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prettyboykatsuki · 7 months ago

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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

THIS IS PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART ONE.

☼ wc ; 16.8k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

☼ synopsis ; you spend the next four years of your life pining miserably and trying to get over your first love. it all comes crashing during the year you turned twenty-one, fresh out of a break-up and forced to reconcile with your estranged childhood friend.

PART TWO: LIGHT MY WAY BACK HOME.

Freshman orientation seems less like an orientation and more like a social gathering.

You’re not really sure why you didn’t think of that. This one is being held by seniors in your department, so you figured they’d talk to you about things like majors or clubs or general campus life.

The presence of alcohol and cigarettes after only thirty minutes is what alerts you of your doom. You’re screwed.

For many reasons and in many ways.

For starters, you’re all the way out in Hokkaido, which is a 19 hour trip from your hometown. You don’t know anyone at school except that one alpha you keep bumping into, and more importantly - you wouldn’t know of any good ways to excuse yourself to leave. You don’t even know where to go if you did.

Secondly, you’re really not interested in drinking again. At least, not for now. The memory of Bachira is strangely fresh despite it being over a year since, and you’re afraid a drop of alcohol is going to make you spiral out and humiliate yourself in front of your peers.

Third, most of the people here seem at least somewhat acquainted with each other. From the introductions at the start, there’s only one other freshman here and he’s already friends with a bunch of people. On top of that, he’s the rowdy alpha type you have a hard time with so you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other thank stick to the wall and hope for the best.

You text Miki-chan as you sit in the corner. Were you always this poor at socializing?

After a few minutes, someone comes and plops themselves next to you. You’re mildly startled by her presence, jumping in your skin. She smells sweet, a mix of overripe mango and something floral. You startle as she crowds in your space, eyes widening.

“You’re the new freshie, right?”

You blink at her then nod. She’s extremely pretty and not entirely Japanese which is common for this campus. “Uh, yes. Nice to meet you…”

“Hira,” She says easily

“Nice to meet you, Hira-senpai.” You bow.

“Oh, how formal! Sure, call me that if you want.” She moves in even closer. You feel your heartbeat skyrocket and feel thankful you’re wearing a scent patch. “You looked a little lonesome in the corner, so I thought I’d come save you. First party like this?”

You’re surprised. “Is it obvious?”

“Mm, not really. But I can tell at least. I’m good at reading people. And I was interested in you,”

You stare at her as she leans against the wall. Long lashes, dyed hair, full lips and a scent so intoxicating you could drown. You feel flush just looking at her, attracted to her undeniably. The look she’s giving you is making you a little delirious.

Your eyes go wide. “Sorry?”

She beams but doesn’t repeat herself. “Are you a beta?”

“An omega,”

You feel her nose brush against your covered scent glands and feel a jolt up your spine. “Oh, you are. You smell good.”

You blink slowly, hesitating. “Thanks.”

“Which way do you swing, then?”

Is she… hitting on you? Then again, she could just be the touchy type like Bachira.

“I prefer omegas. I’ve never dated an alpha seriously.” But I was in love with at least one.

Her eyes light up. “So you swing both ways, or at least you like omegas. Good. My radars rarely wrong. Ever been in a relationship with anyone?”

“Just for a few months in highschool.” You admit.

“Right. Got any experience then?”

She’s…

“Uh, not really no. Kissed and stuff but that’s about it.”

“Eighteen, no experience, and into other omegas…that tracks. You’re not having much fun at this party, either. So, how about…” You feel her hand on your thigh and nearly choke on air. “We change all of that in one go?”

You feel a little guilty. You’re not sure what you should be doing. You never really thought about losing your virginity when you were in school for obvious reasons, and thought of it even less so when you were with Bachira. It’s not like it’s of incredible importance to you. Is it something you should let go of easily? Does it matter?

On the other hand, are you ever going to have a beautiful omega girl older than you offer to take your virginity and it not be an illusion? You’re not really sure if it’s possible. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a eunuch. Some part of you hopes it’ll get your mind off of Bachira.

“I really don’t know what I’m doing, just as uh. As a prerequisite.” You say stiffly.

“Are you a quick learner?”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah,”

“Then you’ll be just fine! Sooo… wanna get out of here?”

Shit. “Uh, y-yeah.”

“Great!”

She grabs your hand, hauling you up and dragging you along with her. Some of the seniors in your department shoot you a look like they’re impressed and you’re not sure if you should be mortified or flattered. “Taking the freshie with me.”She turns to someone who’s name you don’t remember. “Don’t wait up! And don’t come home either.”

Said friend sighs. On the way out, you hear them ask around about sleeping over and feel a little guilty.

She tells you about herself on the way to her place. A short walk from campus, you spend most of it wondering if you’re in some kind of dream. Hira-senpai is mixed but she’s grown up in Sapporo for most of her life.

Half-north indian and half-japanese. Tan skin, brown eyes, and long hair - something about her looks straight out of a dream. She holds your hand on the way to her apartment and talks to you so casually it makes you feel like friends. She’s good at conversation in a way that’s familiar to you, reminds you a lot of Bachira no matter how much you hate making the comparison.

Most of all, she’s an incredibly attractive distraction. She’s just a touch taller than you but she’s got long legs and nice assets, with curves in all the right places. She’s toned too. She dresses nice and smells so good. Has all the flair of an omega that makes your heart race.

Once you get up to her apartment, she wastes no time in getting you into her bedroom.

Kissing someone with the intention of having sex is different than whatever you were doing in highschool. Hira is well practiced in how she touches you, strips you naked, admires you.

She’s aggressive with you but you don’t mind. You end up in her bed faster than you thought you’d be. She kisses with with tongue, teeth nipping at your lips and neck as she whispers to you all sorts of things about likes and dislikes. You learn how to use your mouth and how hard to suck, and smooth your tongue along her scent glands in the ways to turn her on.

You find you don’t mind touching her. You like making her feel good. She gets wet for you and talks to you sweet. Intoxicating, you let her play with you as she pleases without words of complaint. You make her cum once, then again because you like how she grips onto your hair. Her praise is nice when you make her cum. It feels good when she returns the favor even though you feel embarrassed the entire time.

You fuck until sunrise and sleep in her bed. When morning comes, you find her wrapped around your with your body covered in unfamiliar nips of teeth. She tells you to stay for breakfast.

You feel like you walked the stairwell to adulthood a little too quickly. But it’s the longest you spent not thinking about the past

So you stay with her. You sit up and open your phone.

(sent 9:34am) just lost my virginty to my omega senpai. uni is weird

9:35am: You have 24 new notifications.

[ NINETEEN ]

“Do you wanna become club manager?”

You shoot a surprised glance at Satou-kun, one of your only alpha friends on campus and captain of your university soccer team. You’re currently in the club room, reviewing footage of their opposing team before they start training for the inter-collegiate tournaments.

This is a favor you’re doing for Satou-kun as a part of him helping you find board and housing all the way out here. Your current university had been your last choice despite being incredibly prestigious as a result of extra-curricular and exceptionally good marks for years of highschool.

You were supposed to be staying in a dorm room but there was some trouble in the office and no space left in the omega-beta dorms for you to stay at.

You met Satou-kun crying outside of the 7/11 near your campus, dropped down to your knees in pre-heat distress. Satou is from the countryside. A big, lumbering 6’4 alpha who apparently can’t leave people alone in times of need, especially not crying omegas. He bought you a meal and helped you find room and board temporarily before later finding you an apartment near campus.

In short, you owe him a lot. Insistent on paying him back, you’ve spent a lot of time helping out their soccer team doing this and that. Once, off-handedly during their practice, you’d helped one of their other team mates out with their dribbling and have since then become a psuedo-member.

You don’t really have any interest in soccer. Or at least, you didn’t for the first eighteen years of your life. Maybe it’s because you’re so far from home, but there’s something about seeing them play that feels familiar and fulfills an old itch.

Still, you’re not really expecting the offer. You’ve only known Satou-kun for a few months and you’ve known his team for even less.

“Uh. I’ve never been a sports team manager, so I don’t know if I’d be any good.”

“Seriously?” He sits next to you in a chair backwards, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You know a lot about soccer though?”

You swallow. “A friend—sorry, an old friend of mine plays. My nii-san did too but that was way back. I’ve just been around it a lot.”

He gives you a long look, brushing past the very obvious shake in your voice. You like that part of him, you think. “I think it’s fine. The team likes you. You’re meticulous and do well under pressure.” He takes a drink from his water bottle. “Plus I think the guys would be more motivated with a pretty omega manager. At least they’d wanna impress you.”

You blink. He says it so neutrally you almost don’t catch it.

“Thanks?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just an observation,” Satou says, shaking his head. “I think you’d be an asset to the team. There’s no one else who can mediate with coach like you can.”

Your lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “That’s true,”

Your thoughts end up at Bachira as you consider the offer. Lips furled into a frown, something heavy weighs on your heart. You’ve gotten better at not letting him consume your every waking thought. Being busy has helped. But soccer is the one thing that reminds you of Bachira most. You’re not really opposed to being manager. You just don’t know if it’ll be too much. You’re not enough of a masochistic to say yes without hesitation. The painful, constant reminder of him through being manager just feels overwhelming.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two years, except on T.V. or in the news, doing exactly what you thought he would. You’ve put so much effort into getting over him but it feels like you’ve hardly made progress.

You sigh.

“Can I give you my answer later? After I consider it more?”

“Sure. If it isn’t too invasive though,” He leans into looking closer. “Can I ask what’s making you hesitate? I’d guess it’s that childhood friend but,”

You blink in surprise. “Yeah. That obvious?”

He shakes his head. “Got a nose like a hound, granny always said. Could feel the change even with the strong patches and inhibitors.”

“Ah,” You look down at your lap. “My friend and I had a pretty bad falling out. Think it was two years ago now, but I’m just worried it’ll bring up bad memories.”

“You cared about him a lot, huh?”

You aren’t sure what brings you to say it out loud. “I was in love with him. Basically my whole life.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to anyone. It doesn’t feel as horrible as you expected.

“Was he an omega?”

You give him a humorless smile, shaking your head. “An alpha.”

He blinks in realization before nodding.

“Must’ve been someone special then,” Satou scratches the back of his neck. “I can’t tell you I understand it but you know. Maybe being our manager can help give you some better memories than what you left with. With time.”

“I know it probably sounds ridiculous. Two years is a long time.” You reply back.

“Huh? Hardly.” Satou looks at you directly when he speaks. “Don’t force yourself to get over it. I know you’re the worrying type, but sometimes it’s fine to just let things go as they are.You have to keep living your life right?”

“Right,”

“So don’t think of it in negative terms like getting over it. Do it if it’s something you might want to do. If it gets too much I’ll support you as captain or let you leave. You can make new memories here. It’s an opportunity, that’s all”

You give Satou-kun a small smile. “Satou-kun…you’re a good guy. You’ll find a good wife.”

“You sound like granny,” He says. “If you’re ever interested in becoming farmers wife in the country side, you’re always welcome to take the position up.”

“Are you joking?”

“No.” He says, standing up. His tone is unreadable. “You’d be good at it. You’re strong with good attention to detail so I think the work would be easy for you. Plus you’re after a quiet life, aren’t you?”

“This is a bad proposal,” You deadpan, shaking your head. “And most omegas would be pissed if you told them they look good to work on a farm.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“This is why you’re not popular.” You retort with a small chuckle. “If I ever decide to marry an alpha and give up on everything, I’ll find you. For now, I’ll have to decline the proposal. But I’ll accept becoming manager.”

Satou-kun claps your shoulder. “Eh. I’ll take it,” Your eyes meet. “If you change your mind on either thing, just let me know.”

“Of course. Thanks, captain.”

“Anytime.”

“Are you sure you want this?”

Hira-senpais roomate, Shinohara, busies himself with sterilizing needles. You glance at yourself in the mirror in their bathroom, red-rimmed eyes making you feel pathetic. You really want something to do.

Drink, smoke, something. But you’re not trying to start on using substances when thinking of Bachira since you’re sure it’ll kill you. You just need the distraction. The game is still playing in the background in the other room, so when you hear the channel change and feel thankful to whoever shifted it.

You rub your eyes with the end of your hand, voice hoarse. “Yeah. And I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“You’re still this hung up on that kid? Whatever his name was,” He snaps his fingers. “Bee boy.”

You huff. “Yeah.”

“Have you tried dating other people?” He suggests.

Shinohara pours rubbing alcohol onto something before wiping your ear with it on both sides. It’s cold and makes you shiver. “No. Never been interested,”

“Don’t you think it’s about time you get interested?” He uses a marker next, placing a dot carefully before assessing it. He repeats the process on the other side. “I mean, if just seeing him on T.V. is enough to do this to you after all this time… You barely react to anything, like a damn stone statue. Yet, here you are.”

“It’s not just that,” You sniffle again. Shinohara-kun gives you a disbelieving look in the mirror, shaking his head. It’s not just the fact you saw Bachira, but that you keep seeing him exceed your expectations. In news magazines, in articles, in ads for sports drinks. What broke you was seeing him on the news after seeing him earlier in a magazine for the greatest talents to come out of Bluelock, with speculation in his potential to become the greatest striker alive.

You’ve done a good job not thinking about him. You even got used to the press when you went to your hometown and saw him plastered on posters. But it dawns on you he’s still living his dreams and he’s not even twenty yet.

And you play no part in them. You bite your lip trying not to cry.

“I’m not piercing you if you keep shaking,” Shinohara says with no real bite. A gloved hand wipes your tear. “So toughen up, brat.”

“Stop calling me that. You’re only a few years older than me,”

“Stop acting like one and I’ll consider. Now take a deep breath. It’s gonna hurt pretty bad, alright? If you jolt I’m gonna kill you.”

“Stop worrying about me.” You sniff, wiping your nose. “I’m fine”

He rolls his eyes. “Then count to three and take a deep breath.”

[ TWENTY ]

“I’m home!”

Your face is cold from the winter air as you step inside. You shake off the snow from your body as you wipe your face, exhaustion settling in from the long travel. It’s not your first winter break home but even after two years you can’t get used to the distance

You leave your bag and luggage at the door as you strip out of your jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook. You sigh in relief, mind drifting off to thoughts of sitting in the kotatsu and warming up while you let your brain rot from television. You only have so many days break before you have to travel back to Sapporo. You glance at the shoe rack and notice a single pair of loafers. Your parents are probably grocery shopping. You always have hotpot the day before New Years.

There’s only one other person that leaves. You raise your voice louder as you call out again.

“Nii-san, I’m home.”

“In the living room,”

You stretch your arms over your head, sweater sliding over your stomach as you walk into the living room to see him spread over the couch watching something on the T.V. Looks like some kind of comedy variety show.

“Hey,”

You make a noncommittal noise, beelining to the kotatsu in the center of the room, sliding yourself underneath with a long sigh. Nii-san laughs behind you.

“Still snowing?”

“Got worse in the last hour,” You prop your elbows on the table, laying on your arms with a loud yawn. “My bags wet so I left it in front of the door.”

He hums as the two of you continue to watch T.V. in comfortable silence. You feel his gaze on your back for a while before turning around slightly to look at him. “What are you looking at?”

“Did you get your ears pierced?”

You blink. “Yeah. My helix and upper lobe on both sides.”

He stares at you for a long while after you tell him, leaving you confused. It’s rare you see your brother these days. He’s twenty-nine this year. He’s scruffy, face prickly with hair and hair grown out longer than normal. Eyes squinted, you feel his hand pull at the collar of your sweater before peering down at your back.

“When did you get a tattoo?”

Surprised, you pull away from his grasp frowning. “Same time I got my piercings.”

“What for?”

“I just wanted to get them,” You say, fidgeting with your.

“Well, it’s fine.” He says after a while, voice softened. His hand comes up to your head, patting it like you’re a kid again. You squirm away from the touch and sudden affection. You don’t know if you’ll ever properly figure out what’s on his mind. “You’re such a goody two-shoes kid a little rebellion won’t hurt. Kaa-san’s gonna freak over the tattoo though.”

“I won’t be here long enough for her to find out I don’t think. And even if she does, it’s not like I can get it removed now. It’s usually covered up enough that no one noticed.”

“I saw it cause of the way you were sitting, so don’t worry about it.” He says, patting your shoulder. “What’s the tattoo of?”

You frown, turning away with a flush. “…A bumble bee on a kuroyuri flower.”

“A bee huh? Should kill that stupid brat.”

“Nii-san!” You shake your head. “I already told you the fight was my fault. Don’t use it as a reason for your grudge, okay?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re twenty right?”

You nod. Nii-san grabs a beer from the plastic bag besides him, cracking the top open before handing it to you with a long look. “Here,”

You take the beer from his hand and take a drink from the top, malt hitting your lips and warming you up from the inside. “…Thanks.”

“If you’re gonna go out of your way to defend him even now, just text him and make up already,”He says, shaking his head. “The piercings, the tattoo… all that was to get over him, huh?”

You feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious you were hung up on Bachira this way? He always had a weird sixth sense about things, so maybe not. “It doesn’t matter.”

He sighs. “It does matter. If you care this much, there’s no way it doesn’t. Don’t be obstinate and figure things out with him.”

“Even if I could do that,” Which I can’t, ever. “He’s rarely home anyways, and I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”

“You’re a smart kid but sometimes you’re so oblivious it makes me feel bad. Was it because you’re sheltered? You have no common sense.”

“Hey!”

“I know you’re just being careful but there’s no need to this extent. You two were attached at the hip for almost two decades. There’s no way he’d forget even if he’s a famous soccer player right now. Just make up with him.” He says, then sighs before giving you a serious look. “But seriously don’t marry him. I’ll kill you both.”

“I told you he likes alphas.”

“And you like him, despite liking omegas, right?”

You make a noise of indignance “That’s different,”

“It’s not. I don’t care about him but don’t be a coward. You’re a lot tougher than that as is and it doesn’t suit you at all.”

You turn your eyes to the T.V. pretending to watch it while deep in thought.

You don’t know. It’s been three years since you and Bachira stopped being friends but the wound doesn’t feel any more healed than it did last time. There are longer stretches of time in between that you can without feeling like the world is collapsing underneath you, but you’re not over it despite your best efforts. Maybe it’s true you haven’t truly tried hard enogh. Your last conversation was messy at best, a rushed outro to a life long friendship without any real closure.

But you don’t think you’re owed closure. What’s more, you don’t even know what you’d say. There’s both so much and so little you want to tell him.

I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Who takes care of you now that I’m gone? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

But how do you have that conversation? You’ve never been good at being upfront with your feelings. You keep to yourself, keep your head down, and get lucky to be around people who do it for you.

Even if you were to get closure now, could you handle it? You were never under the impression Bachira could love you, but at least now you can be open about it. At least now, you can tell people when they ask you about love and confess it like some sort of sin. The first time you told Satou-kun that truth, it felt like a weight had finally been unburdened. To become friends again now would mean you bear that silence of that again while you try to fall out of love, or you confess to it him and make things hard on you both.

You don’t want either outcome. You just want Bachira to be your friend. And you want things to be easy. You’re not seventeen anymore. You have school, work, clubs - things that you still need to be present for.

You can’t handle the heartbreak of that loss twice. It’d kill you.

Maybe, someday, when you’re really over it - you’ll reach out to Bachira as friends. Another two years so it’s been at least five, and you’re closer to graduation than you are to highschool.

For now though, the idea of seeing Bachira again is painful at best and stupid at worst.

“I need more time,” You reply after a while. “To get over it more. I don’t want to meet him when I’m still this… emotional about it.”

Nii-san sighs, over you. “Fine. If you say so. Drink your little heart out over it but when the time comes, dont’ miss your chance alright? Promise me.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“You little—just promise.”

“Fine, fine,” You fall forward again on your kotatsu - waving a dismissive hand. “Promise.”

“I can’t believe my favorite heat partner went and got a boyfriend on me,”

Hira-senpai slides herself across from you in the booth in front of you. You glance up from your laptop just barely too greet her as Shinohara joins the both of you. Shaking your head, you take stock of your surroundings quickly. The cafeteria at the bottom floor of the mathematics building is still just as empty as it was when you came in.

“Where did you two just back from?”

“A seminar thing for senior capstone.” Shinohara answers. You make a short ahhh sound before continuing on with your typing.

“Don’t just ignore me, both of you!” Hira insists. Your lips quirk up at the corners.

“Stop announcing that we have sex so loudly and I’ll consider it.”

“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you got confessed too and you said yes! And you only told me through text!!”

“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t even on campus so I couldn’t tell you in person.”

She pouts, dipping a fry into ketchup as she props her elbows up on the table.

“Whatever. I want details!”

“It was that huge omega guy on the soccer team, right? What was his name again…?”

You furrow your brow. “How do you know that?”

“I know everything.” He says seriously. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah it was. Takahashi-kun. He confessed to me as soon as I got back from visiting home over winter break in the club room. Gave me flowers and everything.”

“Flowers? What a serious guy. Are all the soccer club guys like that?”

You grimace. “I think all soccer players are predispositioned to have something just a little wrong with them. Him being chivalrous is fine, all things considered.”

“Hm. True.”

“Sooo, did you just say yes right away? That’s super unlike you!”

“Huh? No, of course not. I told him upfront that I’m still getting over someone so I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” You say, typing away at your computer. “But he said he didn’t care and wanted to date me anyways.”

“What a weird guy.” Shinohara hums thoughtfully.

“He’s that into you?!”

You nod. “I guess so. I asked why it had to be me and he said something I didn’t catch. Just that he thought I’d be a good partner and accept an omega like him. Which I guess is true.”

Shinohara chuckles. “You sound so enthused.”

You shrug. “It’s not like I lied. He’s a good guy, I know that. And I mean. Not like I have anything to lose. You guys are the ones telling me to try and move on.”

They both say “True,” at the same time, making you shake your head.

“So you’re gonna date him seriously?”

“I’m gonna try,” You reply with a long sigh. “I really just want to move on.”

You date Takahashi-kun for a year.

It’s a good year, and a good relationship.

He’s good to you in all ways that matter. He still believes in old timey traditional of courting and courts you like an omega might an alpha despite you not being one. Brings you food he’s made and other handmade ornaments. He’s taller than most omega men. A little over six feet and muscular with a sharp jaw but the roundest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Often, he asks you if you’re fine with him. Comes into your arms and weeps into your neck, scent sweet like fresh cream as he apologizes for not being cute. Takahashi is more omega than you are. Shows submission and pleasure in the textbook ways you see only in books and pornography. He’s kind and doe-eyed and timid. He’s easy to talk to. He’s attractive. Sharing heat together always feels pleasurable and warm.

