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the-masked-ram · 18 days

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Beautiful Disaster- Luca x Scarlette original oneshot

AN: I originally wrote this with fanfic in mind, but realized it fit Scar and Luca very well

A lot more like this available on my ream:

This one shot inspired by Tetris- Madilyn Bailey, her original song that I fell in love with. If you want to read and listen at the same time:

Link

CW: NSFW, Fight, Fear of rejection, talks of 'meeting the parents', AU, original chars, oneshot, make up sex, rough sex

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It had started out so simple that night, like it would have been a good one. It should have been honestly, except he had come home from a shit day, except she had brought on the bombshell of meeting her parents at the wrong time. Except, the fucking strawberry shortcake had been half flattened.

She wasn’t sure what the catalyst was, whether it truly was just his beloved dessert being ruined, or it was something deeper. All she knew was that there had been screaming, so much damned screaming. Even more crying on her part, to the point where her nose felt hot, stuffed full to the brim, and she felt so disgusting.

“Why are you such a fucking asshole, Luca!?” she screamed, and slammed the door as she stepped out into the hall, as she fled down the steps and out into the bitterly cold air of the winter night.

His pained face played over and over in her mind, the way he looked like his heart was breaking even as he spat word after word of vitriol and spite. Scarlette hated him, she hated him because she loved him. Because she wanted him to love her, he loved her right?

She found a bench not far from her flat, the apartment building where the two of them lived together. That meant he loved her, right? That he had agreed to live with her, that he still stayed after all the countless arguments they’d had. But so few of them were like this, so few seemed this painful when all she wanted to do was apologize. Why hadn’t she just apologized?

Once again the pain in his honey-colored eyes flashed across her memory, once again she wanted to take back everything she’d said. Once again, the self-loathing filled her while she shivered on the bench. She brought her knees up to her chest. This was stupid, she was going to freeze out here. Yet she stayed, sniffling wetly, feeling the itch of dried tears on her cheeks.

The sight of familiar long legs came into her vision, when she didn’t look up, he cleared his throat and a warmth settled on her shoulders with the sound of rustling fabric. It made her choke back a sob.

“Don’t cry again,” he said, his tone was brusque and anyone else would have taken offense to it, but this was them, even in the after math of a blow out like that, she knew him.

“’M trying not to,” Scarlette said thickly.

Luca sighed and sat next to her, silence falling between them, only a hint of awkwardness existing, most of the quiet air was familiar and comfortable. She hummed as she leaned against him, snuggling deeper into the jacket around her shoulders, distinctly aware it was too big for her, and that it smelled like him.

“You coming back in? It’s cold out,” he asked, his voice contemplative and soft.

She sighed looking up at the cloudless sky, the night sky pock marked with the bright glitter of stars, “It’s pretty tonight.”

Luca grunted, aware she wasn’t ready to leave and therefore not ready to face what the fight had been about. His eyes trailed over to her, to the expanse of her exposed thighs and calves, to her naked feet, to her chilled forearms, and the way her face brightened as she looked at the stars. She was so perfect, so gorgeous, how did he get this lucky? And why did he keep fucking it up? Just because once he met her parents… he knew he’d want to keep her forever?

Not that he didn’t already, but once that step was taken it would be a tangible thing. It would be just one more step to being permanent. To being together for the rest of her lives, and he was never more afraid of fucking something up irreparably. If he screwed it up after that, would she just drop him? Would he no longer be worthy? Not even a gun at his temple scared him this much.

He continued to observe her, committing each flaw and perfect expanse of skin to memory, everything about her was what he wanted, what he needed. Why did he keep fighting this? Loving her was passion, was heat, she made him feel, it wasn’t easy and that was fine. He’d had easy before and it was more like being numb, being uninvested. But every high with her was like flying to the moon, every quiet moment was like a silence that spoke volumes of flawlessness, and every down was like his heart was breaking. It hurt yeah, but he couldn’t ask for anything more and he sure as hell didn’t want anything less.

That thought is what made him do the unthinkable, Luca apologized.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as an ache shoved it’s way unbidden into his chest and he had to avert his gaze.

Scarlette blinked and turned to look at him closely, Luca never apologized first. He rarely apologized in general, and though she knew he would have done so this time she always had to say sorry first. What the fuck happened?

“Luca?” she asked, voice warbling on the precipice of fear and possibly another melt down.

He clicked his tongue and frowned at his shoes, “I said I’m sorry. The fight was my fault. I’ve… been worried about meeting your parents. Not for the reason you probably think. I-I can’t explain yet, but I want to meet them.”

He stared at her imploringly halfway through his small apology, his eyes swam with a hopeful plea, begging her wordlessly not to ask. She trembled and she really wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the way he looked at her, like her words held the power to destroy him in a breath.

She inhaled and stood, holding her hand out to him, to the man she had chosen, and gave him a hesitant smile, “I’m cold. Let’s go inside.”

He seemed frozen to the spot, before his lips twitched and a tiny, relieved smirk appeared, his warm hand enveloped hers. He joined Scarlette’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was, this was how the two of them worked. They accepted each other, faults and all.

“Of course, you are, it’s winter and you’re wearing hardly anything,” he scoffed, and she pursed her lips in a pout.

He squeezed her hand though and when she looked up, he met her eyes with softness in his face, warmth his smile. Luca was mostly silent in his love, but it was easy to find if one knew what to look for.

When the two of them stepped into the apartment and she shed her coat, what she didn’t expect was the kiss. The aggression that met her, that pressed her up against the wall and tilted her chin to meet his lips in an open-eyed melding of breath, lips, and tongue so hot that it practically melted her. She gasped around his mouth as he pulled back to remove his coat and his shirt, only to come forward again and devour her oxygen greedily.

He broke away again, whispering something against her lips, his mouth so close that his tongue flicked out against Scarelette’s skin, “You always know just what to say. Always understand. I promise I will explain.”

His words held a growl, a hungry sound that matched the look he gave her. She couldn’t help the whimper that slipped passed her lips, couldn’t help the way she let him pull her shirt over her head or the way she let him tease his teeth into her neck. Her hands found their way into the chestnut hairs on his nape, winding tight into them and pulling.

He hissed out a breath against her skin, digging to bite deeper into her skin, Scarlette was sure he left an imprint, but her brain was spiraling in a heady rush of pleasure and so the spark of pain was only an added rush. She moaned for him and made Luca release her with a curse that he fed into her mouth with a harsh press of the lips, a sharp nip, and a tongue that demanded to take everything she was.

She shook in his arms, whimpering because of his relentless movements, his gluttonous behavior. His large palms moved over her body, squeezing flesh and brushing sensitive spots that made her flinch. Her breath hitched as he stepped back only to scoop her up, he’d always been able to move her like she weighed nothing, Luca was a beast in the best way.

She gave into him easily, letting him work his frustrations out in this moment, because though he was aggressive, each touch held his dedication to her. When her back found the bed, her pajama shorts found the floor and Luca hovered over her for a second just drinking in her gaping pupils and stuttering chest.

He was utterly still in those few blinks of time, so it seemed to stretch on forever. When his tongue was on her skin again, he drew nonsensical patterns into her chest, over her nipples, and down her sternum. His hips slotted between her thighs, and she could feel his erection pulse against her.

Scarlette moaned, arching into him and breathed his name, “Luca.”

He groaned in response, pressing his forehead into the sweat starting to collect on her stomach, “What? What do you want? Getting impatient?”

He looked at her with a feral glint in his darkened eyes, as his hands braced on either side of her head, as his gaze never left hers, and as he dragged the weight of his length across the soaked scrap of cotton left on her body. It wasn’t fair. He still had his sweats and his underwear on, but she was so bare in so many ways. Yet, she couldn’t give another thought to caring when the head of his cock caught her clit and she hiccupped in surprise.

“Please, Luca,” she squeaked, breathy and sinful words making it past her swollen lips while he continued to hump into her clothed folds.

He bared his teeth in an approving smile, “Please what? C’mon, I know you ask better than- than that. Fuck.”

Could she? Could she ask better? She wasn’t sure, there was this heady fog in her brain that kept dragging her deeper and deeper into a swamp of lust, really, she couldn’t think. The words were getting harder, not just to process but to say. Her tongue felt loose and heavy, completely useless. But Luca, he was everything right now, she never lost sight of him, she never stopped feeling him, or smelling him. He was all that mattered.

He was everything she needed and everything she had ever wanted; it was like he was what she’d been searching for her entire life. Passion, heat, cold, calm, sadness, and happiness. He was all the sharp edges, and she was the soft curves that he fit into. The two of them healed each other’s wounds. Two beautiful disasters, two fuck ups that completed each other. She smiled, gasping out another breath as her hand reached up and off to the side to find his, encouraging it to twine with hers.

It was with that motion, the squeeze of her fingers between his, that Luca felt what was left of his control snap. He shoved his sweats and briefs down, much too focused about being inside her to care about how they stopped and tangled at his knees. He moved her panties to the side and without any prep he pushed into her.

He let out a soft groan as he felt her walls quiver around him as he sank, oh so slowly, into them. He found her other hand weaving his fingers around her smaller ones to grasp them tight and bring both their hands above her head. He stretched above her, hovering close, and sighed as he bottomed out, that single sound seeming to carry the weight of all his desires. She jerked up to meet him when the soft curls at his base brushed teasingly along her clit.

She shuddered, breathing in his oxygen as his thrusts started slow and easy, turning purposeful while his lips sought hers. The kisses were messy, all open mouthed with nipping teeth and wet tongue. Each moment the two of them broke to breathe, he whispered words of love, things she rarely heard outside these heated moments.

His eyes never left her, even when she tossed her head back in ecstasy, she could feel the weight of his burning gaze. She could feel it trickle through her body like magma. His teeth found their home again in the skin of her jaw and neck, paying silent homage to the way she completed him. Swearing his devotion to her in ways only Luca could. In ways only he was allowed.

She answered his verbal and physical promises of affection, his continuous worship of her, both with words of her own, spoken to the shadows of room, and with reverent presses of her lips against any skin of his she could reach. Scarlette met his movements fluidly, feeling every inch of him, every stroke, to minute detail. The warmth that radiated from him and the sweat that fell from him marked her as his, and she welcomed it greedily.

Then she said, “I am here, Luca. I always will be.”

It was what he needed, what he craved. The pained glint in his eye came back but was quickly devoured by hungry flames. He snarled and his hands moved to spread her thighs wide. They gripped her hips to pull her up and meet his ruts. It was no longer purposeful and slow, now it was wild and lustful.

He thrust into her with abandon, pushing the air from her lungs with each forward movement and making it impossible for her to get enough with the way her body was folded, making it feel as if she were suffocating in the best way. His golden eyes drank in the way her chest bounced with each smack of his hips, the way her skin was painted in cool moonlight and dark shadows, and the way her eyes rolled.

Luca hissed as he felt her walls clenched, her thighs trembled tightly around his waist, and he pressed them open again to allow him to settle in deeper, to set an even more punishing rhythm. She whimpered for him, screamed, begged for something not even she understood, but he answered every call. He watched as her now empty hands grasped desperately at the sheets beneath her, looking for an anchor.

“How do you always know?” he growled, his thumb coming to press tight circles against her clit, making her mind even more strung out, while his cock dragged against every spot inside her that made those colors burst. “H-how do you put up with me? You’re so damned- hng- perfect. I’ll be here, as long as y-you want me.”

Her leg was hiked up to his shoulder and his teeth nipped at the silken skin of her inner knee, Luca’s lips then focused on sucking it, as he felt Scarlette tighten and tremble her way towards her peak. His eyes closed at the sensation for a couple heartbeats even as he continued to ride her through it.

When she bowed beneath him; her body snapping tight and muscles spasming, walls trying to milk him dry, and hump towards his movements mindlessly; Luca felt himself climb closer to his high. His hand shifted back to her hip; her leg left his shoulder to wrap weakly around his waist as he moved to hover back over her. He was stretched tight, and his muscles flexed, as he moved like a man possessed. He thrusted faster, chasing that white hot wave cresting in his body and mind.

She was still contracting quickly and tightly around him, and he was more vocal than he had been in months. He’d needed this, she’d needed this, this emotional and physical reaffirmation of everything the two of them were. How perfect and imperfectly they worked together.

This was their relationship in every sense of the word. A constant push and pull, a regular clashing of wills, the two of them were passion just waiting for a spark. He was gasoline and she was fire and when the conditions were right his emotions or words hit her and caused a flare up.

As he came, he twitched inside her, a growl rippling from his chest so deeply she felt it in hers. He thickened when he filled her walls, and she couldn’t help the micro shudders that racked her body with pleasure.

“Luca,” she whispered, even as he thrusted forward every few breaths subconsciously.

“I want to meet them,” he murmured into her chest.

She looked down at him with an inquisitive eyebrow and gasped as he pushed into her again.

“Your parents,” he said while he kissed the swell of her breast. “I want to meet them. Just… Meeting them… it means a lot. And… What if… what if after all this I’m not who you want?”

And there it was, the insecurities that Luca tried so hard to hide. Scarlette smiled down at him, eyes soft from endorphins and love.

“I wouldn’t want you to meet them Luca, if I didn’t want you, and only you,” she said as she brushed her thumb along his sharp cheekbone.

He was hers, her disaster. Perfect in even his imperfections. She couldn’t ask for anything better and wouldn’t dream of asking for anything more.

#original characters #original fiction #writeblr #writeblr community #one shot

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bookandhook · 1 year

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A Man Called Ove: Book Review #1

There are a total of four books that I began in December of 2022, all of which remain unfinished for the moment, put aside for one book in particular. The only reason for that being is that I saw a trailer for A Man Called Otto starring Tom Hanks and thought 'huh, that looks vaguely familiar'. It was then that I remembered picking up a certain book at Savers earlier in the year on impulse that currently sat, unread, amongst a bunch of other unread books on my fairly new IKEA bookcase that is already filled to the brim.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman made its way onto my TBR for two reasons and two reasons only:

It was going to make me cry, allegedly.

The main character is a grumpy, lonely, old man who learns to love life again (allegedly).

(Full review under the READ MORE. Spoilers marked as such.)

(The cat on the cover also got me, but I digress)

Anyone who knows me in my daily life knows that this is my absolute weakness. Do I know why I love grumpy old men so much? No. Sometimes I suspect it has to do with the fact that both me and my parents were on the same wavelength at one point about the movie Up.

A condensed version of this for people who are interested in this book would be-

The writing was easy and enjoyable. The author has a way of writing Ove that is blunt and to the point, very much like his character. I have a nasty habit of not entirely looking up any sort of warnings about books before going in, because I am the type of person who mainly gets bothered/triggered by visual media instead of that which I am reading. For those going into this book though I would warn strongly that suicide is the main focus of this book. If that is upsetting to you then I suggest you skip this book entirely or be heavily forewarned going in. Also I should be warning against cancer, major accidents, child-loss, and character death.

The main character, Ove, is also very much, as it is stated, a very grumpy and old-fashioned old man. This book is riddled with the horrors of dealing with stubborn old people in retail, homophobic language, racist language, fatphobic language etc. Anything horrible you can think of an old person saying off the cuff is in it-- BUT-- in my own opinion-- it is done well. It is done in an intentional way to show that Ove, though old fashioned and a bit of an asshole, is not a bad character. He does actually care, or learn to care in his own way. His language is a reflection of his life up to a certain point.

We will now enter the part of my review that is riddled with spoilers. You have been warned.

As was mentioned before, suicide is the main focus of this book. Though the main character is not successful, there are many MANY attempts riddled throughout. All of which are interrupted either comedic or otherwise. Ove, struggling with the loss of his wife to cancer and the only person who he feels understood him in this world, has decided that he will join her. Through seeing Ove's day to day you also get flashbacks to his life with Sonja. The two are written to be opposites in every single way, and it is very endearing. Where Ove is blunt, straightforward, and logical Sonja is sweet, poetic, and imaginative. She reads excessively and he builds her bookcases, that is the easiest way I can sum it up that made my heart truly melt.

In order to not truly spoil some of the stuff in the spoiler ridden section of my review I will leave Ove's relationship with the neighbors that move in across from him mostly untouched. It is, also, a huge part of this book, but the slow build of it and the heartwarming ending is something I think is best experienced should you read this portion and decide to dive into this book yourself. It builds on a relationship that I, personally, haven't really seen in media yet (much let alone books, but maybe there are ones out there that I just haven't found yet.)

Honestly, just think Russel and Mr. Fredrickson, but...grown up and Russel is a pregnant lady. I know, I know- just trust me.

Throughout the course of this book, Ove rekindles old relationships, builds new ones, gets the neighborhood to view him differently than they once have, adopts a cat, and also lets a young man who gets kicked out by his father for being gay come and stay with him in his house. Every page had something else on it that either made me laugh, cry, or just flat out shake my head.

END SPOILER SECTION

According to my Storygraph I began this book on the 5th of January and finished it on the 21st. For someone who is currently stuck in a little bit of a reading rut I am counting 17 days to finish a book as a complete win.

For my first book of 2023 I found this one leaving me hopeful. Even though this was a bit of a heavier read for me to start my year it didn't leave me feeling sad. As someone who has recently experienced loss and my own intense struggles with depression and feeling misunderstood this hit right to the core. Sometimes, books don't fully affect me aside from an intense focus and lingering obsession with the world- but since this was grounded in reality and not fantasy it did hit me in a way I didn't fully expect. I truly loved it, though I can see why other's would not. The rest is up for you to decide.

#book review #booklr #a man called ove #a man called otto #bookandhook #review #bookaholic #book reviewer

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yanderart · 4 years

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Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

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Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo).

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You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset.

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut.

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold.

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them.

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight.

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves.

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night.

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year.

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder.

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment.

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough.

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted.

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand.

A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk.

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking, chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead.

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web.

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas.

How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps.

Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.

Government lies and why they matter.

Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl).

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum.

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter.

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question.

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior.

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen.

I just think it's amazingThe things you know

How you share them with everyone

The way you see through the lies

I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation.

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping.

I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too.

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded.

I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros.

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself.

I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out.

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything?

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either.

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing.

So you really are a n00b then.

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever.

And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game.

Be more like you, you left unsaid.

So am I your senpai then?

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback.

You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now.

Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind...

I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views.

A welcomed change in topics.

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you.

Well, yah. You make compelling arguments.

Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before.

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins.

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving.

I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath.

I can help you with that.

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit.

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point.

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you.

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust.

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second.

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well.

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him.

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises.

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap.

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path.

。。。。。

Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand.

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least.

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner.

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place.

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness.

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside.

Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you.

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever.

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well.

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant.

I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up.

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together.

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy.

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there.

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was.

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance.

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor.

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back.

。。。。。

The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame.

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest.

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently.

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.

Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time.

This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.

i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch.

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated.

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent.

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with.

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed.

and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement.

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in.

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.

Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against.

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves.

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

how the fck did u get that

I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as.

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

fucking delete that right now, man.

this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT.

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle.

And he was doing it all in your name.

Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to.

y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing.

They're a friend.

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone.

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments.

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way.

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.

Anything for you, [Y/N].

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture.

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips.

You truly looked angelic like that.

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after.

。。。。。

But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present.

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently.

Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods.

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start.

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you.

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you.

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived.

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

。。。。。

Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago.

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into.

Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face.

Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto.

Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I?

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation.

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating.

。。。。。

On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier.

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest.

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit.

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony.

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements.

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was.

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable.

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves).

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline.

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend.

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements.

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live.

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self.

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle.

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com.

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring.

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by.

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth.

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions.

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building.

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe.

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic.

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors.

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that.

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief.

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure.

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space.

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet.

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second.

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place.

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours.

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action.

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer.

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages.

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing.

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind.

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle.

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it.

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you.

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite.

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.

。。。。。

Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass.

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled.

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place?

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper.

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit.

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you.

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued.

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to.

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt.

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time.

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept.

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation.

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him.

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans.

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along.

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways.

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin.

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not.

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt.

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them.

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips.

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole.

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting.

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer.

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills.

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning.

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you.

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down.

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___;

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight 😠 👑

#bnha fanart #todoroki #yandere todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #mha fanart #bnha x reader #todoroki fanart #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime fanart #bnha smut #bnha art #artists on tumblr #just art tingz

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goldencherryhazz · 3 years

Text

Shower

A/n: just a short smutty piece for you with a shitty ending. And once again I could not think of a title. Notes would be much appreciated! Pls don’t copy my work!!

Warning: smut, shower sex, fluff, swearing

Soapy suds littered your soft skin, the warm water of the shower cascading down your body, trying to wash away all the grogginess from being on a 9 hour flight from LA back to London. You felt amazing, not only because of the warmth spreading throughout your body but the fact that you had just traveled the world with your boyfriend Harry, you got to watch him perform practically every single night in the most flamboyant outfits singing his absolute heart out.

It was the best decision you’ve made, you’d decided your job had been made remotely accessible so how could you say no, being Harry’s second solo tour he had to admit that he was nervous even though he had toured countless times before, it was just that Fine Line was so raw, the rawest he’s ever been, there were a lot of his emotions harboured into every song but most of all he was more afraid that people wouldn’t like it, but you had comforted him along the way, which he was so grateful for having you there with him, instead of talking and maintaining your relationship through a tiny screen.

Sometimes you would have to grab both of his cheeks when he was overthinking and a little panicky pacing up and down his dressing room before a show ‘do you hear yourself, you’re being silly, that album is so beautiful and you are so so beautiful H inside and out, as long as you are happy nobody can tell you your not successful’ or something along those lines. Your last sentence was memorised in his head from the moment you said it even mentioned it in his Zane Lowe interview, it just meant soo much and grounded him erasing all of his worries, because it was true, his passion always laid with music it was a release for him the and it truly did make him happy even at the worst of times.

You are distracted from your thoughts when you hear the bathroom door creak open and a not even moment later Harry was walking into the room a little out of breath, he instantly started stripping. You chuckled at him, he had told you to take a shower whilst he sorted all of your twos luggage, and you knew he had done it as quickly as possible so he could get in the showers with you, hence why he was out of breath.

‘What are you laughing at’ he said trying to get his leg out of his jeans.

‘You’ by now Harry had flung his boxers onto the floor along with all his other clothes, and you couldn’t lie that you looked him up and down, all in naked glory.

‘You know my parents taught me that staring is rude y/n’ you looked at him in slight shock not realising that you had been staring at him, but you quickly conceal it.

‘M’not staring’ you say innocently

‘Then what are you doing’

‘I’m admiring you’ he chuckled at your response.

He steps into the showers and under the water towering in front of you, ‘and do you like what you see baby?’

You hide your face into his chest at his question, you know he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear you say it. ‘Don’t hide away from me, gimme a kiss’ he lightly grips your chin so that you would look up at him your eyes instantly lock with his green ones.

You clasp your hands behind his neck tangling you fingers in his now wet curls, moving to catch his lips in yours the mint from the gum he chews and the remnants of his cologne on his skin invade your senses. He brings his hand to the side of your jaw stroking it with his thumb, his tongue swiping your bottom lip, you gladly grant him access.

