter made eye contact, and you watched him whisper to another guy who had his arm slung over the shoulders of a pretty woman. You knew that the man was Jungkook. It wouldn't matter how many years have passed; you'll always be able to identify him.

You wanted to get closer to hear what was being exchanged but to be respectful, you gave them their boundaries. The group of people already left, just leaving the four of you alone. You couldn't see his face, but by the way, Carter is expressing, you knew that the conversation was getting frustrating. Your body started fidgeting, you were getting impatient.

The conversation seemed to have ended when Carter gave you a bright smile. He pulled the woman towards him and gave Jungkook a wave of goodbye. Now it was just you two alone. Jungkook still had his back faced to you, but you can tell he was annoyed.

You spoke up, slightly shouting, "Can we talk, Jungkook?" For what seemed like forever, he finally turned to you. He trudged his way to you; he seethed, "Were my words that night not enough for you to know that I don't want to see you?" You were blinking frantically. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"I just want to talk. You don't have to say anything, I just want you to listen. I'm begging you." Your head was down, eyes closed. You started fiddling with your fingers. "I don't deserve it, but will you allow me to be selfish just one time?"

Jungkook stared down at you. He's not gonna admit it, but he also wanted to talk with you. He took some deep breaths through the nose, and said, "Did you bring your car? Where's your car?" You lifted your head in an instant. You exhaled and gave a relieved smile to yourself. Jungkook saw your small smile and somewhere deep down inside him, he felt his heart swell.

You made a beeline to your car, Jungkook following closely behind you. Once you made it inside, everything was quiet. Not a peep was made from the both of you. You thought that since you wanted to talk, you should start first. "Thank you... for agreeing to this. I wanted to talk because I need to have this closure." You faced your head to Jungkook, but all he was looking at was outside your car window. "I feel like we can take our first step into healing through this talk."

Without looking at you, Jungkook mumbled, "I tried to feel something new with someone else, but all I could see in them is how they're not you." You started biting your lips; you felt guilty. "There was this woman I met around close to a year of our break up. She was a customer at the club, and all she ordered was a glass of water." Jungkook started laughing at the memory. "She started coming in more often, and I found a friend in her. She was kind, smart, beautiful... she was perfect. I thought that she was everything I wanted in a girl. But every time we tried to progress our relationship; I kept holding her off. All I could feel - all I could want was you. I didn't want someone perfect," Tears started to slowly fall down Jungkook's eyes. He faced you with his eyes red. "I wanted someone who messy, loud, clumsy... broken. All I wanted was you, ____."

You were choking on your sob. You placed your hand on your mouth, trying to cancel out any noise. Wanting to add to your pain, Jungkook confessed "I went to your wedding. I blended myself with the hundreds of those invited people. I saw you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress. You truly make a beautiful bride, ____. I saw you guys hold hands, heard your vows, and say your 'I do's'. I saw you guys kiss. I couldn't stay any longer, so I went back home. I laid in bed staring at my ceiling, it took me a while to figure out that I was crying. And I realized that my tears were no longer for you. They're for me; the me you destroyed. How could you do this to us? How could you do this to me? You didn't love me."

You shook your head, denying his last sentence. "Don't say that! You may hate me, and that's fine, but you have no right to say that I didn't love you. Jungkook, my love for you was infinite and it still is. You know, the moment I left you, I killed half of myself. And to this day, I'm still half a person. You know, I have spent the first year missing you, wanting you, needing you." You cried harder like you were reliving your pain. "My ex-husband tried consoling me, and it would work for a little while. But every time night rolls around, the moon brings back my pain. I'll never ever forgive myself for the pain I brought to you."

"It doesn't matter now. You ruined everything." You cried harder because he was right, but you didn't wanna keep being reminded. "I know! I know that everything is my fault. But please, Jungkook, stop reminding me of my faults. I hate myself enough as it is."

Jungkook questioned, "Then why? I want the honest truth now. Don't hide from me. Why would you accept the marriage?" Jungkook wanted answers that you couldn't give to him before.

Now that you are divorced, you have nothing holding you back. "It's true when I said that I accepted the marriage. It was fully my decision, but they really left me no choice. They were going to call ICE on your father. Jungkook, they wanted to make you and your parents suffer." You started shaking your head; your tears falling in the process. "I didn't want that to happen because of my selfishness."

You were crying, but all that Jungkook could think about was one thing. "Is that why you came home that day with a bruising cheek? Did those fuckers do that to you?" You were quiet; you didn't have to say anything for Jungkook to know the answer. He took a deep sigh, "Why didn't you tell me? God, I feel like killing them."

You scoffed, "What would you do if I told you? I think you're forgetting just how powerful my parents are. Jungkook, they will stop at nothing to achieve something."

He retaliated back, "So will I! I don't care how powerful your parents are, ____. If putting in my blood, sweat, and tears means that I could still have you, I will. It was wrong for me to say that you didn't fight back, but I would've started a war for you if it meant that we could still be together. If my father were to be deported, my mom would go with him; they can't imagine a life without each other. That's the same thing with me. I couldn't imagine a life without you, but it's too late now, huh? The chance to fight is over now."

You quietly asked, "You wouldn't fight for me now?" That question had stumped Jungkook. He wanted to say that he will, but it wouldn't sound right. Many things have happened over the past two years. Jungkook has learned to move on, to live without you. Of course, he's not fully healed, but after this talk, he feels like he can fully live his life without the pain you bring. But you, you were still stuck in the past. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe everything would be back to the way it was.

Jungkook answered your question from the truth in his heart, "No... I wouldn't fight for you now. ____, what we had is something I'll always treasure. The years I spent with you felt like heaven. You were my haven. You were my first everything, I could never forget that. I wished it had been me standing at the altar. I wished it had been me marrying you. I wish for a lot of things, but those are just wishes. Two years isn't a lot of time, but during that period I've learned to move on with my life."

Jungkook cupped your crying face. He held you tenderly. His eyes filled with sorrow. "I loved you so much, ____. Actually, I-I still love you. I don't think I'll stop loving you. We were just two people who loved each other but weren't meant to be." He started wiping your fallen tears.

Jungkook gave you one last kiss. You guys kissed with so much love and regret. The tears from both of you made the kiss salty, but you guys didn't mind. You gripped his shirt, and he gripped your waist. This was truly the last contact you both will make.

Pulling apart was hard but needed. You knew that he was right. It's time for you to move on. You whispered to him, "I realize now that I can't keep holding on to something I can't have anymore. I'm ready to let you go, Jungkook."

Jungkook connected his forehead to yours, and said, "If once we're ready, faith will bring us together again. Whether it be in this lifetime or the next, I'll wait for you with open arms." You smiled at his words. You both know deep down that being together again won't happen - at least not in this life.

Five years later

Many things have happened in the five years since your guy's last talk. You had moved out of the city along with Becky and started room mating with Mason. The first two years of moving forward were hard, but with the help of Becky and Mason, everything started to feel just right. Your two friends opened up their own law firm called M & B Laws. You also got a job at a daycare not too far from their work.

