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#i'd be so happy if you tried it out and told me what you thought!
leiflitter · 3 days
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Felix calling Oliver's office with an "emergency" and he was just lonely and needed to talk to him.
Whenever the desk phone rang, Oliver jumped. Stupid, really, that he even had a phone on his desk- they were in the digital age, everything was done on his laptop- but old habits died hard, and Oxford was built on old.
It probably wasn't anything important, anyway. Maybe he had some post to collect from a porter in another building, or some ancient acquaintance from a conference was calling to discuss something he'd published. Oliver was in two minds as to actually answering, but he ought to take a break soon. Go grab a coffee, text Felix, then text Felix again to say no, he wasn’t going to take any slutty pictures in his office.
Then he'd probably end up taking a selfie or two. Just to keep Felix happy, which meant when he got home...
He'd lifted the phone without thinking, giving his head a little shake before clearing his throat. "Associate Professor Oliver Quick, English-"
"Hi, Oliver." June's reedy voice always made Oliver feel like he should call his mother. She reminded him of Paula in far too many ways; he wasn't sure how long she'd been one of the reception staff, but if she retired the whole place would definitely crumble. "I have your fiancé on the other line- he says it's an emergency?"
"Fuck- sorry, sorry, June, did he say what it was, or... No, don't worry, just put him through?" Oliver trapped the phone between his shoulder and ear, hurriedly slamming his laptop closed and wondering how quickly he could be ready to go. The phone wasn't considerate enough to be wireless, and he didn't think he could reach his coat, but... June said something before there was a click, and Oliver tried to drag his laptop bag out from under the desk with one foot. "Felix? What's happened, June said it was an emergency, are you- or the kids- or Basil?"
"Oh."
Oliver's blood ran cold.
"Actually, Ollie-love, it... You weren't texting back, so I was a bit worried and I might have decided to make sure you were alright. I'd have emailed but I'd have to make a new one, seeing as my actual email's blocked, so... Calling it was."
"I told you I wasn't coming back for lunch today, Felix. You scared the shit out of me." Oliver collapsed back into his chair, gingerly reopening his laptop. Relief washed over him when he saw the screen was intact, and he crossed one arm over his chest, holding the phone with the other hand. "I thought... I don’t know. Someone had died, or something. You've got to find something to do, Felix."
"I have something to do, Oliver." Felix almost sounded indignant, before his voice dropped to a purr. "You. Except you're not here, so..."
"Felix, you're awful." Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. If he gave in, then he'd be reenforcing this behaviour, and it'd happen again and again and again... "Give me a minute. I'll call you back on my mobile?"
"Video call?" Felix was outrageously hopeful.
"Video call. Just... Felix?" There was a moment before a nonchalant hum down the line meant Felix hadn't hung up. "Give Baz his licky mat in the living room before you get your cock out? I've got about fifteen minutes, and if he interrupts- that's it, til I get home. Got it?"
"Aye aye, captain."
Oliver hung up.
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mezucore · 5 months
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i made a short visual novel-style retelling of some re-animator scenes in extremely rudimentary html for my website. i'd appreciate it if you checked it out <3
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nickfowlerrr · 6 months
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so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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success life story ♡
heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !
have a good read ☆
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michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3
the old story that i don’t live in anymore
okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.
same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.
i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.
about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.
STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️
i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,
tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.
but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !
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it clicked
then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».
i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.
and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing
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success storyy
in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.
starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize
won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)
winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)
financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 
all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️
move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful
friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life
got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories
black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 
my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.
dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples
plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )
lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too
attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)
good grades without doing much
perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story
whole ass pc set up
all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes
and so much more...
outro
i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ honey kisses, shayama
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dixons-sunshine · 3 months
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Breathe With Me | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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Summary: With you and Daryl being in a good place, kissing coming naturally to you both and cuddling no longer awkward, it was inevitable that your make out sessions would start to heat up into something else. However, in the heat of what should've been a hot moment, Daryl's mind started to wander to it's usual self deprecating depths. Luckily, you were there to help him through it.
Genre: Kinda angsty but mainly fluff
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, self deprecating thoughts, hyperventilation/panic attack.
Word count: 1.2k
A/n: Another young!Daryl fic in a span of not even two days? Who would've thought it was possible? It's mainly because I've been enjoying writing for young!Daryl recently, and I'd be happy to get any requests for this au. Also, I've never personally experienced a panic attack myself and this is all based off of what Google told me, so if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Shit, girl. Yer gon' be the death of me.”
You giggled against his lips, allowing him to push you down onto the bed. He followed soon after, moving to hover over you before reattaching his lips to yours hungrily. He used one of his hands to hold his weight up, the other one wandering over your exposed stomach. Your shirt was already disposed of and long forgotten, leaving you clad in only your shorts and bra.
To your surprise, when your hands wandered under Daryl's shirt, he only hesitated for a quick moment before withdrawing from the kiss and tugging his shirt over his head. Old and new scars were on display for you, leaving Daryl completely vulnerable under your gaze.
You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss, a silent way of thanking him for trusting you. It wasn't the first time that you had seen his scars—you had helped him with his wounds too many times too count, leaving you familiar with all of his scars—but you always tried to make sure that he knew you didn't judge him. You loved every part of him, scars and all.
You gasped against his lips when he let his hand trail down, his fingers lightly tracing over your clothed cunt. His tongue entered your mouth and he groaned at the taste. He pulled back momentarily to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.
“Fuck, yer so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.
You moaned when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, leaning your head back to grant him better access. Your mind was starting to get cloudy, the only thought on your mind being how good Daryl was making you feel. Admittedly, you were also nervous, since this would be your first time doing something like this, but you trusted Daryl. He wouldn't ever hurt you.
In an unexpected move, you managed to roll you both over. Daryl's eyes slightly widened in wonder, before smiling and leaning up for another kiss. His hands settled on your waist, allowing you to take the reigns for the moment.
Daryl was thoroughly enjoying himself. However, when he felt you subconsciously grind your hips against his, his mind zoomed in and focused on one thing—you would regret this. You would regret giving your first time to someone like him. He would be terrible at this and you'd finally kick him to the curb after figuring it out. He didn't deserve to have you in this way, in your most vulnerable state.
You would regret him.
Daryl's breathing started becoming erratic. Although you could've easily misinterpreted it as him simply getting more turned on, something told you it wasn't that. You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, noticing the slightly pained expression on his face. His breathing was quick and choked off, and he seemed to be in some sort of daze. You instantly knew something was wrong.
“Daryl, hey, look at me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek and gently urging him to look at you. When his blue eyes met yours, you could very clearly see the panic in them.
Instantly, all previous lustful thoughts left your mind, concern for your boyfriend taking root in their place. You knew exactly what was happening; Daryl was busy having a panic attack. You helped him into a sitting position, still straddling his lap. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest right above your heart, hoping to divert his attention away from whatever negative thoughts were plaguing his mind.
Still looking deeply into his eyes, you gently caressed his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding his over your heart. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” you whispered, starting to breathe in a controlled rhythm.
Daryl nodded and began to copy your breathing, his sounding more choked up than yours. He tightened his grip on your waist with his hand that was still resting there, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality. It took a while, with you soothingly rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone and breathing with him in a controlled rhythm, but soon he was calming down.
Daryl felt ashamed of himself. There the two of you were, half naked and sharing what should've been a blissful, enjoyable experience, and he let himself get into his own head. He let his own insecurities get in the way. He should've just sucked it up, but instead he just had to ruin the moment.
“M'sorry,” he muttered, looking down to avoid what he thought would've been a disappointed stare.
You frowned slightly and gently grabbed his face with both hands, urging him to look at you. “Hey, it's okay,” you assured him. When he shook his head in denial, your grip became more firm. “It is okay. Don't blame yourself for something that was out of your control, alright? Do you wanna talk about it?”
Daryl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. “I jus' got into my own head. I was nervous and convinced myself ya would regret givin' yer virginity to me. Started feelin' overwhelmed. M'sorry.”
