#but I couldn’t starting crying because I had to be on my best behaviour or else I get told I’m being a dick

[no-144444]

playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

part one | part two | part three | part four |

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It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car. 

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed. 

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-” 

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded. 

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away. 

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of  ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again. 

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. 

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1. 

And you’d just fucked it up. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom. 

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“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you. 

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted. 

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was. 

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11. 

Shit. 

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“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!” 

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back. 

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit. 

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P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there. 

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.” 

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head. 

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie. 

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his. 

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

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“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks. 

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space. 

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control. 

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer. 

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?” 

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room. 

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion. 

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.” 

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. 

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone. 

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of  Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?” 

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed. 

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again. 

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P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit. 

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You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you.  You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone. 

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar. 

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc. 

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you. 

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin. 

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When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[an-internet-introvert]

My god, is 4pm to early to go to bed because god it has been a long weekend

[unhingedpolycule]

Hello, sorry if my English is not very good or understandable, I stopped practicing it a long time ago, but I hope I can give you my congratulations for that beautiful fanfic you made. I loved it, the way you treated it was spectacular. TID by Nikto, very attached to reality. I say from experience, a good development that Kreuger had, one of the best I have read, an ending that they both deserved made me cry, I felt a lot of emotion when reading each chapter, I was trapped in the story, how wonderful and personally I started reading it leaving from the hospital and he helped me a lot in my days of recovery, congratulations for your great work, I am your fan from Mexico, a cordial hug 🤗.

And just two questions: What do Nikto's alters look like? Do you think you can draw a drawing of each one?

And what would happen if König discovered Krueger?

Strap in, this is gonna be a long one! (As always as when I get to talk about my ideas of IRIWYW!!!) (I know we exchanged some DMs, so I hope you don’t mind me somewhat recycling my answers from there :)

First of all: your english is awesome, don’t fret :) thank you so much for your kind work, IRIWYW really was its own beast and a lot of work and I am so happy that it landed so well and managed to lure so many people into the exciting ship that is NK! I hope your recovery is going well, even if my wishes are a little late because I wanted to make nice drawings for this and put a lot of details into them! I won’t list all my hc for these characters separately, I hope the ideas I scribbled down are easily readable! :) (also featuring Andréy using the one internet meme he picked up on to confuse Krueger, who has no idea what he keeps talking about until he googles it eventually, even if he is the more “online” of the two!)

I think it would be really hard on König . He looked out for “Herzog”, tried to take care of him when he saw him being in what he rightfully assumed to be a toxic relationship and genuinely felt for him. Knowing that he treated his abuser like this would really make him doubt his judgement and what he said to “Herzog”. He would ask himself if this means that some people do not deserve forgiveness and that he shouldn’t assume that they do. In my mind, he wouldn’t voice it for a long time until Ghost basically forces him to do so because he knows that something is up. He is almost ashamed of his perceived failure. And Ghost sits him down and tells him that his compassion is a good trait, not a negative one. That he will always love him for his softness. Yeah, this time someone got it who didn’t deserve it. But wouldn’t it be worse if someone deserved and needed it wouldn’t get it because König couldn’t be arsed? I think he would make peace with being kind to Krueger eventually by telling himself that it sais much more about himself than about Krueger. But it would be hard.

And for how Krueger might react… he wouldn’t directly be ashamed, but he wouldn’t like it either. In his mind, he’s very much a different person now and barely recognises his old behaviours (König wise). If he was to meet König again and König would recognise him, he would be mortified but also apologise in a very genuine way. But he wouldn’t accept punishment from the legal side. He is too used to running and to be exempt from any rules. He would semi accept another beating (not fighting back as harshly as he could). He knows he deserves this, because it’s personal.

Bonus: how would the alters react to König threatening Krueger?

Nikto hates König and I am torn how he would react. For Gregor: he would protect Krueger if Krueger doesn’t do it himself, going as far as to try killing König because he is a mix of furious and jealous. Andréy would be torn between protecting him just as furiously as Gregor does because that’s his lover and letting it happen as long as Krueger doesn’t get hurt too bad because he has been raped himself and would give everything to do this to his tormentors because it fucked him up. (He has no memories of it, but he knows what it did to Gregor and he also knows the full extent of what Krueger did to König.) Lydia would very much let it happen for a bit before pulling them apart and tell König to back off, that he had his revenge and that he is done now. She is pragmatic, but she knows that the system needs Krueger and she really comes to enjoy his company too much to see him killed. And Sonja… damn she would bawl her eyes out and try to seperate them, which König would brush off with ease. It would be so horrifying to hear “Nikto” cry and plead like a child though, hearing him say how much she adores Krueger and that he is a good man, asking why he beats him. Sonja doesn’t know everything and doesn’t understand the implications of what she does know, despite the diary. König would probably stop out of sheer mortification of what sounds like a child in the body of a grown man clinging to him and pleading under tears.

Thank you for this ask, it was so fun to answer! Cordial hug back!!!

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.21

Summary: You get a hit with a bit of reality and go back to apologise to Wednesday. But it might be too late, and now everything is catching back up with you. And this time, you don't have Nicky to keep you out of trouble.

Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: swearing, stages of grief, implications of self-destructive behaviours, flashbacks Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

You felt the sticks snap under your feet as you landed haphazardly, quickly leaning against a tree so you could dry heave. Again. It was becoming something of a routine from the past five or so hours. After stopping at the house to get your things and say goodbye to Mabel and Jenkins - who promptly gave you hugs and cheek kisses. It made your stomach turn and you wanted to scream at them to please stop, it’s all my fault - before flying off.

In the grand scheme of things, you were only able to fly for about 20 minutes at a time before having to land. At first you panicked when your stomach turned, and it hurt because you hadn’t eaten and you were already exhausted. But then after another 20 minutes or so of shaky flying, you had to land and heave again. And so the vicious cycle continued.

Your skin was sticky with sweat by the time you walked through the gate at home. There was a shakiness to your legs that, for the life of you, you couldn’t get rid of. It was humiliating and you felt weak. Weak because you had just ruined everything and now you were running away? Running back home to Momma and Pop? What, were you going to tuck your tail between your legs next?

“Y/N!”

The push against your stomach was stronger than it should have been. You stumbled back, your arms windmilling in an attempt to keep you on your feet. Your duffel bag hit the dirt with a *thud* and you managed to get your feet back underneath you just enough to see your faux attacker.

And it broke your heart.

“You promised,” Hailey shouted. Not her usual yelling or griping. She shouted. With tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“Hail-”

“-you promised he would wake up!” She continued, stepping closer. Her claws were out.

“I didn’t-”

“-and you didn’t even tell us!” She pushed against your stomach again; your feet were better planted this time. “We had to find out from Auntie Rissa!”

“Hailey!” Alex was running across the yard, the other kids fast on his tail. “Stop!”

“You promised,” Hailey cried. She swiped with her claws once. You jumped back but still felt the slightest sting on your left hip. “You promised and you let him die!”

Oh. Oh.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Alex huffed as he did his best to get in between you and Hailey. His sunglasses were riding low on his nose, but he quickly pushed them back up. “You know better.”

“Your best friend came home,” Hailey shouted at Alex. They were starting to square off. Oh no. “Mine didn’t.” She was crying. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey-”

“-Why should she get to come home when Nicky can’t?-”

“-You know it’s not that simple-”

“-Why does she get to be happy when he can’t even breathe?-”

“-Don’t be such a bitch-”

“-Enough!”

You stepped in between the both of them, your arms outstretched on either side to push them further apart. It was impeccable timing, really. You managed to step in between them right as Hailey swiped again and Alex threw a punch. The claws swiped across your forearm, and Alex tried to curb his hit but still managed to catch you in the shoulder.

You felt sick.

Everyone else had finally gotten closer, now just watching the scene unfold before them. You looked up into Pop’s eyes, trying your best to convey everything you were feeling. Scared, sick, angry, frustrated, numb. Everything and nothing all at once. You wanted to cry, and throw up, and scream, and hurt.

“It’s your fault,” Hailey said around a sob that she no longer bothered hiding. “It should have been you-”

“-Hailey,” Momma chastised immediately, but Hailey was already running off into the woods around the barn. A pained howl quickly followed.

“Come on, Nicky,” Hailey begged, “you promised to sing karaoke with me.”

“It’s 3am, Hails,” Nicky chuckled. Your eyes slowly opened to see them snuggling on the couch in the basement.

You couldn’t say much; you were cuddling with Alex on the other couch.

“Then at least sneak some ice cream with me?” Hailey asked again. She was using her puppy dog pout. Smart move, it always worked on Nicky.

“Fine,” he sighed, but he was still smiling. “But only because we’re best friends.”

“You love me most,” she said as she pulled him up from the couch.

“I suppose I do,” he laughed again.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Alex said, his own voice sounding watery. “It was an accident.”

You felt sick.

“I’ll go get Hailey-”

“-Let her run it off,” Pop interrupted Momma softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alex, grab her bag.” He looked around at everyone else, including the nearly-crying kids. “Everyone else git back inside.”

A chorus of “yes Pops” filled the suffocatingly silent air. Your arms slowly fell back to your side as everyone moved, leaving the area as quickly as possible. No one wanted to stay; you didn’t blame them. You didn’t want to stay either. You didn’t want to be anywhere.

“You gonna hurl?” Pop asked as he stepped closer to you, his hand patting your shoulder a little rougher than necessary. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“‘m fine,” you said.

“Don’t hurl on my boots,” Pop warned.

As if on cue, you turned just in time to double over. Nothing came up; there was nothing to come up. But it still took you a few minutes of dry heaving and Pop patting your back harshly before you could stand back up on shaky legs. You just used the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your chin.

“Come inside,” Pop said softly. You don’t deserve soft. “You need food and some sleep.”

“‘m not hungry-”

“-I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not,” Pop interrupted. “You’re walkin’ like a newborn foal.”

“I can’t- I- I can’t eat,” you whispered. You couldn’t look into his eyes; couldn’t bear to see the pity. “I can’t.”

The stammer was embarrassing enough on its own, but the way Pop’s grip on your shoulder softened made your stomach turn and a lump form in your throat. Don’t touch me. But he did, and he was so incredibly soft, and you wanted to scream.

“Come on, baby bird,” he said softly as he pulled you into his side and started guiding you to the house. “Let’s get you home.”

You ate what Abuelita put in front of you. If anyone had asked what it was, you couldn’t have told them, but you ate it. Ate until you felt your stomach turn, then excused yourself and went straight to the bathroom. The food didn’t stay in your stomach, but at least you ate.

Momma let you sleep in her room for the night; no one would bother you in there. And you laid there on the bed and the pillows smelled like home and you didn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Nicky. Or your father’s bloody face, eyes staring up at you in absolute fear.

You wanted him to fear you. But you didn’t. All you wanted was for him to hold you and say he was sorry and that he loved you. You wanted both of them to say they loved you and they were proud of you. Not that they were scared of you, or they hated you, or they blamed you for everything.

You just wanted them to want you.

Turn it off, that voice in your head said again. It sounded a little different, but still familiar. You didn’t want to turn everything off, you wanted to feel. But the words themselves buried the anger and sadness under layer after layer of numbness. Buried it until you felt nothing, and nothing went through your head except unbearable silence.

You couldn’t help it.

It was early in the morning by the time you stumbled out of Momma’s and Pop’s room. Everyone was still asleep, thankfully, and you didn’t want to be there when they woke up. You had heard Hailey come home last night and you just couldn’t be there when she got up.

It should have been you.

You left the house without any warning. The fall air was cool and the trees were a beautiful orange and yellow and red and it made you sick. Fall was Nicky’s favourite time of year, and it was so perfect out, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. A stinging sensation settled in the back of your eyes and a lump lodged itself in your throat as you started running.

It left you shaky and the cold air stung your lungs, but you still ran. Down the dirt road, into the woods and up the small hill that led to the creek. The babbling brook would normally be soothing, easing you into a calm that could only come from the outside. But today, all it did was make you angry. Angry because your feet had carried you here when you didn’t want to be here.

You couldn’t bear to be in Nicky’s favourite place.

A scream wanted to tear its way up your throat, but you wouldn’t let it. You didn’t, because if you kept it in then you could suffer a little bit too. It would continue to rage and tear you apart from the inside out. If you were lucky, maybe it would do more than that and you could prove how sorry you were.

Your eyes stung when you finally collapsed near the riverbank. The ground was cold and muddy but truthfully? You couldn’t give a damn. You were still in those fucking suit pants and dressy undershirt, and you didn’t give a damn that they were soaking through with freezing water.

The frogs and birds kept you company. Croaking by your leg while the brook continued to flow steadily in front of you. Your wings weighed heavy on your back, forcing you to hunch your shoulders in an attempt to ease the weight. It didn’t. The muscles in your back ached and it was good. Pain was good.

“It’s too quiet,” you huffed as you threw another rock into the river. The *splunk* was pretty satisfying.

“That’s the point,” Nicky said. He was laying on the riverbank with hands behind his head. His eyes were closed and his face was illuminated by the sun shining through the leaves above.

“You like listening to nature?” You asked; your fingers were digging through the mud for another rock.

“It’s relaxing,” He said with a smile. “Maybe you'll learn some patience.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You didn’t look up but felt the body sit beside you, her arm brushing against yours only briefly. It sent a shiver down your spine and your eyes fell shut for a moment. Only for a moment. When they opened again, you looked back out at the river. It was too quiet.

You felt numb.

“Hailey told me you were out here,” Ash whispered. Please shut up. “She wanted me to check on you.” Of course she did.

"Go away, Ash," you said just as quietly.

"All due respect, sweetheart, I'm stayin," she answered. "I know you, and the last thing you need is to be alone."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You asked. "You never used to care this much." It was a low blow and you knew it. Your eyes travelled down to the mud by your freezing legs. Without hesitation, your fingers dug in, searching blindly for something to grab.

"I grew up a little," Ash said with a light chuckle.

You hummed in response. It wasn't like you were really in the mood to talk to her anyway, and she probably knew it. Something hard stopped your digging and you slowly excavated it, lifting your hand to show off a rock. Simple, grey, jagged. You halfheartedly tossed it into the water and got to digging again.

"How's that girl from your school?" Ash asked after a few minutes of silence. "The one you brought home a few months ago."

"Small talk isn't necessary," you said quickly. "It's not even wanted-"

"-You can't push me away this time, Johnson," she cut in. "It worked before but it won't work now." You found another rock.

“Or you could just go hang out with Johnny,” you grumbled when Ash sighed. “Clearly he’s better company.”

“He’s my best friend,” she shot back. “I can have friends, can’t I?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug. You weren’t looking at her. “You can hang out with him while I sit here and worry about my brother who's still in a coma.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ash said quickly. “You know that’s now what I mean.”

“Just leave.”

“Gladly.”

“So how is she?”

“I don’t know.” You threw the rock into the river. “Think I fucked it up already.”

“You tend to do that,” she said with a soft chuckle. Your fingers were already in the mud. “Wanna talk about it?”

No, you thought. But yes. The look of absolute pain on Wednesday’s face when you had turned away after she had confessed. Fuck, she had confessed. She had done it and you hadn’t even had the good sense to say anything positive. You were more than aware of how difficult it was for her to express emotions, but after this? You’d be lucky if she even looked at you again.

“She told me she loved me yesterday,” you said softly, your eyes travelling down to the mud. Still no rocks.

“At a funeral?” Ash scoffed.

“Her parents confessed at a funeral,” you said simply with a shrug. There was a beat of silence.

“She looks like her parents confessed at a funeral,” she finally said in a hushed voice, almost like she was experiencing a new revelation.

It almost made you laugh.

“Shut up,” you chuckled as you lightly elbowed her in the side.

“Did you say it back?”

Silence.

“Y/N,” Ash scolded. You stopped digging for rocks just long enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “You said it back, right?”

“I was a little distracted-”

“-You’re such a dick.” She elbowed you back; far harder than you had done to her. “That was probably peak romance for her.”

“I’m sorry I was mourning my brother, Ashley,” you taunted back. “A love confession wasn’t necessarily on my list of things to expect for the day.”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Ash asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Go back and apologise!” She shouted. The birds stopped chirping for a few seconds before resuming their relaxing songs. “And return the love, for fuck sake.”

“Why do you even care?” You asked. The search for rocks to throw was long forgotten.

“Because I saw your face when she kissed your cheek,” Ash sighed. “And I know she was simply markin’ her territory, but you looked happy.” Her eyes met yours; they were soft. Reminiscent of all those years ago. “I don’t think you were ever that happy with me.”

“We were kids,” you said, turning to look back out at the brook. You couldn’t handle her stare anymore. “Not sure we could have-”

“-Will you shut the hell up?” She interrupted. “Fuck, Y/N, that girl can keep you.” A huff left her lips.

“You’re doing a wonderful job at comforting me,” you grumbled.

“Go tell her,” Ash said again in a tone that left no room for argument. “Because if she doesn’t take you back then we’ll be stuck with you.” She was trying not to smile.

“You’re a bitch.”

“And you’re a dick.” Her smile turned softer, less taunting. “But you’re a dick who deserves a little bit of happiness after this clusterfuck.”

“Thanks, Ash,” you whispered.

“Just make sure you change first,” she said, her tone sounding more judgmental. “You smell like a pig.” Her eyes went down to the mud on your pants. “Look like one too.”

“Get the hell away from me,” you grumbled as you pushed her away. “Ha!” You laughed when she got her own shirt covered in mud.

“God, I hate you,” Ash grumbled. “Messin’ up my good shirt.”

Silence fell over the both of you and you looked back out over the babbling brook that no longer seemed quite as inviting. Now it was just a brook, and the frogs were just frogs, and the birds were just enjoying their day. 

For just a moment, the anger had dissipated and you could sit there. Nicky was still on your mind, and your father was still on your mind, and Wednesday was still on your mind, and everything was still slowly falling apart. But for a moment, you could sit there.

Ash was right. You needed to go back and talk with Wednesday. She would understand, right? If she would just listen and let you explain and hopefully let you say those three words back to her, it would be okay. It would be okay, right? Your pulse started to race in your ears again.

You felt numb.

—---

Getting back to Nevermore had been easy enough. You had said your goodbyes to Ash (and promptly told her not to contact you again) before heading back to the house. A quick shower (which almost felt nice after nearly two weeks without it), a change of clothes, goodbyes to everyone except Hailey (who was still furious), and a quick flight home.

Well, it wasn’t a quick flight. But it was a flight.

“Thank heavens.”

You felt a body crash into you when you walked through the front doors of Nevermore Academy again. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. There was only a moment of hesitation before you dropped your duffel bag and returned the hug, leaning completely into Mama Weems. The familiar scent of lavender and tea invaded your senses and for a moment, your shoulders sagged as you exhaled slowly.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again,” she whispered into your ear. Her grip tightened ever so slightly. So did yours.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back. There was a lump in your throat and a stinging in your eyes.

You felt numb.

It was the only warm welcome you got back at Nevermore.

Ajax and Kent had waved at you from across the courtyard before Divina and Enid pulled them away. The migraine came back, but you physically shook it away. They probably just wanted to give you some space, right? You weren’t exactly one to talk openly anyway, they were being polite.

But then Yoko practically refused to look at you. You had tried to approach her the next day, but she almost immediately turned in the other direction and walked into one of the classrooms. There was an undeniable skip in your heartbeat, but you ignored it. You had ignored her for two weeks and she had seen you lose your shit; she always hated it. It made sense that she was going to keep her distance. Right?

No one let Eugene get near you. Plain and simple as that.

And you hadn’t seen hide or hair of Wednesday even after three days of being back.

“Where is she?” You asked Bianca after cornering her before a class.

“I have physics,” she said.

“I need to talk to her,” you said again. “Everyone can ignore me again later, but I need to talk to her.”

“She’ll be practising her cello in her dorm tonight,” Bianca said with only a moment of thought. “Why do you need to talk to her?” She straightened up.

“I reacted poorly to something,” you said with a sigh. Bianca was going to be late to class; she didn’t seem to care. “And Ash said I-”

“-You talked with your ex before talking with your girlfriend?” Bianca interrupted. “Are you stupid?”

“Clearly,” you said as you threw your hands in the air. “That’s why I need to apologise.”

“Don’t tell her you talked to Ash,” she said with a pointed look. “Especially if you’re already in the doghouse.”

“Keep the trio away?” You asked.

Bianca didn’t answer, but nodded once after exhaling slowly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, quickly stepping aside so she could get to class.

When you were finally standing in front of Wednesday’s door that evening, you felt numb.

Usually you would just walk in. After so long of being friends with Enid, and then with Wednesday, you had earned the privilege of coming in unannounced. But now? After the past few weeks and particularly after your reaction? Just the thought of walking in made your stomach churn. So you lifted your hand, knocked three times, and waited.

Wednesday was already in her everyday clothes when she opened the door. And yet, you couldn’t have found her more beautiful. You had missed her. If nothing else, you had just missed her company, her presence reminding you that on purpose someone chose to be with you. On purpose someone actually wanted you.

But then you saw the light bags under her eyes, and the downturn of her lips, and that murderous spark in her eyes. And you knew. You knew what was going on in her head, and you knew your heart wanted to jump out of your chest, and you knew your eyes stung. And you knew she was furious.