You start to feel a nudge on your thigh and you don’t have to look to see what I was ‘someones a little exited’ he smiles into the kiss ‘not had a proper fuck in ages my love, wanna feel you’ it was true that you and Harry hadn’t been properly intimate since being on your. Yes, you had had sex but only quick fucks here and there, Harry being busy all the time and then when it was time to go back to wherever they were staying he was utterly exhausted, but who could blame him, being a singer is very tiring work. Having sex on tour had fully satisfied your exhibitionist kink though, having quick sex before a show trying to keep quiet whilst there were people working away outside and always the possibility of someone walking in, cause Harry had a thing for forgetting to lock the door it was as if he wanted that to happen, which to be fair would be something Harry would do being the little shit that he is, and now that you were at home it felt so different, you could moan as loud as you wanted without anyone hearing you, and you could fuck in any room of the house without a care in the world.

‘Hmm, want you in my mouth’ you say biting his top lip ‘I have another idea sweet girl, and it involves a showers head’ you moan at this already knowing where this was going. ‘Do you want me to make you cum with the shower head darling’

‘Yes please H’ you clit tingling in anticipation, he quickly grabs the retractable shower head off the holder and sits down on the little bench along the wall, then gesturing for you to come sit, which you do turning around you ass on full show to him, so he couldn’t help himself when he gave each of your cheeks a small slap making you let out a quiet yelp, he just loved the way your ass jiggled.

As soon as you are seated in his lap, with your back against his chest he brings an arms around your middle to secure you from slipping. He then brings the shower head between your legs, the sound when his fingers intricately changed the setting to jet made shivers run up your spine ‘you ready sweet girl’ and before you have time to answer he aims the strong jet of water onto your clit, making you almost clamp your legs shut at the suddenness, you moaned uncontrollably at the way he ran the water in small circles almost to replicate the way his fingers would rub circles on your clit when you were close to cumming. ‘Feels soo good H’ your legs threatening to clamp shit once again, which Harry notices and quickly shoves your legs to the outside of his so that when you tried to clamp them shut again his legs would be able to stop the action. When the water hits a particularly sensitive spot on your clit it makes your back arch against him, your head falling into the crook of his neck, where he presses we kisses to your jaw. ‘Like the water on your pussy, don’t you’ he moans into your ear, his cock slightly rutting again to slope of your back to try and relieve some of the pressure.

‘Fucking love it’ you say frantically already being so close to the edge. ‘Bet your going to cum for me soon, can feel how your tensing up, knuckles are white from grabbing the bench too darling, so just let go, no need to hold it cause if you think this is the only time your cumming tonight then you are oh so mistaken baby, gonna have you screaming for me so much the neighbours are gonna get sick of hearing my name’ your on the edge now, legs shaking slightly you just need another gentle nudge and you will collapse, and as if Harry can sense it, he hovers his mouth over your ear his hot breath making contact with your cool skin ‘go on baby, cum for me’ and with that you are cumming, your back arcing impossibly more so much you thought you were going to break it, you hole pulsating rapidly, struggled breaths make it past your lips. Harry circles the jet around you clit a few more times before it all becomes too much for you, already growing incredibly sensitive, you push his hand away and Harry gets the message, immediately turning the settings so he could place the shower head down without it spurting water all over the room.

‘How was that baby?’

‘Felt really good, but I really would like your cock inside of me now’ your forwardness making him rut his hips against you back once again. You had only just cum and you were very sensitive but all you wanted right now was to be filled to the brim with your boyfriends cock, and who was he to deny you. He lifts you off his lap so that you would stand up so that he could do the same,he places the shower back in the holder and then immediately pulls you in for another kiss as if he had been deprived even though it had probably only been 5 minutes, seconds later you back hits the wall, the cold tiles against your skin making you hiss but also become a lot more horny the fact that Harry would inevitably be fucking you against that wall in the next few minutes. His hand run ups and down your body, making sure to touch every square inch of you skin, his hand starts to go lower and lower until the tips of his fingers come into contact with you pussy, still slick from your juices he runs them through you folds, making you jerk against him, a chuckle emitting from his lips ‘steady on there love’. He then brings his hand up to his mouth sucking in his fingers, then kissing you even deeper than before making sure that you got a taste of yourself ‘always taste-soo-fucking-sweet my sweet girl’ he manages to get out between heavy kisses. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you trace shapes onto the back of his neck, the sensation making him feel all fuzzy and all the more desperate to be inside you ‘jump’ he utters. Immediately making you wrap your legs around his hips, and the second you do you slip slightly, a yelp emitting from you lips but Harry’s hands come under your thighs securing you in his grip ‘don’t worry, would never let you fall my love’

‘Hmm, why thankyou my handsome boy’ you say making him hide in your neck ‘shut up’ he protests.

‘Never’ you chuckle at him threading your fingers through this hair once again, the moment soon turns into one of lust again when he starts sucking a hickey onto your neck, kissing over your collarbones to. ‘Really wanna fuck you’ he moans his eyes searching for yours, and when they make contact you can tell just how desperate he is ‘well fuck me then’ and that’s all you have to say before Harry lines his throbbing cock up with your entrance, then sinking into you to the hilt in one long thrust. Both of your moans fill the room, the angle making his cock go soo deep that it felt as though he was nudging at your stomach. ‘Soo fucking tight’ he whimpers at the overwhelming feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

‘You can move, please move’ and he doesn’t have to be told twice, although he swore he could have cum from merely placing his cock inside you, he steadily starts thrusting into you finding a rhythm. You fingers tug at his hair, you think you must be hurting him but when he moans even louder at a particularly harsh tug you are reminded of Harry’s undeniable pain kink, and you swear you can feel a new pool of wetness forming at your hole. ‘Faster please Harry’ you whimper when you feel his cock pick up pace you throw your head back, making a thud when it came into contact with the wall. ‘Shit feels soo good sweet girl, swear I could be buried in you pretty little cunt forever, s’like you were made for me’ he moans out.

‘Just for you Harry’ you whimper getting him even more riled up and delivers a particularly hard thrust up into your pussy, making you quiver around him. ‘Like that don’t you baby, like it when I’m a little rough with you’

‘I do, love it soo muc- shit you feel so good, hitting my special spot every time’ the knot in your belly starting to tighten. ‘Gonna cum for me again angel’ he asks already knowing the answer, you could hear the smugness dripping from his voice.

‘Yeah, I’m clos-so close’ you whimper, when you say this he starts fucking you harder so that you would fall over the edge even quicker as he was pretty close aswell, staring into your eyes as he does, which you found hot just in itself. ‘Cant even speak properly can you, am I fucking you that good angel’

‘Cock’s f-filling me up soo good’ you whimper. The only sound resonating in the room now were moans and the slapping of skin, you couldn’t control the sounds coming from your mouth and neither could he.

‘Holy shit, I’m gonna cum’

‘Me too angel, want you to cum with me, yeah’ he reaches his hand around from one of your thighs to toy with your clit, knowing that’s all you would need. ‘I’m cumming, oh my god’ you shout your back arcing once again, Harry kept thrusting into you at the same pace only intensified your release, and seconds later you feel his cock twitch inside you one last time before he’s releasing rope after rope of cum inside your warm walls, his face finding home in the crook of your neck as your pulsating walls milk his cock, his moans being muffled in your warm skin.

You could feel you body slipping slightly down the tiles, you limbs felt like jelly after being fucked soo good, he senses that your struggling to keep yourself up so he brings you into his chest and wraps his arms around you, his cock still buried deep inside you. You bring you arms to wrap even tighter around his neck, pressing sweet kisses along his jawline making him hum contently, ‘was that okay baby’ he murmurs into your wet hair ‘more than okay H’.

You stay like this for a few minutes, basking in each others warmth’s, this is disturbed when Harry reaches to turn the shower off, shivers now run up your spine the air around you suddenly becoming chilly. You realise Harry still hadn’t gone soft within you making you look up at him in slight shock ‘how are you still hard H’ he smirks at your question ‘cause I’m not done with you yet, told you the neighbours are probably going to put in a noise complaint by tomorrow morning’ he says making you bit your lip.

‘Bet you would love that wouldn’t you, letting everyone know who you belong to’ he say walking out the shower with you still on him and grabbing a towel, he pulls out of you before you stand up properly still being a little unsteady, the mixture of his cum and your juices had dripped down onto your thigh so he doesn’t hesitate to drop to his knees to clean you up, making you grab onto the counter so you wouldn’t fall over, once he is done he stands back up innocently looking up at you then grabbing the towel and quickly drying you both off like he hadn’t just had his face buried between your legs.

‘So baby, when do you want to fuck next, there’s our bedroom but I think I wanna doing it in the dining room first, fancy having you bent over the dining table for me’ you both look at each other with lust blown eyes before you practically pounce on each other once again, Harry obviously taking that as a yes.

From that point on you realise that you wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight even after a 9 hour flight, but even then not a single care crosses your mind.

#shower #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles imagine #harrystylesisgolden #love harrystyles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #fine line #harry styles smut #harry styles smut imagine #boyfriend!harry #harry styles dirty one shot #harrystyles dirty #harry styles cute #harry styles hot #but daddy i love him #loveharry

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 24

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

June 1999

The air smells wet and woody, birdsongs trilling in the early morning sun that trickles through a sky light. She stretches, then disentangles her legs from the sheets and stands, walking to the window.

There is a giant soaking tub in the corner of the room, flanked by two windowed walls that afford a sweeping view of the Cascade mountains, green carpeted hillsides meeting with a baby-blue sky.

She can still recall her mother’s face when they told her the wedding would be in Washington State. “But...we don’t even know anyone in Washington, Dana,” she’d said with a bemused expression, lamenting the length of their flights with a nine-month-old in tow.

Her mother’s reaction paled in comparison to Mulder’s excitement when she’d suggested the idea; she would spend their honeymoon relaxing with a book in the tub, and he could spend it traipsing through the woods looking for Sasquatch, or ‘squatchin’ as he called it. They would reunite in the afternoon, hiking, making love, catching up on all the conversations they’d missed while in the trenches of parenting a new baby. Mom would stay at the same resort with Molly so they could see her every day, while having precious nights to themselves; something they haven’t done since she was born.

She turns the tap on the bath, a blast of water thundering into the empty basin. When it’s full nearly to the brim, she disrobes and eases in, breathing deeply to inhale the juniper-scented steam, courtesy of the resort-provided bath salts. Closing her eyes, she thinks back over it all; their chance meeting, how she was drawn to him by a force that seemed to be bigger than them both, the anguish of wanting him but feeling like she owed it to Ethan to stay together. Her eyes snap open, a memory long-buried in the recesses of her mind springing forth like a trebuchet.

The day she met Mulder, she’d been planning to take the day off to go to a book signing for an author she admires. The signing was cancelled due to a scheduling conflict and she almost took the day off anyway, but had a last minute pang of guilt knowing that the workload that week was already heavy and Trudy would struggle to manage it all on her own. So she’d gone in, she’d performed that autopsy that should have been on Trudy’s docket, and she’d filled out the paperwork, and she’d met Mulder. How delicate the balance of the universe that such an insignificant choice completely changed the course of her life.

She suddenly misses him acutely, and a bundle of nerves and excitement flutters in her belly thinking about when she’ll see him next. She’d scoffed at the idea of them spending last night apart; they live together and have a child so the performative chastity seemed to be a bit much. He said it was like a fast, that a little time apart would make it even more special when they saw each other at the ceremony, and she ultimately acquiesced.

“Meet me on a mountain top at 4 o’clock tomorrow?” he’d asked as he backed out of her room, pulling away from the desperate kisses she was planting all over his face.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied with a smile, and they said goodnight.

She smiles again, sinking down until the water slips into her ears. She can’t wait to marry him.

———

He sits up and arches his back, his spine protesting the cramped accommodations. Looking over at Byers and Missy curled up in the king size bed, he regrets his decision to crash on the couch here instead of staying with Scully in their room. Not only because he slept like shit with his legs hanging over the end, but also because work takes him away from his girls so often, he’s an idiot to add another day to it if he doesn’t have to.

He stands, hands on his hips as he twists to stretch his angry muscles, and walks to the window, taking in the dense green hills and valleys that surround them. He smiles, because she could have asked to go to Mexico, or France, or anywhere on the entire Earth and he would have given her what she wanted, but she chose the place she knew he wanted to go. Selfless and giving to a fault, his Scully. Soon to be his wife.

He quietly slips on his running shoes and sneaks out of the room, hitting the hard-packed dirt trail the concierge had told him about. The quiet forest is the perfect place to be alone with his thoughts, nothing but the thud of his feet striking the ground and the twitter of waking birds to distract him. He thinks about his life, about being a child who was lonely and alone, with parents who provided food and shelter but not much more. He thinks about Molly, and how she will never know that kind of pain, that there will never be a day of her life that she is not told how much she is loved. He wonders if his dad ever felt about his mom the way he feels about Scully, and he knows it’s not possible that he did, because if so they would still be together.

He comes to a break in the trees and pauses, breath heaving and lungs burning as he watches a hawk gliding through the valley below, hunting for breakfast. How easily he could have missed this moment, he thinks. Even one small change to the trajectory of his life, and he never would have walked into the autopsy bay that day. If the courier hadn’t been sick, if he hadn’t stopped by Kirkbride’s office when he did. Even further back, if he hadn’t stayed with the bureau with the X files were closed, if Valerie hadn’t been there to encourage him, or if he hadn’t met Valerie one random Tuesday at a record store. The path was long and winding, and it led to her. It led to him on this mountaintop in a sweat-soaked T-shirt, smiling at the thought of his baby daughter, his almost-wife.

He picks up running again, the smile staying on his lips. He’s always felt like he was running away; from his painful past, his regrets, his bad decisions. Now he realizes he’s running towards; his future, a thousand opportunities yet unseen, a kind of happiness he never thought he’d know. He can’t wait for the rest of his life to start.

———

He stands in a clearing near the edge of a cliff, the lush green landscape toeing up against the horizon looking like crooked teeth. Frohike stands beside him in khaki pants and a white linen shirt, a leather folio clasped in his hands. Mulder is also dressed fairly casually, in slacks and a blue Oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed and the top button undone.

Scully wanted this to be as non-traditional as possible, to make it their own. There is no wedding party, no tuxedo, no flower girl or garter toss. No one will walk her down the aisle, as no one but herself has the ownership to give her away. The guests are small in number; immediate family only, plus the gunmen. Monica and Dahlia are house-sitting back in DC, minding Priscilla as well as the dog, King, that joined the family after the purchase of their house in March. Bucking the idea of arranging guests by whose “side” they are on, they all sit in a small cluster, and Scully will enter from the side.

He looks out and waves at Molly, who is standing on Missy’s lap, holding her hands and bouncing up and down forcefully. She squeals and shouts “dah, dah, dah!” which he chooses to interpret as “Daddy” even though Scully told him it’s just a nonsense syllable and doesn’t mean anything.

Langly gets the signal from Frohike and hits play on a small boom box, piping an instrumental version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” up into the branches of the towering evergreen trees. He expected to feel nervous at this moment, but all he feels is excitement as Maggie scurries out from behind a line of trees and takes her place beside Bill, giving him a smile and a wink.

Scully appears from around the same group of trees and he grins broadly. He’s seen the dress, they picked it out together, but the full effect is stunning. Her hair, now grown well past her shoulder blades, is curled softly and pinned half up, brilliant red tendrils shimmering in the midday sun against her porcelain shoulders. Her dress is full length pearl satin, a slim sheath cut with off the shoulder straps. She is holding a small bouquet of pink peonies in her hands, and holding his eye with a playful smirk.

She arrives beside him and before the music stops, before Frohike has a chance to begin, he steps forward and takes her by the waist, kissing her fully. The guests laugh and he pulls away to see a confused smile on her face.

“I couldn’t wait,” he says simply.

They move through the ceremony, exchanging rings and vowing to love each other forever; promises they’ve already made to each other a hundred times. As they near the part that Scully understands to be the end, Frohike goes off script.

“Mulder has prepared some words of his own, he’ll read them now,” he says, nodding toward his friend.

Scully’s eyebrows lift in a surprised and confused expression.

“Mulder, we didn’t talk about writing our own vows,” she whispers, afraid she’s failed to complete the assignment.

“It’s okay, these are for both of us,” he whispers, and then, taking her hands in his, he reads a passage from her favorite book from memory.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love; I have found you. You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely. A fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

The tear that slips down her cheek is borne only of happiness. She looks into his green eyes and sees contentment and love, and desire. It’s not a spark, what they have, nor an ember. It’s a wildfire, a white-hot torch, an eternal flame that binds them together inseparably. They were forged in fire the moment he laid eyes on her in that autopsy bay, maybe even before.

Frohike concludes, “by the power invested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride…again.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up as he kisses her deeply, a gust of warm summer wind picking up pine needles and tossing them in a mini-tornado that surrounds them both. Molly squeals “dah dah dah!” and claps for her parents.

———

She stands at the mirror, brushing her teeth. Her hair is combed out, her makeup removed, the white dress hanging in the corner of the room with the hem now tinged brown from the dirt that served as their dance floor.

Mulder appears behind her, an arm snaking around the waist of her satin nightgown. She smiles at the sight of his newly ring-adorned hand pressed flat against her belly, then leans forward to rinse.

“Ready for bed?” he asks softly, and she nods.

They slip beneath the cool sheets, curling around one another face-to-face; her leg threaded between his, his arms around her back, foreheads touching. She draws in a big breath and lets it out slowly, contentment settling deep in her bones.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen in exactly the way they did to lead us here?” he asks, and she pulls back a little to look at his face.

“Yes, I was actually just thinking about that earlier,” she says with a curious lilt.

“Makes you wonder, huh, what lives we’d be leading if even just one detail were changed,” he says, tracing his finger along her shoulder blade.

“I don’t think it would have mattered, actually,” she says, and he gives her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate. “I know this will sound a little far-fetched coming from me,” she begins with a self-conscious smile, “but I think it was always going to end up this way. Even if we hadn’t met when we did, we would have crossed paths some other way. Looking back over everything, it just seems like this was meant to be the outcome, even if the path to get here could have gone in a lot of different directions.”

He ponders this, remembering a conversation they had over coffee when, against all odds, she reappeared in his life.

“Like there was only one choice, and signs along the way to pay attention to,” he says contemplatively, lifting his hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Exactly,” she replies, pressing her lips to his briefly, “it was always going to be you.”

END

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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oneprompt · 3 years

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If I may, I'd like to make a request please. I was thinking something where Luffy and Reader find an abandoned puppy on the island they're docked on. Her and Luffy both wanna keep it, even beg to keep it, but Nami tells them no, so they spend the whole day looking for someone to take care of it before they have to leave. I thought it'd be cute. <3

authors note : what a cute idea ! i hope this may suffice <3 enjoy to the fullest , i hope i served your vision justice ;; my apologies if this isn’t too good , im incredibly sleepy

Luffy x Fem! Reader , Finding a Puppy Drabble

You couldn’t hold back the frown that stuck itself on your face. Being denied by Nami so many times meant serious business, you couldn’t even bribe her..!

“We can’t have a puppy, Y/n, Luffy! We already have Chopper.. a puppy is too much.” You could recall her exact words that made a sigh exit your body, one that was full of disappointment. You and Luffy had been given the task of finding the puppy a new home before sunset, which would be when you all left the sanctuary of the island the Merry was currently docked at.

“Y/n, do you think they want the puppy?” Luffy cheered excitedly as he pointed at a couple. You watched as they looked at the two of you before their eyes darted away, the pair speed walking away.

Being wanted pirates made this task so hard.. People just kept looking at you two as if you were crazy. Was it that odd to see two pirates trying to find a puppy a home? You had no clue. You truly saw nothing wrong with such a kind act.

“Not from us, they don’t.” Your frown deepened as the clock creeped closer to the departure time. You couldn’t just leave this puppy to be alone, to possibly perish. It deserved a home, regardless of the fact it was being assisted by pirates.

“Oi, don’t be so sad, Y/n!” Luffy slapped a hand onto your back before letting it stay in place, resting upon your back. “We’ll find him a home... we’ll get him the best home ever!” The young man snickered with joy, grinning at you.

You couldn’t help but smile, the corners of your lips tugging upwards as you nodded. “Mhm, we will.” You giggled at the sight of Luffy’s oversized smile. He was so kind hearted, so warm... You loved that about him.

It was the same rinse and repeat as you two wandered the town, trying your very best to find somebody to take in the poor little animal. But still, no one did. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge if guilt spark up within your heart. If only the Marines had found this puppy, they would’ve found people willing to accept it much faster then pirates could.

You and Luffy took a break from walking to sit along the marble fountain that was present in the middle of the small town. Wel, you needed a break. Luffy could run around for hours easy, he was a pure ball of energy, or more so chaos. You lent against Luffy, the puppy curled up in the safety of your lap.

It had been an hour or so by now, and time was not getting any slower. Not at all. Sure, you two could just leave it loose but that wasn’t safe at all, and you knew that.

You jumped at the sudden barking that came from the tiny dog. What was upsetting it to such an extent? You looked around only to be met face to face by a young girl. Was she interested?

“Onee-san,” The little girl said before laying her head on your lap to get closer to the baby dog. You blushed nervously as Luffy laughed loudly. This kid... how did she have no shame doing such a thing?

“Um- yes..?” You said, looking down at the child that cradled it’s head in your lap. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, you were never too good with kids.

“Is this puppy yours?” She asked softly, curiosity filling her vocals to the brim. In response, you merely shook your head. You noticed the way the girls eyes widened in excitement.

You smiled lightly. Had you and Luffy finally found someone to help the dog?

“Do you think your parents would mind if you came home with it?” You asked the girl.

“Not at all..! Papa would love a dog!” With that line, you couldn’t be so sure if the child’s father would approve. But regardless, you would hand the puppy to her, not like you had much time to find another willing person.

You picked up the dog carefully, being as delicate as possible, almost like the puppy was made of porcelain. “There you go,” You hummed with a smile as the child stood before you. “Take good care of him for us, okay?”

“And feed him lots of meat!” Luffy chimed in, “he loves it!” You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his comments. You smiled warmly at the young girl as she giggled at Luffy as well. How cute.

“I will, mister and misses straw hat!” The girl beamed innocently, having zero disregard for the red that overpowered your face, making you burn up with pure embarrassment.

Did she really believe the two of you were married? Did- did every citizen perceive you and Luffy as a married couple? Or just even a normal couple?

You shuddered at the thought of what that love struck empress would do to you if she had just heard that... but you couldn’t be bothered right now. No, not that easily.

“Bye! Feed him looooots, kid!” Luffy yelled at the girl as she walked away, holding the puppy in her arms. “And i mean it! He needs lots of meat!”

You looked at Luffy and sighed, smiling to yourself. He really didn’t register what she had called you two, did he?

You raised to your feet, brushing off the skirt you wore, feeling the evening breeze flush over your exposed legs.

“Luffy, we should return to the sunny. Nami is probably getting sick of waiting,” You said, looking down at him as the sky turned pastel behind you, shifting shades of orange and purples.

“Right! Let’s go, miss Straw Hat!” Luffy got up, linking arms with you.

“Huh?” Your eyes widened as he said that, your face going beet red once more, almost as red as Luffy’s voice.

What was he going on about...?

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece reader inserts #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece imagines #imagines #imagine #fluff #cute #fanfic

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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years

Text

City of Love – Ch. 10

Luka and Marinette help Sass and Tikki clear the air between them.

Read on Ao3

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“Okay, now I see what you mean about the fidgeting,” Luka said, laughing, as Sass tucked the stray strands of his ponytail behind his ears for what seemed like the thousandth time. Sass glared at him and resolutely shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

They were leaning against the windows in front of Marinette’s parents’ bakery and waiting for her okay to come in. They’d been waiting almost an hour now, which explained Sass’s discomfort. The longer the wait, the more chance he had to think about all the different ways this could go wrong.

