#popped in my head immediately after reading your ask. When the golden opportunity comes to make a meme... you make a meme

[alltimefail-sims]

I would be verry excited to see an Alex Goth edit, but why does your heart hurt thinking about it? That concerns me（／_＼）

You must be new here 😂

[tamat3v]

req: hey mate sorry to like probably ruin your reputation here but can i request pseudo-incest dabi with like overstimulation and sadomasochism?

❥• this was from my other acc, this req has been sitting and rotting for m o n t h s, i added my own twists and tweaks here and there [nah like actually a lot💔💔 the main kinks in highlight are still overstim and sadomasochism(ish for this one) so it’s not too bad] so i hope it is enjoyed. coming up with a title for this was living hell so i’ll figure it out later 🚶🏾

w/c: none, cus i’m trying straight up on tumblr, so help me god but it’s a pretty decent reading length i suppose

Touya hated you- despised you for the very fact you walked the earth in his lifetime. You were the most cherished one, the sun of your parents and he was the other one, who’s name was apparently so unspeakable because he was the disappointment. He hated you, did everything in his power to show his mom and your dad that you were no good. He knew what you were, he heard all of those girls and boys screaming as you basically pounded them into your mattress every other night. Only he knew how you toyed with and threw away each and every single one of them after you had your fun and gotten your dick wet enough for the week.

Touya curses the ground you walk on. He abhors you so, then why is it that this time he’s slumped against his bed? Hearing the girl cry and you pant with his pants feeling too tight? Why, god tell him why he walked into the room, acting like it was a mistake. Why he screamed at the girl to get lost and it was a sight to behold, how she scrambled for her clothes and flew out the door like a hurricane.

You were seeing red at this point. You’d finally convinced her to get into your bed and that god forsaken raven head had to step in a mess up. You were livid, shirt crumpled slightly and raised up as you flung the other onto the bed, hand wrapped around his throat dangerously with ill intentions which pinned him flat to the bed and all he could do was struggle. “Touya, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Touya couldn’t tell you the answer but how he wondered the same thing. No normal person would like being brutally tossed to the bed, being choked heavy with all rage- which was absolutely deserved. The crown of the pile of issues was that his hard on was furious in his pants, straining against the fabric. This is wrong, all so wrong. You were brothers for goodness’ sake, you could literally kill him for goodness’ sake yet he liked the hurt and he wanted you even more. He tried to speak out but his words died long before in his throat all he could let out was a weak, failing sound- so pathetic. You were so sour at the pitiful face he was making but it soon turned into a bitter smile on your face. As much as you wanted to thrash him for butting in and stepping far out of line, you would just rock his shit differently.

Because little did he know that you knew what he did. Unlike your parents, you heard him beating his pathetic, weeping cock and mewling at the dead of night to his own step-brother. You had seen his book, pages filled with the most obscene and perverse desires and fantasies he had and you knew from that day on he was far worse than you would ever be. Something about that cruel upper hand you had over him just made your stomach twist and all the right ways, who were you to not use this golden opportunity that fate had dealt you?

“You know, Dabi, I’ve read that book of yours.” He immediately sprung to life, eyes popping out their sockets. “_____, I can explain, it’s really not what you think it is-“ There it was. You dropped one harsh and heavy handed slap on his cheek with no hesitation and he was silent, effective immediately. “I don’t remember asking you to talk, Touya-kun. I read each and ever single one of those pages. You’re so sick, you know that?” you spat, tone seething and acidic. “‘Bet you liked that slap, didn’t you? Being pressed up underneath me like this? I know who you are, Touya: a perverted whore.”

Oh how he was shaking under you, legs turning inwards with his thighs pressed so cutely together to quell the sweltering heat in his pants. He was dripping, tip pumping up those sinful tears non stop ‘till it was so sticky. Touya’s brain had switched off, eyes unfocused on you but a sharp slap to his thigh, right next to the throbbing hardness brought him back whimpering. You finally released his throat, purpled bruise marks adorning his skin as he choked in air, just for it to be knocked out of his chest when you flipped him onto his back.

“From now on until I decide I’m done with you, you have no say. Shut up and take it like the slut you are. I will not listen to you but I don’t think it’s need anyway. I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it like the freak you are.” You weren’t asking, simply stating. You ripped down his stupid, tacky pants and slid in, no warning needed. Touya was undone with that, tears stinging hard, his lower half even harder but he liked the pain- so much that he came immediately, crying out already and you were incredulous at the realization.

You slapped his ass harshly. He didn’t deserve your mercy, not that he wanted it anyways. His dark hair was disheveled as you began hammering into him relentlessly. He cried from the overstimulation- it hurt so good. His body was absolutely shredded and you were far from finished with him- so far from it. His mind was not computing the stimulation, he was numb but felt everything at the same time. Was this an out of body experience because this didn’t feel real at all. He was bordering consciousness when you squeezed another high from his spent body already.

What time was it now? Touya was lost in a different plane when you finally pulled out, daylight peaking through shut blinds and he was limp. He was beyond useless and he- he felt you push in once more and shredded attempt at a scream erupted from his torn up vocal box. “Oh? So you are still awake. You better be, you will take what I give you, Touya.”And you were so pleased with your work, yhe points in which you had hit on his body were bruising, heat still so close to the surface of his skin and it was perfect for you.

[nationalharryleague]

The Busy Bean

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Coworkers to lovers AU

Word count: 5.6K

A/N: Hi all! This is my entry for Sadie’s (@meetmeinfleetwood) To Lovers Fic Challenge!! As always, many thanks to Mia (@hardcandy-harry) and Lu (@meetmymouth​ even tho shes taking a little break lol) for being wonderful betas!! I really love it and I hope you enjoy it too! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think (or anything else lol) in my ask! 

***

The first day at a new job is a universally terrifying experience.

You can’t sleep the night before, head full of nightmare scenarios of evil customers and mean bosses, and a swirl of anxiety continues to bubble in the pit of your stomach, refusing to slow or calm. There's a part of you that prays they will call and tell you that they don’t need your help anymore, despite how bad you need the money. But the call never comes, and the next day you stand in front of the building, desperately trying to take deep breaths and slow your heart rate, bracing yourself for whatever is to come whenever you enter.

This is where Y/N was today, in a mess of shaky palms with slight blue bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard her concealer tried. She stood in front of the large plate glass window of the cafe, sneaking glimpses and trying to prepare herself for whatever awaited before she actually reached to take the door handle. With a glance at her watch that signaled it was time for her to arrive, she took one last deep breath and entered the small but cozy space.

The cafe itself wasn’t open yet, devoid of customers with only a few lights behind the counter on, but it was full of the delightful and familiar smell of coffee that swirled around her head. The wall to her left was an exposed brick that had been painted white with a long table running along it with stools tucked underneath and a long cafe counter ran the length of the shop to her right. The far back wall of the shop was a giant book shelf with books stacked from the bottom of the top, arranged in a rainbow pattern along each shelf. The store was unbearably charming.

“Hello?” she felt herself call out softly into the empty space. Her voice came out slightly timid, her anxious mind not giving her lips full permission to speak.

She listened to a shuffling and a distant voice muttering “shit,” that seemed to be coming from a door that sat behind the counter where the few lights had been turned on. Before long, a man with curly hair popped his head out from the back hallway, giving her a wide dimpled smile. “Just give me a minute!” he said, holding up his pointer finger for a second, before disappearing back into the hall. After a few more moments of shuffling and muffled cursing, he reappeared. His face held the same dimpled grin as before.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, reaching out a hand for her to shake across the counter. “Boss man said you would be starting today.”

“That’s me,” she spoke gently, still apprehensive in the new surroundings. She placed her hand in his and he shook it with a friendliness she hadn’t expected from her first couple minutes in a new work space. His hand was warm and his nails were painted a bright and sunshiny yellow.

“I’m Harry. It’s great to meet you!” His voice was deep, but light and enthusiastic, far too excited for the early morning calm that she had been reveling in on her walk to the shop.

She decided quickly that he looked like a ‘Harry’ and that his name matched his cheerful disposition. His green eyes shined, even in the relatively dim early morning light that illuminated the room through the front window, and they held a disarming and calming quality that slowed her heart rate for the first time since she had woken up.

“You too.” She forced a smile onto her lips, hoping to conceal the first day jitters that ran through her system.

“Don’t worry about your first day,” he read her like a book. “Everyone here is very nice and you have the best trainer in the world.”

“I’m assuming that’s you?” she questioned, letting out a light chuckle.

“Well, of course it is.”

She was slightly taken aback by the peculiar, yet undeniably charming, man that stood across the counter from her. He was dressed in a loose fitting black sweater that looked cozy and soft, paired with wide-legged tan slacks, all covered with a dark green apron that had the cafe’s logo on the chest. The Busy Bean was embroidered in a light yellow sitting above a mug with a bumble bee on it; it was charming and cute, fitting in well with the plethora of plants and flowers that filled the cafe.

He must have noticed her staring at the logo. “You like the name?” he asked her, pointing at the logo that sat on his chest. She nodded softly, a smile finding its way on to her lips. “We’re going to be very busy beans in about,” he paused to check his watch, “thirty minutes when we open. So put this on,” he slid her very own apron across the counter, “and let's get ready.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said they were going to be busy.

While the shop had intentionally started her on a Saturday morning when it was usually a bit slower, the morning rush came in and threw her for a tizzy. She took orders and ran them to tables for what seemed like hours, kept far away from the coffee bar as she was unsure of how to make all of the drinks yet. But thankfully, she wasn’t alone.

Soon after opening, another woman arrived, wearing the same dark green apron that matched Y/N and Harry’s. She had long dark hair that fell to the small of her back and in gentle waves and glowing mocha skin with golden eyes. She introduced herself as Isla, with a warm and friendly smile, and stationed herself behind the counter, making drink after drink that smelled intoxicatingly delicious. Y/N thanked god, or whatever was out there, that she and Harry had someone else to help them out while customers flowed in and out of the shop.

Harry hung by her side for the entirety of the morning rush, carefully watching her every move, and gently redirecting her when she seemed to make a mistake. He was kind and she could tell that he genuinely wanted her to learn, not just to do a job well for efficiency’s sake. There was never a trace of frustration on his features, just patience and good will.

Around noon, the flood of patrons looking for their morning coffee began to slow, finally giving Y/N an opportunity to rest. She flopped herself down on a stool that sat behind the counter and released a long sigh, stretching her neck and slumping her shoulders. She was met by sympathetic giggles coming from her two new co-workers.

“Honey,” Isla began with a hint of pity in her voice, “that was nothing.”

“What did I get myself into?” Y/N chuckled through a groan, putting her face in her hands out of exhaustion.

“I promise it gets easier,” Harry chimed in, always one to calm someone’s anxieties. “You just need to get into the swing of things.”

“What I need to do is learn how to make all the fancy coffees that people keep asking me for,” she said, peeking through her fingers at her still amused coworkers.

A look was passed between the two of them, Isla eventually moving out of the way and motioning for Harry to take over the coffee bar. “Come on Baby Barista, lets teach you some of the basics.”

His nickname for her made her release a loud laugh, immediately stifling it to a few giggles when she realized she had caused a few patrons to look up and over at her. Her cheeks warmed instantly, embarrassed for disturbing them, and she added another item to the list of things she was learning never to do again with customers in the store.

He guided her over to the counter full of machinery including pots of coffee, hot water, an espresso machine, and more equipment she couldn’t even identify. He spoke to her gently and gave her all his attention, carefully talking her through how to make a few of the most ordered drinks. Other than almost burning herself a couple times, she was starting to get the hang of it. She had a very hard time wiping the smile off of her face after Harry taste tested each one and gave his seal of approval.

“Not bad, Baby Barista,” he complimented with a dimpled smile and a slight nod after she handed him what she believed was a caramel latte. She reveled in his praise, wanting to do her job well, but also loving his approval and the nickname he had now assigned to her.

They did this coffee lesson for a few more hours, as the shop slowed to almost a complete stop as they got closer to closing time. Isla had headed home and there were only a few stragglers left that had spent their days working or reading in the cafe as the sun began to set around 5pm, with closing at 6. Harry diligently continued to teach her as much as he could in one day as they began to close up the shop and get ready for the next day. He was easy to talk to and their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly as they swept and did dishes.

“So, what brought you to London?” he asked after a short lul, looking at her with an inquisitive look, the ever present dimple on his cheek and grin on his lips disarming her easily.

“Oh, you know,” she stumbled over her words slightly, “I just needed a fresh start.”

“No mysterious or heartbreaking backstory I need to know about?” he quipped, a questioning eyebrow perched on his forehead. She let out another loud laugh, deciding not to quiet herself this time as there was only one customer left in the store.

“No,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she swept. “I got dumped in a small town and needed to get away from them. It was like they were around every corner.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but he just had a way of pulling the truth from her. “I always dreamed of living here and the breakup was the kick in the ass I needed to actually do it.”

“I’m glad you made it here, but I’m sorry about the breakup.”

“Don’t be,” she smiled. “Definitely for the best.”

“Okay, then I won’t be.” His eyes had a mischievous glint behind them, but she couldn’t exactly place what he was getting at.

They worked together in a comfortable silence after that, making sure everything was ready for the morning to come and clean from the day that was leaving. Y/N covered a yawn as Harry told her that she was done for the day.

As she clocked out and gathered her things, she heard Harry’s voice as she moved towards the exit. “Do you live close by? I can give you a ride if you need. Don’t want you having to walk too far in the dark.” His offer was sweet and made her smile.

“I’m pretty close and I like the walk.” She grabbed onto the handle of the front door but couldn’t make herself leave just yet. “Thank you for being so patient with me today, Harry,” she said looking back towards him and connecting their eyes. She tried to convey her emotions to him on her face, something she wasn’t always very good at.

“No problem. We’re happy to have you here, Baby Barista.”

With a final nod and a light flush to her cheeks, she set off down the street towards her new flat. It wasn’t a long walk, just long enough to get a little chill in her bones from the cold winter air and to turn her nose into a small icicle.

She reflected on her first day as she walked. She liked Isla, and really liked Harry. And while she was very busy, it was good busy, not the type of busy that depletes your energy and makes you want to fall over at the end of the day. It was a kind of busy that kept her on her toes, ready to learn, and develop a skill.

Her thoughts were broken through when she noticed the old beat up red car that seemed to be following her down the road. It drove slowly, as if it didn’t want it to see her, and took extra long at intersections like it was hoping to stay behind her. She took a turn she didn’t need to at the next block, and another after that, and when the car continued to follow, her heart began to race.

She thought about running, or going up to a pedestrian and asking for help; she even considered calling her mum just to stay on the phone with her until she got home. It wasn’t until she recognized the green eyes and dimples behind the wheel that her heart began to slow. She turned around fully then, making eye contact with the man who had been following her, and crossing her arms in front of her and shooting a questioning eyebrow up at him.

He wore a look of shame as his car slowed to a stop in the street next to her.

“Excuse me sir,” she said sarcastically, bending over to look in the window and get a better look at his embarrassed rosey cheeks. “Why were you following me?”

“I wasn’t being a creep, I promise,” he quickly defended. “This neighborhood gets a little dangerous at night and I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He looked panicked and frazzled, clearly not planning on being caught. It was the first time she had seen him without a smile on his face all day.

“Harry, you were the thing that was making me feel unsafe,” she said, playfully scolding him through giggles. She watched as his face fell in a flood of relief that she wasn’t angry with him. “If you told me that you were going to follow me home anyway, I would have taken the ride.”