Alphas like him. Mostly alpha women. And you like Takahashi too, while you date him. He’s tender and thoughtful - easy to read and easy to treat well. The relationship is never something worthy of complaint.

Which is why you break up with him before you leave for winter break the next year. You explain it all to him and feel incredibly disheartened when he cries. Takahashi is the poster image for what makes a good omega. And because he is so good, so kind, so caring - it’s unfair to continue to be with him when you know you can’t grow to love him the way he loves you.

If a year in your ideal theoretical relationship can’t be enough to cauterize the wound of your heartbreak, there’s probably nothing else that will except time. Even hysterical, you relay all of this to Takahashi as best you can. You don’t regret being with him, because he’s taught you plenty of things.

It’s because he’s taught you so much that you’re able to break up with him at all instead of remaining comfortable and impassive. Because you know the depth of another persons unconditional love and because you also grow to love Takahashi. You love him in a different way than he loves you, and you leave because it’s unfair. It’s the first year of your life that has felt long and meaningful since you and Bachira parted ways four years prior.

So you split with him, and tell him everything on your mind. And because Takahashi is a good person who loves you unconditionally - it hurts you both, even though he accepts. He asks that if someday, you think you might change your mind to call him. He asks to be friends.

You promise to him both, and then tell him again that you hope someone better will be there for him and that you love him even if it’s not like that.

The day you break up with Takahashi, you have to take a train ride three hours long to get to the airport where you’ll board a short flight, then make the hours long venture back to your hometown.

You’re fine for the duration. You don’t cry often anyway. It’s fine until your phone buzzes with the notification that F.C. Barcha has won a tournament match and will proceed to the next World Cup Qualifiers.

And then, like clockwork, you sob into your hands on an empty train - heart so full of longing you could nearly throw up.

You think, breaking up with Takahashi-kun was the right choice.

You think, I miss him.

You heart doesn’t name who exactly you miss. That name is written all over it anyways.

[ TWENTY-ONE ]

For the first few days of your winter break, none of your family is in your house for you to hang around.

This is something you’ve always been used to. Your parents have been on a trip in Kyoto and won’t be back until after new years and nii-san is working a lot of overtime until about the same. You have a copy of your house keys so you have a place to stay, and you’ve made some shrine plans with Miki and Sasaki since you’re back home.

They’re both still busy until the thirtieth though, so until then you have nothing to do.

Today is the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas. You’re home early since all of your classes finals lined up in the short-span of three days. It was stressful but you’re thankful for the extended few days that allowed you to go home early.

Yu-san has insisted you spend some time with her instead of being by yourself. You always spend a day or two at her house during your winter breaks and have since you left for college. After your eighteenth birthday, it just felt like the right thing to do.

You bring her something every year when you visit, and sometimes you stay over night. She treats you like her own, and fills you in about Bachira from time to time.

In honor of upholding tradition, you decide to go see her a little early this year. Before you enter the familiar and cramped space of Yu-sans apartment - you always buy her a nice bouquet of flowers, a box of sweets, and an expensive bottle of sake. You have a gift for her too, some souvenirs from Hokkaido like always.

You stop by your house first to drop off your things and lock up before walking the short distance to your childhood friends home in the winter air.

You’ve been too often to knock after all, instead opting to text Yu-san and let her know that you’re there. You wait outside until she responds, giving you the go-ahead.

yu oba-san (sent 9:57pm): the door is open but i had to step out for a bit. make yourself comfortable.

You gather your things up in one hand and tucking the flowers carefully in your arms to open the door. Your bag of gifts and drinks lands on the floor with a soft clunk as you set it down besides you, balancing flowers on the small cabinet near the entryway. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it, you force your feet out of your winter boots, eyes searching around for the right pair of slippers.

When you go to put your boots up on the shoe rack, you notice that there’s an unfamiliar pair of sneakers. You notice it too late. Mens sneakers.

A faint scent of burnt honey.

You shake your head trying to shake the thoughts away. The likelihood of it being Bachira is so slim you wonder why you’re considering. The match for F.C. Barcha took place in Spain. It takes a day of travel to get to Japan, so you guess it’s possible. Even so, you think it’d be more likely he comes during New Years. It’s not guaranteed he’ll have enough time to even come home every year. He did two years back from what you know but not since then.

You gather your things again. First the small bag you keep your personal stuff in, then the bags you’ve brought for Yu-san, and finally the flowers in your arm.

You decide against announcing yourself since you suspect you’re the only there.

Except you’re not.

The whole world feels like it’s collapsing underneath your feet to see Bachira in flesh, tucked into the couch of his childhood home the same way he used to when you were kids - with both legs folded up and his chin resting on his knee.

A shock of yellow hair, eyes gemstone gold and a stronger scent. Bachira. Meguru.

You startle and think of what to do. What excuse you can make. How you can tiptoe your way out of the room and catch the breath that he steals away from your lungs.

No such luck. Bachira is perceptive as always, noticing you before you get a chance to slip away.

“Oh,” He murmurs. He’s taller. Just a bit, you think. “It’s you,”

Your heart is thudding, blood rushing to your ears and face as you stare at him. You can barely feel your legs, weakness in your knees nearly making you buckle. Frozen stiff in place, you blink once, twice before nodding. You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Uhm,” You don’t know what to do. “Yeah. I came to visit Yu-san.”

He nods back.

“She told me I should come over as soon as I can.” Bachira says. He feels unfamiliar. His hair is longer, but styled up and his ear lobes are pierced. He looks so much older yet so much the same. “My team mate dropped me off with his jet so I made it in a day.”

Ah. Was it planned? She’s like your nii-san in how much she wants you two to reconcile. “Makes sense.” You flounder. Awkward silence falls so you try to come up with anything to say. Your hands are sweaty. “ Uh..Congratulations on your win, by the way.”

He looks surprised. “Do you keep up with soccer these days?”

Just for you. “A bit. Out of habit, I guess. And I’m the soccer teams manager at uni.”

Surprised, he blinks in silence for a while.

“Oh. Well,” Suddenly, he beams. It’s no doubt forced and it breaks you into a thousand pieces though you try not to let it show on your face. Try not to let the omega part of you whimpering for approval too obvious. He smiles at you “Don’t be a stranger on my behalf! You should put your stuff down and sit. We should uhm..catch up!”

You make a face at him that you know is pained, but nod anyways. The tension in the air is so thick as you slide to the other side of the room, putting the flowers and other gifts on the kitchen counter.

Four years. Four years. How are you supposed to act?

“Uh,” You call from the kitchen, hoping the nerves in your voice aren’t obvious. “Do you uhm, maybe want something to drink? I brought alcohol and I think there’s beers in your fridge.”’

Your eyes meet from the living room to where you stand behind the counter. He shrugs, giving you a lighthearted smile.

“Mm. My nutritionist might get pissed but whatever! Why not you know? A beer would be good, thanks!”

You nod and try to do the same - keeping the conversation as light as you can. You repeat that it’s fine like a mantra.

“Is beer not too bitter for you? I bought chuhai cans. There’s a pineapple flavor,”

The question is innocent enough to you, but you realize seconds later the intimacy of it. Four years or not, you were Bachira’s friend your entire life so it’d be weirder not to know and even weirder not to at least ask. It’s an extension of courtesy no matter how unnecessary, and plus - you’re known for being a little too obsessed with the details. Bachira prefers sweet things and likes canned pineapple. You’re sure you picked it up out of habit.

When you look up at Bachira, he looks nearly ready to cry. It startles you so much you jolt out of your skin. He turns away. “Haha…You remembered,”

A pang of concern makes leaves you standing in place. There’s no way you would’ve forgotten. “Oh uhm. Sorry. Is that weird for you?” You explain, trying not to overstep any boundaries. “If me being too familiar is making you uncomfortable then—“

“It’s not that,” He insists seriously. “I was trying to keep it together but I can’t after that,” He lets out a loud sob suddenly. Your eyes widen. Several waves of emotion pass over you at the same time. “I missed you…hicc, why would you remember that…sniff,”

You soften, shoulder slumped with endured longing.

“I missed you too,”

“Liar,” He hiccups again, crying in full hysterics this time. You shuffle back to the living room to join him on the opposite side of the couch, placing the bag of drinks on the coffee table and reaching a hand over to squeeze his knee. “You haven’t talked to me in four years. You didn’t miss me at all but you remember something so dumb. You’re always like that. You’re so….”

You frown. Does he really think you didn’t miss him?

“It wasn’t like that,”

“Then explain it to me now! Hasn’t it been long enough…dont you…!” He exclaims, pulling his hands from his face. You can’t contain your surprise about the reaction though you understand it completely. You feel similar. You’ve convinced yourself the entire time that any relationship you had with each other was completely one-sided. Assuming he would move on fine without you now that there were people in his life he could call friends. Still, it’s so unusual to see evidence of it not being true. “You never explained anything to me you just..” He sniffs “Left me. I thought you didn’t care anymore but…”

His display of genuine sadness makes you feel horrible.

You press your lips together in a thin line, reaching into the bag for a tall can of beer and cracking it open before having a drink so it numbs your nerves.

Your stomach is twisted up in a knot so tight you kind of feel sick. There’s no way around the conversation now. You can’t bear to see him cry so much, so you should at least clear up the understanding.

Leaned forward, elbows on knees - you keep your eyes focused in front of you, keenly aware of Bachira adjacent to you on the couch wiping his eyes.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you, I just uh,” You swallow a lump in your throat until it smooths out. “I just have stuff I want to get over before we could be proper friends again. I wanted to reach out to you a lot. It wasn’t like I stopped caring about you after we fought,”

“You hated me for lying to you and being an alpha right? Wasn’t that what you had to get over in the first place?”

Your eyes go wide. “No, uh. It’s complicated. I didn’t uhm, hate you for lying about it. I was shocked sure but you are—were my best friend. I did distrust alphas for a long time and I still don’t really like them… but it didn’t matter to me. I told you then too but I didn’t hate you it was just,”

You chuckle nervously, running your thumb on the rim of the can. “It felt wrong to keep being your friend. Not knowing something so basic. The fact you felt like you couldn’t tell me. It was more like I was too ashamed to keep calling you my best friend.

“You… Really?”

You nod. “And uh, I didn’t want to reach out to you again until i got over some personal stuff.”

“You big dummy,” He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “It wasn’t like that at all…. Even back then, I knew you wouldn’t have hated me just for being an alpha,” He hiccups another sob. “I was just so scared you would that I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would start treating me different and we’d stop being close if you found out I wasn’t an omega. You’re such a good person, how come you think of yourself like that? Why do you think…hicc”

“Sorry,” You mumble, unsure of what to say.

It feels like a great weight has been lifted up off your chest.

“Stop apologizing, dummy. Stupid.”

You give him a wobbly smile.

“What did you have to get over that you couldn’t talk to me for four years?” He huffs. “If it wasn’t me being an alpha, what was it?”

Your eyes widen, heart rate picking up so rapidly you can only pray he doesn’t hear it. You swallow spit, teeth sinking into your cheek. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

You’ve thought about this conversation before hundreds of times. Often. How it would go, what you would say if you ever got the chance to say it. But having the opportunity to confess right in front you makes it all feel hundreds of miles away.

Your mind has filled in the details each time with it going so badly. Bachira’s face, disgusted with you or otherwise unsettled always sears itself in your psyche so strong you bite your tongue. You always found him a little unsettled by you in you thoughts. Disgusted with you for liking him so much even knowing he’s not into omegas. You don’t want your own cowardice or misunderstanding to get in the way of being honest with him after so long.

You would’ve waited two more years to even speak to him had you been given a choice. But now with him in front of you, how could you possibly do that? It’s the universes way of ripping the band-aid off, you think. Such a tricky outcome can only being ordained by faith.

“Well, I uhm, I was—am, in love with with you. Since we were kids so uhm, after we split ways I couldn’t really apologize. I w-wanted to get along with you again for a long time but I couldn’t…” You shake your head, refusing to see his expression. Terrified that what you’ll see is disappointment. “I wanted to sort my feelings out first so I could approach you honestly, I guess. I k-know you like alphas, so I’m not expecting anything really! I just wanted t-to ease the burden on myself a bit instead of hiding.”

There’s a long, long stretch of silence. It feels like forever.

“You’re in love with me? But you like omegas don’t you?”

“Not exclusively I guess? I h-haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve never been with another alpha but my feelings for you are real. I know it’s burdensome to hear that but—”

“It’s not burdensome,” He cuts you off instantly. Your eyes widen slightly. His expression has completely changed. “Are you being serious? You’re in love with me? Since we were kids? Even after finding out I’m an alpha?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That was also part of the reason. Learning you were an alpha brought up questions. Uhm. Anyways. It’s been four years and I still can’t get over it so I didn’t want to put myself through that again. I hope it’ll make you believe that I don’t hate you at least,”

“You still love me, then.” He says softly. “Right?”

You flush, wondering why he’s asking. “Yeah. Same as always.”

He covers his face with his hands, suddenly grinning. Your eyes grow wide at that openly. “Aaaah!! I’m so happy I could die right now.”

“Bachira?”

“You big dummy. You should’ve told me before. How come you’re the only one in the entire world who didn’t know?”

“S-sorry?”

For the first time in this entire conversation, you let yourself look at Bachira who’s positively beaming at you. You blink rapidly, feeling suddenly deeply unsure of yourself and your surroundings.

“I love you too, stupid,” He says, sniffling. “Since we were practically babies.” He sniffles again, more tears streaming down his face. “Uwah, I can’t stop crying, I’m so happy.”

“But you…don’t you also like…?”

“Alphas? Yeah I do,” Bachira hums happily. “I’ve never been with an omega. And I’m not really that interested in them, either. I’m clingy you know? And selfish. You were the exception. My one and only omega.”

You cover your face with your hands.

“What’s wrong?” Bachira asks.

You laugh. “I’m so happy I think I could die.” You mimic. Tears wet your lashes with unusual swiftness. “I never thought in a million years you would ever like me back. It wasn’t even a possibility for me.”

It feels completely surreal. You want to pinch yourself. If it’s a dream, you want to thank whatever power is responsible for making it such a pleasant one and you never want to wake up from it. He…Bachira loves you. The way you love him. It feels so impossible. Your mind can’t catch up, leaving you slack jawed.

“Me too,” He hums lovingly. “Ahh, I don’t know if I should cry or shout.”

“You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

His grin is crooked. “Then you should do something to keep me quiet,”

Your face grows hot at the sudden implication. You’re not a virgin but the idea is immediately too stimulating for you to act normally. “What’s with that…”

“You’re acting like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He teases. You shoot him a sharp look.

Your eyes go down at your lap. “Don’t tease me. I want too, I just don’t know if I can,”

You feel Bachira move over to you. He sits himself besides you on the couch, tucking himself against your side and moving himself to look at your face where you’re ducked down. You can feel the tingling in your skin at the proximity. Overbearing alpha scent that feels like a tight hug only because it’s Bachira.

“How can I not tease you when you’re being so cute, hm?” He hums. He’s so close to you. “You normally don’t react to anything but then you behave timid like this. It’s so cute. Don’t act shy and kiss me already. Or at least let me kiss you,”

“Bachira…” You murmur, trying not to explode.

“Ehhh?? That’s not my name.”

You laugh a little, picking your head up. “Meguru,”

“Better!”

You laugh again, helplessly happy. There’s no word in any language tantamount to what you feel - this much you’re sure of. Embarrassment doesn’t subside quickly but seeing Bachira in front of you makes you happy enough to try look forward. He looks older, somehow. His smile is familiarly boyish, sharpened teeth and piercing eyes even stronger than before.

Pointed, predatory - lidded eyes meet yours. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, unable to form words to say yes but wanting it so terribly.

The second kiss you ever share with Bachira in your life is exactly like him. Overwhelming. A hard press of lips followed by his tongue sliding across the soft seam of your mouth, coaxing you open until he can slip his tongue in. Immediately salacious and hot, the kind of kiss you can only have in total privacy. The intentions of it are obvious. Your body singes at the feeling, immediately burdened with the weight of life-longing wantings as you kiss him. Deep and melty, your hands reaching for his waist body urging you to pull him closer.

You feel something tingling at the base of your spine as Bachira slides his tongue against yours hotly. Wet muscle tracing your mouth, drawing lines over every inch like he’s trying to devour you whole from the inside.

The scent of him drives you insane. He’s so close. It’s suffocating - rich, homey burnt honey and amber with something spiced clouding your mind as you breathe him through hot panting breaths and kisses and kisses. Wetness grows between your legs, the skin under your clothes starting to itch.

You’ve had years now to understand your heat. You know exactly when it’s coming, when it starts and how it feels. You’re not due for another few weeks but you know what your body is experiencing like the back of your hand. Bachira won’t stop kissing you long enough to let you warn him, tongue busy lapping at your lips. He swallows the little noises you make. You put your hands on his shoulders as you push him away, chest heaving through unbearably labored breaths.

A whimper in your subconscious - animal in nature, whines at you indignant. Inner omega burdened with desire and overwhelmingly craving the alpha so readily available. Estrus symptoms rush you strongly as your eyes droop, pressing your legs together hard so no slick makes a mess on the couch.

“Meguru,” You breathe out, barely. “My heat.”

“Was it soon?”

You shake your head. “I t-think you triggered it,” You huff, keeping your hand on his shoulder and wincing at the way your body keens.

His eyes fill with excitement. “Are you saying you wanted me so bad I made your heat come early?”

“Don’t say it so..haah… blatantly.”

He shivers, scent and pheromones releasing even stronger than before. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder as he overwhelms you. He leans in close to you, teeth nipping at your jaw - fangs dragging feather light on your scent glands.

“It doesn’t seem like you want to stop you know?” He murmurs the words against your neck, eliciting a low whine.

“Yu-san is supposed to be coming back.”

“She won’t for a while. It’s already this late, I bet she’s doing something else,”

“You don’t know that though,” You reason. He hums happily, nonplussed about all of it.

“Are you worried she’ll walk in? I can always fuck you upstairs. In my old room. She won’t catch us if you’re quiet,” His voice has a rasp to you you’ve never heard before. It’s usually smooth and upbeat, but there’s grit to it now that has you buckling at the knees. “I’m your alpha right? I should take care of you.”

“Who said you were my…?”

He gives you a serious look before you can get the rest of the words out. “Do you really think I’d let you be with somebody other than me now that I know? Don’t you think that’s silly?”

The predatory hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. A gazelle in the maw of a lion, you wonder if all prey animals tremble violently when they at risk of being eaten. There’s such a thing as survival instinct, but there are abnormalities and exceptions. Bachira bears his fangs you, a blatant claim of his possession - teeth nearly drawing blood on the thin skin of your neck and you think to yourself you want him to eat you. To split you apart and lick you up down to bone, until your vision clouds with nothing but the sight of his hunger.

You want it so much you gasp, a bolt of lightning crackling through each of your veins. You shake your head obedient to your own want.

“My alpha,” You try the words out, heaven on your tongue. A claim. “My Meguru,”

“Yours forever. Always yours,” He hums, contented with the show of submission. “Oh, baby. I’ll take such good care of you know? Knot you nice and pretty. You’ll like I promise. Even alphas like taking my knot,” His hand slides under neath your sweater, slides just between the edge of your stockings and your bare skin. “But you’re an omega—my omega, and you’re perfect so you’ll love it won’t you?”

You feel drunk on the euphoria. Lust, lovesickness, lenience, all of them make you want to melt entirely. It’s so unlike you. During other heats with other people, you always managed to anchor yourself somehow. You want to blame it on your biology.

You’re hardwired to want this in some ways.

But now you’re old enough to know there’s more to it. More to why his touch is safe. What’s etched into your bones is Bachira’s name only. Only him. His knot, his alpha instinct, his fangs - they’re what transforms you into something beyond yourself. You want the alpha in Bachira, want him to sink his teeth into softness you’ve always kept inside of him only.

“Want you,” You confess between bitten lips “Meguru, want you so bad,”

Nothing in your life has ever been so true. No words you’ve spoken have bore as much weight as that admittance. Bachira licks onto your mouth without subtlety, fangs sinking into the plush of your bottom lip with lustblown out in eyes.

“Come on, then baby.” He tempts. “Let me give you whatever you want, mmkay?”

Your agreement comes out more like a whine than a firm yes. Bachira laces his fingers together with yours in the way he used to when you were kids walking across the road. You can barely feel your legs as you hurry up the stairs, worn but loved photos of childhood life and home. There’s pinned up medals and photos and each step you climb makes your heart race a little faster.

It dawns on you too late that Bachira is the love of your life. Your omega pines for it, longs for the intimacy of it. Alpha, alpha, alpha - Meguru. A hymn etched into your heart.

He tugs you into his room and locks it quick, groping desperately for the lights before pinning you up against the door in one swift motion. You feel your back against the wood as his hands move all over you. He squeezes the soft curve of your hips, nails dragging light against your stockings as he hitches your leg up kissing you more. Sloppier, messier - breathlessly chasing your lips and never pulling away. Always running after you when you stop to breathe like he’s destined to be your only source of oxygen. You claw at him, your eyes fluttering shut, rolling your up against him as slick wets the inside of your tights.

It’s embarrassing how wet you really are. It’s never been so bad So blatant. He laughs a little, the hard press of his cock against your core making you sputter. Giggly as he feels it, hand squeezing your knee tight where he holds you up.

“So wet,” He murmurs against your mouth. “You’re so wet baby. It’s making a mess you know? You’re not usually this messy are you? You’re not one for bad manners.”

You whine against his lips. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Stupid. I’m praising you,” He replies. “Praising your perfect pussy the way it deserves. Always giving so much to me. Don’t you think it’s mean if I don’t give back just a little?”

“Touch me,” You beg slowly losing your sense of shame. “Knot me. Fuck me. Wanna bond with you.” You sniffle, overwhelmed as you plant your face against his neck “Wanna be with you forever,”

A low growl slips from his throat, makes you so weak you could break with the slightest touch. “Don’t say that lightly.”

You claw at your sobriety. Overtaken with emotions or not, the desire to bonded—mated isn’t a suggestion from thin air. You want proof of him in your life forever, the shape of his teeth in your neck. It’s been so fucking long. You’ve pined for him for nearly your entire life. Clutching onto him is the only thing you can think to do.

Pulling away, you search desperately for your reflection in his eyes, trying to show your utter sincerity.

“I’m not,” You say with as much conviction as you can. Embarrassment makes your face hot. “I know I’m in heat but I…” Your lip trembles. “I’ve thought about it. I won’t regret. aI want you so much, Meguru. Bond with me.”