Luka leaned his head back and closed his eyes so he could focus on the patterns the clouds made as they blocked out the sun, counting the shadows off like measures in his head. It made for an interesting time signature. Sort of a lazy waltz, but with bursts of cut time. He started tapping it out on his thigh, trying to hear the notes that went along with it. Something warm and playful, if a little dark.

Sass’s elbow in his ribs made him aware he’d started humming out loud.

“Cut it out or write it down,” Sass muttered irritably.

“Too bad for you, nothing to write it down on.”

“What is it, anyways? Another of Marinette’s?” At the mention of Marinette, a grin broke across Luka’s face before he could help it. Sass rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really get a chance to ask, but I’m assuming it went okay for you two last night?”

“Do you really want to know or are you actually being nice for once?”

“You know what? Don’t tell me. It’s bad enough that Tikki’s pissed at me, I don’t need to be tortured by your, quite frankly, disgusting happiness on top of it.” Despite his harsh tone, the upwards twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Luka closed his eyes again, still smiling, and let the wave of warmth wash over him. He was happy. Genuinely, truly, happy. He had music flowing through him again. It wasn’t just Marinette now, it was everywhere he looked, everything he felt. He could write symphonies of bells ringing and rock ballads of pigeons flying and anthems of tires on cobblestone. Like he was in love with all of Paris, or all of Paris was as in love as he was, or—

His phone chimed and they both straightened to attention. They shared a sideways glance before Luka read the text on his screen. With a curt nod to Sass, Luka shoved off the wall and led the way into the bakery.

***

“They’re coming in now,” Marinette said. Tikki nodded around the cookie she was nibbling at on the couch in her parents’ living room, her eyes far away. It had taken a lot to get her to calm down and tell the entire story from start to finish, but once she had, it was understandable she’d been a little spooked. Sass had been hiding a lot from everyone, it seemed. She wondered if Luka had known anything about it.

She heard her dad downstairs and her eyes went wide. She hadn’t thought about—Oh, poor Luka. Her face fell into her hands. She loved her dad, she really did, but he had a tendency to get carried away and two minutes into knowing she was dating Luka he’d already be dreaming of their wedding cake which—wait.

A dopey grin split her face when she remembered. Technically, he had already proposed. Technically she had—for the most part—accepted. Which meant technically… her dad could go ahead and dream about their cake, and gush about their wedding, and be as happy for them as he wanted to be.

When Luka opened the door to her parents’ living room, his grin was matching hers. She wanted so badly to run to him and squeal and jump in his arms the same way Tikki had when she first met Sass. But as she thought of Tikki, her smile faltered, and she turned back to her distressed friend right as Sass walked in behind Luka. Tikki froze and blinked as if she didn’t understand something. Then she turned those wide blue eyes on Marinette, and then slowly looked over at Luka before finally settling on Sass.

“Why did Luka propose last night?” she asked in a small, clear voice, which seemed to take the entire room aback. But the haze of tears and confusion was leaving Tikki; she was focused for the first time that morning, shifting on the seat next to Marinette to stand.

Sass looked sheepish and he didn’t quite meet her gaze. Tikki drew herself up to her full height—which wasn’t much, but still managed to be imposing—and stared him down.

“Where did he get the ring? And why did he buy a ring? Come to think of it, why did he even think it'd be a good idea? She ran away!”

Marinette flinched and Tikki turned to wince apologetically. But she was intent on her goal. Sass was shifting from one foot to another, trying to look anywhere but at Tikki.

“You owe me an answer,” she said, softer this time, but still with a gentle authority. There was a tense pause in the room as everyone seemed to hold their breath.

“You’re right, I do,” Sass finally said with a sigh. “I was the one buying a ring. Luka came with me and while we were there, I convinced him to buy one, too. I thought it might be a good idea, considering…” He gestured between the two of them and Marinette blushed as she hid her shy smile. Luka raked his hair over his ears self-consciously.

But it was Tikki that registered his words and sat back down on the couch, covering her heart with her hand, her eyes blown wide again and all the color drained out of her face. Sass moved to her side instantly and dropped to his knee.

“This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you,” he started, “I wanted to show you all of Paris, take you on a boat tour, wait until the Eiffel Tower was lit up, before I told you…” He took a deep, shaky breath in and let it out before he took Tikki’s trembling hand in his. “There are so many things that I’m not sure of. Now more than ever, but the one thing I’ve always known, as soon as we started talking, was that you would be someone special to me. I’ve known for months now that I had to somehow find a way to meet you. And I’ve known that there’s no one I’d rather be here or anywhere else with.”

Luka’s eyes locked on Marinette’s and he gave her a soft smile that she couldn’t help but return. She hadn’t moved since Sass had gotten down on one knee, and neither had Tikki. Her eyes were glued on Sass’s and starting to brim with tears again, but at least this time they seemed happy.

“Tikki,” Sass continued, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand, “you’re the light of my life. I wanted to ask if you would do me the absolute honor of—”

“Stop,” Tikki whispered.

Sass hissed in a breath as he clamped his mouth shut. His shoulders drooped and he went to pull away from her and let go of her hand, but Tikki held onto him tightly. He glanced between their hands and Tikki’s face before settling back into place to wait to hear what she had to say, his eyes full of dejected hope.

“You can’t just…” Tikki tried to continue, but she was overwhelmed. Marinette laid a gentle hand on her shoulder to encourage her. She seemed to find some strength from it and cleared her throat to continue. “You can’t just ask me to run away with you like this. It’s involving me in—and I can’t…”

Sass nodded as if he understood, but she still wasn’t letting go of his hand. Tikki took a slow, deep breath.

“I want to be with you. I… I love you.” The tears that were threatening before spilled over. It seemed to pain Sass that he couldn’t reach up and wipe them away. “But you’ve kept so much from me, I just…”

“To protect you,” Sass interjected softly. “The less you knew—”

“Don’t.” Tikki almost sobbed the word and Marinette’s hand tightened on her shoulder. Sass looked like he’d been slapped. “Just don’t.”

Sass nodded and dropped his eyes to their hands. She was still clinging to him like she was afraid to let go, her knuckles white against his dark skin.

“Is there any way I can make it up to you?” he asked, so quietly that Marinette almost didn’t hear him. There was a tense pause as everyone waited for Tikki’s response. She sniffled and wiped her tears off her cheeks before she nodded resolutely.

“There is. I want to meet your parents.”

Sass’s head popped up, his eyes blown wide, the horror of her suggestion drawn across his face. Tikki nodded again.

“I want to meet your parents. And I want you to tell them the truth about us and ask for their permission to marry me.”

“But… Tikki, I don’t think you understand—”

"You asked if there was anything you could do. And this is it." There was a hard edge to Tikki's voice that surprised Marinette, but when Sass's expression didn't change, her tense posture softened. "I don't want to live a lie for the rest of my life."

Sass finally managed to close his mouth and nod, dropping his eyes to their hands again, but he stood and let her hands slip out of his to start pacing restlessly. Tikki sat back on the couch and folded her hands in her lap, watching him. Luka stepped up and pulled Sass aside by his elbow and the two of them spoke in hushed tones with their heads together. Marinette shared an anxious glance with Tikki.

“Are you sure about this?” Marinette asked, keeping her voice low. “If he ran away in the first place, then maybe it’s not a great idea to go back.”

"I'm sure," Tikki whispered back. "I can't be the reason he never sees his family again and besides…"

She trailed off as she watched Sass and Luka, their argument becoming more heated as Sass apparently resisted Luka’s advice and Luka started to get frustrated with him. There was something more to this, Marinette could tell, and Sass had confided in Luka. But Luka didn't seem like the type to keep secrets…

Just then, Luka's eyes flicked up to hers and he gave her a tired smile before renewing his argument.

"I just…" Tikki started to continue, bringing Marinette back to their current predicament, "I want to be with him." She finished simply, wiping at her cheeks again. "And if his parents can't see that, then I'll know he made the right choice."

Before Marinette could consider that, Sass sighed in defeat and Luka clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly before he steered Sass back over to them. He seemed at the same time like he was rooted to the spot and also wanted to run away as fast as he could.

Luka squeezed his shoulders before gravitating to Marinette’s side. He laced his fingers through hers and held her tightly but she wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or from a need to be close to her. Either way, she looped her arm through his and leaned into him.

"There's… something else," Sass said to Tikki, glancing nervously at Luka. Luka nodded back to encourage him and he mimed taking a breath. Sass took the cue from Luka before meeting Tikki's patient gaze again. "The reason I ran away. I don't… really know how to tell you this, but…"

Another quick glance at Luka had Tikki shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

"I'm already… engaged. Back home." The words seemed to fall from Sass's mouth like stones to the floor. A silence followed his announcement, but he pressed on. "It's all arranged, I've never met her or anything, it's just my parents—they didn't know, Tikki, and if I go back—it's all set up already. They'll lose face and I—" He sucked in a breath at the look on Tikki's face. Shocked wasn't even the word; Tikki was absolutely astonished. Marinette had clutched Luka's arm without realizing it.

"I ran away to be with you. If I go back, I don't know what will happen."

Tikki swallowed and shifted on the couch again. "Is there anything else?" she asked, barely above a whisper, "Anything else I should know?"

Sass shook his head. "That's it. That's everything. I swear."

“Okay,” Tikki said, although not even Marinette could tell what she meant. That faraway look was back in her eyes when she turned to find Marinette. She glanced between her and Luka, how they were leaning on each other, their joined hands, before looking back at Sass. “I… need some time. To think,” she continued softly.

Sass nodded and swallowed visibly. He started to lean down, aiming to press a kiss to her cheek, but stopped himself and pulled away awkwardly. Luka squeezed Marinette’s hand and pulled away as well, reluctantly, letting their fingers slip past each other one by one, before he walked over to Sass and started to usher him out the door.

He turned back and caught Marinette's eyes before the door closed, smiling apologetically, and blew her a kiss before they were both gone again.

Tikki reached out a hand blindly for Marinette and she took it as she sat down again. Tikki’s eyes bounced around the living room, not landing on anything, really, just taking everything in. It almost seemed like she was imagining all of Paris within the four walls. Marinette squeezed her hand, but it was completely limp.

When Tikki’s eyes finally settled back on Marinette’s, she sighed and squeezed back. Marinette gave her a sympathetic smile and shifted to put her arm around Tikki’s shoulders.

“How about a sleepover?” Marinette asked gently. “My old room, a blanket fort, some chocolate chip cookies? Sound good?”

When Tikki nodded and brightened despite herself at the mention of cookies, Marinette took the opportunity to stand, pulling Tikki with her and ushering her towards the stairs that led to her childhood bedroom.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #lukanette #Pro LukaMari #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #LBSC Exchange 2021 #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #luka and sass #marinette and tikki #human kwami #fic title: city of love

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

#customer centric (4)

#corporate masterlist summary: you arrive in tokyo and spend a few days catching up and reminiscing. jin comes as well, with a few old friends that you haven’t seen in years. Or, you wander around the city visiting familiar places and go to a club with people you haven’t called friends in years. word count: 8656 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, lots of alcohol a/n: this is part 1/2 of being in tokyo!! this is the top i envisioned for oc lol

You missed Tokyo, and Tokyo missed you. The city itself brings bittersweet memories to you, memories of your childhood with your dead father and grandmother passing through your mind as if you’re watching a movie.

Your dad had brought you to Tokyo every summer when you were young, until you were about seventeen or eighteen. Tokyo had become more of a second home than a vacation place for you. You haven’t been here since college, about two years before your dad passed away. But despite that, it feels like home.

You can read, write, and speak Japanese fluently, which is part of the reason why you’ve been such an integral part of the team so far. The company’s sister branch is in Tokyo, and it’s not your first time visiting the branch, or interacting with your team members based in Tokyo.

You’ve wondered often, quite bitterly, if your fluency in Japanese is the only reason you’re even still on the team. Your boss and his boss at least trust you enough to be the responsible party for your team- there’s only one other member of your team here, Sana. But she’s relatively new, so the responsibility has fallen onto you.

That’s alright. You operate well under pressure.

You’re joined by your small knit team, Sana, Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon had managed to finagle with the budget enough that you could arrive a day early, on Friday, and spend the weekend in Tokyo before the workshops began on Monday.

And Seokjin would be flying in on Saturday morning with some of his friends. You’re grateful that at least Jin was coming. Whenever Jin makes these spontaneous types of trips, they’re bound to be eventful.

Monday and Tuesday will be filled with workshops, proposals and pitch meetings. You made Jin promise that he’d spend time with you during the weekend, so that you could show him some of the treasures you remembered from the city. Despite your many years of friendship, you had never been to Tokyo with Jin and you want to show him some of the places Appa used to take you to.

You’re excited. Even if Jungkook, with his big, sparkling eyes and his natural curiosity is coming along. Seeing him, even though it’s been well over three months that he joined the company, sends you down a dangerous path that isn’t fair to him or to you.

You have to constantly remind yourself that it’s not his fault and you shouldn’t be mean to him. It’s not his fault that your boss and his boss are out for your blood and refuse to give you recognition. But you can’t help but feel like he’s part of the problem that has faced you for the last three years. Part of the same awful old school, conservative mindset that so many of your peers were part of as well.

The leadership at your company needed a drastic overhaul, but you would be the last person to voice those thoughts out loud. Unless it was to Jin.

You know Jungkook doesn’t deserve your unspoken rage. You can admit that, but you’re not saint enough to channel it somewhere else. You’ve mellowed out considerably from the initial few months, but you could stand to be a little warmer to him.

After all, the way his bunny smile takes up half of his face when he offers it up to someone so worthy… that means nothing to you.

You arrive in Tokyo with your team at around eleven AM, and you check into your hotel rooms about an hour later. Jungkook and Sana had planned the logistics of the trip, from the hotel to the taxi service to lunch, dinner, and the company sponsored happy hour on Monday and Tuesday.

Because you were in Tokyo for work, you fully planned on using your company card to the fullest for the next few days. This company could kiss your ass, and you would be more than willing to spend as much as you needed to as a subtle ‘fuck you’. It was your version of flipping off your boss, for when he would have to approve your expense report sheet.

Namjoon had given you Friday to yourselves, to get acquainted with the hotel room and the area itself. Sana and Jungkook had done a good job with choosing the hotel- it has a wonderful view of the city from the rooftop, and being inside the sophisticated hotel with it’s hues of black and white and pops of color and elegance. This regal building screams opulence and you’re bathing in the luxurious feel of it all.

The diamonds of the chandeliers hanging high above you glint in the dim light of the lobby, bouncing off of the sleek, black piano and adding to the romantic air. Was this a love hotel? You scoff to yourself, keeping your head down as you exit the hotel and head in the direction of your favorite park, the Happo-en Garden.

When you had told your therapist that you’d be coming to Tokyo for the first time since your father’s death, she had immediately picked up on your hesitation-

“It feels weird to be there without him. Almost like the place doesn’t exist if he doesn’t,” You scoff, wringing your hands together.

“It certainly exists without him. And you do, too,” She says kindly, “Maybe you’ll feel close to him when you go there.”

And she was right, as she usually is. You sit alone at a freshly painted red bench with a box of street snacks, including some of Appa’s favorites. The sunshine glimmers against the still lake in front of you, hues of green fading to orange and red reflecting in the murky water.

This park was a favorite of Appa’s-

“We’re still in Tokyo, but it feels like we’re so far away. Right, sweetheart?” He asks, dark eyes shining. Appa’s hand tightens around yours and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah! Like we’re close to the princess’s castle!” You gasp.

“That’s right, but the only princess I see here is you,” Appa smiles and you beam at him, all smiles and sunshine.

The memory is from when you were maybe seven or eight years old. Everytime you came to Tokyo with Appa, you always came to this park. Specifically to this area, where Appa claimed that the sun shined on the leaves and the water in a specific way that made everything feel like magic.

You had always scoffed at him, especially as you grew older and the lines around his eyes grew deeper. But you still entertained him. You never saw that magic that Appa claimed to see, but now, you wonder how you could ever not see it.

A breeze ruffles through the trees, whistling as it threads through your hair and running over the water. The clouds part for a moment, allows a burst of sunbeams to spread over the water and you gasp at the sudden golden filter over the surroundings in front of you.

Another breeze, one from your left side, presses against your shoulder and your cheek. Almost like it’s whispering to you. You whip your head to the side, only to find nothing next to you. You feel like you’re floating, with the gentle caress of the wind to keep you company.

You eat your snacks in silence, embracing the way that it feels like the wind is Appa’s caress against your skin.

By the time you return to the hotel, the sun is beginning to go down and a bittersweet sort of happiness settles in your heart. You feel closer to your dad than you have in a long time- this city was bound to feel like home with its welcoming arms curling around you warmly. You had spent the better part of the day visiting old sights and places that you had frequented to with Appa.

It was peaceful, like a walk down memory lane. You could almost see your younger self bursting at the seams with joy at all of the new places. You could almost see her so eager to learn and demanding that Appa teach you Japanese immediately.

You wonder where that girl went. She’s lost, buried beneath layers and layers and maybe someday you’ll find her again.

Stopping by one of your favorite restaurants, you order all of your favorites times three. For your colleagues to have something to feast on when you returned from your day trip. You hadn’t been on your phone for most of the day, choosing to mute the group chat with your colleagues so you could truly be alone.

Once you approach the familiar blue neon sign of the restaurant, you send them a text:

you: evening all. dont worry about dinner, Im bringing lots of food back sana: look who woke up from her coma namjoon: did you put it on your card? you: of course i did. you dont have to remind me joon ;) you: want to have dinner together? jungkook: ya where should we eat Namjoon: come to my room, it’s room 1804 you: ok, be there in about thirty min

With your heart feeling full, brimming with fondness for your teammates, you pay for the heavy bags of food and make your way back to the hotel. You can’t help but smile as you walk with a little pep in your step.

“You should have asked one of us to help you,” Jungkook says reproachfully, taking half the bags from you.

Your arms ache, not that you’ll admit your stubbornness. You only smile sheepishly, “It was only a fifteen minute walk.”

“And this is a lot of food,” Jungkook muses, peeking inside as his doe eyes sparkle in anticipation.

“It’s our first team dinner in Tokyo. We deserve it,” You shrug.

“I also bought a few bottles of wine,” Sana chirps, dangling two bottles of red in her hands, “We deserve it.”

You laugh and she winks at you. Namjoon is already setting up the many boxes of food on the mahogany wooden desk in the corner of the room. The curtains are pulled back, affording you of a breathtaking view of the city lights and the now hanging moon high in the sky.

“The boss has the best view, huh?” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

“Jungkook picked it,” Namjoon shrugs, “I just wanted to share the view with you all.”

“How sweet of you,” You say sincerely, “Dinner with a view. That’s pretty romantic. And Jungkook has good taste.”

Jungkook’s ears flush at your praise and he covers his ears for a second. Not that you notice. You sit on the floor, across from Jungkook and offer to scoop food onto everyone’s plates for them. You ignore their protests and do it anyway, quietly asking how much of each they want. Sana fills up plastic cups with wine and labels everyone’s cup with a black marker so you can all keep track of them.

“How classy of us,” Namjoon snorts but says thank you to Sana.

“Did you bring wine glasses in your luggage?” Sana shoots at Namjoon, “I didn’t think so.”

You stifle your laugh behind your hand and shake your head. “Feels like college, if only those cups were red,” You joke.

“My roommate still uses red cups sometimes, for casual purposes,” Jungkook says softly, “It drives me up the wall. Like, can you drink out of a normal cup or what? I get flashbacks to beer pong almost every morning.”

You laugh a little harder at that, and the sound is sweet in Jungkook’s ears. He wants to see if he can get you to laugh like that a little more.

“I mean, we’re grown now. I can’t believe Taehyung sometimes, having his morning orange juice in a red solo cup. It’s heinous.”

Your eyes are overflowing with mirth, the sound of your genuine happiness echoing in Jungkook’s ears and he can’t help but smile in return.

“Morning orange juice,” You mutter, “That’s adorable. Taehyung? That’s the name of your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, “We did undergrad together and he’s an aspiring art gallery curator. He’s actually coming here tomorrow-”

“Wait, hang on,” You say after chewing through a mouthful of noodles, “Is this Taehyung, as in Kim Taehyung who you snuck into that bar with and he ended up getting absolutely hammered and stealing three bottles of alcohol? Before getting kicked out and Jin and I took you both home? That Taehyung?”

The fondness with which you speak of Taehyung unnerves Jungkook.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, “That Taehyung.”

“Sounds like a real class act,” Sana says dryly.

“Wow, I haven’t seen him in years,” You exhale, “I think Jin’s bringing some friends from college tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, he mentioned a Jimin and a Hoseok,” Namjoon adds.

“Damn, Sana, maybe we should’ve brought our friends, too,” You murmur, teasing but honestly, you don’t really have anyone you would’ve asked to bring, “Can’t wait to see what this boys weekend brings.”

You fully anticipate that Seokjin will rope you into whatever shenanigans they have planned, and you don’t even feel bad about crashing. You make a mental note to let Sana know of whatever plans they invited you to, so that she wouldn’t feel left out.

They don’t ask where you were all day, and for that you’re grateful. The lines of professionalism are beginning to blur for you, and you don’t want to burden them with your feelings and problems. You don’t want them to think differently of you for trying to catch a glimpse of Appa in your memories.

Jin would say you were being silly, but you can’t help it. Maybe someday, but not today.

But Jungkook does wonder. Where were you all day? When the group chat was going off, you were silent. It was none of his business, but he’s curious. And he’s curious about you. You hadn’t changed out of your day clothes or taken your makeup off. He can see the nearly gone darkened stain of your gloss on your lips and the curl of your lashes. Jungkook keeps his eyes above your neck, knowing that if his eyes begin to wander he would be even more of a goner than he already was.

It’s September in Tokyo, meaning that it was warm during the day and somewhat chilly in the evenings. Your dark green long sleeved shirt is tucked into your shorts, complete with a black belt, leaving your tanned thighs on display. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from your shorts, but he thinks he imagines it.

Until your shorts ride up just a little and he sees an array of colors and the fleeting sight of a flower on your upper thigh. Jungkook swallows nervously and stuffs his face full of udon noodles without hesitation. If his mouth is stuffed with food, then nobody will look twice at him and he can keep his thoughts to himself and ogle at you in peace.

The logic makes sense in his head.

Your voice carries over to Namjoon, telling him that you’ll be picking Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok up in the morning with the rental car.

“Hey, if Taehyung is arriving at the same time, do you want me to pick him up?” You ask, turning your gaze to Jungkook.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks. You roll your eyes.

“Taehyung. If he arrives at the same time as Jin, Jimin and Hoseok, do you want me to pick him up?”

“Er,” Jungkook says eloquently, “He’s actually been here for the last week. Thanks, though.”

You want to say that Jin would cause a scene and whine at you if you didn’t pick him up from the airport, the prince that he is. But you keep it to yourself- after all, he’s somewhat of a boss to Jungkook and Sana.

You nod in understanding and shove more noodles and meat into your mouth. You stretch your legs out in front of you and Jungkook doesn’t look away, instead allowing his eyes to rake over you shamelessly. Nevermind that Namjoon and Sana are right next to him, probably wondering why he’s staring you down so intensely.

The four of you spend the rest of the evening discussing your plans for the weekend, avoiding the topic of work altogether. It’s nice, you can almost believe that you’re all just four friends making a weekend getaway without the confines of work looming over your heads.

Namjoon offers to split the remaining food amongst the four of you and puts equal amounts of everything into each container for all of you to take back to your rooms.