“I’m sorry.” He hung his head and ran a stressed hand through his curls.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she smiled softly. “I appreciate you caring enough to make sure I got home.” She rested a hand on the passenger side door handle. “And now you’re going to drive me the rest of the way home to make up for making me get off my normal route,” she laughed as she pulled on the handle and settled herself into the passenger seat.

The car was old, but clean and it smelled like the cologne he wore that she had picked up on a few times throughout the day. He was quiet, hanging his head like a child who had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar, as she directed him towards her flat. “I’m sorry, again,” was all he said when he pulled up in front of the building.

“Don’t be,” she smirked, using the same words she had earlier in the day when discussing her breakup. She exited the car, giving him a wave, and a call of “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before entering the building and shutting the door behind her.

***

Over the next few weeks, Harry and Y/N became fast friends.

After about a week of begging, she finally broke down and allowed him to pick her up and drive her home from work every day. Their morning rides consisted of the perpetually peppy and excitable morning person in the driver's seat blabbering on about something he saw on the news while he was getting ready or going on about a new book he was reading, while she would settle her still sleepy head on the window and rest her eyes for just a few more minutes before their day was forced to begin. At the end of the day, Harry was the quiet one, letting her recount the day (usually complaining about unruly customers or people that would sit and steal their wifi all day without ordering anything), while he drove her at a painfully slow pace to her flat. He always waited until she got inside the building, even asking her to text him when she got inside her tiny flat.

“I just want to make sure you got inside safe,” he would argue when she teased him about it.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she would rebut.

“Then I’m not coming to help you anymore when you can’t figure out the milk steamer, Baby Barista.”

“Don’t threaten me with that stupid milk steamer. It has so many buttons you need to work for NASA to understand it,” she would groan, only to be met with a teasing glare from the curly man next to her. “Fine, I take it back,” she would always concede.

His protectiveness was not unwelcome to her. If she was being honest with herself, Harry was the only real friend she had made since she made the move to London and she was quickly becoming heart crushingly lonely. She took any care that anyone in the new and scary city was willing to give her with open arms.  

He was her only friend. They got on so well, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the extra few minutes she spent with him every morning and evening in the car. Maybe even a little too much.

At work, there was usually a chorus of laughter and giggles coming from their direction as Harry had taken her under his wing while she learned the ropes. There were days they would stay late after they had been off the clock making drinks over and over again; him patiently teaching, and her desperately trying to learn. There were definitely a few failures along the way, but they were always met with a teasing joke and then careful step-by-step directions on how she could fix it.

Technically Harry was her boss, store manager to be specific, but they worked alongside each other seamlessly, him never barking orders at her or using a harsh or authoritative tone.

Until today.

Y/N had been talking to one of their regulars, Robby, after she delivered an Americano to his table in the corner while it was particularly slow. Robby came in often, always shooting Y/N a bright smile and peppering compliments into their quick conversations. He was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny that; he had deep brown skin and an athletic build that she was sure was muscular under the thick sweater he was wearing to protect him from the cold. But he wasn’t her type, a little too arrogant and self-obsessed for her liking, always figuring out a way to turn their quick conversations back to himself. While it was fun to flirt with him, she knew it would never go any further than that.

“When do you get off?” Robby had asked suddenly, derailing their conversation away from the drink she had just delivered him. “I would love to take you out and see you in something other than that god awful apron.”

“Hey! I quite like my apron,” she playfully feigned offense, reaching to lightly swat him on the arm. “And while I appreciate your offer, I just got out of something pretty long term and I’m really not looking for anything right now. I’m sorry, Robby.” She forced a friendly pout onto her face, pretending like she was actually sorry for denying him.

Before he could respond, she heard an annoyed voice call her name from behind the counter. Whipping her head around to see who it was, she found Harry wearing an annoyed and frustrated face she had never seen him make before, especially not directed towards her. “We need some help back here. You have a job to do, remember?” he scolded, eyebrows furrowed and jaw steeled.

Her cheeks flushed white hot, embarrassed to be reprimanded like that in front of the whole shop. She hung her head in shame as she quickly walked back behind the counter. She was beyond embarrassed, suddenly uncomfortable in a place she had finally begun to come into her own in. She was learning and doing a good job, at least that was what she had been told, by both Isla and Harry; but the uneasy feeling in her stomach kept her from feeling comfortable for the rest of the day.

She carefully and quietly navigated behind the counter for the rest of her shift, sheepishly doing her best to stay out of her coworkers’ way and just do her job.

For the first time, she was slapped in the face with the reality that Harry wasn’t just her friend; he was her boss. He had an authority over her, and could probably get her in trouble with the owner, or even fired if he really wanted to. Navigating a business-like relationship was awkward and abnormal for them both, but Y/N decided she needed to learn how to quickly.

There was another reason his silent treatment seemed to hurt, one that Y/N had been trying her best to ignore. An undeniable crush had begun to build in her for the bright and bubbly man, despite however hard she had tried to fight it.

Harry made her feel safe, always keeping an eye out for her and trying to make sure she was alright. He made her laugh more than anyone she had ever known and their chemistry together felt electric. But what warmed her heart, and what now hurt the most, was that it felt like he cared about her just as much as she cared for him.

But now, it all felt like a fairytale she had built up in her head.

Their usual banter and giggles fell quiet for the rest of their day, reducing to curt directions from Harry and understanding hums from Y/N, following his orders without question or comment. Even Isla was quiet, not daring to breach the tension the pair had created between themselves.

The car ride home was quiet and strained that day.

But she still texted him when she was safe inside her flat.

***

While she had prayed that the next day would be like any other, their morning ride to work was filled with much of the same silence.

Harry fiddled with the heat and the radio in an effort to avoid her eyes or having to make conversation, eventually settling on a station that was playing old classic rock she didn’t recognize. He drove like she wasn’t even in the car, staring silently ahead at the road. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat fiddling with her fingers, not daring to get comfortable in a space that was all his.  

At work, they both held tight to the tension, only muttering at each other when absolutely necessary. She kept her head down and just did what she was told to do.

She was at the counter when a woman approached the coffee bar, seeming to bark her order for an extra hot cappuccino with extra foam at Y/N. Her face was twisted into an angry pout, like she had just smelled something bad, and spat her words out her words. Y/N just nodded and breathed a “yes, maam,” unable to fight with any nasty customers today while her head was so occupied with Harry. She was off her game.

The woman hovered at the counter, watching intensely and tapping her foot impatiently as Y/N fought with the dreaded milk steamer attachment to one of their large industrial machines. She would have sworn that she pressed the extra hot setting.

Passing the full mug to the woman at the register, Y/N watched as she took a long sip of the drink before paying, something that wasn’t really allowed, but Y/N just didn’t have the fight in her today to reprimand her.

“That will be £2,” Y/N spoke softly with as much sweetness as she could muster, afraid of what could come out of the woman’s mouth. She watched as her face turned even more sour than before after she finished the long drag from the cup.

“I’m not paying for this,” she declared, nose stuck high in the air.

“I’m sorry?” Y/N asked with confusion clear in her voice. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“It’s not extra hot and there is no extra foam.”

“Okay, I’m very sorry about that,” she said apologetically, even though she knew for a fact the drink had both of those things, and released an exhausted sigh. “I will make you another.”

The woman’s eyes flicked down the counter in Harry’s direction, rudely snapping her fingers at him to catch his attention. He was hunched over the back counter, somehow worsening his already terrible posture, trying to eat a sandwich as fast as he could before his break was over. “Are you her boss?” she shouted at him, even though he could have heard her without raising her voice at him.

Y/N’s eyes were already filled with anxiety when Harry connected his with her’s, seeming to wordlessly ask what was going on and Isla watched on in terror. She felt her body try to shrink away from the woman before her and Harry as he came closer.

“I’m the store manager. Is there something going on that I could help with?” His eyes kept flashing back and forth between Y/N and the woman, trying to decipher the situation without words.

“I want you to remake my drink.”

“I’m actually on a break-”

“No,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “If she makes my drink again, she is just going to fuck it up all over again. She’s obviously incompetent.”

Y/N eyes flew open at her words, a mix of shock and hurt running through her. With her heart beginning to race, never one for confrontation, she wanted to melt into the floor and disappear all together.

Harry’s face hardened at the woman as she hurled insults towards Y/N. Stepping in front of her, as if putting his body between her and the woman could protect her from her harsh words, he took a deep breath before he began to speak again. “First of all, you will not speak to anyone who works here like that,” he defended her. “Second, I’m sure she’s completely capable of making your drink again if you give her a moment.”

“I don’t want her to make it and I have places to be,” she continued to fight. “I don’t have time for some pathetic newbie to give it another try.”

Her comments hit Y/N hard in her existing feelings of inadequacy and before she knew it, her vision was beginning to blur. She felt like this woman was repeatedly kicking her while she was already down.

“You have to leave.”

Harry’s voice was angry. It wasn’t the frustration or annoyance she had heard the day before, and it was a far departure from the kind and patient tone she had grown to love since she began working at the shop. It was full of anger, something she had never heard from him and an emotion she hadn’t even been sure he could feel before this point.

“I’m not leaving until I get another drink that’s correct and free.”

“I will call the cops if you don’t leave right now.”

Y/N couldn’t stand to watch this unfold before her any longer. An anxious weight had settled on her chest and she had felt the tears begin to roll. She was gone from the counter, running towards the soundproof walk-in fridge in the back hall. She planned on shutting herself inside and sobbing until she froze.

She stood in the freezing chill, holding her arms tight to her frame, desperate to keep herself warm and shield herself from the wrath that was playing out in the cafe. The cold seemed to ground her and the distance she had put between herself and the woman eased her stress, but the tears continued to flow as her eyes ran over the stock of the fridge in an attempt to distract herself.

A knock came from outside the heavy metal door that startled her, a soft and patient voice that she knew so well called through. “Y/N, are you okay? Can I come in?”

After doing her best to wipe the tears off her raw and cold cheeks, she choked out a small “yes.”

The door carefully opened and she was met with a soft and empathetic gaze from the only person she wanted to comfort her. He breathed a soft “come here,” before he opened his arms wide. She bolted into them, letting his giant frame envelop her whole in the warmth that always radiated from him. Y/N let herself weep softly into his chest as the dizzying scent of his cologne took over her senses.

He held her close to him for a few moments, letting her get all her emotions out, before releasing her body and taking her face into his somehow still warm hands, using his thumbs to swipe away a few more tears that had managed to escape.

“I don’t think that I even messed her drink up,”she broke the silence, feeling pathetic as he held her in his hands.

“I know you didn’t. She won’t be coming back.”

“Thank you for defending me,” she said, hiccuping as she stared into his comforting eyes. “I feel so stupid. I’m sorry.” She went to pull away, but he continued to hold her close.

“No, this is all my fault,” he shook his head slightly, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “If I hadn’t been such a dick yesterday then none of this would have happened. I’m so sorry.” His eyes held honesty, determined to be granted absolution by the girl before him.

“I don’t like it when we don’t get along,” she squeaked. “I really don’t like it when you yell at me and make me feel like I’m not doing my job well.”

He sighed hard, his face looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. “I have to be honest with you,” he confessed. “I wasn’t acting like an asshole yesterday because you weren't doing your job; you were just doing fine. I was upset you were flirting with that guy.”

She felt her lips fall into a small ‘oh.’ While she hadn’t meant anything by what she thought was harmless flirting, Harry hadn’t known that. The frustration and annoyance she had heard was in actuality all jealousy.

“You were jealous?” she asked softly, bringing a hand up to hold over one of his own that were still holding her face.

“Well, yeah,” he said with an awkward shrug. “I just thought that there might be something between us.”

He looked so adorable like this, slightly uncomfortable and shy. She looked at him intensely as an excited bubble began to form in her stomach at the idea that this massive crush had been mutual the whole time.

“There is.”

She couldn’t hold back her smile any longer, a grin breaking out onto her face as she nodded at him. The cold of the fridge was no longer nipping at her skin, her whole body radiating a flattered and excited blush of heat. The screaming she had just endured felt long behind her although it had only been a few minutes.

He mirrored her giddy expression. She watched as all the tension in his face began to melt away in relief and it reminded her of the look on his face when she teased him after he followed her home that first day.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed. “I was so worried that you were going to friendzone me forever.”

“I thought you were going to employee-zone me,” she chuckled.

“Are you going to kiss me or keep staring?”

A wide cheeky smile stretched across his lips, before she reached up and connected hers to his. The kiss was caring and sweet, but it felt like it sealed something she had been feeling since the first day they had met.

Their lips moved smoothly against each other, interrupted occasionally by a smile one of them couldn’t contain or a giggle that slipped from one of their mouths. She wasn’t nervous or overwhelmed by his proximity. She was so comfortable in his embrace. He was her best friend, after all.

They broke apart after a few moments, giant grins plastered on their faces that neither of them could manage to wipe away. “I liked that a lot,” Harry beamed, a boyish flush to his cheeks.

“Me too,” she mirrored him.

They spent a few more minutes in the fridge, swirling in a daze of infatuation and affection. “Do you think anyone heard us?” he asked softly, looking over towards the large metal door that had been left open a crack, before it flung open and they were met with a thrilled Isla.

“Yes, I heard you!” she exclaimed. “It’s about time!”

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback/Reblogs mean the world!! 

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[luminescencefics]

what happens after

Here’s the second part of my HS Fic Slam submission that is completely unnecessary and written (somewhat) under the influence from the NYE bottles of champagne I consumed last night! You don’t have to read the first part for it to make sense, it can completely stand alone. As for warnings: it’s complete and utter smut. Enjoy! x

3k word count

My masterlist

***

Nestled in the far corner of the bar inside the Chateau Marmont hotel after your third (or was it fourth at this time?) tequila on the rocks is not how you intended to spend the remainder of your Friday night. But alas, you were hidden in plain sight in the dimly lit room, right leg crossed over left against the expensive velvet lounge seating, sipping gingerly on your (definitely fourth) cocktail as you wait for your phone to vibrate on the sleek wooden table. 

The bar seemed to wake up once the clock struck midnight—a normality amongst the best late night spots in Los Angeles. Situated just off the Sunset Strip, you find yourself not surprised in the slightest that this was the destination Harry requested to meet you at. It’s the quintessential spot, if you truly stop to think about it—close enough to the liveliness of downtown LA but not quite in the epicenter of it all, the ideal amount of faint lighting to make the mood just an inch heavier, and the perfect amount of anonymity to ensure that sneaky iPhone pictures aren’t taken against your will.

While you wait, one hand grasping the half-filled glass and the other calmly resting on your leather-clad thigh, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through the handful of messages exchanged between you and Harry from this evening.

It all started after the concert when his security guard handed you a barely legible piece of paper with a phone number hastily written on the bottom. Just as the crowd began to disperse, you composed a coy text message that he had answered almost instantly. And once you read the words, I’ve got to finish up at the venue for a bit. Mind waiting at the Chateau Marmont bar for me? I’d love to have that drink x, you were calling your Uber without hesitation.

As if he could tell that you were growing a bit impatient, a new message appears underneath your last response. It was simple, reading, I’m here, and before you could inform him that you were waiting towards the back of the room, two pairs of long legs hidden underneath striped black and white trousers become visible in your periphery.

You look up immediately, smiling when you realize it was Harry.

He looks different standing near you than he did up on the stage an hour and a half earlier. Even though he still had that wildly messy hairstyle, and he still filled out his clothes incredibly well, and he still looked larger than life—you can now make out smaller details that are otherwise impossible to see from the crowd. His eyes are a hazy mix of blues and greens and golden browns and he had a faint layer of stubble surrounding his mouth and when you look a bit closer, you can make out birthmarks that litter his face in an appealing way.