He whines. “You’re so unfair. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine. You don’t know how bad I want it. Want you. For so long.”

“You have me,” You whisper, trying not to look away. “It’s hard for me to say stuff like that, alright? So if you get it bond with me.”

“You’re so fucking cute.” He praises. “Of course I will. How can I say no when you ask me like that? So pretty, so,” He takes a deep breath. “So sweet. So perfect.”

Your lungs expand with a breath. “Meguru,”

“Wore something so cute only to get it all messy,” He hums. His hands pulling up on your sweater. “Who got this for you?”

“Uni friends,” You mumble, heart picking up speed. Bachira draws the long sweater up on your form, sliding it up over your ass and waist. It’s shaded enough that the large wet spot isn’t obvious. His hands grip your ass, moan slipping from his mouth in appreciation for the touch. “T-they told me it’s in style.”

He tugs the sweater off of your body and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving you mostly naked aside from your underwear. You paw at his shirt making he laughs warmly.

“Wanna get me naked so bad?”

Yes. You feel ashamed thinking about how much you wanna feel his skin. Bachira is all sinewy muscle under his clothes. He’s grown a little over the last four years, even though you used to be the same height. It’s a touch of it everywhere, broader shoulders and deeper musculature, a physique carved from so much training. The muscles of his torso make you swallow thickly, the promise of dark hair trailing from his stomach at the top of his pants.

“You’re staring so much. I’ll get embarrassed.”

You find your hands smoothing up his chest and feel aroused about how good it looks. Weird gratitude settles over you seeing your manicured nails on Bachira’s strong chest. Too pretty for an alpha, but sharp enough that you believe it. The thought of the two of you together sends you reeling with thoughts. You’ve always wanted it. Always wanted him.

He only lets you admire him for so long. His hands go around to your back, unclasping your bra in one go. You let him take it off you - self-conscious in how he zeros in on your chest. Nipples hardening in arousal, his hands cup them and squeeze. The rough feeling and grip of his palms makes you gasp - harsh in the way you can only imagine someone who fucks alphas can be. Keening, you watching Bachira lean back in to kiss you briefly before leaving hot, wet kisses down your neck and chest.

Before he gets any further, he drags you along to his bed. Manhandling you until you’re laying on your back on his sheets, he climbs over you with appreciation. His eyes trace your body before landing at your core, sopping wet from heat-addled arousal. You cover your face with your hands.

Wordless, he grabs your tights and pulls them down from your body hard.

There it becomes obvious, your wetness. Humiliation blooms in the pit of your gut as Bachira sits between your legs, pulling your them apart at the knee with complete and utter fascination. You’re wearing light colored panties - plain with silly patterns, pale yellow. Your arousal is no doubt visible, soaking beyond just the inset of your panties but the entire thing. Slick runs down your thighs, down your ass. It’s egregious, excess appropriately reflective of how you ache. Your body is wholly for a knot with how much of it there is.

The longer Bachira stares, the more it pulses and throbs under his vision. You feel soaked from the waist down. “Is it always so wet…?”

“It’s not… usually this bad.” You admit. Bachira growls something deep in his chest.

Before you can protest, he rolls soaked underwear off you in one go and leaves you completely bare.

He’s imposing, stood on his knees over you - nearly in a trance. Bachira pulls you up by your waist, his thigh supporting your spine as he folds you up until your legs are in the air - bending down until your cunt is directly in front of his face. You gasp seeing his face between your legs. Both of his arms are secured around your thighs as he takes a sharp inhale. Slick drips down towards your belly because of the way you’re angled and bent. It’s humiliating seeing your legs overhead. He presses his cheek against slicked-soaked inner thighs.

Holding you still like that, back off the bed nearly folded in half with only his own body to support you - he dives face deep into your cunt without a second of forewarning. Your whole being lurches at the sensation, the lacking of build-up going straight to your tender core.

Bachira laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. There’s no technique, nothing but sheer animalistic hunger as his tongue dives furiously into your sex - nose bumping and brushing your clit with each wet, forceful slide of his tongue, swallowing down as much of your slick with each go. You feel your body go weak, lightheaded at being held and ate so viciously. Arousal comes in waves until finds a pace for himself with little word of instruction other than desperate keening and vague asks for more. Your eyes are closed as tension draws in your stomach. His mouth finds your clit, sucking gently and letting the flat plane of his tongue smoth on the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over - sucking carefully.

His face is red when you open your eyes to look at him slurp your pussy, slick up and into his throat as if its a life force. Your eyes lock and you whimper at how he smiles into your pussy, keeping rhythm. He hums against you as the feeling builds and builds and builds. Heat makes you lightheaded, your thighs trembling, feet pointed with your toes curling as you reach the inevitable end of your first orgasm. His arms are securing holding you and taking the weight off of your spine - both of them holding you tight. You see the veins flex in his forearms as he grips you. Something about it sends you careening off the edge.

The first orgasm Bachira gives you happens like that. He makes you cum with your spine halfway up in the air, tension in your body going so tight before releasing all at once. Orgasm makes you crashland. You cum so hard, you’re blindsided. Tugging as from his grip, your thighs squish his face as you squirm, all the muscles in your lower body tremoring from release.

“M-meguru, can’tcan’tcan’t,” You feel his mouth follow you through orgasm in what reverence. His tongue dips inbetween your folds, the only mercy you receive.

All at once, he lets you down gently until your laid limp in his bed. His face is covered in slick and drool as you lay there gasping and twitching erratically in the aftermath of your first induced heat orgasm. You stare at him, dazed as he wipes his face with his hands then licks them clean.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles, awestruck. His hand comes down next to your head, nothing but pure adoration in his vision - fangs bared. The yellow gold of his eyes pins you to his bed. “I can’t get enough of you. Didn’t know anything could taste that good.”

He presses his mouth to yours in a way that’s almost violent, holding your jaw so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he’s pleased, he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and all over your face. You can’t think of a single coherent string of thoughts, even after your first orgasm.

Like a livewire, every place Bachira touches, lingers for minutes. Just his name, just his knot - the only things your brain can make space for so aroused.

“Did I already fuck you stupid?” He asks, breathless laugh on his lips. “Aw, baby - we just got started you know? You can’t tap out so early,” He pats your thigh with sticky hand making you yelp and waking you up form your haze. “How can I make you my mate without your full attention, hm?”

You blink at him, tears at your lashes at his face. Your heart feels strange, so relieved, so pleasant, you think you could die. The smallest, soberest part of you is happy to be with Bachira but your instinct is practically clawing at your chest begging for more.

“Meguru,” You want to burst into tears but settle for soft sniffles. “Meguru, I love you. Love you, love you so much. I love you.”

“Ehh? Why’re you crying dummy?” His voice is tender, so thoughtful. Bachira is so selfish while being so loyal at the same time it makes your heart sing. “I love you too, so so much. Are you crying ‘cause it felt good?”

He leans into your space, letting your arms wrap around his neck with a sniffle. “It felt so good it was scary,”

He smiles at you - beaming. You want to hold onto him forever. Your soul has never ached so much for another person in your entire life, You press onto him tight, chest squeezing against his as you pull him in for a hug.

He laughs then, squeezing you in his arms before rolling around in the bed. The innocence of the gesture brings a quiet giggle to your lips as Bachira presses kisses all over you. Soft pecks on your shoulder, on your nape, at the crown of your head. “Wanna look at me this time, hm? Would it make you feel better?”

You nod in his arms and he smiles at you again, so sweet. He’s different. His egoism is so present, so there - selfishness carving him into the man he is now. Bachira does as he pleases with you, but gives you these little mercy’s admits his ruthlessness that make you want to fold under his touch.

He lays on his back and drags you along with him. You’re laid ontop of him, chest to chest - and he keeps you like that before gazing into your eyes so adoringly, you urge to look away. He holds your gaze, not intending to let you.

“You’re staring too much.” You murmur.

“I can’t look at you even though you’re so pretty? Unfair.” He says back just as fast.

“You say embarrassing stuff so easily…”

He smiles at you. “Because I mean it, dummy. There’s no one prettier than you,”

“That’s not,” Your breath catches as you feel his hands grab your ass, pressing your face to his neck, scent glands next to your nose. “…ngh, it’s not..”

“Don’t say it’s not true or I’ll get angry,” His voice is sing-songy as he gropes you with both hands, content to feel you as you rub your body against his desperately craving more touch. You want to be in his skin. “You’re prettiest to me.”

“Meguru,” You whimper. “Meguru,”

“Begging for my knot with such a sweet voice. How deceiving.” The contrast in the tone of his voice versus his touch makes you long for him. “Do you want my cock so bad already?”

You frown feeling bashful as you nod.

“Ah, but you’ve never had a knot in here before have you? Not a real one,” He hums, voice thick with amusement. “So I have to open you up nice till you’re nice and soft on my fingers mmkay? Here, turn this way.”

Bachira lays you on your side, letting you adjust so your arm can slide under him comfortable. He lays facing you, pulling you towards him until your legs slot together - one of your legs locked between his with the other on top. He’s face to face with you like this. He slides one of his arms under your back to pull you to him even further, the other reaching over around your thighs and sliding his digits against your slick cunt. Your own arm bent at the elbow, you hold onto Bachira’s face locking eyes with him. Hands splay at his face, hoping your expression is enough to get the points across. He smiles at you, fangs glinting out shiny as he stares back.

No words are shared between you but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you want to tell.

You feel his middle finger slide down until it catches on your entrance making you whine. He hums sogtly, forearm pressed against your thigh as he pushes his first digit into you slowly. Your lips meet again in something softer, heat stricken pining you moan as he sinks into your welcoming heat. His voice is a whisper against your skin.

“Fuck, nghh - Meguru,”

“Your body is made for this,” He says, awestruck and giggly. “It’s going in so easy. Needs my knot so bad it’s getting impatient and ready. So fucking wet,”

You huff impatiently. Rarely are you so petulant and impatient. You want more, need him inside so much deeper. From the first time you had sex to now, you’ve never experienced this much longing to be penetrated. To be fucked hard and deep, hardwired in your subconscious.

It’s never been important until now, until Bachira. His first slides in and out so easily, you only start to feel it at two. You tuck against Bachira’s neck, feeling the shape of his fingers. They’re angular, bony but long and pretty. They reach into you deeper than you’re own even with just two.

“There’s a spot that makes you feel good, right?’ He hums. You can feel the reverb of his voice from his chest. “Where is it… here?”

He hits it almost instant, rubbing your gspot - lightly swollen from heat. You arch against him as Bachira places an appreciative kiss on your shoulder. “It’s there. I’ll touch it more for you, ‘kay.”

So he does. He angles his fingers, his wrists in such a way that he can rub up against it in a beckoning gesture. Your clit throbs in response to the stimulation - sticky, honeyed want coiling in your gut and abdomens as you sensitivity skyrockets even higher. Pressure builds slower with his fingers, just two - pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy noisily as Bachira concentrates, low lidded eyes. Pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your tiny whimpers. You feel like you’re going to burst when he adds a third finger in. You’re not expecting the stretch - not painful but full. Makes you feel even needier, canting your hips against the motion of his fingers.

You cum again dully throbbing all over your body - the sensation snapping like something brittle - clean and even but obvious. Your cunt tightens, clamping down on Bachira’s ring, middle, and pointer and how deeply they reach inside of you. You’ve never cum like this before, never cum from the inside even during heat. Silken walls clamp down on his thick fingers never wanting him to go, only wanting more.

The arousal is just strong enough to make you snap. You gasp, nearly biting his lips as you shudder and rut - trembling in the strong grip of Bachira’s arms. The praise he whispers against your hot skin makes you feel so wanted. Your brain chants for his cock, his knot so eagerly you don’t know how to get it across other than begging him until your voice gives. The omega in you whines, sniffles brattily when Bachira pulls his fingers from you leaving your cunt so sorely empty.

“Fuck me,” You express, trying to keep your composure as best you can. “Can’t think.”

“Eh? That’s a first,” He hums. He draws your hips to his, hand on your ass as his clothed erection is pinned up against your sticky sex. “You’re always overthinking with this pretty face but now you want my knot so much you can’t?”

The words make you want to collapse, how mean he says them while still being sweet.

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup. “I love you

“Shh, shh - it’s okay,” He murmurs. If you were more there you’d know he’s merely teasing. “Don’t cry. Just have to stick beside me from now on okay? All mine. Gonna bite you and make it permanent so you can’t run away.”

“Okay,”

“And you can’t show how cute you are like this to anyone else, okay?”

You sniffle. “Okay,”

“Say it baby,” He echoes. “Say I’m yours and you’re mine.”

So you repeat the words as best you can in this state, slurring your words. “I’m yours and… you’re mine.”

He grins. “You’re so cute. So perfect. Ah, I’m getting jealous of other people just thinking about it.”

You blurt the words out drunk off of the sensations in your body when you hear Bachira talk of jealousy. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because of you,” You mumble, inhaling his scent “He was really nice to me but I couldn’t get over you even though we were together for a year,” You let your eyes flutter shut. “It was just a few days ago. So, there’s nothing to be jealous over,”

A long silence stretches between you at the confession as you listen to Bachira’s heartbeat pick-up pace until it’s a loud pump. The sudden change makes you concerned, pulling away to see what he’s thinking. You assume it was going to be something cheeky and playful like always, but when you look at him - he’s blushing full red. Completely bashful, eyes blown wide and blinking rapidly. You feel oddly amused at it as he presses his lips together, hugging you until you laugh.

“You’re soo unfair. Ugh, how could you…ugh” He trails off to stare at you. “You love me?”

You smile at him breaking out into a giggle. “A lot. It’s embarrassing.”

He sighs blissfully content.

“I can’t look at you while I bond with you but I want to when I knot you ‘kay? Wanna hold you really close.”

“Meguru,”

He whistles at the sound of his name on your lips, like it’s all you need to say. “Lay on your tummy baby. “

He moves aside to let you flip over until you’re laying flat on your stomach. You lift your hips up slightly to make yourself more accessible, burying your face in your arms crossed in front you. You feel anticipation build up in your body, thoughts complete clouded. Your incisors sink in your lower lip as you listen to Bachira unzip and take off his pants, wiggling your hips lightly to tempt him. His hand comes down to swat your ass in a playful gesture. You yelp.

He’s quiet for a while, his hands coming onto your back. “What’s this?”

Your eyes widen as his fingers brush over the spot. You hadn’t thought about it. Your tattoo. Shit.

“…A tattoo,”

“Of a bumble bee and a flower,” Bachira repeats, shit-eating grin audible. “What kind of flower?”

“Kuroyuri.” You say, embarrassed. “Stands for love and curse.”

“Oh you’re really that in love with me, hm? How old is this? It’s healed. You missed me so much? I’m so happy.” He says breathlessly, elation so obvious in his voice it makes you shy. “Tell me all about when I’m done fucking you, okay baby?”

You bury your face away from him, feeling shy as he kisses the placement before moving along.

The position doesn’t let you see Bachira’s cock. Instead you feel it, which makes it much more imposing than you ever thought possible. The weight, the heft, the thickness of it is makes your breath hitch as you finally feel it outside of the confines of his boxers. You don’t need to look at it, you can feel how massive it is. He slides it along the curve of your ass and you can sense it so obviously it makes your stomach churn. He slides it between your ass, pushing it through both cheeks but not penetrating and it stretches you. You can barely contain the shock in your voice, pussy throbbing at the idea of him being inside of you with something so unbearably big.

He hasn’t even knotted you. How can he possibly be that big without a knot. Your voice trembles.

“Meguru… you’re huge.”

He laughs, breathless. Cocky and egoistic that sends your spine tingling like a solar flare. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m a little scared,” You admit. “But I want it at the same time.”

“Don’t be scared,” His voice is tender but his words are filthy. “You’re made for me. Your cunts all split open and soaking wet because it’s begging you for my knot, pretty. Just mine. You’ll feel so full with me. So don’t be nervous and let me in okay?”

You breathe deeply shakily, eyes fluttering closed at the promise of it. “Okay, Meguru.”

You find yourself thankful that you’re not looking at him, but at the same time - you’re unsure if it’s better. You have to focus in on the sensation. There’s nothing but posters on the wall for you to look at and your eyes are barely focused it. Every inch of your skin is dry kindle and Bachira is the lighter - the match, the spark that sends you reeling in the midst of your heat.

Your heats are always drunken stupors, messy hormonal sessions. To you they’ve always been akin to intense inebriated sex that’s painful unless you cum a few times.

But with Bachira your heat is all encompassing flame. It’s like letting the sun swallow you whole, sweat dripping down your spine. When Bachira pushes the fat head of his cock into your tight, wanting, needy fucking cunt - you cry so loud you might scream. Whats left of your sense snaps as your body throbs for cock, you push yourself back onto him with a groan. You want him to knot you, want him to fuck you full and cum deep inside and plug you up. Want him to make you so whole and he’s so good because he is.

You feel your fists tangle in the sheets, and then feel Bachira’s body slump over yours from behind. His hand falls over yours, squeezing it as the thick swell of his shaft pushes into you your pussy painfully slow and stakes its claim. You feel like an animal the way you give way to your desires.

The sensations and scent in the room is so strong your eyes sting and your mouth waters, drool pooling at your lips as Bachira splits your pussy open completely on his fat cock. Everything is sweet, coats your mouth as you take in a sharp gasp of air. You choke his name out from your lips, whimpering at the soft growl in his voice when he finally bottoms out. Inch by inch, veins of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you.

Your body is hypersensitive. You’re so wet, so out of your mind with that your thighs are trembling at the edge of an orgasm. If he moves the right way, you know you’ll cum instantly.

He leans over your shoulder and you pick your head up weakly letting him lick into your mouth. “Gonna bond you. Gonna mark you and mate you and making you all fucking mine. Sink my fangs into your pretty neck, my pretty omega. You’re so precious baby. Make me so hard. I love you, I love you so much.”

“Bite me,” Is all you can get out, your brain can barely think hard enough for anything else. “Please. Please bite me,”

It’s sudden. Sharp. Exactly what you want.

You feel the sensation of teeth in your neck and everything around you halts to honor it. An orgasm shatters you in the process of it as Bachira pulls out and thrusts his hips and you cum so hard you shake violently - hands fisted in the sheets and pussy spasming as you cum relentlessly. Bottomed out, you allow your body to take it all in before the feeling your bond starts to draw in so much clarity. Belly fully, muscles tight - everything slows the the whirring blades of a fan coming a halt or a car worshiping a red light. The world stops spinning, briefly - mind and soul and spirit melding together his fangs descent into your neck. You feel the sharpening teeth sink into the soft flesh of your nape and cry out at the dull sensation of pain, outweighed by the out-of-body euphoria.

It’s like everything makes sense. Every moment, every concern, every heartbreak - every minute apart. Love like a nerve split raw, open, tender - make tears pool at your lashes and spill down your face as Bachira bonds with you and stays there long enough to penetrate. All endorphins, pleasure, pain. Something clicks steadily into place inside of you and makes sense of all of your mess. Everything you are.

A sense of completeness like nothing you could ever know without him. You love him so much it swallows you whole.

Bonding, a mark of permanence - can be rejected by the body. Bred into your secondary sex after years of evolution. A unique trait to alpha and omega sexes, whether same or opposite sex pairs. Bonds are equivalent to sharing yourself with another person. Weak bonds can be broken, and some bonds won’t take at all.

When your bond with Bachira takes so easily some part of you just knows. Some place beyond instinct, beyond every thing in the world that defines you. All of you has always existed in part with Bachira. And this pleasure, this desire for closeness can only be derived from years of unconditional love.

Whatever would happen of you, had you been born an alpha or beta, Bachira would be born alongside you and make you complete or you, him. The way the sensation connects you like an invisible thread is proof of that. The ease of it. The desire between you is greater because of it’s exclusivity, because you prefer omegas and always will - but no one compares to Bachira regardless of sex or anatomy. He is yours because he is him, sweet smells and soft eyes and need.

You can’t help but weep about it as you know he feels it too, secretions from his teeth dulling the pain from the wound as he finally pulls out from the mark and laps at the blood.

You feel such intense relief, heat subsiding leaving only pleasure and warmth. .

You love him so much you could stay like this. You love him so much nothing else in the world could ever sway you from it. You don’t care what it makes you. What it means. You love Bachira as he loves you - conventionally unconventional. Beautifully imperfect.

Tears slip down your face as Bachira licks your wounds for you like always.

“I’m yours, baby.” Bachira says, soft. Whispers your first name as he says it. “I love you so much. My whole life. Since I was little. Since you called out to me and let me show you my dribbling. I can’t stand being without you, you know? So don’t ever leave me,”

You laugh a little, sobering. “As if I could.”

“Wanna knot you and hold you, kay? Gimme a sec.”

Your body whines at sensation of Bachira slowly pulling out before flipping you onto your back in missionary. He’s quick to do it. You glance at his shiny cock , light throb in your neck as he shoves the whole thing back in one go and making your sensitive hole cum all over again. Your own body is ridiculous to you. You’re making a mess on his cock and definitely of his bed in the process, gasping as your muscles spasm in your waist.

“S-sorry,”

“Don’t apologize for that, dummy.” He kisses you. “Here. Hold onto me.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself slump into bed, whining as Bachira fucks you a few times - sloppy, wet thrusts noisy in the room around you. You feel them in your exhaustion, another wave of tension making your stomach burn.

“Gonna, fuck—knot you, gonna knot you, ‘kay? Touch yourself for me.”

“Knot me, Meguru.”

Bachira bottoms out. You feel his cum flood your cunt - so thick it’s in a stream as the base of his thick cock swells inside your pussy. You’re already so stretched by his dick on its own, you can’t imagine the sensation of the real thing until you feel it.

It throbs hotly inside of you, deep. The knot swells up until it’s fat enough to stretch your open, slick pussy even further. You feel it in spite of how wet you are, the sensation rubbing on your walls raw punching all the air out of your lungs as he cock fills you completely. You feel it in your throat, his knot in your belly plugging you full as you breathe.

“Fuck,” Your voice breaks. “You’re so huge, what the fuck.”

He pauses then laughs hysterically as he sinks into you unable to move. “Thanks! I’m pretty proud of it.”

You chuckle tiredly. “How long does this last?”

He hums. “An hour-ish?”

Your eyes go wide. “Shit. Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Bachira says happily, collapsing ontop of you. “And when it goes down I’m going to fuck you some more.”

“Mercy… my stamina… Meguru I’ll die.”

“No way. I’ve waited too long.” He says with a deep breath. “But I’ll let you rest for now.”

You close your eyes, smiling. “Pfft. Thanks.”

Your back is going to give out.