And then Sana pours more wine for each of you and you feel yourself beginning to get more and more relaxed with each sip you take. You want to open your stitched together lips, tell them how it’s been so long since you’ve had alcohol with anyone who wasn’t Jin. You want to tell them that you like red wine more than white wine, but nothing beats soju-

“What’s your favorite kind of wine,” Jungkook asks. He comes to sit next to you on the floor, stretching his legs out. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel something like electricity at the soft touch.

“Um… I like reds over white wine. But I haven’t had that many reds to say which kind is my favorite,” You muse.

“Guess we’ll have to try some more red wine, huh?” Jungkook says, his eyes sparkling and bunny smile on display.

Your heart warms and sputters at the same time.

“Yeah,” You nod breathlessly, “What about you? What do you like?”

“I’m not picky. I don’t really like cabernet,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Too bitter for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You giggle, unable to believe that such a noise is coming out of your mouth. Despite Sana and Namjoon having their own conversation on the other side of the room, it feels like it’s just you and Jungkook for a minute in your own bubble.

“I like a good chardonnay, too. Nice ‘n crisp.”

“Me too, I love that crisp taste of a good white wine,” You reply, unable to keep your eyes off of him for longer than a second. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are a pretty pink and you wonder if his cheeks are as warm as yours are.

“Thought you didn’t like white wine?” Jungkook murmurs, head tilting inquisitively.

“I prefer red, but if there’s white wine in front of me, I mean,” You shrug, “It’s not like ‘m gonna say no.”

“Oh? We’ll have to test that out, too,” Jungkook smiles, “I like soju the best. Nothin’ beats soju.”

“Yeah, peach and green grape,” You say knowingly, “The only flavors with rights.”

“Exactly. You get me,” Jungkook nods with wide eyes. He asks you about Tokyo, if you come here often. You answer him somewhat vaguely, but tell him that you grew up reading, writing and speaking Japanese. He looks impressed by that and the fondness in the lines of his lips startles you.

You chalk it up to the romance of this city making you soft and pliant to his doe eyes and the warmth of his smile. He’s so easy to get lost in- you find yourself leaning closer to him to hear what he has to say about his own travel dreams. He wants to go to New York City and Bangkok and Athens- the way his eyes light up constricts around your heart.

Every part of him radiates warmth and you want to be draped by it. He says something that makes you smile and laugh, and you swat at his shoulder reflexively. Jungkook only looks at you in that way. The way that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s good at that.

He has hearts and stars in his eyes for you and it makes you choke.

Maybe you had imagined it all because you remember where you are. You’re in your boss’s hotel room and he’s standing right there. Jungkook sees the spark in your eyes disappear immediately and you pull away just as quickly, as if the moment had never happened.

He won’t deny the sting, but you’re so easy to get lost in. The fog in his mind clears, and while it’s only been a few minutes that you’ve been alone. It feels like much longer. But Namjoon and Sana are still deep in conversation, his dimples on display and her smile bright.

You pull away but your dark eyes are still wide and focused on him, stars swirling in your irises and Jungkook thinks he might fall into this wonderfully brown abyss held in your pretty face. Finally, you move away from him on the floor, almost immediately missing his warmth. You look back at him as you move to get some water, the same curious look on your face.

Your face is burning, and you’re surprised you’re able to keep this cool for this long. The urge to bolt from Namjoon’s hotel room and back to your own is one that you have to fight. But instead, you stay planted where you are. Jungkook confuses you, you hardly even know him and you had let him get so close to you. It’s not something you usually do, but what unnerves you is how nice it felt. The closeness of him, his eyes on you and only you. Are you bothered by it?

No, you realize. No. You quite liked it. You’re supposed to hate him- he represents everything you hate. A young kid, a boy, raising quickly through the ranks of your corporate world, while you grasp at straws.

Does he? Does he represent everything you hate? What a load of bullshit.

You swallow again. You need to leave.

“Hey, Joon,” You say softly, touching his elbow, “I’m going to head out. It’s getting late and I’ve gotta head out early tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He’d made you so uncomfortable that you were abruptly cutting your night short. Because of him. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll walk with you,” The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth before he can stop them. His heart is pounding in his ears- he needs to apologize before you hate him even more.

“Okay,” You reply with a smile, “Here are your leftovers.”

“I’ll walk with you both,” Sana says, taking her bag.

With that, you say your goodbyes and leave Namjoon’s room to the elevators. Your head feels like static, a wave of thoughts congealing into something impenetrable. The doors ding shut, all three of you standing on opposite ends of the elevator. You can’t look at Jungkook, you can’t see his doe eyes. Not right now.

Sana calls your name, “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem, Sana,” You murmur, “See you tomorrow.”

And then it’s just you and Jungkook in the elevator.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says immediately, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. If you don’t wanna talk to me outside of work, I get it-”

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. You take a step forward, close enough to him that you’re in his orbit. “You didn’t… You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Jungkook. I would have told you if you did. You just… confuse me.”

The last bit comes out as a vulnerable whisper and all Jungkook can do is nod.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You say clearly, casting him a look over your shoulder as you exit the elevator. Your eyes are guarded once more, as if the night hadn’t happened. As if he hadn’t fallen for you even further. You wash him away from your bloodstream quickly and Jungkook feels his heart aching once more.

By the time you pick up Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok from the airport and arrive at the hotel, it’s nearly noon. The car ride back was fun, dare you say it. It amazed you how Jin still remained close in contact with people you went to college with. It felt natural, talking to Jimin and Hoseok. As if years hadn’t gone by.

They were hot, and that was your first assessment when you had met them at the airport. Jimin and Hoseok had both embraced you in tight hugs, without any regard for whether you wanted one or not. You found that you didn’t really mind.

You didn’t know how you were going to survive this weekend surrounded by these many attractive people.

“We should celebrate. For this reunion,” Hoseok says.

“Jungkook is here, too,” You reply, “A great big university reunion right here in Tokyo, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you guys work together now,” Jimin says.

“Wait, you guys are friends still?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Jimin says, genuine confusion in the handsome planes of his face.

You suppose everyone else is better at making and maintaining friendships than you are. It stings a little, having so many people from university in the same place. In the city that already holds so many memories for you. But you’ll embrace it, because that’s what you’ve been working on. Embracing change.

And of course, what was a boys weekend without a night out at the club? Jin had all but demanded that you come, in true dramatic fashion- I can’t go out without you, you know. I can’t believe you’re considering leaving me like this. I’ll die there without you.

It didn’t take much from you to roll your eyes but agree and tell him that you were inviting Sana.

“Go pregame and get ready with your boys,” You had urged him, “It’s so rare you all are together like this. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure?” Jin asked with uncertainty and you had only smiled warmly at him.

“Yes, Seokjin. I’m sure. I’ll be crashing the party soon, don’t worry,” You reassured him and he left your hotel room. He promised to text you when to come and you just nodded, shooing him away.

That had been nearly two hours ago, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup with Sana getting ready in the bathroom. Music is playing through your phone and once you’re done with your lip gloss, you make drinks and prepare shots for you and Sana.

“You’ve gotta tell me how you’re friends with so many hot men,” Sana says, taking a seat on the bed.

You scoff, “I’m really only friends with Jin. The rest of them come with Jin, we’re hardly friends.”

“Oh?” Sana asks with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow, “You all went to school together, right?”

“Yeah… Something like that,” You say lightly, “Jin kept in touch with all of them. I didn’t.”

You leave it at that and Sana knows not to press further.

“They’re all nice guys. I always had fun with them,” You say fondly, “You will, too.”

“Cheers to that,” Sana grins, “We look hot. Let’s take a picture.”

“Should we send it to our boss,” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, that would send him off the deep end. He’d be here in five seconds, dragging us out by our ears,” Sana rolls her eyes as well with a laugh.

You try your best to make Sana feel as comfortable as she can with you. At least so that she’s comfortable when you go meet up with the guys later. You know it can be intimidating being around people who are so close, but they’ve always been welcoming.

It begs the question- why did you let them all go?

You don’t have time to unpack all of that. By the time Jin texts you, telling you to come to his suite on the eighteenth floor, you and Sana are three drinks and two shots in.

You’ve drank more in the last two days than you have in the last year alone. At least that’s what it feels like.

You make sure to take your hotel card, phone and wallet and ensure that Sana does as well. Giggles erupt from the both of you when you enter the elevator, and excitement thrums in your veins. The liquid courage bouncing around in your veins makes you feel relaxed and you tug Sana’s hand out of the elevator once the steel doors open.

You text Jin from outside his door, you can already hear the loud peals of laughter and the beat of music through the walls. You wonder if they’ve gotten any noise complaints yet, but probably not- his room is the only one on this side of the hotel. He probably did this on purpose.

When he doesn’t answer your text, you decide to knock obnoxiously and Sana giggles at your impatience. On your fifth knock, the door swings open and you see Jin’s tipsy face complete with reddened cheeks and his broad smile.

He hugs you like he hasn’t seen you in years, he even lifts you off of the ground a little bit. Your heart flutters with affection for him as you whine for him to put you down.

“Jin!” You shriek, “At least go inside, dummy- stop embarrassing me-”

He finally puts you down and holds you by the shoulders to take you in. His eyes are sharp and he says nothing as he assesses your outfit, apparently deeming you as acceptable as he waves you inside. He says hello to Sana, who returns his mellowed out hug graciously.

Jin hands you both full cups, and you trust Jin enough to know it’s a yummy but strong drink. You grip your cup tighter and allow Sana to go in front of you. The last thing you want is for her to feel left out, so you want the guys to be introduced to her first.

Besides, they all already knew you.

Jin does the introductions quickly, the guys all warming up to Sana and bringing her in for hugs as well. Her cheeks are flushed, and you knew she’d feel flustered. They’re intense in their friendliness and it would make anyone feel flustered and warm.

And then their eyes land on you and you wish you could melt into the floor. Six pairs of eyes stare back at you- apparently Yoongi had also decided to come as well.

College reunion indeed.

You stay close to Jin, offering them a weak wave of your fingers and a smile.

“Hello boys,” You say dramatically, “Long time no see.”

“Jin’s been hiding you all to himself, hasn’t he?” Jimin says, not bothering to hide the way he’s looking at you. And you don’t mind, not really- you know you look good.

“I just saw you this morning. When I picked your sorry ass up from the airport,” You reply and Jimin pouts at you as everyone around you laughs at his expense.

“Still so mean,” Jimin murmurs and you roll your eyes.

And with that, alcohol continues to flow as the chatter continues on.

You cast another glance to Sana, making sure she’s not by herself. You relax when you see her talking to Yoongi and Hoseok, smiling to yourself at how quickly she takes to them.

“Hey pretty,” Jimin says, seeing you near the alcohol and joining you.

“Hey you,” You parrot back and he smiles at you in that sweet, disarming way, “Want a drink?”

“You always made the best drinks,” Jimin says, handing his cup over to you. You ignore the way your chest tightens at his use of past tense.

“Maybe you just never knew how to make drinks,” You murmur, “Probably still don’t, huh?”

Jimin laughs lightly at that as a silence falls between you both. “You look good,” Jimin exhales, “You doin’ alright?”

You never know what to say to that. “Yeah. You look good, Jimin. You doin’ alright?”

“Yeah. I’m still in Seoul at the dance school. Don’t be such a stranger,” Jimin murmurs and before you can protest, he pokes your forehead affectionately.

“You’ll ruin my makeup,” You complain but give him a small smile, “Jimin. ‘M glad to see you. All of you.”

Jimin looks like he wants to say something more. But he bites his tongue. This isn’t the place to pick a petty fight, so he lets it go. Jungkook approaches you both, resting his arm on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin groans dramatically and Jungkook only offers him a smile and a giggle.

“Cup’s empty,” Jungkook says, wiggling his cup to both of you, “Stop hoggin’ the alcohol.”

“Blame Jimin. Everything’s his fault,” You tease and Jimin rolls his eyes at you both.

“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook grins and Jimin slips out from under Jungkook with another roll of his eyes. “Hey, you met Taehyung yet? My roommate? You ‘member him?”

His eyes are slick with alcohol, and yet they still sparkle at you like you hold all of the answers to the universe in them. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. It unnerves you, like many things about him do.

“No, where is he?”

Jungkook shouts for Taehyung to join him and you wince. All of a sudden his sandy haired roommate pops up from the direction of the living area and joins you at the drinks table. He looks a far cry from the boy you had driven home that night many years ago.

You knew being in the presence of so many attractive people was going to kill all of your brain cells by the end of the night.

Taehyung calls your name and nerves seize you inexplicably.

“You remember me?” The words escape your lips before your brain has a chance to stop them.

“Course I do? The pretty girl who saved Kook and I at that one bar that I’m still banned from?” Taehyung grins, his eyes sweet and sincere.

“Jin was with me too, don’t forget him,” You say dryly, “Nice to see you again after all this time. And you’re Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Unfortunately,” Jungkook chimes in, earning him a laugh from you.

Taehyung is magnetic when he speaks to you, honey dripping from his tongue as he tells you about his journey as an aspiring art museum curator. Passion lights up his dark irises, his smile matching the intensity of it and you’re certain he has this effect on everyone he speaks to. They’re both so close to you, in your bubble and the scent of their cologne wafts into your nose.

You drink more. You don’t know how to cope with all of this. So you drink.

Jungkook tells you that they’ve been roommates all through graduate school and they had recently moved into a new, bigger place. Now that they were both making a little more money. You find yourself benignly jealous of the life they live- two close friends living together and living for these kinds of nights with their other close friends. The bond they built and strengthened over the years is obvious in the way Taehyung holds Jungkook close, the way Hoseok lights up the entire room and makes everyone smile just because he’s smiling, the way Yoongi and Jimin bicker like an old married couple… Namjoon has already slotted himself within the group. Jin probably introduced him to them a while back, you realize.

Jungkook excuses himself to use the bathroom, leaving his cup next to Taehyung on the table. Taehyung’s gaze makes you nervous- the shift in his eyes is apparent as he lazily rakes his eyes over you.

“Kook told me he was workin’ with you again,” Taehyung murmurs, “What he didn’t tell me was how pretty you are.”

“What a line,” You say flatly and roll your eyes. To your surprise, he laughs, his smile making you smile as well.

“Just bein’ honest,” Taehyung shrugs, “‘Snot everyday you see our hot grad school girl after five years.”

“You’re full of it,” You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully, “‘Our?’”

“Jungkook was-” Taehyung starts but he’s interrupted by the man himself. Jungkook was what?

“You talkin’ about me?” Jungkook says, elbowing Taehyung. Taehyung only shakes his head and hands him his cup, before excusing himself. He throws you another charming smile and if you weren’t so on edge, your knees might have buckled.

“He’s…”

“A pain in the ass?” Jungkook supplies, “Yeah.”

“No, I was gonna say he’s interesting,” You laugh. A short silence settles between you both, giving you a moment to really take him in. You itch your chin nervously before pushing your lips to the rim of your cup and watching him.

You’ve always known that Jungkook was somehow handsome, sexy and cute all at the same time- wide, doe eyes, pinchable cheeks, pretty smile, and then his body… His thighs strain against the tight material of his pants and you’re certain it’s deliberate. His button up shirt is loose but still molds to his muscles in that way where it leaves you wanting more. His shirt is buttoned at the elbow, giving you a peek to the smattering of tattoos on his forearm. His dark hair is parted in the middle, all soft and shiny, and a little long. It settles over his forehead, almost in his eyes, effortlessly. Two hoops in each ear glint in your direction and you swallow nervously.

Jungkook catches you looking at his tattoos- how ironic, considering he’s doing the same of you. The satin black top you’re wearing has a plunging neckline, giving him a view of the tattoos stemming from your upper arm to your clavicle.

It also offers him a teasing hint of your bare chest where if you turn to the side just a little, he catches a glimpse of even more. It makes him swallow, just as nervous as you. The top itself is loose, only cinched a little at the waist but your pants are tight, your strappy heels adding even more dimension to your legs.

You nervously twist the layering of gold necklaces around your neck. Jungkook has always thought you were beautiful, but he’s never seen you like this. Not even when he knew you years ago.

“Your cup’s empty again,” You laugh nervously, offering to make him another drink. You don’t know what to do with your hands, wanting to keep busy.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes, “Yeah.”

He tries to keep his eyes on your hands, really he does. But you bend forward just a little and his eyes immediately flit to your plentiful chest.

Jungkook thinks he might die, and what a way to go.

You pull away from the table, handing him his drink and he thanks you quietly. Jungkook ignores the way your eyes shine curiously at him, and he buries himself in the confusion fuzzing up his mind.

Jin, to your relief, pulls you away from Jungkook before you can do something incredibly stupid. Like let him burst through your carefully structured walls even further than he already has.

Typically, clubs are not your favorite place to be. The intense crowd, the neon lights, the smoke… It’s all over the top. Usually, you can’t even hear yourself think over the music. Though, you don’t mind the sense of anonymity in such a crowded place. Besides, you’ve heard great things about IBEX, so you’re curious about it.

It’s a huge place, easy for everyone to split up, but still small enough that you can easily find your group. You urge Sana to go have fun with the guys as you order a round of drinks for everyone. As one of the oldest of your friends, you felt that sense of responsibility for them. Even if you hadn’t called them friends in years.

You signal them over once the drinks are ready, catching Namjoon’s eye and beckoning him over. They slowly begin to surround you, shouting thank you’s over the music. Jimin slings his arm around your shoulders as if it’s nothing. As if he’s known you for all this time.

It makes you feel warm. He gazes at you with crescent eyes and a full smile. It makes your heart thump heavily in your chest.

“Cheers,” Jimin says, tearing his eyes away from you and towards the group. His toast elicits a sequence of ‘cheers’ from everyone. You scan across all of them before your eyes inevitably land on Jungkook. He’s looking at you with a smile, the kind of smile that makes you wonder if it’s a smile only for your eyes.

Your smile matches his in intensity, neither of you pulling your gazes away. Until Jin pulls you away from Jimin, exclaiming that he needs to dance with you. His best friend.

The moment passes, and you make sure Sana is okay. She’s conversing with Yoongi now, and he’s laughing at something she’s saying. It makes you feel warm. Again.

You allow the music to pump through your veins as laughter bubbles from your lips freely at Jin’s antics. You entertain him, copying his coordinated movements with his same enthusiasm. You can tell he’s drunk, from the fiery flush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He abruptly pulls you close to him for a tight hug and holds your face in his hands.

“Jin,” You giggle, “What you doin’?”

“I love you,” Jin giggles, “Y’r my best friend, ‘n I love you.” He always got like this when you were drunk, so affectionate. You wonder how he knows exactly what you need to hear, when you need to hear it.

“Can’t wait for you t’meet Yuna when we get home,” Jin slurs.

“I’m excited, too-”

“She’s nervous y’know,” Jin continues as if you hadn’t said anything, “Knows y’r my best friend.”

“Jin,” You exhale, “Even if she doesn’t like me, you clearly like her. I shouldn’t matter-”

“No,” Jin says sharply, “Why d’you think you don’t matter? You matter to me.”

“Jin-”

“Stop it,” He silences you and you comply with a sigh.

“She doesn’t have to be nervous around me,” You finally say.

“You can be a little scary when you want to be,” He teases.

“That’s exactly how I want to be known,” You scoff and Jin laughs, swaying with you offbeat to the music. You stand with Jin like that for a few minutes, sipping on your drink and giggling at his antics.

“Seokjin,” You murmur, voice a little shaky, “I never say it but… I-I love you. So much. You’re my best friend and my rock. I don’t know who I’d be without you-”

“You’d be you,” Jin says without missing a beat, “You’d be scary, intense, kind, genuine, petty, funny and beautiful with or without me, sweetheart.”

Jin sees wetness in your eyes and pulls you in for another hug. “None of that,” Jin murmurs, “Hey, let’s take a picture ‘n send it to Grandma. She’ll get a kick out of that.”

You stand in Jin’s arms, in the crowd of people surrounding you and not paying attention to you. Despite the throng of people around you, it feels like it’s just you and Jin, and your friends in the club.

“Let’s get back to our friends,” You say, “They probably think we’re making out-”

“You would be so lucky,” Jin scoffs, “Only Yuna gets this handsome face.” You pinch his cheeks affectionately and coo at him.

“Hey, by the way,” Jin says, “Not to be totally unprofessional here. But I’m pretty sure Jeon Jungkook has the hots for you. Kid won’t stop lookin’ at you. Not that I can blame him, I mean look at your tits.”

With that statement, Jin walks away from you, leaving you confused and curious- two words becoming increasingly common with your thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

“Hey pretty,” comes a sweet voice to your right side. You already know it’s Jimin before you meet his sincere eyes.

“Hey you,” You reply, “Wanna dance? We used to always be in sync.”

If Jimin is surprised he doesn’t show it. He only takes your drink and finishes it, placing it on a high table near you. He walks behind you, a hand on the small of your back as you weave through the crowd easily. Bodies push back into you but you only dance along with them to move past. Jimin pulls you closer to him once he finds a spot, pulling you into his side. He turns you so that you’re facing him, the lights of the club illuminating the sheen of his lips and the shine in his eyes. You push a stray strand of his silver hair back behind his ear.

“I meant it you know,” Jimin murmurs, for your ears only, “You look good.” You lean into him at his praise, a hand on his chest. Your nails press into the soft material of his dress shirt and he tightens his grip around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles.

“You do, too,” You reply easily, “You always did.”

Jimin scoffs but you look at him earnestly. “I mean it,” You say with a smirk, mimicking his words. He says nothing, only holds you and rolls his hips into yours to the beat of the music. He watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. You snake a hand to the base of his neck and lightly scratch as he presses his nose to your neck. You’re lucky he’s holding you tight- you’re certain you’re knees would buckle if it weren’t for him.

It’s been years since anyone danced with you like this. You let out a soft sound into his skin and Jimin groans, pressing his hips into yours even more slowly if possible.

“Why’d you leave,” Jimin breathes into your skin, “Missed you. Missed my friend.”

“I was a mess,” You mutter, “I’m still a mess.”

“You’re here now?” He asks, looking at you with big eyes. Jimin cups your face tenderly, and you’re not sure how many of these kind touches you can take for one night.

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I just… couldn’t. I still can’t.”

You won’t apologize for mending your own cracks the way you needed to. And Jimin knows that. “Don’t be a stranger,” Jimin says and pulls you in for a hug.

“Jimin,” You mumble, “I missed you, too.”

Barely stifling a yawn, you look around for your group. They’re all within eyesight of you- Sana and Yoongi were still engrossed in conversation with each other, Namjoon with Jin, Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook. Taehyung casts a look over to you and immediately whispers to Jungkook. It shouldn’t surprise you that they both saunter over to you, standing on either side of you. Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans against you as if you’re old friends. At this angle, you can see the expanse of his tanned, golden skin since the top few buttons of his shirt are popped.

“See somethin’ you like?” Taehyung asks coyly with a wink.

“No, just wondering why you’re wearing tinted aviators inside,” You mutter, pointing at him, “You look like an asshole.”

Taehyung laughs, throwing his head back good-naturedly, “You clearly don’t know fashion. You must think you’re hilarious.”

Before you can retort, a yawn overtakes you. “Are we boring you?” Jungkook teases.

“No, ‘m just tired,” You blink to force yourself to stop yawning, “Hey, you guys wanna get ice cream?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says instantly.

Taehyung nearly snorts but agrees. By the time you and Jungkook say your goodbyes, and you ask for the tenth time if Sana wants to come with you (she declines, opting to stay with Yoongi), Taehyung is nowhere to be found. Jungkook rolls his eyes, his phone vibrating with a text from him-

taehyung: you’re welcome

“Tae’s not coming,” Jungkook says slowly, wondering if you might change your mind if it’s just you two getting ice cream.