You pressed a kiss against his forehead, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry. I get it. I was nervous too, you know? But I wouldn't have regretted anything. I trust you. There's no one I'd rather do this with. But it's okay if that doesn't happen right now. I'm ready whenever you are.”
Daryl gave you a small smile before leaning forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “M'still sorry. I was lookin' forward to this.”
“Me too, but it can wait. Let's get you taken care of, okay? And I don't wanna hear any buts, mister.”
Daryl nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed, but made no effort to lift you off his lap. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you fer understandin'.”
“Of course.”
There was a lot of things going through Daryl's mind at that moment. Despite your reassuring words, he still felt awful for what happened, his mind continuing to shame him. However, with your hands now gently threading through his hair to bring him some comfort, not giving a damn that you were still half naked and straddling him, he forced his mind to shut up.
And in that moment, it was confirmed in his mind—Daryl Dixon knew that he was never letting you go.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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dreamauri · 1 year
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♪ — 𝗦𝗛𝗛𝗛 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff+smut) “. . . you're finally able to attend one of your boyfriend's races and he super exited things get interesting”
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( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )
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"Lando." "Give me like . . . 5 more hours." The boy was sleeping, curled up on some blankets that he put together. One of the members of his team was trying to wake him up, because you were here. The team had put so much effort into flying you to Monaco, and now, Lando was being too lazy to see his surprise.
You were sitting beside him, but like an idiot, he didn't notice at all. "Alright, I'm out." You yawned, standing up and walking passing by in front of Lando and out the garage.
Lando was still half asleep, he thought he must've been dreaming. Sitting up and looking at your disappearing figure. "Am I- Is she?" He couldn't get a word out, not being able to differentiate between reality and dreams.
The team was laughing at him, gesturing and telling him to go catch you before you leave ( which you would not ). He quickly ran out, stumbling over his feet while looking for you. You, who knew he'd be searching for you like a maniac waited at the entrance where he wouldn't see you.
"Where did she-" "Tag. You're it, mother fucker." You tapped his shoulder quickly before running off. "No fair!" You could hear Lando shout as he tried to catch up to you. The first thing that came to mind was to go into the media pin. What you did not plan was hiding behind max, the blond looking confused as you and lando ran circles around him.
"Max don't just- Y/N! Come here! Max help me." Max chuckled taking a sip of his can, shrugging at the interviewer with a smile. "Max please!" "Max no-" you were to late, once the redbull driver put his hand up to stop you, you were immediately lifted up from your thighs by Lando, who quickly around away with you.
"My girlfriend!" He cheered again and again bouncing you up and down ad he ran through the paddock exited, showing you off to everyone. "The love of my life!" He laughed with the widest smile on his face.
You tried to turn around so you look down at him. You were a laughing mess, you've never seen him this happy. "Lando. Put me down." You said in between laughs as he continued to run around and spin you. "But you'll run away." He argued pouting. "I'll give you a kiss." You bribed with a smirk which made him quickly lower you and hug you by your waist.
His bashful smile spread across his face as he waited for you to kiss him. And you did leaning up and pecking his nose. "Heyyy." He whined trying to kiss you properly. "I never said where, I just told you I'd give a kiss." Lando pouted. "Oh my God, I'm dating a puppy."
You chuckled before you were pushed from behind into a kiss. Lando quickly savored it, cupping the back of your head so you wouldn't pull away. And once you did, you looked back to see Daniel Riccardo and Max Verstappen, standing there, looking around like they didn't do anything.
"Oh! Oh my God. Is that you Y/N? Long time no see." Daniel looked at you, pretending this was his first time seeing you, even though he was standing 2 feet away from you. "How are you, how's uni?"
"Going good." You nodded looking at max who still pretend like he was innocent, looking around nodding at random things. "She's looking at me and I know I'm going to pushed in the pool."
"Yes, she will." You chuckled taking Lando's hand, pulling him along. "So, see you all on Friday?" You nodded ready to leave with the ball of sunshine next to you. "You're not going to spend the day with us?" Max asked gesturing to the redbull garage.
"Yeah marketing has a few games for us to play, you don't wanna join." Daniel added. You've known this group for sometime. After growing up alongside Max on the track and being best friends with Daniel, you met Lando who eased into your life and made a cozy spot for himself.
"I'm sorry guys, but me and Lan have things to catch up on." You looked at your boyfriend smiling. "Back at the hote-" "Ew, aren't you two like 5?" Danny shook his head disapprovingly. "We don't don't need to know." Max scrunched his nose in disgust looking away.
"Max I can hear you and that Porsche driver from across the city." You told him in a matter of fact-ly. "Me and Mijn liefje are not loud." He nudged your shoulder chuckling. You and your ball of sunshine eventually made it out of there, running alongside each other to Lando's apartment hand in hand laughing together.
Running into his apartment, you two started undressing as soon as you shut the door, stumbling over your clothes as you made your way to the bedroom. Lando sat on the bed first catching you as soon as you straddled his lap falling on his back as you two began making out.
Laughs and giggles could be heard between you as hands explored each other's bodies. "Did they grow bigger? I feel like they did." He asked gripping your boobs gently. "Says you Mr. Abs, when did you get these?" You giggled pulling away as you look down at his bare stomach, tracing his muscles.
"Do you like them?" He asked holding your waist and pulling you further closer to him. "The look good on you." You nodded leaning down and kissing his jaw and neck. "Makes you look like a young Greek God." You hummed pulling away.
Intertwining your fingers together, you pinned his hands above his head, aligning yourself with him. The boy could only admire you. "Why are you smiling like that?" You chuckled raising an eyebrow. "What I can't smile at my girlfriend any more?" You giggled, leaning down and kissing him softly.
Lando swallowed the moans that came from your mouth, raising his hips out of impatience. He wanted more from you, all of you. "Slow down. We're not in a rush." You mumbled in between kisses, moans slipping from your lips as you finally settled down all the way. "Yeah but, I want you." He whispered back looking into your eyes.
You only chuckled, kissing him gently before sitting up and brushing your hair behind your back, you settled your hands on the boy's chest leaning forward slightly as you started moving. "Oh fuck, baby." Lando moaned holding your hips to guide you ( more like to touch you ). "You're so tight." He grumbled closing his eyes so he could only concentrate on you.
Much to his dismay, his phone started ringing. Leaning back a little, you peak through the door frame. The phone was in the pile of clothes you created earlier, desperately trying to get your attention. "Noo." Lando whined, hugging your waist and puling you back closer, his mouth found your skin where he took the opportunity to kiss and nibble, leaving marks behind.
You could feel him desperately try to thrust up into you, to get some friction. He moaned your name as you gently played with his curls leaning your head on his shoulder. Although Lando was on the average side, he fit you perfectly, and you wouldn't want no other.
"My love." He stuttered catching your lips. You smiled into the kiss, cupping his name as his hug tightened on you. Moving back a little, you laid you on your back with him on top, quickly wrapping your legs around his abdomen so he can continue with his thrusts.
Moans slipped from your lips as soon as he did. "How did I get so lucky?" He mumbled into your neck making you giggle. Lando's hand was trailing all over your body, exploring and admiring your being when he was interrupted once more. That stupid phone ringing again.
"I'll go get it." You mumbled attempting to break free from his hold. "Lando let go." The boy only held on, whining like a lost puppy. You chuckled kissing his head before breaking free and getting the phone. It was Carlos, which surprized. "Hola." You greeted walking back to bed to the impatient McLaren driver. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" . . . Well you were doing his best friend, but you could leave that part out.
"Doing? Me? Nothing important." You joked which made Lando look at you offended. You chuckled silently as you sat on your boyfriend's lap, holding his shoulders. "Well we might as well invite you too, is Lando there?" Carlos asked. You looked down at your boyfriend who was laying on his back looking at you disapprovingly. "No." You replied giggling down at the boy who only rolled his eyes.
"What's that idiot doing?" Carlos chuckled, as you covered said person with your free hand. Lando looked at you confused. He answered his own question as a moan escaped his lungs. "What was that?" Carlos cut you off hearing the noise. "Lando stubbed his toe. You want to talk to him?" "Yes please."