Since that night, you have never seen Jungkook again, but you were grateful to have followed his Instagram profile. You guys would exchange DM's here and then, asking about each other's days, new stuff. But after the third year, the texts stopped coming and you guys were now strangers.

You were alone at home, and Becky and Mason were working overtime. In times like this, you wished you had a dog or cat, a companion to keep you company. The TV was playing Iron Man; you weren't too focused on the TV screen, instead, the only thing that had your attention was your phone screen. Scrolling through Instagram, and liking random stuff, you came across a post from Jungkook.

You sat up from the couch. It's been months since his last post. The picture that was displayed on your screen was a photo of Jungkook and a woman. You tucked your hair from behind your ears to get a better look. His post was seven hours ago. The caption from his post said, "Happy 2 years, baby! I'm happy to have circled the sun with you twice, and I can't wait for more. I love you, Yuna!"

You from before would've been so heartbroken. She would've cried herself to sleep, despising herself more and more for losing him. But you are so happy now; you are so happy for him. You looked at the picture and for the first time in a long time, Jungkook showcased a genuine and happy smile. His eyes weren't facing the camera, they were locked on the beautiful woman in front of him. His eyes were filled with so much love and adoration, his smile was shining with so much joy. Your heart's not broken, it's far from it. Your heart is healed, and your heart is happy. You can't wait to see what the world has to offer.

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woncherie · 1 year

Text

i sat in my lecture and started daydreaming about scaramouche,, this is what came out. enjoy!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, alcohol drinking, nsfw under alcohol influence, small mention of drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail. (please tell me if I missed something)

wc: 2.2k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

You kneeled on the floor of the campus, hair and clothes wet with some fluid you couldnt specify yourself. it definitely wasn't water. you looked up the windows to the upper floors, seeing a familiar face looking down on you and your now wet books and clothing.

"oops. my mistake." you heard scaramouche yell down to you, his friends also peaking down the window and laughing histerically. obviously, it wasn't a mistake. and he wasn't sorry. he never was.

scaramouche was a fellow student of yours. he was popular, had good grades without even trying, was participating in multiple uni sports clubs and everyone loved him. everyone but you.

its not like you hated him from the beginning. you were indifferent about him, you only heared rumors about him the first year in uni, he was a complete stranger to you. but when he met you for the first time, scaramouche made it his personal goal to destroy you.

you hated him. you hated his ugly face, his annoying laugh, his irritating character, his whole bothersome being.

but why does he hate you? you never treated him wrong, hell, you barely even know him. he just started mistreating you one day without a warning, shoving you around, kicking your books through the hallways, destroying your property and forcing you to do his work.

the second the professor is mentioning a group project he is up your ass, smirking dangerously and making you do all the work. and dont even dare fucking up the project and ruining his grades. "im looking forward to good cooperation.~" was all he always said before never showing up to the projects again.

the bullying continues over a whole year, which made it really hard for you to find friends in the new semester. everyone knew that he has you on his watch, and everyone knows if you are friends with them, he's gonna be up their ass too.

you only found one friend, but he is the best. you didnt need more. he didnt care about the bullying or the "danger" of being close to you.

albedo always helped you with your projects when your very useful partner refused to do his share, which resulted in you always passing and sending in your project before the deadline.

even though the past semester ended some months ago and the new one started, scaramouche and his jerk ass friends didnt let you go (which you prayed for every other night.)

But you didnt want him to destroy your last year at college, you wanted fun, you wanted friends, you wanted a normal college life. you promised yourself to not let him get away with everything again, to fight back.

but somehow, you still sat on the concrete floor, a big puddle of whatever the fuck this fluid is right under you and your books. fuck.

you can't believe that everything is starting all over again. you promised yourself to fight back this time.

the semester just started a week ago, and things didnt change. it frustrated you to no end to just sit there defenseless, but what should you do? stepping up for yourself seemed so much easier in your head.

☆

"Are you coming to the party later tonight?" you heared albedo ask. he laid down on his stomach on your bed, tablet on your pillow, preparing the lectures for the next day.

you went home and skipped your lecture earlier today, showering and drying your hair. whatever scaramouche threw on you smelled like shit, and you didnt want it to stain your clothing.

"are YOU going?" you asked the blonde who seemed to be heads deep into his notes. "usually it's me who forces you to leave your home and meet a few new people.", you teased him.

uni started barely a week ago, therefore semester partys followed right behind. especially at the beginning, where most of the students aren't drowning too much in lab reports, protocols and exams yet.

"yeah, that's why I'm asking you. you didnt mention the party yet, which isn't like you at all."

You sat down next to your door at the plug socket, inserting the airdryer and drying your hair before answering. "The first few parties are the best ones. of course I'm going."

☆

you just arrived with albedo at the party and you two immediately got dragged to the beer pong table by a few friends of him that you barely knew. they usually tried to avoid your presence, but once they are shit ton of drunk, everyone of them becomes your friend as well. it was always like this. you didnt mind it, you were just happy that at least a few people were talking to you.

You enjoyed the first few hours at the party a lot, drinking and playing games, shotting drinks and dancing to the music.

of course, scaramouche and his friends were at the party too, drinking heavily, smoking weed and fighting around. but you didnt care. you ignored them all, immediately leaving the room when they appeared in your view.

You pulled albedos arm and pointed into the kitchen once they headed near you. "let's head there, sucrose and yanfei are there too."

he just nodded and followed you, trying his best to walk properly.

After you shared a few more drinks with your friends, the alcohol did start hitting you properly.

you tried your hardest to ignore scaramouche and his friend group who were partying hard in the living room of the house, standing in the kitchen with albedo and sucrose yourself. where even is he? you thought, not spotting him with the rest of his friends who were all shit ton of drunk, dancing or making out with poor girls from the lower semesters. how pitiful. they didnt know what will happen to them. dont fuck the bad guys, they will drain you mentally and destroy you, only to drop them afterwards like an used tissue.

not that you cared though. you are happy to not see scaramouche ugly face constantly in the crowd of people.

you didnt plan on letting him destroy your last year in college, you will NOT let him destroy you like last year. at least that's what your plan was. somehow he still succeeded in bullying you regularly in the first week of the new semester.

after shotting a few more drinks you lean to albedo who was sitting on your left side, speaking in his ear tipsily. "I need a bit fresh air, ill be going out for a few minutes."

it took albedo quite a few seconds to understand what you said, being more than just a bit woozy himself. "Yeah sure." he answered then.

you stood up and started walking down the hallway towards the door, dodging pissed drunk students left and right. a few of them recognized you, waved and nodded at you, which you always mimiced.

Once you left through the door and stood at the front yard, a cold breeze passed you and you immediately shivered. should've taken a jacket with me. you let your head fall back into your neck, closing your eyes and rubbing your arms to warm yourself up a bit, taking in deep breaths of fresh air. the house really started to smell sweaty and clammy, so the air really made you feel better right now.