“Hi,” you say slowly, realizing that Harry was making the same identifications that you just were.

“Hi, sorry if I kept you waiting long. Want another?” he asks, eyes begrudgingly falling from your own to the last few drops of tequila sloshing against the bottom of your glass.

When you nod steadily, he turns around with one last smirk before you realize that you hadn’t even told him what you were drinking. But when he reappears, holding two identical glasses and sliding into the open space next to you, the smell of expensive tequila floats towards your nostrils and you’re suddenly impressed.

“Thank you,” you whisper, smiling slightly before bringing the rim to your lips, holding eye contact while you slip slowly.

You try not to notice the bob of his Adam’s apple as he mirrors your movements. You do notice, however, that he angles his body so that his right elbow is leaning against the table, causing his kneecaps to rest against your thighs. And when he flings his left arm over the back of the velvet lounger just gracing the tips of your shoulders, you’re not subtle when you ogle at the crisp Calvin Klein tank top underneath his black blazer.

Your name falling from his lips brings your gaze back to his face. “Thanks for meeting me,” he says, his voice dropping a few octaves. You’re not sure if it’s from the amount of singing he did earlier in the evening or something else entirely, but you are sure of the shiver it causes to fall down your spine.

“Did you think I’d say no?” you ask, lips quirking up into a tantalizing smirk. If he’s going to tease you with his body being a bit too close to yours, you definitely weren’t going to miss out on the opportunity to do the same.

The smug grin decorating his face tells you that he knows exactly what you’re doing. And when he leans a bit closer, uttering softly, “I’d be devastated if you had,” you have a feeling that drinks will be over much faster than you assumed. 

After a round of fingers dancing against body parts and lips whispering flirtatious remarks and eyes lingering too long on chests, your assumptions prove correct when Harry closes out his tab with the bartender, calling his driver to finish drinks over at his house in the Hills. 

When his hands grip yours as you steady yourself out of the corner booth and towards the front entrance where a black town car is waiting on the pavement, you make sure to rub your thumb against the cross tattoo on his skin. It seems to have worked, because once the two of you are sitting in the backseat, Harry makes sure to keep your body close to his, so that your left side is flushed completely with his right. And when his large palm grips at the leather adorning your inner thigh, you’ve had enough of this flirtatious banter. You want more. You need more.

Just as the partition closes, you turn your body so that your nose is brushing against his rigid jawline and your lips are grazing the thick vein protruding from the side of his neck. Your right foot wraps around his ankle, and with your hand squeezing his bicep you ask, “How long is the drive?”

Harry squeezes your thigh tighter, until you can practically feel his nails ripping the fabric. “Less than fifteen. Think you can wait that long?” His voice is scratchy and his breath is warm against your forehead and you honestly aren’t sure if you can hold off any longer.

“You’ve been making me wait quite a lot this evening,” you tease, the hand not holding his bicep drawing a tantalizing path down the planes of his chest over the thin fabric of his undershirt. 

The whine erupting from the back of his throat causes your eyes to fall back towards his. “Promise I’ll make it up to you.”

And before you can spit out a remark, his left hand cups the underside of your jaw and his lips are on yours. It’s not gentle at all—it’s all frivolous tongue and nipping teeth and muddled moans exchanged between parted mouths. The hand on your thigh moves up higher and higher until he’s just underneath your core, and just when you think he’s going to relieve the burning inside of your stomach, he keeps his hands where they are. He’s teasing you just as you were teasing him, and it’s enough to make you growl against his lips. 

Before you can swing your right leg over his hip and begin nipping at his neck, the car comes to an abrupt stop. Harry removes his lips from yours, his thumb rubbing against your swollen lower lip in awe. The door suddenly opens, and you don’t even take in your surroundings as he practically drags you through the front door and up the stairs into his bedroom.

The room is dark safe for the moonlight flooding through the balcony doors, and it’s enough to allow you to locate his lips and bring them back towards yours. The only thing you’re focusing on is the location of his bed, and once his lips fall to your neck and you can peek over the shoulder you're gripping intensely, you see it in all its king-sized glory. 

You step out of your heels, bringing your palms to the front of Harry’s chest so that you can splay them along his body before sliding underneath the arms of his blazer, pushing it off his shoulders so that his arms are free from the expensive fabric. You take in his decorated arms, the slope of his biceps, that firmness of his chest, and when your eyes read the personalized embroidered words along his ribs, your thighs clench at the sudden warmth flooding your insides. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you simultaneously suck at the perspired skin as you push him backwards towards his bed. And once the back of his knees buckle against the mattress, you push him down so that he’s sitting with his legs spread out and his bluish greenish golden brown eyes completely darkened over with lust.

When you’ve got him where you want him, you cross your arms at the bottom of your tight bustier top and fling it over your head, throwing it aimlessly on his floor. The tight shirt did not require a bra, so when you stand up fully, completely bare torso in Harry’s vision, the moan that falls from his throat is enough to make the warmth between your legs permeate through your lace underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he chokes out, hands wrapping around your waist so that he can bring you closer to his mouth. And when his tongue creates a line from your naval all the way up to the underside of your breasts, circling your nipples until your fingers pull at the root of his hair, you both can’t help the moans that escape your mouths. 

Harry’s thumb and forefinger expertly pop open the button of your pants, pulling the zipper down without moving his mouth from your chest. His two large hands reach towards your back, slipping underneath your pants as he palms your ass, bringing the material down past your thighs until they’re pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your black thong.

You fall to your knees after you step out of your pants, fitting in the space between his thighs easily. His hands are raking through your hair as your fingers toy with the clasp of his tight trousers, and when your chin rests softly on his right thigh, lips practically hovering over the erection hidden underneath his pants, you decide to bring your teeth to the zipper and pull it down. Your nose brushes against the massive bulge between his thighs, and before you stand up properly so that he can remove this layer of clothing from his body, you make sure to bring your lips to his clothed length and press a slow kiss to it.

Harry stands up faster than you’ve ever seen him move all night, practically ripping his trousers as he flings them from his body. His shirt is next, up and over his torso before you can even blink. It falls somewhere along the bottom of his mattress, and before you can admire his broad chest and muscular stomach and sinewy hips, you push him back so that his head falls against the pillows and you can straddle his waist easily.

Your tongues tangle for a bit, hands gripping and clawing at the other’s skin as you grind your hips against his. You can feel his cock rubbing against your dripping core, and when his fingers begin to toy with the bottom of your underwear, just barely touching where you need him most, you’ve decided that you’ve had quite enough of his teasing.

So to take matters into your own hands, you press two warm palms against his chest, removing your lips from his and sitting up straight along his waist. This position causes his cock to completely line up with your core, and for a minute, you revel in the feeling of it and how it causes the knot in your stomach to tighten ferociously. You can tell he feels it too, with the way his front teeth are practically ripping the skin of his lower lip and the way his hands are bruising the fleshy skin along your hips. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks gruffly, noticing how your right hand reaches for something behind your back.

When you feel your fingers grip the cotton material of his undershirt, you smirk inconspicuously in his direction. “Would you say you’re open to most things? Sexually, I mean,” you ask, your hands still behind your back.

Harry cocks his head to the side, smugness radiating off his expression. “Sure, love. I’d really love for your legs to be open, though. More specifically, me in between them, if we could hurry along to that part.”

You giggle, and when his hands reach out behind your waist to find what’s behind your back, you reveal his shirt and notice the confused look on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you whisper, removing his hands from your waist and bringing them to interlock above his head around the thick wooden post of his headboard. “We’re getting to that part.”

And when you tie his shirt around his wrists in an expert sailor’s knot, you’re the one wearing the smug grin. 

You resume your position, mouth nipping at his lower lip as you pull sensual kisses from his lips. And when you peer into his eyes to make sure that he’s comfortable, you start to drag your tongue between his pectoral muscles, down the lines of his stomach, and through the patch of hair just above the waistline of his briefs.

When your fingers remove the final layer of clothing from his body, his hard cock springing upwards and resting against his stomach, you don’t try to hide the satisfied hum that leaves your lips. 

“Mmm,” you say, bringing your thumb to his leaking slit and slathering his wetness along his length. “I knew you would be big.”

The moan that rips through his throat is feral, and when you bring the pad of your thumb to your swollen lips and suck it off, turning your palm so that you can lick it generously, Harry feels as if he’s about to burst.

You begin to pump his length slowly at first, watching the way his wrists struggle against the fabric holding him back. Smiling to yourself, you bring your lips to the tip of his cock, circling your tongue slowly around the slit before wrapping your mouth around him completely and beginning to work your way down his impressive size.

“Holy shit,” Harry groans once your nose brushes against his navel. And when you peer up at him, nodding ever so slightly to indicate that it’s okay for him to begin to rut against your mouth, you don’t miss the way his eyes roll into the back of his head as his hands itch to tangle in your hair.

After a few pumps in which you end up gagging, you remove your lips from his cock, watching the string of spit that connects you both. Your eyes are watering and when you look at Harry’s face and see the way his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are blown out and his chest is heaving sporadically, you wipe your lips with your thumb and bring your mouth towards his.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your lips, nipping at your lower lip as you remove your underwear from your legs.

“Condoms?” you ask once your knees are surrounding his hips. 

“Nightstand, second fuck—” he pauses, eyes widening when you brush the tip of his cock against your pulsing heat. “—Second drawer.”

You nod, locating the condom easily and ripping the foil packet with your teeth. Reaching between you both, you make sure to hold eye contact as you roll the latex down his throbbing length.

“Ready?” You ask, one hand holding the base so that you can angle it perfectly towards your entrance, the other gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Please,” Harry begs, and it’s enough to cause you to sink down easily onto him, due to the dripping heat between your legs.

Your moans echo off each other as you sit completely on his waist, his cock submerged inside of you. It takes a moment to get accustomed to his size, and when you feel your walls fluttering around him and take in the strained vein pulsing on his neck, you begin to rise up on your knees until you can sink down on him again.

“So good,” Harry grunts, beginning to raise his hips to meet yours once you’ve developed a rhythm that suits you both. Your hands are gripping his chest, nails carving crescent moons into the skin as you bounce on top of him, feeling more filled than ever before. 

With every raise of his hips, Harry’s wrists pull down against his restraints as he tries to angle himself inside of you. And when an impressive thrust causes your head to fall back on your neck, the distinct sound of fabric ripping reverberates through the room.

“Thank fucking god,” Harry says, throwing his tattered shirt to the floor and bringing his arms around your waist, flipping you both expertly while you’re still inside of him. 

You’re shocked for a moment, the sudden quickness of the last few events catching up inside your clouded brain a half step behind Harry’s. When his hand grabs your right ankle and brings it over his shoulder, and the other grips your waist as he thrusts into you in an impressive new angle, it’s enough to cause your eyes to shut tightly and your mouth to fall open in a guttural moan.

He pulls out of you completely before pressing into you again so intensely that you’re almost convinced your hips will be bruised. And when he does it again, your hands wrap around his bicep as you whine, “Oh my god. More Harry, please more.”

Harry snaps into you with a rhythm that causes your toes to curl in the air. He’s pulling noises from your mouth that you weren’t even possible you could make, and when the warmth inside of you begins to feel all-encompassing, you know that you’re getting closer towards the end.

Suddenly, a warm hand wrapping around your neck causes your eyes to dart open. You blink and find that the smug look is back on his face, and when he thrusts into you while simultaneously squeezing the flesh of your neck, you feel the warmth turn into a full-blown blaze inside of you. 

“Knew you were a dirty girl,” Harry says against your lips, squeezing your flesh and feeling his cock throb at the strangled moan that rips from your throat. Your hands fall over the ones around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze tighter so that you can finally reach your end, and when he does it once, twice, it’s enough to cause you to shake underneath him, feeling completely numb.

With a few jagged ruts inside of you, Harry suddenly stills until his hands fall from your neck and his lips take their place, huffing an exasperated breath into your skin. 

After a few moments, he rolls off of you, laying beside you with one hand against his heaving chest and the other gripping the sheets on the other side of his body. You lay there, mimicking his position and trying to come to terms with the fact that Harry Styles was quite possibly the greatest fuck of your life.

And when you stand up to use the restroom, tiptoeing along the hardwood flooring towards the connected en-suite, you can’t help but giggle when your feet step on the tattered fabric of his undershirt.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks from the bed, leaning up on his elbows so that he can see what you’re holding up in the air.

“Sorry about your shirt,” you call out, smiling when you notice the shit-eating grin covering the lower half of his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. And just before you’ve disappeared behind the door, he adds, “I’ve got proper restraints we can use when you’re finished. I promise they won’t break.”

[cloud9in]

Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)

Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....

Read Part 1 HERE

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii

Word Count: 2.6k 

Pt 2: The Date

Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement. 

1 message from Poppy🙄

 Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date��� tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣

 A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette. 

 Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.

 Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right? 

 The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”

 Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment. 

 “Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”

 Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”

 Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”

 “I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”

 “Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”

Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity  that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.

 But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.

 The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”

 “Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.

 Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”

 “Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”

 “Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”

 Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”

 “Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.

 “Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”

 “Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”

 Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire. 

 “Wha-...hey!”

 ***

 After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”

 “Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”

 The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was. 

 Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms. 

 “I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?” 

 Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.” 

 She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.” 

 Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of. 

 “I would. Thank you.” 

 The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday. 

 But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin. 

 The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.

 Food. That could work. 

 “Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.” 

 If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?” 

 Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.” 

 ***

“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”

 “Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”

 The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot. 

 Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.” 

 “I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body. 

 “Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence. 

 “We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.” 

 “Just one? What about your friend over here?”

 Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”

 The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction. 

 Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”

 The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?

 Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.” 

 Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.” 

 “Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.  

 ***

 “I’m paying for our next date by the way.” 

 Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness. 

 “Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”

 “I did too.”

 The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought. 

 “What are you thinking?”

 “What?”

 “You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”

 Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.” 

 Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.” 

 Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on. 

 But of course Poppy had other plans. 

 “Mmh!”

 The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer. 

 Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.” 

 Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.

***

if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.

[duskamethyst]

close to you. | part. Ⅱ

a/n: i am beyond grateful that i’ve got requests for a part two when i initially didn’t plan for this to be a series. i also don’t know what you’re expecting from the previous ending. i can make it spicy if that’s what you want (if you wish for part three), but i’ve no experience in writing gn!reader smut (so it’ll be f!reader instead). so, yeah. drop me something. it’ll really help. if not, i’ll just end it here.

word count: 3.2k

genre: fluff

warnings: n/a

pairing: catboy!kuroo x gn!reader

← read part. Ⅰ

“w-what do you mean?” you reply, refusing to look at him in the eyes as you speak. 

“you know, give me a kiss like you always did.” he purrs. “i kind of miss it, to be honest.”

your mind walks you down to memory lane where you always cradled him and gently kiss him on his wet nose. it was one of your favorite things to do and you swore you would’ve given him so many kisses on the nose but he always ended up squirming around and ran away. 

then you thought of kissing your cat in his human form and your cheeks start to warm when you realize how embarrassing it would be. you know he’s still your cat and all but it’s a bit different now, right?

“don’t be ridiculous, kuroo.” you sneer, crouching down and over his arm to step away from his silly enclosure like you’re a mouse that he managed to corner. he looks at you dejectedly, ears plopping down but perks back up the moment an idea pops in his head. from the look of his face, you can already tell that you hate it already. 

“how about we play hide and seek?” he suggests, golden irises glinting with playfulness. you know he’s stubborn and you can’t do anything but give in.

you sigh, “and what’s the catch?”

“if i catch you, you’ll have to kiss me.” he claims proudly as he puffs out his chest, hands on his hips and you regret asking in the first place. 