The brunette was shaking his head aggressively as you handed him the phone, you removed your hand from his mouth as you leaning back, moving again. Your boyfriend could only grip onto your thighs as he arranged plans with his friend. You were a pro at staying silent, unlike the stuttering boy beneath you.
His breaths were getting shorter and faster and he was more out of it with Carlos, holding one of your hands desperately. You knew he was close and you let him have it. "H-hey, I'll call you back." Lando cut off, ending the call quickly.
You could feel him begging for release, grunts and groans escaping his mouth. All he could do was take what you gave him. You could only laugh when his hips stuttered. "You- I- no idea." Failing to put a sentence together, you kissed him gently snuggling into him. "I love you." He finally said. "I love you." You returned kissing his cheek.
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midnightcrw · 2 months
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Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing
a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2
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If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.
And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.
"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.
And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.
"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.
They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.
"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.
"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.
"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.
"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.
When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.
And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."
A little too far back, you thought.
"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.
"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.
You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.
Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.
And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.
At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.
It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.
"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.
"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.
"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.
Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.
And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.
"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.
I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.
"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.
"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.
"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.
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And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.
"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.
"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.
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"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.
"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.
"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.
Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.
Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.
He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.
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"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.
"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.
"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"
A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.
"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"
At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.
"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"
Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.
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And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.
"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.
"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.
"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.
Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.
"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.
"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.
"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.
Fuck... you thought.
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mypoisonedvine · 6 months
Text
100 random dialogue prompts
truly random, there's a mix of angsty and smutty and fluffy in here. as a result it's nsfw and 18+ :)
"who did this to you?"
"where are you going dressed like that?"
"this isn't enough anymore. I need more of you-- all of you."
"I'm not angry, I just get tired of watching you get hurt."
"don't say stuff like that, it gets me all... confused."
"just lie to me, okay? just this once."
"I never said I didn't feel the same way."
"you should go... before someone sees."
"I hate how you make it impossible to hate you."
"too good for you? don't be ridiculous-- they don't deserve you."
"fuck, do that again... please."
"you promise you're going to behave this time?"
"oh please, you knew what you were doing... you wanted to drive me crazy."
"no, it's not over. it's never over."
"so you're saying even if we were the last people on Earth--?" "nope."
"sooo... is everything supposed to just go back to normal after that?"
"you can't ignore me. not anymore."
"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"
"you really didn't notice that I was falling in love with you?"
"is this really the last time?"
"I'm sorry, I swear I tried, but I just can't get over you."
"do you really think that toy can replace me?"
"don't tell me how to feel."
"forgive me, but I'm not feeling very patient right now."
"you could do so much better than me."
"what would they think if they saw you right now?"
"I didn't know you could be so obedient."
"you can take it."
"you were never my fallback-- I always wanted you."
"yeah, I want to, but... wouldn't it be weird?"
"don't act like you never thought about it before."
"I wish they could all know about us."
"you're the best mistake I ever made."
"no, I don't hate you... I'm angry, but I don't think I could ever really hate you."
"let's just stop now before anybody's feelings get hurt."
"don't get my hopes up if you're just gonna leave like everyone else."
"I can't let it end like this."
"if you do what you're told, you'll get a reward."
"what's gotten into you? you're being so... naughty."
"I think we're on a first name basis by now."
"don't do that... don't act like you don't feel this too."
"it was never just sex."
"I wish I'd met you sooner."
"you can tell me anything."
"why do we have to get out of bed again?"
"I think this is my favorite way to wake up."
"I was already yours."
"there's no way that was just a one-night thing."
"if you can look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go, I'll go."
"has anybody else ever made you feel like this?"
"it feels like we were made for each other."
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and I miss you."
"I have an idea to make them jealous."
"just one more kiss?"
"do you really expect me to believe this is what you want?"
"if you say you're happy with them, I'll believe you. or at least I'll try to."
"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me."
"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"
"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."
"hey, you lost the bet, fair and square."
"stop imagining it!" "I'm sorry, but I can't get it out of my head!"
"it's too bad we never did. we would've been great together."
"I never thought I'd hear you talk like that."
"oh, fuck me--" "okay." "what? it's just a figure of speech..."
"were you joking? I wasn't joking."
"admit it: you had a crush on me!"
"I just need you to hold me right now."
"friends can cuddle, right?"
"I wouldn't have picked this for movie night if I'd known it had so many sex scenes..."
"they're great but... they're not you."
"I always thought it would be me and you in the end."
"you're not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?"
"if you hate me so much, how come you keep coming back?"
"do you remember getting drunk and calling me last night?"
"I'm free tonight if you still need a date for that thing you're going to."
"I'd do anything for you."
"I think I finally get what all those love songs are about."
"it's weird being here again... so many memories."
"I wish you'd give me a chance."
"I never meant to hurt you."
"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird."
"seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me."
"just ask yourself for once: what do you want?"
"okay, okay, I'll leave-- as soon as I can find my pants."
"we need to be more careful next time."
"wait, why are you in my bed? did we...?"
"I took you for granted, I know. but I want to treat you right this time."
"kiss me like you mean it."
"keep the lights on, I want to see you."
"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"
"we promised we wouldn't let this affect our friendship."
"no, don't cry-- if you start crying, I'll start crying!"
"I want to see my marks on you tomorrow."
"don't act innocent, it's not going to work with me."
"is this really turning you on? I'm not even doing anything."
"come look at the stars with me."
"I lov--" "no, don't say anything. you'll kill the moment."
"what happens next in your fantasy?"
"I probably shouldn't tell you this but... you were in my dream last night."
"why do you still wear the hoodie I left at your place?"
1K notes · View notes
julesinsummer · 2 months
Note
I loved your fic about Theo getting upset because the readers' parents said they couldn't go to Italy for the summer. I was wondering if you could do something similar. The reader says she's not allowed to stay with him for the summer, but theo trys to convince readers mom to let them go to Italy, but he finds out that her parents said she could go. And Theo confronts the reader.
I don't know. I thought it could be a cute angst/fluff fic I've never requested before, but I love your writing, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Thanks:)
Little Lies (Theodore Nott x Reader)
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angst&fluff, happy ending | requested!
"Theo, they said no, I really can't argue with that," y/n sighed as she closed the book she was reading.
Theo groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Let me talk to them, then," he tried, "they love me! They'll listen to me, won't they?"
Panic surged through y/n's body at the mention of Theo talking to her parents. "It'll just make them mad at me! It's just not happening, I'm sorry my love."
The truth lay beneath her panic-stricken words: she hadn't even asked her parents. Truth be told, they'd say yes immediately if she had asked. It was no secret that y/n's parents adored Theo and would do anything if it meant that the two would stay together long enough to breach the topic of marriage.
y/n hadn't mentioned going to Italy for the summer with Theodore for one simple reason: Theodore Nott Sr.
Nott Sr. was an imposing man with strict ideals and rules and little to no morality. He scared everyone that he came in contact with, especially his only son and heir's girlfriend. He was often controlling and angry, with yelling and cursing being his most used vocabulary. Theo loved to hate his father and hated to love him, but by way of only having a father his teenage life, he'd come to respect him for what he could do.
y/n was not so lucky. She was a stranger to the violence that unfolded in Nott Manor, to the hurt that a father could cause his only son. It was impossible to watch when Theo would appear perfectly groomed and poised, all the while hiding the bruises and scars that lay just below his collar. It broke y/n's heart to pieces, and she refused to house herself under that roof for an entire summer's break.
But she couldn't tell Theo that. Perfect, poised, handsome, loving Theo who only wanted her, his source of comfort, to be with him in a picturesque setting.
So instead, she lied. And as everyone says, lies cannot be kept forever.
y/n's parents had invited Theo for dinner the next night at their manor, reveling in the laughter that ensued from his witty jokes and ignoring his blatant hand on their daughter's thigh.