You shrug, “His loss. I know a great place.”

Taking Jungkook to one of your favorite ice cream places that you used to come with Appa to feels intimate. But it feels right and you’re not bothered by it. Once you buy your respective cones (you pay for both before Jungkook can even fumble for his card), you head back outside for a short walk towards the hotel.

The ice cream place itself was close to the hotel, though you had to Uber here from the club. It’s a nice night for a walk, a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. You and Jungkook fall into an easy conversation, talking about the silliness of your shared friends.

He looks nice under the moonlight, you decide. A light breeze lifts his hair up briefly before it flawlessly settles over his forehead.

“I can’t keep up with you,” Jungkook whispers, his words carrying into the night air.

“What do you mean?” Your heart picks up immediately at the anguish in his tone. The air between both of you shifts immediately. What was easy becomes hardened, the space between suffocating you. You can physically see him pulling away from you. Months, or maybe years, of frustration seems to be coming to a head right here. Right near your favorite ice cream shop.

“One sec you hate me. The next, you’re asking me to get ice cream with you,” Jungkook says, something familiar and icy curling in his brown irises. It always looks so off-putting, the callousness in his eyes. It seems to be directed at you so often these days.

“I don’t hate you-”

“You avoided me for 2 and a half months. You’re only talking to me now because you have to!”

“That’s not true-”

“Oh, really? You telling me that you the last two and a half months was all in my head?”

You stay quiet, because he’s not wrong.

“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook says to himself, tearing his eyes from you. The cold look in his eyes has returned and it makes your heart ache. He can’t look at you like that, you can hardly bear it.

“I’m fucked up, I get it. Don’t think I don’t get it-”

“You left. Without a goodbye and now fuckin’ five years later- my dream girl’s my colleague and she hates me.”

A sudden, chilling epiphany douses you- he has no idea why you left. You know him well enough to know that he’ll feel awful once you tell him. Apparently none of his friends had told him. Maybe they thought it was your story to tell. It’s not much of a story, not really. It’s the story of a heartbroken girl with commitment issues.

Your face drops. Maybe he’s hurting you the same way you hurt him. But it changes nothing.

“You can’t even look at me now!”

“You listen to me, Jungkook,” You hiss, “I’m not your dream girl. I’m nobody’s dream girl, so let’s get that straight. I’m awful a-and terrible and mean- and…

“My dad died,” You finally whisper, “Appa died and I couldn’t handle grad school so I dropped out. Dropped off the face of the earth. Got the first job I could, for Grandma and me.

“I fuckin’ dropped out, my daddy died and I can’t look at you sometimes because it fuckin’ reminds me of when I was happy and I can’t chase that feeling because I don’t know what it feels like anymore!”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pretty pink lips parted in speechlessness. Fuck. You’ve ruined any chance at friendship with him, you know that. So you bury the dagger even further in whatever this is and you turn on your heel and run. Because that’s all you’re good at. Running. Your eyes are blurry with freely falling tears and the sound of your own heaving sobs are loud in your ears.

You leave your heart out on the streets of Tokyo, near your favorite ice cream shop but you don’t even hear the sound of Jungkook chasing after you.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts x reader #bts fic

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weighty-ghosts · 3 years

Text

‘Lion-Hearted’

Lion-Hearted, by weightyghosts

“Minerva McGonagall was as shocked as the rest of Hogwarts when a member of the House of Black was sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin, for the first time in their family’s long history. When young Sirius came to her with doubts and a fear of his parents’ wrath, Minerva had to assure him of where he truly belonged.”

Rating: General

Word count: 1501

Pairing: None

Published: March 6, 2021

Warnings: Allusions to abusive family

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872218

It was September 1st, 1971, and Minerva McGonagall was standing in the Great Hall, a scroll of parchment in hand, and the newest students of Hogwarts gathered in front of her, waiting to be sorted into their Houses.

She looked at the next name on her list, and called out, “Black, Sirius.”

An onyx-haired boy with steel-grey eyes, expensive robes, and perfect posture made his way through the throng of first years that quickly parted for him. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he carried himself with the air of someone born into opulence, who had been told from birth that the world was his to take.

Curiously, the closer Sirius Black got to the stool where the Sorting Hat rested, the more his arrogance seemed to slip into apprehension. He climbed the three short steps, then hesitated, his hand hovering an inch away from the Hat, before he plucked it up and placed it on his head, perching gracefully on the edge of the stool.

Minerva checked her list again, getting the next name ready on her lips, assuming the Hat was about to cry, “Slytherin!”

It did not.

Chatter had picked up in the Hall when she’d called Black’s name (it wasn’t all that exciting when you already knew where a student would go), but it started to die down as the seconds dragged on.

Minerva glanced at the Slytherin table, where they had no doubt been preparing to welcome their newest member, but heads were now turning in confusion. Bellatrix Black was leaning in to whisper something to her younger sister, Narcissa, who pursed her lips together like she’d tasted something sour. The middle sister, Andromeda, peered nervously between the two of them and their little cousin.

A minute had gone by and the entire Hall seemed to be holding their collective breath.

Minerva looked down at the boy on the stool, wondering what sort of conversation could have been going on in there, when the Hat suddenly opened the slit near it’s brim and roared-

“Gryffindor!”

Silence swept over the room. Minerva tried not to show her surprise, but she was as frozen in shock as everyone else.

Sirius slowly removed the Hat from his head, as he slid off the stool, and turned around to carefully set it down. He seemed uncertain of what to do next, and Minerva instinctively reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

Sirius met her gaze, and for the briefest of seconds she thought she saw fear in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He spun around to face the rest of the school, and Minerva was filled with immense pride for his courage. She began to clap enthusiastically, the professors behind her following suit, and then all of Gryffindor stood and erupted in raucous cheers. Minerva had to suppress an eye roll as they jeered and threw smug looks towards the Slytherins on the opposite side of the room.

Sirius finally broke out into a wide grin as he sauntered over to his new House table, finding a seat in the midst of scarlet and gold.

As she continued with the ceremony, Minerva peeked back at Sirius and watched as his eyes tentatively raised to the far table, locking with the other faces that looked so much like his own. His smile faltered, then dropped altogether as the colour drained from his previously rosy cheeks.

She followed his line of sight, and a chill went down her spine. The rest of the Slytherins looked murderous enough, but something about Bellatrix and Narcissa’s expressions unnerved her; it wasn’t shock or anger that she was seeing, it was disgust. Andromeda’s face was as pale as Sirius’, though her eyes were full of pity and worry.

When Minerva glanced back at Sirius, he looked ill, with his head bowed and mouth in a thin line, gazing desolately at the empty gold plate in front of him.

* * *

The following morning, the Great Hall was full of nervous first and second year students, anxious about being late on their first day, and keen to start the year off well. The older students would be along soon, the novelty of waking up early having worn off long ago.

Minerva had just finished breakfast when her eyes landed on the Black boy, and she was content to see that he seemed happier than yesterday, talking animatedly to his dorm-mates: Potter, Pettigrew, and Lupin. She was particularly pleased to see Sirius engaging with Remus; when she had met the young werewolf in her office last night, before bringing him to the hospital wing to meet Poppy, she’d had the impression that he planned on keeping to himself as much as possible and not making friends because of his condition. Minerva had been worried about him, but perhaps she didn’t need to be.

She smiled to herself before standing to make her way to her office to gather what she needed for the day, exiting the Great Hall as the owls flew overhead to deliver the morning post.

She’d barely had a chance to review her first lesson plan when there was a knock at her door.

“Professor McGonagall?”

“Mr. Black,” she greeted from her desk, waving Sirius inside. Her movement faltered as she took in the hollow expression on his face and the heaviness weighing down his shoulders, a stark contrast from how he’d appeared a few minutes before. “Please have a seat. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” he replied automatically, and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her, sitting up rigidly.

“What can I help you with, then?” Minerva asked, clasping her hands on the desk.

Sirius hesitated, clenching and unclenching one of his fists, hard enough to leave imprints in his palm from his fingernails. “Professor,” he started slowly, “I was wondering… Has anyone ever switched Houses after the Sorting?”

Minerva blinked at him in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“Is it possible…for a student to switch Houses from the one they were sorted into?”

“No, Mr. Black,” she replied in a measured tone, “It is not possible and no one has ever done it before. Why do you ask?”

Sirius nodded slightly, sticking his hand in his pocket to fiddle with something that made a rustling noise.

“Are you unhappy with the Sorting Hat’s choice?” Minerva inquired, unable to hide the slight bite to her question. She hoped Sirius hadn’t come to tell her that Slytherin was somehow a better House and that’s where he wanted to be.

Sirius’ head whipped up, his eyes wide. “No, Professor!” He hastened to say, “I love being in Gryffindor!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he looked panic-stricken and guilty, like he’d said something terribly wrong.

“Mr. Black, the Hat knows a person’s innermost thoughts and wishes; it is rarely wrong.”

“But it has been wrong before?” He questioned, desperation laced into his voice.

Minerva sat back in her chair and gazed thoughtfully at the boy in front of her, wondering what had happened at breakfast to cause his distress. “Sirius,” she broached, ignoring his surprise at hearing his first name, “Did you receive a letter from your parents this morning?”

She knew straight away from his reaction that she was correct.

“They aren’t happy with me,” Sirius whispered after a moment, his eyes on his knees.

“Sirius,” she repeated, waiting until he looked up at her, “It is perfectly normal for one to diverge from their family’s House history. It was bound to happen at some point in the Black family, and I’m very glad that it was you.” Sirius bit his lip to keep it from wobbling, his eyes as big as saucers, and Minerva thought he looked years younger than the boy who had swaggered into Hogwarts only yesterday.

“I am quite proud of my House,” she continued, “and I am very proud of you for knowing where your place truly lies in this school. Gryffindor is undoubtedly lucky to have you.”

Minerva’s heart almost broke as she watched Sirius’ eyes fill with tears. He wiped furiously at them, blushing faintly.

“Now, I don’t want to hear any more talk about switching Houses. Your cousins will have me to answer to, should they cause trouble. The same goes for your parents. You and I are Gryffindors for a reason, Mr. Black; lion-hearted, courageous, daring. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Sirius sniffed.

“Off you go now,” Minerva instructed with a smile, receiving a watery one in return as Sirius stood up. She watched him swiftly exit the room, and her smile faded as his steps grew fainter.

She felt a fierce wave of emotion and knew she would do everything she could to protect this child from the storm that would surely be coming for him. No Slytherin, current or former, would intimidate or bully one of her students.

Minerva braced herself for a memorable new year at Hogwarts.

#Sirius Black #Minerva McGonagall #mcgonagall POV #minnie mcg #all hail queen minnie #the beginning of a beautiful friendship #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #sorting hat #professor mcgonagall #ficbyweightyghosts #harry potter fanfic

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟᴛᴀʟᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴡ ᴊᴇᴋʏʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇᴅᴡᴀʀᴅ ʜʏᴅᴇ.

♥♥♥

A well beloved doctor living in London, Andrew has made quite a name for himself! All of his patients are very happy with his work as he is able to always diagnose them properly and give them the correct medicine - truly a divine blessing in this day and age. He's a cheerful gentleman in his mid to early thirties who always has a gentle smile on his face. He is very fond of children and he does not mind babysitting them whenever someone asks him to do so, making him popular with parents and single mothers especially. During the day time he is filled to the brim with work but he always makes time to have afternoon tea, chat with his servants, or just try to enjoy like in general. A truly kind man in the eyes of many!

Alas though, when darkness overcomes his manor a new side of the good doctor surfaces, a side that no one knows about.

And Andrew plans to keep it that way.

There are many, many things that the doctor desires, craves, needs. But he is stuck in the same place day by day as he is forced to play his role of the savior. Even the good doctor Andrew likes to indulge himself from time to time... But that indulgence has gotten out of hand. By sheer accident Andrew was able to create a special elixir which is able to shift him in to a completely different person. His body is different, his hair is different, everything is different. His psyche however, remains the same.

And Andrew uses this newfound knowlege to his advantage.

Dubbing his new alter ego "Edward Hyde", Andrew is pleased to do what he wants once the sun sets. He messes with the townfolk, he shamelessly flirts and seduces any woman he sees, he picks on the young and the poor, nothing is off the table. This becomes a habbit very quickly as Edward is soon well known among the city. Some flee and flinch at the mere mention of him while others scoff and prepare their fists for a fight. Things continue like this for a while until Andrew notices that whenever he changes in to Edward, his mind is no longer fully his. Even throught the day as he sits in his office he can hear a gruff voice at the back of his mind, telling him to just finish the damn paperwork already. He starts hearing this voice everywhere and he starts to think that he is going mad. The voice taunts him day after day until he finally turns in to Hyde. Only then is he able to feel some inner peace. Andrew soon starts to lose control over himself as the voice grows louder and louder, yelling at him and commanding him to do its bidding. Every day now turns in to a battle as Andrew struggles to get out of bed and face himself in the mirror... But that's the catch. On one fateful morning the reflection he sees is not his own.

It's Hyde's.

The glowing green eyes of Edward Hyde stare back at him as Jekyll does his best to hold his breath in. This can't be real, this can't be happening! By now Andrew is pretty much at war with this new persona he had made and he does not know how to stop this coflict. Both do as they please which contradicts their previous actions, making both Edward and Andrew more then a little suspicious to the public eye. By this point Andrew regrets having ever created Edward but it's too late now. Edward Hyde was a part of him now, a dark part of him which could not be released. The only thing Andrew could do was to keep him at bay even if he was bearly able to do so. This constant pushing and pulling was exhausting to both of them and both were more then ready for a release.

And their release indeed came, but not in the way they thought it would.

It came in the form of love. Love for a sweet darling, a twisted obsession and want over this special little lamb who stumbled in to their lives by sheer accident, at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Andrew and Edward remain greatful still.

The pushing and pulling dies down whenever (y/n) is in the room and their attitudes are completely different from each other. Oh, if only (y/n) knew just what sort of danger awaits...

Andrew Jekyll.

Ever the gentleman, Andrew always places his darlings needs before his own. He worries for his sweetheart constantly as he dotes on them, making sure that they are safe and happy. Did his darling eat today? Did his darling sleep well? He won't ever stop asking these questions whenever he sees them, he just can't help himself! He never shuts up and he always seems to forget what he is trying to say but that's okay, his darling doesn't seem to mind.

Andrew stays gentle like that for a while as he treats his darling like divine royalty which does not go unnoticed by the people around him. He hears his servants whisper many things once he turns his back but he can't help but to blush a little - he may act a little awkward but in reality he really doesn't mind.

Andrew is also willing to bend over backwards and break his spine to get his darling whatever their little heart desires. He has more then enough money then he knows what to do with anyway! He wants jis darling to depend on him, he wants to be darlings only one true protector. He wants to provide for his darling like a good husband would.

Andrew often loses himself in these little fantasies that he gets distracted from his work, cahsing him to mess something up or to accidentaly spill or destroy amything around him. It's a vicious cycle of endless pinning as Andrew just doesn't have the guts to express his feelings, much to Hyde's annoyance and amusement. Cracks will start to form deep within him as Andrew tries to restrain himself more and more whenever he is around his darling. His smiles are not entierly his anymore as he stares his darling down like a piece of meat. Andrew hungers for darlings love and approval which in a way, does make his darling a piece of meat to him.

No matter what he just can never get enough of his darling, ever. The cheerful smiles thrown his way are not enough, and good grief just the mere brush of darlings fingers against his own is enough to send Jekyll in to a panicked frenzy. He loses his composure right there and then as he is forced to look his darling in the eye and do... nothing. He can't do anything he desires, he can't grab his darling by the back of their neck and press those pretty little lips against his own...

He can't caress the love of his life freely in public.

Hell, he can't even touch them without someone making a fuss.

Everything, everyone, is slowly driving him mad.

His love is driving him mad.

Andrew's affection starts to turn conditional, he can only ever shower his darling with gifts if they behave how he wants them to, if they pay enough attention to him, which is of course never quite enough.

His sanity fades as lovesickness kicks in.

His patience is wearing thin. What's taking his darling to love him back already? Hasn't he done everything any ideal lover would do? He has done literally everything, it must be his darling! It can't be his fault! His soft spoken words soon turn sharper then any knife as he imagines that very same weapon in his hands, pressed against darlings pretty little neck. Bruised, bloody and broken, that's how Jekyll wants his darling to be now.

He wants to crush them in his love.

And chances are, he will give in to his temptations.

Edward Hyde.

Tsk, tsk, this man is quite the charmer. A real smooth talker blessed with a deeper voice then his more seemingly more gentle counterpart, Hyde is no stranger to suggestive comments and rough touches. His feelings ignite like flames, quickly and suddenly. They take over his heart and soul, burning him and leaving endless ache and want in its path.

It's a strange feeling. He doesn't know how to feel about it...

When he meets his darling he treats her just how he treats other women. He craves nothing more then darlings body but when darling turns him down Hyde feels intrigued. Playing hard to get, eh?

He is always up for a good challenge.

Hyde stops paying attention to other women and his darling soon becomes his prime time target - Edward cannot move on unless he has his darling. He provokes, taunts and teases, just itching to see darlings reactions to his schemes. Cuss at him, slap him, do anything you want! Just as long as your focus is on him that wolf like grin will never leave his face. He just loves it when his darling turns red, it's so cute he could kiss her. His provoking continues like this for a while until Hyde begins to realize just how some couples act around each other. His softer side starts to show itself and it's something to marvel at really.

Unlike Jekyll, who is soft at the beginning and turns cruel at the end, Hyde is the opposite of that. He doesn't want to just mess with his darling anymore, he wants to actually love and care for her, to actually be in a commited relationship.

His protective side is on full display and anyone with at least a single braincell should be able to get the message.

Hyde often wonders when the Hell did he become so soft all of a sudden. He wants this pain in his chest to stop but the only way it can is if his darling is with him. He doesn't need anyone else... He doesn't want anyone else.

Let's hope Hyde's darling has a strong stomach because he doesn't give a damn who he has to hurt. He and Jekyll are nearly nothing alike but if they share on thing in common, it would be determination.

Edward Hyde has found his prey and he isn't going anywhere without it.

Tags: @3rdgymbros, @eclipsezero, @ghostiebabey, @yandere-of-your-dreams, @howl-of-the-hunting-lambs, @yandere-wishes, @severnrsstuff, @twstdreams, @twst-soul, @hattress-of-spades

I did my best guys, I hope this was okay! First time making a OC, sorry if it's too similar to the original characters. As I write more stories for them I'll try to build them up more! And feel free to ask any questions if you have them!

#yandere #yancore #yandere male #yanderecore #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #jekyll and hyde #yandere andrew jekyll x reader #yandere andrew jekyll #yandere edward hyde x reader #yandere edward hyde #edward hyde #gothic #victorian era

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smileyjaeminies · 4 years

Text

Hey, stranger

Synopsis: You are preparing to say goodbye to uni life and take a leap of faith into the unknown. What happens when you are met with an unexpected visitor? Decisions are tricky… Will you be able to make the right one?

Word Count: 7,5 k

Genre: ex- boyfriend au!, angst

Warnings: smoking, drinking, fighting, cursing

Member: Jungkook, ft Namjoon and Lisa from BlackPink

A/N: This took every last cell of my energy to write. I think a part of me will live within this work. Say hello to my new favourite piece.

If life was full of crossroads, you could clearly see the one waiting for you only a few steps away. Could the butterfly effect be true? Could every single choice you make drastically change the outcome of every day ahead of you? How could you ever be sure a decision was right?

Could you trust your heart? Or would it always lie to you? Your head? Or would it force a decision on you? Could you take a friend’s advice? Would it be right to listen to someone else when the result only concerns yourself?

Still lost in thought, you pry open your window slowly as to not make any sound. You take your legs out first, climbing on the steps of the narrow fire escape. It creaks under your weight, a familiar and almost comforting sound. You squeeze the cup of tea in your hand, hoping that its heat will seep into your fingers. A wisp of air makes you shiver, your teeth threatening to clatter together.

You shouldn’t be out. You are dressed in your home clothes, leggings and an old oversized hoodie, not nearly enough to save you from the cold air outside. Yet you don’t mind, allowing the cold to surround you as you wrap a blanket around your shoulders.

You glance back inside, your room in complete disarray. A big suitcase is sitting opened in front of your closet, filled to the brim. Everywhere around your room are opened boxes, some of them half empty, others overflowing with your possessions. The walls seem empty as the fairy lights that used to decorate them are packed in one of the boxes. The collage of pictures that accompanied them is now stored in an album.

You reach for it, getting comfortable on the fire escape again as you shuffle through it. The smile on your face only keeps growing as the memories come back to you. Your first day in uni, your first dorm, countless pictures of you and your roommate, Lisa, from various adventures from 3am liquor runs to stressing over exams.

With every picture, you see the passage of time. How you moved out of the dorms and into your first apartment, your first day at your shitty part time job to pay rent. You and your friends’ first time at karaoke night, only for it to become tradition. Beach days and hikes, laughs and crying sessions.

Lost in the array of pictures is a picture of him. Your first instinct is to bury it, shoving it under all the other pictures. You scoff, turning to look at the skyline for a while. You try to pry him out of your head, but your heart is yearning to look at the picture again. You shake your head again and again, trying to think about something else, anything else.

Your hands move on their own accord, looking though the mess you made to find his picture again. You find it at last, a sigh escaping past your lips. The picture sports you and Jungkook, your (now) ex-boyfriend, happily smiling with matching peace signs framing your faces. Jungkook’s hair is hidden under a bucket hat, messy strands peeking through, while his eyes shine brightly, a million little stars hidden away in their depths. Next to him, your smile has taken over your features, almost making your eyes seal shut. You both look so happy, so good together, like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly.

You can feel your heart twist inside your chest. The memory behind the picture surfaces quickly, as it from the days you were still trying to impress each other. For your first dates, you would take turns showing the other your favourite places around the city, trying to get to know each other better. This picture was from an outing at one of Jungkook’s favourite pastry places.

With Jungkook, every day was an adventure, every day brought a surprise. He always went down roads no one ever treaded, happy to make a path for himself where there was none. There were no easy choices with him, only right ones.

You knew if you kept looking at that part of the pictures, you’d find more traces of him. After all, he had been a big part of your life for almost two years. So you went ahead and looked through the pictures, from your one year anniversary, to meeting his parents, then yours, silly pictures taken on drunk nights, memorabilia from your road trips.

Tearing away your gaze from the photos, you changed your position, now sitting cross-legged as you beheld the sky line. Your thoughts were bringing back memories from your relationship, as if a film was playing before you and you couldn’t stop watching.

You recalled your first meetings, soft hellos on the elevator or when you were grabbing your mail. You soon learned that he lived with his best friend on the floor above you, apartment 4C. You and your own best friend were currently residing on apartment 3C. Coincidence? Maybe.

Then again, perhaps not. For random meetings were one thing, but him walking out to your beloved fire escape more and more often could not be incidental. The first couple of times it happened, a comfortable silence reigned over you after a timid greeting, both of you cherishing the time to get lost in your thoughts.

You almost jumped out of your skin when he finally walked up to you one day in one of your favourite cafes. You remember well, how he managed to gather up the courage to walk up to you, messy flock of brown hair and all, using his favourite greeting, one he saved only for you.

“Hey stranger”, the sound of his voice plays in your head.