Athletes are frightening. Your body is covered in bite marks underneath the collar as you peel out of Bachira’s arms in the morning after. It’s 7am, and the sun still hasn’t risen since it’s the dead of winter. You stare at him, kissing his cheek as he lays - completely rested and healthy. Bastard.

“Meguru,” You hum, stirring him awake. “I’m gonna run to the store and pick us up something to eat.”

“Noooo,” He says, half asleep trying to wrestle you back into bed. “Stay here. With me,”

“No,” You reprimand, peeling away from him. He whines out loud. “I’m sticky. I’m gonna borrow your loose clothes okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“Booo,”

Ultimately too tired to protest, you yawn and crawl out of your bed, scrambling to the shower after rummaging through tubs of clean, old clothes in Bachiras’s room and picking whatever you think will fit.

You shower, scrubbing yourself inside and out. You feel apologetic using the products in the shower as you scrape cum out of yourself as best you can and scrub your body. Layers of sweat and slick between your thighs have dried down and feel incredibly unpleasant now that your sober and your heat is mostly settled or it will be for another few days. You’re thankful that Bachira’s childhood home is the second most familiar place in your life as it allows you to get clean in hot water without feeling awkward.

Once you’re cleaned, you dry off and borrow Bachira’s lotion - rubbing into your skin and taking care of your appearance best you can. You examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling sudden humiliation at your face. You’re practically glowing, and you reek of Bachira and fucked out omega even after the bath. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and thanking all higher powers that you don’t have to see your parents for a few more days.

After gathering yourself in the bathroom, you check on Bachira one more time in his room and smile as sleeps softly before slipping downstairs.

His mom hasn’t returned yet. Her shoes, jacket, and other belongings aren’t in the house and her gifts are where you left them. You feel thankful about that as your eyes search for your bag, still sitting on the couch where you left it. Shuffling through it, you pop some heat medication dry before doing anything else.

You grab it. It still has some battery left, left on DND. You check the time only, deciding you can swipe later. Heading out the door quickly, you make sure to lock up using the key underneath the mat for your quick trip to 7/11.

A brisk walk later in the frostbitten air, you enter the convenience store. A bored looking cashier nods at you as you smile flatly in return.

You pick up a couple of things. XXL condoms, juice and soda water, some snacks and ramen - along with some easy hot foods that can keep you both alive until you can get a better meal. Bachira has a decent appetite but you don’t think he’ll be up for a while to eat proper. He likes to sleep in during vacations.

“Ah, excuse—Bachira?”

Your eyes widen as you meet eyes with the familiar stranger and his friend. You know both of these people.

You could not have possibly met them at a worse time.

“Isagi-kun…” You bow, awkwardly thinking of what ways you could end your life right there in the 7/11. “And this is…?”

“Rin Itoshi. He prefers Rin,”

“Rin-kun,”

The taller, brooding one gives you a look, crinkling his nose a little. You want to die. Your gaze turns to Isagi which is not much better as he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life.

“I see. Nice to meet you Rin-kun,” You say, looking away, “What are you two doing here? This is me and Bachira’s hometown.”

“We’re supposed to visit him in a couple of days actually but decided to do a little sight-seeing first. There’s more of us but they’re asleep at the hotel.”

You just nod, silence stretching between you before Isagi breaks it.

“I’m glad the two of you made up,” He says. “When did you guys start to reconcile? I always felt really guilty after the whole mall incident. Glad to see you both doing well,”

Your brain moves too slow to lie. “Uh. Last night was the first time we saw each other in a few years,”

His eyes widen. “So the picture he posted was…?”

You squint. “What picture?”

Isagi makes a guilty face, unsure of what to do. Before you can ask, Rin, pulls his phone out and shows you something.

It’s you and Bachira in bed with you asleep in his arms - your bitemark and visible tattoo showing in the image as his hand cradles the back of your head while you’re cuddling him in your sleep.. You’re both mostly covered by the sheets. The only caption is an emoticon and you’re not tagged. You blink, wiping your eyes. It’s so like him, you aren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. You sigh deeply instead.

“You didn’t know?”

“Haven’t checked my phone since..” You trail off. He’s so reckless. “Thanks for uh… showing me. I’m gonna head back but you and your team mates should come visit sometime. I cook hotpot for New Years so it’d be nice to have you all.”

Isagi smiles amicably, politely ignoring the situation. You’re thankful your partners friend has so much tact unlike he himself. “Of course. I’ll ask Bachira for your info. Keep in touch”

“Of course. Good luck on the World Cup qualifiers.”

They both thank you for that before you turn and depart with whatever left of your dignity.

You check your phone on the way back to his place, seeing your notifications in shambles. Fifty messages total, some from family and most from friends congratulating you. You ignore all of them for now, especially the ones from your brother - not willing to know what they say.

In your despair, you don’t notice the new pair of shoes when you open the unlocked door of Bachira’s childhood home either.

“Oh!” Yu-sans voice is just as welcoming as it always is as you stare at her in the doorway awe-struck. She smiles at you incredibly knowingly as a new wave of mortification sinks in. “You’re back. Meguru is in the shower.”

“Ah,”

She gives you a long grin, letting the silence settle first before breaking out into laughter so loud it startles you. You can feel your body grow hot with shame, wishing the world would open from the ground up and swallow you.

“You know I always thought something like this would happen eventually,” She hums, prepping the flowers you bought last night for a vase. “I’m grateful it happened when you were both adults at least.”

“Yu-obasan..”

“Oh don’t be so cold. Yu-san is fine. Or maybe kaa-san now that you’re both together.” She hums. “Anything but oba-san is fine. Makes me feel old. You know that.”

You make an embarrassed face, sighing as you set your things down at the couch. You wanted to do stuff like this in order. Though you never really imagined you and Bachira together, you always thought for a serious relationship you’d have more of yourself together.

“Uh,” You flush as you sit at the counter. Yu-san gives you a small smile, head tilted to one side as she arranges the flowers you’ve bought her. “It’s late to do this, but uhm… thank you for giving birth to Meguru and for taking care of me as if I were your own child all this time.” You feel your ears turn hot as you say the rest. “I promise to take good care of Meguru and you for as long as I live, any way I can and I hope you can accept our relationship and give us your blessing.”

You pause, afraid to look up for a minute until the silence stretches on for a touch too long. When you look up, she’s smiling. Grinning. Meguru looks so much like her. Her laughter bubbles through the room airily like champagne.

She comes around to hug you tight, startling you from where you sit, her hand on your head. “Asking my blessing… I don’t know how my Meguru got so lucky to find such a responsible kid. Of course you have it. As if you need to ask. Please do take good care of him and yourself. This is your home too, okay?”

You smile before being startled by another familiar voice. “Uwah, I go shower and you’re having a hug without me.”

“Come join us then!”

“Yay! Group hug!”

Bachira hollers as he squeezes you and his mom in a hug, suffocating you. It’s incredibly embarrassing so in some ways it feels incredibly familiar. They’re really too similar some times.

When they pull away, Yu-san plays a motherly kiss to both your face and Bachira’s. “I’m going to go put these up in my room and hang out in the studio for a bit. You two should have a date, alright? It’s rare you have time like this.”

“’Kay,” Bachira says, watching her walk up stairs before shouting. “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

You watch her disappear up the steps before seeing Bachira again sobered. He smiles at you lovingly, but you pout - suddenly remembering this morning.

“Ehhh?? Why are you making that face? Shouldn’t we be super lovey-dovey right now?”

“The picture you posted,” You say, tugging at his shirt with your head down. “That’s too sudden. You’re a big athlete now, and—“

“So? There’s no one for me but you. I don’t care who knows. I want everyone in the entire world to know even though I don’t want them to actually see you.” He murmurs, crowding into your space. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Don’t be mad, okay?”

“I spoil you too much,” You say, because it’s true and it’s enough to make you not mad at all.

He kisses you then. He tastes like the fruity toothpaste kids use and home when he does pulling back with a warm smile. You feel flush but keep your eyes on his face.

“It’s the first time we’ve kissed just to kiss,” You hum. He smiles mischievously.

“The second time, silly.”

When the realization dawns on you, you gasp - smacking his chest in shock in dismay.

You thought he blacked out for that kiss when you were seventeen! Bachira breaks out into giggles above you.

“Meguru!” You exclaim, feeling huffy as he pulls you into his arms and begs for forgiveness.

Meguru. Homesickness makes you ache, his name in your mouth the only remedy.

Meguru. Your one and only.

#bachira x reader #bluelock x reader #bachira smut #bluelock smut #writing tag #fics for gaza #omegaverse cw

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luvmahae · 1 month ago

Text

masterlist — previous — next!

SM DOME how the fuck we feelin?

it’s motherfuckin rave day and guess where we are? sm dome baby!

what’s better than being surrounded by dudes rocking jerseys, half-buttoned shirts, or just straight up going shirtless? and the girls? they’ve got the looks on lock—tiny tops, bottoms barely covering their asses, and of course, the fishnets.

everywhere you look, there’s kandi stacked high on wrists, led gloves lighting up the crowd, and the unmistakable haze of cigarettes, weed, and a rainbow of vape flavors hanging in the air. mango, watermelon, blue razz… you name it!

outside the main doors leading to the floor, some people are already completely fucked up. the night’s still young... right? spoiler: it’s only the openers playing right now. the main section of the venue is pure organized chaos—lines snaking to the bar, the merch booth, the bathroom. and the longest line of all? you guessed it. the water stations.

and this? this is just the beginning of what promises to be one hell of a night.

chenle leads the way to the water stations, his camelbak slung over his shoulders. you and the others follow, weaving through the swarms of people, the energy of the venue running through your veins.

“me, chenle, and jisung are in charge of water tonight.” renjun says, filling the pouch inside of his camelbak at the dispenser.

once the boys finish loading up their camelbaks, the group rallies together, heading toward the floor entrance. mark’s hands rest on Ningning’s shoulders while she clings to chenle’s hand, letting him take the lead. you fall into place behind jeno, fingers gripping his shoulders like a train of carefree, slightly chaotic college kids.*

the crowd is packed, a sea of people all swaying, talking, dancing, you name it. john summit’s final stop in seoul has brought out a massive crowd—more than you had expected, but it’s the kind of energy that gets your adrenaline pumping.

the group moves through the crowd, inching forward towards the middle, where you’ve learned from past events that the view from here is the best. as you get closer to the center, the sights become even more overwhelming—the neon lights, the lasers cutting through the air, the thumping bass reverberating through your body. the visuals are going to be insane.

“right here.”

the group forms a loose circle, finally getting a chance to breathe for a moment before the madness begins.

“y/n you have the baggie right?”

“oh right i do!”

you glance down at your top, tugging on the fabric to pull out the small ziplock bag tucked in your bra. as you pass it to jeno, you notice everyone staring at you with a mix of surprise and amusement—especially the guys.

“you hid it… in there?!”

“i mean… it works out all the time. mark, do you really think security is gonna pat my boobs down?”

“honestly that’s smart as fuck.”

“i mean thank god y/n has tits!” jaemin adds, earning a playful shove from you as the laughter continues.

jeno scans the area, his eyes flicking around for any sign of security before unzipping the mini ziplock bag.

“john summit’s set starts at 9:30, so let’s pop these now.”

one by one, everyone pops their pills, and there’s something about it that feels weirdly intimate. you take a quick sip from chenle’s camelbak after, the cold water hitting just right against the growing warmth spreading through your body.

the opener’s set is still going as the pill starts to settle inside you, your body already humming in anticipation. the crowd roars with excitement, the opener throwing down banger after banger, turning up the energy in the venue.

thirty minutes later, the opening notes of “shiver” echo through the venue, crisp and electrifying, vibrating straight through your chest. the whole group erupts into cheers, their excitement blending seamlessly with the roar of the crowd. the lights flash brighter, neon beams slicing through the darkness as the music builds, and the energy of the night kicks up a notch.

and then, it hits.

at first, it’s a gentle wave of warmth that rolls through you, and then it intensifies—almost like the music is coursing through your veins, the euphoria spreading from your chest to your fingertips. the energy is contagious, with everyone belting out the words, hands in the air, bodies swaying to the beat.

renjun pulls out a pack of gum and starts handing it around. you take a piece, popping it into your mouth just as the familiar jaw-clenching begins to set in. the sharp, sweet flavor helps ground you, even as your body starts buzzing, every sensation heightened to an almost unreal intensity.

jeno waves a handheld fan at the group, his effort to combat the heat appreciated as the air thickens with the crowd’s energy. the sweat, the flashing lights, and the pulsing music all blur together, each sensation melding into the next. your skin sticky from the heat, the lights flashing too fast to follow, the music vibrating through your bones, every beat hitting harder than the last.

the group is fully in it now, rolling hard as ever. eyes half-lidded, jaws working on the gum, bodies swaying and bouncing to the music without a care. mark and ningning are practically bouncing off each other, moving together in perfect sync, feeding off each other’s excitement.

“look at you guys gooooo!” chenle shouts, laughing as he jumps into the circle with exaggerated moves, making ningning double over with laughter.

you can’t help but join in, the sheer joy of the moment pulling you closer. the music, the lights, the people—it’s all blending together into one perfect, unforgettable night.

karina is the first to stumble, her eyes blinking rapidly as the effects of the pill settle over her. she stumbles back, her shoulders colliding with jeno’s chest.

“whoa, whoa- easy.” he says quickly, steadying her with a firm hand.

she looks up at him, her eyes wide and glazed over, chewing her gum aggressively. “i don’t feel so good right now.” she admits, her voice soft but shaky.

jeno, rolling just as hard as she is, grins at her, his face softening with concern despite his own euphoric state. “you’re good. i’ve got you,” he reassures her, his hands gently massaging her temples.

“renjun, water.”

renjun nods and immediately pulls the mouthpiece of the camelbak and hands it over. he flashes karina a quick thumbs-up, his attempt at lightening the moment.

“it’s all in your head rina. you got this! just have fun!”

she takes a long sip, the cool water washing down the rising heat in her chest, grounding her just enough to breathe easier. jeno fans her with one hand, his other still steady on her shoulder

“thank you.”

the overwhelming sensations start to mellow, and for a moment, she just leans into him, finding comfort in his presence.

his grin widens as he looks down at her, holding her close until she’s ready to move again.

“anytime.”

the energy in the group builds as the music pulses through the venue, but ningning suddenly stops dancing, her eyes wide with excitement.

“can someone please give me a shoulder ride?! this is my favorite song! i need to record it NOW!”

jaemin’s grin is instant, mischievous and wide. he crouches without a second thought, patting his shoulders.

“get on!”

she doesn’t hesitate, her laughter bright as she hooks her legs over his shoulders. with a swift push, he lifts her into the air, her squeal of delight blending with the music. she wobbles for a second before steadying herself, one hand gripping his hair lightly for balance while the other raises her phone high to start recording.

“holy shit, john summit is REAL! i love you!”

“you better send me those videos later!”

“jaem don’t let me go okay!”

“i got you! just go crazy!”

“you’re seriously the best!”

he sways to the beat, effortlessly keeping her balanced as she waves her phone around, capturing the moment. his grin never falters, his energy syncing with hers as the track explodes into its euphoric drop.

jisung is completely captivated by the lasers, his eyes locked on the vibrant display, wide with awe. a grin stretches across his face as he chews on his gum, lost in the rhythm of the lights. a girl approaches him, her energy just as high as his, and they start dancing side by side.

she leans in, her voice playful. “you like the lights, huh?”

“they’re fucking insane.”

she laughs and pulls him by the hands, her body swaying to the rhythm of the music, effortlessly guiding him into the groove.

“dance with me, yeah?”

you, on the other hand, are feeling the effects a little differently. while the others are bouncing around and grinning like crazy, you feel lighter—almost like your body is floating. you sway to the music, eyes closed, your body moving with the beats like a feather in the wind.

it’s when you stumble backwards that you feel haechan’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you gently against him.

“you good?”

you smile, leaning back into him, your body relaxed in his arms. “yeah… this pill is strong as fuck, holy shit.” you admit, your voice slurring slightly, but it doesn’t even matter.

he chuckles softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver through you. his breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “told you.”

the music swirls around you, and in that moment, you lose your footing again. he catches you effortlessly, pulling you back into his embrace, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head.

“i got you.”

you lean into him, closing your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body grounding you in the otherwise dizzying world of lights and sound.

“just feel the music y/n.” he murmurs, his voice soft, steady, and comforting in contrast to the chaos around you.

when the opening beats of “what a life” burst through the speakers, the group instinctively comes together, forming a loose circle. arms draped over each other's shoulders, pulling everyone close as the music sways in time with the electric euphoria filling the air.

“i love you guys soooooo muchhhh!”

“best fucking night everrrrrr!”

“guys i’m seriously rolling tits right now!”

“tell molly i love her too!”

“god i am literally so happy. let me kiss all of you… NOW!”

you giggle as you stumble from person to person, planting a quick, sloppy kiss on each cheek, feeling the warmth of the crowd and the love flooding around you.

“that’s our girl. classic y/n.” chenle teases from the side, the group erupting in laughter.

then it’s haechan’s turn. when you reach him, the kiss lingers—just a second longer than the others. you feel his skin grow warm under your lips, and when you pull back, his eyes are already locked on yours, their intensity cutting through the haze of the night.

♪ what a life, what a time to be free

as the night winds down, the group finally makes its way back to the cars. the buzz of the pills has faded, but the sense of connection remains. you walk side by side with haechan, your hands brushing occasionally as the faint hum of conversations floats between your group.

you glance at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “i’ve got something for you, by the way,” you say, pulling a small green beaded bracelet from your pocket.

“you made kandi just for me? cute.”

“i actually made some for the group... but i couldn't forget about you too.”

“you know what’s funny? i actually made one for just you.”

your breath catches slightly as he pulls a pink beaded bracelet from his jacket pocket. the way the beads shimmer under the streetlights makes your heart flutter, but it’s the glimmer in his eyes that really gets you.

“you know what to do,” he says, holding the bracelet out, his tone both teasing and sincere.

peace. you both raise your hands, forming matching peace signs and holding them for a beat before moving on.

love. your hands curve into hearts, the symmetry between you so natural it feels like second nature.

unity. your palms meet, warm and steady against one another. there’s an intimacy in the quiet contact that makes your chest tighten in the best way.

respect. your fingers interlace with his, soft and deliberate, but instead of letting go, he holds on. his grip is firm yet gentle, grounding you in the moment as he slips the bracelet onto your wrist with his free hand.

you slide the blue and white kandi onto his wrist in return, the action simple but so much more meaningful than it has any right to be.

he doesn’t let go. instead, his fingers stay threaded with yours as he guides you toward the rest of the group, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand.

you know,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear, “this might be my favorite part of the night.”

you glance up at him, a soft feeling blooming in your chest as the night air wraps around you. “mine too.” you admit, the words barely more than a whisper.

and as you walk toward the others, your hand still in his, it feels like a quiet promise—something neither of you needs to say out loud.

♪ what a life, what a time to be you, and me

wc: 2.2k

notes: update on christmas day lets get it 😎 long awaited rave chapter and i am honestly.... living for it 100%. writing this made me relive the past events ive been to irl and ugh 10/10 feeling (not the comeup but everything past that YESSS!) plus im actually dying at the john summit twitter account LMFAO merry christmas and happy holidays to all of u lovely cuties!!! sending u all kisses muah. chapter is based off john summit's "what a life"! such a good song :D

taglist: @4amirwin @wonbin-truther @hearts4hee @jungaji @sundamariis @urlovelily @n0hyuck @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @luvvhaechan @douqhnxtss @tynlvr @haesluvr @hcluvie @pinknjm @nanaxwi @catpjimin @slayhaechan @awktwurtle @myfavoritedelusion @stqrgr7 @t-102 @jianreadsaus @haechanhues @gomdoleemyson @hyuckmoon @haechology @mystverse @hyuckies18 @sunflowerbebe07 @jae-n0 @onlyforyoukook @yizhrt @gwookie @zzzmrk @kukkurookkoo @nightcat101 @tinyelfperson @haefelt @haechsworld @tenjyucat @worldwidecutiemaya @sunghoonsgfreal @snoopyjimin @ypoom151999 @meowtella @honeynanamin @haechanmybaechan @nctrawberries @nosungluv

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rollercoasterwords · 2 months ago

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do you have any favorite poems? Or poets

YES!!!!! here is a long list of some favorite poems:

we have not long to love - tennessee williams

dream song 28: snow line - john berryman

a poem about the hounds and the hares - lisel mueller

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond - e.e. cummings

[i carry your heart with me (i carry it in] - e.e. cummings

wishbone - richard siken

scheherazade - richard siken

dirty valentine - richard siken

the torn-up road - richard siken

you are jeff - richard siken

the crowds cheered as gloom galloped away - matthea harvey

outbreaks - kitchen mckeown

if morning never comes - kallie falandays

i want to tell you yes - kallie falandays

another elegy - jericho brown

regarding the rottgen pieta - elle emerson

the sensual world - louise glück

hesitate to call - louise glück

the edge - louise glück

gretel in darkness - louise glück

messengers - louise glück

snowdrops - louise glück

telemachus' guilt - louise glück

midnight - louise glück

siren - louise glück

october - louise glück

the silver lily - louise glück

persephone the wanderer - louise glück

the pond - louise glück

beg - franny choi

making of - franny choi

perchance to dream - franny choi

august peaches - joan tierney

you think you are something less real than you are - wendy xu

the double-bed dream gallows - richard brautigan

a boat - richard brautigan

molly brodak - molly brodak

what the dragon said: a love story - catherynne m. valente

the tenor of your yes - mary ruefle

in the desert - stephen crane

i try to sing along but i get it all wrong - frog k

two mangoes - kc cramm

from a german war primer - bertolt brecht

to be read in the morning and at night - bertolt brecht

saint judas - james wright

goodtime jesus - james tate

the crown of laurel - ursula k. leguin

the old catcher considers the failing of his knees - devin kelly

wild geese - mary oliver

a brother named gethsemane - natalie diaz

& some fave books of poetry: poems 1962-2012 by louise glück, when my brother was an aztec by natalie diaz, grit by silas denver melvin, soft science by franny choi, in the pines by alice notley, crush by richard siken, and war of the foxes by richard siken.

#ask #book recs

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spyderlondon · 6 months ago

Note

Could you write a showtime fic based off the non-canon kiss image from the time capsule au?

A/N: Anon, I could kiss you for this request! /lh I was just telling Mango that I was gonna sneak that kiss into the 1957.