“Can we talk?” You asked quietly once you realised Wednesday wasn’t going to say anything.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about,” she said as she walked back out to the balcony.

“Yes there is,” you said. You shut the door behind you and followed after her like a lost puppy. Maybe you were. “I was a dick, and I’m so-”

“-I don’t require your apologies,” she interrupted you. “In fact, I would prefer you keep them to yourself.”

“No, it wasn’t right,” you said quickly. She still wasn’t even paying you any attention. “I didn’t say what I actually wanted to say.”

“I do not wish to hear what you wanted to say,” Wednesday said, and you froze. She was talking differently, like she had when you had first met. Why was she talking differently?

“What?” Maybe you heard her wrong.

“You made it clear you are either unable or unwilling to reciprocate,” she said, finally turning around to look at you. If you looked a little closer, you could see the slightest pink tint to her eyes.

“I’m- I’m not- I-” You couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t get the fucking words out.

“Yoko has informed me of your unfortunate incidents around verbal affection.” She barely even let you open your mouth to answer. “To save us both some trouble, I have decided to return to our previous acquaintanceship so you may have the space you require.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

If your heart could physically break, that’s exactly what it was doing. You could hear and feel each individual beat of your heart, each one hurting more than the last. It made you want to rip into your chest with your bare hands and pull it out, offering the broken muscle to Wednesday on a silver platter if that’s what it would take to make it stop hurting.

“Acq- a- a- acquaintanceship?” You asked, shaking your head. Trying to get the migraine to go away. “Wednesday that’s- that’s not- I don’t-”

“-I am in the middle of something,” Wednesday interrupted. “You may say what you wish to say, then leave me to my allotted practice time.”

She turned her back to you and sat down in her chair on the balcony. Her delicate fingers repositioned the cello and picked up the bow, and it was like you weren’t even there. Like you hadn’t just come by to say you were sorry, to say you loved her too. You were nothing more than an inconvenience to her schedule, just like old times.

And you couldn’t even blame her.

The music started to resonate through the open window, bouncing off the walls of the room. It echoed in your skull and picked apart the folds of your brain one by one, like it was slicing the excess chunks off until it could force itself into every available inch of space. Usually you loved to hear her play, loved to sit on the roof above her and just watch until she was finished; a watchful gargoyle against the inky black sky.

But now? No, now it was just intolerable. Unbearable, even.

She didn’t turn around when you dragged your leaden feet to the door. Didn’t check on you when you tripped over the air, your feet hitting the ground with a little extra force. And she certainly didn’t turn around when you did. Don’t let me leave, your heart begged her.

“I just…” Don’t say it, your mind told you. Please say it, your heart cried. “I love you too, Wednesday.”

The cello came to a screeching halt, only for a second before resuming again. Wednesday didn’t turn around; you knew she wouldn’t. And all those big feelings you had finally mentally agreed to start feeling grabbed the shovel and started digging until they were six feet under the numbness.

Not even anger stayed on the surface. Not this time.

With shaky, sweating hands you opened the door and stood face to face with Enid, Yoko, and Divina. A lump formed in the back of your throat as you looked at each of them briefly. You forced an unconvincing smile and gently pushed past them. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as they watched you leave, but you didn’t care.

What was there to even care about anymore?

You felt numb.

—---

There was a reason Wednesday had never let anyone too close. It was a distraction, a liability, and it was a gateway to feeling hurt. Nothing good ever came out of letting anyone close. After all, look what had happened with Nero? She had loved him, and all it had gotten her was suffering. And not the good kind.

That’s what you had done. You had hurt her, and she hated you for it. She knew your situation, she understood as best as she possibly could. But her childish feelings had led to you hurting her. She had dared to open up and feel something, and it had led to all this unbearable suffering. Maybe she had been right when she had told her mother she would never fall in love.

It was impossible not to see you around Nevermore, and that made everything so much harder. You were there in class, grading papers or cleaning up afterwards. You were there in the quad, walking with Weems with a straight back and wings hidden. You were there in Jericho, sitting on a bench with shaking hands and a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

She hated you for that too. For looking so pitiful all the time, like a stray dog begging for someone to give them attention. Yoko was still upset with you, she had made it very clear on numerous occasions. But Kent and Ajax had pulled you in again, always sitting with you or hanging out with you again. You almost smiled on those days.

You turned cold with everyone. The occasional nod of acknowledgment, or even a small wave was all anyone got out of you. Not that she had tried to get your attention, she had told you to leave. Had downgraded your relationship to nothing more than acquaintances on the best of days. But she didn’t think you would have actually listened to her and started practically ignoring her.

More than once, Wednesday found you in some sort of disarray once the work day was done. Sometimes you were dangerously high in Kent and Ajax’s room, not saying a word but eyes focused on the ceiling. One of the boys always tried to keep the door closed enough for you to be hidden when she came by, but she could still see you. It was pathetic, truly. At least she tried to convince herself it was.

Other times she found you wandering the grounds late at night. Never with your wings out and always near the lake. She could see you from her balcony; sometimes she would catch you while practicing cello, other times she was actively looking for you. You would stand out there and just look. More than once you toed your shoes off and dove into the freezing water, fully clothed. Wednesday would wait with bated breath until you finally resurfaced after far too long.

You would crawl back up onto the dock, gasping and sputtering as you laid on your back with your hands over your face. She didn’t have to assume what was on your mind during those nights.

But the worst part was a few weeks later, when everyone was finally starting to talk about the Rave’N once again. You had wormed your way back into sitting with the group during meals, talking with everyone as if nothing had happened. Well, everyone except her. There was still a certain lack of emotion to your words, and an underlying anger.

With the way you talked to her though, as if she was someone you had barely met before instead of someone you had harboured feelings for. That was what hurt. Yes, she had told you to simply be an acquaintance, but she hadn’t expected it to be this utterly painful. To have you so close, the heat from your body warming her own, but not being able to touch you.

Wednesday knew it was unfair. She knew she should have heard you out, listened to you, even accepted whatever apology you would have attempted to come up with. It had been clear you were sincere, and she knew you were suffering over your own things. There was no ground for her to be painting you as the villain in this whole situation.

But she had made her choice. Yoko had told her of your aversion to people loving you. How you felt it only led to the suffering of those who fell victim to it. Nicky, Hailey, Alex, your ex. Each had suffered in some way after admitting their affections aloud.

Wednesday supposed she now could sign her name on that list as well.

“Are you going with Dumb and Dumber?” Divina asked you. You stopped picking apart your sandwich for a moment to look up before resuming. “Or Bianca?”

“Nah.” You shook your head slowly. “I volunteered as a chaperone.”

“So someone can spike the punch,” Yoko said with a small smile. “Devious.”

“More like so I can get out of cleanup duty,” you answered quickly. “You going with anyone, Addams?”

You mean far too much to call me that, Wednesday’s black heart cried. Your eyes were far too gentle and there was too much left unsaid in your question. Why were you being so gentle? She wanted you to fight back. If you weren’t going to fight for her, then she wanted you to fight her.

“You could always take Xavier,” Enid teased.

“She’s a sadist, not a masochist, Sinclair,” you shot back. But Wednesday saw the slightest downturn of the corner of your lips before you turned to look at her again. “You could do better.”

I can, she thought. I had you. But she kept her mouth shut and looked back down at the half eaten apple sitting in front of her. You shouldn’t be giving her relationship advice, you should be the one with her. You pushed her away, her mind told her. She just scowled and kept her head down.

“What about the barista at the Weathervane?” Yoko asked. “That Galpin kid.”

“Barista?” You asked as your head shot up. Wednesday noticed Yoko was staring directly at you with furrowed brows, almost daring you to say something wrong. “What barista?”

“He’s been sweet on Wednesday for the past month or so,” Yoko continued. Stop it, Wednesday thought when she could practically see the gears turning in your head, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. You’ll make her give up. “Some normie kid.”

“Wait, Tyler?” You asked.

“The Sheriff’s son,” Yoko said with a nod. She almost looked confident; it wasn’t a good look for her.

“You know Tyler?” Divina asked. Was he another ex of yours? Clearly you had them and weren’t keen on sharing your past experiences.

Oh. That thought was far more vindictive than Wednesday had intended. What were you even doing to her?

“They fought a few times,” Yoko answered before you could. You were still staring at your sandwich, lost in thought. “Didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Sheriff Galpin knows me by name.”

“You should go with him,” Yoko said, finally turning to look at Wednesday. She was planning something. “I guess he’s cute. You two would be the talk of the dance.”

Wednesday turned to look at you from the corner of her eyes. She wanted you to say something. Argue, tell her it was stupid, fight her about it. But you didn’t. You didn’t even look at her, instead moving to pick apart the granola bar now that your sandwich was decimated.

Conversation ceased until everyone separated again.

Wednesday wasn’t convinced about asking Tyler to the Rave’N. Yes, he had been seeming far more interested in her over the past few weeks, and yes, he had given her free quads lately. Did she like him? He had done nothing of worth, so she felt absolutely nothing for him.

“Go ask him,” Ajax urged two evenings later while everyone was at the Weathervane.

You included. Currently you were on the other side of the cafe, sitting across the table from Bianca talking about who-knew-what. Neither one of you were smiling, but you rarely did when together. At least not when Wednesday was observing you both. You didn’t look upset; more neutral.

“She’ll see you ask him, get jealous, and then you’re in the clear,” Kent continued.

“Are you two high?” Enid asked cautiously.

“Not currently,” Ajax answered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re being so stupid,” Enid sighed.

“This ploy appears immature,” Wednesday said with a frown.

“If it works, does it matter?” Kent scoffed.

“Kent-”

“-Hear us out,” Ajax interrupted Enid. “I’ll comfort her about Nicky all day every day,” he started, “but that bitch needs tough love when it comes to relationships.”

“That sounds counterproductive,” Wednesday said.

“That’s why it works,” Ajax said with a smile and a nod. “If you think it’s ridiculous, then it works on her.”

“Oh my god,” Enid huffed. “Willa, just please ask Tyler to the Rave’N already so we can get back to normal.” She looked at Wednesday more seriously than ever before. “Thing and I want our cuddle buddy back.”

Wednesday looked over at you once again. You leaned back in your chair with your eyes on the coffee in front of you that was no longer steaming. You never finish it anymore, she thought with a slight frown. Was that her fault? Did you no longer drink coffee after she had given you space?

No. It couldn’t be her fault. She was never wrong.

Without a second glance in your direction, Wednesday stood up and walked to the counter with a purpose. Tyler was already there, cleaning something that, realistically, he had already cleaned. She noticed he had a habit of cleaning things when he was bored. Admirable, really.

“Need another quad?” Tyler asked with what Wednesday supposed everyone else would call a boyish smile.

“Do you have plans this Saturday evening?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“Plans?” He asked, mirroring her. Clever. “Not yet.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Then you can accompany me to the Rave’N.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asked, his smile turning into a smirk. “I won’t go unless I’m asked.”

Wednesday blinked once. The absolute audacity of this boy. Who did he think he was to demand to be asked? It almost stopped her right there, going back to the table because we tried, he’s not worth the effort, better luck next time. But Ajax and Kent swore it would work…

“Would you… go… to the Rave’N with me?” She asked with great struggle. The look in Tyler’s eyes indicated he enjoyed it.

“I would love to,” he said softly. “I’ll pick you up from your dorm at 7.”

She didn’t bother saying anything else to him. The whole situation was humiliating enough without adding even more conversation. When she turned around, she saw you; you were furious. If looks could kill, Tyler would have been eviscerated. Your bottom jaw readjusted a few times before you looked back down at your coffee.

Maybe this ridiculous plan would work after all.

The pointless dance came far sooner than Wednesday had been prepared for. She had been so busy watching you, revelling in your petty comments on Tyler and your sudden possessiveness that made occasional appearances. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the Rave’N was actually arriving, and you weren’t actually going with her.

For a moment she had forgotten about the current situation.

“You look beautiful,” Tyler said as he stood outside the now-opened dorm door.

“Let’s get going,” she said simply. “Thing, don’t wait up.”

Thing saluted and tucked back into the magazine he was reading. Wednesday took the corsage from Tyler and quickly walked away. The sooner this whole dance was over, the better. If Ajax and Kent’s stupid plan didn’t work, she was going to kill them. Slowly and painfully.

You were already at the dance by the time everyone arrived. Weems had greeted them, giving Wednesday a particularly unusual look, but you were inside. Not too far from the DJ, locked into what appeared to be a heated discussion with Eugene. The both of you were in white suits, and she wouldn’t deny you looked particularly stunning.

White was a wonderful colour on you.

Talk was cheap the entire night, not that she was paying attention. She was too distracted keeping an eye on you. On the way you were constantly walking around, fidgeting with your hands, tapping your foot far too offbeat to be usual. More often than not she would catch your eye; only for a moment, but that moment made her stomach twist into knots.

She had missed it.

“I’ll grab some punch,” Tyler said into her ear in an attempt to be heard over the music. She nodded once before he left.

Much to her excitement, you caught him at the table. That was the moment Wednesday realised Yoko was right; you two had history. It was evident in the frown on your face and the tight set of your jaw. In the way your lip lifted into a snarl at something he said. In the way you reached out and grabbed his arm when he tried to walk away.

She couldn’t hear what you were telling him, but she didn’t have to be smart to know it was about her. Not when the both of you turned your head simultaneously to look at her. She knew she should look at Tyler; he was her date for the night.

But she was looking at you. Only at you.

“I can see why you two aren’t together anymore,” Tyler said as he handed a cup to Wednesday once he got back to the group.

“Watch it, normie,” Bianca said. It wasn’t a threat. Yet. “You’re only a guest for the night.”

Everyone started conservative conversations, not about anything special. Now that everyone was on edge, no one deemed it appropriate to have fun. Wonderful, now they could feel almost as miserable as Wednesday did. Not that she was listening, of course, she was too busy staring at the cup sitting in front of her-

“-Wednesday.”

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, barely even touching her. She twisted in her seat in time to see you pull your hand back, holding the recently formed fist to your stomach. You were worrying your lip in that way she had become accustomed to, and your eyes were flitting between her and where Tyler was sitting.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She nodded once and stood up from her seat without wasting a single breath to tell anyone where she was going. Everyone should have noticed anyway, if the grin on Yoko’s and Divina’s faces were anything to go by. Your knuckles brushed against her hand before you quickly pulled away again.

“Be careful around Tyler,” you said once you had pulled her to the far side of the room.

It was the place where you had both stayed during the Rave’N last year. Had you done that on purpose? Or was the small detail so important, so ingrained into your head that you had done it subconsciously? Would she have even preferred it one way or another?

“He’s a prick,” you continued with a snarl of your lip. You glanced up in the direction of the table before looking back down.

“I simply needed someone to accompany me,” Wednesday said quickly. Don’t tell her that.

“To give me space,” you said with a nod. She blinked once and nodded back. “I don’t need space.”

“Yoko said-”

“-Quit listening to what Yoko said,” you interrupted not unkindly. “Listen to what I’m saying.”

Wednesday met your eyes. She could hold eye contact indefinitely if the need arose, unless it was with you. For once, you didn’t look high and you had clear eyes again. How long had it been since you had last been sober? There was such a clarity and intensity in your gaze that it was almost like you were looking through her.

And she missed you. Having you so close, your face mere inches from hers once again. It was disgusting, and humiliating, but she missed you. Missed your proximity, your voice, the way you looked at her as if you would break her. Yet even then you never treated her as fragile; instead like she was invaluable, irreplaceable even.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, her eyes flitting down to look at your lips as you licked them once.

“I just-”

-Your eyes darted up for a second before you did a quick double take. You straightened your back and kept looking behind Wednesday. She turned her head, almost instantly finding what had caught your attention. Sheriff Galpin had walked into the room with three officers - clearly not from Jericho, if the gear was anything to go by - following after him.

You both watched as Sheriff Galpin walked directly to Tyler, talking and gesturing. She hoped he was only coming to talk to his son; that would be typical for the man who barely tolerated Outcasts to begin with. But then they both turned and looked in her direction, in your direction.

“Y/N,” Sheriff Galpin said with what Wednesday could only describe as a pained smile.

“I didn’t touch Tyler,” you said with a shake of your head.

“That’s not why I’m here, kid,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“What is going on here?” Weems asked as she came up to the group. She looked furious.

“Out of my jurisdiction,” Sheriff Galpin said with a halfhearted shrug.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” One of the officers behind Sheriff Galpin told you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, but did exactly as directed.

“You’re under arrest for battery domestic violence and two counts of homicide,” the first officer said as the other put the handcuffs around your wrists.

“I beg your pardon?” Weems asked. “Where are these charges coming from?”

“You have the right to remain silent.”

The music continued to blare in the room, and everyone continued dancing. But the only thing Wednesday could hear was a ringing in her ears. You turned your head to lock eyes with her, and it felt like her heart had stopped beating. There was a fear in your eyes, but also something else. Something that was emphasised by the sag in your shoulders and the way your head hung low.

Acceptance.

“Call my Pop,” you said. You hadn’t listened to anything the officer had told you. "Please."

She wanted to reach out to you, to say something to you. Tell you it would be alright, or that she would get you out. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move as they escorted you out of the Rave’N. No, she just stood there with Weems and watched until you disappeared.

You had been arrested. You were being taken to a jail, clearly not in Jericho, and she didn’t know where you were going. She couldn’t keep you safe, she didn’t get to hear what you had to say. You would now be labelled a criminal.

Maybe she had a type.

[hollowwrites]

The Room of Reconciliation

Ominis x MC

Summary - Tensions had been high between the Slytherin Trio shortly after the Undercroft Catastrophe.

Warnings - Angst into Comfort, Evelyn mom mentioned right at the beginning (Fluff if you’re sick of it but I’m continuing to add my boi into every square inch of that game (someone mentioned this to me ages ago I’m so sorry I lost who it was))

Word Count - 2928

~

She’d overreacted. She knew that.

Crying because a boy had shouted at her. Grow Up, Evelyn.

Make your mother proud.

Of course, that was the reason she was in such a foul mood that day in the first place. And why she was so easily brought to tears.

The day Ominis had shouted at her for entering the Undercroft was her mother’s birthday. A sensitive day that had started off terribly in it own right.

She’d fell up the stairs leading out of the Common Room. Missed Breakfast. Gotten into trouble because of Garreth, again. And spent most of her day without her wand after forgetting it in her bedside table. Getting used to carrying the thing around hadn’t quite become second nature yet.

So when Sebastian approached her in the late afternoon, a cheeky smile and a twinkle in his eye, she didn’t think twice to follow him. And when he mentioned, repeatedly, that it was Ominis’ place, something Ominis had shown him…it hadn’t occurred to her to refuse, and perhaps ask Ominis for his permission beforehand.

She simply followed.

And she had a blast.

Sebastian was right, there was something about that spell that was addictive. Cathartic.

It wasn’t until Ominis’ sharp authoritative tone cut through her reverie that she snapped. And the whole day just became too much.

And she hadn’t spoken to him since.

It had been a week.

Pretty impressive considering they shared a Common Room, multiple classes and a best friend.

It wasn’t like she actively ignored him. More that she felt an intense guilt every time she looked at him. Everytime his milky eyes settled over her, she just saw…betrayal.

Especially with Professor Weasley showing her the Room of Requirement the very next day. She didn’t even need the Undercroft. She hadn’t used it once. Whether that made her presence there in the first place any better she didn’t know.

But spending no time in the Undercroft, hours holed away in Room of Requirement and daily task and chores occupying any time available after that, Evelyn had become…lonely.

Sebastian had become a little…manic. Shortly after the Undercroft incident, Sebastian invited Evelyn to visit his family. Whether it was to cheer Anne up by meeting someone new, or cheer Evelyn up by taking her mind off Ominis, she wasn’t sure.

Either way it hadn’t worked.

Sebastian’s home life just made her feel…empty. The confrontation with Solomon had left her both angry and yet incredibly sad. Anne was stuck amongst this in immense pain. Sebastian felt helpless and Solomon was clearly an unfit guardian for two teenagers he neither wanted nor seemingly cared about.

She couldn’t exactly blame Sebastian for his behaviour. But she had to admit, the far off unfocused gaze and sudden downturn of his lips was jarring. Just the week before, he asked her to learn unsanctioned spells and blast braziers until they were both rosy cheeked and giggling.

Now she could barely get a chuckle out of him.

In the space of a week, she’d lost her closest friends in this new mysterious world. If she didn’t have Imelda and her constant abrasive form of affection, Evelyn very well may have lost it. As it stood she just became a husk, trudging from class to class, trail to trail, chore to chore. Barely taking in her environment as she did.

Which explains how she come crashing into Ominis after leaving the Charms Classroom.

Because he had become the same.

His wand even alerted him to the presence coming from the classroom. It notified him of their trajectory all the way until it came fumbling into him.

He just ignored it.

Because he didn’t care.

Anne was gone, he was losing Sebastian and he’d pushed Evelyn away. He, too, was a husk.

“Watch where you’re-” Ominis snapped, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter. His instant aggression and plastered on sneer faltered when he heard the tiny exhale forced from her chest and the unmistakable scent of Roses. “…Evelyn”

“…Ominis…” she breathed. A moment of stunned silence fell over them before she blinked herself back to reality. His wand rolled towards her, bumping against her shoe as she knelt to retrieve it.