"I did want to ask you something, Mr. l/n," Theo said softly as dinner winded down. A sick feeling invaded y/n's stomach, with its only visible traces being the red color that latched itself onto her neck.
The older man nodded, "Anything, my boy. What is it?"
Theo shot Mr. l/n a smile, one that he'd learned almost exclusively from the business dealings of his father. "My father and I would be overjoyed if y/n could join us this summer at our home in Italy. It's in Rome, near the city center. He wanted me to extend the invitation to her. Would that be alright?"
Time seemed to slow to a grinding halt. y/n was sweating, her hands shaking as she clasped her glass and avoided the eyes of her parents.
"Of course, of course!" Mrs. l/n replied for her husband, grinning widely at Theo. "I'm sure she'd love to as well, wouldn't you dear? And that just means that we can have a child-free summer of our own!"
Theo's eyes dropped onto y/n with such sadness and frustration that it made her skin crawl. She saw the disappointment under his features, trying desperately to escape his gaze. She only managed a nod.
With a few more pleasantries, dinner concluded and y/n and Theo were free to escape to her bedroom. Once the door had closed, Theo scoffed loudly.
"What was that all about?" he asked angrily, his face turning a pinker hue than normal. He was angry, that much was clear.
"I... I'm sorry," y/n managed, dropping her head low. She fidgeted with the rings on her hand, half of which Theo had gifted her.
Theo scoffed again. "You're sorry? I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation! You told me they said no!"
y/n sighed loudly, dropping to sit on her bed with her head in her hands. "I never asked," she admitted softly.
"You never asked?" Theo had begun to yell, quickly casting a muffliato charm on the room. "y/n, I asked you about this months ago and you said they told you no! Why did you lie to me?"
"I had a good reason, Theo! Okay?" y/n shouted back, tears springing from her eyes. She and Theo never argued, but when they did, it was awful and hurtful.
"Oh good, I'd love to hear what a good fucking reason you have for making me look like an idiot with your parents! Or for lying straight to my face for months!" He was screaming now, fisting at his hair and coming closer to y/n.
She flinched a little at the action, staring up at Theo intensely. "You'll just get mad at me again if I tell you, so what's the point? I'll go, okay! I'll spend the whole summer with you and your asshole father and be uncomfortable for months!"
Theo paused at that, the room going deathly silent. "Uncomfortable? You're uncomfortable spending your summer with your boyfriend who has told you so many times that he wants to fucking marry you? What, are you going to be so uncomfortable at the thought of spending time with me that you'll tell me no?" His tone got angrier with every word.
"I'm not uncomfortable because of you, you asshole!" y/n shouted, standing up suddenly. She and Theo were close and the anger radiating off of them was palpable. "I'm uncomfortable because your dad is a fucking sadist and wants everyone around him to hurt! I don't want to watch you get beaten for existing for months, Teddy! I can't do that! And if you don't understand that or if you don't think it's a good reason to say no, then I don't know what planet you live on."
They were close, close enough to make one wrong move and end up completely engulfed with one another. Theo was the first to speak.
"And you couldn't have told me that in the first place instead of lying to my face, y/n/n?" he asked softly, his anger dissipating by the second. "You don't think you can talk to me about that?"
y/n let the tears fall freely down her cheeks. "You wouldn't have listened to me, just like you're not listening now! I'm sorry I lied to you, honey, I am. But you never listen when I tell you that I hate your father."
Theo stayed silent for a while, his eyes indicating that he was lost inside his own head. He finally moved after what seemed like an eternity, wiping the tears off of y/n's cheeks with a soft brush of his thumbs.
"I'm sorry, amore mio," he apologized softly, moving his hands to tangle in her hair. "I... I didn't think about it."
y/n sobbed a little, nuzzling into his touch. "You never do."
Theo nodded sadly, resting his forehead on hers. "You don't have to come," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "I should've thought of you first."
y/n shook her head slightly, sniffling. "I just don't want to see you hurt or getting hurt or anything but happy. He makes you miserable."
"I'll figure it out," Theo replied softly, kissing y/n's head. "I'll figure it out."
"He sucks, you know that?" y/n asked with a small, humorless laugh. "If he wasn't there, I'd go. If he wasn't involved, I'd go anywhere you asked me to."
Theo nodded, looking into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered, meeting their lips into a passionate, emotional kiss. "I'll figure it out, I promise. I'm sorry for yelling at you."
y/n pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I shouldn't have lied to you."
"If I can convince him to not go... would you come?" Theo asked, hugging her tighter. "I can figure it out."
y/n nodded, pulling back just enough to see his face. He had that determined look that he sported on occasion, like when he played quidditch, or when he was working on an assignment. "I'd go anywhere with you and only you."
Theo nodded silently, kissing y/n again, this time as a promise. "It'll be done. And no more little lies."
"No more little lies," y/n agreed, pulling them both down on her bed.
-
i hope you liked it!! as always, requests are open!
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ashtxrie · 4 days
Text
submitted 11:59 pm
— alternatively, enhypen maknaes as your typical high school crush!
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PAIR. high school! enhypen maknaes x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. fluff, high school au, bullet points WORD COUNT. 1.8k total HYUNG LINE VER.
김선우 — kim sunoo
candy hearts, spotify playlists, good morning texts, easy laughter, crescent smiles
in high school, sunoo's known as being super friendly and sociable
and because of that, he has a ton of friends
like he basically knows everyone
you and sunoo have definitely talked before, and you may have had a teensy tiny crush on him from your... downward of five interactions
he's kind of like your hallway crush!
however, you DON'T know that he has had a crush on you for FOREVER
like a MASSIVE one! SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL
and his friends are SICK AND TIRED of hearing about it
man's dedicated because he really saw you in every single one of your phases and STILL decides to like you. he's a real one
he's so whipped like he's hitting up the group chat (named "en- gang" by riki btw) at 1 in the morning being like
"GUESS WHAT?!!! she smiled at me today ☺️ i forgot to tell you all"
everyone is so done
"did you talk to her though"
"NO. i'm getting there"
"all you did was make eye contact for the past month be srs rn"
so one day jay and jungwon (your mutual friends), who were in the same english class as you both, were feeling DEVIOUS
it was the fall semester final project, and it was supposed to be worked on in teams of 2 to 3
"bro you are NOT working on it with us the love of your life is literally RIGHT there"
jay and jungwon took matters into their own hands and forcefully excluded sunoo ("you guys are so fake")
so now, with no other option, he had to approach you!
"do you have a group already? if not, we could work together?"
wait wtf he didn't say that
hey....
it was YOU???
you approached him first??? he was SHOCKED
tried to play it cool but his smile gave away how happy he was
"yes!!!! let's work together!!!!! :)"
the project actually went so well he has literally never been happier typing away on that document every night
updates the group chat periodically too
"when we were working on the google doc at 2 am in the morning our cursors went over each other’s & it was like we were holding hands :>>"
"how do i unsubscribe"
"you're just mad because you've never been in love <333"
secretly sunoo's thanking his friends though because now you guys are basically close friends!
while doing the project together you started talking about school, friends, life, and everything in between
talking with you just seemed so natural, and sunoo wonders why he was so afraid of it before
i'd like to think that with you, sunoo doesn't feel the need to always put on the bubbly and outgoing side of him
sometimes, he can just be quiet and calm sunoo with you, and the silence feels so comfortable and safe
you start hanging out more and more, and soon you've met so many people through sunoo that they think of you whenever they think of him too
it's like a package deal!
throughout this time he's still madly in love with you btw
he just wants to take things slow! he didn't want to scare you away or anything
and yes, the gc is STILL getting their daily sunooyn Down Bad News Network
"today during lunch she gave me a yakult bottle, i think she’s starting to like me back! :D"
he does Not know you've liked him all this time
the mutual pining is crazy
he (finally) confesses after a whole YEAR
he's super nervous about it, has possible plan b's scripted and sat through 30 minutes of youtube subliminal audios the day before for extra good luck
after he says his whole heartfelt confession, he gives you this handwritten letter with all of his favorite moments with you in the past year, complete with spotify codes next to each one that links to a specific song he thought of at the time
you teared up a bit because oh my gosh it was so cute he was so cute and your heart just melted
you told him you've liked him since forever too and he was FLABBERGASTED
you both also reveal that you've BOTH had hidden spotify playlists dedicated for each other???