This is non-canon so I'm gonna do stuff that Mango has told me doesn't happen lol

Ko-fi

Time Capsule AU and art by @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule @mangotangerinepastry

Song in Harmony

Music swirled around the air as a young jester played her violin for a crowd while dancing around the stage before going down off the stage and continued her dance on the circus floor. As she performed, as another girl approached her to take over the dancing as the violinist let herself stand still as the welcomed red silken dancer went to the center of the circus' grounds to perform their dance- having the audience's eyes move from the violinist to the dancer which allowed Pomni to breathe a sigh of relief at the way all the eyes left her.

Well, that was except for two eyes that she could feel watching only her from the shadows. While still letting her bow glide and her fingers dance on the instrument, she looked over her shoulder to see The Ringmaster staring right at her, watching her every move. The shadows blocked his expression but she believed she could almost see his fingers moving as if playing along with her on his piano. She smiled warmly at the movements before she flinched as she saw his fingers suddenly contort in a painful fashion making him forcefully halt what he was doing. She didn't miss the painful, saddened look that caused him to have.

The violinist's head turned back to her violin as she went back to focusing on her performance, hiding a grimace behind her smile. She didn't want the guests to complain to an already hurt and depressed Ringmaster. She took a breath before increasing the tempo as she did a crescendo to a fortissimo as above of her a couple acrobats began to swing on the trapezes on beat with her music and a couple silk dancers joined Gangle in her performance.

Pomni's bow began to have some of its hair snap in half with the intensity and speed that she was playing at. Her eyes closed as she just listened purely to the music, imagining Caine's gorgeous piano playing right along with her which increased her passion even further.

The crowd was entirely silent for once as the song got closer to its finale, the trapeze artists both flipped high in the air to prepare for end of the song. Gangle began to dance closer to Pomni as she joined in on the dance once more, her eyes opening while smiling at the masked girl.

The bow slammed on the strings just hard enough to do a subito fortissimo a few times while one of the trapeze artists' expertly grabbed onto the ankles of the second one right before the latter of the two grabbed the incoming trapeze bar, all before the violinist ended on a decrescendo that ended at a mezzo forte whole note that she made sure to punctuate with a nice vibrato. By then, the trapeze artists both landed on their separate platforms.

There was silence all through the circus as the audience just stared with their expressionless masks and the performers who had ended on their final poses were breathing heavily after a long and successful performance.

It wasn't until about thirty seconds later that the crowd erupted into boisterous cheering and excitement over such a thrilling act that was put on by everyone.

While the rest of the performers were waving and grinning at the audience, the violinist's attention was towards the shadows where she was able to see that The Ringmaster, Caine, actually had his eyes wide open with an actual sparkle of life inside of them as he clapped just as, maybe even harder, than the audience members while staring straight into her eyes with such pride and adoration that her heart couldn't help but swell in her own pride.

Gangle paused as she saw her friend staring off at the shadows and followed her gaze before chuckling to herself. She gently pried away the violin and bow from her, "Go on. We both know what you are so desperate to do." She whispered to her with a knowing smile.

Pomni blushed a bit at that statement but simply muttered a quiet thank you before racing off towards the man standing in the shadows with a large, bright smile on her face. She ran as fast as she could that her jester hat blew right off of her head but she couldn't care less as she leapt straight into The Ringmaster's arms where he caught her in surprise but held her high to his face as her knees touched in a way that wrapped around his torso, both knowing exactly what they craved.

Caine closed his teeth as she placed her hands underneath his jaw before she leaned in and kissed him with her eyes fluttering shut in her passion. They both felt nothing but complete adoration for each other that The Ringmaster even fought off the AI that tried to force him away from her since the guests were still in the audience.

In that one moment, both of them just felt nothing but their warm, loving hearts beating to the song of their love.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital time capsule #tadc showtime #time capsule #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc gangle #caine x pomni

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justjams2003 · 7 months ago

Text

Over-ripe

I fear...people are going to be a bit upset with me for starting a new story and not updating any of my other ones... But I have to go where the old man obsession takes me! And I fear this time it's bad...those who follow my second blog know...

So, here is my vision. You've heard of Big Daddy Elvis (BDE). And you've heard of vampire!Elvis. So please all imagine for me, Alpha!Big Daddy Elvis.... I fear the brainrot has me...

Summary: After an exhausting night, overwhelmed by the crowd and meds, Elvis stumbles onto the wrong floor. Where he finds an omega, innocent, sweet like over-ripe fruit, ready to be plucked.

Pairing: Alpha!Big Daddy Elvis x Omega!Innocent!reader

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Omegaverse, grooming (kind of), reader just barely 18, talk of: heats, ruts, scent glands, rutting, scenting, fated mates. Over-protective, obsessive. Innocent reader. Toxic/abusive father, gambling addiction. Alcohol, drugs. Talk of divorce, mentioning Priscilla. Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 4,4k+ unedited

Dividers by:@mmadeinheavenn and @crylynnluv

Everything is spinning like one of those damn globes on a stand. The music, it all just sort of becomes one big blur of a ringing sort of noise. The pheromones of a million horny teenage omega is just the thing to send an alpha like him into overdrive. The sweat drips in his eyes and as the people cheer his name but, he can only curse the name of one.

That damned so-called Doctor Nick got the dose wrong again or something. Because this feels like a migraine had a love child with a hungover and birthed the damned throbbing sensation in his head.

Doctor Nick was supposed to suppress his senses and now it only feels heightened by a million. What only makes it worse is the people begging for his attention after the show. Clinging to him more than the sweat clings to his hairy stomach.

"Sonny, God damn it, would yah leave me alone. All of yah!" His temper flares as a thick Southern rumble comes from him. His entourage all jump back, realising that the charming smile he gave on stage was as fake as it could come today.

He has no control over his alpha voice and everyone around him preens, baring their neck in submission. Not that he didn't love when people begged for his attention, except only when it didn't feel like someone was dead set on killing him.

His feet drag across the carpet floor and in his messy haze he chooses 3 instead of 30. The white LED lights match the colour of the rows and rows of doors. And right now, he couldn't give a damn if he was on some random floor he didn't entirely recognise. Instead, he just sort of slumps down against the wall. His stage outfit feels entirely too tight, and he claws around his bulge hoping for some sort of relief.

His head hangs in between his knees as chest heaves. Like his heart is going to explode. How long he sits there, he has no clue. But only when his hearing comes back it's sharply interrupted with a loud frustrated yell. And then the harsh slamming of the door. He doesn't bother to raise is head as his voice rumbles out.

"Would you stop it with that damn hollering!" But it's more a command than anything, and his words are met with a sharp inhale. His head very slowly and carefully raises, he expected some sort of fight back for his command. Or at least some sort of faffing about his name.

But his heart is quickly grabbed and twisted right out of his socket when his eyes meet with ones so big and watery.

A scent of an omega, so sickly sweet he hasn't smelled anything like it before. Like an over-ripe mango in the middle of summer. Nice and cold from the fridge, cooling your insides from the summer eat. The type you have to eat like the sloppy animal you are. Your teeth ripping into the soft flesh. The juices cover your mouth and drip-drip-drip down to your sweaty chest. Your hands a vibrant orange colour from the sweet nectar. And even days later when you lick your lips you can taste mango and nothing else.

And suddenly the ringing fades away as he feels guilt stab through him for yelling at something so fragile looking. A girl, but a little thing compared to him, sort of slumps down against the door, same as he had. She pulls her knees up against her chest and then fiddles with the hem of her much too short dress.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't know- I didn't think of- um-" She sort of stutters out an apology. Along with the honey covered fruit smell, she reeks of a beta. All around her like someone pissed on her feet to mark their scent.

But he just can't seem to find himself to care all too much about the weak response. "What's got you all fussy?" The alpha in him instantly wanting to coddle the little omega.

He leans his back against the wall as he rests his hands on his wide spread legs. Almost as if he's making himself bigger for the little girl to either be scared of him, or trust him, he doesn't entirely know yet. His chest puffs out and he licks his sharp teeth. She might reek of another man but he's quick to notice no mating mark.

"My papa, he's being a big... meanie." He almost had to stifle a laugh, that was most definitely not the response he was expecting. This 'papa' must be the one protecting or, or at least trying to, with his gasoline scent. "And why's that, little one?" Elvis asks, fighting off his iconic side smirk as he truly takes her in. As cute as a button, but with the body of a woman and yet dressed in something clearly not age appropriate.

"That's just the thing. I ain't so little no more. I just turned 18, I'm a big girl. He brings me to Vegas. I thought that meant I could do yah know, what grown ups do." Her voice rambles, still playing with the hem of her too short dress. He can see her cute little pink panties showing but she doesn't seem to realise it. Or at least if she does, she doesn't seem to know it's a bad thing. He spreads his legs wider, hoping for some relief.

"And what would that be?" Elvis can see when he just opens his mouth, a light dusting of pink falls on her cheeks before falling away again. "Yah know..." She mumbles, but it's clear that she isn't entirely all too sure. "No I don't, you'll have to tell me." His voice is coated with a condescending tone however it doesn't register with her. Instead she just sort of leans her neck to the side, already submitting to him. Such a weak little thing. No fight either.

Her front two teeth capture her bottom lip before letting it go with a pop. He can see her small little canines and his subconscious mind immediately thinks of how tiny her mark would look on his shoulder.

"Yah know... Talking about grown up stuff and dancing, all in pretty, fancy clothes." Elvis supposed that it could definitely be seen like that to someone like her. He however doesn't really want to break this bubble that she lives in and just nods, showing her to continue.

"But he won't let me. Just tells me that he's got himself into trouble with dangerous men and that I can't go out. What's that gotta do wit' me?" Things seem to slowly fall in place for the famous rock star. A gambling addict, in debt to one of the many mafia that seem to run this place. Trying to keep such a frigid omega safe. But clearly, this little one needs an alpha like him. To mark her, let the whole world know she’s his. "He's right. Vegas ain't all that they make it out to be."

She huffs, clearly not liking this answer and her tongue moves again. "How would you know? You ain't Elvis Presley." Now... now he really can't stop himself from smiling. "How would yah know, little girl?" Again, like before, she gets all wide-eyed when he uses a pet name like that. "My papa tells me Elvis is...is...a delinquent. Whatever that is... And a, uh, sexual deviant. And well, I don't really know what either o' those mean but I know yah ain't either of them."

An earthy deep rumble laugh escapes him. "Aren't yah just something?" He mumbles, shaking his head. Usually he'd be pissed off that someone would go around saying stuff like that about him. But the way she stumbles over the big words that don't register in her mind can only make him laugh. She so needs someone to take care of her. "And why would somethin' like yah want to go out in Vegas? Doin' all these adult thangs?"

She looks down, slightly embarrassed by his laugh. But also entirely unsure about this hot feeling that tickles her stomach when he laughs like that, or talks like that, or looks at her like that. Or this sticky substance that she feels coating her thighs.

"I like dancin'. But Papa don't like the way I dance, he don't like me dancin'. Says I'll end up becoming just like that Elvis fellow if I dance. But, a big girl like me should be able to do what she wants."

She sounds so sure of herself and now Elvis really has to see this dancing she's talking about. "Well, I suppose so. But if a sweet thing like you goes around doin' what she wants in a big girl place likes this, she'd get taken advantage of." Just like he's about to do now. But he just can't resist bringing this little thing out and seeing the look on her face as he corrupts her. Safe her for himself, make her see the way he wants. She’s so easily could be moulded into his.

She tilts her head to the side, like a confused puppy. Damn this damn costume really is too tight now. He stands, trying to adjust himself without her noticing.

"How about this, little girl. If your Papa leaves you all on your own again, you find the nearest elevator, m'kay?" Elvis speaks, a commanding, dominant, alpha tone in his voice as he points to her where to go. He knows the best gambling times are right before and during his shows, there are less people in there then. The Colonel is always gone at these times too...

Like an obedient dog she nods her head, looking up at him. Wide eyes swimming with the sweetness her scent carries. "Then you gon' press the button for the very highest floor. Once you're there, don't get scared when a big lookin' guy asks what yah lookin for. Just tell 'em that Aron is lookin' for his little lamb. Alright? He should show you 'round then. Alright?" She quickly scrambles to her feet.

She nods her head frantically, wiping her sweaty palms on her little dress, since everything suddenly just feels so hot. Elvis is quick to see the way her thighs rub together, a smirk falls on his lips and it takes everything in him not to groan. To not fuck her right here on the hotel floor and mark her as his.

What’s going on? He didn’t even mark Priscilla. He never felt this impossibly crazy, like a real fucking animalistic need to make her his...this just has to be something more.

"Okay Sir. And that's your name then? Aron?" Elvis winces slightly. He doesn't like people calling him that. Sounds like his mama is scolding him all over again. But he also, really, for now, doesn't want her to know who he really is. She’d sigh away, hearing what her father said about him. "It's uh my second name, I don't want you quite knowing my name yet, dollface. I gotta go now though. But you'll be a big girl and do as I ask?"

Her teeth find her bottom lip again as she fights off the whimper that threatens to escape her when he says something like that. Her pink lips become even pinker when her wet tongue grazes it. She leans against the door handle, needing some sort of support to keep herself up, as she nods, showing she'll listen. He gives his iconic smile. "Alright, good girl. See yah then."

The girl gently slides open the door. The smell of alcohol is strong in this little rented hotel room. But she doesn't care. She leans against the door, a big smile forms on her face and she lets out a dreamy sigh.

Her thighs clench together when she thinks about that southern drawl of his again. And she just can't help but wonder if it was fated for her to meet this beautiful big man.

He'll be damned. He didn't think that there was anyone left who didn't know what he looked like. Much less what he sounded like. His voice is just about everywhere these days and if she didn't recognise him at all it means he has discovered a gem he's been searching for. Someone who didn't treat him like the great Elvis Presley, but instead like some man.

And even if he is just some man to her, she looks up at him like he's got some way to grab the sun an the moon down for her. Even if they've only just met. And then, right on time exactly as he had thought he smells her before he hears a faint knock in the door. Shy and gentle, almost afraid the wood of the door might hurt her. He calls for her, his voice is like raw honey. Deep baritone alpha that he is.

He sees her head just barely peak out into the very dimly lit room. He can't help but let a lob sided smirk fall on his face. Just seeing her wide eyes, worried that everything about this might just be wrong. He holds out his arm, resting it on the backrest of the sofa.

"C'mere darlin'." She slowly closes the door and like a little mouse crawling towards a piece of cheese she steps towards him. He's quick to grab onto her tiny little dress, pulling her closer to him until her thigh is pressed against the outside of his leg.

She's already hot, he can feel it. He can't help but wonder when her next heat would be. Or if she's ever even had one, surrounded by her beta father all the time. And even if she had, he knows the sudden exposure to his smell is sure to bring it on soon enough. He gives it give or take a week, if he has to guess.

He's leaning back, his legs wide spread like the man he is. He's already in his stage outfit, just like she saw him last time. Her hair is tangled and he's sure if he were to check, the label of her dress would read "14-15 years." His hands trail up and rest on her hip, just wanting to keep her here. Keep her close. He could do so much for her. Make her so happy.

"I wanna show yah somthin', but yah gotta promise not to be mad, darlin'." Her face contorts and her head tilts to the side like a confused puppy. "Why would I get mad?" He lets out a slight sigh and then readjusts his pants. She's just too damn adorable for her own good. He wants to grab her into his arms and kiss her until she's squealing his name.

But he doesn't. Instead he licks his lips and speaks again. "You'll see, baby, you'll see." She hides her bottom lip in her front two teeth making her look like a little bunny. "Now, you wanna go like this or you want me to find yah somethin' else?" Then she let's go of her bottom lip and pushes it out in a pout.

She looks down, fiddling with the hem. "What's wrong with this?" Again he just sort of sighs, looking at how the dress is full of holes and sits just barely below her round bottom.

"Well, don't get me wrong, sweet thing, I really don't mind this look on yah. And I'll give the dress back to yah. But I gotta take care of yah, since your papa is away. An' I don't want men looking at this body of yers. Your Papa would be very upset." She bites her lip again, tearing away at the plump skin. He just can't help himself but take her chin and pull the lip out from he violent teeth.

Then slowly she nods her head, her head tilts to the side. "You talked to my Papa?" She asks, at least she has some sense of defence. "Oh yeah," Elvis lies, taking her delicate little hands in his. So mini, just like everything else of her. Softly squishing the small pads right below each finger on her palm. Slowly tracing higher on her wrist. His fingertips letting out as much of his scent as he can. That intoxicating sugary smell fills his nostrils.

"He said he wanted me to take care of yah, while he's busy." Her doe eyes follow his fingers, fully entranced. He can’t help but bring her wrist to his lips. Soft, so soft. She doesn't even question when he talked to his father, or what he’s doing, just sort of nods.

"A-alright. Gotta listen to yah." A smile prickles his cheeks when she says that. "Yes, exactly, sweet pea, now you understand." And his grin grows even wider when she preens for him.

Elvis smiles and nods, slowly standing up and walking to his closet. He gives her a once over, hell, he'll have to find some of 'Cilla's old clothes, give it a better scent that Priscilla’s overwhelming Iris smell that still lingers all these years. In any case, that might be all he can find that would fit her. He rummages through and suddenly takes a sharp breath when he finds it. A wide smile across his face as he holds it up for her to see.

Frilly pink dress from when 'Cilla was your age. And the moment this little girl sees it, she gets sparkles in her eyes. She bounces on her feet and he can see her hands are eager to grab at it. "Yah like it, little one?" Too excited to say anything, she just rapidly nods. She’s holding herself back as much as she can.

Elvis hands the dress to her, she's so so careful with it. And he knows his scent is all over it, he's likely rutted into that dress a few times. After he tries to comfort himself after the divorce. Savour all of the flowery smell he’s now all too glad to get rid of. So he just smiles when she raises the dress to her nose, taking soft breaths.

He sees the sweat bead on her forehead and she stutters, not understanding what's happening to her. He frowns, that shouldn’t be happening yet.

He then points to the bathroom, "Go on, put it on." It's almost as if she jumps into the bathroom. A low wolf whistle escapes him when she steps out in the pink frilly dress. She blushes like a sweet little strawberry made just for him to feast on. Rip into with his sharp canines.

"My, my, little thing...I'm gonna have to fight off the other men." He chuckles, his hands slowly finding her arms, his thumbs rubbing up and down. Somehow she becomes even pinker and it takes everything in Elvis not to lock her away right now.

"Now c'mere, let me brush yer hair." This time she doesn't ask questions, just nods and follows as he puts her down on the soft matted floor in front of a bed. He takes his brush and begins slowly brushing.

"I never did catch your name, little one." He mumbels, his hands slowly parting your hair in different sections. Making sure to 'accidently' graze your scent gland. Making sure his leather scent will stay. He loves the way your whole body shivers. And the name you give him too, sweet as the a honeysuckle. But he'll likely still prefer a cute nickname, how else will he get you all fussy? "An' you're an omega, right?"

Elvis is caught completely off guard when she tilts her head to the side. "What's that?" Bless the moon goddess above, Elvis shifts his hips forward. Almost resting his knee on your shoulder, loving the way you take deeper breaths.

He bites down on his lip and looks up at the mirrored ceiling. Trying to keep himself from taking her right now. And the damn suit is too tight again. "Yah don't know...?" She blushes and fiddles with the ruffles of her new dress.

"Papa homeschooled me. I don't know much of much." She says, quite ashamed of this but Elvis can only smirk. "An' where did yah grow up?" Elvis sees the way she tries to remember the name. "Something Mem...mem..." He chuckles, continueing to brush the knots out of her hair. "Memphis?" She nods, but just barely as to not bother his progress.

"Why, baby I'm from Memphis. How come I ain't never seen you b'fore?" Again she blushes, "Papa didn't let me out too often." That's an understatement, seeing how she's wearing children's clothes and doesn't even know what a second gender is. "You're killin' me here, baby." She seems terrified of the thought, "O-oh no, I don't want that-"

He chuckles, placing his large hand on her shoulder. He lets her now brushed out hair fall down. So long, never been cut before. "Don't worry, little omega, I'll teach you." She leans her head back, looking up at him upside down. "Yah will?" She asks, clearly so very hopeful. He nods, caressing her soft round cheeks. "Of course, your Papa asked me too." He lies.

"Now... everyone... I have a very special guest with me today," Elvis has the mic in hand standing in front of his various band members that keep this show going. They all wait in anticipation for his next word. He moves the mic to the side and turns to you. His arm reaches out as he gently guides you in front of him. "C'mere, little one."

You squeek, suddenly being at the attention of quite a few people. They all ooh and aah, looking over eachother at the tiny omega with the intoxicating smell. They can tell, Elvis has already scented as much of you as he could without you noticing. The little girl blushes even more when they all peak at her like some pet.

"Now, this little one tells me she likes dancin'." He says, the mic back up to his lips again. "Let's make some music she can dance to." He suggest to them and they holler and cheer at the thought.

Again he whispers to you. "Don't get all shy in me now. Show me that dancin' you were talkin' 'bout." Elvis speaks, his hand still in your arm. Needing to be touching you somehow at all times. You just nod, taking a gulp already feeling shy. But something in his voice almost forces your body to comply. An overwhelming, demanding need to do whatever he says.

"Alright, Glen, you gon' start us off." Elvis begins scatting into the microphone, letting the piano player follow his notes. "Get the bass up." They follow his command like he controls them.

"That's alright. That's alright. Any way you do~." The moment he begins singing it's like something comes over him. His legs and hips shaking as he feels the music. And as sure as hell, the same seems to happen to you.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," he repeats into the microphone, feeling the groove. "That's alright Mama, that's alright wit' you, that's alright Mama, any way you do~" He directs his words to the sweet little omega he found. Who is moving her hips like she was born to do so. And he's certain if his Mama were here to see it, she'd be crazy about you.

He can't help but take your hand, spinning you so that your back is against his chest. He grabs your hips and presses it against his. "That's alright, that's alright now mama, any way you do," the way he grabs his southern drawl from the very depth of his stomach makes your gut clench and that stickiness forms around your thighs again. You bite down, really not wanting to ruin your new dress.

"Now mama she done told me, papa told me too, son that gal' you foolin' with ain't no good for you." His hips jerk in movement with yours and he feels just about 20 years younger in that moment.

Your two bodies move like you've planned this whole thing beforehand. His large hand on your waist, gripping you as your hips move together. As if all his years of fighting for his right to dance on stage has paid off in the form of this cute little omega who moves like she'd been made for him.

You feel his pudge rest just above the curve of your ass. Something hard pressing against your back and you chase this sort of giddy feeling forming in the bottom part of your body. Like adrenaline is forming in your stomach. And these butterflies that cause your thighs to press together. His smell, you've never smelt anything like it before. Leather, lemon and sandalwood.