Surely it was the least she could do.

She extended her hands towards him, his wand still blinking somehow as Ominis reached to take it back.

“Thank you…” he said softly, his eyes holding a deep sadness behind them and she wondered why. But, as he so aptly pointed out, they weren’t friends, so she didn’t have the right to ask what was wrong

“You’re Welcome…” She replied sheepishly with an equally pained expression.

An awkward, heart-achingly long silence stretched before them as she stared at the ground. His feet were a much safer location to stare than the piercing judgemental wells of his eyes. Neither made any move to leave, though neither said anything either. Both of them choosing to wallow in this sickening pit of longing and despair.

No sense in attempting to hide away from the negativity. It only bled into their everyday life, both becoming a shell of their former selves. Though many hadn’t seen this side of Evelyn, the cold hard faced figure. They’d only seen her chipper almost gleeful persona as she flitted around. And why wouldn’t she be happy? She’d discovered magic and all the wonders that that held. She’d made friends she didn’t even know existed a few months ago.

And yet…

With this bump in the road, everything she had pushed deep down came bubbling to the surface like one of Garreth’s failed concoctions.

Mr Osrics death, Ranrok, Rookwood, Goblin Rebellions, Annes Curse…

Now she wore them on her sleeve, a near constant frown etched into her features.

Though Ominis’ was a regular occurrence. Whether it was Sebastian winding him up or his family making themselves known, he’d earned a reputation for being stoic and unfeeling.

In actuality, Ominis felt things probably more than most. He was just better at hiding it.

They both were…

The sounds of Evelyn running and crying from him had eaten away at him over the last week. And he found himself now in an uncomfortable position of admitting fault and asking for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry” They said in unison, causing them both to laugh softly and the tension to shatter into a thousand glorious little pieces.

“Please…allow me to go first” Ominis said with a gentle smile and hands raised in surrender. He mulled the words over in his mind before he spoke. “…You shouldn’t have to apologise. At all. It was Sebastian I was angry at and you, unfortunately, just happened to be in my line of sight…” he chuckled softly, almost to himself “…so to speak”

“But…”

“No. I shan’t hear it. I said-” a deep regretful sigh left his chest “…I said some, frankly, horrible things to you. And my pride got in the way of apologising”

His posture was always bad. But there was something about the slouch of his shoulders, the hunch of his back, that looked like he was trying to shrink away from everything. Like he was readying for her to reject him entirely.

“Still though…That place was special to you and now it’s…less so. Because of me…” the mournful tone of her voice was immediately recognisable to Ominis.

Though he wasn’t certain of what she looked like, he had a rough idea from what Sebastian had told him and what was silhouetted from his wand. He could imagine her upturned brows, the sad tug of her lips. Then he remembered her little sobs as she ran from the Undercroft and he could almost see the tears breaching her lashes.

“Nonsense…” he whispered, tormented by his own mental image of her “…it’s not any less special because you know of it. In fact…”

Careful, now

“I was planning on showing you the Undercroft myself. I was simply…frustrated Sebastian got there before me” the lopsided way he smiled was endearing and she found herself smiling dreamily up at him, despite his inability to actually see it.

“Really?”

“Yes. I wanted to show you because you’re my friend, not just Sebastians” As he took back the words he cut her so deeply with before, he felt the sting of them on his tongue.

“I must say…that is a relief to hear. I was afraid I’d…never mind. I’m just sorry any of this happened” she said quickly, hoping to get the words out before he cut her off, explaining that she needn’t apologise.

“I’m sorry I spoke to you in the manner I did. It was rude and childish. And I certainly should’ve have threatened you with expulsion…” Ominis shook his head as though he was retroactively disappointed in his own actions.

“No, it’s fine. I understand where you were coming from. I’m-“

“If you apologise again I will speak to Professor Black about having you removed from the premises…” his lopsided smile morphed to a smirk, pulled wide across his cheeks. He chuckled when he heard her close her mouth, the distinct little huff she exhaled from her nose clear to him as she pouted.

She often did this. A little quirk he’d known many people do when they showed dissatisfaction but hers was…unique. The huff sounded almost like a laugh, a humourless and pouty thing that bought endless joy when he teased her.

“How about you stop apologising and we try to move on? If you would like to, of course” He offered a hand outstretched to her. He wasn’t even really sure why. Just that a part of him wanted to feel her again, and this was the most natural way he could think of.

That’s when her cool fingertips grazed across his palm and shook his hand in the daintiest of hand shakes he had ever experienced.

Difficult to imagine this was the same girl who had effortlessly defended Hogsmeade against a troll. And a myriad of other pointless and dangerous tasks appointed to her.

“I’d like that…” her gentle pleasing tone sang out from below him.

The moment she agreed, his whole demeanour shifted. He stood a little straighter, shoulders more square and yet somehow he looked more…relaxed.

“I’d like that too” he said more relieved than she thought he would be.

“I do have a way to make it up to you though” she offered as her finger slipped from his grasp, moving over to weave her fingers amongst his. She tugged on his hand but he remained stationary. His fingers did indeed weave with hers but he stood steadfast as a curious smile tugged at his lips.

“You don’t have to make anything up to me” he borderline whispered. His voice was always soft but this was new. Gentle in a way he’d never shown previously.

“Please? It would make me feel better besides…it offers you an avenue away from Sebastian”

Upon hearing those words Ominis’ brow raised with boyish curiosity.

He loved Sebastian, he really did…

But

The near constant questioning of his families knick knacks, hidden knowledge and…gods he wished he’d never mentioned that damned Scriptorium. Just the mere utterance of Salazar Slytherin had Sebastian foaming at the mouth and every single conversation thereafter had been consumed by it. No longer did they indulge in casual chatter. No more quidditch theories. No more fiction recommendations. No more Sebastian.

And with sharing a dorm, the Undercroft and most classes…Ominis had been left with little peace.

“Oh? I suppose I can hear you out…” Ominis asked with just the slightest edge of guilt. “…How were you planning on making this up to me?”

Evelyn grinned upon seeing the usual teasing smirk pull across his lips.

“It’s easier if I show you…” she said tugging on his arm playfully once again, only this time…he relented, taking a few steps forward with a roll of his eyes.

“Lead the way…”

~

Thankfully, they stumbled into each other not far from their destination. Though she did have to convince him she wasn’t leading him to his death and planned on pushing him off the Astrology Tower. He laughed softly at her faux outrage, offering her arm to guide him up the few stairs leading towards that infamous ogre tapestry.

They stood for a moment in awkward silence.

Not because it was awkward between them, but because the door to the Room of Requirement did not show itself. She worried for a moment that the sentient room knew she was trying to show someone and it refused or that perhaps their needs were different and it didn’t know how to differentiate between the two.

“It’s here…” she muttered desperately, releasing his arm and beginning to pace up and down the little empty hallway.

The sounds of a rather lively Astrology class rang down the wooden staircase ahead of them and Ominis shook his head with a small laugh.

He had a near exact copy of Hogwarts’ complicated and winding hallways in his mind. There was nothing here. Just an old dusty tapestry and the Astrology Tower.

The smell of musk and the distant sounds of that rambunctious class of third years was evidence of that. Until…

A slight rubble and crackle of stone turned his attention toward the blank wall ahead of them. He placed his hand against the stone, cautiously. The grinding of stone against stone didn’t sound the safest and yet it moved harmlessly under his palm, twisting and transfiguring to a warm wood and cool metal.

Of course

“You found the Room of Requirement?” Ominis grinned, turning his head towards the buzzing and ecstatic Evelyn behind him.

“Found is a strong word…” she said, the joy in her voice unmistakeable “…Professor Weasley instructed me to look here and it presented itself to me”

She took his hand, the one not pressed curiously to the wall and gently guided him inside the Room.

Ominis felt a strange shift in the atmosphere as he stepped past the threshold. Neither out in the open, nor indoors. The air felt…artificial. Stagnant. Generated in some way. Not entirely unpleasant.

A welcoming warmth wrapped around him as Evelyn brought him into a larger room. Not huge. Roughly the same size as the dorms but all for her. For them.

She bought him around the Room, narrating along as she did.

“There’s a fireplace and settees. Bookcases. This here leads to where I’ve been practising spells and potions and…well…everything. But this…”

She gently turned him and guided him to another room. Smaller and cooler.

“…I left this for you.”

Ominis stepped away from her and into ‘His’ room. His wand alerted him to the snug way the walls tapered in around them, the narrow walkway around a huge plush bed that took up almost the entire room.

He had been struggling to sleep…

“I found it shortly after Sebastian showed me the Undercroft. I felt so guilty, I’ve been coming here instead. Only I know about it…in this form at least”

“It’s perfect…” Ominis finally spoke, running his hand along the bed runner with a gentle smile and a voice filled with gratitude and relief.

He fought everything inside him telling him to pull her into a warm embrace. They didn’t have that kind of relationship, as much as he wanted to. As much as he craved her touch. He settled for something little, reaching out to her arm, squeezing affectionately before letting his fingers drop to hers. And she reciprocated, her own lazily linking with his.

“We can share this space…” she whispered “…we could arrange it so we have our own time to ourselves. Maybe putting a tie on the door handle if we don’t want to be disturbed…” she laughed softly, earning a playful rise of Ominis’ brows.

“…I’d like that. Thank you”

“It’s okay…” she shrugged, Ominis’ fingers tightening somewhat as her arm accidentally pulled her from his grasp “…I took away your safe haven, it’s only fair I replace it”

Ominis sighed sharply, turning and holding Evelyn by her cheeks.

“You did not take away anything…” he said with a strange authority, like how a father might scold a child when they aren’t listening “…I acted like a brute. You did nothing wrong”

He felt her lean into his hand slightly and her cheek puff out as she smiled sheepishly.

And…

Was that a mole he could feel beneath his palm?

He could…see her!

He dropped his hands from her face, blinking rapidly to rid images of her from his head.

If he dwelled on them for too long he would want to see her completely. And he told himself not to get that close to too many people.

Gods, he hated himself for making that rule!

Oh, actually, I don’t need to know what anyone looks like. If I’ve known them for two years then they are worthy of my time but before that…no.

Stupid angsty little child…

“I’ll leave you to it then…” Evelyn chirped before she turned to leave his domain.

She didn’t get far before his cold hand wrapped around her wrist.

“Before you go…I wanted to say…” he paused momentarily, his lips parted as the words got stuck in his throat. His hesitation turned to nerves as he felt her turn to him completely. Her full attention, on him “…Evelyn, with everything going on; Sebastian, our disagreement, you disappearing to Merlin’s knows where…I just wanted to say I missed you”

A beat of silence hung in the air as Evelyn smiled and stopped herself from jumping into his arms.

“I missed you too…”

Masterlist

[damiansgoodgirll]

posting this one again since it was one of my favorite erling one shot i’ve ever written!

erling haaland x reader

Promise you’ll lie

promise you’ll lie

promise you’ll lie

everything that erling dreamt about was having you by his side. not that you weren’t by his side, you were like brother and sister but he wanted more.

he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, he wanted to make love to you while the sun was shining outside, he wanted to hold you when you had a bad day and he wanted to surprise you or spoil you with random gifts but he knew he couldn’t have it.

you had sleepovers every weekend, it was something that started when you were kids and even if you got older that’s something that never left your weekly list.

but for him, it wasn’t the same having sleepovers with you and sleeping with you. he loved you and you had no idea.

when you were younger you got a crush for erling, more than a crush. but you were young, barely sixteen and you had no idea what love meant.

you knew you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, he never looked at you in that way. but you stayed closed to him and supported him in every way you could. you never missed his games or his interviews or his parties, you were always there for him.

as you got older you tried to find love somewhere else and even if it got a little harder, one day you met someone who really showed you what love meant.

he was kind and patient with you, taking things slow, showing you love and respect and now, two years later you were engaged. you were the happiest woman on earth and you thought that erling was happy for you too but since the engagement announcement he started avoiding you, saying he had things to do with football or sponsors and you got tired of his childish behaviour so one day you decided to confront him about it.

you were currently in his apartment, asking him for an explanation but he looked anything but happy to see you.

“erling, you’re my best friend…i truly don’t get it” you told him.

“i know!” he shouted back.

“why are you mad at me? what have i done to you?” you asked him, on the verge of crying because in all of your years of friendship you never fought this bad.

“i’m not mad at you y/n, i’m mad at me!”

“what? erling please…what is going on?” you asked him again.

“i’m mad at me because in all of these years i never had the courage to tell you how much i love you! i love you y/n and i’m such an idiot for telling you this right after your engagement because i can see how happy you are with him and how much he loves you” it was erling the one who was crying now.

“you love me?” you whispered.

“i do, i love you so much…i want to be the man you wake up next to in the morning, i want to be the man who hold you when you cry or when you have a bad day and i want to be the one who dry your tears…i want to make love to you and show you how much you mean to me…but i know i can’t have that” he said trying to avoid his look because you were speechless.

“i know this is a lot to take in…you just needed to know…” he whispered.

i know i can’t help if you meet someone else

“erling i…” you whispered, no idea of what you were going to say.

“i know i just fucked up our friendship but you deserved to know it…”

“no, you didn’t fucked up our friendship because i can’t imagine a life where you are not here with me…these days without hearing a word from you were the hardest…i need you in my life erling, but not in the way you want me to, i’m sorry…” you apologised knowing you just broke his heart.

“i know…” he was hurting “i know…it will be hard but i’ll always be by your side y/n…you’re still my best friend after all” he wanted to call you love and not best friend but if he had to choose between having you as a friend or not having you at all he chose to have you as a friend because he couldn’t live a life where you weren’t there. 

“okay…i’ll see you tomorrow then? for our brunch?” you asked him, trying to make everything normal again.

“sure” he smiled even if all he wanted to do was crying and screaming.

with those words you left his apartment with heavy heart. 

did you make the right decision? 

what if you were going to regret your wedding? 

no, you loved your boyfriend, you wouldn’t choose it in any other way. 

you can tell him that you love him as long as it’s a lie.

promise you’ll lie, promise you’ll lie.

[mingiswow]

Make a move | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Wooyoung x afab!reader

Words: 5,3k

Genre: Dystopian, smut, angst (just a little)

Content Warning: Mention of death, mention of food and alcohol consumption, mentions of weapons, Wooyoung is a little asshole at the beginning, reader gets a bit anxious, mentions of torture methods, not proof-read

Smut warning: reader has boobs and vagina, oral (both receiving), 69, wooyoung has sensitive nipples, nipple play, piv, unprotected sex, cumshot, multiple orgasms, soft to horny to soft sex, I lost myself writing it again lol, reader gets fucked dumb, switch behaviour from both, if I forgot anything let me know

⚠ If you’re under the age of 18 and/or don’t feel comfortable reading that type of content, I have a lot of other content here.

⚠ English is not my native language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake. And you can always tell me what’s wrong.

a/n: it took me forever but here's the newest part of my dystopian Ateez series. Hope you guys enjoy it because I had fun writing their sex scene... a lot... i got carried away. I truly think 3k it's just filth lol

The loud ringing of the bells on top of the tower in the center of the town announced that the oppositors were captured and the army won. You bit your nails, anxious, inside the bunker. The boys told you not to leave the safe bunker but the anxiety was eating you alive. 

“To worry is to let yourself be killed slowly by the men” the old man, who you thought was asleep, woke you from your thoughts. You turned to give him a sympathetic smile. “As long as they stay true to their beliefs, no harm will happen”

“But what if they got caught? Haven’t you heard the bells?” Your voice sounded more crooked than expected. 

“Have you heard of the ancient torture method of the warm water?” You denied it and sat by his side. “During even darker times there were people whose job was to torture and kill prisoners. One of these many tortures was to drip warm water on the neck of the prisoner, who was locked on all fours and blindfolded and hit the neck. The person would think the water in their neck was their own blood and die of a heart attack. These bells are the same thing. They torture us who are against them making us think we are being captured but it’s just a way to disorient us” you nodded, expecting he was right. After all, he always was. “Remember kid, our mind is our biggest weapon, both in our favor and against us. Now go rest, you haven’t slept in two days” you decided it was best to sleep, your mind and vision starting to blur from the lack of sleep and food. 

The makeshift beds were not even close to comfortable but with your body aching to rest it felt like a bed you’d only see in old princess books and movies that were saved before the apocalypse. Your eyes felt heavy, your body weighed like a thousand kilos and suddenly the blackness and silence hugged you. 

You woke up with the sound of something crashing by your side in the room, startling you.

“Fuck!” Someone you knew very well whispered cursing himself. 

“Woo? Is it you? Are you guys back?”

“Hi. Yeah. We’re back” you jumped from the bed, hugging the man tightly. “Hey, yn. What’s the matter?” 

“I thought you guys were captured when I heard the bells and… and… I was afraid I would never see you guys again” you started crying, hiding your face in his neck, the musty scent of his sweat was weirdly calming and intoxicating to you. 

“We are safe, yn. We are here safe and sound. No need to worry” he hugged you back and sighed. 

For the past months, ever since you arrived at the bunker running from your facility at the town, he was holding his feelings for you. You were just so perfect that he couldn’t help his heart to beat faster every time you did anything really. The way you talked, the way you were so nice to everyone around you even when they weren’t. You blended right away at the bunker, immediately being put in charge of the maintenance and organization of the weapons. Wooyoung was awestruck with you. 

But in his overthinking of a head, he had no chance with you. In his mind, you were not only too perfect for him but you also liked San, his best friend. So no chance he’d be a snitch and steal you from his best friend. 

On the other hand, San knew very well that you had a massive crush on Wooyoung and was trying to help you two get together. But in San’s head Wooyoung was a big loser and every time he tried to bring the you subject up he always cut him, changing the subject or even running away. Also, Wooyoung never mentioned anything about liking you, he truly didn’t understand his friend. 

“I’m glad you are back and well” you said, leaving his embrace, eyes red from crying. 

“Me too” his eyes wandered to your lips but soon left and looked somewhere else, leaving your body that was still close to his. “Hm… San and… and the boys are at the gq. I guess you wanted to see them” you nodded. “So yeah… go there… he- they’re waiting for you” 

“But-“ you were cut short by him just leaving the room. 

You left the room after him, meeting all the boys safe and talking happily with the old man. Yunho was the first one to acknowledge you, coming right at you to give you a hug. 

“You chose just the right weapons this time, rascal” he messed with your hair. 

“If it wasn’t for you, we’d be dead by now” Hongjoong was the next to speak, giving you a fist bump. “And thank goddess you made us take extra munition” you pretended to dust your shoulders and give little kisses, giggling. 

“They surrounded us with more men than expected” Yeosang, who was responsible for the spying and, alongside you, Hongjoong and Seonghwa, made the plans of attack, got into the conversation. “Apparently the mayor is recruiting people from outside the country, from places where there’s little to no opposition to the dictatorship”

“There are places where people don’t care about this shit we are living in?” You asked astonished and the man shook his head denying it. “Damn, I guess they are getting better at brainwashing ever since I left”

You guys kept talking about the mission, and how scary it was but the boys managed to leave the trap. How the troops tried to attack them during the night when they thought they were weaker. It was very intense and sometimes you wanted to go with them but every time they came telling these stories you were glad you were safe at the bunker but nonetheless worried about them. 

San pulled you aside from them in the middle of the conversation. You didn’t see but Wooyoung saw you leaving the room and felt his chest sink in sadness and jealousy. Only if he had the gut to tell you how he felt before San had. 

“We need to solve this thing between you and Woo” he said once you were far from them. 

“Hi to you too. Nice to see. Glad we are all alive” you rolled your eyes and your friend mimicked you. 

“I’m serious here. He thinks we like each other and are together”

“What? How? When? Why?” You started laughing nervously, not really knowing why. 

“Yeah. Yeosang told me, apparently he thinks we are a thing that’s why he never listens to me when I’m talking about you”

“So… he likes me back?” You asked pretty out of yourself with the news. 

“How can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time?”

“It’s called balance” he rolled his eyes again. 

“Anyways. Yes, he likes you and he is jealous of us. We have to fix that” 

“How?”

“That’s where I need you… I don’t know” you hit his shoulder. “Ouch! I just think you should go to him and tell ‘hey so just to be clear I’m single, me and San are not together, you are free to fuck me’ OUCH! Stop hitting me!”

“Then stop talking shit! What if he hears?”

“Who hears what?” The devil himself appeared in the corner. 

“Uh… you see…” you stuttered not really knowing what to say. It was easy. It was simple. But the words just got stuck in your throat. 

“If it’s about you two dating I already know” he walked past you two, knocking San slightly. 

“Have you ever thought about asking us?” Wooyoung turned around to look at his friend. Eyebrow raised. “You took your own conclusions without asking us anything” 

“And what do I have to ask? I can see” 

“Well then you need glasses because you are seeing things where there is nothing and the things you should see you keep blinding yourself” Wooyoung looked at you and you lowered your head and he realized he had fucked up something. 

“Just… don’t fight. Please” you asked, you’d kill yourself if you ever ruined their friendship. “I’m not worth it” you left them behind, going back to your room not wanting to stay there any longer. 