Right when you started to enjoy the cold breeze, you hear someone chuckle behind you. "Wow, you really must like me, everywhere i go you are following me." you recognized his voice immediately, sighing slightly annoyed the second you heared him snicker behind you.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing scaramouche leaning against the house wall, a nearly completely smoked cig between his lips, and damn did you curse yourself for checking him out. you hoped he didnt notice.

"Fuck off, im not in the mood." you miffed, leaning your head back once again into your neck.

"The fuck you doing here? shouldnt you be studying in your little room for the next exams? you still have a few protocolls and lab reports of mine to prepare, too." he pushed himself of the wall that he leaned on, dropping the cigarette on the floor and stepping on it before making his way to you, grinning stupidly. You knew he was about to harrass you again.

you started to become mad. more than usual. you didnt know if it was the alcohol that made you more agressive, but you were done with him. you couldnt let him continuously step on you and your dignity, you needed to fight back to get rid of him.

before he even arrived next to you, you turned around and faced him, your hand landing on his face, grabbing it and pushing him against the wall he just walked away from, your hands squishing his cheeks and making his mouth open.

scaramouches eyes widened in shock, not expecting you to get violent, out of all people.

"I told you to fuck off right now, didnt i?" your face came closer to his, feeling your hot breath on his face. "im done playing your stupid games. find yourself another victim." Your nails started digging into his cheeks, making him whine out and moan in pain silently, his eyes never leaving your face, heart beating a bit faster than usual. he didnt even notice the small moan he let out until it was your turn to widen your eyes slightly.

"Did you just-?"

It took him a moment to realise what you were talking about. once he did though, his whole face started getting red, eyes wide in fear and awkwardness. this did not just happen. no way. he panicked, his brain not being able to form complete sentences and finding excuses.

"There is no way.." You started laughing slowly, but louder and louder by every passing second. "Scaramouche? You? A masochist?"

Scaramouche didnt know what to do other than shake his head in denial, eyes tearing up in embarrassment.

"Let go of me." he demanded, heart hammering against his chest, but you only continued laughing. "are you stupid? after all these months of you destroying my life, do you seriously believe im going to just let you go this easily? you fucking slut."

You pushed two of your fingers into his mouth and he couldnt help himself but suck on them obediently. fuck. that's it. he thought. he's done.

but he didnt care. he doesnt know if it was the alcohol and the drugs in his blood, but he leaned into your touch, enjoying the way you degraded him. he didnt even check if there are other people around on the front yard, he didnt care. he just needed your touch.

your own breath started speeding up too, enjoying the view in front of you even more than scaramouche does. "Not so bold now, are you?" you teased him, your left hand supporting your body weight on the wall, caging him in.

scaramouches way of answering was sucking hard on your fingers, swirling his tongue around the digits. your leg settled between his two, and he gave in, sliding down the wall until he sat on your thigh, hard dick pressing on it. you couldn't help but gasp, your grin growing bigger and bigger as he moved his hips on your leg.

"open up." you said after removing your fingers from his mouth, looking at him demandingly. his face was flushed, hair dishelved, pupils widen in lust, no thoughts in his head left. he opened his mouth, waiting nervously about what you are gonna do next.

you took a second and collected spit in your mouth, leaning over his head and letting it drip down into his own. "dont swallow yet." you ordered.

scaramouche stood there, mouth still wide open with your spit on his tongue, dick pulsating in his pants, arms pressed to the wall and you couldnt feel better about the whole situation. "why can't you always be this obedient?" you asked him. "you could've saved me so much harm."

he looked up to you with big eyes, getting more and more impatient. but instead of giving him what he wanted, what he needed, you took your phone out of your pocket and took a quick picture of him in this position.

scaramouche didnt know how fast it happened. was it the alcohol that made him react slower? was he too horny to even say anything until it was too late? he didnt know.

he chocked on the spit and you let go of him, the lack of your touch and the cold wind breeze making him freeze. "Did you just???" he began to ask, but you took a few steps back.

"Dare to come close to me in uni again, and the whole campus will see a picture of their beloved football player being a horny slut on my thigh." you blackmailed him.

Scaramouche couldn't help but open his mouth and close it again continuously, unable to cope with the whole situation right now.

"You dont dare.." he said, trying to threaten you, but you didnt give in.

"Watch me." you said, showing him your middle finger before slowly leaving him behind, quoting him before disappearing completely. "I'm looking forward to good cooperation.~"

☆☆☆

every time I post a fic I have the urge to apologize for my broken english. I hope you still enjoyed it nonetheless!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche #sub!scaramouche #dom!reader #scaramouche x reader #scaranation #genshin x reader

2K notes · View notes

haruhey · 5 months

Text

Wish I Never Met You

check out my masterlist!

Word count: 4k

Fluff | Angst | Thank you @weretheones and @normanplusdaryl for betaing <3

You’re part of Daryl’s past, but you could also be his future.

A bad day leads the two of you to each other.

Whoever said it’s better to love and lose Never loved and lost you

Daryl barely made it through sophomore year.

In all honesty, he was impressed he even got to junior year. When Merle left at the tail end of spring, he - in all of his younger brother naïveté - thought he would come back before the semester ended, taking him from the dump they called a house and from that asshole they had the unfortunate pleasure of calling their old man.

But July came and went, then August, and by the time the new school year rolled around, Daryl stopped waiting for him - just shouldered his backpack and went to school because where the fuck else was he supposed to go?

He gave the whole school thing two weeks. It was enough time to mark off attendance - to lay low before he traded his backpack for his crossbow and started hunting for that weird butcher shop three blocks down to make some money - and he had intended on following it.

Intended, being the right word, because the plan went to shit the second Mr. American History started pairing people up for those dumb, mandatory, biweekly collaborative projects.

Intended, because it just had to be you he was paired with, didn't it? His stupid classroom crush he tried so hard to stop thinking about?

He remembers seeing you for the first time in some math class in sophomore year, and he’d, in his hormone-ruled, bored-out-of-his-mind teenage brain, spent the better half of the period just looking at you. He never worked up the courage to say anything about it to anyone, but you were the prettiest thing he’d seen in his 16 years on Earth, and he hated the way you made his hands all clammy.

Even years later, he looks back on the months he spent being your friend, and he still feels that crushingly familiar clench of his chest.

Maybe it wormed its way almost permanently into him those weeks he first sat next to you in American History. It was a compulory course and both you and he hated it. The teacher - Durand, but Daryl took to calling him Dickhead and Deranged just to see which would make you roll your eyes the hardest - was a notorious douchebag, round glasses over a nose that was entirely too big to stay on his face and three strands of gray hair that seemed to be holding onto his head by spite alone.

He never seemed to take Daryl seriously, even though Daryl knew more than double the amount of history you did. You could pick his brain for hours about the pirates and the Sumerians and the Cherokee and their legends, and he’d let you, despite the glare that marked over his face for anyone else.