“what?!” your jaw almost drops. this game would only benefit him. you’ve played with him plenty of times before and you’re aware that he’s damn good at it. he’ll find you in a jiffy with the help of his strong sense of smell. 

“but that’s not fair! you already know where–” 

“ten, nine, eight...” kuroo completely ignores you as he closes his eyes to begin the countdown. although being completely forced into this game, your mind is already fumbling to figure out where would be the best spot to hide as you run away from the male. 

certainly not the closet– it would be too obvious. 

under the dining table? too easy.

under the bed? nah, that’s where he usually hides from you.

you don’t have much of a choice so in the end, you choose to hide behind the thick curtains in the corner of the living room. maybe if you hold your breath and sink in your stomach, you’d appear flatter and blend in with the curtains. 

“one!” he chirps before you start to hear his footsteps become louder and fade into the distance. just as you thought, the bedroom is the first place he would look into since that’s where the closet is located. you can hear the door open and a startling ‘boo!’ from him that almost makes you giggle before he closes it back again. 

it makes you anxious when you hear echoes of footsteps pacing back and forth as he walks to the bathroom then to the kitchen before they suddenly become quiet again and you think that he probably stops walking around the house. kuroo probably realizes that the sounds from his feet are making quite the noise in that form unlike when he was walking on his paws. 

“gotcha.” you squeal in surprise as kuroo yanks the curtains away and pulls you into his hard chest. “i immediately knew when i passed the living room but it wouldn’t be fun if the game ended so soon.”

“oh, shut up. you knew you would win anyway.” you huff in frustration. 

“you’ve picked the worst place to hide,” he smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear, “or was it on purpose?”

“you wish i was.” you roll your eyes, ignoring the shiver running down your spine when you feel his hot breath fanning your ear. 

“of course you didn’t.” chuckling, he then looks at you dead in the eyes. “and my reward?” 

“i didn’t agree to anything.” you internally curse at yourself when your heart makes a skip over how close his face is to yours, only separated by just a few inches. 

“but you played, didn’t you? you could’ve said no.” he purrs, hazel eyes flicking down to your lips and back to your eyes. 

“yeah– y-you didn’t give me a choice.” your breath comes out short as you realize he’s closing the space between you. “kuroo, stop.”

“don’t want to.” he cups your face gently to hold you still. you close your eyes as you nervously wait for his lips to crash onto yours and you can feel his bangs tickling against your face.

however, kuroo abruptly pulls away as a ‘pang’ sound reverberates throughout the room followed by an odd, stinging pain on his cheek.  

“ow?!” he yelps, his hand reaches his cheek and his eyes are blown in bewilderment. it feels warm, but it’s not the kind that he likes. it doesn’t feel anything like your body heat when he curls up on top of you despite the fact that it does heat up because of you.

“sike!” you laugh triumphantly but the man only looks at you in dejection. 

“you’ve never hit me before.” the corners of his lips tug into a frown and his tail curls around his waist for comfort.

you ponder for a moment, “true. but i find it easier to slap a man instead of a cat.” 

“then you’ll kiss me if i turn back into a cat, right?” his ears perk up as a sign of piqued interest.

you roll your eyes, “not necessarily.” you stretch your arms as you walk away to your room. “well, i’m beat. goodnight, kuroo.”

“coming!” he catches up to you but the door slams into his face before he can enter your room.

“no!”

kuroo ended up sleeping on the couch that night. he’s not entirely happy about it and you can see his attitude switches up the next morning. weekends mean you get the chance to laze around and steal the opportunity to wake up later than usual, and living with you for years means kuroo is also familiar with your schedule.

unfortunately, an unwanted noise disturbs your slumber. 

and he is scratching the door.

“go away, kuroo!” you groan, rolling to your side with a pillow between your head as you cover your ears in hopes to block out the racket right outside your bedroom. 

yet, kuroo is persistent, and you both are aware of that. whatever he wants, he will get. 

well, almost.

jumping off the bed and stomping your way to open the door, you look down to see the roguish cat grinning up at you tauntingly. 

“what?” 

kuroo meows as a reply and strides to the kitchen, glancing over to you to see if you’re following him before he stops and sits straight next to his empty bowl. you reach for the fridge to take out the fish for him and put it in the sink to let it thaw. 

kuroo jumps on the counter to scrutinize his food before looking up at you again, tail wagging in annoyance with wide brown irises surrounding his narrow pupils.

“that’s for misbehaving. i’m revoking our ‘truce’.” you sneer conceitedly with intent to show who actually holds the power around the house and him. 

kuroo only growls lowly, his ears pushed back in irritation but you only laugh. 

“that’s right. i can. i’m your master.” you say, before emitting a long, audible breath when you realize something. “but then again, i’m the one who has to work my ass off to feed you.”

kuroo only observes you in silence and curiosity– he thinks you look sad as you’re suddenly lost in your thoughts but you smile at him again and boop his little wet nose, making his heart flutter because it reminds him of the generous kisses you used to give him. if he knew it was going to turn out like this, he would’ve never struggled to escape when you cradled him into your arms. 

“but it’s okay. it’s all because i love your annoying ass.” you mindlessly mumble, almost forgetting the fact that kuroo is able to comprehend your language very well, and embarrassment washes over you once your mind becomes fully aware of it. even when he doesn’t speak, his pupils dilate in astonishment and he is utterly pleased. 

“i- uh, i mean– i have to give you credit where it’s due!” you say a little too loudly out of awkwardness, looking around anywhere except his gaze– you can already picture his stupid, smug grin in your head and you just wish for the ground to swallow you whole right now.

“anyways! i have to run to the grocery later after i feed you.” you quickly change the topic and run towards the bathroom to take a shower (or hide), leaving poor kuroo baffled on the counter. 

this time, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t mind having tuna. 

kuroo lounges on the couch alone, watching the clock on the wall ticks by as he waits for you to come home. he’s getting anxious– you’ve been out for a while now and it doesn’t help the fact that he couldn’t read the time no matter how hard he stares at the numbers. but that one thin line seems to move fast and it already made multiple cycles. so that surely means something, right? 

his ears perk up at the sound of your footsteps and jingling keys and his gaze quickly shifts to the main door but he decides to act cool, turning on the tv (he knows that one since he has seen you do it plenty of times) and pretends to watch whatever is playing. 

“kuroo, look what i found!” you chirp happily as you open the door, but his sharp nose has already figured and it’s something he’d definitely won’t be too pleased about. 

putting your grocery bag down on the floor, you skip into the living room and show him the calico cat you’ve found on your way back home. you hold the cat by his armpits, shoving the poor thing in front of his face.

his eye twitches at the sight and his tail fluffs up in annoyance, “hah?!”

you cradle him protectively against your chest and the cat meows almost too quietly as his bright golden eyes look up at you. “don’t shout, kuroo. you’re gonna scare him.”

“w-what– you can’t–” he gets up on his seat and glares at the calico that’s practically clinging back onto you. 

“oh, yes i can.” you laugh. “no nails on the couch, kuroo.” you simply say before turning around to pick up your grocery bag to the kitchen. he’s fuming and he doesn’t even realize how hard his hands are clenching down on the couch. to make it worse, kuroo doesn’t miss the dirty look that the cat throws his way when you walk to the kitchen and boy, it makes him want to kick him out of the house immediately.

you quickly notice the intimidating vibe from the male as he observes you and your newfound friend, making you feel a little bad. “i’m just kidding, kuroo. i already asked if anyone wants to adopt it so i’m just gonna let him stay here for a while before my friend picks it up tomorrow.”

so you’re not entirely betraying him and he’s a bit relieved to hear it, but his territorial nature couldn’t stand the fact that he’s forced to go through one night with another feline in the house. kuroo could just leave the house for the night but then again, he’s the one that lives here so why should he? you may be oblivious, but kuroo can tell that there’s something malicious about him and it’s definitely not because he’s jealous.

“are you hungry, kenma?” you coo, ignoring the feeling of kuroo’s intense gaze burning holes from your back as he looks at you in disbelief after hearing the name you call him.

“k-kenma?! you already gave him a name?!” he yells and he’s so close to shredding the cushion underneath him. 

“mmhmm, i think it’s cute and it fits him.” you giggle as you watch the calico devour his food like he hasn't gotten a meal for ages. “or maybe kyanma is cuter?”

“ew.” kuroo tears his eyes away, no longer able to stand the sight of you smothering– (he can’t even bring himself to say the name) kenma despite being in his presence. first, the stupid blonde guy and now this? you’re breaking his little heart.

“don’t look at him like that.” though your eyes are glued to the screen, you can feel his piercing gaze from the other couch as you lie down with kenma sleeping and purring peacefully on your chest. it’s such an eyesore for kuroo and he just hopes you’re not going to sleep in bed with him tonight. 

kenma’s eyes flutter open to glance over the older feline and his lips twitch into a victorious smirk before snuggling back on your chest to sleep again, causing kuroo’s jaw to clench in vexation. 

but what gets on his nerves even more is when he suddenly hears the sound your lips make as you kiss kenma on the nose. 

his ears are blowing steam right now and in his head he’s already throwing stupid kenma away to sit on top of you and yell at him to stay away from what’s his and that he’s unwelcomed here. he wants to do it, but he knows that you wouldn’t like that and he fears that he’ll be the one to get kicked out from the house instead of his competitor. 

alternatively, he tries to get your attention.

“i’m hungry.” he whines as he looks at you with his innocent and pleading eyes in an attempt for you to melt into them. 

“but i’m going to wake him up if i leave.” you answer, genuinely feeling bad if you start to move away from your seat. 

“he’s not sleeping.” he quickly replies and kenma’s ears perk up when he’s aware that he’s on the topic. 

“but–”

“trust me, i know.” 

“hmm, fine.” you gently caress the cat and kenma mewls when you put him down on the couch to leave for the kitchen. kuroo watches you from his seat and turns to kenma once he’s confident that you’re distracted from preparing his food for him.

“listen here, you little shit.” he growls intimidatingly before bopping his head up to peep at you to see your back facing him, “i know what you’re up to and don’t you dare think that you’re running this place because you’ll be gone first thing in the morning.” 

“kuroo?” you call from the kitchen and he immediately stands up and pretends that nothing has happened as he skips happily to his plate. 

“feed me, pleaaase.” he shamelessly requests, but you only look at him weirdly and repulsed.

“but you already know–”

“pleaaaase?” his lips feign a pout but you roll your eyes.

“don’t be ridiculous, kuroo.” you wave your hand to disregard his plea and walk back into the living room and take kenma to sit on your lap before his head rubs on your hand to ask you to pet him.

kuroo only sighs and takes a mouthful of his meal into his mouth. 

morning has finally arrived, though later than kuroo expected. he couldn’t sleep a wink knowing that you were having kenma together with you on your bed while he had to settle for the couch again. he said it was either you bring him with you or leave kenma with him in the living room. but you couldn’t possibly leave the two together in the same room, even if you were there and asleep. kuroo was literally on his knees and begged to come inside the room with you, yet your answer was resolute. 

but it’s fine, you can say goodbye to kenma now and you’re going to be stuck with him until the end of his life. 

your friend comes with a cat carrier in hand and they just fall in love with the calico as soon as they lay their eyes on him. you’re a bit sad since you’ve grown attached to the little guy over the short time, but your friend assures you that you can stop by their place anytime if you wish to see kenma. they think that maybe you can bring kuroo along so they can play together, but you just laugh at the idea– knowing kuroo doesn’t like him and you only kept kenma close to make sure he wouldn’t be too distressed. and well, they’re not dogs either.

as soon as you close the door for your friend, kuroo wraps his big arms around you and sighs in relief. 

“that was mean of you.” he whines softly. 

“you’re being dramatic.” but kuroo holds you tighter and your cheeks start to get warm.

“no. you keep on picking up nasty scents from others. first, your ugly friend and then… then...” he nibbles his lip, as if uttering the name would cause him to vomit.

“atsumu and kenma?” you giggle, causing kuroo to grunt when he hears the names. 

“but now that i have you like this, you can’t run away nor slap me again.” he purrs, leaning his chin to rest on your shoulder. 

“i don’t get it.” you reply coyly, as if him rubbing his cheek against yours isn’t clear enough to tell you what he wants to do. 

“look at me.” he orders, and you nervously turn your head to him. although there’s a shit eating grin plastered across his face, it only makes him look even more gorgeous especially when he is only a couple of inches away. 

there’s a sparkle of mischief in his umber eyes as he stares into you, “close your eyes.”

and you do. his hot breath prickles your skin when he closes in the gap and he finally plants a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. 

your eyes flutter open once he pulls away. “is that it? is that the kiss?”

“mmhmm.” he nods his head a bit too proudly and lets you go. 

you burst out laughing when you’re reminded of a pure, curious child that knows absolutely nothing of the world. 

“then, you missed.” you chaff, turning to face the clueless male.

“w-what?” kuroo blinks in confusion and his ears and tail plop down dispiritedly. he’s pretty sure that he did it right. besides, that’s how you’ve always kissed him when he was a–

oh.

you take a step closer to him and get on your tiptoes before cupping his face to pull it closer to yours. it must be the waves of endorphins rushing in your veins or the look of his handsome yet dejected face after thinking that he has accomplished something great– but you found the urge to kiss him properly on the lips, leaving kuroo stunned and wide eyed as he relishes on the new feeling of your soft lips pressing against his before you pull away all too quickly.

“that’s how you kiss someone.” 

well, maybe you shouldn’t have taught him that because now, he’ll just might want more.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[icyllic]

Dating Rockstar Jungkook would include:-

*[GIF not mine]

• you and Jungkook first saw each other after his performance and he’s already interested in you since the beginning 🖤

• despite his ‘bad boy image’, he does have a sweet, soft side (though that side can only be seen by you)

• you two are COMPLETE POLAR OPPOSITES 😍 he’s more into rock, skeleton things, darker colors and rough stuff while you’re more drifted into the sweeter side; you love reading books, wearing bright colors and you enjoy arts & crafts

• ^ most people actually thought Jungkook would find it annoying how you being a complete opposite of him, but he doesn’t mind with how different you are with him at all ❤️

• he’s overprotective!! he doesn’t like it when boys stare at you too much. just one glare for the boys and it’d immediately scare them away

• he always needs your help whenever he writes a song (because you’re his biggest inspiration 🥺❤️)

• Jungkook loves it when you try braiding his hair. he’d enjoy it more knowing you struggle with it lmao 😂😍

• he loves horror movies and you don’t, so... he takes this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around you and have you hide your face on his chest the entire time 😢💜

• he loves teasing you outta nowhere when it comes to texting

• Jungkook loves teasing you with his attempts at ASMR as well 😂

• you don’t like it when he works too much, so you’d give him your best to massage him

• ....though the massage quickly turns to makeout session because whenever you touch him, even a slight touch, he gets turned on very quick 🔥

• when it comes to making love, he’s known to be a little aggressive but backhugs you after and apologizes

• ^ “i’m sorry for being so rough tonight...” he kisses your cheek. “i really can’t control myself around you.”