You shared your room with others at the bunker, but you were glad they were all in the gq talking to the ones who arrived from the trenches because it meant you could cry alone without worrying or alarming anyone. You hated to be the center of attention and you hated when people talked about you. 

It had been a while you have been crying, lying almost in a fetal position in your bed when someone opened the door. You held your cries and pretended to be asleep so you could trick the person into leaving. But it didn’t work. 

“I know you’re not sleeping yn. I heard you crying from the door” it was the last person you wanted to see at that moment. Wooyoung sat at your side in the bed and he questioned if he should touch you or not, deciding not to. “I’m here to apologize to you” he sighed and played with his fingers, eyes down with shame. “I didn’t mean to accuse you and San, but I guess I did anyway. I think my mind was clouded with jealousy”. 

You turned around and looked at him, eyes and nose red and puffy from crying. His eyes were still looking at the ground and you could see the pink tint on his cheeks. 

“What were you jealous of?” You asked, still a little overwhelmed by his confession. 

One part of you wanted him to tell you that he was jealous of you because he liked you. But this part was being silenced by the other one saying that you were delusional and thinking about things that did not have a chance of happening. This other part wanted him to say he was jealous of San, that you were stealing him from him and that he was San’s original best friend, that you ruined everything. And you were 100% sure this was the right part. 

You’ve never been good at showing your romantic feelings. With your friends was easy, you were easygoing, and you had no problem being yourself and being touchy and sentimental. However, when it came to romantic feelings you were completely blocked. You were afraid, ashamed almost. You never knew how to act, afraid anything you’d do would throw them away, would repel any types of feeling they had for you. There was this silent pressure that the woman who created you put on you and your siblings, you always had to be perfect in the eyes of possible suitors because the only way to take a step higher in the hierarchy was through marriage. And she always prepared you to be perfectly mannered to these high-class, bougie suitors. 

Wooyoung took a deep breath before finally speaking. 

“Because you are always so close and comfortable around San that I thought… I’m sorry” he looked at you, not really looking at your eyes, ashamed. 

“It’s okay, Woo, you don’t have to apologize, we all have feelings. But don’t worry, I’ll never steal San from you, he’s your best friend for a reason” you forced a smile. 

Wooyoung gave you a half smile, chuckling a little to his feet before turning to you again. His thumb gently wiped the remaining tears on your cheek but never left the touch. You closed your eyes instinctively, enjoying the feeling of calloused hands on you. He sighed once again before speaking. 

“It’s not Sannie that I’m jealous of” you locked eyes with him. What? He left his hand’s place on your cheek to hold your own. “I need to know a thing first” you nodded, enjoying the feeling of his hand in yours. He was holding your hand. If you could, you wouldn’t let it go. “Do you like San?”

“Of course, he’s a great frien-“

“Not as a friend” he cut you. “Do you like him as a lover?” you held your laugh because he could be so stupid sometimes. You denied it with your head. “Good, that’s good to know” he took a deep breath, like he was holding it while you answered. “Do you like someone else? Like… romantically speaking”

“I do but he’s too blind to realize. I’ve been giving hints for quite a while but he never seems to notice” you saw his eyes drop when you said you liked someone else and you swore to god this man was even more idiot than you expected. “Do you like someone?” 

“No. Nope. Not at all. I don’t have feelings” you held your laugh again. 

“Oh, that’s sad because I thought you liked me but I guess it is one-sided then” you said, looking at his face, trying to read his reaction. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s just me t- wait. What?” You laughed at Wooyoung’s reaction. His cheeks bright red with embarrassment, eyes widened looking at you. 

“Gosh, Wooyoung, how can you be so slow?” You decided to take the first step and leaned in, leaving a soft and quick peck on his lips. 

He blinked a few times to regain his consciousness. What was happening? So you did like him? You weren’t dating San? Did you like him all along? And you kissed him? Fuck! You kissed him! 

He finally regained his state of mind and realized what was happening, practically jumping on your lips and kissing you again, dropping you on the bed. You laughed on his lips. That was the man you fell for. 

“I’m sorry for being so blind” he said after kissing you, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s just… you were so close to San and so comfortable with him that I thought you two were flirting” you shook your head no, your hands playing with the little hairs on the nape of his neck, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. 

“Now that you know just don’t waste any more time” he smirked and planted his nose on your neck taking a sniff before looking again at you. 

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t” he kissed you again, pressing you more against the mattress. 

His lips were chapped due to the dryness of the air but you couldn’t care less, to you, they felt like soft cotton balls that were made to mold perfectly to yours. Every time he moved his mouth against yours you could feel electric discharges running through your body. Your veins felt like copper wires that were charged to the max. 

He was holding his weight on one arm while the other held your waist, fingers pressed against your flesh underneath your shirt and holding you in place the best they could, thumb once in a while caressing the skin. One of his knees was between your legs and you could feel the heat emanating from it and you had to hold yourself not to reach down the thigh and rub yourself on it. 

He kept slowly kissing you until his tongue licked your lips asking for passage, which you granted gladly. Your tongues met inside your mouths and started to entangle in each other deliciously, you could taste the faint taste of the bit of alcohol he had prior at the gq with the others. He was intoxicating, your mind clouding more and more every time he would speed up and intensify the kiss and then slow down again. He was teasing you in the most delicious way. And you were enjoying every second. 

Wooyoung left a low groan in your mouth when you bit his lower lip and ran your fingers under his own shirt, leaving a faint red trail from your nails. 

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer if you keep doing this” he confessed, forehead touching yours as he collected his breath again. 

“Who said I want you to hold yourself?” He opened his eyes to stare at you, smirk on his lips as he licked them. 

“Are you sure?” You nodded. “Because once I start I won’t stop”. You pulled him to fall more over your body, weighing you down heavenly. 

“Just fuck me already, Wooyoung”. 

“You don’t have to ask twice” he kissed you again, this time more sloppy, desperate, rushed. He was past tasting you, now he wanted to rile you up. 

He stopped kissing you and got on his knees to take his shirt off, and you did the same. You didn’t know who was most entranced by who’s chest. Your hand was the first to move and touch his chest. He wasn’t very big, more on the lean side, but his muscles were popping from being in the dry air of the desert-like weather of the town. You felt his muscles tense under your touch and you squeezed the hard skin in your fingers, earning a soft hiss of him. 

You pushed him slowly until he was the one laying on the bed, head up so he could look at you. You smirked and straddled his lap, hands still on his chest. You leaned your body and teased your lips on his but never touched, making your way to his neck. You started with soft kisses, barely touching your lips to his skin. Wooyoung was breathing heavily, his hands went straight to your legs, holding and squeezing the flesh underneath the thick fabric of your pants.

You kept with your attack on his neck, changing your soft kisses to butterfly ones, mixing with little licks, your tongue tasting the salty taste of his sweat mixed with the burnt one from the long exposure to the sun. Your hips started moving without you noticing, the need between your legs getting the best of you and seeking at least a tiny bit of release. 

“Yn… fuck! You look so hot like this” he whispered, eyes closed and his own hips seeking for yours. Low groans and moans leaving his lips. 

His reaction made you feel even more bothered but also determined to tease him. So you moved your kisses to his collarbone and the front of his neck. You grabbed his hair and pulled his head slightly back, exposing his throat, veins exposed, the pale skin waiting to be marked. Which you did, painting it shades of purple and blue with your hickeys, teeth grasping along the skin, leaving a red trail behind. 

If it was anyone else tainting him like that he’d be mad, but you had such a strong grip on him and his sanity that he didn’t mind. Quite the contrary, he enjoyed it. He was loving every single second of your teases on him. 

You moved even lower and decided to test the waters on his chest, squeezing slightly his nipple between your index and middle finger when caressing his skin. He just let the cutest and hottest whine when you did so, firing you to keep going. You licked his abs from bottom to top, moving to the side slightly and licking his left nipple on the way. He squirmed underneath you, an almost unintelligible whisper of your name coming from his mouth. 

Wooyoung was lost, he was completely given to you. You owned his pleasure now. He didn’t have the idea that you, just looking absolutely ravishing on top of him, licking his body was enough to make him almost cum on his pants untouched. 

You played with his nipples a little more, licking, pulling and biting, teasing him and making the man under you squirm like he was suffering the worst torture in his life. But soon enough you decided to stop teasing him and left his lap, earning a soft groan of why. You just chuckled at his reaction but didn’t say anything, just proceeding to open his pants and start pulling them down, he raised his hips so you could take his pants and underwear completely.

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t imagined how his cock would look like and to say you were impressed was like saying that 2+2=4. He wasn’t big but he was painfully thick, veins pulsing on his sides, and pre cum leaking from his head. You were 100% sure he was the biggest you’ve been with, the idea of having him stretching you after so long of having nothing but just your fingers made your thighs squeeze in need and your underwear stick to your vulva. 

“You’re so pretty, Woo” you praised him, hands caressing his thighs until they reached the base of cock, his pubic hair gently tickling your fingertips. “Your dick looks so pretty and hard for me” he nodded and whined, elbows holding his upper body so he could look at you. “I bet you taste as good as you look” you smirked at him before giving a kitten lick to his tip, salty precum awakening your taste buds. 

Most people don’t like the taste of it, and you were one of them. But something about being Wooyoung there and the way he was mesmerized by your every move made you want to taste him more and more. The best you could have. 

You decided you were done teasing him - and teasing yourself on the way - and started to put him in your mouth and, as you expected, he was a bit too big for your poor jaw, already getting painful with how wide you had to open to put just a couple of inches inside. Your teeth inevitably grazing over his soft skin and making him hiss. You let you jaw go as slack as you could and started to bob your head, hands squeezing and rubbing as far as they could to help you. Your hands needed to be put together to be able to encircle his shaft. 

Wooyoung would be a liar if he said he didn’t want t go feral and start fucking your face, but he knew he would hurt you. He was sure that if he looked for sin in a dictionary your picture sucking his dick would be under it. You looked so concentrated to make him feel good, eyes dark with pleasure and starting to tear up with the stimulation. 

“Fuck, yn, you look so good like this babe” he took a few strands away from your face and held your hair in a ponytail to help you. “So good for me, making me feel good. I wish you could see yourself like this right now, so hot and needy for my cock” you moaned at his words and started to suck him even harder, trying to put more and more in your mouth. “That’s it, baby, take my cock. Do you like sucking on it?” you nodded, squeezing his base with your hands. “Your own little popsicle, isn’t it?” you nodded again and opened your jaw even more slack, your face starting to hurt but all you wanted was to make him feel good. 

He grabbed your hair and started to move your head for you, gently fucking your face, the pain in your face and scalp so good and taunting.

“Come here, baby. I want to taste you while you take my cock” you looked at him a little confused, brain already foggy with need. “Oh, my baby is already this fucked out? Brain empty?” he took his dick out of your mouth and saliva dripped down your chin. “God, yn! You look even hotter like that. Here, take a seat” he tapped his face and smiled.

You stood up on your feet and took the rest of the clothes that were on your body. Gently you hovered over his face, your cunt dripping from pent-up arousal and your scent invading his senses. Wooyoung was intoxicated and he hadn’t even tasted you yet. He grabbed your hips and pulled you right on top of his face, a surprised yelp leaving your lips when you felt his warm tongue against your folds for the first time. 

You couldn’t even think straight, he dove right in, licking, sucking, biting, blowing on your vulva. Your clit being the main attraction. You unconsciously started to ride his face, wanting to feel more and more. You teased him for so long that you got so bothered that just a little eating and you were on the edge already, the knot in your belly incredibly tight. 

Your pleasure getting the best of you and you fell forward, weak. You saw his dick in front of you again and remembered that he wanted you to suck him off too. You put his dick back in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in and earning a moan against your pussy from Wooyoung. 

You gave your best to suck him, but you were a moaning and babbling mess, drooling all over his dick and riding his face reaching for your orgasm. It was when he gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit and introduced two fingers inside your hole that you came undone for the first time. His penis almost blocking your moans as you cockwarmed him inside your mouth.

“There we go, baby. You did so good. Are you tired?” he asked muffled by your pussy and you hummed. “Then I’ll let you lay down, you were so good for me so far, now it’s my turn to take care of you” you took him out your mouth with a pop and laid on the bed, chest rising and falling from the amount of exertion you had made. “Can you keep going? Or should we stop?” You denied it and tried to grab him, making grabby hands, which made him chuckle. “How can you be cute in a moment like this?”

“I’m not” you managed to answer, smiling at him. 

“If you keep looking this cute I’ll lose my cool” 

“You already lost when I licked your nipples” you smirked at him.

“Only because it’s you” he positioned between your legs and leaned to kiss you. You hugged him tight and kissed him back, mixing your own tastes inside your mouths, tongues tying. You two kissed for a while before he spoke again. “Are you sure you can keep going? I don’t want to hurt you, I didn’t prep you”

“I’ll be fine, just please stop talking and fuck me” 

“You’re so hot when you’re in charge” he gave you a peck and started to slowly slide inside of you. You moaned against his mouth when you felt the first sting of stretching. It burned. “Tell me if it’s too much or if you want me to stop” you nodded and he stopped for a while.

He analyzed your facial expressions and your reactions, trying to see when he could move again. When he felt your breathing slowing down he moved a little more, penetrating a few more centimeters inside. Your mouth opened but no sound came out. Your insides burned but it wasn’t bad. It was just new. 

The idea that you were finally with Wooyoung in such an intimate moment like this made your head spin and ease the pain. It was him. The man you’ve been dreaming about for so long. The constant protagonist of the softest and dirtiest of your dreams was finally on top of you, inside of you. His eyes never leaving yours or your face and that made you feel even more wanted. Desired. 

You pulled his face back to yours and kissed him again, gentle, deep. You wanted to make sure this was not another one of your dreams. Thankfully it was not. So you decided to be bold, you wanted him to take you fully and you wanted to do the same with him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed his hips against yours, making him bottom out inside of you. The moan that left his lips was the hottest thing you heard all night. In your entire life, really.  The pain of being stretched almost to your limit was nothing compared to how fast your heart was beating, syncing with his own. 

You gave him a nod, a green light to make him move. He started slow, not taking too much out, letting you get used to the size and the movement. He was being careful and taking your pleasure as his first priority because you had no idea how hard he was holding himself. Your walls were soft, warm, wet, tight. You hugged his member viciously and he was so close to cum with just the pressure and pulsing around him. 

Wooyoung slowly started to take more and more out until he let only his head inside before bottoming out again. Your moans started to get whinier and whinier, your hips moving with his, the burn long gone and replaced with a different one. One from pleasure. He started to speed up his movements and he could feel your finger nails clawing at his back.

“Are you close?” he whispered against your ear and you nodded. “Good, because I am too and I want you to cum first. Can you do that?” you nodded, not really knowing if you could but you just wanted to give your best to him. 

He backed away from you a little, just enough to have one of his hands between your bodies and rubbing your clit. You threw your head back and arched your back with the sensation, feeling almost overstimulated. Your arms fell limp on the bed, too weak to hold on to him, but strong enough to hold the thick sheets between your fingers. 

Wooyoung kept his skillful ministrations on you and soon enough you exploded without even having time to warn him, creaming his cock with your juices. He leaned down to kiss you and whisper praises to you but you barely registered, head completely empty. He had fucked you dumb.

It didn’t take much more for him to cum, taking his member from inside of you and cumming on your pubes and belly, falling exhausted on your side. A stupid smile planted on his lips as his brain processed everything that just happened. He turned his head to look at you and you were looking at him already.

“What are you smiling at?” you asked, even completely gone by the pleasure you still had energy enough to provoke him.

“Nothing, just the love of my life” you booed him and turned to the other side.

“God, you’re so cheesy” you said but still smiled anyway, you loved his silly self. He cuddled you, nuzzling his nose on your neck and taking in your post-sex scent. 

“But you still like me like that”

“That’s exactly why I like you” you turned to face him, his arms never leaving your body. “We need to clean, I’m all sticky with your cum and sweat” you put your tongue out in disgust.

“Wait here” he left the bed, only caring to dress his underwear before leaving the room to go to the bathroom and grab a towel. 

He was almost successfully coming back to the room without meeting anyone but he was faced with a wall of your friends, arms crossed and smug smiles on their faces.

“We’re are going to let today slide but tomorrow we will annoy the hell out of you two” San was the one to speak before letting Wooyoung run back to the room and closing the door.

“They won’t let us be from now on” he spoke before he heard you laugh nervously.

There wasn't much you two could do but accept the fate of being joked on by your friends. But that was okay because now you had each other and that was all the good that mattered amidst the mess of the world. 

Masterlist | Requests and feedback

[kylelovskii]

Hey! So lately I've been thinking about Kyle x (fem) reader who is like really abusive but it's because her drinking problem and all her unhealthy relationships she's been in which Kyle finds out moments before he was about to break up with her because of her abusive behaviour and instead of breaking up he decided to try to help her somehow.

(Aged up ofc) A little fucked up idea but if you feel comfortable with writing something like that I would be grateful!

girl i was made for this don’t even worry 😭😭

this is so good i love it

thank you for requesting!

yes the title is the title of a smiths song 😒🤚

TW GUYSS!! abuse, slapping, alcohol abuse, yelling, arguing, humongous toxic relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of drug abuse

this night has opened my eyes

kyle could only imagine what awaited him when he opened the front door of your shared home. would you be drinking? would you just be angry no matter what? or would today be a good day and this break up'll go a bit smoother than planned?

hint: it’s not the last two.

before kyle could even put his hand on the door knob, he heard your loud voice erupt from the other side.

"quit fucking contacting me! i will never ever be with you ever again!"

maybe if he was quiet he could sneak past you. he slowly turned the door knob and stepped inside the house.

there you were, shaking a beer bottle near the phone to emphasize to the person on the other end how bad you’ve turned out. "you hear that?" you asked. "that’s fucking beer. i’ve turned into you now. and you wanna know who has to endure it? kyle! big fucking whoop."

kyle didn’t want to move. you were drunk off your ass, you’d definitely see him sneak by. out of being scared and all, he couldn’t help but wonder who you were talking to, but he didn’t have to wonder for much longer.

"you’ve turned me into this, stan. i don’t know why the hell you’re crying."

when kyle heard his best friends name, he squeaked, causing you to be alert and turn around. you stared at him and said, "stan, don’t ever call me again. bye." you hung up the phone and threw it on the couch.

beer sloshing all around in the bottle, you stormed over to kyle and grabbed him by his curly, red hair. "what the fuck are you doing, you little eavesdropper!?" you shouted, dragging him to the middle of the living room and throwing him down on the floor. "n—nothing! i wasn’t eavesdropping! i just got home, i swear!" as kyle laid on the floor, he put his hands up in defense. nothing had to be said, everything about him was already begging for mercy.

"you swear, huh?" you took a swig of beer. "if you swear, then why the hell were you still there when i looked!?" you screamed, slapping him on the 'hell' part of your sentence. he cried and put his hands over his face, trying to prevent you from striking his freckled face again. his glasses were scattered across the floor from how hard you hit him, and his cheek was starting to turn a peachy pink.

"i was scared to move! please, i won’t do it again!"

guess there would be no break up tonight. just a good beating and make up sex probably.

"yeah, yeah. i won’t do it again! i promise, i didn’t mean to! i was scared! that’s all i hear from you, wimp! you’re like a little girl. why can’t you act like a man and take a few punches, huh? why are you crying? why are you shaking like a damn leaf? nothin' to be scared of. im just g'nna hit ya a few times, teach you a lesson." your words were starting slur, yet you sounded more intimidating by the second. "you have to realize i will never take it easy on you. you have to realize i will only get worse until someone fixes me. until you realize that, you are useless. you are just another doll to punch."

kyle’s hands moved away from his face, hot tears staining his perfect cheeks. his breath was shaky along with his whole body. he always thought, deep deep down, you loved him, that he was the man you were gonna marry. he was wrong of course, but maybe there was still a possibility.

maybe that’s why he said, "but, (y/n), i love you."

that stunned you. your beer bottle dropped to the plush carpet, the intoxicating liquid seeping into the brown softness. your mouth formed a small 'o', and a single tear fell from your eye onto kyle’s face.

"you..you what?"

"i love you. i do. i’ll fix you. i will help you."

"no…no you won’t. you’re just too scared t'leave."

"no, i want to help you. i understand now. you’re not like this just for kicks. you’re just sick and in need of a cure, and i’m that cure."

"quit fuckin' talking like that!" you rose up your hand and struck kyle again. kyle let out a cry and screamed for you to stop. he was telling the truth, he wanted to help you. a break up would do no good for you. you would just go repeat this cycle with someone else.

kyle grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pulled your face closer to his tear stained one. "i want to help you," he firmly said, his voice strained and high pitched from all the crying. your tears kept coming just like his, but you ignored them.

you yanked yourself from his grasp, getting off the floor and standing up straight. "get up," you told kyle and he scrambled to his feet. "please, (y/n)." kyle took your hand in his, pulling you back to him. you looked delirious. the under of your eyes purple, a bruise here and there from kyle trying to defend himself almost every night, your eyes red from crying, and your breath disgusting from all the booze you’ve downed today.

you just stared at him, your eyes going soft and half lidded. kyle slid a hand up to hold your face. he pecked your lips, the taste nauseating him, but he loved you nonetheless.