In exchange, you let him pick your brain, too. Over the piece of apple pie the two of you would share on the rare occasion you’d both scraped together enough to figure it would be worth buying, he asked about your future. He tried picturing himself with you through it all despite knowing there was nothing for him outside of this shithole town, and he listened to you talk.

He could listen to you talk for hours.

You had big dreams, considering you came from the same place he did, but he had faith you could do it. He knew you could, and even looped his pinky with yours, your thumb pressed up against his while he promised to make it to graduation. He had to watch you toss your cap and flip the bird at 4 years of hell, didn’t he?

But then winter came, and with the Christmas break rounding the corner, Merle came back too, peeling into the dirt road in front of the Dixon dump and taking Daryl along with him. You remember coming back when the second semester started, the same room that had once been used for History now a Government class, and you had hoped to suffer through it together.

You made it through one school week until you’d started asking around.

Nobody got themselves involved with the Dixons - with their surly tempers and their permanent scowls, but you’d gotten into the habit of ignoring those words when you were with Daryl - so when no answers turned up, you weren’t really surprised.

You figured he must have finally gotten his out from his old man.

It was only at graduation that you’d found out what happened to him, overhearing one of the principals talking about how both of Will Dixon’s sons had run away from home and how he’d drunkenly bragged about finally beating sense into them, and, though you knew it was selfish, as the ceremony ticked on, you still hoped Daryl would come back in time to watch your cap toss.

He never did.

When he finally did come back to Georgia, it was a little over a full year later. The old lady that ran the diner the two of you hung around after school had told him that you got a scholarship offer in May - some bigshot school out west - and that you’d packed your bags and left in August.

You weren’t set to come back until the year ended in April, and he wasn’t planning on staying.

He wasn’t planning on making staying anywhere a habit, and, in the blink of an eye, twenty years passed.

A second blink and the world fell.

Everything changed so quickly that it truly did feel like an instant as minuscule as a blink - the dinosaurs had the meteor, and life before them had the ice age - and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a breath before a new age flooded in.

It seems like everything he thought about was about the future. Some of it he would have considered trivial before - when the next meal would come, when the next time he’s going to fill his canteen is and where the next source of freshwater is - but, in this blip of time, he hesitates to call it that.

Sometimes, when he went out on his bike or shouldered his crossbow and slipped his knives into his holsters, he thought about how Li’l Asskicker and Carl would grow up - how they would never really get to be kids in the same way Rick probably wanted them to be - and almost nothing he did felt trivial anymore.

It scared him, he guesses - how much he cared about those kids and how much everyone else did, too.

He wished someone cared about him like that when he was younger.

It was good, though, this pressure. Daryl was never really one to half-ass anything in the first place, but with the intake of Woodbury and the Council’s decision to start bringing people in, there was a new drive to care. It rippled through the prison, and he liked it, being a part of something bigger than himself.

He felt like someone new.

Someone that mattered - that did good - instead of being some asshole with a bigger asshole for a brother.

At least, he did until he saw you.

Two weeks after taking in the people of Woodbury - with one week spent out recruiting and another spent in the infirmary because they’d met some less than friendly people who definitely did not fit the recruitment criteria - he saw you from around the corner, an all too familiar face helping Carol with meal prep in the courtyard.

He didn’t eat lunch that day, and to say he avoided you was an understatement.

There was something about you that brought back feelings he would have rather left in the past. You reminded him of when he was a teenager, stuck in his shitty hometown with his piece of shit old man and no way out. But at the same time, you reminded him of those nights spent down at the creek, skipping stones and staring at the stars, that comforting lack of second-guessing because he knew he was, for the first time in his life, in the company of someone who actually wanted to spend time with him.

You reminded him of that diner with the warm apple pie, and he never could forget the first time his heart ever beat against his ribs like it was too big for his chest.

But, most of all, you reminded him of first love and his broken promise - of a future he could never have had.

Daryl hated it, being confronted with his past like that.

So yeah, maybe he did revert back to his old ways of hiding and just trying not to think about his problems, and yeah, maybe he did take one too many runs back to back so he wouldn’t have to keep fighting the urge to look for you despite simultaneously being scared shitless at the thought of talking to you, but it was successful in staying away from you, and that’s all he cared about.

Or, well, he thought it was.

Because, though it’s been nearly two decades since you’d thought about high school - with it long since becoming college, and college into adulthood - it’s crossed your mind more than you’d liked to admit lately. It’s an odd feeling, an ill-fitting nostalgia creeping through the holes of your blanket-covered cell bars, but it was oddly comforting. You never thought you’d ever think of that place as comforting, but maybe it wasn’t high school that you found yourself chasing in the dead of night.

It was him.

Daryl never really knew how popular he was - here, and back then, when those minutes before and after gym class divulged into shushed remarks about his looks and half-serious confessions of crushes muttered to the secrecy of the changeroom’s four walls - but you did. You were always on the other side of it, silent in your agreement.

Woodbury - or, well, ex-Woodbury - was no different.

He’s a far cry from that scrawny little kid you split your lunch with all those years ago, but there's still the linger of boyish handsomeness to him that made your cheeks heat when you thought about him too long. There was no mistaking him for anyone else, but that subdued, ultraviolet warmth you’d grown familiar with was gone from his eyes.

He’s not seventeen anymore, flipping his uncut hair from his face as he taught you how to skip stones and catch fireflies, but you wanted to talk to him all the same. There’s not much left from the old world - let alone much that you could have considered good, or wanted to remember - but he’s one of the few things you’d cared enough about to keep safe from the pulling tide that faded your memories.

He made that shitty town more bearable, even if it was for those few months. Gritting your teeth and enduring had become tiring until he’d grimaced at that first History Inquiry project and made you laugh with the annoyed upturn of his lip.

You’d planned on thanking him at graduation, but he’d left months before then.

You’d planned on a lot of things to be frank, but there’s no reason to linger in the past when now is a shell of what then was.

There’s even less of a reason when now feels heavier than then ever was.

Today would have marked ten days without incident, a first foray into the monumental double digits until the sun had set behind the return of the run crew’s RV and Beth was forced to flip the number back to zero.

It’s been four hours since they came back - a quarter of the group gone from the unfriendlies they’d met, another dealing with the aftermaths of the encounter and one more made up from those the crew’s recruited - and it’s the first time in those four hours that you’ve left the dingy wing of the infirmary.

You didn’t hate it in there. Far from it, actually, with Hershel and the others being half-decent company and seeing the work you did benefiting people, but the infirmary, especially on days when the crews rounded back, meant the stinging smell of blood and death lingered no matter how much you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. It stuck to every crevice on your body, and it permeated. Guilted you for not trying hard enough and not knowing enough.