let's just say that even years later, the 'en- gang' group chat would NEVER let sunoo live down his digital footprint
양정원 — yang jungwon
strawberries, honors classes, coming of age, familiarity, inside jokes, paper rings
your childhood best friend
who just so happens to also be mr student council president, king of extracurriculars, resident academic powerhouse
and also a LITTLE SHIT about it
since elementary school, you've got some friendly (and not-so-friendly) rivalry going on
"we both know who’s going to get the higher score for this chem final” 
“yeah, and it’s going to be me”
“NAH” 
but the drive you get from the competition is really what brought you guys together
it's what keeps you motivated, it's what keeps you going
and he's funny! (though you'd never admit it)
because yes, you're both trying to beat each other for the top spot in class rank
but you also get each other
you've been study buddies since the beginning of time, and he keeps the two of you accountable
sometimes he's TOO responsible
"jungwon don't let the pomodoro timer dictate you life can we PLEASE take a snack break right nowww"
"we literally did that FIVE MINUTES AGO"
outside of studying he's really chill though
one summer he started to get really into alchemy of souls and you binged the series twice together, effectively destroying both of your sleep schedules right before school started
he just loves existing in the same space as you tbh
definitely loves calling you for hours during the school year, whether to review for an upcoming exam or to just have the two of you do your own things while connected on the phone
it's pretty common for the two of you to fall asleep while on call with one another
late night yapping sessions (hello??? his weverse addiction??)
he feels like he can just let his responsibilities go and you're the only person who really understands him and everything he does and why he does it
lowkey.... he also just wants to make you proud :(
he was so happy that one time you offhandedly mentioned how you've seen and appreciated all the hard work he was putting in for one of the school events
when he eventually confessed to you, everything just made sense
like the way your eyes always lingered on his bright smile when he showed up on your doorstep at the crack of dawn
and how even when you tease each other, you never miss how he would reach for your hand with his own before retracting it hurriedly as if changing his mind
now, oh he just makes you feel so loved
texts you at random times of the day just because, sending you the most random images and captioning them with "us"
he's still got the silliness in him though!
"i want to try every strawberry with chocolate combination with you <333"
西村力 — nishimura riki
neon lights, school dances, sunglasses, finger guns, playful banter, shared hoodies
honestly he's just at school for the vibes
however, he DID take homecoming very seriously
with one goal in mind: to DOMINATE the dance floor
and dominate he did.
he partied in the USA so hard that by the end of the night, everyone was talking about that freshman who left everyone speechless at a HIGH SCHOOL DANCE
among those witnesses of how riki out-danced the entire school population, were you
and you thought he was literally the coolest person ever
fast forward two years, and you're a junior now
it's all good! you've definitely outgrown your month-long admiration of the Guy From Hoco
but yo what guess who sits right next to your seat in class???
it's the Guy From Hoco himself
honestly, you're a pretty chill person so you turned to him and were like "hey aren't you that guy that got famous back during hoco freshman year?"
but now? he’s EMBARRASSED to admit it
"oh uhhh that wasn't me haha"
boy bffr you would know his face anywhere
you kind of gave him a questioning look and shrugged
"oh well, i thought it was really cool though"
he instantly backtracks, because you thought it was cool and NOT an aura loss????
"wait i think i remember now haha that WAS me!!!"
you guys match energy so well tbh
he started to catch feelings for you because of how funny you were and how you two just clicked, but he was stuck in denial FOREVER
"I DON'T CHASE I ATTRACT" (desperate)
heeseung also tried to give him "rizz counseling" but that just ended up with them both saying "mb gang" at everything
which was..... not very rizzy!
you had convinced him to audition for the competition dance team at your school, which he obviously made
he texted you the day he got in too, typing in all caps in everything which he NEVER does
"why would you scream about things in caps lock when you can be cool and nonchalant" YEAH SURE RIKI
updated all his social media bios to @[school]varsitydanceteam the moment he got the acceptance notif
“[name] is my instagram bio tuff”
“WHY ARE U ALR PUTTING IT IN YOUR BIO"
"because i’m committed and it lets them know i’m part of a professional community"
(heeseung told him that it would show his commitment to the sport and thus his potential to commit to you.)
at this point, riki was ready to fire heeseung and switch to jake as his ghostwriter 💀
but little did he know, you started liking him too once you saw how genuinely hardworking he was when he has a goal
like those hours he spent on call with you asking if you thought this one move was clean enough?? he really put in his all (he also wanted to impress you)
you kind of had the idea that he liked you back, because let's be honest he was being a bit obvious about it
the way he almost choked when you hugged him congratulations??? he looked DAZED for a whole hour
you had to confess to riki because his heejake rizz courses consisted mainly of heeseung and jake arguing about whose approach was better
even when you two became a couple, you still had teasing as a love language LMAO
"HAHA 🫵🫵 YOU'RE SO SHORT i still love you though <3"
it's just how he shows his love, but he also loves draping his arm across your shoulders when walking around
made sure to emphasize to heeseung and jake that this was all his doing and they did not help him at ALL
but let's be real, YOU were the rizziest of them all
and riki agrees <3
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TAGLIST : @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia @asteria-wood
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hoseoksluna · 2 months
Text
VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc 
genre: smut
word count: 9.9k
summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.
pinterest board: vapor
warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(
note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3
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Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb. 
Still can’t. 
He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air. 
The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.
It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all. 
And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point. 
This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you. 
Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.
The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels. 
It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes. 
Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing? 
He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day. 
You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream. 
“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones. 
The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them. 
“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully. 
You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows. 
You. 
“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention. 
“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable. 
If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust. 
He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you. 
“Your nose first, then your dick.” 
It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him. 
And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled. 
It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power. 
He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind. 
And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden. 
Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over. 
“Spank me.” 
Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes. 
“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.” 
The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.
Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation. 
“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.” 
He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs. 
Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms. 
And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this. 
Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either. 
Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?” 
Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth. 
You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being. 
And along with your submission come out your words. 
In perfect fashion.
“No, I want to suck you off.” 
And along with those your orgasm, too. 
Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again. 
Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.
You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging. 
In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk. 
“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.” 
You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him. 
And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.
“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it. 
But he wants you to come like this, too.
“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.” 
You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue. 
A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name. 
And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you. 
“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.” 
You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary. 
Or at least he thought so. 
“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.” 
Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.  
“Is that so?” 
You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin. 
He might just give you a taste of it now. 
It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love. 
Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently. 
It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out. 
“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.” 
The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation. 
“Oh, fuck yes.” 
He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.
At your ever persisting service. Eternal. 
Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears. 
He hears your phone ring. 
His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right. 
“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.” 
Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you. 
It doesn’t lessen his fire, though. 
“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.” 
His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in. 
You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.” 
You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers. 
Your legs begin to shake. 
Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?” 
“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.” 
Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm. 
“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face. 
He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back. 
“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”
The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.
And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies. 
And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care. 
He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it. 
Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist. 
It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door. 
His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of. 
It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend. 
An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him. 
Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through. 
Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling. 
“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate. 
“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.
“Do you think the water is cold?” 
Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one. 
Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest. 
“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.” 
Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you. 
“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.” 
A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat. 
A hunger for a cigarette. 
He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because. 
“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.” 
You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony. 
And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you. 
He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it. 
And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem. 
Something in his pants. 
And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones. 
His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it. 
Perhaps, it truly does. 
“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?” 
You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.
A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.   
“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.” 
Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing. 
“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.” 
Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?” 
It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip. 
Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.” 
He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down. 
You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly. 
He’s about to find out. 
Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down. 
He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there. 
And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water. 
The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills. 
You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels. 
But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it. 
You asked for it. 
He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him. 
That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles. 
You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top. 
Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations. 
“That’s for me catching you.” 
Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard. 
“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another. 