"you, uh, never told me your relationship with stan was bad like that," he said, giving you a sympathetic look. you sighed and shook your head. "he drank. a lot, as you may know, and he hurt me. mentally and physically. one thing led to another, i started drinkin' too. one day i came home, he tried to start somethin', and i beat the living shit out of him," you explained, but that wasn’t it.

"after stan was kenny, and he was on drugs. he drank a little too, but not as bad as me. he beat me, i beat him, then i ran away and went to cartman. i think cartman was the worst. with him, i could never fight back, so i just sat around, a fuckin' alcoholic with cuts and bruises all over me. i tried to break things off with him tons of times, but then he’d just beat me and then fuck me as an apology. i liked the sex, so that became a habit of mine with you." you sighed and cupped kyle’s face. "but you— you were different. you didn’t try to hurt me. but out of habit, i hurt you."

kyle just looked at you in shock. he never knew any of his friends were huge pieces of shit like that. except for cartman. kyle knew stan drank, but he didn’t know he beat his girlfriend. and he had no idea kenny was addicted to drugs.

but he understood now, you weren’t just mad for no reason with a hatred for the world. you were hurting, and you were being the only way you knew how to be.

kyle looked i to your eyes and saw something switch. you pushed him away and sank to your knees, sobbing. "kyle, just go! you feel sorry because i’m just another poor girl. you just want to help me because you’re sorry, not because you love me," you choked out. kyle sank to his knees in front of you. "no, i want to help you. i love you, i do. we’ll find you a good therapist. we’ll throw out all the beer. we can go to counseling. maybe get you into anger management or something. i will fix you. i’ll do whatever it takes."

you looked up at him, face drenched in tears. he was putting on his glasses back on and wiping all his tears away. "kyle, do you know how much money that’ll be?" you sobbed. this was no use. he couldn’t help you.

"we have the money. i promise. i’ll find you someone, and i’ll find someone for us. we’ll get you a new phone number so stan’ll stop calling you. i promise, you will get better, and i will be there every step of the way," kyle reassured and put his hands on your shoulders, giving them a good squeeze. "i know i keep telling you, but i love you. i—i wanna marry you."

"kyle, i just slapped you twice, and you wanna marry me?"

"yes i do," he chuckled. "please, just say it back. i love you."

you sighed, smiled, and shook your head. "i love you too, kyle. maybe if your plan is successful, we’ll have a white picket fence too." you laughed, looking at kyle, your tears drying. kyle laughed too and kissed you. it felt like love. it sounds weird, but to the both of you, it was the best way to describe it.

kyle stood up and stretched his hand out to you. "let’s clean you up and get this beer off the floor. you look like you haven’t slept in weeks," kyle said, putting an arm around you and leading you to the bathroom.

after cleaning you up and the mess on the living room, you looked like the pretty girl kyle remembered falling in love with.

"ky, can we please go t'bed. i’m tired as shit," you slurred, stumbling around in his arms. kyle swooped you up bridal style and took you to your shared bedroom. he gently laid you down in bed, then crawled in beside you.

as you drifted off, you quietly said, "kyle i’m s'sorry for the way i’ve treated you..please fix me."

kyle could only smile and kiss your head as you finally got some good rest.

[applejuicefruit]

I love the way you write it's AMAZING! For real though right now my comfort fics are written by you, I hope you realize how appreciated you are <33

I also noticed that requests are open. Can I request an erling haaland angst? Smth like he loves reader but she's with someone else and he cannot stand it? You can do some jealousy and a happy ending your choice ♡♡

sorry for the happy ending part because this is pure angst 😩😩

also recommending this song !

erling haaland x reader

Promise you’ll lie

promise you’ll lie

promise you’ll lie

everything that erling dreamt about was having you by his side. not that you weren’t by his side, you were like brother and sister but he wanted more.

he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, he wanted to make love to you while the sun was shining outside, he wanted to hold you when you had a bad day and he wanted to surprise you or spoil you with random gifts but he knew he couldn’t have it.

you had sleepovers every weekend, it was something that started when you were kids and even if you got older that’s something that never left your weekly list.

but for him, it wasn’t the same having sleepovers with you and sleeping with you. he loved you and you had no idea.

when you were younger you got a crush for erling, more than a crush. but you were young, barely sixteen and you had no idea what love meant.

you knew you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, he never looked at you in that way. but you stayed closed to him and supported him in every way you could. you never missed his games or his interviews or his parties, you were always there for him.

as you got older you tried to find love somewhere else and even if it got a little harder, one day you met someone who really showed you what love meant.

he was kind and patient with you, taking things slow, showing you love and respect and now, two years later you were engaged. you were the happiest woman on earth and you thought that erling was happy for you too but since the engagement announcement he started avoiding you, saying he had things to do with football or sponsors and you got tired of his childish behaviour so one day you decided to confront him about it.

you were currently in his apartment, asking him for an explanation but he looked anything but happy to see you.

“erling, you’re my best friend…i truly don’t get it” you told him.

“i know!” he shouted back.

“why are you mad at me? what have i done to you?” you asked him, on the verge of crying because in all of your years of friendship you never fought this bad.

“i’m not mad at you y/n, i’m mad at me!”

“what? erling please…what is going on?” you asked him again.

“i’m mad at me because in all of these years i never had the courage to tell you how much i love you! i love you y/n and i’m such an idiot for telling you this right after your engagement because i can see how happy you are with him and how much he loves you” it was erling the one who was crying now.

“you love me?” you whispered.

“i do, i love you so much…i want to be the man you wake up next to in the morning, i want to be the man who hold you when you cry or when you have a bad day and i want to be the one who dry your tears…i want to make love to you and show you how much you mean to me…but i know i can’t have that” he said trying to avoid his look because you were speechless.

“i know this is a lot to take in…you just needed to know…” he whispered.

i know i can’t help if you meet someone else

“erling i…” you whispered, no idea of what you were going to say.

“i know i just fucked up our friendship but you deserved to know it…”

“no, you didn’t fucked up our friendship because i can’t imagine a life where you are not here with me…these days without hearing a word from you were the hardest…i need you in my life erling, but not in the way you want me to, i’m sorry…” you apologised knowing you just broke his heart.

“i know…” he was hurting “i know…it will be hard but i’ll always be by your side y/n…you’re still my best friend after all” he wanted to call you love and not best friend but if he had to choose between having you as a friend or not having you at all he chose to have you as a friend because he couldn’t live a life where you weren’t there. 

“okay…i’ll see you tomorrow then? for our brunch?” you asked him, trying to make everything normal again.

“sure” he smiled even if all he wanted to do was crying and screaming.

with those words you left his apartment with heavy heart. 

did you made the right decision? 

what if you were going to regret your wedding? 

no, you loved your boyfriend, you wouldn’t choose it in any other way. 

you can tell him that you love him as long as it’s a lie.

promise you’ll lie, promise you’ll lie.

[onewmin]

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 6 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, Smut (minors dni), it’s not specified but the seggs is protected, a lot of kissing, oral (f. receiving), profanity, angst, a brief mention of self-harm, the reader and everybody else is mentally unstable (who isn’t right), mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of smoking, Lee Know flirts with a girl, another shitty cliffhanger in the end, typos

Author’s note: originally, this part was planned to be longer and cover the period after the ending, but I felt like it would’ve been too much. It’s not as long as I wanted it to be and maybe not that heartbreaking, but the pain still awaits you later hehe hope you enjoy the chapter!! Let me know what you think!!

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 5 | Part 7

Despite Chan’s constant doubts and destructive thoughts about you still being in love with Yugyeom, that was far from the truth.

Yugyeom was a lingering memory, a bright sun ray that shone to you many years ago. Now he was just there, in the past, while Chan himself had occupied the pedestal inside your heart.

However, you really wanted him to fall down from it this time.

It’d been three weeks since he pushed you off the cliff of love and hope, leaving you to an inevitable, gruesome fall. You fell down from the highest peak into the lowest pit, and there was nothing. Just darkness and loneliness. Although the latter was not for long.

A couple of days after Chris broke up with you, Minho showed up at your door, bottles of beer in his backpack. You got drunk while watching another stupid reality show and ended up crying on the floor, the two of you sobbing in unison.

“He said to me”, Lee Know hiccuped, wiping the tears from his cheeks, “he said, ‘You’re an asshole, Minho’”, his imitation of Chan’s voice was so on spot, you let out a half-laugh through your tears.

“I’m an asshole? For putting up with his terrible dancing and constant nagging that his feet hurt?” Minho was hitting his chest with the fist, the two of you now sitting on the couch. “For sticking with him when his first album flopped? For investing my time, my life in his fucking career?”

You were nodding frantically, chewing the chips, the cheese taste mixing up with salty aftermath of the tears, streaming down your face.

“Never have I ever been an ass to him! Ever!” The tone of his voice rose, cracking when he started sobbing again. “And now he basically fires me! Me! His best friend!”

“No fucking reason”, Minho was lying on the floor again, with you sitting next to him. “Just this sudden bullshit. Why would he do this to me? To you? To us?”

You shrugged your shoulders, taking another sip of beer from another bottle. Was it your third? Fourth one?

“I can’t understand what’s inside his head”, he sighed. “Is it the concussion speaking for him or was he like that the entire time?”

You took a deep breath and exhaled in response. Weeks spent crying and drinking with Minho at both yours and his places, talking shit about Chan and how unfairly he treated the both of you. And neither you, nor Minho had come to any sort of common conclusion. He stood his ground, stomping his feet drunkenly, his words slurring, saying Chris might’ve hit his head so bad that all of the common sense flew out of the window.

You noticed a slightly hilarious pattern: Minho was ready to come up with any bizarre theory in order to excuse Chan’s behaviour. He pushed the both of you away because of the concussion, Lee Know was confident that was the truth. You, however, couldn’t agree with him.

The more you drank after work, the more you threw up afterwards, sitting on the dirty tile floor of whatever bar you were in, the less you could excuse Chris. Sure, he suffered from the aftermath of the accident, this you could understand. But his sudden change of demeanor? Beyond your comprehension. No therapist in the world could’ve explained this to you. Yours included.

“Don’t you think this is a sign you’ve been waiting for? The sign to leave this guy and move on with you life?”

Ah, crap. Could this woman not memorize everything you say? “I don’t think so”.

“Why’s that?”

“Because, I think, he’s just hurt. And he’s trying to push everyone away so that… So that we don’t see him… like this”.

Oh wait, was it your savior complex hitting up again? How mysteriously hurt poor Chan must have been! Pushed everyone away, humiliated his best friends in their own eyes, and told you he lost interest the second his love stopped being unrequited! Poor Chan! How must he suffer!

Oh yeah, he must. Sitting at another bar, Minho’s drunken ranting as the background music, you wished with all your heart Chan was suffering. He put you through so much, making you love him, care for him, and then he made you hate him. To be honest, though, “hate” was a strong word to use; hating him was still impossible. You despised the man he turned out to be, even if he lied to you about ‘falling out of love’ for some reason.

“What fuckin’ reason there has to be to say that shit? What’s the fuckin’ fuck?”

The look on your therapist’s face gave away her genuine surprise at your sudden loss of composure. In over than two years of therapy, you had never even cried during sessions. You’d curse, get slightly angry, but never too emotional. You called this an ‘emotional constipation’, just to make your therapist crack a smile. A clown is always a clown, you’d say, taking pride in getting her to laugh. Although the fun would always wash away when she immediately started writing stuff down.

“Go on”.

Two simple words would bring you to the literal edge of glory: you jumped from your seat, aggressively walking from one corner of the room to another, curse words spilling from your mouth; also, of course, you blamed god for everything — if you could, you’d include your religious trauma in every conversation possible.

“If God was real”, you’d keep on, “would he ever allow Chan in my life? Would he ever let that happen?”

“Did God choose to be in a relationship with Chan, or was it you?”

How dare she? “How dare you?” You stood up, snatching your bag from the floor. “Am I the bad guy here?”

“No”, she said softly, not even moving a muscle during your tantrum, “you’re not, but you desperately want someone to be the bad guy. You cannot paint Chan as a villain because you love him”, you huffed at her words, “but you don’t love the God. So in this case, the latter has to be the bad guy. Correct me, if I’m wrong”.

She was not indeed wrong. But you were resisting therapy: if not, you’d have to face the truth — there were no bad guys. Everyone was just human, making human mistakes. The ones you’d been constantly making while choosing to stay in this relationship with Chan over and over again.

Like him fixing your dinner three months in a row after he came back from tour. Or him helping you take showers when your leg was broken. Or taking care of your cat when you went to see your parents.

He was doing basic shit! Basic shit every decent human being would do when their close friend needed that! Although it’s pretty hard not to praise men when they do the bare minimum, right? ‘Cause it’s so rare. Rare for you specifically, as every man in your life — apart from Yugyeom and Chan — was a self-centered piece of garbage.

And you could take Yugyeom for granted, as he wanted you to have it that way, because he saw the way your father treated your mother — “You’ve got to have an example of a healthy relationship. And I will give it to you”.

Why did he leave then? Why did you leave and led me to keep on falling for the mere shadows of you, Yugyeom?

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thought. Lately you’d been remembering a lot of things about Yugyeom — probably because you met him all those weeks ago. The most disturbing thought? Oh, it wasn’t that good. It was horrible, so horrible that you had to physically distract yourself.

“Why did you order more drinks?” You looked at Minho, who leaned back in his seat, eyes wandering around the bar room. “Earth to Minho”, you waved your hand in front of his face, while he was staring through you. “I’ll cancel it”.

“No!” Your eyebrows raised in question, as he jumped up from his seat. “This bottle will be the last one, I swear”. Minho grabbed your hands in his, silently begging to let him have the last drink. However, you were not going to indulge in; you found yourself getting accustomed to drinking, to drowning your sorrows in the alcohol. You were tired of it.

You were never the type to get addicted to some bad habits: smoking never stuck to you; you did smoke for a couple of months after your breakup with Yugyeom and you did it occasionally during your latest relationship, but it was never something you couldn’t live without. Drinking, on the other hand, could become addictive if you just didn’t quit it.

How easy it was, to sit around the table with your friend, sipping on alcohol, empty bottles creating a circle on the surface. Eventually you’d run out of space, and that was the reason to pay and leave. Same thing happened to you several years ago, when Yugyeom and you put an end to your relationship; Chan had to drag you from bars and hide alcohol from you so that you wouldn’t have drown in pain. Yeah, you couldn’t get an addiction, as you thought. But you were becoming quite a regular at a broken hearted people pub.

Amidst your verbal fight with Minho, whose retorts consisted of non-comprehensive drunken blabbering, his hands gripping the beer bottle while you were trying to tear it away, you heard a familiar voice behind you. As happy as you were to hear her, the sound of her high-pitched, usually matter-of-fact voice somehow brought chills down your spine.

“That’s enough”, Eunjoo moved you to the side, the grip of her hand on your shoulder making you squeeze your eyes shot. Has she been working out? “Give me that”, she took the bottle from Minho’s hands with almost no effort, as he seemed to oblige to her mere presence. His eyes followed Eunjoo, when she put the money on the table, her fingers tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. You might have been tipsy, however, the way Minho stared at your best friend couldn’t escape from your attention.

“What’re you doin’ here?” You frowned at her, while Eunjoo observed Minho. Oh right, it was the first time you old best friend and your new bestie met; before that you had no idea whatsoever, but now you thought that they kind of had the same vibe to their personalities.

“Came to collect you”, she replied. What? First she uses a contraction, and now she starts a sentence without the subject in it? Is it really Eunjoo?

“To be honest”, she continued, “I’m really tired of your regular hangovers. Especially I’m tired of your absolutely fucked out look at our job. Where you need to work, and not nap every two hours”. What the literal fuck? Did Eunjoo just curse? Wha-a-at? “I wonder, why you’re still not fired. Oh wait”, she pointed a finger in your direction, “it’s because I’ve been covering for you”.

You sighed. Knowing that it wasn’t the best thing you’d done, you felt the wave of embarrassment rush through your body. Eunjoo had to cover your hangover in front of the boss, and you were forever grateful. If only you had actually thanked her for that.

“Anyways, I’m here to take you home”, this time, her touch on your shoulder was gentle. “And this… friend of yours, too”.

“I’m Minho”. He suddenly appeared in front of Eunjoo, almost pushing you away. You grimaced at his awkward attempt to get her attention.

Eunjoo nodded in response to his words; she didn’t look as if he’d interested her in any way. Hopefully, he won’t, you thought, fastening the seatbelt on the passenger seat of her car, Minho might be a good friend, but his dating history is pretty ugly.

Oh yeah? And Chan’s dating history is all about rainbows and flowers? Isn’t he the one to toss girls away when they reciprocate the love?

You let out a deep sigh, Minho’s drunken flirting with Eunjoo serving as a background for your thoughts. With all the love you had for Chris, either as his friend or failed lover, it was impossible to wrap your head around the bullshit he told you. You wished you could talk it out, spill your secrets and unsaid words, but he didn’t want to. He went radio silence for weeks without any warning, so he wasn’t interested anymore, right?

It isn’t like you could text him, yeah? It isn’t like a dialogue requires two people for it to happen, is it?

After dropping off Minho at his place — and his unsuccessful attempts to get Eunjoo number — she drove you to your apartment. The ride was accompanied by a midnight radio program with the very familiar host to the both of you.

“How’s Youngjae doing?”

“Fine. As far as you can hear, he enjoys his job very much”. Ouch. Your attempt to break the silence was a failure.

“Eunjoo-“

“Shut up”, she hit the brakes at the red light, her sharp knife voice cutting through you. “I get it, okay? You’re going through a tough time”. Youngjae’s contagious laugh filled the car, but this time, none of you smiled. “But you’ve got to move on too. If you keep on drinking, you’ll lose your job. And what are you going to do, huh? Is this Minho going to give you money? Or, d’you think Chan will do it?”

You shook your head, eyes squeezed shut, head low. Felt as if your mother had been scolding you. Only Eunjoo knew you better than your mom did, and Eunjoo was actually sincere and worried about you. She was your best and only real friend, after all.

“You’re smart”, she took a turn to your apartment complex, “smarter than all of those guys. Smarter than Chan”. The car stopped at the parking lot, both of you sat in silence for a moment.

“Don’t waste your life on chasing someone who doesn’t want you”, she covered your hands with hers. “Don’t drink your life away because he decided you weren’t good for him. You might be not enough for this asshole, but you’re certainly enough for everyone else, for me, for yourself. He’s not worth your suffering”.

Your eyes welled up at the words. Pulling her in for a hug, you had to blink rapidly to avoid another crying session.

“Thank you, Eunjoo. Thank you for everything you do for me”.

She hugged you tighter. “You’re always welcome. I know how hard it is for you to say this, and I’m thankful, too”.

“You may take all of the time in the world to overcome this pain”, the two of you were face-to-face again, “you shouldn’t bottle your emotions up. Just… Just talk to me instead of drinking, okay?”

You nodded, a smile creeping up on your lips. Eunjoo’s cousin laughed again, his radio program turned into another comedy show, and the two of you giggled at him. Never in your many failed friendships and toxic friends would you think a girl with a rigorous attitude with whom you had to share the same space at work, could be your closest friend.

Your cat greeted you with serious complaints and loud purrs, obviously demanding food and attention. Several minutes passed before you took your clothes off and stepped into the shower.

Chan used to say that showering together would help saving water, and you always chuckled at his proposals. It’s not like you ever rejected his shenanigans; you didn’t indulge in shower sex, but being naked with him under the water was another intimate moment to cherish.

You hated how everything was about him. Every surface of your flat was interwoven with the memory of him, his fingers squeezing your hips, lips brushing over yours, head in the crook of your neck. He was with you in the shower; he was cooking in your kitchen; he was sprawled on your couch, watching another episode of that dating reality show; he was snoring in your bed, his legs atop of yours. There wasn’t a single place in this apartment that he hadn’t graced with his touch. And you despised yourself for still craving his presence, even after all the pain he caused you.

Brushing your teeth, your brain visualized Chan behind you, a toothbrush in his hand, the other wrapped around your waist. Every little action of his was engraved in your head, not letting your breathe even for a second. How were you supposed to move on when the only thing you see was Chan?

“Do you want to move on?” Your therapist asked you.

“I don’t know”.

“Let’s put it into a different perspective. During your last conversation, he stated he’s been in love with you. Correct?”

“Yes”.

“He also said he liked the process of ‘chasing’ his potential partners. Correct?”

“Yes”.

“And he added that whenever someone reciprocated, he’d lose interest. That includes you. Correct?”

“Uh, yes”.

“After all of the above-mentioned, do you still believe he’s in love with you?”

“Yeah”, you breathed out, the voice of yours being unsteady. “I guess”.

“Why?”

“Because… Because”, you almost choked on your words, “he couldn’t fall out of love with me just suddenly. He couldn’t”.

Coming back to that conversation over and over again, you sat on the floor in your living room, tears falling down your cheeks. Was he ever truly in love with you, or was it another projection of yours? And if he was, how could he be so cruel?

A phone call distracted you from yet another sobbing section of your ‘pining over Chris’ daily program. Of course, only Han Jisung would call you at 1 A.M.

“Sorry for the late night call”, he said after countless apologies, “I just thought I should tell one of you”.

“Tell us what?”