After that day, lonely hours on your fire escape became hang out sessions as you talked about what was on your minds, letting go of all your worries. You found solace in him and he grew to trust you more and more. Those stolen moments turned to actual dates when you finally got fed up and asked him out. As you got to know him better, you discovered that the mysterious guy living a floor above you wasn’t mysterious at all.

Jungkook was… his own galaxy. How could someone’s presence be so enticing, screaming at everyone to take note of him, while he was introverted and quiet? How could someone excel at basically everything he did, everything his hands touched turning into gold, yet be so blissfully unaware of it? How could someone be so passionate, pouring himself into his work, whatever that may be, while remaining unsure of himself?

He was full of contradictions indeed. And those contradictions became the cause of your relationship falling apart. He made you happy, even in those last days, you truly felt happy when you were with him. But more and more obstacles came to stand between you. You had lost your way of connecting and he seemingly wasn’t interested in getting it back.

The screaming still lingers in your ears. You can almost hear the glass breaking as you both screamed at each other, desperately trying to get the other person to listen.

Yet you don’t regret speaking up that day. If anything, it showed you what you already knew. You were both too caught up in yourselves to be someone for the other person to love. While you still cared for him, you knew that staying your distance was what you both needed.

Especially now. You truly couldn’t fathom how the opportunity for you to get away had just bounced onto your lap. You accepted without a second thought, knowing it was just the opportunity you were searching for. And here you were, packing, ready to start traveling as the personal assistant of one of the most influential photographers in the fashion industry.

The industry was complicated of course, yet you had always loved it dearly. You had made your first skirt at the age of 13, only for your love to grow as you started unfolding more fashion secrets. From altering thrifted clothes, to making your own, to studying fashion in university, you were dedicated to your dream. Now, you were caught up in it, finally landing the break you wanted to enter the exclusive world you have only caught glimpse of until now and making your dream into reality.

A knock came from your door, violently snapping you away from your thoughts. You twisted around a bit, calling for them to come in. Lisa’s head peaked from behind your door, a smile lighting up her face.

“Hey, you” she called, walking over to you.

“Hey baby” you answered, smiling back at her, the nickname effortlessly flowing from your lips.

You scooted over, inviting her to sit next to you. You got comfortable on the small space, leaving your legs to hang out as you snuggled under the blanket. Your head came to rest easily on her shoulder, fitting perfectly in position as you both watched the city lights flicker before you.

“At least you’ve opened up the boxes” she teased you.

“Hey!” you said, poking her stomach as retaliation, “I’m almost done with my closet and I’ve packed all my books! That only leaves…” you let your voice trail off, your eyes skimming your room.

“Literally everything else” she joked again, and this time you couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“Do you need help, baby? I know this must be hard for you mentally” she asked, her tone sweet, deprived from the joking attitude she had only moments before.

You needn’t think for an answer, only shook your head firmly.

“I need to do this myself. Come to terms with it.” You told her.

You felt her nod as a comfortable silence reigned between you. After a few moments, you felt her arms around you tighten. Without a word, you tightened your own hold around her waist.

“I’m going to miss you so much” you whispered.

“I’m going to miss you too. It almost feels like I don’t know what to do with myself now that you’re leaving.” She told you.

You had nothing to say to that. You and Lisa had been stuck at the hip for years and yet, you knew it was time for you to move on. From the very first day you met her in your assigned dorm room, to today, when your paths would inevitably split up, Lisa had been an invaluable friend to you. It was hard for you to imagine a life without her next to you.

But you weren’t scared. You knew her better than she knew herself, and vice versa. She understood you and you knew that she would always be there for you. Your friendship was strong. It would hold out.

“You know”, she broke the silence “Joon texted”

Your eyes widened at the mention of the boy. Namjoon was Jungkook’s roommate and best friend, currently hidden away inside the apartment above you. You looked back at your best friend before asking,

“What did he say?”

“Well… It appears that he let slip to Jungkook that you’re leaving. And he didn’t take it very well” she admitted.

“Oh?” you asked.

“Apparently he’s throwing a temper tantrum up there. So I thought…” she was saying, when you cut her off.

“No. Lisa, no” you said sternly.

“Y/N,” she begun, only for you to cut her off again.

“No, Lisa, don’t. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to drink my tea and pack in peace” you told her.

“Is that enough? What about closure?” she asked you.

“I’ve had it. It’s been six months. If he wanted to talk it out, he should’ve done it a long time ago” you answered.

“If that’s what you want…” she said, her voice trailing off.

“That’s what I want. I’m leaving this place and him behind me. I only ever need you” you said, trying to give her a comforting smile.

“Oh shut up you cheesy little shit” she said, cuddling further into you.

After a few moments of silence, Lisa slowly started to draw herself away.

“I’m too cold for this. I’ll see you later?” she asked, climbing back inside.

“Sure. I’ll try to finish up so we can have those drinks we talked about. Girls’ night?” you offered.

Lisa’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. You loved the thought yourself, putting your phones away for a while and just having drinks with your best friend sounded like a dream. You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself as you got lost in your thoughts once again.

You watched silently as cars passed from the road under you, hurriedly trying to get to their destination. Not a lot of people were out, and those who were, were maneuvering through the streets, rushing to return to the safety of their homes.

There’s a storm coming. You thought, watching dark clouds filled with rain make their way towards the city. Funny, the weather always found a way to match your mood. Your eyes turned to the open boxes once again as you struggled to form a plan to get through packing as fast as possible.

Then, the familiar creaking sound of a window opening above you startled you. All your muscles tensed up, your body going on overdrive, your senses heightened. You tried to keep your head straight, silently praying that he just opened the window to get some air, that he wasn’t going to get out.

Your prayers went unanswered.

The fire escape creaked loudly as more weight was pushed on it. You heard him huff lightly as he settled down, getting comfortable. Your mind could already see him, even though your eyes couldn’t, his legs spread in front of him, cigarettes in hand, back leaning on the wall as his face was colored by the blinking lights of the city.

“Hey, stranger” Jungkook called you, causing your breath to hitch at your throat.

You masked your shock by taking a sip of your tea, trying to brush Jungkook off. However, he had other plans.

“I know you can hear me. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, just don’t fucking ignore me.” He snapped.

You didn’t pretend you didn’t hear him this time. You scoffed, annoyed but his stubbornness, turning to look at him, your eyes searching for his. He was sprawled across the staircase just like you expected, his hands busy swirling around a pack of cigarettes. His hair was longer now, you noted, parted square in the middle, curls falling effortlessly to frame his face. His doe eyes were the same, holding your gaze as his tongue moved out of his mouth to wet his lips.

“Hello, Jungkook” you said curtly.

“Well then, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked, his lips turning up into a smirk.

You shook your head, not wanting to lead him on further. It seemed that he was also out of things to say, for silence overtook you for a few moments. Jungkook then opened his pack, placing a cigarette between his lips and fumbling for a lighter. Having located it, he lit his cigarette, taking a big swig of it and letting out a puff of smoke in the shape of a ring.

His eyes found yours again, for yours were already on him, watching his movements. Something flashed in his eyes then, so quick you didn’t have time to put a finger on it. Without a word, he tossed the pack on your lap.

Your eyes shifted from the cigarettes to him as you tried to figure out what to do. Your mind drifted back to the thought of crossroads as you grabbed the pack with your hands. Lisa’s voice also replayed in your head. Closure. Such a silly thing.

You opened the pack, picking up a cigarette and putting it between your fingers. You reached out, motioning for Jungkook to pass you the lighter. He reached for you, lighter in hand, your hands brushing a little as you got the lighter. Sheltering the small flame with your hand, you lit your cigarette, the familiar feeling of smoke filling your lungs overtaking you.

You blew out the smoke in a puff, failing to make a ring identical to his. You placed the pack and cigarettes some steps above you and in Jungkook’s reach. He tossed them back inside, turning his attention back to you. Only this time, you weren’t looking at him.

Your eyes had drifted away, back onto the bustling city as the cigarette in your hand burned like a beacon. Jungkook felt his heart twist inside his chest, felt his hands yearning to touch you, his lips to be placed upon yours. He managed to quiet his thoughts, assuming a stoic expression as you turned back to look at him.

There was something in your eyes, something Jungkook had never seen there before. He tried to hold your gaze, but you looked away too quickly, your eyes falling on the inside of your room.

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” he asked, testing the waters.

“Well, I am here now” you said, turning to look at him once more.

Jungkook’s mind was flooded with possibilities, things he’s never told you, things he wished to tell you, for so long. You were desperately trying to read him, wishing that you know what was happening inside his head.

“Jungkook…” “Y/N…” you spoke up at the same time.

You chuckled, Jungkook soon following suit. Still, after all those months, you were in tune. You looked at him, smile still settled on your lips as he returned the look. He motioned for you to go first and you took a swig of your cigarette, trying to buy yourself some time.

You opened your mouth to speak up when a drop of rain fell on your hair. You were startled, flinching as you turned to look at the sky. He flinched too after a few seconds, a droplet of rain dropping on his shoulder. Slowly but surely, large drops started falling from the sky all around you, leaving you to giggle like a child.

“Want to take this inside? Help me pack, keep me company, whatever?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

He raised a brow, looking directly at you as you fumbled with your blanket, trying to get it over your head to shield you from the rain. Once you met his eyes again, he was still curiously regarding you. You put out your cigarette, throwing it away and waiting expectantly for his answer.

With one last drag, Jungkook put out his own cigarette, getting up. He was hovering over you when he said simply,

“Let’s go”

You smiled up at him, happy with his answer as you pushed your way back inside. You threw the now damp blanket in a corner of the room, suddenly self-conscious of the awful mess. You heard him shuffle his way in, landing rather ungracefully on the floor under your window.

“You’d think that after doing this so many times you would have gotten the hang of it… You disappoint me Jeon” you joked.

Jungkook glared at you, causing you to laugh loudly. You reached for your phone, going to text Lisa that you had someone over, as you always did and vice versa. Your hand hovered over the screen, hesitating to open the messaging app.

Telling Lisa would… Complicate things. She’d ask questions after, questions you couldn’t answer because in all honesty, you didn’t know why you called him over. How did you go from not wanting to see him or talk to him to inviting him over? You weren’t really sure. In the end, he’d exit the way it came. No trouble at all. Right?

Yes, your mind answered for you. Lisa definitely doesn’t need to know.

You realized Jungkook was talking to you, making you turn abruptly on your heels.

“Sorry, I was kind of daydreaming for a second. What was that?” you asked.

Jungkook smiled at you, slightly shaking his head before saying,

“I just said that you looked very concentrated for a person staring at a black screen”

“Oh shut up” you said, making him raise his hands in surrender.

You huffed loudly, placing your hands on your hips and looking around your room, trying to decide where to begin. One glance at your vinyl collection made the decision for you. The small stack, which only grew over the years, was an easy thing to check off of your list. Grabbing the box closest to you, you sat yourself down at your desk chair, a comfortable distance away from the shelf your vinyl had resided in… Until now.

Glancing briefly at Jungkook, you found him still sat on the floor, eyes locked on the screen of his phone. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration and without glancing at the screen, you knew he was keeping himself busy with a game on his phone. Still exactly the same, your mind added. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was tense, so you decided to speak up.

“You know, you could always sit on the bed. Or actually help me pack”

“So you brought me here to do your dirty work for you? No thanks” he said.

“Oh come on, you can’t just sit on your phone! Just do the board games or something” you urged him on.

He got on his feet, making you think that he would actually do as you asked. You turned back to the task at hand only to jump at the feeling of his hands gracing your shoulders lightly.

“I could always do you” he said, his tone low.

You almost lost yourself in the touch, when you snapped yourself back to reality, flinching away from him. You were glad you couldn’t see him, it only made your next words easier.

“In your dreams Jeon.” You said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

You heard him mutter something under his breath, before actually making his way to grab a box to fill with your board games. He settled down, getting to work without a word. Your mind was running on speeds you didn’t know possible, your shoulders still tingling where his hands had touched you.

At some point you heard him laugh out loud, making your racing mind cease, your attention brought back to him. You looked at him shyly from under your hair, somewhat afraid to meet his gaze head on.

“Remember when we used to have best friends vs best friends board game nights and Joon would kick your ass in Name, Animal, Plant with words like, oh, I don’t know, fucking Hyacinth or something?” he said, still chuckling slightly.

You too laugh at the memories. While you and Jungkook were still together, you, Lisa and the boys would often meet up for game nights of board games, loads of food and alcohol. You fondly remembered those nights, were everything was normal, there was no weight in your chest and your smiles came as easily as breathing.

“Remember that night Lisa sprained her ankle while we were playing charades?” you retorted.

He broke into a laughing fit, clearly recalling the crazy night that followed the incident. So many memories came to mind, replaying in front of you effortlessly. So many happy memories, so many smiles, laughs and inside jokes, so many things connecting you.

What went wrong? Your head screamed as you watched Jungkook’s back. He was animatedly reminding you of all that transpired one night where Namjoon believed himself “Extremely sexy” and tried dancing to ‘Havana’ by Camilla Cabello. You, of course, where there, and you recalled the event quite vividly.

But there was something about watching him retell the story, the corner of his lips turning up as he spoke, his eyes getting smaller and smaller as laughter sealed them shut. His words were often stopped by laughing fits and he turned around to see if you were watching now and again. Each time, you’d meet his eyes, nodding in encouragement as you threw your own two cents in, pushing the story further.

Having him with you made you feel weird and safe at the same time. You appreciated the company, he always found a way to make you feel at ease and after a while the conversation flowed naturally between you, as if you were two old friends… Which you were. Kind of. Furthermore, the night had a tone of finality in it.

It was strange for you, sitting in a room with him, surrounded by your things and burdened with so many memories and yet not being able to touch him. You were holding yourself back, filtering your actions, words and emotions carefully. You were balancing on the edge of a cliff and it would only take so much for you to tip into your demise. You stole glances at him, not yet ready to study him openly. You recognized all the small mannerisms and quirks that made Jungkook, Jungkook. But still, you were reserved, keeping your voice down and your laughs short, not being able to lose yourself in him, his presence, his voice, his laugh, his words.

It shouldn’t surprise you how easily you worked together, moving in different parts of the room and wrapping things neatly. You knew the other well and still, you were in tune, giving the other space when needed or rushing to help sort something out. You could read each other with a simple sideways glance, which could be part of the reason you still hadn’t met his gaze since you came inside.

You didn’t need to give him instructions or anything, he simply took initiative and started placing your belongings in boxes, trying to save you space and fit as many things in as possible. After sitting on your suitcase, squeezing it with all your might in a final attempt to close it, it was over.

You stood with your hands on your hips, a final huff leaving you as you admired your handiwork. The boxes were neatly placed one on top of the other in a corner of the room and Jungkook was now dragging your suitcase to sit with them.

“I guess we make a pretty good team, huh?” he asked.

And it had happened. You’d tipped from the edge. You felt the tone of the room shift, his seemingly innocent question bouncing off of your walls in an unending echo. Your heartbeat picked up, your hands getting sweaty as you fumbled for words to answer him.

You sat on top of your bed, craving for some kind of comfort. He turned to look at you then, his doe eyes finding yours. It took all of your strength to muster up a smile, shaky as it was. It sufficed, for you saw Jungkook nod a little, seemingly mulling over his own words.

“How about some music?” you asked, taking your phone on your hands.

“No, not you, I’m designated DJ, remember?” Jungkook stopped you, already opening Spotify on his phone.

You gave him the finger, laying back on your bed and waiting for him to play something that fit the mood. Jungkook admittedly had his way with music. He listened to a huge array of different artists and was happy to provide you with playlist for any given emotion or situation. Your favorite one, one of the last tokens of his you held dear, was the one he had named after the city you lived in, managing to capture its vibe perfectly.

Remember when we first met?

You said, “Light my cigarette”

He absolutely did not. You shot up on your bed to find him already looking at you from under his curls. A cheeky smile made its way to his lips as your head swirled in circles. He sat back, challenging you with a look.

He played your song. Your fucking song. On one of the first times you hanged out with him, still in the awkward phase you only bumped into each other and shared a few words on the fire escape, you discovered you both harbored the same love for a singer named Troye Sivan.

As your relationship matured, blossomed into a true companionship, ‘Strawberries and Cigarettes’ came out. And it fit. It fit like a glove, just like the faint cigarette taste that adorned Jungkook’s lips and the strawberry flavored gum you were somewhat addicted to. It fit in the way he taught you to make smoke rings and the road trips you had gone on together. It fit in the black jeans he always wore, the spare lighters that you always seemed to find in the bottom of your purse and fighting over boxes of candy.

And even now, it fit. Because you were leaving, ‘giving your heart a holiday’. Because you were wondering if you’d teach each other fate.

The song softly played as your thoughts raced inside your head, Jungkook patiently waiting for your reaction.

“Turn it off” you finally found the strength to say, holding his gaze.

Your voice came out low, shaky and you cursed yourself for not being able to have more conviction. He did as he was told without a fight, as you got on your feet to look outside the window, anything to avoid his eyes. The storm was still going strong outside, the rain playing notes on the metal of the fire escape.

You took a few deep breaths, making an effort to calm yourself down. Too preoccupied in your thoughts, you didn’t hear him get up or walk up to you. You jumped when you felt his hands on you, trying to wrap themselves around your waist.

His movements stopped momentarily, obviously waiting for you to shove him away. When you didn’t, he eased his arms around you, placing his hands in the pockets of your hoodie.

What the fuck am I doing? You asked yourself as Jungkook rested his head against yours and you instinctively melted at the touch. A few moments of stillness and tranquility passed, until Jungkook moved, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

Your eyes fluttered closed, as all your other senses heightened, the feeling of his hands around you, his scent, his movements, all way too familiar. He breathed in your scent, stopping there for a few moments to ground himself. Then, his kisses moved, first to the shell of your ear, then your temple, your cheek, to arrive and settle on your lips.

He still tasted the same. The thought made you want to cry as you felt his hand cup your face to keep you in place. You allowed yourself to savor it, savor the way he felt pressed against you, his lips on top of yours. Your legs turned to jelly as your hands grabbed his shoulders to keep you steady. You felt yourself slip back into a time when this was not a rare occurrence but everyday life, when you were awarded with kisses for the smallest of feats and when your lips on his didn’t feel like a breath of fresh air but rather coming back home after a long day.

Home. The word abruptly brought you back to reality. You pulled away, untangling yourself from him.

“Stop” you said, still no conviction in your voice.

“Y/N, just-” he started but you cut him off.

“No, Jungkook. No. This is closure okay? This is it. I’m leaving tomorrow, you know that. Why are making this harder for me? Why should we re-open old wounds?” you asked him.

“Because they haven’t fully healed, Y/N! Look, I know you’re leaving tomorrow but…” his voice trailed off, his hands curling into fists.

“There are no buts, Jungkook! You helped me pack for Christ’s sake, you helped me wrap up things here. It’s done. I’m doing this” you said.

“Then why would you kiss me like that?” he asked.

The question hit you like a ton of bricks. Why did you kiss him indeed?

“I don’t know.” You answered truthfully.

He scoffed, pressing his body on top of yours once more. He grabbed your hand, placing it over his heart. His movements were abrupt and rushed, his hand pressing yours so hard it almost hurt. You felt his erratic heartbeat as he spoke up,

“Do you feel that? That’s my heart, still crazy over you. All night, it took everything in me not to kiss you. But I did. And when you kissed back I… I thought there was a chance. Just tell me. Tell me you don’t want this” he said.

“Jungkook…” you started, your voice trailing off as your thoughts got clouded by your close proximity.

Taking a step back, you were pushed against the wall, his body caging your own, arms on either side of your body, eyes baring into yours. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, let alone think, everything becoming too much and too intense. You desperately tried to collect your thoughts, find a way to get to him, make him understand why you couldn’t.

“I have to go. This is something I have to do, for me.” You explained.

For a few moments, there was silence. Neither of you moved as your eyes were stuck on the necklace dangling from his neck, a small anchor. Your gift. You just couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like you were being dealt with blow after blow and it was all too much. Not baring the silence any longer, you weaseled under his arms as you spoke up.

“This was a mistake. I’m… I’m sorry I kissed you, I thought it was closure but… It’s clearly not. You should go” you told him, turning your back on him as you desperately tried to keep your voice from breaking.

“Y/N. Please.” he begged.

You shook your head, your hair whipping around as the tears started to blur your vision. You looked at him with the corner of your eye, not strong enough to face him head on. His expression was open, his arms dangling on his sides, defeated.

“I need this, Jungkook, more than you’ll ever know. I need to get out. I need… I need to start over. Please. Don’t make this any harder.” You tried to explain.

Finally, something flashed in his eyes. Could it be realization? You’d never know, for he pried open the window forcefully, turning around to look at you again.

“For the record, I’m not sorry. I don’t take anything that I said or did back. I still love you. Always will.” He said.

Without waiting for your reply, he got out into the staircase and the rain. A few droplets landed on your window seat, but you didn’t care, only watched frozen as he walked away from you.

A few moments later, your tears slowed down enough for you to close the window.

“I still love you too.” You whispered onto the glass, a sob chocking you.

Eyes bloodshot and nose running, you went to find Lisa in the kitchen. Once you walked in the room, Lisa took in your disheveled state and rushed to your side. When she gathered you in her arms, new tears found their way into your eyes.

“Oh, baby” Lisa said, rubbing soothing circles down your back.

“He was here” you stated.

“I know. Joon texted me the screenshot once Jungkook texted him” she told you.

“Traitor. I didn’t want you to know” you mumbled.

“I know. But you weren’t sly either. I could hear you laughing clear as day” she said.

“Fuck. This place isn’t soundproof at all. Thank God I’m leaving” you joked through the tears.

“Hey. I’m stuck here for another two years for my post grad. Show some respect” she joked back, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

“Now sit your ass down. I’m busting open the good wine and we’re going to talk about everything tonight” she said, giving you a theatrical spin.

And talk you did. As you got through the whole bottle, even bringing out a second one for a couple of glasses, you talked and talked about what transpired that night, Jungkook and Namjoon, school and work and everything in between.

That night, none of you bared to be alone, so you found yourselves sharing Lisa’s purple comforter on either sides of her bed, your legs tangled together to feel closer to each other.

This is it. Last night. Your head kept repeating as sleep finally claimed you.

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

Morning came quicker than you expected, the blaring of your alarm startling you awake. You groaned at the sound, turning it off as quickly as possible before turning to lie on your back. Lisa stirred next to you, as you knew she would, taking a couple of minutes before opening her eyes.

You stared at the ceiling for a few moments, your brain trying to fully wake up before you peeled the comforter off your form, leaving Lisa to scroll through her phone. You washed up quickly, getting ready and you meeting Lisa in the kitchen for breakfast.

Only this time, she didn’t greet you with her usual soft smile. She slowly peeled her teary eyes from her mug to watch you walk in.

“Oh baby” you said, immediately rushing to her side and wrapping your arms around her.

Your own eyes filled with tears as your best friend sobbed into your shoulder, holding you tightly. You whispered soothing words in her ear, trying to calm her down, reassure her that you were going to be just fine. She composed herself, and you poured two bowls of sugary cereal, one for each of you and a mug of coffee for yourself.

You nibbled on the cereal in silence, both evidently trying to hold back tears. With a glance at her phone’s clock, Lisa was the first to break the silence.

“We should go” she announced and you just nodded at her words.

You moved to your room, dragging your big suitcase with you, leaving the boxes to be picked up in a day or two by the moving company. You checked your purse for last things, making sure you had everything. Your eyes scanned the small room, your heart swelling with nostalgia and your eyes getting teary again. You perched the purse further up your shoulder, before whispering a goodbye to the room that had been your safe place for almost three years.