You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck. 
“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.” 
You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world. 
He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it. 
“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”
It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave. 
“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.” 
He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death. 
When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly. 
“That’s what you get, my love.” 
You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore. 
Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight. 
“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.” 
It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about. 
But he is changing his ways. For you. 
You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting. 
“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away. 
Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this. 
“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.” 
You mewl. “Yes, please.” 
In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume. 
“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.” 
The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster. 
Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks. 
Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard. 
“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.” 
He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.” 
Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home. 
And it begins to rain. 
Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity. 
He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back. 
Not so bare anymore. 
You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him. 
Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure. 
“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.” 
He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.” 
He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later. 
Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached. 
He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself. 
You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso. 
Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it. 
“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.” 
You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.” 
He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless. 
“Then, touch yourself for me.” 
He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal. 
“You have to ride it well, then.” 
You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.” 
“I know you will.” 
Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…
Then, he leaves you to it. 
Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless. 
“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.” 
A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back? 
And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you. 
“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip. 
“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.” 
He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?” 
“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.” 
He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” 
The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds. 
That’s his very fucking undoing. 
Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones. 
And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow. 
He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you. 
“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss. 
He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again. 
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.” 
You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore. 
He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit. 
Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together. 
He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower. 
He tells you of the demon living in his chest. 
“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.” 
You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you. 
He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies. 
And the first shower he shared with you… Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body. 
And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become. 
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It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency. 
He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo. 
“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other. 
Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist. 
Quite literally. 
He’s banging his male therapist.
The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you. 
And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything. 
Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again. 
Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.
And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along. 
He and you. A singularity. 
The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart. 
No third party. 
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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seze
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seze [ˈsɛ.zɛ] n. blue flower
Anonymous Request: Reader confesses her feelings to Ao'nung and he rejects her pretty harshly, and Neteyam comforts her and eventually confesses to her and she realizes her feelings for Neteyam. When it comes time for them to mate before Eywa, Ao’nung regrets rejecting her, but it’s too late.
1,708 words
He looked me right in the eyes as he said it, with no shame, holding back nothing.
"I could never love someone like you."
He didn't yell it, he didn't even use a particularly harsh tone... he said it as if he was commenting that it looked like it might rain. It was a simple fact, and he seemed surprised that it wasn't something I'd considered.
I knew what he meant by 'someone like me'. Someone of little consequence. Someone with no particular or special skills. Someone on the outskirts of the clan, someone no one had ever really noticed.
Someone unimportant.
Though the words knocked the wind out of me, drained the blood from my face and made me feel light headed, all I could do was nod, turn, and walk slowly away.
It had taken weeks to work up the courage to tell Ao'nung how I felt. He had been so kind to me lately... I thought maybe, he felt the way I felt. Now I realized, that was foolish.
I left the beach for the protection of the treelined, and once I was out of sight, I sank to the ground, and let out a painful, low-pitched wail that I felt through my entire body.
The disappointment was hard, but the embarrassment was almost worse. Of course Ao'nung wouldn't be interested in someone like me; he would take a high-born mate, not a fisherman's daughter.
I cried myself to sleep, slumped against a tree, trying to accept my fate.
--
Neteyam noticed a change in Y/N right away. Though she mostly kept to herself, she was always cheerful and happy. He knew Kiri had a particular interest in Y/N, they had become sort of friends, and so she was around his family sometimes.
Something had happened to Y/N about three days ago, but Neteyam didn't know what. Though she was still around, she didn't speak, or smile, or engage hardly at all.
Neteyam asked Kiri what it was, but Kiri just shrugged and told him Y/N hadn't said anything to her.
He thought that was obtuse of Kiri. Hadn't he noticed the change in her friend? She was quiet before - not absolutely silent.
After another day of this, Neteyam could no longer hold his tongue, and when the opportunity presented itself and he found himself alone on the beach with Y/N, who was braiding a fishing net, he decided he had to speak up.
--
Neteyam sat next to me, lifting the net I was working on into his hands. It was small yet, but would be quite large when I was finished.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked.
I glanced over at him and nodded.
"Actually, I wanted to ask... if you're okay?"
My hands, once busy, settled into my lap, gripping the netting tightly. I was not okay, but I couldn't imagine why Neteyam would care. He had never shown any particular interest in me. In fact, no one had, save his sister, but even she hadn't noticed what was going on with me.
Ao'nung was right - I was not lovable.
A tear slipped from my eye, and I brushed it away, hoping Neteyam hadn't noticed.
"I'm fine," I replied.
Neteyam shook his head. "You are crying."
I turned away from him, pulling my knees to my chest. "It doesn't matter, Neteyam. Don't trouble yourself with me."
His warm, strong hand gripped my shoulder, and without thinking, I leaned over, pressing my cheek to his hand. The contact felt so good, and I tried to remember the last time someone had touched me like this... or at all.
"Tell me."
He pulled gently, and I turned to face him. The look on his face was so genuine, so earnest, and so full of concern. For a second, I wondered if he was teasing me. Maybe Ao'nung had told him what happened already, and Neteyam wanted to make fun of me.
That didn't make sense, though. Ao'nung and Neteyam weren't even close to being friends.
So maybe the concern was genuine.
The words spilled out of me then, like vomit, and I couldn't stop them. I told Neteyam about my years-long crush on Ao'nung, how I had pined for him, imagined a life with him, took his kindness to mean something it hadn't meant, and how when I'd told Ao'nung how I'd felt, he made it clear that I was too unimportant for someone like him to ever care about or notice.
I was crying by the end, fat tears rolling down my cheeks and splashing hot onto my lap, but it felt so good to finally tell someone that I didn't care, I couldn't feel embarrassed anymore. I had suffered enough embarrassment to last a lifetime over the past few days; I wanted to be done with that.
When I finished, I furiously wiped the tears from my eyes, and waited for Neteyam's response.
His expression was... angry. His brows furrowed, his mouth pursed, his eyes focused.
"I will kill that moron," he whispered.
I sighed and shook my head. "He doesn't have to love me."
"But he could at least be kind!"
I didn't reply, because I couldn't exactly argue with him.
Neteyam reached out unexpectedly, pulling me to him, wrapping me in a tight hug. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around him, scooting closer, our bodies pressed together.
It felt so comforting, so intimate, so nice to be treated like this and cared about, I would've started crying again if I'd had any tears left.
"Neteyam, thank you," I whispered.
He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. "You are important, Y/N. I have watched you. You are kind and thoughtful. You watch Tuk carefully to ensure she doesn't ever get hurt, you treat Kiri with thoughtfulness and protect her when others treat her like she's different, you even tolerate Lo'ak. I have never met anyone so gentle or caring. That someone could hurt you... it makes me want to kill him, Y/N. He had no right to speak to you that way. You are like... you are like a flower, with soft petals. You should be protected, given water and sun, not stomped on."
A flower. This is was nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, and Neteyam was staring into my eyes, so intently. How could someone like him, the son of Taruk Makto, have noticed and felt these things about me?
"Neteyam, I..." I searched my mind for a perfect reply, but could only come up with: "I see you, Neteyam."
"I see you, Y/N."
My lips spread wide in a smile - my first in many days - and Neteyam smiles in return.
--
After that day, Neteyam and I were scarcely ever apart. He became at first, a best friend, my closest confidant, and then naturally, it turned into something more.
There wasn't a moment when I realized it had happened. He just began holding my hand nearly all of the time, guiding me by the small of my back, touching his forehead to mine when we part and finally, one night, he kissed me.
It didn't even shock me. It felt natural, that Neteyam would kiss me. It felt really almost overdue. Neteyam should have been kissing me since the moment we met.
We were completely in step, in sync, together always. Neteyam was meant to be my mate, and I was meant to be his.
He didn't really ask me, formally, to be his mate. He just mentioned once, something about, "when we're mated..." and I agreed.
And the date was set... but we told almost no one, outside of his family and mine. It felt special, secret, just for us.