• he’s so madly in love with you and you have no idea 🥺

• that one time, you gave him a test by giving him the silent treatment for a day

• ^ and my oh myyy, he went so crazy and kept asking himself what he did wrong 😥

• when the time finally hit at 12 AM, it was already new day and you finally talked to him

• “relax, kookie. i was just testing you-” your words got cut off when he immediately hid his face on your neck, planting small kisses on that area 🥺❤️

• Jungkook doesn’t show his emotions much, but when it comes to arguing with you (normally over little things), he’d cry for almost the whole day because he’s so afraid of losing you 😔

• “Mannn for a rockstar like you are, you’re such a baby for Y/N” Jin shakes his head, teasing their golden maknae 

• ^ “I DON’T CARE! i’m only Y/N’s baby 😢” ❤️

• he loves slow dancing with you in your shared bedroom

• during his free time, Jungkook would join you crafting (but would pay less attention because he’s too busy looking at you) 😍

• that one time, you started feeling insecure because of how Jungkook is being shipped with members of any K-pop girl group

• ^ so he took the chance to address this matter in VLive and politely rejected some of the comments 

• “i’m really sorry if that sounded rude. i just really respect my relationship with the girl i’m madly in love with right now, and that’s only Y/N. Y/N’s the only one for me and i just really love her so much and no one can ever change that.”

• “you all know how crazy i am about her. it’s always been Y/N and only Y/N.” 🥺❤️

• he would often write about the way you make him feel in his journal 🖤

• he loves singing for you!! especially at night when you two cuddle to make you sleep better 😍

• Jungkook would always steal moments to take a picture of you secretly, and would set those candid pics as his lockscreen wallpaper 💖💖💖

• when he sees you wearing black, dark colors for the first time, oh dearrr. you don’t know how completely FAST you make his heartbeat race 🖤

• loves it when you wear his bucket hats & leather jackets too 🥰

• most important of all, you really are the cause of his euphoria 🥺🖤

[hey-nick-your-thoughts]

The habit of sleeping in had been long lost on me. Even though I slept the shock and stiffness off for days after leaving the vault, it eventually became habitual for me to wake up early in the morning. For a year, it had often been to the rising sun but in the detective agency it remained an elusive sight. Bricks shuttered the entire bottom floor off from the rest of the world happening around it. Even the top floor had been covered and recovered in various materials over the past decade or more. 

The residing detective's voice rang out as he approached the doorway of his bedroom, "Come on." He was, undoubtedly, anticipating that I was already awake for the day. 

Normally, I was quick to wake up at the sound of his voice. While traveling through a myriad of police stations all over the commonwealth, I had associated hearing his voice while I was sleeping with needing to suddenly be alert. An alarm no different from sirens of days passed. 

I couldn't move. Caught between a rough mattress and a pilled blanket, my body felt like it was both freezing and dripping in sweat. 

"Not like you to sleep in," he approached the side of my fabric prison, his amber eyes boring holes of concern into every inch of exposed skin, "You feeling okay, doll?" He placed his good hand against my forehead, pushing back my bangs to get a good reading. 

I found myself thinking about how receptive his synthetic skin must have been. Was it exactly like that of a human hand? Did it connect to things like thermometers to send the information to his system in order to tell the difference between hot and cold?

"A little warm." He pulled the blanket up to cover the small amount of shoulders that I had exposed. I felt the heft of the blanket against my collarbone. 

The detective stood up and I found myself immediately needing to roll over to reach for the bucket next to the bed. Draining the contents of my stomach into it all at once, I tried to muffle the sound so as not to wake Ellie. 

I then attempted to sit up and instead leaned against the wall with nausea floating in the pit of what was left in my stomach. "Maybe it's radiation sickness."

"Thought I heard one storm pass by last night." Knocking a metallic hand against the heavy bricks, Nick speculated, "These old walls may not have kept all of it out." 

"I don't have any RadAway around," I commented, recalling that the space in the drawer that used to house it was now housing a bag of tools instead. After reading that taking it often could cause hair loss, among other issues, I decided to switch completely over to using Rad-X instead. It was only preventative for a certain amount of time, but if I knew there would be any issues, I could pop one of the pills rather quickly and still keep my auburn locks. 

"Solomon usually keeps a ready supply of it. Why don't I go nab a pack?" In an almost repeating motion, Nick covered my shoulders with the old brown blanket again. I nodded, a chill crawling from the back of my neck only to turn into fire by the time it reached my toes. 

When the door closed, I found myself at the bucket again. I held a messy braid back with one hand and the blanket together with the other. A bead of sweat rolled down the edge of my face as I leaned over. 

Without me, Nick didn't have to worry about losing days of progress due to illness. Growing in a world kinder than this, I found that I was often feeling weak and helpless. A different hopelessness than the abusive home I had escaped only to end up here. Perhaps it was because someone else was being affected this time. It wasn't just me that I felt responsible for in regards to feelings anymore. 

In a moment of respite and feeling sorry for myself, I felt my eyelids drooping and welcoming me to more rest. I leaned against the cool, concrete wall and shut them. 

The door to the agency creaked open. A common sound that tended to make my heart beat a little faster. Something about him coming into that door made me feel less lonely, turning me into a twisted version of Pavlov's Dog. 

His boots played elegant notes across the splintered wooden floor. The synthetic melody played around the corner, accompanied by the RadAway in his hand, and continued to the dresser at the end of the bed. 

Black and gold eyes realized enough space to sit down at the foot of the bed, not too far where I was leaned against the wall. His weight pulled down on the mattress but it was comforting. "I talked to Doc Sun." 

"And?" 

"He thinks it might be food poisoning." Golden rings looked from me and to the bucket, "I'm inclined to believe him." 

It wasn't the first time I had food poisoning and it was true that radiation sickness felt much different than this current hell I was going through. 

The last time I could remember having food poisoning was when I threw up in front of my father just before the school bus was supposed to pick me up. He didn't want any calls from the school asking where I was, presumably because child services might make a visit due to previous issues. Instead he took one pill from every bottle in the medicine cabinet and made me take them all before sending me to school. I spent the entire day not knowing of my own existence. Before going into that state and after coming out of it, I remember being terrified but remembered nothing in between. 

But if I could dissociate that well through the current churning of my stomach, it would be something of a welcomed miracle.

"Said there's been a few cases of it around in the last 24 hours. Should check on Ellie, too, when she wakes up." 

"In any case, he said we should treat you for that first before dosing you with the RadAway." 

I sighed, "Today of all days, Nick. I'm so sorry." 

He shook his head, the gray hat cropping his face with shadows from the dim lighting, "Better it happened in here than out there.' The detective stood up and pointed at the head of the barren bed, "Just try to get some rest. We can leave after you're better." 

Though I still felt bad about hindering his work, despite his words, I laid down again on the mattress. Auburn hair obscured my vision, the braid became uncomfortable beneath my weight even with the bed below. I pulled the stretched hair tie apart from a sea of red and gently parted the waves until it flooded the surface below.

When he brought a bowl of soup in the afternoon, I realized that he really wasn't as concerned with the new case as he was with my health. By then, my stomach couldn't possibly have had anything else inside. I was happy to finally taste something that wasn't my own vomit. 

"Is Ellie okay?" I asked the detective between sips. 

"She's fine. Maybe that helps narrow down the culprit." The culprit, this time, was whatever food had caused the city to get sick. 

"Maybe that meat I added to the mac and cheese."

"Maybe." He concurred before joining me in sitting on the bed again. "Should talk to Doc Sun and see if he can't get whatever it was off the market before it kills someone."

I nodded, taking another spoonful of the hot broth. "So, Nick? Your last case, the Eddie one... Is that the only thing you had planned for the rest of your life or is there something else?" 

"What do you mean?"

I crossed my legs and cupped the warm bowl in my lap, "Your hopes, aspirations... a bucket list maybe? Going places or achieving something." 

Thinking about it, I was probably asking because I didn't see any for myself. After all, I was never meant to be here, to be alive at this point in time. Most of my life, since I was left alone with my father, was focused solely on surviving. I was reliant on the here and now with no chance to look forward more than 'I want a better life'. Sometimes, even before the bombs, life didn't feel like it was always guaranteed to continue the next day. 

My stomach churned again but it was a less physical feeling than what I was experiencing before. 

"Well." Nick paused and adjusted his weight against the bed. "The old nick wanted to see the city from the top of Bunker Hill. As much as I want to live my own life, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'd like to go up there, myself." 

Failing to stifle a laugh, I thought about the fact that we had already been in the area. 

"Don't laugh," He scolded, as if he thought I was laughing at the simplicity of his dreams.

"No, no. I was just thinking about how we had the opportunity when we stayed the night there." The beginning of that journey felt as if it was years ago. I remembered my apprehension in trusting the synth detective. The first person to truly reach out to me and I was keen to push him away for so long.

And with my feelings towards him now, all of it felt a little silly and nostalgic. 

His eyes focused directly on mine as he tried to explain himself. "Look, I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Let's do it together one day." I interrupted before he could print out another excuse. Maybe he really didn't want to overwhelm me but I personally thought it might have been his dedication to one task at a time. He was so focused on the case that he didn't take much time to do anything else unless I was dragging him into it. If I had known he wanted to go to the top of the monument, though, would I have offered at the time? 

"Sounds good." Seeing the smile lingering just beneath his serious stature felt like an achievement. "What about you, doll?" 

"Nuka World." Pulling the bowl back up from my lap, I took another spoonful of the cooling soup after an unexpected yawn. 

"Probably not functional right now. Why Nuka World?" I could practically see the gears turning in his head. 

"Everything in the commonwealth is in disrepair and honestly, it's beautiful." Buildings where the sunlight crept in had sunflowers reaching towards those rays. Highways creating works of art in the directions they bent and fell, as if they had simply begun melting into the earth one commonwealth summer. Forest lined sidewalks with billboards at the heads of their trunks. The way grass even grew in police stations torn open by a landslide. "I wanted to see a place I could only dream of as a kid become a work of art restored by nature." 

"Fair enough. Most people these days wouldn't have had the experiences we've had, save for a few ghouls I suppose." His hat bobbed slightly as he nodded. 

Setting the bowl aside and melting into the blanket and rough mattress, I continued my interrogation with the detective, "You're lucky."

"How so?" 

"You never had to see the bombs fall."

"Maybe I am." 

I still saw and felt the force of it in my dreams. The debris kicking up as the elevator to the vault descended. The alien wind blowing across the top as if it was a bottle to play a tune on. 

A frozen atmosphere in an unfamiliar place where my father and I were ushered to change into vault suits in front of everyone else. Neighbors sighing in relief as if the rest of the world hadn't just died in that same moment. 

Before long, I was waking up again. 

Warmth. 

As I rubbed my blurry eyes, I spotted the detective resting in the bed beside me. He often told me that he didn't need sleep but encouraged me to at least, which is why it was always surprising to find instances in which he chose to. The only difference this time is that he had decided to share the bed with me. 

Confused but not unhappy, I pulled half of the pilled, brown blanket over his figure. At the end of the bed lay his coat and hat, accompanied by a spare bag of RadAway.

[completeotometrash]

Secret Love (Jumin Han Fluff)

(WARNING): Spoilers for Seven’s route, implied nsfw. Read at your own risk.

Part 1

Word count: 2.4k

(She/her) pronouns.

.................

For years he has hopelessly longed for her. There was never a second that he thought she was anything other than ethereal beauty. Like a graceful and refined goddess, she blesses his vision. Though Jumin Han is not one to express his feelings or be interested in art for that matter, somehow, she makes seeing both so much clearer.

 He can recall the day she entered the RFA chat room, the way she presented herself. He is still amazed with how daring and bold she was. Everyone loves her for it. At the party, she wore a beautiful red dress that flattered her every curve and did wonders for his wandering mind. But it was not her body that truly earned his attention, rather, her charisma; the way she adapted and took advantage of every opportunity. They got along surprisingly well and even scheduled dinners to enjoy together so they could keep in touch. But she was never too close. He knows he is a busy man; he has no time to indulge in romantic affairs. Even with that aside, from his knowledge she does not share the same feelings.

 So, they stayed strictly platonic.

  Another year passed; another party was thrown. That time she truly outdid herself. Over a thousand guests were brought in, triple the usual. She slaved away to ensure that it was a great success; and that it was. She did not appear to be overworked, the smile on her face that traveled up to her eyes was magnificent. He found that to be a beautiful quality, the ability to stay positive. His heart hammered in his chest harder than it ever had. That night he found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours but the exhaustion never came.

 Finally, there is now. He has watched her grow more successful and gain the respect of everyone around her in less than three years. Her parties have raised millions of dollars that has all been donated to charity.

 They talk every day in the chat rooms, but it never satisfies the urge to speak to her. To hear her voice. As he normally would not act upon this, his fingers are already dialing her number. She picks up only seconds later.

 ~~~

With poise, she brings the glass of wine to her lips, one he specially ordered from a famous brewer located in Europe. After a small sip, she licks her bottom lip. He watches her reaction that seems to be a pleased one with the grin that follows.

 “It’s exquisite, Jumin. Some of the best that I’ve ever tasted!” She chuckles giddily, setting the glass down. He tries a sip of his own and agrees.

 “I’m glad you enjoy it. Would you like the winemaker’s contact information?” He takes another sip before adjusting his collar. She nods, trailing on about how she should invite him to the party as a guest. Her enthusiasm does terrible things to his body. Jumin finds himself heating up and wanting to take off his jacket.

 He doesn’t, of course. He has self-control.

 “So why is it that you would rather meet here at my estate than go out?” As he enjoyed her company and greatly prefer staying home himself, he could not help but ask. She has only visited his home once before, a brief exchange to deliver something.

 She fixes her posture, crossing her right leg over the other. “Honestly, I just wanted to enjoy you and our time together without anyone being around. As much as I love going out with you, I prefer just relaxing together on a less formal level.” She glances around only to look down at her hands, “Also, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what your apartment looks like.” She nervously laughs, rubbing her hands together.

 He swallows, his throat becoming tighter. Such honesty in her statement making him feel a little bashful. Taking a deep breath, he stands. “If you’re interested in my decor, I can show you around.” In a way, he takes pride in the way he keeps his house tidy. He has a modern dark theme with all the newest gadgets on the market. She happily obliges, standing beside him.

 ~~~

“The view is breathtaking.” She stares out the window with astonishment, finishing her glass of wine. He agrees, but only watches her.

 “Yes. The city is quite beautiful in the afternoon while the lights are lit. I made sure of that while searching for my apartment. I’ve found that Elizabeth the Third enjoys the view as well.”

 She cackles, shaking her head. “You know, you’ve got her spoiled. It’s actually really cute, just how much you care for her.” Turning to face him, her head tilts to the side. “You’re a good host. We should do this more often.”

 Revealing a small smile of his own, he looks down at her. “I appreciate your words and agree that we should do this more often. I find myself enjoying your presence in a less formal environment nice as well.” A small moment of vulnerability.

 She gasps, excitedly clapping her hands. “One day, maybe we can do some wine tasting while watching a movie!”

 Jumin takes her empty glass and refills it and his own. “I don’t see why we can’t do that now unless you have plans for tomorrow. It’s getting rather late.” He checks the time on his watch. “If not, I’ll have a ride set up to safely escort you home.”

 “I don’t mind staying. “

 Despite having the movie ready and being situated on the couch nearly an hour ago, it was never started. Sitting side by side, he talks with her instead.

 “I’ve always wanted to visit Rome and see the Sistine Chapel! The art there is so beautiful.” She leans back, seemingly more relaxed after two glasses of wine. He too feels the effects of the alcohol.

 “That is one place I have not been yet. As I’ve never been one to care for art, I’m sure your company there would be nice.” Jumin freezes, realizing the gravity of his statement as her eyes grow wider. There’s the crippling fear of her suddenly being repulsed by him. Mentally, he scolds himself for possibly making her uncomfortable. “I apologize if that was too-”

 His sentence is stopped yet again, but this time she is the one to do it. “In the future I’d love to go with you. What is the fun in traveling alone, anyways?” She smiles, rubbing her head. “Shall we start the movie now?”