“He’s insufferable”, Han whined, “I dunno what to do to bring him back to his normal self. He’s sulking, keeps being silent and just-“ You heard him sigh. “He’s constantly in his bed. Either sleeping or napping. Or he just lies there, watching the ceiling”.

You kept quiet for a swift moment only. “What d’you want me to do? Call his therapist or something”.

Jisung let out a nervous laughter. “Yeah, like his parents haven’t tried that already. He doesn’t speak to therapists”. Han’s heavy breathing signaled at him being on the verge of crying. Shit, Chan had fucked everyone over.

“He falls asleep quite often”, Jisung continued. “And he sleeptalks, y’know that. And when he does that, he only says your name”.

No. Ah-uh. No. Just no. Why would Han say that?

“So please, if you can, just come and see him. You want him to get better too. I know that”.

Your phone was on the floor next to you, as you scratched you nose to avoid crying. But your lip began to tremble, tears collecting in the eyelashes and everything turned into a blur — there were just your tears, and your wails muffled as you hugged your knees tightly. You used to get noise complaints for your loud moans of pleasure; however, now you’d get some more complaints for your almost-howls and incredibly hurtful sobs. Your chest was aching from the heavy breathing mixed with cries, and your jaw was in pain from open-mouthed inhaling and exhaling. That was a breakdown, such an extreme and terrible one that you couldn’t even see anything because of the amount of tears collected on your eyelashes.

If he was so hurt, why, why would he bring you so much pain? If he was so pathetic afterwards, why break up with you in the first place? Why? Why? Why?

Because he’s an asshole, your inner voice interfered, and because he doesn’t know how to express basic human emotions. You did your best for him, tried your hardest to overcome the most difficult thing — inability to express your emotions. You were there, on your knees in front of him in that hospital room, begging him to love you. Begging him to give the two of you a chance. But he rejected you back then. And now, what? He was mournful? Pining over you?

Ah-uh. He lost the right to it the second he shitted in your ears with that ‘the thrill expired’ bullcrap. He should’ve had a normal fucking conversation with you, talking about his feeling, working it out. But no, this asshole decided to leave you with a plate of shit and run away from human communication just to, what seemed like, die in complete loneliness. The loneliness he created himself. It was nobody’s fault but his.

“I hope he feels what I felt”, you mumbled while washing your face in the bathroom. It was still puffy, under eyes and lips red from all the crying you did; you cursed Han and his damn phone call. Why was he such a good friend? Oh yeah, probably because Chan hadn’t been a fucking butthead to him. Smart choice; otherwise, Mr. Bang would have no more friends left in his life.

You wouldn’t go and see him, right? “Right, of course I wouldn’t”, you stated out loud when raiding your closet in search of that lingerie set Chris loved. Just in case, you kept on telling yourself, I’m looking for it just in case.

You sat on the bed, wearing the said bra and panties, facing the mirror. Disheveled hair, a puffy face, your neck and chest red from all the nervous scratching you did in the last few minutes. It wasn’t like you were going to actually see him, right? And, what’s more important, you weren’t going to let him touch you again, were you?

“I’m not”, you were, as always when alone, talking to yourself; now, as you ran from the bedroom to the living room, dressing up, brushing your hair, you abruptly stopped mid your shenanigans.

Right in front of you, in your bedroom, on that bookshelf with all the books you’d bought but never read, was that damned perfume. Gently kept in between the books, so that your cat wouldn’t throw it on the floor, that perfume bottle was the most vivid proof of your and Chan’s relationship. The only thing, besides photos and gifts, that could transcend you to every moment spent with him. You hated this fucking perfume.

Spraying some on your skin, just on the back of your neck and your wrists, you put it in the bag. You petted your cat, promising you’d come back just in a couple hours, and then the lights in your apartment went off, keys turning in the door.

What the hell were you doing? One call from Jisung, swearing Chris was suffering without you, and? You were wearing that lacy lingerie under your clothes, clean-fucking-shaved, smelling like his favourite perfume, riding in the cab? That’s how easy it was?

You shook your head, disagreeing with your own thoughts. You were desperate to feel him again, to wrap your hands around him, to kiss his plushy lips, to run your hands through his hair. You needed that more than air, but you also couldn’t keep this up just in the name of love.

He was your temple, taking up all of the space in your life. Everything was about Chan, every day of yours accompanied by the presence of him. In those several months of being with him, you found yourself behind the closed doors; you locked them with your own hands. Cancelling plans just in case Chan called? Done. Not communicating with some of your old friends just because they didn’t like Chris? Do-o-ne. You practically had no hobbies by now, because your only hobby had been Chris, and how to keep him interested, and how to make him laugh, and how to make him fall in love with you.

How unhealthy was that?

So now you were going to end it. For good. You were ready to take the last leap and jump, just to get it over with. ‘Cause no matter how much you loved him, you were exhausted. And no amount of love could outweigh the tiredness this relationship had brought you.

And you were there. Staring at Chan, who was wearing his gray pajama pants and nothing more, dumbfounded look on his face. You couldn’t but notice a slight bulge, and you swallowed, images of him floating around your mind.

He let you in, still not a word said. You put the bag on the drawer, quickly putting the perfume bottle on it. You’d leave it here; if he was so desperate to see you, next time he could just spray some perfume around to pretended you were there. You were going to leave this perfume to him, because to you, it was too hurtful to even look at.

You turned around to face him. In the dim light of his apartment, Chan looked pathetically beautiful, as if he’d been a God, sent to Earth just to become your fatal personal tragedy.

One step further. You were right in front of him, hands carefully cupping his cheeks. He watched you with caution, as if you’d been a hallucination, destined to turn into air the moment he dared to touch you.

Today would be the last time he ever lands his hands on your body. The last time you ever let him this close.

No words exchanged between the two of you, when he leaned in, his lips lingering over yours, just slightly touching. Your eyes darted from his lips to his eyes, and there it was. With that simple look, he squeezed your waist and pounced on your lips. You dived in, letting his tongue meet yours in a passionate, i-missed-you-so-much dance. You kissed and kissed, and the only thing you could taste on his lips was betrayal. Because no matter what he was doing now, the memory of him torturing you with his words would forever be engraved in your mind.

When you finally broke the kiss, he was looking at you with a wide smile on his face. Oh, darling Chris, you thought, insinuating yet another heavy kiss, this is not a make up type of situation. You’re getting dumped tonight.

Your back was against the wall, his hands under your shirt, dancing on your bare skin, but not touching where you needed him. Between lips nibbling, him trailing kisses down your chin, teeth grazing down your neck, you could feel the pool of arousal in your panties. Chris could feel it too.

Now your back was against the mattress, his silky sheets welcoming you back in their embrace. Chan was hovering over you, looking you deep in the eyes, touches lingering all over your body, as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he was scared to break you. Too late for that, the inner voice stated, while you roamed your hands all over his body, you already broke me, Chris.

Withholding this intense eye contact while taking off your jeans, Chan let out a gluttural sound, almost a growl, when he saw black lace panties — the set he bought you himself. He trailed kisses from your knees up to inner thighs, humming into your skin. He sharply sucked the same skin into his mouth, marking you as always. Some of the bruises looked like stars when fading away, and you used to think your thigh scars, left there by your teenage self, were vanishing under the love bites Chris was leaving.

But the stars did fade away, and the scars stayed. Under the stars, you were still bleeding — but this time it seemed to be unstoppable; you felt as if you could die from all of that internal bleeding.

A tender kiss Chris left on your yet closed core got you arching your back, your hand immediately landing on his head, fingers in his soft curls. You knew he was smiling when taking off your panties, and you felt it when he left soft kitten licks on your now dripping pussy.

He responded to your moans with a hum, sending vibrations all over your body. You tugged on his hair.

“Are you going to actually fuck me tonight?”

These were the first words uttered tonight. Chris grinned and took his pants off in one swift movement. His dick, hard and leaking with pre-cum, seemed to hypnotize you. You briefly noticed saliva running down his chin from all the excessive sloppy kisses he’d been giving your folds and a smug smile on his face — all just ‘cause he got to taste you again.

“I’m going to”, his knee was between your thighs now, “fuck you senseless”. He tugged on your earlobe with teeth, making you moan into his shoulder.

Slipping a finger inside your slit, Chris caught your whimper by his mouth, covering your lips with his. His thumb pressed to your clit, drawing circles around it, and you almost lost the thin thread connecting you to the harsh reality. It was your last time with Chris. Last time kissing him. Last time being his girl.

“Oh, fuck”, Chan groaned, when you reached for his cock. The mere touch of yours made him twitch and stop all of his movement to keep his composure. “You’re killin’ me, baby”, he rasped, head buried in the crook of your neck.

No matter what he said, you still battled with your reasonable self: she told you not to lose focus, to get pleasure but to never forget — you were leaving him for good. Your emotional side, however… She was already on the cloud nine, willing to obey to any command Chan requires from you. But even her, this bubbly and sweet self of yours — even she knew this pleasure would turn into pain later. Although she didn’t mind loving Chris, even she couldn’t be in love with him any longer. Even your tender persona had found out how much pain Chan inflicted on you.

Pushing in his girthy cock into you slowly, Chris stared right into your soul, observing the way your face expression changed. Your mouth fell open, eyes hazily watching him mirroring you, his grip on your hips tightened. You’d have crescent marks in the morning — the last signs of your love with him ever existing.

Finally, swallowed by warmth, Chris bottomed out, letting you adjust, as you gripped him, head thrown back. He peppered kisses all over the side of your neck, hands massaging your breasts slowly, pinching nipples to make you gasp.

As he sluggishly thrusted into you, Chan couldn’t take his eyes off you. You knew he was watching, as he always did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to stare back at him. You wanted to cum, not to cry.

As he felt you getting comfortable enough, Chan set a pace, massaging your inner walls in a frantic tempo. You squeaked every time he hit that spot, burying himself deep inside of you. You grinded against him, begging for more friction, as your nails left marks all over his shoulders.

“This is what you want?” His thumb started drawing circles on your clit, your composure long lost under the thick layer of pleasure.

Except for your mewls and Chan’s groans, the sound of skin on skin clapping was filling in the room. Although the way your pussy squelched every time Chris pounded into you was the only sound you could hear.

“Shi-i-i-t”, he hissed, his cock throbbing inside of you, “I can’t g-get enough of y-you”, Chan stuttered, your walls fluttering around his cock made him lose his mind little by little.

“I love you”, he huffed, forehead pressed to yours, “I love you so fucking much”.

Savoring his words — words you hoped to hear every time you were this close, you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate. You wish you could give in and forget all of that like it was a bad dream. You wish you could. But you never would.

“Shut up”, your breath hitched as you pulled him in for another sloppy kiss.

You’d yield to temptation one more time, to feel his hot breath on your skin, to feel the shockwaves gripping your body as you saw the stars while he chanted your name, reaching his high. The sheer layer of sweat covering the both of you, Chris watched as your breath steadied and you got up on the wobbly legs.

“Wait for me in the shower”, he puffed, still laying on his back, eyes shut.

“I’m going home”.

You stepped out of the room, collecting your jeans from the floor when he appeared behind you. “What? Why?”

You sighed. “Do I really need to explain this to you? After everything you’ve done to push me away?”

“But I-I thought… You and I, we…”

“What? Fucked?” You put your jeans on and huffed at his words. “Doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stay with you after you pushed me away”.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered. Chan screwed up his face and sniffed, and deep inside you felt like shit for making him feel this way. “I’m an idiot, baby, I have no excuses. Just if-“

“No”, you retorted. “No. You’re only interested now ‘cause I’m out of reach again, aren’t I? ‘The thrill of chasing’, that’s how you call it?

“Baby…” His eyes were closed as he let out a deep sigh. Yeah, you fucked up big this time, Chris. There’s no way out.

“Is there anything, anything I can do for you to forgive me? Please?”

“Yes, there’s one thing. Disappear from my life forever”.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf @tenshimara

[holdmeclosertinytaron]

RHW: Chapter One

Story Page / Playlist / Wattpad / AO3

Please read!! A/N: I am so excited that we're finally getting into the story properly now. You're really going to meet Taron and get a feel for Liliana, Evelyn and Jacob too which is so fun. This chapter means a lot to me for so many different reasons, but mainly because I have poured quite literally my soul into the flashback part of this. While there are a couple of differences and theatrics, the entire thing is real and still very raw so please be kind and read the trigger warnings. But without further ado, @brayndilyn and I would like to say thank you for the love on the prologue, and we hope you love chapter just as much!

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of adultery, depictions of narcistic behaviour, mental health in children.

November 5th, 2021

Two and a half excruciatingly long years filled with hundreds of emails, a rigorous editing process, and the original publishing date being pushed back due to scheduling conflicts, all led up to this moment. The moment that she stepped foot into the venue and saw everyone there for her. 

It was all worth it. She had finally done it. Liliana could proudly say that she was a published author and for the first time since she pitched the book idea to Martin and Evangeline, the stress that she had buried deep inside her began to dissipate. 

For a moment, she could breathe again. Maybe it was the p

rosecco that had been thrust into her hand as she walked through the door. It didn’t matter. She was at her book launch and she could breathe. Even if it was just for a little while. 

She was finally at her book launch event, something she wasn’t sure would ever actually wind up happening, surrounded by everybody who had helped make the book an actual thing. Martin, Evangeline and Charlotte who stood chatting to one another and laughing about something Martin had said; Jacob who was chatting to book shop owners about book signings up and down the country; book reviewers who had read advanced copies of the book but who wanted quotes for their articles; other authors who worked with Between the Lines; her entire publishing team; and her best friend since university and editor all in one room. For her.  

Between the Lines had hired a beautiful room in East London for the event, and had decked it out perfectly. A canopy of fairy lights shone above everyone and small tables had been scattered around the room for people to stand at and chat. There were balloons everywhere and a white carpet that led from the door to the table at the very end of the room. 

Liliana’s breath caught in her throat as she saw it. Over a hundred copies of her book sat elegantly, inviting the guests to take a copy of the finished product home with them to read, or to gift. She descended the stairs and only then did she realise just how busy the event was. People stood close together chatting about the industry, their lives, and the book, and Liliana had to squeeze her way past. 

She got pulled into a few different conversations as she made her way to the table. Only one thing remained the same with each conversation. Every person she spoke to congratulated her on the book and told her how much they’d enjoyed the story. 

It was overwhelming to have so many people tell her how amazing she was and how great the book was. Everything started with a small seed of an idea and it had led to that evening. She couldn’t be any more proud of herself and she loved that everyone seemed to enjoy the book that she had poured blood, sweat and tears into. 

So many tears. 

When she finally managed to reach the table of books, she tilted the remnants of her first glass of prosecco down her throat in a last ditch attempt to stop herself from crying. Throughout the process of printing the book, she had refrained from looking at the finished product until the launch event. She’d insisted that she wanted to take it all in with everyone around her but in reality it was so that she didn’t pull it out of production. 

Even after two years of knowing that the book was happening and that people were going to read her story, the thought of people actually reading it made her insides twist uncomfortably. She had been far more vulnerable than she had set out to be and she worried that people were going to look at her with sympathy rather than anything else. She didn’t want sympathy. All she wanted was to tell children and teenagers that they aren’t alone in whatever they’re going through. 

The tips of her fingers ran over the title of the book, the words ‘Still Holding On’, raised off the page and shinier than the background. Her name sat proudly at the bottom. 

Liliana Esme.

She snapped a quick photo of the book and smiled to herself. Tears pricked her eyes as she stared at it. She was happy. Happier than she had been in a long time. Everything had started to fall into place and she felt like her life meant something. Like she was doing what she was meant to be doing. 

The room was exceptionally crowded when she turned back to look at everyone who had come out to celebrate with her. Martin, Jacob, Evelyn and a few other colleagues were at a table close by and they beckoned over to her. She let them know that she would be there shortly and Evelyn turned to her with a bright smile. Liliana breathed deeply and she mouthed a thank you to her friend who simply winked at her. 

The event was a big deal and Liliana had been a bag of anxiety for weeks leading up to it. She had bought multiple dresses before deciding on the sage green one she wore; she had rehearsed the speech she was supposed to make over and over again until it was perfect and she had told herself, and Evelyn, on multiple occasions that she wasn’t going because it was all too much for her and she was overwhelmed. 

Yet as she stood watching everybody socialise, she was so glad that she didn’t cancel. That Evelyn had talked her into not cancelling on everybody the night before. Everyone was there for her and nobody had said anything negative to her like her mind had told her that they would. 

Martin walked over to where Liliana was and wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder, hugging her softly as she smiled at him. 

‘Our esteemed guests,’ he shouted into the room, tapping a spoon against his glass of prosecco to get everyone’s attention. ‘Can we all give a round of applause for our amazing author, Liliana?’ 

The room erupted into applause and Liliana couldn’t contain the smile that played at her lips. 

‘I remember Liliana walking into a conference room two years ago with these insanely detailed slides and she handed Evangeline and I both this folder with all of the information we could possibly want. I knew as soon as she handed me that, that one day we would be at her book launch. And here we are. Liliana has worked tirelessly throughout the process of her book. She came into the office daily and got on with regular work. But I would often walk down to the offices and find her writing or talking to Evelyn about the book and I loved it. We are so grateful to have you be part of our team, Liliana. Here’s to you.’ 

Everyone lifted their glasses in the air and toasted Liliana. Martin moved a few steps to the left and gave Liliana the spotlight. She smiled at everyone and filled her lungs with air before sipping her prosecco lightly. 

‘Thank you so much, everyone. I’ve practised this speech hundreds of times already. I practised it in the shower; in my head on the tube on the way to work; in bed before I sleep; when I’m cooking dinner. You get the gist,’ she chuckled. ‘This book means more to me than words will ever describe. I have poured the most vulnerable version of myself onto these pages and I have seriously lost count of how many times I deleted things and then rewrote them. I cried more than I have in years while writing this and I feel like if I had any tears left to cry, I would be a complete mess right now. Thank you so much for coming and joining me while I celebrate this new chapter of my life, pun fully intended.’ 

Another round of applause echoed throughout the room and people slowly started to go back to their private conversations. Liliana took a minute to really let everything sink in before she walked over to Evelyn and Jacob who were biting at the nail to hug her and let their excitement out. They pulled her into a group hug when she got to them and she chuckled loudly, holding them as tightly as she could. 

‘God this is all so overwhelming,’ she whispered as she looked around the room again. 

‘I am so proud of you,’ Evelyn said. ‘Like so incredibly proud of you.’ 

Liliana hugged her again and flagged down a waiter to get another glass of champagne. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘So,’ Jacob said after grabbing himself another drink, ‘I was talking to James Daunt and he said that he is incredibly interested in getting you on a couple of signings.’ 

‘James Daunt?’ Liliana asked. Jacob only nodded. There was a certain glint in his eye that she couldn’t work out though. ‘As in…the founder of Daunt Books and current CEO of Waterstones?’ 

‘See, Evie? She knows more about this stuff than you thought. Yes, that James Daunt. I’m going to meet with him on Monday and see what kind of things we can offer one another. But I have a good feeling about this.’ 

‘Jacob, I know we said that these things might happen but a book tour already? Surely it’s too early!’ 

Jacob nodded, and Evelyn motioned for him to say something else. Liliana looked between her two friends with furrowed eyebrows, waiting for one of them to speak up. 

‘Martin had a meeting earlier.’ 

‘Right? He always has meetings. This isn’t new information.’ 

‘No, it’s not. But the fact that you’re already stupidly close to being a Sunday Times Bestseller is.’ 

Liliana’s face dropped. ‘A Sunday Times Bestseller? The book doesn’t come out until tomorrow! How is that possible? I don’t. What?’ 

‘Preorders. It looks like your marketing ideas really paid off. Waterstones have a very limited supply that they can actually put in stores right now because of the number of preorders. Same with WHSmith. The chances of you getting the title is ridiculously high. And the fact that it’s a debut novel with these numbers is unheard of. It’s all Martin can talk about.’ 

Evelyn squeezed Liliana as she stared at Jacob. She couldn’t do anything but stare at him. Until a few people started to move away from the table closest to them and she saw the one person she hadn’t expected to see. She saw him. 

He was standing in the far corner of the room on his own with her book in his hand. She could see from where she was that he was tracing the title with the tips of his fingers in a similar fashion to how she had when she first arrived. Her heart pounded deep within her chest when she saw him.

‘Excuse me, you two. I just need to go and say-’ she paused and looked back to her two friends, ‘-hi to somebody.’ 

Each step closer to him echoed in her ears. The click of her heels against the wooden floor was the loudest thing she could hear. The closer she got, the more she could see what he was doing. He wasn’t tracing the title as she’d first thought. He was tracing her name and there was the smallest hint of a smile on his face. 

He’d changed a lot but that was to be expected when so long had passed. He’d grown a lot too. He was more manly and his shoulders were broader than she’d ever seen them. The sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket were tight against his biceps. 

Short stubble grew on the lower half of his face and a pair of gold framed glasses perched against his nose and Liliana broke out in a smile. She’d always told him that he needed them but he’d always brushed her off. He said he wouldn’t look good in glasses. He did. 

Even though his looks had changed, he still strongly resembled the boy she’d known all those years before. 

‘Taron,’ she whispered. Her voice was barely audible over the noise in the room but he’d heard her. 