On days like this, everywhere you went seemed too small and too unforgiving, and you’re not sure if you can stand tossing and turning in your bunk. The night sky is a friendlier sight than your ceiling, and the view from the abandoned watchtower is a hell of a lot better than the tiny, barred-up window at the corner of your cell.

If you’re lucky enough, maybe sleep will steal you for a couple of hours before the sun comes up. At least enough to make it through the next day.

You have faith it will - you can already feel the first wave of exhaustion pull at your bones.

Taking a breath, you press your hands into your pockets after pushing the door to the Prison open and slipping out. Autumn is beginning to seep through the cracks of summer and the nights are starting to get colder, but your jacket should be enough until you climb up and find sanctuary in the sleeping bag you’d left there three days ago.

It doesn’t take long to reach the door - if you jig the knob to the right before twisting and skip the third step from the top, the trek upwards is close to silent - but when you open it, the creak yields, at first, an expletive before the annoyed voice tears through the quiet.

“I already told ya I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout-”

The volume of him makes you take a step back, the sound of a man making your body lock up for just a second before you recognize the mess of hair atop his head and the wings stitched on the back of his vest, and you make quick work getting to him, crossing the platform in a single stride.

“Daryl?”

And he’s quick to realize the person speaking to him isn’t Carol like he’d thought. Though he really really really hopes it’s not you, the familiarity of your voice leaves little room for speculation, even before he turns his head and - for the first time in a long time - really, really looks at you.

“Oh.”

His heart beats in his ears and locks his throat before he can muster up anything else to say, and for a second, you wonder if you should introduce yourself to him.

“Sorry, I, uh, wasn’t expectin’ no one to be here.”

But the knowing upturn of his eyebrows - his apology, and the way he scoots himself over to make room for you the same way he did in those library reading nooks - tells you you don’t need to, and your shoes slide against the concrete as you drop down to a sit.

He remembers you, too, the sweat of his hands too obvious with the fact, even though he wishes he didn’t.

He wishes there wasn’t a familiarity in the way you sidle your body against his, swinging your legs underneath the railing and over the balcony, and he wishes he couldn’t feel the heat coming off of you.

He wishes it didn’t wrap him up like the warm rays of sun, and he fights down a smile at the fact that you always were so bright. He wishes he didn’t remember you like that - glossed over in a blinding, yellow hue.

Daryl wishes he never remembered you like sunshine - he wishes he didn’t still.

Picking up the glass next to him - just to occupy himself and bide the time until his nervousness hopefully washes away into general apathy - he takes a sip before setting it down and taking a pull of the cigarette in his other hand.

The smoke is slow to fill his lungs, but he welcomes it anyways, holding it there as the nicotine-drawn buzz settles in his brain, and then he breathes it out, angling his head up and away from you.

You never liked it, the Malboros he’d swiped from his old man that he’d keep tucked in the smallest pocket of his worn-down backpack, but you’d told him one night, not unlike the one you’re both trying to find solace in right now, that you were scared of what his father might do if he found out.

Then you slipped in the obviousness of his health, just to break the tension of vulnerability, but it hit Daryl like a truck, the fact that he’d never had someone think about him like that before - like they actually cared.

“Heard your brain cells can rot if you do that.”

He raises an eyebrow at you only to be met with a small smile playing at your lips and the slightest bit of a sparkle in your eye, and the taste still lingering on his tongue reminds him of what he’s been doing. The glass is half full with the room-temperature whiskey he’d tried to make himself feel better with after stitching up his own wounds, and there’s ash from his smoking gathered beside one of the railing's poles, and despite the knowing you’re probably right, he sighs, waving your concern away.

“Ain’t worried. Don’t got a lotta them anyways.”

The cigarette between his fingers is lit still, and he takes another drag before the grayed end of it crumbles to the floor, fighting the upward tug of his cheeks at the sound of your amused huff and your quick response.

“That’s why you gotta take care of the ones you still have, Daryl.”

Scoffing, he tilts the edge of the glass towards you, holding it out for you until you take it from him, and he tries not to think about how the tips of his fingers burn when they brush up against yours. It’s not as sweet, the innocence of a teenage crush long since faded into the dull pang of expired love and loss, but it rushes through him all the same.

He would have offered you a cigarette, too, but you’ve never been one to pick up habits that bad.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you then, the sky offering a serenity the two of you are less than strangers to, and you wince from the liquor when you finally take a sip. It’s nothing like the moonshine he’d smuggled from his dad’s stash - it went down a hell of a lot smoother than you remember that shit going - but your tolerance has taken a nosedive since weekends unwinding and inter-departmental parties had ended.

Besides, the only places you could get alcohol back in Woodbury were way above your paygrade.

Placing the cup back onto the concrete, you steal a glance at Daryl, spending just a second studying the curve of his nose and the jut of his cheekbone. He’s more handsome than he’s ever been, and you can feel the heat rush up your neck before you blink away the thought.

Get a hold of yourself.

But you can’t, not when he’s so close, and you’re not sure if it’s wholly unselfish, what makes you drop your eyes down from his face, but you do, and you realize why he was so on edge when he heard the door open.

He’s fidgeting. Ever since he put out his cigarette, he’s restless and can’t quite figure out what to do with his hands in the same way he was when you’d asked him why he never wanted to go home back in the school library, and it sends you back, too, a familiar pit growing in your stomach. It’s like he’s that kid again, scared of telling you - or, well, people - things that hurt because his stupid brother and dad drilled into him that he’s less of a man for even feeling hurt in the first place, and it’s equal parts infuriating and concerning.

You can tell that the gears are turning in your head as you try to piece him together; a run crew came back just today, and you haven't seen him in a little while. It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection - especially with everyone’s propensity to talk about how Daryl brought them in - and though you might regret it, you decide to pry.

Not pry, just ask.

Conversation used to flow so easily between the two of you. Were you naïve to hope it would again?

“Bad day?”

It’s small, your voice, teetering in the air with its uncertainty, but Daryl doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he glances down at the space between you, wrapping his fingers around the highball before meeting your gaze, and he bites the inside of his cheek, weighing the option of telling you or not.

“Jus’ tired is all.”

And though he hesitates those first few words, your eyes are so kind - so genuinely caring - that he can’t stop himself from saying more.

That was what he was scared of.

Why hasn’t he let you go?

“Sick’a fuckin’ losin’ people.”

The frustration when he speaks is palpable, and you’re not sure if it’s bravery or stupidity that makes you move - maybe it’s both, culminating in your own desire that someone would finally see through your crippling bravado and offer you a hug or something - but your hand snakes out to grab his before you even think, shaking it slightly in the strength of your squeeze.

Then he freezes, and for a second, you think you must have overstepped - that he’s going to push you away and yell at you and leave - but he doesn’t. He just takes a breath, the heft of it rising his shoulders then dropping it as he squeezes your hand back harder, a silent thank you in the press of his fingers against yours.

But still, he lets go, afraid the warmth in his chest might make him do something he regrets, and you chew at the dried skin of your lip, thinking about the right thing to say.