--
"Kiri says they're very happy," Tsireya told her mother while she chopped fruit. "I think it's nice, that Y/N has found someone. She's always seemed so lonely."
Ronal nodded. "That's good. Good for Y/N. She's a nice girl."
Ao'nung sat across from them, his jaw set in anger. Y/N had done him a kindness by telling no one about his harsh rejection, and he had since realized that.
It wasn't that he didn't like Y/N. He had always thought she was beautiful, and kind, and there was something interesting about her, a quality he hadn't seen in other women in the clan... but no one really knew her, or cared about her. Her parents weren't particularly important to the clan, and neither was she, and Ao'nung thought, as future Ole'eyktan, he should have someone better.
He had come to realize that he had been stupid. Better wasn't more well-known, more talented, more superficial... better was kind, and caring, and someone his mother thought was a 'nice girl'.
"They are to be mated before Ewya," Tsireya said with a blush. "They don't plan to make a ceremony of it, just the two of them."
Ronal smiled. "Beautiful."
Ao'nung sat, simmering in anger at the chance he had lost, thinking of how Neteyam had almost beat him senseless when he found out how Ao'nung had treated Y/N.
He knew now, he deserved it, and he'd missed his chance.
--
When Ao'nung had told me he could never love me, it had seemed like the end of my life. It made me feel stupid, and worthless, and ugly. I hadn't thought I'd ever recover.
Then, Neteyam breathed new life into me. He didn't have to, but he did, and he kept doing it, every single day since then.
We emerged from the water, Neteyam breathless, chest heaving, my mate before Ewya.
He pulled me into his arms once more, pressing a desperate kiss to my lips, holding my face in his hands, then wrapping his arms around my waist.
"I love you," he whispered over and over between kisses, and I thought I could cry with gratefulness and joy.
"I love you, Ma Neteyam," I replied. I pulled away, just for a moment, to smile at him. "Thank you."
He pushed the wet hair from my face. "My flower," he said with a soft smile, as he so often did.
The sting of rejection was long behind me, replaced by enough joy to last a lifetime.
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me-loving-woso · 25 days
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The day after tomorrow
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As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow
As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.
**Y/n**: Are you home?
**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?
**Y/n:** Open the door.
You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.
"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.
"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.
"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"
She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.
"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.
"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"
"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"
"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."
A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"
"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."
"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.
"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”
She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.
"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.
"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.
She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.
When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.
She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.
"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."
"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.
After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.
"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.
You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.
"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.
"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.
"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.
"I'm the lucky one, believe me."
That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.
In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.
--
--
The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.
Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.
As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.
"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.
"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.
"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.
"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.
"I know, right!"
His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.
"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.
"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.
"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.
"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.
"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.
"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."
-
During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.
"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.
"No particular reason," Aitana lied.
"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.
"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.
"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.
"She is."
"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.
"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.
"You never hang out with us anymore!"
"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"
"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.
"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.
-
After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.
"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.
"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.
"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.
"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.
"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.
"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.
"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.
"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.
"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.
"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.
"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.
"You love it," she retorts.
"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."
-
As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.
"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.
"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.
"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.
"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"
"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."
"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."
"They can be a lot," she warns you.
"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.
"It's not my business to say."
"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.
"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"
"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.
"So it's a yes?"
"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.
-
-
Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.
You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.
"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.
"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.
You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.
She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
"What's the plan for today?" she asked.
"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.
"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.
"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.
"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."
"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.
"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.
"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."
"A kitten?" she suggested.
"Even worse."
"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.
"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.
"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."
"Aitana," you warned her.
"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.
"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.
Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.
-
After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.
As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened. 
“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.
“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.
After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”
You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.
“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.
“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.
Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. “Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.
“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”
“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”
“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”
“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.
“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana
“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.
“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.
-
After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.
You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.
As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised. 
Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”
“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.
“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”
“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.
“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.” 
“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.
“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think. 
“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”
“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.
“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”
You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”
“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”
You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it. 
“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.
“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.
“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.
Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.
Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.
You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.
“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.
Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.
“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.
“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.
“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,”  you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.
“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.
“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.
She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.
You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.
After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.
“What?”
“Can I feel it?” she asks.
“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.
“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.
“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.
“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”
You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.
“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.
“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.
“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”
You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”
“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”
You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.
“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”
You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.
She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”
You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”
“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”
You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.
You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.
You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.
-
It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.
“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.
“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.
“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.
“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.
“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.
“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.
“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.
“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”
Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”
The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”
Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”
Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”
-
As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.
“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.
“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.
You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”
“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.
“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”
“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”
You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”
“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”
You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”
Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”
You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”
Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.
You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.
“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”
“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.
You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”
Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.
“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.
Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.
Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”
Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”
“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.
“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.
-
Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.
He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"
You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.
"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."
You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."
"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.
"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.
Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."
Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."
"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."
Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.
As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."
You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."
You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.
Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.
“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.
You turned to her. “That’s me.”
“I’m Alexia.”
"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."
“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.
You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.
"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."
You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."
Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"
You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."
She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."
Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."
Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."
You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."
The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.
"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."
You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.
“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”
You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.
Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.
“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.
She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”
“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.
She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.
"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.
Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."
The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.
The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.
“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”
You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”
“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”
You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”
Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.
"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.
"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."
"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."
"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."
The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.
As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.
“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”
You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”
She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”
“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”
Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”
The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.
After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.
You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.
After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.
“What?”
“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.
“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.
“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”
You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.
You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate. 
Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.
You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.
Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”
You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”
Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”
Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”
You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.
“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.
“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”
“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”
“What about your third?”
“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.
“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.
“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.
“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”
Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.
Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”
As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.
She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.
-
Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.
Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.
“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”
You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.
“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”
You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.
“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”
Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.
You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”
“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training. 
Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.
You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”
“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.
You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.
“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”
“Anytime you like.”
“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.
You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.
She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”
“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”
“And the other?” she asked, defeated.
“I might lose my voice.”
Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”
“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”
“Anything,” she said seriously.
"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"
She blinked, taken aback. "What?"
"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."
"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"
You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"
"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."
"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.
She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"
You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.
"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."
"I know, but what about your needs?"
"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"
"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."
"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"
"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.
Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek. 
"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."
You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.
"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.
-
-
On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in. 
You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.
"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."
"You’ll tell me when I get back."
"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."
"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips. 
"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”
--
Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.
"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.
Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."
Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."
Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."
As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.
When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”
Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.
She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona.
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idleoblivion · 1 month
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"Hey Man I Love You, But No Fucking Way" Jamil Viper x GN Reader
Synopsis: The time has finally come for you to leave, but he isn't ready to lose you. Surely you'll hear him out, right?
Word count: ~900
A/N: I usually prefer fluff but thought I'd experiment with a little angst, though I don't think it's too intense. Never written any kind of yandere stuff before so sorry if it's tame.
Warnings: angst, yandere Jamil
This day was bound to come. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. That didn’t make it any easier for him, though. 
He knew you had started bugging Crowley harder about going home after the second overblot. And harder again after the third, then his, and so on. He wanted to meddle, but Kalim kept him busy. Plus, his faith in Crowley was so low he thought he’d have more time. Time to win you over, time to convince you that your place was with him. And he had made progress, you two had become very close despite what went down in Scarabia over the holiday. But the time for you to go had come regardless. 
He knew you had people you missed and places you still wanted to see. He knew that at the end of the day, no matter how much he’d grown to like your presence, you were not meant to be in Twisted Wonderland. 
But he still held onto that naive hope he had that you would hear him out tonight. Perhaps too tightly.
“You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”
“I do.” You answer almost emotionlessly.
“Then… then please-” “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me. Don’t do that.”
He should’ve stopped there, but he couldn’t. If there was any chance of you staying with him, he had to fight for it. So he kept going.
“Please… you don’t know what my life was like before you. Please don’t leave me like this.”
You don’t say anything back. He could already feel himself unraveling, but tried to hold it together the best he could. 
“You’re the only person I can be myself around. You’re the only person who I can show what I’m actually capable of, the only-” “Jamil, you need to stop this. Now.”
“I love you.” He admits with desperation. “I love you, please, you can’t leave me like this. I’ll never…” he trails off, holding back tears.