It all comes from this hot and heavy sweat that makes him look so shiny. It bewitches you and makes your vision hazy. Makes you want to press your face in his dripping hairy chest where before you'd cringe at the thought. The urge to lick it up like a dehydrated animal burns under in your belly. You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself. What’s happening? What are these strange thoughts you’re having?

It’s as if he's burning down all your defences, making you feel things you've never felt before. See things you've never seen them before. Chase after things you never thought to chase before. What is this you're feeling? So hot, so so hot. Burning. His scent is burning you up and the only place that feels cool is where he touches you.

Elvis notices it immediately. The way your eyes glaze over when you look at him, your breast perk up as if your body is trying to sell itself. And your sickly sweet fruit scent develops into that of intoxicating alcohol.

A sweet gin that you could so easily drink straight from the bottle. No need for tonic. He doesn’t even like alcohol but he needs to taste more. It makes his head swirl and he grips your waist tighter and bends down.

He presses his nose down into your scent gland. His canines grow, he licks the crook of your neck. No omega or beta or even a weak alpha could notice the change so slightly. But he does, it's like he's gotten the manual to your body and has dedicated his life to studying it. "Come on, baby, give me just a few more hours. Can’t you wait just a bit longer?”

Elvis begs and pleads and you’re entirely sure what for. Or if you can give him what he wants this time...

I don't know if I'm going to write a second part, but if I do, comment to be added to that taglist!

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aspenthewriter · 1 year ago

Note

I love velvet so much so what about fem!reader and velvet first kiss

I just remembered for a moment that velvet still about teen age and it seems to me that it would be awkward in some sense

ANOTHER REQUEST?! Holy shit YALL-

but uhh sure anon thanks for the request!

Velvet x Fem!reader {first kiss}

Fandom: Trolls 3/band together

warnings: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, minor grammatical errors

Pairing: velvet x fem!reader

Velvet and you have been dating for about a month, and EVERYBODY KNOWS- they’ve been begging to see you! So whenever it went around that there was a special guest in Velvet and Veneers new show, mount rageous definitely lived up to its name…

It was 10 minutes before show time and you were nervous as hell, you hadn’t preformed it years!… oh I didn’t mention that yet did I?

a couple years ago you where a nation wide singer and a very talented one at that. Everyone loved you, but due to a injury involving your leg you where not able to preform on stage… you kinda just lost interest and never preformed again

you where shaking.. almost tearing up from nervousness and anxiety.. Velvet noticed this, and asked what was wrong

“I-i can’t do this! I haven’t performed in years… what if I’m bad at singing? What if I fuck up!”

“Hey you’ll do great, you have one of the best voices I’ve ever heard… after mine of course, but like I said you’ll do amazing!” Velvet helped you get ready, you looked absolutely fabulous, and with velvet and veneers help your confidence level was pretty high

they then left to go preform, and you just had to wait for your grand entrance…

fog covered the state and a platform rows from the ground and you started singing along with velvet in veneer, the crowd was fucking shocked, jaws dropped

you a solo and velvet was silently cheering you on

after that she spun you around, dipped you and kissed you

it was the best kiss you’d ever had, her lips tasted like a mixture of coconut and mango

it was so passionate and you wished it lasted longer than 3 seconds

in that moment you where in pure bliss

They continued at normal after that you kept singing with them and after the show had ended people kept tagging you in videos of you and velvet kissing and you couldn’t stop the heat rising onto your cheeks

“I guess people really love us huh?”

“I-i guess so…”

She grabbed your waist and pulled you into another kiss… thank god veneer was still giving people uni-brows other wise he wouldn’t stop taking photos

“I love you poppet”

“I love you too..”

Omg I couldn’t stop kicking my feet the entire time I was writing this-

hope YALL enjoy this, first actual fanfic in a while

bye pookies 🫶

-Aspen out

#velvet trolls #velvet and veneer #velvet x reader #trolls 3 #trolls band together

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ramayantika · 11 months ago

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Sakal Ban

Oh look how the streets have been adorned with colourful banners and flower boughs. The flags of my kingdom fly high on the beautiful carved towers, showing the grandeur of my city.

It's the time of the Spring festival. The fields look as golden as the sun with mustard flowers sprouting from the brown soil, their slender stalks flowing in the flower-laden spring breeze, and maidens wearing colourful robes with chiming anklets on soft red-dyed feet run through the golden fields.

I used to be one of them ages ago. These young girls donned in light shaded robes look as beautiful blooms of the royal garden, which used to be a place for my secret trysts with the handsome young lover, who is still elegant and regal as ever, but alas, no longer mine.

Mango buds hang from the branches, and little children play with stones and pebbles under the young tree. Somewhere in the distance, in the extravagant places of the courtly dancers and musicians, I see a lovely maiden adorn flowers in her braid.

Oh, honeybees, you traverse in circles

around the lone nectar-filled bloom in vain.

When you have the whole garden behind her head

Why go for the single little flower of a shrub?

I make my way through the crowded colourful streets once again like I do every Spring Festival, every year and pay my respects at the Nizamudin's shrine.

Dusty paths permeate with a fragrance of jasmine and lavender, and the bazaars are teeming with sweet shops, with small vendors selling savoury snacks. A husband gently feeds a milk sweet to his wife who glows with the little child growing inside her.

I clutch my stomach, and my heart grows fond but also silently weeps at the fate that I was shown but mercilessly snatched away from.

The chitter-chatter of the streets grow louder. In every courtyard, poets and singers sing verses of lovers and romantic union in spring. The patronisers of art fling their gold and silver in fine silk bundles.

And finally the Royal trumpet blows. The crowd stills. The garden girls with large flower garlands stand on the sides, their smiley faces glowing under the pleasant sun. I smile too.

The palanquin bearing the queen enters the street to the shrine. I caress the ring on my finger, a metallic symbol of a broken promise of yesteryears.

The soldiers cheering the empress's name flank the palanquin. Her maidservants and handmaidens donning simple shades and cotton skirts that lightly flutter in the wind walk by. The crowd amazed at all the riches, power and grandeur swoon in delight.

And then the announcer announces the arrival of the empress. He rules over everyone. He rules over our hearts and souls, but foremost mine, even when I can no longer claim his heart, forget the soul anymore, but some springs before, he was all mine, body, heart and soul, where we claimed each other in the golden fields of mustard blooms.

And fate is a popular jester, its jabs hurt the heart at times, but you have to keep smiling, keep laughing, for the show must go on. Life must go on.

An old singer sings:

woh mohe awan keh gaye ashiq rang aur beet gaye barson, sakal ban, phool rahi sarson sakal ban

The emperor hasn't once seen my eyes in all these years, and I never crossed my fate with his. Not all wishes come true at the shrine, and not all promises can be kept.

For some hearts, there is never warm beautiful spring

All they get is a merciless cold winter until death claims their breath,

With Death granting an illusionary hope of a sweet union in the afterlife...

Fate, a cruel jester! The emperor's eyes meet my steely ones. A lone drop falls and I drag the thin veil around my face. The Spring breeze burns my flesh, it's cool winds freezing my once warm and hopeful heart.

But the show must go on, and the Emperor of my city, the lovely Prince of my youth, the sole Ruler of my heart walks away majestically on the royal elephant.

Not once does he turn back and I feel the sharp chilly winds of winter enter my heart.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Tags: @alhad-si-simran @houseofbreadpakoda @swayamev @arachneofthoughts @krishna-priyatama @navaratna @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @madoucesouffrance @jessbeinme15 @kaal-naagin @aesthetic-aryavartik @krsnaradhika @krishnaaradhika .

Um so I have been listening to Sakal ban from heeramandi. Looked up to the translation a little and I am writing this inside my Pharmaceutical analysis lab before viva which I am actually not prepared for but we ball.

Please please tell me how it was okay. I haven't written, read and danced due to this continuous shower of exams and it feels so restless and suffocating. I was desperate so wrote this on my phone. So, yes, do leave reviews, comments etc.

Maybe I will post a dance cover after internals later on.

Also, if there are others who wsnt to be included in my writing taglist, do let me knowm

#samridhi writes #desiblr #sakal ban #stories

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my5unday · 7 months ago

Text

lps2012 tumblr, me and my friend @octonauter have cooked up a satirical vinnil fanfiction.. hope you enjoy 😭 (dont mind any spelling mistakes and stuff im too lazy to read through the whole thing and fix stuff). We were planning on writing a serious fanfic but veryy quickly turned into this demon

Beach Day or Bleak ay -

It was the hottest day of the summer. The pets lazily laid in front of the only fan in the pet shop

It was shop, all the pets lazing around in the hot summer heat. “This sucks” they say in unison “yes” vinnie agreed, being the only one who didn't say in unison. Pepper then hit him in the head with rubber chicken, “ow!! What was that for” he said sadly “You were out of unison, moron” she replied. Vinnie scoffs, he rolls his eyes and walks away from the crowd. He decides to go to the fire hydrants which is his usual space where he spends time alone

Vinnie began writing in his diary “Dear Dairy, its me again. Pepper is such a conniving, insolent, beastly woman! I curse upon thee the sorrows of a thousand dead widows. He heard a scream from outside the fire hydrant, it was shrill and raspy, peppers voice to be exact. “What I do” he said, slowly peering out of the fire hydrant to get a look at what might've happened. She got stuck by lightning, the pets crowded around her in panic. There was available hole in the ceiling of where the lighting stuck from. She lay on the pet shop floor, rolling in agony burnt like an egg on the florida sidewalk. Vinnie gasped and went back to hiding. Blythe soon arrived on the scene and called the pet ambulance, pepper was soon taken away and Blythe announced their next plan.

“Pets, I know that was REALLY crazy, but we deserve to get our minds off of pepper for a bit. What about a beach trip!” all the pets cheered while the hip upbeat guitar transition music played in the background, except for Vinnie who was still processing what he had just done. He started to hyperventilate but sunil though he was challenging him to a fast breathing contest so he started rapidly huffing and puffing harder than the big bad wolf ever could [vinnie being the big bad wolf] Sunil glared angrily at Vinnie as they continued this one sided competition. Vinnie said “ENOUGH!” and stormed off, Sunil looked at him confused and then it shrugged off as vinnie just being a bad sport.

***

“Somethings going on with vinnie…” Russel said a suspicious tone in his voice, minkas jaw DROPPED

“WHAT???” shock etching every corner of her monkey face

“Yeah.. you heard me. Don't you think its WEIRD how as soon as vinnie left to the fire hydrant, pepper got smited” he suspicious

Minka started jumping up and down and screaming at Minka and looked at Russell as if he just killed her family of 1 [her].

The pet bus arrived at the beach, blythe in her blythe styleish swimsuit that we aren’t getting paid enough to describe. Sunil was wearing the most fabulous swim shorts designed by Blythe truly. They were solid black with mangos with a seamless red to yellow to green ombre. The leaves of the mangos were embellished with opulent rhinestones of a diverse plethora of chroma. The material Blythe used was exceptional, and provided for utmost comfort as Sunil wore them. The drawstrings of the swim shorts were made of a glow in the dark material [incase Sunil happened to find himself at the bottom of the ocean.] Finally the back of the swimshorts said “Juicy”, in an attempt to imitate the luxury brand Juicy Couture. It was truly a divine masterpiece work of art. Opulent.

Vinnie started burying himself in the sand to ignore the rest of the pets and hide from his guilt, he might as well live there for the rest of his life. He pulled out his sopping wet diary that he forgot was in his pocket before it was too late, it was completely damaged and unsalvageable. “I should've gotten rid of this stupid thing years ago anyways!” he yelled, throwing it out into the distance. Meanwhile Sunil stood on the beach near the water gazing down at it but not stepping in, he suddenly felt a weightful force crash into his noggin and send him flying across the ocean with an intense and unpredictable speed. He screamed in terror flailing around. Minka started recording. He landed on something smooth, relived he sighed, until he looked down and saw he was laying on a shark. He screamed once again and started to swim away as fast as he could. “BLYTHE!!!!!! I NEED YOU TO SAVE ME R IM GOING TO BE EATEN BY THIS aaauGGHHAAAAAA” he yelled being cut off by the shark chasing after him.

Penny Ling looked around, “Say.. where is Blythe..” Blythe wasnt responsive , she was playing dress to impress on roblox and was too locked in on her outfit to pay attention to anything else. Despite the fact that Youngmee, Sue, Jasper, Mrs Twombly, her father, all the pets owners and cousins and all the horses and all the king's men were calling her on her phone she still persisted on playing her game [the theme was Beach day].

Vinnie felt at fault for all of this, including Blythes crippling, deprecating, disgusting addiction/fixation on dress to impress [he introduced it to her]. If he hadn’t smited Pepper with his diary, Sunil wouldn't be drowning while being chased by sharks. He mustered [mustard] up all the mustard in his body [courage] and ran into the ocean at full force

“I'LL SAVE YOU SUNIL!” Vinnie yelled. Youngmee, Sue, Jasper, Mrs Twombly, her father, all the pets owners and cousins and all the horses and all the king's men all stared in unison at Vinnie’s amazing feet as he blazed across the water like a trail of fire to save sunil. At that point, Vinnie could only see Sunil’s paw sticking out of the water, which was also hard to see given the ocean water was the same color as his fur. Sunil sank. Vinnie divedin after him, racing down the water to catch up to his sinking body, he was unable to spot him until eye spying with his little eye, glowing in the water! The emergency glow in the dark shorts! from his drawstrings! Despite her disgusting addiction to dress to impress, Blythe was a genius! Then vinnie swept him out of the water graciously and swiftly, water exploding all around them where they emerged. Their spinning wet bodys reflecting in the sun. All the kings men or whatever stared in awe.

“I got first place with my outfit!” Blythe squealed in excitement, not paying attention to a sliver of what just unfolded. Vinnie laid Sunil on the soft, yet scorching hot sand [cause it's the hottest day of the summer] like it was his fourth of July party. Sunil was still unconscious. Blythe was still too focused to help, he thought… This only meant one thing. Youngmee, Sue, Jasper, Mrs Twombly, her father, all the pets owners and cousins and all the horses and all the king's men gathered around vinnie and sunil as they watched the INSANE scene about to fold in front of them. Vinnie pressed his lips to Sunil like it was his October third party in 2002 at 1:06AM [Eastern standard time] “It’s just cpr… it’s just cpr…” he thought to himself, but with every puff of air his mind wandered away from just saving his best friend. Sunil awoken and gasped, he looked around in fear and confusion, shaking and sputtering out incoherent words. He had had a thumb sized cut on his cheek [he has a FAT thumb]. “Shh… It’s okay Sunil… I’m here…” he said in a hush. Sunil screamed and ran away, his footprints in the sand like Cinderella's slippers. And NO ONE could find him… He must be embarrassed by the cpr, Vinnie thought, and chased after him like Prince Churning.

The trail ended behind a rock, where Sunil was crouched behind a rock, weeping ever so softly. Vinnie slowly walked up to Sunil, trying not to startle the mongoose. “Hey, Sunil… I know I just gave you cpr and stuff but… you don’t have to be all sad about it, y’know.” He put his hand on his shoulder. Sunil looked back at him with the most softest eyes, amber glowing golden in the hot sun [it being the hottest day of the year afterall] his soft eyes then turned sour [stream olivia rodrigo], he was angry at vinny for embarrassing him in front of all of the kings horses and all the king's men. “This is all YOUR fault! If you hadn't thrown that STUPID diary, don't think i didn't see what it said before i fell into the water. “I curse upon thee the sorrow of a thousand dead widows ?!” YOUR the one who smitted pepper. And we don't even know if she's going to survive!” his voice cracked with emotion, tears swelling up in his humongous amber eyes, the salt of the tears stinging the thumb-sized scar on his face. . Vinnies breathing began to quicken uncontrollably, he became lightheaded and the world spun around him. His heart pounded in his chest as he hyperventilated. This WAS all his fault… “And ENOUGH of that breathing competition, you are so.. so.. IMMATURE!” he rolled his eyes

Vinnies heart was in a million pieces. He truly believed Sunil felt what he felt when he was giving him cpr, it turned out to be all a delusion.

TO BE CONTINUED…..?

[i hope not]

#lpscommunity #lps 2012 #sunil nevla #vinnie terrio #vinnil?????#littlest pet shop #fanfiction #pepper gets smited

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alien-magnolia · 2 years ago

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Nisoaia — Pt II

Fic description: ADULT dom coded neteyam x ADULT sub coded fem!omaticaya reader, living in Metkayina reef. Other canon navi characters involved — the clan is made aware of the pregnancy. A combination of slice of life + angst and heavy smut. Jealousy, time skips, pregnancy woes.

Tw: SMUT. 18+ minors DNI - breeding kink, predator/prey kink, bj, unprotected sex, dom!Neteyam , subby!fem reader, protectiveness, violence, etc

Na’vi terms:

Yawne- My Beloved

Yuey - My Beautiful

Muntxate- my mate (wife)

Oel Ngati Kameie- I see you

Tsaheylu- the bond

Teylu- type of food

itan- child

taronyu - hunter

The sun shone brightly across your face, warming you to the core. You awoke to the mat empty, your Nete sitting across from you, in the corner. He notices your awakening, and runs over to you with a large plate of fruit. “Good morning, ma yuey. How did you sleep?,” he asks, while pulling you in for a tender kiss. “Well, ma Teyam. What is all this?,” you gesture to the fruit, returning his kiss with enthusiasm.

“For you, ma yuey. You must eat now, be healthy for the baby, ma ita’n… ( my child) You grab the fruit in your hand — a delicious purple fruit with leaves on top, sweet blue juices on the inside. It is called yoko fruit. Your fangs bite into it — the taste so sweet, like those sky person fruit —mango, that your (now family) Jake sully introduced you to. The family — how will they make of your pregnancy?

Nete senses your worry, a large arm coming over to caress your back. You smile and lean into him, sharing the yoko fruit. After breakfast, the both of you decide to make your way over to the Sully family hut.

Neytiri is sitting on the floor, carving a knife out of sandalwood. Jake must have been out on a hunt. Tuk is nearby, watching. Nete’s brother must have been out exploring the beach with Tsireya. You look out over the reef’s horizon from the shade of the hut, Kiri’s silhouette can be seen in the shallow depths of the azure waters.

“Mother,” Nete states to get Neytiri’s attention, bringing you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. Neytiri’s eyes shoot forward, glancing between the two of you. “What is it, ma itan?,” (my son) she asks. Nete takes a deep breath in.

“My mate is with child. Tsahik confirmed it yesterday,” he explains, you felt his anxiety, his tail moving erratically behind the two of you. “Neytiri smiles, both you and Nete breathe a sigh of relief. “It is wonderful news, ma itan,” she smiles at him, embracing him in a hug. She turns to you. “Eywa has blessed you, ma ‘ite,” (daughter) she smiles, as she hugs you as well.

“You will be sa’nok!! (mother) How are you feeling? My very first pregnancy did not feel too comfortable, too much pain , ah Eywa…,” she trails off. You retell the events of yesterday, your fainting spell on the beach, how Nete found you, and all. She lets you know that she is excited to have another member of the sully family. Nete and you then go to find Jake, who is bound to return from a hunt soon.

“Father. My mate is with child,” Nete exclaims to him, as the two of you find him in the reef, just getting off his skimwing. “I am proud of you, my son. Proud of you too, ma ‘ite. We must tell the people at tonight’s meeting in the caves,” Jake explains.

So, it was arranged. The entire clan was to know of your pregnancy, since all Na’vi clans were tightly bonded, every member of this reef clan was family.

—————- Night — Metkayina cave —————

“One of our warriors has an announcement. Please,” Tonowari exclaims, stepping aside off the center rock to make room for you and Neteyam. Nete holds your hand as he leads you up to the center of the rock. He announces that you are now with child, the clan yells, cheers, hollers. Everyone is extremely invested in the birth process of a new Na’vi being. You blush as Nete pulls you in for a kiss, in front of the exalted crowd, and puts his hand on your belly once more. You were just too busy embracing Nete to notice one of the men in the back trail off from the meeting, into the darkness…

After the clan meeting, Nete and you walk back to the reef in order to get to the connected driftwood huts. You wrap your arms around him as he helps you get onto his skimwing. The two of you make your way back across the reef to the huts.

“Nete! Let’s stop here. I want to collect a few shells for the songcord,” you tell him. “Okay ma yuey. But be quick. I will go to our hut to prepare some dinner. Maybe teylu.” You smile as a confirmation, and he gives you a tender kiss before he jogs back to your now shared hut, he was eager to make dinner for his pregnant mate.

You stroll along the same sand in which you fainted the night before, finding the most beautiful, bioluminescent shells. You wondered which one will fit right for your future child!! All of a sudden, you feel a hand grab you. It was not big, you knew and felt immediately that it was not Neteyam.

You whisk around to see a strangely familiar Na’vi man. You did not know of his name or immediate relatives, but you have seen him around. He would always look at you, sometimes even following you. You never thought any of it. Your inner sense of safety told you that you were wrong — and most of all, that you were in danger.

“My, you are quite beautiful, yawne,” he stares at you hungrily. “I have always kept my eye on you, and you just look even better when you’re pregnant…,” he trails off with a low chuckle. You are just frozen in fear, you did not know what to do — or what he was going to do with you. You were a healer, not taronyu. You didn’t have much skill.

He backs you up against the sand, he keeps walking toward you, you keep moving back. “Do not be afraid…I won’t hurt you, just yet,” he chuckles, and then grabs you by the neck. He is too close to you at this point, and you feel his hands start to trail down to between your thighs. You shout for your mate, both out loud and in your mind. You try to push your assaulter's hands away, but it is no use.

All of a sudden, the man is thrown away from you in the opposite direction. You fall onto the sand, and see Nete hovering over you. “My mate. Are you okay? Did he hurt you??,” he insistently asked. You had never seen him so concerned and yet so angry before. “He touched me, Nete…I feel violated,” your voice cracks as you manage to put the words together. Nete’s hand caresses your cheek. “It’s okay, my love. I’ll take care of him.”

With that he leaves your side, walks ahead to where that horrible Navi still lay on the beach. You couldn’t watch as you saw your mate completely pummel him into the ground. There was a lot of blood spilled. You worry, running over to Nete.

“Please! That is enough. You don’t want to kill him, Nete. The Olo’eyktan will decide what to do with him.” He does listen to you, stopping, putting his knife away. He wipes some blood off his face as he gets up to examine you again.

“Where did he hurt you, ma yuey? It is making me so angry, how could he put his filthy hands on you,” he exclaims. “He touched me here, ma Teyam…you quietly explain, as tears begin to fall from your face. Nete offers his queue as comfort, you gladly take it and connect it with yours. He sees everything that has happened in your memory. He feels your pain, you feel his anger.