Fuck, you could never navigate things like this - it got better as you got older, sure, but words always seemed to fall short when it came to you and him - and when you finally settle on something, half of you wonders if it was just because you thought it better than nothing.

“I feel you.”

Because what else are you supposed to say? That it’s going to be alright and that he shouldn’t blame himself because it's so blatant he is? It’s thin ice you’re walking on, the fear of sounding patronizing drowning out the spark of hope you want to light him with, because you remember the man he was. He’s never had anyone fighting in his corner, and you’re not callow enough to think he thinks of you as something - someone - different.

But he does. He does think of you as someone different, and he wants to say more, but he doesn't know where he stands with you, or with himself. If he says what he’s thinking - that he feels like it is his fault and that he’s not sure if he could ever stop feeling like that. That he’s scared shitless and like it’s some big joke that people actually look up to him for things - wouldn’t that make it feel too real?

So he doesn’t. He just tips the lip of the glass against his and takes another sip to make sure his mouth is occupied, staring down at the bottom ridge of it until you speak again, and he’s helpless to do anything but look at you.

“At least it’s beautiful out tonight.”

He’s sent back to twenty years ago then - the scrawny redneck you’d somehow deemed good enough to be your friend forcing his old habits back to the him of the present - and he can’t help the squeaked little noise of a response. Words have always been hard for him, too. They’re hard for him to think of and even harder for him to form, and it’s made worse by the fact it’s almost like he’s back at 16, convinced that you’re too pretty to talk to.

“Yeah.”

And though you hear his hum of agreement, he never looks away from you, admiring the curve of your familiar smile and the rise of your cheekbones.

The lurch of his heart comes back then - the same beat against his ribs that he hated all those decades ago - and it’s stark then, the realization you’ve never really left him.

“Ain’t never seen nothin’ like it.”

Pressing his lip to the edge of the glass once more, he welcomes the burn of whiskey when you smile at the moonlit horizon, and he watches as you lean your chin against your arms.

You’re beautiful - more beautiful than all the colours in the star-speckled sky - and he could stare for hours.

#haruwrites #daryldixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead oneshot #twd

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astrophileous · 1 year

Text

Love Bugs (Pt. 03)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): pregnancy, brief talk of abortion, stalker behavior, kidnapping, curse words (this shouldn't even warrant a warning at this point lol) pls lmk if I miss anything

Word Count: 2000-ish

Author's Note: told ya the pt 3 would be here sooner than you'd expect! as always, LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG cause these give me the motivation I need to finish the parts sooner and maybe upload more frequently 👀

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You always took pride in your ability to predict things correctly. It was one of the best traits that made you a great profiler.

Not this time, though.

This time, your ability to conjure correct predictions just seemed like a big joke that the universe purposefully played out to torture your ass.

The ringtone of your phone's incoming call snapped you back to reality. Without looking at the caller ID, you pressed the green button and brought the device to your ear.

"(Y/L/N) speaking."

"Hey, Beets. Where are you?" came the voice of one Penelope Garcia. "Hotch is looking for you. Are you coming in today?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm coming in. Sorry, it was an emergency. Tell the others I'll be there shortly."

After ending the call, you rushed through the rest of your morning routine as quickly as possible. The three opened boxes on the bathroom sink were thrown into the garbage can in no time. Their contents sitting on the counter, however, required you to pause and contemplate what course of actions you would want to do to deal with the problem at hand.

Upon realizing that this was not the kind of dilemma you could solve in a matter of minutes, you decided to fuck it before dumping the items into the same garbage can.

The three tests with two little pink lines would have to wait.

You had a serial murder case to solve.

If five months ago someone had told you that you'd someday end up carrying the child of Derek Morgan, you would have ordered a psychological evaluation for them right then and there.

The past few days had been a catastrophic turmoil. At first, the irrational anger had devoured you whole. You were this close to calling the company who produced your pills for claiming that they had 99% chance of preventing exactly the kind of mess you were going through from happening. Granted, they had put the minus 1% up there to save face in case anything like this were to ever happen. But what were the chances of you being one of the outliers in that small percentage?

Apparently, a pretty good one.

Then, the panic quickly had taken control and messed up with your head. The endless anxiety of having to bring a child into such a cruel world and bearing the responsibility of raising it, while having witnessed what kind of evil lurked underneath its facade, almost threw you to the brink of insanity. During those moments of fear, you had even entertained the idea of possibly terminating the pregnancy, even going as far as calling the nearest facility to question more about the procedure.

But once the fog had cleared, and you were able to start thinking rationally again, realization soon dawned upon you.

You wanted to keep the baby.

In some curious plot twist, you discovered that the idea of having this baby wasn't as scary as the knowledge of having to face Derek and inform him of the news.

And that was exactly what had been occupying your entire mind: how to break the news to Derek.

You barely even had the guts to talk to him directly anymore. Yet somehow, you had to find a way to tell him that you were pregnant, right to his face, as if you were bringing the news of a new movie that had just premiered in your nearest local theater.

How the hell were you ever going to do that?

And it wasn't like you were worried that Derek wouldn't be supportive about your decision to keep the baby. Even if he was unsupportive, there was nothing he could do to persuade you to change your mind. But Derek--sweet and kindhearted Derek--would never do such a thing. Having lost his father at a very young age himself, there was no way anyone could keep him from taking care of his child, no matter how they came to be in this world.

So, before you could gather your thoughts--and yourself--you had decided to put off telling Derek about your current condition.

"Still nothing, Garcia?" Hotch asked from his place in front of the board.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I've tried everything, but there was nothing else I could uncover from that tape."

The rest of the team was seated around the round table. It had been two weeks since the BAU received the video tape from the UnSub, and Garcia had finally revealed that there was nothing more to be analyzed from the tape despite having only obtained insignificant details out of it.

It also didn't help that the UnSub had been lying dormant since that video was delivered.

"It just doesn't make sense," Rossi said frustratedly. "Why would he stop now? What is he waiting for? This guy gets off on attention. Stopping his theatrics at a time like this doesn't fit his profile at all."

"He must be looking to get his attention from somewhere else," Derek chimed in.

"Yeah, but the question is where?" Reid interjected.

"And what is he planning to do to make sure he gets it?" Hotch let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we're not going to stop just because this guy has. Emily, JJ, try interviewing the victims' families, friends, and the witnesses again. See if they suddenly have something useful for us. Morgan and Rossi, follow up on our other leads. Reid--"

"The case files. I know." Reid nodded.

"Right. And (Y/L/N)--" Hotch pinned his stare towards you, "--I need to talk to you. Thank you, everyone. Dismissed."

"Are you in trouble?" Emily leaned in as the rest of the team scattered out of the room.

"Not as far as I know," you whispered.

As you walked the path to Hotch's office, your mind began searching for the possibilities behind Hotch's sudden request to see you privately. You didn't get to guess for too long, though, as you finally arrived in front of his door almost in no time at all.