 He inhales sharply, lifting the remote and pressing play.

 ~~~

When the credits roll, he shifts, ready to go to bed. Seemingly, she’s already passed the point of exhaustion, eyes closed and chest heaving slowly. Jumin wonders how long she has been asleep and whether he should wake her. He yawns, standing up. It’s dark and it would be dangerous to send her home at this time. That is what he tells himself, at least.

 That night he brought her to his guest room, now being unable to forget about it. She went home early the next morning and insisted that she leave immediately. The next day he was given a gift from her, an apology for her accidentally falling asleep. If she gave it to him in person, he would have returned it, she need not apologize for something a friend should do. Although, he cannot help but feel flattered by it. She gave him a navy-blue tie from one of his favorite brands. The material is soft against his fingers; he incorporates it in his outfit for the party.

 The day of the party comes quickly, it is at a different location his time because it’s become much vaster. The area is loud, everyone talks cheerfully with each other. Business owners negotiate and bond over shared interests. The same brewer he told her about that was invited to the party was so flattered that he gifted several bottles of his product for it. He notices it being served at the bar.

 Jumin continues to scan the room, firstly wanting to congratulate MC. He walks around until he feels a tap to his shoulder. It’s a very excited Saeyoung.

 “Jumin! We’ve been looking for you.” Seven steps back, motioning for Jumin to follow. He rounds the corner and immediately notices a familiar tuff of teal hair. He joins the circle, adjusting his sleeve.

 “Good afternoon, everyone. The party seems to be a success.” He pops into the conversation in his own giddy way. His excitement doesn’t show, it almost never does.

 “Jumin, greetings! We’re glad you could make it.” V smiles wholeheartedly, nodding his head in his companion’s direction.

 Yoosung smiles as well, chiming up when he sees him. “The party just gets better every year with MC! She’s just amazing at what she does.” His eyes glimmer with adoration. 

  Zen crosses his arms, looking around. “Of course, she works her ass off every year, and it pays off. I worry about if she doesn’t take time to relax.” It’s no surprise that Zen worries for her well-being, the multiple lectures in the chat rooms prove just that. 

 “I’m sure she takes time for breaks; she also knows that we’re here to help with the guests of needed be.” Jahee pushes up her glasses, “Good afternoon, Mr. Han.”

 Jumin straightens his posture, “Where is MC at?” His mind returns to its original concern, craving to see her again after their last meeting. 

 Jihyun places a hand on his shoulder playfully. “She left a few minutes ago to give her speech on the stage, she should be there any moment now- “

 Ironically, at that moment, the sound of the mic booms through the speakers, silencing the room.

 Jumin is left speechless when he spots her. She wears an elegant dress that reaches just below her knees. It has a V-cut front with golden embroidery; being tight around her hips. She screams utter elegance, and he cannot look away.

 Awkwardly, she readies the mic, smiling at everyone in the room. A part of him wishes he were the only one to see it. She looks around, taking a deep breath. “Thank you to everyone who could be here and join us this evening; your presence today means a lot.”

 Her eyes catch his own, everything feels like it’s in slow motion now. All but his heart that has seemingly quickened its pace. He wants to pull her to the side, to hold her close to his chest so she can physically feel exactly what she does to him. She touches her neck, smiling a little wider. That same smile that absolutely captivates him. Even as she looks away, he cannot stop his own lingering stare. She looks so ridiculously happy, so pure- beautiful. 

 Jumin only realizes he was holding his breath when everyone begins applauding her speech around him. He joins, swallowing gently to bring himself back to reality. To his right is an open balcony, one that he quickly moves to catch some fresh air.

 It’s brisk outside, but it helps his body cool down faster than it would in the crowded room. He knows the best thing to do is wait and speak to her with a clear mind, urges aside. Taking a deep breath, he holds it until his lungs burn. Feeling almost ashamed of himself, disgusted with how greedy he feels tonight. He moves out of the view of the party, standing alone and gazing upon the city lights. 

 “Hey stranger.” There is a shuffling noise as the presence of another accompanies him. Jumin glances to his side, MC is looking him up and down. “It’s unlike you to leave a room like that, are you alright?”

 He is fine, in the physical sense, so he nods his head in retaliation. “Yes, I found myself getting hot and needed the fresh air. I’d like to congratulate you on the party, yet again, it was a success.”

 She places her head on her hand, sighing exhaustedly. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me. I’m so glad you think so. I have been so stressed out lately because of it. I’d also like to thank you for last week, you didn’t have to let me fall asleep, let alone take me to your guest bedroom.” She grins sheepishly, tucking her hand beneath his tie. “I’m also happy that you liked your gift, I saw it and thought about you.” Her fingers softly glide along the fabric.

Her lips are a burgundy color, he cannot help but notice as she comes closer. He wonders if she thinks the same way as him. Jumin looks into her eyes to see if he can find the answer there. Instead, she simply wraps her arms around him, swaying from left to right gently. There is no music, but she makes her own rhythm. “You should dance with me.”

 Her hand is now in his, his arm cradling her back and pulling her closer as they move in unition. He finds himself speechless, only focused on the steps she makes. He thinks of all the ways he could confess to her, forgetting just why he had never said anything in the past. Because when he sees her now it’s almost as if he had been struck by Cupid’s arrow.

 He stops moving, lips parting open as he looks down at her. He wants to speak, but the words do not come. His mind is suddenly blank. Her eyes flicker for a moment before her head comes closer, he can feel her hot breath against his skin. By instinct, he tilts his head to the side, drawing in like a magnet.

 Their lips join finally when she stands on her toes. She tastes sweet, better than even the finest of wines. He immediately pulls her closer, years of pent up feelings releasing themselves in a single kiss. His hands are traveling everywhere on her body that he has ever longed to feel. When his tongue glides against her lower lip she gasps, running a hand through his hair. He moves his lips elsewhere, peppering kissing along her gnaw and down her neck.

 Jumin speaks between breaths. “I’m tired of pretending that I don’t want you.” His voice is low as he continues, now kissing her shoulder. This only makes her blush and forcefully hold back a moan.

 Right as his lips meet the scratchy fabric of her dress, he pulls away completely. “If you feel the same way, meet me at my apartment after the party.” There’s a sincere look in his eyes as he gazes at her, he’s softer than usual. His hands adjust his coat and hair before he walks back inside, disappearing from her view.

[keichanz]

More Than

so i was listening to the song More Than My Hometown by Morgan Wallen which is now my new obsession and i shit you not, the ending to this little drab popped into my brain so fast i knew i had to write it down. thus, this angsty little blurb was born. 

now as i was writing, i realized that it was giving off sooo many One Last Ride vibes, written by the ever so talented @lemonlushff​​, that i decided to tweak this so it could tuck somewhere into the story itself as a sort of unofficially official glimpse of their breakup. i’m happy to report that it has Lemon’s official seal of approval and she loved it! 

so now i’m gonna share it with all you fine folks and i hope you enjoy it too! :) and since it is in the OLR universe, there will be angst hahahaa. 

so this is for you Lemon, my sweet and sour friend~ ❤️ 

one last thing--i highly recommend either having the song above playing while you read this, or at least listen to it beforehand. yes, it’s a country song, but it really is so good and the lyrics - which i’ve italicized and bolded - seem to reflect Inuyasha’s thoughts perfectly, which is why i thought it fit so well with OLR’s theme. 

....shit okay one last last thing: i swear to fuck that the ending jumped out of a scene from a goddamn western harlequin romance novel with its level of cliche and drama and yes i am entirely proud of that fact ;ljadfilajflkahjsfue

She stood beside the bed, feeling empty, cold, hollow as she stared down at the pillows and blankets. It was still unmade, the sheets twisted, messy from her hasty retreat just that morning. Tears burned her eyes as she remembered why; the argument, the begging, the screaming. The heartbreak.

Her heart twinged and Kagome gasped, closing her eyes as she brought up a hand to cover her mouth. Was this…was this really it? Were they really going to leave things like this, unresolved and painful between them? God, she didn’t want to. She wanted to run outside, run through the night to his house, throw open the front door and beg him to—

Her bedroom door crashed open and Kagome gasped, whirling around with wide, liquid eyes, heart in her throat. Golden eyes, furious, hard, bore into her own and suddenly a heat suffused her body, chasing away the previous chill, and her stomach swooped as he shut the door and stalked toward her.

Her breath left her in a stuttered exhale, body trembling, coming alive from the heat in his gaze.

“Inuy—”

“Shut up,” he growled, grabbing her waist, hauling her in tight against him. His lips fell over hers, swallowing her gaps, the crush of his mouth hard, unforgiving, punishing.

Hands – frantic, desperate – removed clothing, touching, grabbing, caressing. They fell on the bed in tangle of limbs, skin against skin, heart against heart, flushed, needy, desperate. Growls, moans, whispered pleas echoed throughout the darkness of the room as they rocked together, moving in a dance as old as time. Fingers grasping sweat slicked skin, hearts thundering wildly and then perfectly syncing in a moment of euphoric completion. A stuttered breath, a gasp of a name; then silence.

Tears trekked down her flushed face as she was gathered against a hard chest, as familiar arms wrapped around her stated body and held her as she cried.

Girl, our mamas are best friends and so are we The whole town's rooting for us like the home team Most likely to settle down Plant a few roots real deep and let 'em grow

Kagome stood in front of the full-length mirror and ran a brush through her still damp hair, the yellow and blue sundress she wore complimenting the blue of her eyes. Blue eyes that were dull as they stared at her reflection, but didn’t really see it.

Which was just as well. She didn’t know why she picked this dress to wear, but had felt compelled to wear it anyway, even if looking at it made the vice on her heart tighten even more.

A gentle knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she blinked. Kagome turned her head in time to watch her mother crack open the door and poke her head inside, her smile kind, but her eyes sad. The older woman took in her daughter and her smile faded, but she didn’t comment as she stepped inside.

“Souta brought the car around,” she said softly. “And the keys are in it. Do you need help with your bags?”

“No,” Kagome answered and looked at her reflection again. “I packed most of them in the car last night. I just have my carry-on left.”

Mama nodded but said nothing as gazed at her daughter. Her heart ached at the pain she saw reflected in those dear features, in the eyes were that identical to her late husband’s—Kagome’s father.

“Kagome…” she started, but then sighed as those sad, sad eyes turned toward her once again. Mama shook her head. “Are you going to say goodbye?”

Kagome’s breath hitched. She didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and tried to ignore the butterflies that took flight in her belly.

“I…I’m going to try,” she whispered and god help her, but she couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes. “But Mama, I don’t…he probably doesn’t want to see…”

Her throat tightened and she pressed her lips tightly together to stifle the sob that welled up. Immediately arms, warm and familiar, surrounded her. Kagome buried her face in her mother’s shoulder as the tears spilled from her eyes.

“I’ll talk to Izayoi,” Mama murmured and kissed her daughter’s head, her heart aching for her little girl as she felt her own eyes getting hot with the threat of tears. “If anyone can talk some sense into that boy, it’s his mother.”

Kagome sniffled and nodded, grateful that her mother would help her in this endeavor. It was unlikely he’d want to see her, but she had to at least try…

Closing her eyes as her mother rubbed her back and smoothed her hair, Kagome clung to her mother and let herself remember, the memories flashing before her mind’s eye and then fading away just as quickly, only to be replaced by another one, fresher, more precious, more painful than the one before.

But we can't stop this real world from spinnin' us Your bright lights called, I don't blame you for pickin' up Your big dream bags are all packed up and ready to go But I just need you to know

“Shhh! Quit laughing or they’ll hear us!”

Another badly stifled giggle echoed in the night as he drew her into the darkness of the trees, toward their secret spot they’d found years ago. One hand held a six pack while the other held tight to her hand, fingers laced, and he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face before an exhilarated chuckle of his own burst from his lips.

Darkness gave way to the orange glow of a fire, the soft crackling of wood breaking the stillness of the night.

“Why is this so good?”

“Because we’re seventeen.”

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

“Shut up and maybe we won’t be.”

“Hey, this was your idea—”

The rest of the words were stolen in a kiss, a hand coming up to cradle her jaw as a ragged sigh whispered against her lips. He tasted like beer and spearmint gum. She smiled. A strange combination, but it was him, and she loved it.

--

“You should have seen it, Inuyasha,” Kagome gushed a year later, sitting on her bed as she excitedly gushed about her time in LA to her best friend. “The sunset was absolutely gorgeous, like nothing you’ve ever seen before! God, I wish you were there with me. I just know you’d love it.”

Inuyasha smiled and reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I doubt I can love anything more than you.”

Blue eyes widened as a flush spread across her cheeks; her breath hitched, lips forming his name and eyes drifting closed as he leaned forward and took her mouth in a warm, lazy kiss.

--

“Would you ever wanna go?”

“Go where?” Fingers racked through dark hair and her sigh was blissful, a soft melody in his ears.

“California.”

“…You mean like…visit?”

“Well, maybe longer than a visit…like an extended trip, or something…lots of opportunities out that way…”

A brief pause before the fingers continued. “No. …Do you?”

“Mmm…dunno. Maybe after graduation? I had so much fun last time, but…”

“But what?”

A pause. Then, “Nothing. Kiss me.”

A husky chuckle before a pair of lips covered her own and any thoughts about the Golden State far, far from her mind as she returned his kiss.

That I love you more than a California sunset More than a beer when you ain't twenty-one yet More than a Sunday morning Lord Turnin' some poor lost souls 'round, Hallelujah bound

“Ewww, get that away from me!”

“C’mon Kagome, it’s just a worm! It ain’t gonna bite ya!”

“Eeee! Inuyasha, don’t you dare—!”

Laughter as he chased her around with a baited hook, the sound of water splashing as bare feet waded into the lake.

“Wait, I think I got something!”

The crank of a fishing rod as he reeled it in, the water splashing as whatever was caught struggled against the pull. Grunting, muttered curses, and soft giggling before with a splash the bass burst from the water, dangling from the hook.

“You got it!”

“Damn, ain’t nothing more satisfying than that feeling when the bass hits the hook!”

“I can think of one thing…”

Soft lips, warm and smiling, pressed against his own and Inuyasha abruptly decided that yeah, this was definitely better.

--

“California?”

“Yeah! Can’t you just imagine it, Inuyasha? The lights, the nightlife, the ocean, and no more snow! You always complain about the snow.”

“Yeah, but…Kagome, I don’t know…”

“Just think about it, okay? I’m not asking for you to decide right now. But this is something I’ve thought about for a while now, Inuyasha, and I just…I want to experience it with you. Please?”

A pause, and then heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

A brilliant smile, soft lips pressing to his cheek in a warm kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

“…I know, Kagome. Me, too.”

--

“I can’t believe you’re reading that crap.”

“It’s not crap, it’s romantic. You could probably learn something or two from these books, you uncultured dog.”

“Uncultured? Really?”

“Besides, I like it when the guy gets the girl at the end. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

“I can make you feel all warm and fuzzy, too.”

Her gasp was cut off as lips pressed against her neck and hands slipped beneath her shirt to roam across soft skin. The book fell from her fingers to dive into silver hair, eyes closing as her head fell back with a breathy sigh.

--

“Yes.”

The blood was rushing so loudly in his ears he barely heard her and the thundering of his heart against his chest was so forceful, it was a wonder it didn’t leap out into her waiting hands. 

“Y-yes?” he echoed, voice naught but a disbelieving rasp as he stared at her with wide, shocked - and cautiously hopeful - golden eyes.

A half-sob, half-laugh burst from her lips and her eyes were bright from more than just the unshed tears brimming the beautiful depths.  Lips trembled as she smiled, hand trembling even more as she held it out before her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Inuyasha, I’ll marry you. I—”