“Come, yawne. He will not touch you no more. I will make sure of this. We can visit the spirit tree underwater, hopefully Eywa can help us. We will go take him to Olo’eyktan,” he states. You agree, too shaken to even form any words. He takes your hand, leading you away from the beach. The both of you find Tonowari, who will decide what to do with him tomorrow. The two of you get into your hammock, queues connected as you fall asleep together.

The man who assaulted you was exiled from the clan the following day. Ever since then, Nete became even more protective of you, especially as you began to get big. He would never leave your side, always accompanying you on your walks on the beach. He’d swim in the reef with you too, always not too far behind you as you explored the colorful life underwater.

You had to admit — you loved it when he was so protective over you and your growing child. Your nights with him were simply amazing — you’d lay with your head against his chest, queues connected, the two of you both looking at the stars. His hand would always be on your bump, tracing patterns, or just holding you when the baby’s kicks would be too painful.

He had wanted to make tsaheylu more, he knew how hard of a pregnancy this has been for you. He made the bond with you while you were sick, or fatigued, nauseous, or cramping. He helped you through your pain, always having the most comforting words to say to you, rubbing your back and always giving you cuddles if you asked.

You had pretty low self esteem as you got bigger — it was just all part of the experience. Nete seemed to disagree. “You are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you before, yawne. You were beautiful then, you still are. You will get through this,” he affirmed.

One of your favorite things to do was to wash yourself in the reef with him, usually you’d swim off the coast as to be far from the view of the huts. He’d hold your hand while you were swimming, taking a break every time you asked. “Easy, ma yuey. Don’t want to stress the baby,” he would say, as he guided you into the water, a protective hand over the small of your back (which has gotten quite large because of your bump!)

You stayed in the water with him, as you washed each other’s hair, and bodies. He would always want to help you more than you helped him. You had to admit, you loved being coddled like this by him. It only made you love him more. Your baths would usually end in a splash fight between the two of you. He’d giggle, splashing you. You’d splash back. “Get back here, Nete!,” you’d cheerfully yell at him. He would always come back, and lift you up in the water, in his strong arms. You’d trace the fiber of his warrior’s band on his bicep, and he would always pepper your face in kisses. You could stay in the water with him for hours.

He would only leave you if you were with his family, and you didn’t mind. You loved spending a day on the reef with his sisters, or talking with Neytiri about how your pregnancy was going. “Nete is just so sweet and doting on me. You think he will still do the same, even after the child is born?,” you ask her, as the two of you sit on the sand, carving weapons.

“Yes, ma ‘eveng. (Child) Jake was like this with me too. These men in our lives have a job to do, a purpose. They protect and care for their family. Ma Jake never stopped, even after almost ten years. Nete will be the same, he has a strong heart. He gets it from his dad,” she wistfully explains to you.

“Irayo, (thank you) Neytiri. I feel better about it now. She smiled, she was glad she could ease your worries. Later that night, Nete comes back from a hunt to find you laying in the hut, bored out of your mind. You looked disinterested to him, but he did not know that your hormones were at play here. After your talk with Neytiri, you went home and started to miss him, a little too much.

~ smut ~

You smiled when you heard his footsteps in the hut, turning around. “Nete. Missed you,” you say, as you grunt and slowly get up to greet him. You press yourself up against him, standing on your tippy toes to give him a hug and a few kisses. He chuckles.

“Ma yuey. You really missed me, huh? What’s gotten into you?”

The pregnancy had you not too eager for sex a lot, but something changed tonight. You wanted him!! “Want you, Nete. Please,” you beg. He chuckles again, running a hand over your bump. “I’m scared to hurt you, ma paskalin. Don’t want to be too rough. You have no idea how much seeing you like this turns me on… seeing you all round and pretty for me…,” he trails off.

He pushes you against the wall, still being gentle (oh Eywa how you loved him) attacking you with kisses, on your lips, your neck, your chest. His strong arms come to grip you so so tightly, you feel his long, slender, fingers trail down to graze on your heat. You just couldn’t with all this teasing. You feel his fingers brush over your heat, slow, tantalizing, strokes, so gentle but brought you so much pleasure. “Nete…,” you moan out. “Please. Want you in me…”

“Ah ah, ma yuey,” he tuts. “Want to see this pretty little pussy first, see how wet she is for me, hmm?” With that, he bends down, draping your leg over his shoulder. His hand holds your bump so as to not put any strain on your back, he gives your heat a few messy kisses, having you gasping and shaking. “Can’t stand, Nete, can’t take it!!,” you begin to whine. “So needy for me, my beautiful wife. I’ll take care of you. Shh. Mawey (calm.)

He gently lifts you, bringing you over to the bed. His hand caresses your bump. “No pain here, right, my love?” You nod, soothing his worries. He spreads your legs, his larger arms coming over your smaller body to cage you close to him. He takes off his loincloth, pushing it aside, you see his weeping cock, with a little bead of precum at the top. A shade of dark blue at the cockhead, and a lighter blue, striped, wide body with a little vein to the left :) Perfect! Oh Eywa, how you wanted to take him in your mouth.

“Don’t be shy, my love. Give me a few kisses if you really want to,” he coos at you. He helps you get up off your back (since your bump was just so big!) and you give his cock a few kitten licks, up and down the shaft!! You give his heavy balls a few kisses too, of course, even grabbing them in your small hand! His cock just gets even more harder, until he can not stand the teasing he got from you.

“Ma yuey. On your back,” he commands, and you do as said, still he carefully helps you back down.

You feel his soft mushroom tip move in between your folds, his thick cock pulsating between your legs! “Nete!!,” you yell at him, your fingers clawing at his broad back. Enough of the teasing — you just wanted to be stuffed full of your mate’s cock, this instant.

“Mawey, my love. You are like wild animal. Mawey,” he tuts at you, and with that, you feel him push into you all at once. Your tight cunt squeezes around him, milking his cock for all he’s got. His pulsating length is in you, as deep as he can go. His queue connects to yours, he feels your searing need for him, you feel his fear of hurting you, and his primal urge to just fuck you full.

Your queues connected, he knows what you want. He stills in you, you just feel him in you, it feels so good, so right!! “Nete. Fast. Please.” That was all he needed.

He puts you in a mating press, starting to rut into you at a speed you couldn’t even fathom that he’d manage. Yet he did. Every thrust, you lost yourself more and more as he rocked you on his thick length, smiling, predatory, cooing at you, telling you how good you were doing for him. His sharp fangs on your soft blue neck, his forehead against yours — Eywa, you were losing it.

It ended with a blast of white hot pleasure, that coil in your stomach, in his, feeling both his and your orgasm at the same time. He was a firework, and you were the spark that lit him up.

The both of you fell asleep shortly after, however, not before Nete checking to see if he hurt you by accident. Oh Eywa, how you loved your caring mate.

You arose the next morning with a sharp pain in your abdomen. It could only mean one thing — your child was finally coming. Nete realized this in an instant. You were so glad to have such a loving mate, he instantly carried you over to a cave off the shores, making tsaheylu with you. He felt the pain of your labor, but all the while kept holding your hand and reassuring you. “Mawey, ma yuey. You are very strong. You will get through this,” he spoke very softly to you, eyes soft, a comparison to your uneven screaming at the moment. Ronal was there to help, others came along to gather outside and wait for the little Navi to arrive. Your close family, and Teyam’s too were waiting outside, they were worried about you. You knew that you only felt safe to go through this with your mate and Tsahik to guide you. Nete held your hands in his tight grip,

After a few long, excruciating hours, you finally pushed out your new daughter. Aviya te tshaka Neteyam’ite, her full name. Aviya. The both of you smiled down at her, you had a few tears in your eyes. Here she was, your daughter. “We did it, my love,” your mate whispers as Aviya grabs his finger, gently.

You were finally together as a family, who will have a wonderful life on the bright shores of Metkayina islands.

a/n: Besties. after a month I'm back! Had a lot going on but ill be posting more now for sure. enjoy this fic, and lmk if you want a part 3!

Avatar taglist: @23victoria @aerangi @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jake-sullys-whore

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x pregnant!reader #neteyam fluff #liz writes 🖤#liz’s masterlist

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lordadmiralfarsight · 1 year ago

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Why is Leftblr plagued by political Karens ?

And no, I can't think of any other way to refer to so, so, so many of you who gleefully cheer for Hamas, deny or justify their crimes, apply a double standard against Israel (always in favour of the terrorist organisation, always), and so on and so forth.

Make no mistake, what Israel is doing in Gaza is horrible (though I would argue there's little alternative considering Hamas' goals and behaviour so far), and it's getting especially awful and violent in the West Bank, with too little oversight and far too much political complicity from the current Israeli government.

But what I'm talking about, in your behaviour, is in direct relation to the 7/10 attack, not what's happening in the West Bank.

You don't look at their ideology. Do you know what the ideology of Hamas is ? It's the same as Al Qaeda, the same as ISIS, the same as Boko Haram. It's violent, totalitarian islamism. It is intolerant and hateful, it wants to kill all who do not fit its mold. They openly - OPENLY - said they wanted to take over the world, and that once they were done with the Jews (the Jews, not the Israeli, the JEWS) it would be the Christians' turns. Does that sound like someone you want to cheer on ? Does that sound tolerant and acceptant ?

For me, as a French, all Hamas is, is another form of the monsters that killed hundreds in the Bataclan. That sent a truck through the crowd in Nice on the Promenade des Anglais. That murdered and took hostages in the Hyper Kasher.

It's the same cruelty and hate, the same interpretation of Islam that pushed Mohammed Merah to murder children in school in 2012. Because those kids were Jewish.

And all I can think, when I watch how you react ... how you cheer on Hamas ... is that it isn't the acts that bother you. It's whether it has the right stickers, the right buzzwords associated to it.

You're like a Karen, ranting and throwing a tantrum, because the mangos don't have the little organic sticker.

It's not an organix, marx-fed terror attack, so you don't like it. But the one in Israel, oh this one, it has the sticker, you're sure of it. You put it there yourself, because it is much, much more socially acceptable, in your little social circle of murderous, bloodthirsty political Karens to stamp your little Revolution-certified sticker on that particular terror attack.

But it's the same ideology, Karen. The mangos are identical. The murders are the same. The only real difference is the numbers.

And you can go "But IDF in Gaza D:" all you want. All I hear, is that you're willing to support ISIS, Al Qaeda and Boko Haram, so long as they put the right stickers on their murders.

You don't need to cheer for the monsters. You don't need to cheer for ISIS under a different flag.

You can criticize Israel without being antisemitic, as you keep saying. Maybe you should start doing that.

#israel/palestine #israel #palestine #antisemitism #karen #political karen #they want their organic revolution-certified terror attacks #It's about self image #the loss of life is immaterial #you cheer on Hamas you cheer on ISIS #you cheer on Hamas you cheer on Al Qaeda #You cheer on Hamas you cheer on Boko Haram #hamas #hamas attack #leftblr #leftist

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kawaii-leilei54 · 6 months ago

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EP.2: Who are you again?

Genre: strangers to potential lovers?, crack, slight pining, tsudere Yoongi, drinking

You didn't want to go.

You really didn't

But it was either go or hear your friend complain about how you never go anywhere and it's the reason you'll never get any.

And you were gonna hear the end of it either.

"Come on." She whines as she drags you to walk to the bar.

"Soo, what the hell is this?" You ask as you glare at your friend, just wanting to go home and crochet in peace.

"Tada!" She exclaimes as she puts her arms out, showing off the bar.

"My boyfriend works here so he was able to get us in for free." She says as she wiggles her eyebrows.

You sigh.

You loved Soo. You really did.

And so you follow her inside, the loud whiff of alcohol and regret hitting your nose.

Your face scrunches and you instantly look around for the bar, already needing a shot.

She walks up to the lit up bar, sitting at the counter.

You follow, sitting down, though the material of the chair was irritating your thighs.

"Hey Soo, what can I get you?" The man says, a towel over his arm and a warm dimples smile on his lips.

You blushed slightly.

Why he kinda..

"Let me get two shots and a strawberry margarita." Soo says with no hesitation.

"Have you been here before?" You say, slightly shocked.

"Of course I have, I'm kinda well known if you ask" she says as she winks at you.

You laugh and roll your eyes.

"Can I get a shot and I'll have a mango margarita please." You say shyly as you look back at the bartender.

He nods and gets to work instantly.

You look around the bar and notice the stage, you see the drum set and the microphone in front with speakers on both sides.

"Is someone performing?" You ask curiously.

"Oh!" Soo says as she swirls in the chair to face the stage.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you, my boyfriend is in the band that's performing tonight." She brags with a hair flip.

"Hm.." you say as you continue looking at the stage before shrugging.

"Here are your drinks ladies." The bartender says as he puts our shots and steps down our drinks.

"Thanks!" Soo says and downs her shot quickly.

Your eyes go wide and you follow, downing your shot. The liquor burning your stomach.

Yeah, it's gonna be a long night.

You start to hear cheers and claps from everyone in the lounge area and you get alarmed.

The lights dim and the stage lights up.

"It's starting!" Soo says and swirls around in her chair again, facing the stage with her drink in hand.

You turn in your chair too, taking your drink with you.

Wait..

Your kidding.

Is that..

The band comes on stage and other music starts, a familiar cat necklace catching your attention.

He grips the mic as the song starts.

"Are you ready!?" He shouts.

Everyone cheers.

Your jaw drops.

There's no way.

"Orange!???"

You practically choke on your drink, your eyes watering as you cough.

Soo looks over at you and pats your back.

"Oh my gosh!" "Are you okay!?" She yells and pats your back aggressively.

You regain composure and look at the stage again, you wanted to make sure you weren't dreaming.

You see him out his hands through his hair as he sings, the band giving their all and the performance goes on.

The lights flash and the crowd gets rowdy.

You wince at all the noise but couldn't keep your eyes off him.

What was he doing here?

Does he work here?

"Y/n?" Soo calls with concern.

You keep your eyes on him, the way he was rapping and singing, the band making music.

The lyrics..

"Y/n." Soo calls again, her hands on your shoulders.

What made you so drawn him? His music or his hair? Or maybe his sarcastic comments-

"Y/n!" Soo says as she pats your face.

"Huh?" You say as you look at her.

"Are you okay?" She says with a concerned look on her face.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." You mumble, you shake off your thoughts and continue watching the performance.

Keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

"Thank you for all coming!" He says.

He notices you and pauses as they finish up the set.

He stares at you for a moment before smirking.

You look away and turn back around in your chair.

"Let me get another shot." You say quickly to the bartender.

He nods and pours you another one.

You down it quickly.

"Soo, which one is your boyfriend?" You ask with hesitation.

"You see him in the back on the electric guitar?"

You nod.

"That's him."

You look and see a guy tuning his guitar, tattoos down his arm and eyebrow piercing.

"Woah." You chuckle.

"I know right." Soo says as she smirks.

"He asked me out after I came here the first time and we've been together since, and plus he has a motorcycle." She says as she nudges you playfully.

"Woah~" you say.

Soo laughs and flips her hair sassily.

You laugh and shake your head.

"I'm gonna go and talk to him, I'll be back!"

"Babbyyyy." She squeals as she runs to him.

"This girl.." you mumble and chuckle to yourself.

"Hey babe, you from around here?" You hear a smooth and familiar voice from behind you.

You pause, you heart racing.

Play it cool.

"Sorry, who are you?" You say as you turn in your chair, your eyebrow raised as you sip on your margarita, which was now ice.

"Playing dumb, vanilla?" He says and tilts his head.

He smirks, his hair slicked back and rings in his fingers, he seemed taller than you last saw him and his demeanor was different too.

Almost..calming?

"Me?" You say as you set your drink down.

"Come on, you didn't forget me that fast did you?"

"Possibly." You shrug.

"Care to introduce yourself?" You sass.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hand out.

"I'm Yoongi." He says with a slight grin.

"Y/n." You say as you shake his hand.

You stare at each other, taking in each other features.

He stares into your eyes before studying the rest of you, looking you up and down.

You blush and clear your throat as you pull your hand away.

"I'm going out for a smoke."

"I'll join you." He says as he shrugs.

You nod and look away and you start making your way towards the exit.

You get outside to fresh air, away from the loud music and smells.

You didn't like being around a bunch of people.

Yoongi puts his hands in his pockets as he watches you light a cigarette, exhaling away from him as you look around the area.

"So.. you work here?" You ask hesitantly.

"Well.. technically no.. my band just performs here." He states, looking a bit more shy.

"Every night?"

"Nah, just the weekends." He says as put his hands through his hair.

"So, what did you think?"

"About what?"

"The performance?"

"It was..."

Amazing

The lyrics...

The story..

Him.

"It was cool." You nod as you take another drag and exhale.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

"That's all?" "Just cool?"

"I worked hard on that song you know."

"What's the name of it?" You asked- hesitantly.

"Polar night." He says as he gets a tangerine from his pocket and starts to peel it.

You scoff. "What?" He says, glaring at you.

"Nothing." You mumble

"By the way, why are you here?" "No offense, but you don't seem like the type to be at these types of places." He says as he peels and eats some.

"Correct." You say as you take the last drag before putting you cigarette out.

"My friend dragged me here, her boyfriend is in your band." You explain.

"Ah, you mean Soo?"

"You know her?"

"Duh, she's here like almost every weekend." He scoffs.

You chuckle dryly.

"Well, I gotta go get ready for my next set." He sighs and finishes his tangerine slice.

"You coming?" " He says as he looks at you.

You think for a moment. You really wanted to see him perform again, but you also didn't want to deal with the loudness of the crowd either.

"Yeah." you say as you follow him back inside.

"See you after the show?"

You nod softly.

🫧🌟

The performance continued and the night was only getting better.

Which you were surprised with.

You watched as Soo went to give her boyfriend praises again, leaving you alone awkwardly.

You look around for yoongi, watching as he was talking to his band mates and packing everything up.

People were leaving and the bar was closing for the night, giving you some type of relief since it wasn't as crowded as before.

"Vanilla!" You hear him call out.

"It's y/n." You sighs.

"Sorry, force of habit." He says sarcastically.

You roll your eyes.

"Did you have fun?"

"Maybe." You shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles.

"It looks like your friend has left you again." He sighs.

"Let's go outside." He says as faces your shoulders toward the exit, though you don't complain.

"So.. are you gonna come back?"

"Maybe.."

"Oh cut the crap." He says.

"I'll think about it."

"Yeah well think hard." He retorts.

"And think about this while you're at it: Let me take you on a date."

"Fine." You say before even thinking twice.

"Wait-"

A/n : Hello! I just wanted to say that I was surprised that midnight fiction was requested highly lol thank you guys so much! and also the playlist is out!

"Cool. See you at 7 next Saturday." He says before walking off, not letting you say anything else.

You sigh and look round before walking home.

#bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts crack #bts smut #bts #midnight fiction #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #agust d #bts suga #suga #bts yoongi #kpop #kpop fanfic #polar night #d day

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wavypotatochips · 2 years ago

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heyy how are you ??? i had an idea for a neymar imagine, maybe yn is a famous singer and they met in like 2014 at the start of their fame and started hooking up and actually secretly fell in love but they had to break up and stuff bc of their busy schedules. then they meet again 8-9 years later when he goes to her concert with the rest of the psg squad and they tease him bc he's in love with her again but yn and him end up happily ever after and are like an it couple now !! its a long request ik , feel free to ignore it 💞💞

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 | 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐉𝐫

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Neymar Jr x Female Reader

Word Count : 5.6k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: My deepest apologies for the wait, ya girl was going THRUUU IT but its all good now c': and never apologize for long request!! The longer the request, more than likely the longer the response [ I also did not think I would end up writing this much LOL] c: And as always, Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!! LOVE ME SOME NEYNEY MMMMMM

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Requests are currently closed as I am catching up. mwah mwah love ya! ♥

“Like a summer evening under the sun

Oh, darling

And maybe, just maybe

We could fill our memories one by one

Mangoes are candy with you

My donuts and pies need no glazing with you”

You stand in front of your grandmother's restaurant, clutching the microphone in your hand. You've always dreamed of becoming a famous singer, but you know that you have to start small. Luckily, your grandmother has given you the opportunity to sing every Friday night in front of her restaurant. Your passion lies in singing romantic ballads, inspired by the love your Grandmother and Grandfather share. Their bond is pure and timeless, and witnessing it fills you with hope for your own future love story. You close your eyes and begin to sing, pouring your heart and soul into the melody. The audience is small, but their applause is thunderous, and you know that this is just the beginning of your journey to stardom. As you finished singing your final song and thanked the small crowd for their cheers, little did you know that this would be the night that would change everything.

Neymar, a rising soccer star, happened upon your performance while on his way home. The sweet melodies that echoed from your soul drew him in, and he found himself unable to tear himself away. The crowd around you grew insignificant, as his eyes fixated on you and your beautiful features. Your voice enraptured him, leaving him lost in thought as he listened to your songs until the end. Even though he wished it would have never ended. As he made his way home, the memory of your performance stayed with him. Neymar was overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotions, his heart skipping a beat in a way he had never experienced before. He tried to shake off the feeling, knowing that his focus should be on futbol. However, the thoughts of you and your beautiful voice lingered, and he found himself daydreaming about the way your eyes lit up seeing the crowd cheer for you, and your beautiful smile across your face. He knew he shouldn't be thinking like this, but the sparks that flew that night were undeniable and he couldn't resist the pull towards you, even though he has yet to speak with you. His heart raced as he returned to the same spot the next Friday, eagerly hoping to catch another glimpse of you and your voice, and he wasn't disappointed. As soon as he saw you, his heart skipped a beat. He felt nervous and excited all at the same time.

As you begin to sing, the music swirls around Neymar, embracing him in its beauty. Your voice resonates deep within his soul, igniting a fire that only grows stronger with each note. He finds himself entranced by your presence once again, losing himself in the magic you create. The way your lipgloss glistens on your lips while you hold the microphone makes Neymar wish he could feel them against his own, and oh, don't get him started on your beautiful face.

The passion in your performance is undeniable, and Neymar's heart beats faster with each passing moment. The melodies you weave seem to speak directly to him, resonating with dreams and desires he has never dared to acknowledge. He can't help but imagine a life where your voices intertwine in harmony both on and off the stage.