He looked up from the book and Liliana could visibly see his shoulders relax ever so slightly. ‘Liliana,’ he said, almost as if he wasn’t sure that it was really her there. The same way she had when she’d seen him from the other side of the room. She wanted to reach her hand out and touch him, just to make sure. ‘Congratulations.’ 

‘I didn’t know if you would come.’ She couldn’t stop staring at him. He couldn’t stop staring at her. ‘I kind of thought you would have forgotten me. 

Taron’s face dropped and he shook his head. ‘How could I ever forget you, Lil?’ 

Lil. 

One word and her heart pounded harder than it had been before. She could remember the last time she’d heard the nickname fall from his lips. They were on a train platform making promises that neither of them would keep. 

The name only he was allowed to call her. Nobody who knew them both dared. There had been times when people Liliana had met tried to call her Lil but she had asked them politely if they minded not calling her that. And for the most part people just accepted her wishes and continued calling her something else. Those who tried to ask why were met with a ‘because I don’t like it’. She did like it. She loved it. But only when it was Taron calling her it. 

‘Can I give you a hug?’ He asked tentatively. 

Liliana nodded with a smile and sighed happily when her arms wrapped around his waist and he leaned his chin on her shoulder. He swayed her lightly but never pulled away. 

‘I don’t know why this feels so strange,’ he mumbled. ‘It feels so right but so…different? I don’t even think that’s the right word to describe it.’ 

‘I know,’ she said quietly. His arms tightened around her a little and her eyes fluttered closed. ‘But I guess that’s what fourteen years apart will do to us. It’s almost like we’re strangers again even though we knew one another so well before.’ 

‘Fourteen years?’ Taron asked as he pulled away, completely bewildered. ‘I’ll be damned.’ 

‘I try not to think about it,’ Liliana chuckled sadly. ‘It means we’re getting old.’ 

She tipped the remainder of her prosecco down her throat with an amused smile. The last time they’d seen one another, they couldn’t drink legally. Not that it ever stopped them. They’d moved on from alcopops at house parties in Aberystwyth to prosecco at major events in London. Taron joined her in finishing his glass, grabbing two more from the waiter who was walking past at just the right time.

‘You’re younger than me, Lil.’ 

‘By three weeks. That’s barely any difference! We’re both almost thirty-two. That’s just too crazy for me to even begin to think about.’ They both laughed, tapping their glasses together in a show of agreement. ‘Thank you, for coming tonight. It means a lot that you came.’ 

Taron nodded, holding a hand to her shoulder in comfort. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I can’t lie to you, I did think that maybe you had forgotten about me. It’s been so long, Lil. Too long.’

His voice was full of hurt and she tried her hardest to not cry in front of him. ‘How could I ever have forgotten you, T?’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve kept up with your life a little bit, big shot movie star. I saw the poster for Rocketman a couple of years ago on the way home from work. It was actually the day that I pitched the book. There was a queue outside the cinema and then I saw the poster. I was so proud of you. I am so insanely proud of you.’ 

‘I’m so proud of you, big shot author.’ He picked up the book that he’d placed on the table next to him and waved it in the air, earning a chuckle from his former best friend. ‘I’d say I can’t believe you finally did it but I can believe it. You were so set on being an author and now look at you.’ 

‘Did you read the acknowledgements?’ Liliana asked, motioning to the book with a tip of her head. ‘I think you’d like them.’ 

‘I read the dedication. It was really lovely. But who’s Matilda?’ 

‘My little sister.’ Taron’s eyes widened slightly and his head tilted to the right. He took a deep breath as though processing the news that she was a sister. ‘She’s ten now, and the reason that the book even exists.’ 

‘Is she here?’ 

Liliana blinked back tears and shook her head, pulling her top lip between her teeth as she twisted the stem of her glass between her fingers to distract herself from the fact that the only other person she would have wanted to be there couldn’t be there. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Taron said, holding his hand out. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’ 

‘You weren’t to know,’ Liliana smiled, sniffling. ‘I’d have loved for her to be here but it didn’t work out. I really do think that you’ll like the acknowledgements, by the way.’ 

Taron flicked through the pages of the book until he saw the acknowledgments, opening it wider so that he could read them. He pushed his glasses up his nose properly so that he could see before he started to read. 

This book has been two decades in the making. I first thought of the idea when I was twelve, riding my bike on the streets of Aberystwyth with my best friend, singing at the top of my lungs. I let myself believe that I was going to lift off the ground and fly far away. And I did. To some degree. 

But I never forgot my best friend. 

Taron, I want to thank you. Thank you for being there for me through the darkest days and always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. And thank you for never, ever giving up on me. I miss you so much and I hope that one day you’ll read this book and realise just how big of an impact you had on my life all those years ago. 

And to Tina. My second mum who loved me like her own daughter and showed me what it was to become a strong, independent woman. Without you, I wouldn’t know how to survive. Not only did you teach me what it means to be a great person, you also taught me how to love with my whole heart. If it weren’t for your love and your pride in me, this book would not exist. Thank you. 

‘You know she’s going to sob when she sees this, right?’ Taron chuckled through a sniffle, wiping his cheeks to remove the tears that had started to fall. ‘Thank you. So much. I missed you too.’ 

He grabbed her and pulled her into another tight hug, lifting her onto her tiptoes and burying his face in her neck. 

‘Don’t crease the dress,’ she giggled, wrapping her arms around him just as tightly. She felt secure in his arms and she smiled into him, letting herself feel like a child again, just for a short moment. ‘I meant it all. Thank you for never giving up on me. Your mum and you were family to me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you both enough.’ 

‘I didn’t do any of it for a thank you,’ he whispered into the shell of her ear, goosebumps rising on her arms and legs. ‘But you’re welcome nonetheless. And mum really is going to sob.’ 

‘I’m trying my hardest not to right now, I can’t lie.’ 

They pulled apart and looked at each other for a little moment. Taron wiped a single tear that had started to fall down her cheek with his thumb and smiled at her before they both turned to face the room. Liliana was still so overwhelmed by everything that had happened that evening but with Taron by her side, nothing felt as scary anymore. 

‘If only eleven-year-old me could see me now.’

November 3rd, 2000

‘And this,’ the guest speaker said as he changed the slide on the overhead projector, ‘is only a minor injury that I’ve seen thanks to the unsafe use of fireworks.’ 

The entire hall of year seven students groaned, and Liliana closed her eyes tightly trying her best to not vomit on the person in front of her. She hated fireworks at the best of times but when she saw the damage that they could do to people, she swore to never touch one, no matter how old she got. 

Taron turned towards her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side unnoticeably, not prepared to get told off by one of the teachers in the hall, nevermind getting asked multiple times by the other students if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. ‘You know that only happens when idiots get a hold of them, right?’ 

‘We’re eleven!’ She whisper-yelled. ‘They don’t need to show us this stuff. It’s not like we’re going to be stupid enough to actually use fireworks.’ 

‘I can give you the names of two people in our year group who would make you think differently,’ he whispered, motioning to the front of the hall. 

Liliana peered to the front left of the navy bleachers where the two ‘bad boys’ of the year group sat, accompanied by a teaching assistant who had, on numerous occasions already in the fifteen minute assembly, told them to stop talking and pay attention. 

‘But it’s not like I’m going to be setting any off tonight. Or ever, for that matter. My mum says we’re going to Aunty Rachel’s for a bonfire and I will be in pyjamas, playing on my Gameboy in the living room and eating my weight in bonfire toffee. I don’t want any part of bonfire night. I hate it.’ 

Taron chuckled but quietened quickly when Mr Charles looked up at the two of them. He turned his attention back to the front of the hall and Liliana followed his lead. Though she greatly regretted it when yet another disturbing image of an injury was shown on the large screen. Her stomach twisted into tight knots at the sight. She really hated bonfire night. 

As they were about to be shown the different types of fireworks, and no doubt the dangers that come with each, the door to the hall opened and their head of year Mrs Harris walked in and scanned the bleachers. Her eyes stopped at Liliana and she gave her a sad smile. 

Taron looked at Liliana in confusion and she could only shrug. 

‘I’m really sorry,’ Mrs Harris said quietly from where she stood, ‘but can I pinch Liliana Thomas please?’ 

Liliana stood up and started to move towards the steps in the centre of the bleachers to walk to her head of year. ‘Bring your bag with you, sweetheart.’

The room erupted in a group ‘ooooh’ and Liliana’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. She would be the talk of the year group for the rest of the day and for the following week for sure. Taron passed her bag to her and gave her a smile. 

‘I’ll see you on Monday.’ 

‘See you Monday,’ she whispered. 

Mrs Harris ushered Liliana to be as fast as she could, and when she was within reaching distance, she placed her hand on her back and guided her out of the hall. They walked through to the reception area and Liliana’s heart pounded the second she saw her mum waiting for her. 

Her mum had tear stained cheeks and held Liliana tightly when she saw her. Liliana was scared and confused all at the same time, the knots in her stomach pulling tighter with each breath she took. 

‘Mum, what’s happening?’ She asked quietly.

  ‘We’re going to your Aunty Rachel’s house now. I’ll explain in the car. Thank you Mrs Harris, for letting me take her home.’ 

The head of year smiled sweetly. ‘It’s no problem. I’ll see you on Monday, Liliana. Well done in choir this morning, by the way. You sounded lovely.’ 

‘Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.’ 

The walk to the car, despite only taking ten seconds in reality, seemed to take hours. Each step Liliana took got heavier, her feet dragging behind her like lead weights holding her down. Her uncle was in the car waiting for her and her mum with his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were an off white, yellow colour. It was a wonder that he could turn the wheel at all with how tightly he was holding it. 

‘Mum, what’s going on? I’m scared.’ 

Liliana fastened her seatbelt and pulled it tight against her middle, settling herself into the seat and staring at the back of her mum’s head. Eliza turned to face her daughter, only half of her face visible from the passenger seat of the car. The air in the car was thick and Liliana found it difficult to breathe. She opened the window a little and breathed deeply. The cold November air burned her nostrils but it was easier to breathe so she didn’t care. 

The car lurched forward but Liliana continued to watch her mum.

‘Your dad cheated on me,’ she confessed, sniffing loudly. ‘It’s why he wanted us to break up a few weeks ago. I had a feeling something was happening so your Uncle Tom took me to find out. I caught him with Carolyn this afternoon. I came straight here to pick you up so that he couldn’t. I don’t want you around her. Or him right now.’ 

Everything turned to slow motion around them. The fifteen minute drive felt like a fifteen hour drive. There was no music playing in the car as there normally was so Liliana was alone with her thoughts, the faint pounding of her heart in her ears the only sound she could focus on. Time didn’t feel real. One second they were at the school and the next they were on the main road headed towards town. But it felt like they hadn’t started to move. 

As she sat in the car with the world passing by around her, things started to make sense. Her dad was doing more plumbing jobs than he had been in a while, and on days when he normally wouldn’t. He would leave before she went to school and come home after she was in bed. He would often tell Liliana and Eliza that he hadn’t realised what time it was, or that his friend had cooked him dinner as a thank you for helping with the plumbing. He would hide the name of the person calling him, picking up his phone and running to another bedroom to talk. He was deleting messages when he sent them and he didn’t seem to pay attention to anybody else in the house. 

Everything seemed to slot together and Liliana couldn’t help but cry. It was all too much for her. She thought that her parents were madly in love with one another and that they would be together forever. That she would be one of the lucky ones whose parents didn’t divorce. They had spoken about maybe trying to have another baby, to give Liliana a sibling. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen anymore. 

Her dad had cheated and lost the trust of not only his wife but his daughter too. Liliana felt sick knowing what he had done, and the hurt that he had caused. 

Only three weeks prior he had told Liliana that he and her mum were splitting up because they didn’t love one another anymore. She had been heartbroken and cried herself to sleep that night, sobbing uncontrollably into her pillow thinking about a life without her parents together. The next day, when Eliza had gone to the house to see Liliana, her dad had a panic attack severe enough that he wound up in the hospital hooked up to machines to check the strength of his heart. 

Eliza had gone with him and by the time they got home late that evening, they told Liliana that they were back together and for three weeks, they acted as if breaking up never happened. But nothing had been the same since. 

They’d been on spontaneous trips at the weekend, visiting the zoo and a theme park, and travelling further north to see her grandparents whom she hadn’t seen in a while. But no trip could heal the wounds of having her emotions toyed with the way that they had been. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and she’d woken up on a couple of occasions to an ambulance parked outside and paramedics talking to her dad. 

‘I don’t want to talk to him,’ she said as they got nearer her aunt’s house. ‘I don’t want to talk to him if he calls. Not right now at least.’ 

‘That’s fine,’ Eliza said sadly. ‘You’re old enough now to make your own decisions about that. You don’t have to see him until you’re ready. But even when you are, I’d rather you not be around Carolyn.’ 

‘I understand.’ 

Her dad didn’t reach out for a couple of weeks. To reach out would be to reach out to Eliza as Liliana had no way of communication other than through her mum. He didn’t know how Liliana felt about anything, or what she had been told, but clearly it couldn’t have mattered that much to him if he couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone or visit her. 

And then one day he did reach out. He wanted to see Liliana, and Liliana wanted to see him. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks and she needed to see her dad. She cried when she found out that she was going to be seeing him but she didn’t quite know why. 

Eliza agreed to him seeing Liliana, but insisted that he come to the house to see her for an hour and that he leave Carolyn at home. He walked into the house with his tail between his legs, not looking at Eliza once. Liliana, who had been excited to see her dad when she knew he was going to be there, didn’t know how to react when he was actually there. 

She hugged him quickly before running to sit back on the sofa where she had left her Gameboy playing a game. It was an awkward visit. Neither she nor her dad knew what to say to one another. They didn’t really have anything to say to one another. Liliana wanted to know why her dad had cheated but he didn’t try to say anything so she left it, turning the TV on to watch something. 

‘Why are you keeping her from me?’ He asked Eliza when she had finished prepping Liliana’s dinner. He stood from the sofa to stand over her. 

Liliana cowered into the corner of the sofa, lifting her Gameboy to play as a way of distracting herself from what she knew would be a blowout argument which she didn’t want to hear. 

‘I haven’t been keeping her from you,’ Eliza replied firmly. ‘It’s Lili who’s said that she doesn’t want to talk to you right now. And I don’t blame her, either. After what you did to the two of us, I’m surprised she even wanted to see you today.’ 

‘Oh fuck off, Eliza. You’re always trying to get her to pick sides and you do everything to get her to pick yours. I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to deal with you anymore, you bitch.’

‘I’m the one trying to get her to pick sides? What about when you picked her up from school the day you kicked me out and you told her that we just didn’t love one another anymore? How about that? That wasn’t you trying to seem like the good guy? Get the fuck out of my house.’ 

‘Your house? That’s rich. It was my parents who picked it for us. MINE. I’m only letting you stay here because of Liliana. If it weren’t for her, you’d be homeless or living with your shitty mum.’ 

‘Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House. I’ll call the police if I have to.’ Liliana stayed frozen on the sofa with tears streaming down her face so fast that her eyes had started to sting. 

‘Look, you’ve made her cry now. How does that feel? Knowing you’ve made your own daughter cry?’ 

‘Don’t bring her into this. She’s scared because you started screaming. Now get the fuck out!’ 

Her dad walked to the front door and swung it open harshly, stepping outside and walking to his car. ‘You’ve not heard the last of me yet,’ he threatened as he unlocked the car and opened the door. 

‘I hope you wrap that thing around a tree and die, arsehole!’ 

Liliana sobbed into the sofa, more scared than she had ever been. It felt like a part of her had died inside. How would she amount to anything? She was destined for the same life her parents had, she could feel it. 

November 5th, 2021

The book launch had started to die down and slowly but surely, people were starting to make their way home. It was getting close to ten thirty and Liliana was less than sober. She smiled at everybody she saw and offered them a glass of prosecco. When they turned down her offer she offered a shot instead. Evelyn and Jacob had taken her to a table to keep her from dancing on top of one, but they both loved how carefree she was. 

The entire evening had been a success and Liliana was on cloud nine. Jacob had continued to speak to different book stores and had got a list of the best ones he wanted to talk to the following week before he would present his ideas to Liliana. Even if he wanted to talk to her about it that night, there was no way that she would remember it. 

Every time a round of prosecco was walked around the room, she’d had one. If she still had some in her glass when another waiter walked by, she downed it and grabbed a fresh one. Evelyn had joined her for a little while but then switched to water so that she could make sure that Liliana got home safely. It was a forty-five minute Uber ride back to Liliana’s flat and at least one of them had to have some wits about them. And it was Liliana’s night so Evelyn forfeited her alcohol consumption, something that Liliana took as a need to drink for the both of them. 

‘God I’m so lonely recently,’ Liliana sighed, elbow on the table and cheek smushed into her hand. ‘It’s been like, god I don’t even know how long since I last went on a date or anything. It’s like there’s this fire in me and I don’t know how to put it out. 

‘You just need to get yourself out there, babe,’ Jacob laughed as he shimmied in front of her playfully. ‘When was the last time you got laid?’ 

‘I can’t even remember,’ Liliana groaned, fake crying. 

‘Hey, I have to get going,’ Taron whispered in Liliana’s ear, hoping to not interrupt the conversation. ‘I’m sorry to pull you away from your conversation.’ 

Liliana put her hand on his arm to steady herself. The room had started to spin a few minutes before and she found it difficult to stand up straight. ‘Oh, I’m glad you did,’ she laughed. ‘Jacob was about to suggest something crude and I’d rather not listen to it. I’m so glad that you came. It was really lovely getting to see you again.’ 

‘I’m so glad that you invited me,’ he replied. ‘Would it be too cheesy to get your number, if it’s changed since we last spoke, so that we could maybe sort out to meet again? I don’t want to go back to being strangers.’ 

Liliana smiled, letting herself lean against his arm gently. He smelled good. A lot nicer than what he used to smell like as a teen. ‘I’m so glad you don’t wear that Diesel cologne anymore.’ 

‘The one you bought me as a gift?’ 

‘Yeah, it smelled so bad.’ 

Taron laughed. ‘Nice to know you thought I smelled bad.’

‘I meant, you smell better now.’ 

‘Thanks, I think. Here, let me get my phone.’ 

He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his contacts app, scrolling down to L and clicking on Liliana’s name. She noticed and couldn’t help but smiling, scrolling through contacts until she got to ‘T’. 

‘I wanted to text you when I saw the Rocketman poster,’ she confessed. ‘Took me a solid fifteen minutes to talk myself out of it.’ 

‘You talked yourself out of texting me? How come?’ 

Liliana shrugged gently. ‘I guess I was worried that you didn’t remember me. And then I realised that your phone number would have probably changed and it would have been far too awkward sending a random person a photo of the Rocketman poster telling them how proud I was that they’d made it big.’ 

‘Okay yeah that’s probably for the best,’ he laughed quietly. ‘Here, put your new number in here and I’ll text you so that you can save mine.’ 

‘Can you do it for me? I’m seeing double right now.’ 

Taron nodded, taking Liliana’s phone and sending himself a text. ‘Here you go. I promise I’ll text you soon, okay. Thank you for a great night.’

‘Thank you. I should probably head home soon to be honest.’ 

‘Make sure to drink some water, okay?’ 

‘I promise, T.’ 

‘Goodnight, Lil.’

[crybabytoy59]

PT3 A window in time…

oils....

“Clever Baby girlie you Cry all you want Nanny and I both love your cute tears of surrender Potty Girlie …Keep swallowing we have your next punishment to get ready so rest while you can princess As your going to need All your strength !!”

They both disappeared behind me as I sallowed my day old morning piss !!

What had I done ! As I had collected five days of morning Pee for her ! …

Suddenly the flow ebbed giving me time to rest and concentrate on the fire in my diaper !…

“Right Madam let’s get on !”

Auntie Lottie removed my Mary Janes then my cute stockings…

I jumped in my bonds as she pulled on plastic bags with wetness inside ? 

They were simple foot spa type’s..this was not so bad ?

“Deep breath Crybaby !”

Auntie barked !!

They both put a foam 3” padded wooden board around a foot long under my shin and foot winding vetwrap around my ankles then lower foot at my toes ! This made my feeties almost flat with my shins painfully !

But they were Far from done next was bondage tape ! Followed by little spike balls set to each side of the hollow at my ankle ! 

More wrapping around this then they pushed wedges between each toe in turn wrapping this tightly also…

I was whimpering now as Namny appeared at my face ..

“Aawwww Crybabies looking quite adorable Auntie Lottie do you mind if I take a picture of her cute little tears 😭?”

Auntie Lottie patted my diapered rear !

“That ok isn’t it potty toy !”

Thwack ! 

“Answer Auntie !” 

Wess Auntie !… I squealed from the wet wadding ! ! 

“Much better but let’s change this Disobedience Crybaby…You answer first time Every time !”

Thwack !! 

Auntie Lottie was flogging my feeties ! 

There was No escape as my feet simply couldn’t move !

After a bit I started crying but not like the first tears …. Big tears this time as Nanny joined her taking a foot each ! …

“Want us to stop Crybaby?….(I squealed out a Wess Auntie !) Well let’s see if you can be Obedient princess…Wet you diaper now !”