"Come on in, Agent. Close the door behind you," he commanded. You turned around to nudge the door closed. "Have a seat."

You didn't spend any time beating around the bush once you had sat down.

"Can I ask what this is about?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Hotch looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "I heard you requested a half day off today."

"I, uh... yes. Yes, I did. Is that why I'm here?"

"No. That is not why you're here." Hotch leaned back against his seat. "You've been distracted lately. You're coming late to work, and you can't seem to focus when you're around."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"You should know that I've received concerns about you from the other members of the team."

What?

"Was it JJ?" you asked. "Because if this is about what happened in the bathroom--"

"It was Garcia, actually."

"Oh."

Hotch looked at you curiously. "What happened with JJ in the bathroom?"

"Nothing, sir. It was nothing."

The next few seconds were drowned in silence. The ticking clock on Hotch's desk became the only sound echoing against the walls. Hotch was examining you as if you were a suspect in the interrogation room, and with how much scrutiny was sizzling inside those eyes, you might as well have been.

"They're not the only ones concerned about you, (Y/L/N)," he spoke carefully. "I've also noticed that you haven't been yourself lately. You seem tired all the time. You look paler every single day." Hotch readjusted his tie before continuing, "I know that what we do here isn't easy. This job, it's not for everyone. Sometimes our limits are much smaller than what we thought it would be, and that's okay. If you'd like to put in a request for a transfer, I'm sure I will be able--"

"Sir," you stopped him before he could go on any further. "I don't want to transfer. I like working here."

"Just because you like working somewhere, it doesn't mean--"

"Hotch," you cut him off once more. "I'm pregnant."

The priceless look on Hotch's face at the sudden drop of your announcement would forever be ingrained in your brain.

"What?"

"I found out two weeks ago." You smiled tentatively. "I've been having severe morning sickness, and my appetite has also not been the best. Probably why I look tired all the time. I didn't mean to let my condition affect my work, I'm sorry."

"No, no. That's... wow. You're pregnant." Hotch started to nod as if the news was just beginning to fully settle upon him. "Congratulations, Agent. That's wonderful news. You are... happy, right?"

You smiled at his considerate question. "I am very much. Yes."

"How far along are you?"

"My guess is eight to ten weeks. I'm not so sure. Today is my first ultrasound, hence why I requested for half a day."

And then, by some unknown piece of miracle, Aaron Hotchner started to laugh. A real, actual laugh that had both of his eyes wrinkling in the corners. You didn't even know that he could do that without Jack around.

"When I called you in here earlier, this isn't exactly how I pictured the conversation would go," he admitted.

"Neither did I."

"Well--" He cleared his throat, "--there's, of course, a few things we need to go over in rumination of your current condition, but I'm sure we can manage that some other time."

"Of course, sir."

"And (Y/L/N)?" You stared at him expectantly. "You can come to me if you ever need anything. You know that, right?"

The sincerity in Hotch's declaration nearly brought you to tears. You immediately tried to blink back the emotions before you could make a mess of yourself in front of your boss.

"Of course, Hotch. Thank you."

You got up from the chair and began walking towards the door. Before your fingers could touch the handle, you decided to turn around once more.

"Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if we kept this between us for now."

"Of course, Agent." He nodded. "You have my word."

And with that, you exited Hotch's room before heading back straight to your desk.

A few hours later, you were finally returning home after attending the doctor appointment.

Confirming your earlier prediction, the doctor had put the estimated age of your fetus at around ten weeks. According to the internet, your baby was not larger than the size of a mere apricot. It was nothing more than a tiny blob in the sonogram image, but the sight of it alone somehow made you want to break down in tears.

Before you could turn into a sobbing ball of mess, you decided to put the picture right on the front of your fridge.

"Alright, I think that's--"

Thud.

Your head instinctively whipped around at the mysterious sound.

Without wasting another second, your hand immediately reached for the gun tucked safely in your holster. The tiny footsteps you took sounded deafening in the silence of your apartment. You first checked the bathroom, finding it empty with nothing out of the ordinary. The two bedrooms were pretty much the same. Quiet and a little messy just the way that you had left them that morning.

Sighing, you brushed off your paranoia as a result of your overactive hormons and creeping exhaustion.

When you reemerged from taking a shower nearly an hour later, the feeling of dread once again washed over your entire being.

At first glance, not a single thing in the apartment seemed to be out of place. But somehow, the feeling of another presence in the room was indisputable. Your wet feet slowly moved along the floor, careful as to not make as much sound as possible.

Once you arrived in the kitchen, you took in your surrounding, making sure that things really were staying in the places they should have been in.

You were about to sigh in relief until you saw it.

The sonogram image you previously had glued to the fridge.

It was now lying on the floor.

Before you could have a chance to grab the nearest weapon, the door to the second bedroom behind you suddenly began to creak.

"Boo."

That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.

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blackblooms · 2 months

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Since irredeamable wont release for some time. Ill be presenting some of my notable projects. I`ll start with the one i would most recommend. It's pretty old and janky but i think there is plenty to find for those willing to get past its flaws.

Black heart: Play it here and now!

One of my most Ambitious project ever, black heart is a sidescrolling action-adventure game, highly inspired by the zelda series. In it, you play as 3 sisters, going on a perilous journey to rescue their people from the tyrannical grasp of an evil empress.

Pros: -Each of the 3 sisters comes with a unique feel. From their attack pattern to their health, physics, and items. Much of the game is built around those distinctions. -The story is simple but effective, with a clear goal to achieve and many characters to meet. -The world is very expensive and diverse, containing several interconnected zones to discover and explore. -The lore is complex, nuanced, and intricate, each of the races is well-developed with their own history, culture, heroes, and villains. -The dungeons are large and numerous. Each features its own type of puzzle and distinct aesthetic. -The bosses are all unique and ambitious, often featuring several phases, mechanics, and attack patterns. -There are a whole lot of secrets to find, certain fun and silly, others strange or creepy.

Cons: -The main characters are pretty bland and display little personality outside of the few traits they are given. -Combat can be pretty bare-bone and uninteresting outside of boss fights -Some of the writing and lore have not aged well and could be considered a bit tasteless or insensitive. -Since puzzles are often built around specific characters which have their own hp, losing them can force players to backtrack.

Recommended to: -Fans of Zelda games who crave another game in the genre. -People who want to get lost in a big and complex world. -People who want to experience a fantasy world unlike any other. -People who long for a game that they can discover for themselves without risking being spoiled by walkthroughs or wikis.

Estimated Duration: 6-8 hours.