“I love you too, Jamil…” You sigh deeply.
“Just not enough to stay?” He snaps without thinking. The look on your face immediately tells him that was the wrong thing to say. “How fucking dare you? You think you’re the only person I’m allowed to care about? I have people that I miss, Jamil. That I’ve been missing. I had a life before this school, sorry that hurts your feelings so badly.” He hadn’t expected you to get so angry with him. 
“I didn’t mean-” “I had a life. A life without magic and overblots. Where I didn’t spend every waking moment waiting for something else bad to happen. Where people didn’t want to fight me just for existing, and I wasn’t almost constantly in some kind of trouble or danger.” You’re crying now too, and you turn your back to him as you continue. “I can’t do it. I can’t stay. There’s nothing good for me here.” “What…what can I do? There’s has to be something I can do-” “No, there isn’t. I’m leaving tomorrow and that’s that. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”
“I…I told you, I love you!” “And I told you I love you, but I can’t do this for you!” You wipe your face as you turn to face him again. “You think I’m happy about leaving you? Of course I’m not! But I’m not going to suffer here for your sake. I have to do this, for me. Why can’t you understand that?!”
And in that moment, he finally did understand. You didn’t want to hurt him. You weren’t trying to, you just needed to look out for yourself. He couldn’t blame you for that. You said you loved him, and he believed you. He watches you sniffle in front of him and put your face in your hands. He feels remorse for how this world has treated you, and guilt for not getting what you really meant at first. Yes, he understands perfectly. 
It was the rest of the world that was the problem. You could be happy in Twisted Wonderland, you just didn’t know it. With Crowley and overblots and other stress always wearing you down, of course you didn’t think you could stay. If you were constantly hurting, how could he expect you to?
But, why hadn’t you just said that from the start? If you knew how much you meant to him, didn’t you also know just how far he’d go for you? The mountains he would make move? The people he’d dispose of? Wouldn’t you do the same for him?
Of course, you would never have to do the same for him. He would do everything, take care of everything. Nothing would keep you two from each other. All you had to do was be with him and be happy. He could make that happen, he was sure of it.
He decides that those kinds of plans don’t matter right now, though. What matters most is that you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, and he isn’t going to let you.
“Look at me.” “Jamil, I’m done with this. I-”
“I get that, okay? Just…please, look at me one more time.” He was pleading, and his voice sounded so terribly dejected. You sigh again. You lift your head up from your hands and meet his eyes.
“I told you, I’m sorry. I really am. I-” “Snake Whisper. Follow me. You’re not going through that mirror.”
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voonroo · 5 months
Text
Hell? [01]
⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader
Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎
Want to chat? Check out my discord server↩︎
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝
Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.
I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!
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My head hurts…
Am I lying down?
Is it raining?
Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.
You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?
Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.
The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…
A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.
“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.
“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.
“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.
Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.
“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.
“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-
“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.
You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.
“What's your name?”
“I don't… I don't know?”
The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.
Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.
Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.
You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…
You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.
Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.
“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”
The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.
The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.
Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.
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Word Count: 817
A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!
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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months
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hate to remember you like this
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'angst with a happy ending' rated m wc: 1000 cw: mention of car accident, medical emergency, temporary amnesia tags: post-break up, assumed unrequited feelings, getting back together
------------------------------
"Eddie, it's Steve."
Robin's words echoed in his head as he boarded the plane.
He left Steve three years ago because Steve told him to go, told him that if his dreams were so big that he couldn't stay then he had to leave and not come back.
Steve refused to talk to him since, refused to visit when all the kids came to his shows, refused to show up to Christmas at Wayne's.
So he shouldn't be on this flight to see Steve.
But Robin had insisted that Steve asked for him, and Eddie couldn't ignore the immediate need to be there for him.
Despite time, distance, and the constant feelings of regret mixed with heartbreak and anger, he still only wanted Steve.
He didn't know what happened, just that Steve had been in a medically induced coma for over 24 hours and the moment he woke up, he was begging for someone to get Eddie.
Robin had mentioned that he didn't seem to have all of his memories, but didn't tell him any details on which memories he may be missing.
He sat in his seat and hoped that whatever he was walking into would be closure for his heart.
--------------------------------
The kids were all sitting in the waiting room when he arrived at the hospital.
The moment Will saw him, hell broke loose.
"Who called you?" he asked.
"Robin. Are they letting people back?" Eddie asked.
"You shouldn't be here," Will said.
Eddie looked at his stance and couldn't help but smile. Will had grown incredibly protective of Steve after Eddie left, much to everyone's surprise.
"He asked for me. I promised I'd come if he ever needed me."
Everyone was quiet for a moment.
"Room 186. He was awake a little while ago, but they're only letting two people in at a time and Robin and Joyce have been with him for the last hour."
"Thanks."
Room 186 wasn't far down the hall. He could hear Joyce's motherly tone fussing while Robin sounded like she was rambling to herself.
When he walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat.
Steve was bruised, and half of his head was wrapped in bandages that looked like they needed to be changed.
But he gave Eddie a soft smile.
A smile he didn't deserve.
"Baby, tell Joyce to stop worrying herself to death over me. I'm fine."
Baby.
Robin and Joyce glanced over at Eddie, waiting for his reaction.
"I got it from here, Joyce," Eddie smiled at her and Robin, understanding coming over him swiftly.
"Alright, Eddie's got ya for a bit, but I'll be in the waiting room if you need me," Robin said, patting Steve's hand.
She gave Eddie a death glare on her way out of the room, silently suggesting that he would need a room at the hospital if he dared to hurt Steve in any way.
He sat down next to Steve, taking in his injuries.
"What took you so long?" Steve asked him, pouting slightly.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Got caught up with the band."
"But it's Wednesday. You don't have practice on Wednesdays."
Eddie sighed.
"Stevie, what year is it?" Had no one checked him for a concussion at any point in the last 12 hours?
"1988."
"It's 1991. You remember my band made it?" Eddie was going to get murdered by Robin for ruining whatever fantasy Steve's mind had settled on.
"What? But-" Steve's brows drew together as he tried to work through his own thoughts and memories. "You guys made it?"
"Yeah, we did."
They sat in silence while Steve processed.
Eddie felt the moment his memory started to come back, the room suddenly going cold.
"You left."
"Steve-"
"You left me," his voice broke, much like it had the night he screamed at Eddie as he walked out the door.
"I did."
"Why'd you come?"
"You asked me to. I'll always come when you ask."
Steve looked at him, his eyes heavy from whatever cocktail of drugs were flowing through his system, glassy with unshed tears.
"Then why did you leave?"
"You asked me to."
"I wanted you to stay. I always wanted you to stay."
"I wanted you to come with me."
They were both tense, Eddie's hands curled into fists against his thighs and Steve's body curling in on itself, preparing for a fight Eddie wasn't going to give him.
"I couldn't."
"I know."
"So, you'll leave again and I'll stay?" Steve asked, choking back a wet sound that Eddie recognized as a sob.
"I'll be here as long as you need me."
Steve searched his face.
"Why now?"
"Because you asked. Because I know what it's like to leave you and I know it's not worth missing you." Eddie gulped. "Because I love you too much to walk away from you again. Not unless it's what you want."
"I never want that."
"Then I'll be right here," Eddie reached for his hand, holding it gently in his own.
"You can't, though. You made it, Eds."
"I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Okay?"
Steve stayed silent for a while, but didn't pull his hand away.
"You'll stay while we figure it out?" he finally asked.
"Yeah. As long as it takes."
"Seal it with a kiss?" Steve asked, the way he did when he asked for Eddie to promise that he'd take out the trash, or stop at the store, or love him always.
Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's.
Steve smiled as he pulled away.
"First thing to figure out: a new car."
"You totaled it?"
"She was good to me for so long. Unfortunately, she took things worse than I did."
Hard to believe looking at how swollen and bruised most of Steve was.
But they sat and talked through his plans for another car, something he could take on longer road trips to visit all the kids at school, see a few of Eddie's shows.
They'd figure it out.
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