You dragged your suitcase to the living room, where Lisa was waiting for you. Again, you looked around a room that held so many memories of you and your friends, lovers, passing people and everyone in between. You had to close your eyes for a moment to stop the tears. With one deep breath and a firm nod, you turned to Lisa.

“I’m ready” you announced, closing the door behind you.

The ride to the airport was filled with silence, as a random radio station provided you with music. None of you paid too much attention to it, both too preoccupied with your own thoughts. You looked out of the window, your eyes racing over the familiar streets of the city you studied in. You remembered how lost you were the first times you had gotten out on your own. Now, it felt like the city was imprinted in the back of your hand.

Finally arriving at the airport, you and Lisa unloaded your suitcase from the back of her car and she offered to carry it until you checked in. After finding the correct counter and checking in, you and Lisa sat down in a nearby bench. A few moments passed by, before she started rambling, clearly nervous,

“Do you have anything to eat? Maybe you’ll get hungry on the plane, let me go get you something”

You got hold of her hand before she could stand up, pulling her back in the seat next to you.

“Baby, I’m fine. Can we just… Sit here for a few minutes before I go?” you asked her.

Lisa didn’t reply, only nodded a little before resting her head on your shoulder. You rested your head on top of hers, a sigh falling from your lips. At that moment, you were content.

The time flowed by too quickly for your liking and before you knew it, the airport speakers announced that your gate was opening in only 10 minutes. Your eyes met Lisa’s as both of you got up to walk to your gate. Your movements were slow as you walked, your hands entwined.

When you arrived, you were surprised to find Jungkook standing in front of the gate, legs clad in black jeans, a black hoodie thrown on top, hair a complete mess. His chest was heaving, his eyes searching the crowd franticly before they met with yours.

His lips formed your name and you felt a smile creeping on your face. He run towards you and you opened your arms to welcome him. His body hit yours like a tidal wave, as he gathered you up in his arms, crashing his body on yours as if he was trying to consume you.

Giggles bubbled through you as you felt his arms tighten around you. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in, the all too familiar scent of his aftershave, cigarettes and soap.

“I just couldn’t let you go” he mumbled in your ear.

Your eyes filled with tears as you drew back, desperate to get one good look at him. He let you, your eyes locking in an intense stare. You raised your hand, softly running it threw his hair as his eyes fell shut, melting into your touch.

A million questions rushed through your head. How did he get here? Why? Why now? Why him? You silenced your mind, choosing to savor the moment, burying your face in his neck once more as his hands moved to wrap tightly around your waist.

Breaking apart for the last time, you smiled at him as he did the same.

“Maybe they’ll be a time for us again. We’ll find our way back to each other” you said.

“Yeah?” he asked innocently.

“Yes.” You said with certainty, reaching up and placing a small peck on his lips.

Then, you left him, turning to hold your best friend once more. She squeezed you with all the strength she had and you did the same. Moving back, you raised your pinky and she didn’t hesitate to lock it with her own.

“Fuck you” you said simultaneously, an old tradition, a token of your friendship.

Having said your good byes, you moved towards the gate, your steps sure and steady. After the employees checked your ticket, you were allowed to pass through.

Turning back one last time, you waved to them, sat close together near the gate. You could tell Lisa was crying now and you mentally thanked Jungkook for being there for her, hand across her shoulders. With that last wave, you took a step forward, a step closer towards your new life.

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

After the bad sleep you had the previous night, it came as no surprise to you that you drifted off not even halfway into the movie you had picked to watch on the flight. You were awoken by a flight attendant softly tapping your shoulder and informing you that you were about to land.

The nerves decided to kick in at that exact moment, making your leg bounce uncontrollably throughout the landing. The woman that sat next to you eyed you closely, but you hardly noticed her stare. You almost darted up from your seat the minute you touched the ground, but you quickly composed yourself, trying to calm down and have some patience for the few remaining moments.

When the ‘seatbelts on’ sign was turned off, everyone around you bounced to their feet. You too followed their suit, pulling on your coat and gathering all your things. With your purse perched up on your shoulder, you disembarked from the plane, only for you to get lost in a river of counters, checks and searches.

After all the necessary procedures were over, you were finally able to stand in line and wait for your suitcase which gave you the perfect opportunity to take out your phone to text your mom and Lisa. After shooting out quick texts to both of them that you landed safely, you rummaged through your coat’s pockets for your earphones. Having located them, you plugged them in, opening up Spotify and leaving your favourite songs to play on shuffle.

Familiar lyrics flowed in your ear, lyrics you had heard only hours before as ‘Strawberries and Cigarettes’ played, Troye Sivan’s voice taking over your senses, clouding your thoughts, leaving you confused and dizzy. Why Spotify? Why would it play here, on your new beginning? Why couldn’t you escape him?

But then again, you knew that you’d carry Jungkook inside you for a long time yet. He wasn’t an easy person to escape and you weren’t ready to let him go. Maybe this was teaching each other fate. The smile grew on your lips unbeknownst to you as you realized just that:

The last chapter of your story hadn’t been written just yet.

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ephemeral-sorrow · 3 years

Text

The Sweetness of Frenemic Love

Sometimes the strangest thoughts enter my head and make me write something bizarre but really touching at the same time. :D

pairing: Lilly x Male!MC

summary: It`s one step from hatred to love.

warning: a bunch of fluff ;)

Have you ever experienced resentment towards someone you`ve never met in real life?

Felt irritation and anger bubble up inside your head like lava slowly filling the volcano to the brim, almost turning your eyes into two sizzling hot coals?

Lilly had been familiar with these disgusting sensations even before she got to knew MC - the obnoxious stranger Hannah sent her number to and the one who managed to infiltrate their group and spread insurgency among everyone and everything around. Her sister`s disappearance ruined their peaceful lives, putting Lilly and her parents into huge stress, when each day with news even more horrible than on previous one, took away all their hope. So, to conclude it all, a completely unknown weirdo, who gained access to different sorts of information as well as trust of her blindly oblivious friends, now was sticking his nose into other people`s business without pangs of conscience.

The way things were progressing kept Lilly infuriated and incredibly... depressed. She refused to admit that to herself, but she was even angrier because of her own helplessness. She wanted to do something useful and finally get a clue that might come in handy or at least set things up so that the investigation would be faster and more efficient. However, guys from the group already had their own theories, sources and clues, took part in various events and furthermore, acted carelessly, not paying attention to threats. ... They made it clear that Lilly`s advice was pointless, just like her participation.

That`s why the mere thought of some stranger doing more for Hannah than her family made something snap inside, clouding Lilly`s judgement and true character with boundless spite. Not to mention, pure fear engulfed her at the suggestion that MC may be the real culprit, and here, cards played so flawlessly right into his hands...

* * *

Now it was a completely different story, and it was kind of hard to believe that was how she used to think of him only a year ago. A lot happened, making those restless days seem like a distant memory or rather a thrilling movie, characters of which were another people, portrayed in another places and time.

“So, what do you make of my new car?”

Lilly blinked, snapping out of her flooding thoughts and returned her attention to the cup of chocolate icecream with gente, pink frosting before her - and finally, stared at the rest of the group, that made themselves comfortable at the cafe table. Today was the celebration on account of Dan`s grandiose purchase - dashing, brand new Audi A3 model. It costed him a fortune but didn`t lessen his enthusiasm nor pride(having exited the hospital as soon as possible, he spent a great deal of effort in finding a good job AND cutting down on alcohol). As a result, every time he ordered apple juice at the Rainbow cafe he declared: “Cool dudes drink only juice!”.

“Dan, that was the hundredth time you`ve asked this question”, despite the fake bored tone, Cleo wore an amused smile, dropping her usual strictness.

“What can I possibly do when all of you are so short-spoken?” Dan dramatically leaned back on the soft cushion. “I need details. Not talking about this pretty girl is a sacrilege”.

“If she was mine, I`d call her ‘babe’ “, ice cubes softly clincked against the glass, as Richy thoughtfully twisted his cocktail in his hand. “And the quiet purrs of her engine are the same as a hearbeat--”

“Now, now, you`re just being ridiculous!” Hannah`s melodic laugh ringed before drowning in the chatter of the crowded cafe. Lilly`s insides warmed up upon seeing her sister smiling sweetly in the Thomas` embrace. She was safe and sound, cheerful and full of love for the surrounding world. Everything was back to normal and it made Lilly genuinely happy--

She felt hot breath pleasantly tickle her ear before a crisp, familiar voice sensually whispered to her:

“I don`t know about others, but if you asked me, the only ‘babe’ I see is you”.

Lilly couldn`t really help the flush that spread on her neck, so she coughed, pretending to be extremely interested in her icecream, which was already starting to melt.

She casted a quick glance at the man beside her, attempting to look unfazed by his sudden compliment only to be met with his mischievous, affectionate eyes.

“MC, we`re... we`re in public”, she whispered back rather shyly.

“You were kind of dreamy while looking at Thomas and Hannah, so I decided to remind you that you didn`t come here alone”.

“Hmph”, Lilly pouted, fixing the fallen lock of her hair. “as if I need your tasteless remarks to cheer up. You should come up with something more original”.

MC laughed airily, flashing his signature confident smirk. Lilly took a small breath, furrowed her delicate brows and turned away stubbornly, turning a deeper shade of red. She didn`t like her heart clenching bittersweetly at his actions, especially in front of her unsuspecting friends. It was difficult to keep a perfectly composed face.

“I`ll cook you Peking meat by my special receipt tonight”, MC continued as if nothing had happened, absentmindedly observing the lively conversation between Jessy, Dan and Thomas, and how Cleo was showing Hannah something on the phone.

“I’ll take it as an invitation to your house?” Lilly inquired. “Why are you so sure I`m going to accept it?”

“Oh please, sweetie, do you want me to list all reasons in front of so many people?” His expression was calm and serious, but Donfort knew better: he was mercilessly teasing her, not caring about precautions at all.

Lilly hit his leg under the table, earning a triumphant ‘ouch’ in response.

* * *

Later that evening at his place, after having had a fair piece of the most delicious meat she has ever eaten, Lilly was helping MC to wash the dishes, drying the shiny plates with a cloth and placing them into the cupboard. He was mumbling a delightful tune under his breath. She glanced at his features. Somehow simply being with this person made her forget about all troubles. But what about him?

“MC”, Lilly tried to sound not too curious.

“Yes?”

“Why did you choose me of all girls? I mean... I`ve never thought that you might become interested in me after what I did to you a year ago with that video and vote. Like in person, let alone a woman. You`ve been best friends with Jessy from the start, so it would`ve been logical if you two have had a thing”.

“To be honest with you, your brother said the same”, he smiled with the corners of his mouth. “What I found in you”.

“Excuse me, what!?” the girl exploded with outrage, dropping the cloth out of surprise. “Jake, that little jerk!! He`s supposed to back me up in situations like this!”

MC was holding his laughter for his dear life or he would inevitably get a handful but frankly, it was getting harder.

“What did you reply? Come on, I want to know!!” Lilly was worried and frustrated at the same time, looking at him impatiently and expectantly, like a little kid who desired to know their present for birthday.

“You seem so desperate-- HAHAHA, I CAN`T!”

Lilly groaned and threw a sponge at him on full speed, not bothering that it was still wet and full of soap. What was so funny when all she wanted to hear was these important words of confirmation?

MC cleaned his face and came closer.

“I replied that you`re the one who understands me. The one who always makes my day brighter. Also you are kind and candid”, his palm rested against her cheek, tenderly caressing it, as she leaned for his touch.

“I can often be impulsive and sharp”.

“That doesn`t make you worse. You always speak your mind. I think it`s admirable. Not to mention, you are a truly charming and elegant woman”.

She didn`t let MC finish his sentence because their lips collided in a soft, albeit passionate manner. Lilly lived up to her statement - this kiss was spontaneous and full of feeling. She traced his wide shoulders, stopping when her hands found their place in his unruly hair, slightly tugging at it.

They parted once they ran out of air.

“Jake additionally said my romantic confession would lead to this”.

“Ugh, you`re terrible!!”

#duskwood #mc #lilly #lilly x mc #jake #richy #cleo #hannah #thomas #dan #jessy #everbyte #duskwood fanfiction

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lovegiveortakefivethousandyears · 3 years

Text

Survivor (9-1-1 fic)

Part of my Alice Verse (link). This is the alternate version for Protector

In the wake of the lawsuit, Buck felt like a outsider at the 118. After the unexpected arrival of his daughter (and the sudden loss of an ex girlfriend), Buck makes the decision to have a fresh start. Returning for his sisters wedding five years later, is there any chance for a new start between old friends?

Can be read here or below

“ ...Mr Buckley, do you understand?”

Buck moved out from his thoughts, the voice of the doctor finally forcing him to acknowledge her. She sent a look of concern in his direction, and he gave a small nod. It was a tiny hint that he recognised the seriousness of the conversation they had just been apart off. His eyes moved to the new arrival which had just changed his entire world.

Ali.

He hadn’t heard from her since they had broken up. She had told him that they couldn’t work, if he chose to return to firefighting. He had chosen his career - his passion. She had chosen freedom, removing herself from his life. As he looked towards the precious addition they had created together, he couldn’t believe that she hadn’t reached out at any point over the past nine months. He would have stepped up, ensured that she wasn’t alone.

Life had changed in the blink of an eye.

He had received a call from a nurse the moment his shift had ended, asking him to attend the nearby hospital, as his ex-girlfriend had been involved in a car accident. He had arrived, to find out that she had sadly passed away after delivering a child. A daughter - their daughter, who was tiny, precious and everything good about the cold, unforgiving world. Everything he had endured over the last few months was suddenly placed at the back of his mind. The cold shoulder that he had been given by his friend - family - and the exile he had been placed within was no longer important.

Everything was different.

She was precious.

Tiny, with blotchy pale skin and tufts of dark hair. The perfect combination of her parents, as she slept unaware that her life had been disrupted the moment she entered the world. Buck reached out, gently stroking one of her hands. He silently vowed to protect her, making a promise to both his daughter and her late mother that she would be given the best life possible. He didn’t even have a name for her, as he wondered if Ali had picked anything out.

He wasn’t able to contact anyone. He was barely on speaking terms with the team as it was, only recently fully allowed back on calls with them. He didn’t want to burden his sister, who was not aware of the full extent of exile which had befallen her younger brother. For a month, he had been considering accepting an offer of a transfer that only the chief knew he had received.

He had never taken the offer seriously. He had vowed to remain, to work through the pain, to try and reach his family once more. Yet, as he looked at his daughter, he knew that he needed to focus on her upbringing. He couldn’t be selfish, he had to fully grow up, stop being exhausting.

As Buck sunk into the seat next to the sleeping newborn, he started to drift asleep by the lull of the machines. He was unaware that his self-consciousness was already making a decision for him. One that would change his life, but ensure that his daughter was given her best start possible.

—

Buck awoke with a jolt. For a moment, he was confused about his surroundings. He could hear a beeping noise that did not resemble his usual alarm. A nightmare had gripped his dream. A familiar one since the tsunami, which usually ended with Christopher never being located. His sleep had been broken for months, starting with the ladder truck crushing him. He wondered if it would get better, as he reached out and tried to remove a knot that had formed on his back.

Getting his bearings, movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Buck smiled as his newborn daughter wriggled in her sleep. He leant against the crib protectively, his heart full to the brim of his adoration for the small being in front of him. The nursing staff were wonderful, and spent the morning helping the both of them.

“I am truly sorry for your loss.” Jem, one of his daughter's main nurses, had told him as she held teach him to feed her for the first time. She shared stories about her own children's births, and offered him guidance when she knew he needed it. Buck barely spent any time away from the newborns side, other then calling the chief to ask for some time away from the station.

He wondered if Ali had a nursery set up. He wondered if she had ever planned on telling him that he was going to be a father. Had she truly believed that he would be that much of a screw up? Or had he been that unapproachable? It was too late to question, she was unable to provide him with the answers that he desperately sought.

As time trickled by, Buck was left with one of the hardest decisions that he would ever have to make.

“Your Aunt Maddie used to read me her books, you know.” He said quietly, as he held his daughter close to his chest. “I used to pretend to hate them, and would tell her that I was old enough to read for myself. Secretly? I enjoyed the attention that she gave me. Your grandparents, well, let’s just say I was a surprise.” She made a small noise in her sleep, and Buck suppressed a chuckle. “Maddie loved the classics. Still does, actually.”

He tested a few names out mentally. Eventually, there was only one choice. A book that his sister had read him numerous times, which he had fallen in love with. About a young girl who would travel to a mysterious lane, where not everything was as it seemed.

“Your Aunt Maddie always loved the idea of running to wonderland. She used to tell me we would go together, leave our parents behind.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “So, how about Alice?”

The newborn - who had woken just as he said the name - kicked out her legs. Buck took this as a sign of her approval.

“Welcome to the world, Alice Buckley.” He said, testing out her name, and knowing that it felt right.

He didn’t want to leave the hospital, but knew that he had no choice.

Alice was healthy, able to be taken to her new home. The problem was Buck had no idea where the home would be. The apartment was only big enough for him. The stairs would be difficult for a newborn, there would be no space for her to eventually have a space of her very own. He knew that Ali would want their daughter to have somewhere secure, and that had caused him to think a lot of their future.

He felt guilty about bypassing Bobby and going straight to the chief for time away. In truth, Buck wanted to show everything that he could deal with a non-work related crisis alone and without causing his team any stress. Sitting by Alice’s hospital crib over the past couple of days had caused Buck to think, to make a decision that would change his life.

It had been months since the lawsuit, and his team had not forgiven him. Eddie had barely spoken a few words in his direction, and being separated from Christopher caused so much pain. The man he had once seen as a father figure only spoke to provide him with instructions. He had not been invited to a “family dinner” for a long while, making his own excuses when Maddie asked him why. He didn’t want Alice to feel unwanted, to sense that her father was stuck in a state of near depression.

He had spoken to only one person about this. A friend who he had made during his LAFD training, who had eventually transferred to Seattle two years before. He had told Buck about a position that was open on his team, his captain had even reached out, wishing to poach the firefighter who had been awarded with a commendation for his efforts saving members of the public during the tsunami.

Buck had initially declined, wanting to try and get back those he considered his family.

Now?

Alice was his new beginning, his future.

Maybe a fresh start was what they both needed.

#9-1-1 #911 fic #9-1-1 fic #evan buckley #parent evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #ao3 #chapter one #dad!buck is the best

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

You thought you’ve seen the last of me? Well, you thought wrong. I’ve been gone for roughly five, but I’m back bitches. Blue’s back and here to stay with all of the free time I have now. I started this a while ago and finally finished it, so make do with this as you will, writing is definitely not my strong suit. Have fun you brats

Title: Beautiful.

TW: Graphic Violence, Choking, Bondage, Blood, and Implied Death.

Beautiful. Really, it was the only way to describe him. Sure there were a million more adjectives that you could use to further express his beauty, but beautiful seemed to be the only one that your mind could produce at the moment. How could you not find him beautiful? He was the epitome of the standard of beauty. One feature that stood out the most was the most perfect toffee-colored hair that looked softer than even the fluffiest of marshmallows that you’d put in your hot chocolate on one of those cold winter nights. Seriously, how did he even get it that soft?

Your thought process froze.

Those eyes. You straightened consciously as he scanned your body.

Your breath hitched.

Beautiful.

There was that word again. Your vocabulary was truly struggling, wasn’t it?

Eyes as sharp as razor blades, but somehow still as soft as a warm hug from a loving parent. You weren’t sure which were staring at you, all you knew was that they sent shivers down your body, all the way down to your bones, shocking your nerves. The soft velvet of his dark chocolate eyes met your own, the intimacy of the eye contact petrifying you into complete stillness, as one wrong move could decide your fate. His mouth curved into a sickeningly sweet smile, but you knew what it truly meant. It was beautiful. Really.

There it was again. Beautiful. That he was, one of the most beautiful human beings you’d ever seen, truly ethereal. Oh, that’s a new word, but beautiful still seemed to overpower it. You could see his smile widen as he let out a soft giggle. Everything about him seemed to be so perfect, it was unfair really.

You kept your eyes fixed on his body as he began to stalk towards you, the sway of his hips enchanting you. The way he walked called for your full attention, so filled with confidence and so absolutely mesmerizing. He stopped in front of you and sighed, the sweet smile still playing on his lips. Your stomach suddenly sank. You had a bad feeling about what was going to happen.

Even up close he was beautiful.

You really couldn’t get that word out your head, could you?

But that didn’t matter anymore, your thoughts quickly redirected as the feeling of something soft running up your thigh took over. You spared a glance down and saw a single slim pale hand slowly traveling up your bare leg, goosebumps rising on your skin at the contact. Soft was not the sensation you were expecting to feel from his hands. Hands that were used so roughly shouldn’t be as smooth as the gentle milky one sliding up and down your thigh. The touch was so feather-light, almost too light for hands that were so abused, and slowly trailed up your body as he stood and walked around your chair, watching your every reaction to his touch. Every little sound you made, every jerk, whine, gasp, every little thing you did was being noted under his watchful eye. Those beautiful dark chocolate eyes.

Suddenly he swung a leg over you, straddling your lap, arms intertwined behind your head. Your heart began to race. He was so close. So, so close. Even at this angle, he looked absolutely stunning. Everything was perfect. What you would give for that kind of beauty, the kind that looked so effortless. You felt a hand tangle into your hair before it was suddenly yanked harshly, a hiss escaping your lips as your head snapped back. Another giggle escaping his. You could feel the subtle burn on your scalp, along with his soft lips prodding at your neck. You could tell he was trying to leave kisses, but he couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling past his lips. The grip on your abused locks loosened until his hand slipped away from your scalp completely. You lowered your head slowly, trying not to make sudden movements.

The second your eyes met, he stopped laughing.

Your head snapped to the right. Your cheek stung, eyes brimming with tears.

How could something so beautiful hurt so badly?

He slipped off your lap and began to stalk around you, much like a predator stalking its prey.

You were nothing but meat on display, and your predator was angry. None of his movements were unnecessary as he walked up to you, a hand sliding up and over your chest as he stood behind you. His face was uncomfortably close to yours as he blew air into your ear, the sensation making you jerk slightly in your restraints. You were so distracted by the beauty in front of you, you forgot about the ropes digging into your skin, rubbing it raw. Your wrists were burning, and your hands were freezing due to the little circulation they were getting.

You shivered as a cold hand crept from your shoulder to your neck, long slender fingers dancing around your throat before gripping it squeezing harshly. You gasped or tried to at least, but to no avail. You couldn’t breathe. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, the lack of oxygen already making you feel dizzy. The room was spinning as you frantically looked around to try and spot him, see his face one more time, but he stood out of your line of sight.

And then all at once, the pressure was gone and you sucked in air like a man starved, trying to take in as much as possible even though the disgusting gag in your mouth, unsure if he would deny you of it again. Your body shook with every wheeze and cough you let out, and you leaned over yourself to try and assist with catching your breath, only looking up when a pair of shoes found themselves in your line of sight. There he was again. The most beautiful human being, looking down at you as if you were the absolute scum of the Earth as your body heaved for air.

He looked absolutely disgusted with having to look at you. A filthy commoner in the presence of a beautiful king. And he was a king, pure-blooded royalty. He scoffed and turned to face away from you, a frustrated growl slipping past his lips.

He was growing irritated.

That wasn’t good news for you.