As the final notes of the song linger in the air, you look directly into the crowd. Your eyes land on a pair of hazel eyes, and when you recognize the face they are paired with, you almost don't hold your last note. The moment your eyes meet his, Neymar's heart skips a beat. You quickly look away, finishing your note with a small blush appearing on your face as the crowd erupts in applause. His eyes never leave you as he claps, his admiration and awe shining brightly. He wants to approach you, to tell you how your voice has touched him deeply, but he can't find the words. Instead, he lingers in the crowd, hoping for an opportunity to connect with you.

After the performance, you walk over and grab your small tip jar. Neymar musters the courage to approach you. He catches your eye, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Nervously, he greets you, "Your voice is really beautiful," he says, going straight to the point. As he is now closer to you than before, you can really see his handsome features. You can't tell if it's due to the full moon tonight or what, but he looks as if he's glowing—truly mesmerizing. Hearing him let out a small laugh makes you realize you've been staring at him for a bit without giving a response. You shake your head briefly, letting out a small laugh, "T-Thank you so much," you stutter slightly, not used to someone as attractive as him trying to talk to you. Neymar finds it adorable, causing his smile to widen. He says, "Of course, pretty," biting his bottom lip as if contemplating on saying something. "Hey, are you about to go do something?" You shake your head no. "Would you like to join me for some ice cream?" He points down the street. "There's a street vendor down the street, and his homemade ice cream is amazing!"

As Neymar stands there, awaiting your response, a whirlwind of thoughts collides in your mind. Is this really happening? Are you being asked out right now? It feels like a scene lifted straight from a romantic movie or the pages of a captivating novel. The rush of emotions surges within you, and you pinch yourself inwardly to ensure you're not dreaming. You steady your voice and respond with a composed smile, "Sure, I wouldn't mind. Just give me one moment; I have to let my Grandmother know so she doesn't freak out." He smiles, nodding his head. "Of course, take your time."

You find it hard to believe that you, an ordinary person with dreams and aspirations, are about to embark on an unexpected adventure with someone as incredibly handsome as him. It's a surreal moment that surpasses anything you've ever imagined

You quickly make your way over to your grandmother, who has been observing the interaction from afar. Her eyes twinkle with a knowing look as you share your plans with her. "Grandma, I'm going to get ice cream with a friend. Don't worry, I'll be back soon," you assure her, though your own excitement and uncertainty are evident. She raises an eyebrow cheekily and questions, "A friend, huh?" You feel a blush creep onto your face once again as you hand her your tip jar. "Bye Grandma, I love you," you say with affection. She smiles warmly and replies, "I love you too, baby. Don't be back too late! I may need help preparing Caldo Verde for tomorrow." You nod in agreement as you share a heartfelt hug, feeling her soft kiss on your cheek.

As you make your way back to Neymar, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. He waits patiently, his gaze fixed on you, and it both thrills and unnerves you. You take a moment to compose yourself, straightening your posture and gathering the courage to face this newfound connection head-on.

"Ready?" Neymar questions with a playful glimmer in his eyes, his smile mirroring your own anticipation. You nod your head, unable to contain the excitement bubbling within you. "Yes, I'm ready," you reply, feeling a surge of butterflies flutter in your stomach. As the two of you begin walking towards the ice cream vendor, a comfortable silence settles between you. The air is filled with a mix of warm summer breeze and the sweet scent of blossoming flowers, creating a picturesque setting for this enchanting encounter. Neymar breaks the silence with a mischievous smirk, "You know, I have a feeling this ice cream is no match for the sweetness of your smile." His playful tone tugs at your heartstrings, and you play along, batting your eyelashes. "Oh, is that so? Well, I guess I'll have to make sure to smile extra sweetly then," you reply, feigning innocence, as a light-hearted teasing dance begins. As you continue walking side by side, the banter between you becomes effortless. Neymar teases you about your favorite ice cream flavors, suggesting that your taste buds might be missing out on the full experience. You counter his playful jabs with witty comebacks, keeping the atmosphere light and carefree. In between the laughter and teasing, you share snippets of your dreams and aspirations, exploring the depths of your personalities with genuine curiosity. Neymar listens intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement and admiration. He peppers the conversation with compliments that make your cheeks flush, but you appreciate the way his words make you feel seen and valued. The ice cream vendor finally comes into view, and Neymar playfully nudges your arm. "Alright, it's decision time. Choose wisely, because I have a feeling my taste buds won't settle for anything less than extraordinary." You playfully roll your eyes, pretending to contemplate your options. "Well, I'll have to find something that matches your extraordinary standards then," you quip back, sharing a mischievous smile. Together, you approach the cart, ready to indulge in the delightful treats it has to offer. As you savor the flavors and continue to exchange playful banter, you can't help but feel a deepening connection forming, one that is built on shared laughter, light-hearted teasing, and the promise of a captivating journey ahead.

Over the next few weeks, the bond between you and Neymar deepened with each passing day. What started as a chance encounter at your grandmother's restaurant blossomed into a whirlwind romance that neither of you could have anticipated. Laughter, shared interests, and stolen glances became the foundation of your connection.

As the days turned into months and the months turned into years, your relationship with Neymar grew stronger. You supported each other's dreams wholeheartedly, and as fate would have it, both of you began to ascend the ladder of fame in your respective careers. Neymar became a household name as a professional heartthrob soccer player, captivating audiences with his skill and charm on the field. Meanwhile, your voice enchanted millions around the world, elevating you to the status of a renowned singer, captivating hearts with your soul-stirring performances. Life seemed perfect. Together, you conquered milestones, basked in the adoration of fans, and reveled in the love that intertwined your lives. But as the demands of fame and the pressures of your individual careers increased, the delicate balance between love and ambition became increasingly challenging to maintain. With Neymar's soccer schedule becoming more demanding, you found yourselves constantly rescheduling dinner dates, postponing moments meant for just the two of you. The promises made in the early days of your relationship were slowly overshadowed by the unrelenting obligations of his profession. Though he tried his best to juggle both his career and your relationship, the constant conflicts began to take a toll on your connection. The realization hit you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore—you and Neymar were slowly drifting apart. The time you once cherished together became fleeting, filled with missed opportunities and unfulfilled promises. It wasn't that the love between you had faded; it was simply suffocated by the relentless demands of fame. After much soul-searching and tearful conversations, you both came to a heartbreaking decision. It was time to let go, to release each other from the expectations and sacrifices that had weighed you down. The breakup was bittersweet, a mixture of pain and gratitude for the beautiful memories you had created together. In the aftermath, you focused on healing and rediscovering yourself as an individual. It wasn't easy, as reminders of Neymar and your past love were scattered throughout your daily life. But as time passed, wounds slowly healed, and you found solace in your music, pouring your emotions into your performances. Years went by, and both you and Neymar continued to rise in your respective careers, reaching new heights of success. The memories of your time together became a part of the tapestry of your lives, lessons learned and cherished moments that shaped you. Sometimes, the universe has its own plans, and the timing just isn't right. Despite the heartache of your breakup, you both emerged stronger and more resilient. And who knows, perhaps one day, when the stars align and destiny weaves its magic, your paths may cross again, reigniting the flames of a love that once burned so brightly.

8 years post breakup -

Yesterday, In the PSG team locker room, the players gathered around as the coach announced the upcoming charity event.

"Listen up, boys," the coach began, his voice commanding attention. "We're hosting a charity event tomorrow, and it's mandatory for all of you to be there. It's going to be a fantastic evening with a live concert, though I'm not sure who the performer is yet. So make sure you're ready to represent PSG and make a difference."

Today, the charity event was in full swing. The venue sparkled with elegance, adorned with dazzling lights and an air of anticipation. Neymar, Messi, and Mbappé, dressed in their dapper suits, found themselves caught up in the excitement as they engaged in a brief interview, capturing the attention of reporters and fans alike.

The interviewer, with a microphone in hand, directed a question towards Neymar. "Neymar, the event tonight is for a noble cause. How do you feel about being a part of it?"

Neymar's eyes lit up with a genuine smile as he replied, "It's an incredible feeling to be involved in such a meaningful event. Giving back to the community is something we all believe in, and to have the opportunity to make a positive impact is truly special."

The interviewer nodded in agreement, then continued, "And there's a lot of speculation about who the surprise live performer is. Any guesses or wishes?"

Neymar chuckled, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, but I'm personally hoping for a remarkable singer with a voice that can touch your soul."

Messi and Mbappé joined in the lighthearted banter, playfully speculating on the potential performer, their camaraderie evident in their laughter and easygoing exchange.

As the interview came to a close, Neymar glanced around the buzzing venue, feeling a sense of nostalgia.

Because he didn't want to bring up the subject of you, Neymar has solely avoided concert settings since the breakup, besides from clubs of course. You and him had made the difficult decision to part ways after the breakup, believing that distance and limited contact would help heal the wounds and move on with your lives. The initial separation was challenging for both of you, as the absence of each other's presence left a void that seemed impossible to fill. Neymar, in particular, found it hard to adjust to the new reality of not having you by his side. The nights felt lonelier without your comforting presence, and the routine of sharing his life with you became a bittersweet memory. Six years spent together had forged a deep connection, and it was no easy task to sever those ties completely.

He couldn't help but wonder if fate had a role to play in this event, if there was a chance encounter awaiting him amidst the excitement and the live performance.

Little did Neymar know, the past and present were about to converge in a way he could never have anticipated, igniting a spark of hope and possibility that had long been dormant in his heart.

~Meanwhile, backstage.~

"The stage is set, and the mic is ready," your manager's voice resonates with a mix of excitement and apprehension. As she carefully adjusts your earpiece, you take a deep breath, feeling the surge of anticipation building up inside you. The designer crew hovers around you, their skilled hands putting the final touches on your breathtaking white dress. The delicate lace patterns cascade down its flowing silhouette, accentuating your elegance and radiating an ethereal beauty that perfectly complements your stage presence.

Though the specific details of the event remain unknown to you, you're aware that it's for a charitable cause, reaching a vast audience through the live stream. The whirlwind of your busy tour schedule has left little time for you to delve into the specifics, but the opportunity to contribute to a worthy cause fills you with a profound sense of purpose and joy. As your manager steps away, you catch a glimpse of her biting her bottom lip—a subtle sign of nerves. At first, you assume it's merely her concern for your well-being after the grueling tour, wanting to ensure you don't overexert yourself. Unbeknownst to you, however, she carries a deeper worry in her mind. She's aware of your past with Neymar, knowing that the unexpected encounter with him at this event could awaken dormant emotions and memories. The stage manager signals that it's time to make your entrance. Taking one last glance in the mirror and adding a final touch to your hair, you stride toward the stage. As the curtains part, revealing the dazzling setup, you step forward, your presence commanding the attention of the audience. The spotlight finds you, casting its warm glow upon you, as you raise the microphone to your lips.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" Your voice resonates through the air, instantly capturing the attention of the crowd. Gasps of surprise and the sound of hands clapping reverberate throughout the venue, a testament to the unexpected delight of your presence. A warm smile graces your face as you soak in the genuine excitement that fills the room. Taking a moment to appreciate the sea of faces before you, you turn your gaze towards the camera, ensuring that your message reaches not only those in the venue but also the countless viewers joining from afar.

"Tonight, we come together for a cause that holds a special place in my heart." Your voice carries a depth of sincerity, inviting the audience to truly grasp the significance of the moment. You pause for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.

"I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to ChildLifeMatters for the incredible work they do in raising awareness and supporting children in need. Together, we have the power to make a difference, to bring hope and joy into the lives of those who need it most. Tonight, through the universal language of music, we unite in spreading love, compassion, and raising awareness for a brighter future."

The applause swells, filling the room with a wave of appreciation and support. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment, but also the strength of the cause that fuels your passion.

Little do you know, the universe has orchestrated a twist of fate for this event, preparing an unexpected reunion with Neymar that lies just around the corner.

"Neymar, hurry up! I am not going to get yelled at by the coach because of you," Marquinhos exclaims, playfully nudging Neymar as he catches him taking yet another selfie. The team is eager to head to the main venue area for the charity event.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Neymar mutters, reluctantly sliding his phone into his back pocket. As he approaches the stage, a flicker of recognition crosses his face, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. He quickly dismisses the thought, attributing it to his mind playing tricks on him.

Entering the bustling venue, Neymar exchanges greetings with his teammates, their eyes twinkling mischievously as they observe his slightly puzzled expression. Kylian, in particular, nudges his head towards the stage, hinting at something intriguing. Curiosity piqued, Neymar turns around, and in that moment, his heart feels as if it bursts out of his chest.

There you are, standing confidently on the stage, a vision of grace and talent. Mesmerized, Neymar's gaze locks onto you, and a flood of memories rushes back, transporting him to a time when you were once intertwined in each other's lives. The familiar warmth and tenderness resurface, evoking emotions he thought he had long buried.

"Whoa, Neymar, is that your lost love?" one teammate playfully teases, unable to resist the opportunity for some light-hearted banter.

A slight blush colors Neymar's cheeks, but he manages a playful smirk, attempting to brush off the teasing. "Lost love? Nah, just an old friend," he responds, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity.

However, his teammates aren't fooled by his nonchalant demeanor. They exchange knowing glances, their playful expressions betraying their understanding of the emotions swirling within Neymar's heart.

As the banter continues among his teammates, Neymar's attention remains fixated on you, the focal point of the stage. He can't help but be captivated by your presence, the way you command the attention of the audience with every note and movement. It's as if time has stood still, and all that matters in this moment is the magnetic pull between the two of you.

Memories flood Neymar's mind, snapshots of laughter, shared dreams, and stolen glances. He recalls the way your voice used to fill his world with joy, how it resonated deep within his soul. The bond they once shared was unbreakable, and even after all these years, the connection still lingers, refusing to fade away.

Lost in the rush of emotions, Neymar finds himself longing for the chance to rewind time, to rekindle the fire that once burned between you two.

As you found yourself on stage, surrounded by the dreamy backdrop that perfectly complemented the ethereal atmosphere, your heart raced with anticipation. The familiar melodies of the song flowed through your veins, but as your mouth opened to sing the first note, your voice momentarily faltered. Your eyes locked with Neymar, a magnetic connection that transcended the sea of faces in the crowd. It felt as if time stood still, and in that moment, memories flooded back, crashing over you like a wave. Images of laughter, shared moments, and the love you once held together washed over your mind. The depth of emotion in Neymar's gaze mirrored your own, and you couldn't help but offer him a small, knowing smile—a silent acknowledgment of the bond you once shared. You start singing,

“ I never thought you'd be the one

To hold my heart

I never knew I'd think of you

Each time that we're apart

Each Day

I'll be the one missing your face

And all that you are

Save me

I promise I'd stay here by your side

And I know from the start

When I look into your eyes

I know that I'm mesmerized

Baby

Just hold me

When you're here I realized

I'll be the one to testify

Baby

Say that you're mine tonight.”

With every word that poured out of your soul, you poured your heart out to the world, including Neymar. The lyrics resonated with the depths of your emotions, speaking to the love that still lingered within. You were unafraid to let your eyes linger on Neymar, disregarding the curious glances from the crowd who assumed your gaze was lost among the many faces. Neymar, however, knew. He felt the intensity of your gaze, and his heart raced in response.

But soon, you broke the enchanted connection, letting your eyes wander across the sea of faces before you. The crowd erupted in applause, their appreciation evident. You couldn't help but steal glances at the cameras, ensuring that your performance reached those watching through the live stream, while still cherishing the shared moments with the live audience.

In that moment, the stage became a place where the past intertwined with the present, where your music became a conduit for unspoken emotions, and where destiny gently guided your paths to intersect once again.

As the melody of your voice fills the air, Neymar's heart beats in sync, each note igniting a flicker of hope within him. He wonders if you still remember the love you two shared, if the memories that haunt him also linger within you. The desire to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, grows stronger with every passing second.

But for now, Neymar remains rooted in his seat, a swirl of emotions beneath his composed exterior. He continues to watch, mesmerized by your performance, caught in a bittersweet symphony of longing and admiration. The teasing remarks from his teammates fade into the background, as all that matters is the connection he shares with you, a connection that time and distance could never truly erase.

As you continued to serenade the crowd with several more enchanting songs, the energy in the venue soared. The atmosphere crackled with excitement as your voice resonated through the air, captivating hearts and inspiring generous donations for the charitable cause. You effortlessly engaged with the audience, sharing smiles, laughter, and heartfelt moments that deepened the connection between you and your fans.

After the fifth song, you took a moment to address the crowd once again, expressing your gratitude for their support and encouraging them to embrace the upcoming performance by the next artist. The spotlight gracefully shifted, illuminating the stage for the next singer, and you stepped aside, basking in the sense of accomplishment that washed over you.

As you made your way backstage, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts consumed your mind. Neymar's presence had awakened a dormant flame within you, stirring a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and a hint of longing. Memories of your time together intertwined with the energy of the performance, leaving you with a bittersweet yearning for what once was.

Meanwhile, as soon as you exited the stage, Neymar's teammates seized the opportunity to playfully tease him. Their mischievous grins and banter revolved around your beauty and their supposed attempts to secure your phone number. Their intentions were light-hearted, aimed at evoking a hint of jealousy in Neymar, but his response was measured and composed.

Neymar, briefly acknowledging their teasing, gracefully brushed it off with a confident smile and a witty remark. Deep down, however, his heart raced, urging him to find you once more. He swiftly excused himself from the camaraderie of his teammates, determined to catch up with you and unravel the feelings that had reawakened in his soul.

As Neymar dashed through the backstage corridors, his mind focused on the mission at hand—to find you, to bridge the gap of time and space, and to confront the emotions that swirled within both your hearts. Destiny beckoned, weaving its intricate tapestry, and the next chapter of your intertwined journey was about to unfold.

As Neymar hurried through the backstage area, his heart pounded in his chest, fueled by a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and hope. He navigated the bustling corridors, occasionally catching glimpses of familiar faces and hearing snippets of conversations that heightened his eagerness to find you.

Finally, he spotted you standing in a quieter corner, your back turned to him as you engaged in a conversation with one of the event organizers. Neymar's steps faltered for a moment, his gaze fixated on your figure, taking in the way you held yourself with poise and grace. The years apart had done nothing to diminish your magnetic presence.

Summoning his courage, Neymar approached you, his voice laced with a mix of hesitance and sincerity. "Excuse me," he interjected, capturing your attention as the event organizer excused themselves. As you turned to face him, your eyes widened in surprise, a myriad of emotions dancing in their depths.

There was a brief pause, as both of you stood there, speechless, caught in the gravity of the moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that intimate space. Neymar's eyes searched yours, finding a familiar connection that reignited the sparks of the past.

"I... I don't even know where to begin," Neymar admitted, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Seeing you up there on stage, it brought back so many memories, so many feelings. It's like time stood still for a moment." You were at a loss for words, so you remained silent. Of course, you shared that sentiment, but for some reason, you refrained from saying anything.

As the weight of the shared history hung in the air, Neymar took a deep breath, his voice filled with a mixture of sincerity and longing. "I've thought about this moment countless times, wondering if we would ever have a chance to reconnect. Seeing you here tonight, it's like a dream come true."

Your eyes met his, shimmering with a hint of apprehension and yearning. "Neymar, I never imagined I would see you again like this. It's been so long, and yet... the emotions, the memories, they're still so vivid……"

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Neymar's lips as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "Time may have passed, but my feelings for you never faded. I've carried a piece of you with me all these years."

Your breath caught in your throat, feeling the weight of his words echoing in your heart. The realization of the enduring connection between you filled the space between you, drawing you closer, as if the universe had conspired to reunite your souls.

"I've missed you," you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice matching Neymar's.

His eyes softened, conveying a profound tenderness. "I've missed you too, more than words can express. Life took us on different paths, but my heart never stopped yearning for the love we shared."

As the world continued to buzz around you, the shared moment felt timeless, cocooned in its own universe. It was as if the echoes of the past intertwined with the possibilities of the future, offering a second chance for love to unfold.

"I want to make things right this time," Neymar said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's start anew, together. Of course, we will start off slow. But Baby, I will be such a fool to lose you again.”

A surge of hope washed over you, igniting a spark within. With a smile that reflected both forgiveness and a willingness to embrace the unknown, you replied, "Yes… I think…. I would like that very much."

In that moment, as the world continued to swirl around you both, Neymar and you embarked on a journey of reconciliation and rediscovery. With hearts open to love's infinite possibilities, you stepped forward, ready to rewrite your story, guided by the enduring bond that fate had rekindled.

"Are you doing anything after this?" Neymar's voice carries a playful lilt, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. Your head shakes in response, a smile spreading across your face, mirroring his infectious joy.

"Great. Well, there's this ice cream vendor I know just up the street we could go to," he suggests, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes reflecting the memories of your early encounters. Laughter dances in the air as you playfully hit his chest, a gentle reminder of the playful banter that once defined your connection.

Neymar chuckles, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "What? I'm serious!" His smile widens, his eyes shining with warmth and sincerity. The familiarity of his words resonates deeply, reminding you of the carefree moments you shared when your love story was just beginning to unfold.

A gentle teasing remark escapes your lips. "You are such a dork," you playfully chide, finding solace in the comfort of his arms. As you wrap your arms around his chest, leaning your head against his heartbeat, a sense of serenity envelops you.

With graceful tenderness, Neymar tightens his embrace, a silent promise not to let go. In that moment, as the world continues to spin around you, you revel in the joy of rediscovered love, knowing that this time, you and Neymar will create new memories, hand in hand, embracing the dorkiness, laughter, and love that define your extraordinary journey together.

You and Neymar continue to chat, relishing in the familiar comfort and the excitement of a renewed connection. Time slips away effortlessly as you share stories, laughter, and dreams for the future. However, as the event draws to a close, the demands of the evening pull you both in different directions. With a promise to reconnect, you exchange heartfelt goodbyes, knowing that this time, it won't be long before your paths intertwine once again. As you part ways, a sense of anticipation lingers, each step carrying the promise of a future filled with love, happiness, and shared adventures.

True to your word, you begin to rebuild the bridge between you. Messages and calls become more frequent, filled with laughter, shared memories, and a genuine curiosity about each other's lives. Slowly but surely, the distance that once separated you begins to shrink, making way for a blossoming bond that refuses to be ignored.

In the months that follow, your connection deepens and evolves. Dates are filled with laughter, stolen glances, and the sweet nostalgia of rediscovered love. Each moment spent together feels like a beautiful reunion, as if fate has brought you back together to create a love story even more extraordinary than before.

As news of your rekindled romance spreads, Brasil can't help but celebrate the return of their beloved "it" couple. And with every passing day, your bond grows stronger, fortified by the lessons learned from your past and a shared commitment to prioritize each other. Together, you build a foundation of trust, support, and unwavering dedication, creating a love that withstands the tests of time and captures the hearts of millions.

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