What she felt next wasn’t the cool metal of his grandmother’s ring as it found a new home on her finger, but instead the warmth of her beloved’s hand as it wrapped around hers and yanked her forward into his arms. They tumbled to the ground, laughing, crying, exchanging endless kisses and promises of forever as the ring, forgotten on the ground but still nestled within the velvet box, glittered merrily in the warm glow of the fire.

Yeah, I love you more than the feeling when the bass hits a hook When the guy gets the girl at the end of the book But, baby, this might be the last time I get to lay you down 'Cause I can't love you more than my hometown

“Come with me.”

Silence; thick, stony. Cold.

Desperation made her voice high, the words falling from her lips fast. “Inuyasha, please, come back with me—we’d have such an amazing time together, learning, living and—you can enroll in my school, Inuyasha! It’s not too late, there are so many programs to choose from, and I just think you can do so much more with your life than—”

“Than what, Kagome?” The words were snapped, harsh, biting as he whirled around to peg her with a hard stare. “Than taking on the valued responsibility of the ranch that’s been in my family for fucking generations? Than building our fucking house? You know, the one we'll live in after we’re married? I can’t do that, Kagome. I won’t.”

“But that’s just it, Inuyasha, you have no room to grow here! You’re stifled by the responsibility you feel to take over the ranch when leaving could relieve you of that burden! The world is so big, Yash, and there’s so much more beyond this little town, so if you would just trust me—”

“You’re asking me to drop and leave everything I know behind, Kagome!” His voice was loud, thunderous in his anger, his frustration, his pain. “This my home, our home, and you just want me to leave like it don’t even matter! Like the fucking life I’m trying to build for us don’t even matter!”

“That’s why I’m asking you to come with me!” Tears, hot, salty ran unchecked down her face, blue eyes big and pleading and flashing with undisguised panic. “I want to be with you, Inuyasha, I do, but I need you to understand—!”

“Then be with me here, dammit!” A note of desperation, amber eyes pleading, frantic, angry.

A choked sob, a muffled whimper. “I can’t…”

An anguished sound, a shattered cry, and then a door slamming shut, loud, devastating, final.

--

The words slammed into him harder than any blow he’d ever received, the shock greater than hitting the unforgiving ground after falling off a horse, and the pain far, far worse than he ever could have imagined.

Fuck, it would have hurt less if she’d just outright slapped him in the face.

She wouldn’t look at him, her gaze focused on the ground, dark hair hiding her expression. He swallowed once, twice; his mouth felt like a desert, his tongue heavy, thick, useless. His throat worked but no sound came out. Ice replaced the blood in his veins, freezing his lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“Wh…what did you s…” He shook his head, swayed on his feet as he blinked hard. He couldn't have heard her right. She couldn't have just told him—

“…I cheated on you. Inuyasha, I—”

He didn’t hear the rest of what she said. His legs abruptly gave out and he stumbled back, sitting down hard onto the fallen log behind him. The log he’d proposed to her on. The log they’d kissed on—

He shook his head again, a frown pulling his brows down low over his eyes as he tried to register the words spilling from her mouth a mile a minute. Two days…two days ago. That—that didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t—he couldn’t smell anything, couldn’t detect any sort of incriminating evidence that suggested she’d been unfaithful. 

Amber eyes lifted, flashing with tentative hope. She’d been drunk—she didn’t remember, so maybe if he told her—

The sight of his grandmother’s ring, nestled in the middle of her palm, might as well have been his heart because it sure as sure shit felt like she’d just ripped it out of his chest. His stomach clenched, the breath seized in his lungs, and a curious numbness spread throughout his entire body. The realization hit him even harder than the pain had, and that in and of itself would have brought him to his knees had he not already been sitting. 

Honeyed eyes, agonized, pleading, lifted to her face. Again she would not meet his gaze, eyes closed against the tears that spilled down her cheeks. He suddenly tasted salt and with a start he realized he was crying too, the tears warm as they streaked down his pale face but he gave them no mind. 

“K…Kagome…” It was the only thing he could get through a throat tight from anguish. A plea, a prayer, a question all in one as he stared at her, heedless of the tears that continued to fall. 

Her eyes squeezed shut and she shook her head; a clenched sob broke from her lips as she reached forward, grabbed his hand, closed his fingers around the ring, giving it back, giving back his heart that she no longer wanted. Pain, sharp and intense, pierced through him and he gasped, unable to do a damned thing as she backed away from him, arms folded around herself.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, shaking her head, over and over, backing away. “I just…I can’t…”

A sob, borne of a sorrow so deep, of regret and fear and pain so sharp it felt it in the very marrow of his bones, broke free of her lips right before she whirled around and dashed away, through the night, through the trees, away from the fire, away from him.

Inuyasha could do nothing but sit there, his rejected grandmother’s ring clutched in his fist and his vision blurry from hot tears as he watched her run. Curious, that instead of the crushing pain he expected to feel in his chest, there was a hollow ache that resonated, like an echo of a mournful howl for the one who had just run away with his heart.

What hurt more than the pain of watching her go, however, and more than the diamond cutting into his palm, was the jarring realization that the woman he loved more than his own life would rather fabricate a lie of infidelity than be with him. 

And because he loved her more than his own happiness…he’d let her. 

I ain't the runaway kind, I can't change that My heart's stuck in these streets like the train tracks City sky ain't the same black Ain't that a map dot shame, man, to think that

Sitting on his bed, freshly showered and donned in simple jeans and a t-shirt, Inuyasha’s head was bowed between his shoulders and his arms were propped on his knees. His hands, clenched into tight fists, gradually relaxed and a breath he hadn’t’ even realized he’d been holding rushed from his lungs, escaping his mouth in a harsh exhale that did absolutely nothing to absolve the torment wreaking his mind.

As the last vestiges of the memory faded away, far more painful than all the ones before, he opened his eyes and stared down at the hardwood floor, scuffed and scratched and worn. He frowned, his chest feeling tight, his stomach in knots, his muscles tensing and relaxing with a restless energy that was hard to ignore. He wanted to punch something, to run, to fight, fight for her to stay, fight for them.

But he remained where he was, hands flexing, jaw clenched, eyes shut tight against the pain that was determined to bring him to his knees. God, why, why did she have to—

Gentle rapping on the door before it was cracked open. He didn’t look up but he didn’t need to; he knew why she was here. The ache in his chest intensified, sharped, traveled up to knot in his throat and make it harder to breathe.

She didn’t say anything at first, simply stared. Then, “…She wants to see you.”

Inuyasha turned his head, looked out the window.

A pause. Then a sigh, resigned, sad. “Asako called. Before she showed up at the door, I mean. Asked me to talk to you. Said I would, but didn’t make any promises.” Pause. “You already know how I feel about her doing this, but…you should at least say goodbye. You’ll regret it if you don’t. You know you will.”

A tightening of his jaw and a deep furrowing of his brow was her response.

“…I’m sorry, my love.”

The door closed with a soft click.

A minute passed. Two. Three.

Inuyasha exploded to his feet, grabbed the lamp on the nightstand, and hurled it against the wall with a roar that was equal parts rage, frustration, and deep, intense anguish that reverberated throughout the entire house; echoing, thunderous, shattering.

Deafening silence followed his outburst; he sank to his knees and wept.

I love you more than a California sunset More than a beer when you ain't twenty-one yet More than a Sunday morning Lord Turnin' some poor lost souls around, Hallelujah bound Yeah, I love you more than the feeling when the bass hits a hook When the guy gets the girl at the end of the book But, baby, this might be the last time I get to lay you down Cause I can't love you more than my hometown

It was impossible not to hear it. As the color drained from Kagome’s face and her heart clenched in her chest, Izayoi stared at her with eyes hardened from the ache she was feeling for her son, the sorrow she felt at his heartbreak twisted into bitter, resentful anger at the woman standing before her.

Kagome closed her eyes, bit her lip to stifle the sob that welled in her throat, sucked in a shaky breath meant to harden her resolve. It didn’t and she fought not to fall apart on the front porch, locking knees that threatened to give out on her.

“Go,” Izayoi muttered in a voice like flint and ignored the younger woman’s flinch. “You’ve done enough damage here. And I’m not talking about whatever he just destroyed.”

Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes. Her throat tightened, preventing any words, protests, to spill from her mouth. She stared at the older woman with wide eyes, someone who she, for the longest time, had looked upon as a second mother, someone to confide in, to trust.

She found none of the warmth that she was used to seeing. No fondness, no compassion, no understanding. Coldness spread through Kagome’s veins, turning her blood to ice, knotting in her stomach, heavy, uncomfortable.

Izayoi stared back, cold, unforgiving, unregretful.

“I’m sorry,” Kagome whispered.

The older woman pressed her lips into a thin line and looked away, arms tight across her chest.

Rejected, heartbroken, Kagome turned, her feet feeling heavy as they carried her back to her car. The tears ran unchecked down her face now, streaming down pale cheeks. She tasted salt and she got in the vehicle, closed the door. Her body felt like it was on autopilot as she revved the engine and started down the long dirt driveway.

It wasn’t until she had gone halfway that she broke down, great, gasping sobs erupting from her throat. Her vision was blurry from the unending tears and her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Without even realizing it her foot had slipped from the accelerator and she was merely coasting now, too distraught, too tormented to think about anything else but the pain ravaging her heart. Unbidden one last memory, the most recent, flashed before her mind’s eye, twisting the knife keeper, crushing her, killing her…

“Don’t do this.”

He froze at the softly uttered words, spoken in a tone so raw with pain that it trembled. He swallowed hard and turned his head just the slightest bit, but said nothing.

Silence. Thick, tense, deafening.

Then he tightened his jaw, hardened his eyes, and continued putting his boots on.

A choked sob, the rustle of cloth. “Inuyasha, please—”

“I’m sorry.”

He stood up from the side of the bed and refused to look at her as he collected his jacket, still sitting in a heap on the floor from where it was hastily thrown the night before.

A stuttered breath, followed by the salty scent of tears. His lips drew into a tight line and his hands fisted tightly at his sides as he forced himself to head toward the door. But, goddamn him, he paused right in front of it, hand on the knob, jaw clenched so hard it ached.

“Please,” she begged and the word was a raspy plea, vision blurry from tears. “If you would just—we can talk about this—”

“I love you, Kagome,” Inuyasha said and he heard her sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t turn around. He swallowed once, twice, and closed his eyes as he opened his mouth and forced the words past a throat tight with emotion.

“Inu—”

“But I can’t…love you more than this. I just…I can’t.”

Another sob, a hitched breath, and his chest ached. He bowed his head.

“See you around, Kagome,” he whispered and left, his footsteps fading down the hallway and down the stairs until the slam of the front door echoed in the dark house.

Kagome dropped her face into her hands and wept.

The front door burst open and Inuyasha was desperation personified as he rushed past his alarmed mother, sprinting as fast as he could toward the barn that held the horses. Not even a full minute later a white blur sped from the barn and bolted through the open gate of the pasture, following the car that was leaving with his love, his soul, his very heart.

Standing on the porch, Izayoi pressed a hand to her heart while the other covered her mouth, muffling the sob that burst from her lips as teary eyes watched her son chase after the woman who broke his heart.

'Cause I love you more than a California sunset I love you more in a twenty-dollar sundress Hate that loaded down car you got your keys in Girl, but I hate even more that you're leavin'

Urging his mount to go faster, harder, the thundering of her hooves against the ground rivaled that of the thundering of his heart in his chest. Hands gripping the coarse hair of her mane, Inuyasha grit his teeth against the harsh wind, his eyes wild, desperate and bright with unshed tears as he kicked the mare’s flanks to go faster, dammit, faster!

The distance between them was closing, the rumble of the engine, of gravel crunching beneath tires becoming louder until he was riding alongside her, along the fence that enclosed the front pasture. His hands fisted his mount’s mane in a while-knuckled grip as he leaned over her neck, legs tight to her sides.

He turned his head and wild, despairing golden eyes collided with wide, tear-filled blue.

Kagome’s heart lurched in her chest, making her gasp as goosebumps erupted on her skin. She sobbed, shaking her head, mouthing his name and forcing her eyes to look straight ahead. What—what was he doing?! Why?! God, he was making this even harder than it already was, taking her heart and stomping on it, cruel, cold, conniving.

But it made sense, didn’t it.

She had broken his heart, and now he was doing the same to her.

'Cause I love you more than the feeling when the bass hits a hook When the guy gets the girl at the end of the book But that ain't you and me so I guess I'll see you around 'Cause I can't love you more than my hometown

Inuyasha didn’t let up, not even when she looked away, gritting his teeth, kicking his mount to keep up when she accelerated. She was crying, and although he couldn’t hear her, he could see the way she shook, shoulders jerking, chest heaving, face wet from her tears and fuck she was wearing the sundress—

The end of the drive was in sight. Kagome slowed down, so did he, but she didn’t stop as she once again turned her head and caught his gaze. Inuyasha was already staring at her, heart in his eyes, a silent plea falling from his lips, willing her to hear….

“Don’t go.”

A sob, raw, choked, anguished.

“I’m sorry.”

Without even realizing, he let up on his mount, the mare slowing to a trot, a walk, and then stood still, recovering from the hard gallop. Golden eyes, awash with ears, watched the car reach the end of the drive and turn, driving away, going, going, getting smaller, fading.

Gone.

Something inside Inuyasha shattered and he didn’t think it could ever, ever be repaired.

Love you more than my hometown Love you more than my hometown Love you more, baby, love you more

[1oserjk]

— full stop | 02

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

a series.

a messy divorce, unrequited feelings, and a five year old.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

01 ⇋ 03

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

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full stop | 02: kim seol: the new girlfriend

“Here, again?” Jimin teases when your figure slips through the door and the greeting bell goes off. 

Your lips quirked up and you arch a brow. “Of course.” The bags are heavy, almost straining your fingers completely when you weakly attempt to set them on the front counter. The shorter man doesn’t even offer to help, only snickering from his spot behind it. “If I stopped doing this thing for you guys, you’d all starve,” you explain plainly. 

And Jimin knew for a fact, that you were right. Everybody around the shop absolutely sucked at remembering their proper eating times and would skip it for most of the missed opportunities when it’d be too late - solely for the fact that they were always so busy. Ever since you’ve been dropping off food for Jungkook during the time of being together, you’ve added Jimin and Taehyung onto the list whenever they’d whine and complain over the food they would forget to order and pick up themselves. 

Without you, they’d probably be cranky, tired, and a few pounds less. 

And you were greatly aware that even with all of the teasing Jimin and Taehyung had given you, they appreciated it a whole lot when you’d come in with bags full of take-out, especially when you’d continue to do so, even after the divorce. They’ve tried to let you down slowly, assuring you that they’d take care of themselves on their own to make it easier for you, but you shook their offer off and told them you’d be fine anyway. 

Taehyung had already sensed the food down the hall, barrelling through, trying to grab his share of it. 

You remembered the first time he told you his order, and ever since then, you hadn’t asked him for it again, already memorizing each of theirs and strolling through the shop within thirty minutes.

You poke at his rib when he fails to greet you, searching for the disposable chopsticks in the bags. 

“Hey, _____,” he mindlessly murmurs. 

“Make sure to get the extra box in there,” you point. “I got an extra serving of vegetables for all of you.”

They both whine, Taehyung practically throwing his head back in decline. 

You wave them off. “It’s take-out ninety percent of your days in here, at least get some nutrition in,” you request. 

He reluctantly takes it in the end, and beelines straight towards his den, kicking the door shut. 

You blink a few times before Jimin has to explain, “He’s been busy these days, a client wants a style he’s never done before.” 

“Oh,” you say, before you timidly suggest, “Jungkook can’t—?” 