#solodev #game development #indiegamedev #indiedev #game design #fantasy #fantasy world #indie games #free game #zelda #metroidvania #platformer

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sethsclearwater · 10 months

Text

synopsis: part 2 to this blurb where embry realizes he has a corruption kink

warnings: smutty, handjob, dom!embry, sub!reader

notes: links for part 3, 4, and 5 are here!

word count: 1.61k

…

shortly after embry had realized you were much more innocent than he’d originally thought you were, he discovered a new kink of his own: corrupting you.

he was incredibly patient with you, understanding that you needed to move slower than his past relationships. so when you finally told him you wanted to touch him, he could hardly contain his excitement over the prospect of being the first man you’d touched in a sexual manner. despite his persistence on wanting to make you feel good first, you had insisted you wanted to touch him first which he ultimately ended up agreeing to.

“jus’ lay down with me, yea? doesn’t have to be some big show and tell,” embry teased as he slid his hands over your hips, gently tugging you down to curl into his chest, the springs from the old mattress squeaking under the sudden weight of both of you on top of it.

you giggled, cheeks heating up to a bright pink as you hesitantly ran your fingers down his bare chest, cautiously tracing the lines of his abs as your fingers danced closer and closer to the band of his sweatpants, “‘s not gonna bite you babe,” he chuckled, sliding his hand on top of yours and gently guiding it down to his sweatpants.

“can you…” you trailed off, looking up at him nervously as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to gnaw at the flash there anxiously.

he offered you a small smile, using his free hand to thread his fingers through your hair, gently massaging at your scalp, “take it out for you?” he finished for you, letting out a breathy laugh when you nodded, “course i can,” he cooed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

you let out a soft sigh of relief, letting your eyes trail downwards as embry slid his other hand under the thin band of his sweatpants, gently tugging his hardening cock out of its restraints for you to look at.

gasping softly when you saw the sheer size of him, you looked back up at him, jaw dropped as he let out a breathy laugh, “babe,” he chuckled, fingers tightening in your hair momentarily to get your head out of your thoughts to focus on him.

“that’s never gonna fit-” you whimpered, sliding your hand back up his chest and away from his cock which had him letting out yet another breathy laugh.

“babe,” he said again, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “it definitely will. i’m also not gonna fuck you until i know you’re ready for me. gotta take my time with a pretty little thing like you, yea?” he asked teasingly, offering you a small smile when you slowly nodded, the heat in your cheeks letting you know that you were most definitely furiously blushing at this point.

he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, “how do i…” you trailed off again, not having any clue on how to pleasure him with just your hand.

embry chuckled again, offering you a small smile, “touch me?” he asked teasingly, lips curling into a bigger smile when you nodded, blushing profusely over the vulgarity of the whole situation.

“c’mere,” he murmured, sliding his hand over yours and gently guiding it down his bare abdomen, “you let me know if you wanna stop or need a break, yea? don’t want you to do anything you don’t wanna do,” he cooed, helping relax your mind a bit. how you got so lucky to find this man you had no idea but you couldn’t have been more grateful for his patience and empathy when it came to you.

“okay so you’re just gonna wrap your hand around it like this,” he explained softly, taking your hand and gently wrapping it around the base of his cock, “you don’t have to be so gentle with it,” he teased, laughing softly when he saw how loosely you had your hand wrapped around him.

you muffled your giggle against his bicep, absolutely mortified about the whole ordeal, “isn’t it super sensitive though? don’t wanna hurt you,” you murmured, only peeking up to meet his gaze for a moment before looking back down at his cock to see how red the tip was.

he let out a breathy laugh, nodding, “it is, but the base isn’t that sensitive babe,” he reassured, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, “it’s the tip that you gotta be gentle with, yea?” he explained and you nodded, letting out an audible exhale as you refocused your attention on the task at hand.

“can i touch that?” you asked softly, pointing your finger at the tip of his cock that was now an angry red and leaking a profuse amount of precum from how hard you were making him.

he nodded, “yea just-” he started but let out a low groan of pleasure when you took it upon yourself to run your thumb along the tip of his cock, gently smearing some of the precum around the head of his cock, “just like that, fuck-” he groaned, dropping his head back against the pillows as you continued the motion for a moment before sliding your hand back down his cock to gently pump at it.

“a little tighter,” he encouraged, moaning when you did as he told you, “such a good girl,” he groaned, sliding his hand up your back to knot in your hair and pull you close to him as you worked at pumping his cock in your hands.

“fuck you feel so good,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut as you ran your thumb over the tip of his cock again, continuing to slowly pump him in your hand, “can’t wait to be in your pussy,” he groaned, sending a wave of tingles down your spine at the thought of having sex with him, “gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good you have no idea,” he continued, tightening his fist in your hair as you continuing your actions, loving the slew of dirty praises from his lips.

you took your other hand and slid it down to gently cup his balls in your hands, giggling softly when he let out a loud groan at the new sensation, “fuck me,” embry groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he clearly refrained from spilling into your hand right then and there. you, unfortunately for him, had other plans and wanted to see his face when he came so you continued your actions, using one hand to pump his cock while the other gently rolled his balls between your fingers.

“fuck i’m gonna-” he groaned, sucking in a deep breath as he opened his eyes to look at you, “you okay with me cumming?” he asked breathlessly, nearly making your heart stop as you wondered again how you got so lucky to have a man like him to be obsessed with you.

you nodded eagerly, “wanna see you cum,” you murmured, giggling when he nodded and let out another groan, not needing any more confirmation from you before he was coming undone in your hand.

you weren’t totally uneducated about the subject so when he shot his release onto his abdomen, you weren’t too caught off guard, instead just focusing on slowing your movements to help him ride out his orgasm without completely overstimulating the poor man.

“you okay pretty thing?” embry murmured, taking a few deep breaths as he opened his eyes to look at you, chuckling when you nodded and gave him a soft smile, “that felt so good you have no idea,” he praised, “so fucking good,” he reiterated, pulling you close so he could press his lips to your hair.

you giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as he reached his free hand over to his nightstand to grab a hand towel, making quick work of wiping his release off of his abdomen before he was tucking his softening cock back into his sweatpants so he could pull you close to him.

you curled into his chest, smiling softly up at him, “so any update on when you’re gonna let me see that pretty little pussy?” he asked teasingly, chuckling when you blushed and buried your face into his chest.

he was incredibly patient with you, but in all honesty couldn’t wait for you to be ready for him to pleasure you, “tomorrow night? wanna wear something special for you,” you murmured bashfully after a moment, peeking up at him.

he smiled, nodding, “you know you don’t gotta wear anything special for me, right? jus’ wanna make you feel good,” he asked softly, smiling when you nodded and pressed another quick kiss to his collarbone, “‘m sure whatever you have on is gonna look hot though, always does,” he teased, chuckling when you giggled and curled further into his chest.

“you’re staying here tonight, right? like having you close to me,” he asked softly and you hummed, smiling at him.

he pressed his lips to your forehead, letting out a breathy laugh when you giggled and rolled over so you could be the little spoon, always loving cuddling with your human space heater of a boyfriend, “you wanna get some sleep, pretty little thing?” he asked teasingly, smiling when you nodded, already closing your eyes and drifting off, happy to be in his arms for the rest of the night.

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marmot567 · 1 month

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bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

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