A muffled scream tried to push past the gag in your mouth as he suddenly turned around and threw his fist against your stomach. Tears sprung to your eyes once again as pain erupted in your abdomen. It hurt. It hurt like hell. Beauty was a pain, wasn’t it? You didn’t think beauty would bring you this much pain. How could he hurt you like this? Why was he hurting you? You didn’t know, but you wanted nothing more than to escape. You wanted freedom.

But the beauty in front of you kept drawing you back in.

You couldn’t breathe, your stomach in too much pain. You wheezed as you watched him carefully, every move he made making you flinch with the knowledge that at any given moment he could attack again. You tugged softly at the ropes that bound your wrists. You had to get out, had to escape. His eyes narrowed at your fidgeting, a scowl deforming his beautiful face. His too soft hand came down on your cheek roughly once again, sending your face snapping to the right. That one was definitely going to bruise in the morning.

If you even made it that long.

You barely had time to recover from the slap before another punch was thrown, your vision spotting and turning black. Your head felt light as the room spun and you could feel the blood pulsing painfully behind your nose and through your skull. He was angry, and although you didn’t know why, you knew your chances of seeing tomorrow were starting to slim down. You could hardly focus on anything, your vision blinking in and out constantly. The only thing you could make out clearly enough was the deep wine red button-down shirt that hugged his slim frame perfectly, the color looking elegant on his porcelain skin. His pale pink lips turned down into a scowl, warm brown eyes staring at you intently.

His soft brown hair quickly became disheveled as he ran a hand through it. He looked so beautiful.

Your head felt heavy and you let it droop forward. Heavy, heavy, it felt too heavy. You groaned as his hand fisted in your hair once more and pulled your head back painfully. The feeling of the blood dripping from your nose making you groan quietly as your breathing grew labored. You had already taken such a beating and he had hardly touched you. He growled and grabbed the metal plate he had somewhere beside where you sat full of scattered tools and threw it against the wall with a scream. The loud crash scared you and you jumped against your restraints, feeling tears begin to race down your cheeks. You really didn’t think you were making it home tonight, and the mere idea was more terrifying than anything he’d put you through until now.

You were trembling pathetically when his infuriated gaze landed on you again, revolt swimming in his eyes. He made his way back over to you, body shaking as he breathed heavily and let out a maniacal laugh. He was completely and utterly unhinged. In an instant he was swinging his fists down repeatedly onto your already limp body, beating you to a pulp. With each connection to your face, more blood coated those long pretty fingers of his. Even with the gag forcing your jaw open uncomfortably wide and muffling your voice, your screams and cries filled the room as he beat you. But he wouldn’t pull back. Rather, it seemed your screams encouraged him to hit harder.

When his barrage finally ceased, you could hardly breathe, the gag paired the blood rushing out of every inch of your face choking you with every attempted inhale. You thought you might finally pass out, but the sudden shock of ice-cold water being splashed onto your defeated body shocked your attention back onto him. Attention. If he wasn’t the center of attention he would throw a fit, especially if he wasn’t the center of yours.

His hands were on you again, every touch making you flinch and every nerve in your body screaming at you to get away. With eyes screwed shut, you were vulnerable. His movements were harsh, but his touches were soft as if he was unsure if he wanted to hurt you or love you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He said finally. “Like you’re scared of me.”

You grimaced at his harsh tone, practically feeling the hurt seeping into his voice. You didn’t mean to hurt him, but it was hard not to feel even the slightest bit scared when every time he touched you it seemed to end in pain. When you opened your eyes again you found him crouching in front of the chair you were bound to, looking at you with gentle sadness and longing swimming in his eyes as he reached out to cup your cheek carefully. For once you don’t flinch away from him.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you…”

His voice trails off as his hand moves up into your hair.

“I just can’t help how you make me feel... You do this to me.”

The gentle hand in your hair suddenly turns into a harsh grip and your head is yanked back, neck fully exposed once again to the beautiful man before you. Before you can even scream, his other hand moves up to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.

“If only you’d listen to me, then you wouldn’t be here. If only you’d listen to me, I wouldn’t have to hurt you.”

He let go of your throat only momentarily and you watched him reach into his pocket for something. You struggled to breathe as if he hadn’t though, the simple process only becoming more difficult the harder you cried.

“I told you to stay away from those mindless dogs. They don’t deserve to look at you the way I do.”

You felt something sharp and cool press against your neck the second his hand left his pocket. With every thrash to get away the blade pressed more incessantly into your skin, your frantic movements only ceasing when you felt little beads of blood beginning to creep down your throat.

“I’ll make sure you can’t talk to them anymore. If you don’t want me, then you can’t want anyone else.”

You wanted to shake your head no, but you were completely defenseless. Nothing toy trapped in the clutches of a very angry child. He pulled the knife away after a long moment, and the tension in your body slowly released.

But then you couldn’t breathe. Searing pain tore through your throat and you gasped and choked for air, the noise coming out garbled as blood poured from your throat. You stared at him with wide eyes, his hand reaching up to grab your bleeding throat as he let the bloodied knife slip from his grasp.

“You made me do this. It’s all your fault.”

You gasped and pleaded for air that you’d never get. You wanted to look away from him, to look at anything else, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You couldn’t look away from his beautiful physique and cold, unfeeling eyes. As you took what would be your final breaths, the last thing that would be engraved in your memory to haunt you in the afterlife was the beautiful face of Oikawa Tooru.

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Thunder - Chapter 1: Warm Front

gif via @hvitserkk

summary: Frankie and Luciana escape a party for some much-needed peace and quiet spent with each other, and unspoken feelings start to stir.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol abuse, drunkenness, partying

rating: R

word count: 3.816k

masterlist

chapter 1: warm front

“I fuckin’ hate parties.”

Frankie sips his beer to hide his smile as Luciana laughs alongside him. “Yet, you’re always at them,” Luciana reminds him, sipping whatever concoction’s in her red Solo cup as she gives his bottle a flick. “And why don’t you ever use a cup? Are you ‘too cool’ for that?”

“Shut up,” Frankie mutters, biting back a smile as he nudges her shoulder. “I just prefer it ‘authentic.’” Luciana laughs as she lets out a sigh, leaning back against the corner of the wall.

Luciana’s not wrong. Even though Frankie hates parties with every fiber of his being, he’s almost always here at Benny’s frat house, finding himself unable to reject the time spent with his best friends. Over the past few years of college, Frankie’s found a friend group that’s become more like a family, unstable at times but also reliable. Tom, Will, and Benny are all people he met within his first week at school—but Santiago and Luciana have been close to his side ever since high school. Him and his four brothers have already planned to move into their next phase of life together serving their country.

Really, Frankie just wants to fly.

He always has. Ever since he was a kid, Frankie’s dreamed of being able to touch the sky. His gaze drifted upwards no matter what time of the day it was, admiring either the clouds or the stars above. His mother used to tell him he could catch a star if he got up high enough, and it would fit right in his pocket. His father used to say he could paint with the clouds, using the edge of a wing as a brush. Frankie would tell them that he’d paint his dad a portrait of their old family dog, and he’d get two stars—one for his mom and one for himself.

That was until his mother finally gave way to her condition, and his father wasted himself away with Jack and Jim Beam not too long after.

But now, Frankie’s got a new family who cares just as much about his dreams of flying. Being the “dad” friend already promised him a spot as their calm and collected pilot, anyway. Santiago always told him that he was the person who steered the group in the right direction—so it made sense that he’d do the same in the air someday. Luciana agreed with those claims. Even though she’s not going to follow the same path as the rest of them, she’s always said that Frankie needs to be in the air. He’s the only one she’d trust, she often tells them all.

So, it’s no surprise that Frankie’s once again found himself on the fringes of another one of Benny’s wild frat parties, keeping a watchful eye over his four brothers as Luciana keeps him company at his side. She’s not big into parties, either—just one of their many similarities. It’s what’s made Frankie draw so close to her, especially over the past few years at college. They understand each other like no one else does. Her and Santiago have been there for Frankie ever since his father started fading, and they practically adopted him into their family. But Frankie would never use the label “sister” on her. He doesn’t know why he can’t do it.

He thinks he might be starting to get an idea as to why, now.

Frankie looks over to see Luciana bobbing her head to the hip-hop tunes that blare out of Benny’s speakers—a firm rule for his parties: current hits only. Her brown eyes are sparkling as she watches the crowd of drunken college kids dancing in front of them, and Frankie likens the appearance of them to that of fresh honey dripping into a warm mug of tea. She has her dark hair tied back in a loose bun behind her head, and a few pieces fall around her face as her free hand tucks them away absentmindedly. Freckles adorn her nose and cheeks, and Frankie has to try to suppress the warmth in his chest when he thinks about how fitting they are for her.

Luciana soon catches Frankie’s eye, and she raises an eyebrow at him curiously. “What?” she asks, observing his close stare. She covers her mouth with her hand self-consciously. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“No! No,” Frankie assures her, chuckling a bit as he takes a hold of her wrist and brings her hand back down. “I just—” Frankie pauses, trying to think of a way to cover his ass, “—I was making sure you’re still awake.”

Luciana furrows her brow as she laughs at him. “I’m not sure how anyone could fall asleep easily here, Frankie,” she remarks, taking another sip of her drink.

Frankie tries to laugh it off, tipping the brim of his hat on his head before taking a swig from his bottle. “If I wasn’t standing, I probably could.”

“I know,” Luciana agrees, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’re an old man stuck inside a college kid’s body, Francisco.”

Frankie wrinkles his nose at the sound of his full name. “What did you call me, Luciana?”

Luciana gasps lightly and narrows her eyes at Frankie. “Are you trying to full-name me back?”

“And what if I am?”

Luciana doesn’t get a chance to answer before Benny suddenly stumbles over to them, throwing his arms around their shoulders. Frankie and Luciana both fall back a bit at the sudden taking of his weight. Some of the drink in his cup sloshes on Frankie’s shoulder, and he holds back a heavy sigh as the reeking scent of vodka hits his nostrils. “Franksters! Luci-Goosey!” Benny greets them, his voice slurred. “What are y’all doing in the corner?”

“Minding our own business,” Frankie answers simply, earning a snort from Luciana.

“Oh, c’mon,” Benny scoffs. “You’re always avoidin’ the fun! You should go dance!”

“I’d rather watch people make asses of themselves,” Luciana asserts, gesturing to the main part of the house where some hotshot’s just tried to do a backflip—and ended up kicking one of their buddies in the face while also landing straight on their back.

“Fuck, y’all are boring as hell,” Benny whines, taking his own weight again as he lifts his arms from Frankie’s and Luciana’s shoulders. “But thanks for comin’!”

“We always do,” Frankie reminds him, slapping his shoulder in a friendly manner before he stumbles somewhere else.

Frankie and Luciana share a glance, barely able to contain their laughter as they shake their heads. That was the typical Benny interaction they’ve been waiting for, always being urged to do something other than sit in the corner where they’re more comfortable. Frankie wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Luce, where’s your brother?” Frankie suddenly questions, looking over at Luciana with a raised brow. He’s lost track of his Santiago, Will, and Tom, and he wonders if they’ve gone somewhere else in the house.

Luciana shrugs. “Probably fucking up a nice game of pong,” she confesses honestly, causing Frankie to chuckle to himself.

It’s true—the minute Santiago gets more than a few drinks in him, he’s an absolute shitshow. Any drinking game he touches turns to chaos. Santiago already has a high energy about him, and so it gets intensified when the alcohol starts pumping through his veins. Frankie doesn’t know how he does it, and sometimes he wonders what it’s like to be the life of a party. It’s a role he knows he’ll never fill.

“Hey,” Luciana’s voice suddenly draws Frankie out from his thoughts. He looks back over to see her looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, one that makes Frankie want to smile instinctively. “Are you ready to get out of here? I would kill for some pizza right now.”

Frankie laughs, nodding as he finishes off his bottle. It was his only drink over the course of the hour they’d lasted at the party, and so he doesn’t have to deny her request to go for a drive as they head out to his truck. It’s a rusty red color, worn from its years of use but still going as strong as ever. The guys and Luciana have often told him that it’s a perfect reflection of himself—but Frankie doesn’t try to think about it too hard. Going in deep isn’t something he’s mastered yet.

They get into the truck, and as soon as Frankie starts it up, the classic rock station starts to play. It’s his favorite—his parents loved to blast it when he was growing up. He has to suppress the smile that grows when he sees Luciana’s eyes light up out of the corner of his eye. “Ugh, Frankie, you have the best fuckin’ taste in music,” she tells him, closing her eyes as “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac flows out from the speakers. “I swear to God. Sing it, Stevie girl.”

Frankie chuckles, taking off for the local pizza place as Luciana hums along to the tune. He looks over every once in a while to see her gazing out of the open window, as if she’s lost in her own little world. Frankie’s always admired the way she does that so easily. Luciana often escapes into the worlds of her creation, but she somehow also stays grounded to her reality. She’s always been the person that’s able to get Frankie to escape his reality if even for a little bit—and that’s just one of the many reasons why he’s so drawn to her. It’s reaching a dangerous level, and he knows it.

It’s not a conversation he’s had with Santiago yet, but he knows exactly what would result from it. Santiago and Luciana are practically attached at the hip. They’re the kind of twins that truly share everything with each other—and should his sister’s heart be placed into Frankie’s hands, he knows Santiago would be on his case all the time. To make shit easier, Frankie knows Santiago wouldn’t let that happen in the first place. Luciana is off limits in any sense other than friendship, so Frankie doesn’t even let himself get there mentally. For now.

“Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’,” Luciana joins in with Stevie’s voice, and Frankie bites back a smile upon hearing it. “Players only love you when they’re playin’.” Luciana releases a light sigh, finally looking back over at Frankie as he navigates the dark roads. “I wish it was raining right now.”

“Yeah?” Frankie remarks, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Are you a pluviophile, now?”

Luciana giggles softly. “I always have been, Frankie. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

Frankie shrugs, turning into the parking lot of the pizza place. “When have we ever talked about rain?”

“Fair point. I guess we have to do it more often.”

Frankie nods, putting the car in park and flashing her a quick smile. “I guess so.” He starts to get out of the car—leaving it running so that Luciana can stay inside with the tunes playing—but pauses as he holds up a finger and narrows his eyes in concentration. “A pepperoni eight-cut with the Italian parmesan crust?”

“You know me so well, Morales.” She offers a bright smile, one that involuntarily makes Frankie’s chest warm up as he completely gets out of the truck and heads inside. He places their order and waits for it, trying not to drown in his thoughts as he pictures himself flying high above them. He even tries his hand at daydreaming, attempting to envision himself painting his way through the clouds. He can see the world so small beneath him, putting himself in a place where he doesn’t have to think about everything he’s left there. All that would matter is keeping his eyes on the horizon and steering ahead—and maybe even capturing a star when the sun sets.

His daydream’s soon interrupted by the finishing of his order, and he takes the box with a low thank-you before heading back inside the truck. Frankie sets it on the backseat, chuckling when Luciana dramatically inhales the scent of the freshly baked pizza.

“God damn, do they make some heavenly shit here,” Luciana comments, causing Frankie to laugh harder as he starts to head back to the house. “I can’t wait to devour that.”

“That makes two of us,” Frankie agrees, glancing over at Luciana quickly as he drives on.

“Four slices for each of us,” Luciana reminds him. “It’s perfect.”

“Four?” Frankie scoffs playfully. “Last time, you could only handle three.”

“Oh, fuck off, Flyboy,” Luciana retorts. “Last time we also got garlic knots. I can only hold so much at once.”

“Sure, Luce. Sure.” Frankie laughs as Luciana swats at his shoulder, and he sees her shaking her head with a hidden smile as she crosses her arms.

They spend the rest of the drive listening to the tunes of the radio, sitting in an otherwise peaceful silence. It’s not too long until Frankie’s pulling into the long driveway of the house. It’s a respectively large space, split between the boys and Luciana. Everyone’s able to have their own rooms—save for Will and Benny, but Benny usually splits his time up between staying there and staying at the frat house—and they never let it get too crazy. Parties are always held at Benny’s frat house, which helps to keep their own home in shape. If it’s just the six of them, they’ll keep the party to themselves, but otherwise their home is like a sacred space just for their little family. Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just as Frankie’s about to turn the engine off, Luciana stops him, keeping his hand from touching the keys as she shakes her head. “Let’s eat in here,” she suggests, already starting to reach back for the pizza. “I’m really feeling these songs right now.”

“I can turn the radio on in the house,” Frankie reminds her, gesturing with his thumb to the house behind him.

“Yeah, but there’s something about it coming through the truck speakers.” Luciana sets the pizza box down onto the center console, opening it and taking a slice for herself. “It just really hits deep.”

Frankie snorts, also taking a slice and folding it in half. “Alright, but if you get grease stains on my seats, I’ll have no choice but to fucking kill you.”

“You got it, ‘dad,’” Luciana jokes, and Frankie shakes his head as she lets out a laugh. They continue to eat and bop along to the songs that play, mostly accompanied by Luciana’s random commentary on the selections. “Have you ever thought about how fuckin’ creepy this song is?” she reflects when The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” starts playing. “Like, it’s a love song, but he’s basically like ‘I’m always watching you.’ That shit is terrifying.”

“What, you wouldn’t find it romantic if someone was watching you all the time?” Frankie teases her while he moves onto his third piece of pizza, pleased to find that he still hasn’t gotten a grease stain on his jeans yet.

“Hell no!” Luciana lets out a cut laugh, shaking her head as she also goes for her third slice.

“Okay, fair.” Frankie pauses to bite off a piece and chew it up, contemplating his next few words as he does so. “Then, what would you consider romantic?”

“Jesus, there’s like… so many things.” Luciana’s gaze drifts to the roof of the car as she thinks, chewing on her food as she does so. Frankie waits curiously for her response, continuing to eat as he watches her think. “I mean, for starters, you can never go wrong with pulling the gentleman card. You know, like opening doors and pulling out chairs.”

“That’s not cheesy?”

“No! If anything, the fact that it’s going out of style is so depressing to me.” Luciana clicks her tongue and shakes her head, and Frankie can tell by the way she’s narrowed her eyes that she’s thinking again. “Honestly, the most important thing is just knowing what she likes. You gotta make sure you’re playing her favorite songs and bringing her to her favorite places—without her having to tell you ahead of time. Picking up on those hints along the way is so important.”

“Noted.” Frankie finishes off his third piece after he speaks, watching as Luciana raises an eyebrow at him.

“Plan on being romantic anytime soon, Morales?”

Frankie scoffs, shaking his head as he reaches for his last slice. “No, not likely. But it’s good to know.” He shovels a bite into his mouth, hoping it’ll keep him from having to speak again. Frankie soon realizes he’s unsuccessful, as Luciana’s head has now tilted in a curious manner at him. He releases a sigh, waiting until he finishes chewing to go on. “Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to take someone up to the sky with me. Show them the clouds. Catch a star for them.” Frankie shrugs. “Just—y’know—that’s probably not something I’ll have soon.”

Luciana smiles a bit, but Frankie easily sees a hint of darkness in her gaze. “That’s sweet, Frankie. But why don’t you think you can have it soon?”

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat. Why does he think he can’t have it soon? Because he’s not ready to let his heart be taken? Because he’s so guarded that only five other people know his true heart, but still don’t even know all of it? Because he’s denying himself a painful truth? Frankie doesn’t have a fucking clue. But Luciana’s still waiting for an answer, her dark gaze glittering as she waits to take her last slice into her mouth. “Not enough time, I guess. And how can I show someone the sky when I don’t even have my piloting license yet?”

“Fair point,” Luciana agrees, finally digging into her pizza. Frankie holds back a sigh of relief, continuing with his slice as well. They finish off their servings in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of classic rock lull them into a rhythmic state of conscious slumber. Frankie’s thoughts solely drift to the words of the singers, and he pictures himself hearing the songs play as he returns home from piloting school—his mother singing along with them as he shows her his license. She would smile at him in that endearing way she always used to and playfully ask if they can play Journey on their way up when she finally gets to fly with him. I want some Journey on our first journey!, she always used to joke with Frankie. Now, he just tries not to listen to Journey at all.

His trance is broken when Luciana suddenly lets out a gasp, and Frankie feels alert for a moment until he realizes that a new song’s come on the radio. He tunes his ears in and hears the beginning instrumental of Foreigner’s “Waiting For a Girl Like You”—a guilty pleasure song of his that he’s not willing to reveal to anyone else. But it must be Luciana’s, too, because she’s looking at Frankie with excitement in her dark gaze. “This… this is my fuckin’ song,” Luciana tells him, clearing her throat as the lyrics soon come in.

“Of all songs, you chose one of classic rock’s cheesiest?” Frankie jokes.

Luciana places a hand on her chest, pretending to be hurt. “It’s not cheesy. It’s romantic. And it’s an absolute classic.”

Frankie raises his hands in fake surrender. “Alright, Luce, you got me there. Go ahead, freak out.”

Luciana narrows her eyes at him, laughing it off as she starts to let herself jam along. “Maybe I’m wrong, won’t you tell me if I’m comin’ on too strong?”

“This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I wanna be sure…” Frankie murmurs the words under his breath, hoping Luciana won’t hear it over her own singing. He would never hear the end of it.

“I’ve been waiting!... for a girl like you, to come into my life.” Luciana sings the words unashamedly, closing her eyes as she spreads her arms wide. Frankie chuckles lightly—more in admiration of her free spirit than in amusement. Luciana finishes the chorus and shakes her head, looking at Frankie with a raised brow. “I’m telling you. A fuckin’ classic.”

“Hey, I believe you,” Frankie retorts, chuckling as he releases a sigh. He looks around, seeing the dark street around them. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome in this truck. She’s gonna be begging for mercy if we don’t go inside soon.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that,” Luciana confesses, reaching for the empty pizza box. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie assures her. “It was worth it.”

Luciana simply smiles in response, setting Frankie’s chest ablaze yet again as they walk inside the house together. They remain silent as they settle in, soon heading upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Before they part, Luciana stops Frankie for a moment, her hand reaching for his arm. Frankie faces her with his brow raised. “Thank you, Frankie,” she says softly, her dark gaze looking straight into his. “For always being there for me—and getting some damn good pizza with some hella’ good tunes.”

Frankie chuckles softly, shaking his head at her. “You don’t have to thank me, Luci. I enjoy it just as much.”

Luciana widens her smile, bidding Frankie goodnight before she disappears into her room. Frankie bites back his own, entering his room and preparing for bed. He flops down onto it with a sigh, hating the way his mind feels cloudier than usual. He’s being swept by a feeling he’s had before—but it’s starting to almost overpower him now. Frankie’s afraid he won’t be able to ignore it anymore.

The lyrics to the song are stuck in his head. It’s a torturous reminder of himself and his own heart—and that’s why he’s annoyed when the lyrics run through his mind. It feels so right, so warm and true, the words taunt him. I need to know if you feel it too. Does he, though? Because Frankie’s pretty damn certain he’s content with ignoring every feeling he has. He’s been doing it ever since his mother passed—and he’s pretty sure he can keep doing it.

But then he thinks on that chorus: I’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. And Frankie can’t help wondering if that’s exactly what’s happening. As he hides himself underneath his covers to sleep, he hears distant thunder rumble outside, and he smiles for the fact Luciana will get her pluviophile moment—even if she’s asleep.

next part: chapter 2: cold front

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @amarvelousmandalorian @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal

permanent tag list: @mikahid @theforceofdarkandlight @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @lavenderl3mons

#i know it's like 2 am so y'all won't be around for a while #i'm waiting for the mando doc lol #also i love frankie please #my BABY #i'm making up his canon #we'll go with it #frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fic #catfish morales fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

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