I did try but nothing would come out !…

“Don’t fret Crybaby it just because your needing a drink ..Nanny can you get the next bottle please !”…

I burst out crying more ! to them mocking me..

“Clever girlie there she is there’s our Crybaby ! Yes sweetpee you’re Fucking ours now Missy !”...

Nanny poured in very slowly “Thursday morning”…as my swallowing began again…

Auntie Lottie patted my Diaper… Now princess if you wet for us before you’re done with Thursday morning then We will let you rest your headie ok…So up to you Crybaby?”..

To my complete surprise half way through I stopped swallowing to wet myself !…

“My my what much better behaviour little one ! Finnish up swallowing and we will take your straps off…That a clever girlie Crybaby “

The relief from the tension in my neck was so good !

“Now Potty Toy let’s take your gagging out !”

Nanny had the wee bucket from the make up table…as Auntie slowly pulled the pissie wadding out she patted my headie..

“Open nice and wide Crybaby !”

As I did she fed huge red lips into my mouth fixing them to my face harness… 

The lips had a rubber rubbed tunnel into my mouth…

“Now Crybaby best behaviour and let Auntie feel that cute tongue at work missy ! “

She pushed into my mouth just the tip !

“Work it Potty Toy !”

Nanny was taking pictures ! …

As she mocked me..

“My my look at you Crying as you suck Auntie Lottie’s clittie …Look at me !”

Flash ! …

[behindthescenesoftaylor]

Hey! So lately I've been thinking about Kyle x (fem) reader who is like really abusive but it's because her drinking problem and all her unhealthy relationships she's been in which Kyle finds out moments before he was about to break up with her because of her abusive behaviour and instead of breaking up he decided to try to help her somehow.

(Aged up ofc) A little fucked up idea but if you feel comfortable with writing something like that I would be grateful!

Addiction Kyle broflovski X Addicted! Reader

TW!! ALCOHOL ADDICTION

Kyle goes to confront (y/n), and finds out a terrible secret and the reason why she was so abusive.

1,100 words | afab reader | aged up characters | if you didn’t like it tell me what you didn’t like and I’ll change it for you! :)

IDK ABT THIS ONE GUYSSS I FEEL LIKE ITS RUSHED 😢

—-

This was it

Kyle was finally going to break up with (y/n). The bruises were too much, the insults were too much, and the excuses he would make when his roommates asked about how they were doing was too much.

He walked down the buildings hall, looking for her apt room, her roommate had moved out long ago, leaving her alone. Sadly, for him all that did was worsen the situation. He loved her, don’t get him wrong, but with every hit, insult, and bruise he found his love lowering and lowering until finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

His fast-paced walking stopped when he finally got to her door. He anxiously bit his lip, let’s hope she doesn’t make this too hard. He knocked, surprisingly loudly, the knock echoed through the hallways, but there was no answer.

“Fuck” he muttered, reaching for his pocket where he had a spare that was for situations like these. He entered the key and twisted it in before opening the door. A faint fan could be heard over the door squeak and he looked around, she’s not in the living room.

“(Y/n)?!” He yelled out. He scanned the whole dorm, there was no sight of her. What he could see though was an open notebook on her bed. Now, Kyle wasn’t the one to snoop, but this one time curiosity took the best of him. He grabbed the notebook, running his fingers along the spine as he turned to read the contents.

It just keeps getting worse, I’ve tried and tried so many times. Kyle doesn’t deserve me, he doesn’t deserve this, but i need him. There’s times i don’t remember what i did, but i could feel it.

He tilted his head and flipped the page to the next one, nothing. He then turned it to the first ever page in the notebook.

December 20th, 2021

I recently tried alcohol, and it was euphoric. It felt like for once in my life, all my worries went away. I’m thinking about making this an all time thing

March 2nd, 2022

I don’t think I’ve been a week without alcohol since i first started. The hangovers suck, but it’s all worth it.

October 31, 2022

I met this guy named Kyle, he’s amazing and I’m hoping we can maybe become a thing? I’m so excited! Currently drinking in my dorm, with my buddy Bebe.

Dec 20, 2022

I’m starting to regret this alcohol thing, it’s been a year. I cant seem to go a day without it. Me and Kyle got together, he was sweet, but I’m worried about what will happen if i keep this up, so I’m going to stop.

January 1, 2023

I cant stop. It’s keeping me awake, i can’t sleep, i can’t live without it. I cant.

January 10, 2023

I hit Kyle. I hit him and i yelled at him. It’s a hazy memory, but i remember it. I cant tell him about my problem. I don’t know.. what am i going to do.

Suddenly the door slammed open. The rattling of hung photos could be heard all the way from the room. Kyle quickly shut the notebook and went to the closet, leaving a little peak in the door to see.

(Y/n) was seen stumbling, a red cup in her hand. She was giggling to herself, but then the giggling turned into crying out of nowhere. “FUCK!”

She punched the wall, upset about something. But Kyle wouldn’t let her hurt herself, not now that he knows. Kyle quickly stepped out of the closet, making his presence known.

"(Y/n)!" Kyle called out firmly, his voice cutting through the air. "Stop!"

Startled, (Y/n) turned towards Kyle, her eyes widening in surprise and anger. She held the red cup tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice filled with frustration.

"I came to talk to you, but I found your notebook instead," Kyle replied, holding it up slightly. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy, but what I read... it worries me, (Y/n)."

A mix of emotions crossed (Y/n)'s face—confusion, betrayal, and anger. She took a step forward, her hand trembling.

"You had no right to read that!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "Get out of here!"

Kyle stood his ground, concern etched on his face. "I'm sorry, (Y/n), but I had to know what was going on. I care about you, and I can't stand by while you're hurting yourself and our relationship."

With a sudden surge of anger, (Y/n) raised her hand, preparing to strike Kyle. But before she could make contact, he swiftly caught her hand mid-air, his grip firm yet gentle.

"No!" Kyle said firmly, his voice laced with determination. "I won't let you hurt yourself or anyone else. We need to talk about this, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) struggled against his grip, her anger momentarily replaced by shock. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she slumped, her defiance fading away as a wave of sorrow washed over her.

"Why... why are you still here?" she sobbed, her voice filled with anguish. "After everything, why won't you just leave?! You don’t deserve this.”

Kyle's expression softened, and he released his grip on (Y/n)'s hand. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her as she continued to sob. The anger had dissipated, replaced by a deep sorrow that tore at his heart.

"Because I love you, (Y/n)," he whispered, his voice full of compassion. "I won't abandon you, even when it's difficult. We need to face this together, no matter how hard it may be."

As Kyle held her, (Y/n) collapsed into his embrace, her sobs becoming more subdued. She clung to him, seeking solace and finding a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

Kyle held (Y/n) tightly, providing a comforting presence in that moment of vulnerability. He gently stroked her hair, offering silent support as they stood in the middle of the room. The weight of their struggles, the bruises and insults, the addiction that had taken hold—it all hung heavy in the air.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle," (Y/n) finally managed to say between her sobs. "I never wanted it to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

Kyle continued to hold her, his voice filled with empathy. "I know you didn't, (Y/n). Addiction is a powerful force, and it changes people. But we can't let it define our relationship. We have to fight it together."

(Y/n) looked up at Kyle, her tear-streaked face showing a mix of gratitude and despair. "I've tried so many times to stop, but I can't do it alone. I need help."

"And you'll have it," Kyle assured her, determination evident in his voice. "We'll find the support you need, whether it's therapy, rehab, or whatever it takes. We'll face this battle together, (Y/n), and come out stronger on the other side."

In that moment, amidst the pain and uncertainty, they found solace in each other's embrace.

[12romy]

I’m curious about two of you WIP

I already know your name

2. A twist of fate

Oh boy, those are big ones! Put under the cut because mention of Jules Bianchi for one and mpreg for the second so you've been warned!

1- The first one is actually one of my favourite, I am really excited to publish it but I only wrote 1/3 of it (1/3 being already 90k, help), and I'm a bit stuck at the moment... So I'll try to write a bit more before I start publishing it.

To make it easy, imagine 2019 Charles being teammate with Seb at redbull in 2010. Chaotic, right? Now add a bit (lot) of "Jules is alive but might not be for long if Charles can't save him"-related angst, hate sex, Brocedes being disgustingly in love, Micheal causing drama (beloved) and Jenson causing drama (derogatory), and Seb being the paddock whore. Yeah, I know, that's a lot 🤣

Anyway, I struggled to pick one moment but here's the snippet! Don't hesitate to ask more about this fic I'm litteraly dying to talk about it, and I'm struggling a bit rn...

Floppy blond hair, round cheeks, blue eyes, and fat lips wearing an annoying grin. Yeah, that was Sebastian Vettel. Of fucking course.

“Oh, you’re the new guy!” Vettel exclaimed, beaming. “You’re that Leclerc kid, right?”

In his former life, the first time Charles saw Sebastian properly – which meant not on TV or from afar – was at Jules’ funerals. Sebastian was carrying the coffin, and their eyes met for a second. They shared a second, there, of pure sorrow and sadness. They were both crying, yet Charles couldn’t help to find Sebastian beautiful in his grief, as much as he hated that expression on him. It had made him want to never see him this sad, this desperate.

As ridiculous as it sounded, he had felt some sort of connexion with the man ever since, even if they were never truly close. He had hoped they would become friends, once they were teammate at Ferrari. And now, it was all ruined. He’d never be friend with Vettel. He had to steal a championship from him, he didn’t have to time to make friends with him-

Oh, wait.

Actually, if Formula One had taught him anything, it was that it didn’t cost anything to be nice out of the tracks. Usually, people answered with the same kindness. He knew Vettel wasn’t one to play nice, but it didn’t cost anything to try, right? Might be best to get as many allies as he could, and if it meant manipulating Vettel a little… After all, if he didn’t play to the psychological war soon, he was going to lose before it even began. He had studied Vettel’s behaviour, on and off tracks. He knew he was one to ignore team orders, annoy his teammate as much as possible, and be cocky in every situation.

God, he was missing older Sebastian so much. He was more mature and responsible, and less reckless. In his mind, Charles thought him easier to beat because he was softer, but he never had the time to test that theory. This Vettel was not the same. All smiling and harmless in appearance, until he revealed his true nature. Just a technique to lure you into trusting him.

Charles put a smile on his face – pretty convincing, if he had a say in it, and extended a hand. “Charles Leclerc, yes, it’s so nice to meet you,” he said cheerfully.

Vettel shook his hand with an easy smile that had the ability to absolutely piss Charles off. It looked like the man didn’t see him as a threat at all.

“Nice to meet you too, Charles, I’m-”

“Please, I already know your name,” Charles couldn’t help but cut him. “You’re pretty famous already.”

“Wait until I get my first championship,” Vettel teased, winking.

“Not if I get it first,” Charles replied on a light tone, as if he couldn’t feel the tension behind the conversation, the threat. Don’t you dare be a problem to me, was what Vettel meant. Oh, but I will be, was what Charles answered.

2- Now, the second one has some tw because it has mpreg + pregnancy denial... Remember when Pierre needed an echography last season because he had a stomach ache or something? Well boom, he discovers he's 8 months pregnant and about to give birth, which explains the pain. Let's just say he ends up pretty traumatised and abandons the baby. He does give Pyry the name of the other father so he can warn him and it turns out to be.......... Lewissssss (obviously). So you have a fic with double pov alterning from Pierre dealing with his trauma and Lewis dealing with a baby.

I don't know exactly where I'm going with the romantic pairings, I don't know if I want Pierre and Lewis to end up together at the end... With the way it's going I'm afraid it's gonna end up with a polycule Lewis/Nico/Vivian and I don't know what to do with Pierre. If you want to talk about it I'm interested, I got a writer block with this one as well XD

Lewis didn’t sleep a wink that night. He dropped Roscoe to Angela at 5am and was on the plane less than an hour later. He took a taxi straight to the hospital and joined Pyry in the parking lot. They got inside through a back door and a nurse led him to a small nursery room.

“Go on, she’s in there,” Pyry told him gently. He stepped closer to the glass crib where he could only see a small bundle of blankets.

And there she was, in the middle of the bundle, sleeping peacefully.

“Oh my god,” he choked out, overwhelmed. The nurse beside him said something in Italian which Pyry translated. “You can hold her, if you want.”

“What?” Lewis shout-whispered, terrified. “No way, she’s so tiny, I’m gonna hurt her!”

“You won’t, the nurse will show you how to hold her right,” Pyry told him gently.

A first tear fell from his eyes the second she was secured in his arms, then if felt like he couldn’t stop crying. She was there, against his chest, warm and alive.

And when she opened her eyes for the first time, looking at him with bright curiosity, he came to a decision.

“What’s her name?” he asked, sobbing.

“She doesn’t have one...” Pyry said awkwardly.  “Maybe wait for the DNA test before naming her, though...”

“I don’t need to wait,” Lewis shook his head. “Whether or not she’s mine, I’ll raise her.”

[mermaid--bride]

Diabolik Lovers || Dark Waters - Kazemi Maniac Route [Maniac Prologue]

Monologue

He was crying so hard the first time I saw him...

A simple, fragile and beautiful human boy.

That was all he was.

After the warning from my parents, I thought I would never see him again.

Looking back... I wish I never saw him again...

I wish he never came looking for me.

I wish he didn’t smile when he invited me to play.

I wish... that day in the forest never happened...

--Flashback starts in the forest

Child Goki: ... ... ...

Child Kazemi: Found you~!

Child Goki: AAH!!

... How do you do that!? It’s almost like you can smell me!!

Child Kazemi: Fufufu Maybe I do~

You’re so smelly I could never miss a step you take!

Child Goki: Hey! I don’t smell!!

Child Kazemi: Hahahaha

Child Goki: Hmph!

Ok! Do it again! But no cheating!

Child Kazemi: Alright~! I’m closing my eyes now~!

... 1...

2...

3...

4...

Child Goki: ... ...

*Smooch*

Child Kazemi: ...!

Child Goki: Fufufu That’s cheating. You’re supposed to keep your eyes closed, you know?

Child Kazemi: But... you just kissed me out of nowhere!

Child Goki: Of course I did! You’re so beautiful I just couldn’t help myself!

Besides, I really really like you!

Child Kazemi: ... Eh...?

(He likes me...!?)

Child Goki: Say, Kazemi-chan! Do you like me too?

Child Kazemi: ... I... don’t...

Child Goki: Eeeeh? You don’t!?

Child Kazemi: Nope... I love you, Goki-kun!

Child Goki: E-Eeeeeh!?

Child Kazemi: Hahahaha! Your face is all red! Haha!

Child Goki: Th-That’s not fair! Only adults are supposed to say that!

Child Kazemi: You don’t need to be an adult to love someone!

Child Goki: Of course you do!

Child Kazemi: I love you. love you, love you~ haha!

Child Goki: Aaaah! Stop it!

Kazemi: Back then it felt like the world was all ours...

Nothing could stand in our way... We would be friends forever...

But... it seems life had other plans for us...

Doremi: Kazemi!? ... Kazemi!!

--Kazemi runs to her mother

Child Kazemi: Yes, mama?

Doremi: Come inside! Quick!

Child Kazemi: Eh? Why!?

Doremi: Please, no questions now! Just do as I say!

--Doremi takes her child to a room upstairs

Child Kazemi: Mama, what is happening!?

Doremi: Kazemi, looks at me. Listen very carefully.

There are some bad men coming after us. Mama and daddy will try driving them away, but you must stay hidden until I tell you to come out, undertand?

Child Kazemi: But mama-

Doremi: Do you understand, Kazemi!? Do not come out, no matter what you hear! You wait until mama or daddy comes to tell you it’s safe, ok?

Child Kazemi: Y-Yes, mama...

(Mama is really scared... I’ve never seen her like this before...)

(I wonder who these people are...)

Doremi: Good girl... Mama loves you so much...!

Now get inside this cupboard.

Remember, do not come out until we say it’s safe.

Child Kazemi: Yes, mama...

*screen goes dark*

--Flashback ends

--Scene changes to the classroom

Kazemi: Aah!! ... ...

(... A dream... ... Why am I remembering these all of sudden...?)

(... Maybe it’s because of him...)

--Ruki appears

Ruki: ... Good grief... It is the second time this week you sleep during classes.

What is wrong with you?

Kazemi: ... I’m sorry...

(I haven’t been able to sleep since... that person came to our school...)

(I guess it’s no wonder I’m so tired, but I still should try my best not to upset Ruki...)

Ruki: If such behaviour persists, I will be forced to punish you out of those habits.

Fix yourself quickly. I have something to attend to, so make sure you meet us at the entrance.

Kazemi: Alright...

Ruki: Good.

--Ruki leaves

Kazemi: ... Haah... Guess it’s time to go...

--Kazemi goes to the hallway

Kazemi: (I’m so hungry...)

???: Oh there you are~

Kazemi: Hm?

...!

--Goki appears

Goki: Hey, Kazemi-chan~! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

Kazemi: (No... Not him...! Please, God, not him...!)

Goki: What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.

Heh, although we both know who’s actually alive here, don’t we~?

Kazemi: ... ... What are you doing here...?

Goki: Me? Well I study here now, you forgot?

Kazemi: WHY are you in this school, Goki?

Goki: ... ... Fufu.

I came after you, Kazemi.

Kazemi: ... ... ...

Goki: You thought I would simply let you go?

That I would just forget about you and move on?

Come on now... You know that isn’t possible for me.

Your beauty isn’t exactly something to be forgotten, now, is it~?

Kazemi: Do not talk about me like that...

Goki: Oh so you still deny it?

A monster like you should never have been born in the first place!

Kazemi: I am not a monster!!

Goki: You don’t actually believe that, do you?

Kazemi: ... ...

(Stop...)

Goki: You know who you are...

Kazemi: (Please stop...)

Goki: You know what you’ve done...

Kazemi: (No... ...)

Kou: My my... What’s going on here~?

Goki: Hm?

Kazemi: (Kou-kun!)

--CG appears

Kou: Kujira-chan~ Is this the guy who bothered you the other day~?

Kazemi: (H-He’s hugging me from behind!)

Goki: ... And you are?

Kou: I’m Kujira-chan’s friend, of course~!

And you are~?

Goki: Karigi Goki... Her childhood friend.

Kou: Eeeh? Really?

Then we’re all around friends here! How nice~

Goki: It was nice before you arrived... We were having a private conversation.

Kou: Fufu, well aren’t you a rude one.

You know, I don’t appreciate your attitude at all. I think it’s time for us to go, right, Kujira-chan?

Kazemi: Y-Yeah... ...

Ruki-kun said he’d be waiting for us...

--GC fades

 Kou: Right! Let’s go then!

There is a limited amount of time for being exposed to unpleasant presences after all~

See ya~

--Kou and Kazemi walk away

Goki: ... ... ...

--Scene changes to the school entrance

Yuma: Oi, what took you so long?

Kazemi: Sorry... I had a problem with an old friend...

Kou: Good thing I was around to save the day, right Kujira-chan~?

--Kou comes closer

Kou: You don’t mind giving me a little bit of blood later to show your gratitude, right~?

I did help you out after all~

Kazemi: Eh? I...

(Is this why he helped me!?)

Ruki: Either way, let’s get going.

We still have to buy groveries before going home.

Monologue

So many years have passed... How did he find me? Why is he after me? There’s something about him... I don’t like it at all... What should I do? If he followed me this far, is there even anywhere I could hide? It’s like I’m trapped again... Just like that day in the cupboard...

--End of Maniac prologue

[nyarasembo]

Self-Discovery

From the beginning of 2022, I did not have any energy in me. I starting to view everything from a different perspective, like it was all meaningless. Why was I feeling that way when I have had my life in order until that time? What was supposed to happen now that I was in a slump? Logically, I came up with ideas of what I ought to do: work out, lose that weight, learn everyday, pick up the developer classes, visit family and friends. It seemed easy when I wrote down the ideas, but suddenly, I did not have it in me to do anything. I felt like I had no one to turn to, even when I had. I knew what I was going to be told when I approached someone. “It’s going to be fine, everyone goes through that sometimes.” I woke up every morning, hoping to feel motivated to dress nicely and leave the house, or make a call to a friend. Yet all that happened was me not wanting to wake up, and when I did, I could only sit, sometimes watching TV or sometimes just staring into space. Through that, I was learning about the things I need and don’t need. I also tried to understand human behaviour in different stages of life. 

I wasn’t entirely wrong; everything is meaningless. By understanding this, I stopped being hard on myself. I taught myself not to take failure or succes too seriously since everything is actually temporary. One day you laugh, then cry. The inevitable is death, when you’re lucky, you get to die old. I think that is the best kind of death, when you have been given the chance to do much in this world before you leave.

I couldn’t understand some choices, why do some people seek so much of something, when nothing will ever be enough? When they will leave everything behind anyway?

Contentment. Yes. It is my goal to always be contented. I know my limitations, and reality is that I might not get everything that is great in this life. But by God, I should at least be satisfied with what I get. Not to mean that I lack ambition. No. It is good to have money and afford things. But I don’t need to buy myself a jet in order to validate my success. It is cool to have a jet though, for those that can afford, I just won’t see myself as a failure just because I’ll die without owning one. Infact. majority of people don’t even own jets. You get where am going with this?