He shrugs. “You know how his client list always looks.” 

You nod slowly. 

“He’ll pop up in Taehyung’s section sometimes and help him, but he’s been alone most days trying to figure his own shit out.” 

“I,” you timidly start, “Is he.. He’s eating, right?” You can’t help but grow weary, already knowing fully well when Jungkook would go on like this, enrapturing himself fully into the job, almost isolating himself and barely realizing the damage he’d do to his own body after not resting or eating properly on most days. He’d have to be reminded of these sorts of things. 

Jimin nods, catching onto your eyes that bounce back and forth towards his closed door. “Yeah. He’s actually been eating out most days..” He drags off, sheepishly tugging at the ends of his hair on his nape. 

Your brows shot up in full shock, before they turned a bit confused. “Oh,” you pause before asking, “Really? For what?” 

His mouth opens precautiously, avoiding your eyes and looking off to his own drawings, like the answer would be clearly written on the papers. “I—He’s been, you know-“ 

You don’t. Not until the door of your ex-husband’s open up, and he comes out — smiling, eyes crinkling in the corners, almost looking well-rested, dark rings under his eyes finally cured. It’s a pleasant surprise - to see him recovered enough to actually smile, and not the straining ones that almost hurt to do. A real one. 

It almost makes you want to smile back. 

You refrain from doing so when you see another figure come right beside him. 

Kim Seol, the receptionist for Golden Closet: Tattoos & Piercings, being way too close with the owner for only just being a mundane receptionist who guides clients and bookings. 

Just from a mere glimpse of them, his arm that was reached out to the back of her, most likely his fingers splayed across the small of it — that none of this was business. 

He doesn’t even notice you at first, too pleased by whatever the female had previously said before the door had opened up. 

Jimin lets out a few coughs and grunts, to get the younger’s attention and maybe a head-start warning. 

It’s Seol who finally realizes. “Oh, uh.” She nervously looks away immediately when she meets your gaze and shuffles herself some distance away from Jungkook. You watch carefully when the arm on her lower back falls slowly, and only turn your attention back to Jungkook when it lands softly to his side. 

His eyes grow surprised, almost widening before calmly letting it trace over your presence. “_____,” he calls. “Hey - I.. I didn’t know you were going to be visiting.” They both slowly head over, only the counter separating you from him, and in this situation — fortunately. 

You clear your throat and nod. “Uh, yeah.” The plastic bag full of his memorized order rustles behind your back, fingers tightening at the strands. “I’m actually about to leave - had to give something to Jimin first.” You muster up a tight lipped smile and nod over to the keys in his hand. “Were you guys about to head out?” You question with feigned curiosity. “To lunch?” 

Jimin winces. 

Seol speaks first when Jungkook fails to say anything at all, mouth only gaping and closing. “Yeah,” she confirms, looking up at the man beside her. “We actually were.” 

You smile again and step aside, a wide gap for them to cross over. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

Seol moves her feet, already the closest to the door. You don’t even bother turning to observe her. Jungkook though, he stays rooted in his spot. You both look expectantly at him, and it’s almost like there were contrasting sides to choose from, either explain himself to you - even if he wasn’t exactly obligated to, or leave, wondering how you felt about the clear insinuation between Seol and him. Especially when you’ve voiced your clear unsureness of the female since the beginning of her working for the shop. 

Out of all people, he chose to go out with one of your biggest insecurities and main problems that were rooted in your relationship from the past. 

You hear footsteps pat softly behind you until they are wearily close. Seol takes the keys from his hand and announces, “I’ll start the car for us.” 

Us.

You tongue the inside of your cheek, a habit you’ve grown from Jungkook when things become too complex to comprehend properly. The keys jingle in her hand with every step, almost ringing in your ear obnoxiously, until you hear the door being pushed open and the greeting bell going off again. You scoff quietly, like she’s taunting you and holding what you don’t have over your head, what she finally got a hold of when she was given the proper chance. Of course. 

You, Jungkook, and Jimin sit in absolute silence - save for the soft R&B in the background, courteous of Kim Taehyung who’s probably continuing to stuff his face with no clue on what’s going on outside of his office. 

Jimin pats his thighs and maneuvers himself away from the situation, chair rolling away when he pushes himself off of it. “I’m going to go and finish my food with Taehyung, because uh, he might need help.” He nods to himself. 

“You pierce, though,” Jungkook says flatly. 

He gets hit on the back and pinched on the elbow by the shorter man, an expression held over his face that had clearly read that he was definitely on his own for this particular situation, especially when it involved you. “If Taehyung wants me to draw a cat perched on top of a tree branch, I’ll fucking do it.” 

Jimin stealthily makes his exit and lets you bask in your own overwhelming thoughts and opinions. 

After a couple of minutes of planning on what Jungkook would exactly say to all of this, he takes a step forward, “_____,” he attempts. 

You raise a hand up and only smile - the only thing you could really do in this situation, only because: of fucking course you would land yourself in something like this. It’d be bound to happen sooner or later, though definitely not even close to being prepared for the former to happen this quickly, almost ramming into your chest until it burns and aches. 

You shake your head, taking one timid step back. “Don’t,” you order firmly. “At least, not right now.”

He falters. “Then, when?” 

You automatically feel like crying, to weep like a fucking schoolgirl for being played, but in no way, you were allowed to feel like this, not even close. It still doesn’t excuse how shitty you feel right now. When your eyes meet with his, they almost do, leaning more on just letting the surface wetten a bit before you’d get in your car and speed home to cry in your own privacy. But even then, you wouldn’t even be able to, not when you had Yeona who’d wonder why in the world her own mother was crying, not when she looked up to you, and definitely not when you made sure to keep her own happiness and this situation at bay. You have work, a multitude of chores to do, dinner to make, a lot of things to keep you busy from this. You had time to suppress all of these emotions that were close to bubbling and spilling over, making a big mess for you to clean up as a result. 

“When I’m ready to take what you give me.” 

Fortunately, he doesn’t stop you from exiting the shop. 

You hold the bag tightly to your chest, until you’ve reached the outside of the parking lot and a nearby trash can to dispose of it, extra servings of vegetables and all. 

-

Three days pass by, and it’s a friday night.

Usually, Jungkook would be elated to reach his shared apartment, opening a few bottles of beers and settling his feet on the coffee table Seokjin would forbid him from actually doing. 

But tonight, it’s different. 

Tonight is a date night. 

His plans were to take Seol to another restaurant he hasn’t tried before but claimed it was good enough, and fill in the hours of the evening to wine and long conversations. 

He had taken a long and drawn out pause over the course of a couple of years when it came to dating, but he figured he’d give it a try after finding out about Seol’s interest in him. She made it quite obvious when he had hired her, which should’ve been a red flag from the very start - since he was married during that exact time. But instead, he chose to ignore it and keep it professional for the time being until he found another person to take over. However, she quickly became part of the shop and he had never once thought about firing her again after that, even if he was aware of how bad the feeling sat within you when he would tell you about the new employee. 

It wasn’t out of a place of jealousy or insecurity, you simply knew the type of person she was. You knew that about a lot of people. You were always quick-witted and knew exactly who to be associated with and who would plainly waste your time. Seol was definitely one of those people that ended up on the odd end of the spectrum, where everybody thought nothing wrong of her, while you had a few silent urges to question her, and if you would actually voice out your opinion about her - they would all call you insecure and delusional. 

His intention was to never let you assume that he had gotten with Seol to pick a bone with you, or to plainly be a dick. He’d never. 

A few personal conversations started, things had happened, and the rest is only history. Granted, it had only been a few weeks spending time with her, but he liked it. He saw it as being lonely, and he thought there would be nothing wrong with that. 

Turns out, he’s absolutely wrong in every possible way.

“You’re fucked,” is all Jimin says. The chair he pulls up screeches against the floors of the building and Jungkook winces. 

“Yeah,” he ends up agreeing with before rhetorically asking, “You don’t think Seokjin has already said that?” Anxious fingers reach up to his hair and tugs, sighing out harshly with tightly shut eyes. As soon as he had informed his roommate over the phone about the situation, he was scolded and cursed at. 

The older shrugs. “I’m here to remind you.” 

“Fuck off,” he breathes with a glare. “I have to leave in twenty, anyway.” 

The other’s eyebrows knit together. “Where are you going?” 

“Some sushi restaurant with Seol,” he briefly explains. “It got good reviews on Yelp, so hopefully-“

“Whoa, wait,” Jimin stops him. “You’re going out again?” 

“It’s friday,” Jungkook tries to reason. 

Jimin scoffs. “Yeah, but it’s also been a few days since your ex-wife ran into your new thing.” 

“She’s not-“

“Doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively. “You didn’t call or text her to see if she was okay. Fuck, even a visit wouldn’t hurt.” 

“She still hasn’t given me the okay to contact her, what the fuck do you want me to do?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he repeats again. “She can’t keep guiding you through what hurts her and what doesn’t, you should know by now.” 

Jungkook slumps in his seat defeatedly, head thrown back and neck slightly sore from having to bend down for so long. He knew Jimin was right and that at some point, he’d have to face you. 

After a few elongated minutes of the thoughts that circled around his head, there was a soft knock to his door, and a small head peeking out from the corner of his vision. Seol smiles before widening the frame. 

Jimin sends her a polite smile before gently excusing himself and slipping out to head back to the front. 

“Hey,” she coaxes. “I thought we should head out since everything should be settling down by now. I’m pretty sure Jimin and Taehyung can handle the rest.” 

He slightly nods before sheepishly replying, “God, I’m sorry. I should have let you know beforehand..”

She shakes her head, walking up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You can tell me anything,” she assures. 

He sighs tiredly, “I don’t mean to cancel today—but I’ve been meaning to have dinner with my daughter this weekend.” 

“Oh,” she perks. “Yeona can tag along, I don’t really mind-“

He brings a hand up. “No, I mean with her alone - back at the house.” 

“Oh.” It’s set in a completely different tone, almost in distaste. “Are you sure? I swear I won’t mind if she’s there with us-“

“Seol,” he warns. “I want to have dinner with Yeona but I'm not going to exclude her own mother in it - I need to have a talk with her, anyway.” 

It’s not exactly what Seol wants to hear, but she musters herself up a tense smile, nodding rapidly. “I get it,” she promises. “Then, maybe another day for us.” 

He nods, reiterating with a promise, “Another day for us.” 

An abrupt kiss is delivered on his cheek and her wide eyes stare back at him when she bends down, “Just — Call me, okay?” 

He obliges. 

-

Tonight was a movie night. 

Yeona’s favorite night of the week, because it’s the one time she gets to fully indulge in her favorite pair of pizza and whatever animated movie she was currently obsessed with. It was a perfectly curated time to bond for the both of you. 

“Life of Pets?” 

She nods frantically. For a while, it had been The Croods, but she had shifted her interest as soon as your streaming service added the movie to their collections. You were grateful that her obsession ended when the movie in the past included a selfless father that made you tear up every single time he’d throw the family to the other side without him. Instead, she watches an exuberant bunny run around with determination at anything he did. 

Sighing, you relax into the blankets and dig into the food presented in front of you. 

True to your word — you still haven’t cried. Being busy around the house and with Yeona made it so much easier to maneuver your thoughts elsewhere, somewhere safe and with a key for you to open later. To open it, though, was surely questionable at this point, you weren’t even sure if you would end up letting it take over you or to just push it away completely, for your own sake.  

When the pets are finally introduced on the screen, she grapples onto your arm and gushes, “They are so cute. Mommy, look!” 

“Yeah,” you agree with a tender smile, eyes landing on the bunny with furrowed brows. You point when he starts talking, “I like him.” 

She giggles and nods along with you. And after a few more minutes, she’s fully entranced by the movie, whispering for help a few times when she needed it for another piece of pizza on her paper plate. You wipe at her mouth when the sauce ends up landing all over it. 

“Good?” You ask, offering a thumbs-up.

She nods again with a smile, returning it. “Thank you, Mommy.” 

Half an hour into the movie, you go sleepy. Head pulling back, you can’t keep up with the doe eyes of Yeona who stares at the screen with the same exact excitement she started out with. 

Before you could even bury your face in one of the pillows and wait for Yeona to topple over you when she was ready for bed, the front door clicks and beeps, indicating that whoever was at the front, knew the code of your home. 

With squinted eyes, you look over to the door that opens with the last person you wanted to see. Tonight or ever. 

“Daddy!” 

Your breath hitches, chest tightening wearily while you stare back at your ex with anxious eyes that were definitely awake now. 

Yeona runs up to him before being swooped up and drowned in kisses. “Missed you.” She immediately goes in a fit full of giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. 

Back hesitantly meeting the couch again as you attempt to relax and calm down, his direction shifts to the couch. 

He sets Yeona down in her previous spot next to you, only for her legs to wrap tightly around his waist to pull him down alongside her. Now, you’re all placed on the couch, Yeona set in the middle between the both of you. He hasn’t greeted nor acknowledged you yet, a pang of hurt flares through when he can’t even return your stare.

He scans the coffee table full of pizza and sugary drinks. “Is it movie night?” 

To his surprise, you answer. “Yeah. We finished the pizza, but the fried chicken is on the way,” you inform before asking, “Want some ramen to wait?” 

His mouth opens and he finally turns his full attention to you, your daughter still cuddled into his arms and her stubby fingers squeezing and playing with his jaw. “I—Yeah, it sounds good. Been hungry all day.” 

You hum and ask, abrupt bitterness sat on your tongue out before you can even stop it, “Didn’t go out to lunch today?” 

His eyes downcast and he awkwardly grunts out a cough before calling your name hesitantly. 

A second after, you suddenly stand and brush off the crumbs collecting between your thighs from Yeona knocking herself against your plate a few times in accident. Maybe tomorrow you would vacuum to add onto the list of distractions. “Great,” you say. “I’ll go boil some water.” 

“_____,” he tries again, but you’ve already stubbornly left and into the kitchen to grab the instant noodle packets you have stocked in your pantry.

Within the five minutes of your absence, he had successfully convinced Yeona to press resume on the movie and focus on the talking animals instead, with only the promise he would come back with a few sweets. 

You’re aware he’s close and near, but you continue to refuse, back turned fully to him. 

“Hey,” he breathes out. “Can we talk?” 

You don’t acknowledge his proposition, only rustling through the millions of brands you have in the corner of one shelf. “Start the water for me,” you order, pointing to the electric kettle on the counter behind him. 

His feet reluctantly move, fingers grabbing the handle and filling up the container with water. 

Holding up a familiar packet, you ask, “Do you still like this brand? Or did you want to go for another.” 

Whether it was a poke at his side, he doesn’t mention it. “That brand is fine.” 

You finally move beside him and open up the seals, carefully placing the flavor and vegetable packets aside. 

“I came here to apologize,” he says.

The only thing heard is the shallow dialogue from the movie and some of Yeona’s giggles. You were thankful that it filled in some of the blank spots in your mind and calmed you down enough to think about the next words you’d be saying to him. 

You shake your head, asking obliviously, “Why would you need to?” You were hurt. Of course, you were way too stubborn to admit it — absolutely willing to put up a hell of a fight before you’d be able to utter a confession like that. 

He leans on the counter for support, arms crossing and eyes leveling towards you, “I know you.” 

Your arms cross when you argue back, “And I know you, so what are you trying to say?”

He sighs, “I know you don’t like Seol.” 

You scoff. “Seol? You think my problem is with her?” 

“You’ve never liked her,” he exasperates. “And now that I’m going out with her-” 

You stop him immediately, fingers tightening around the paper cup on your left hand. “I’m not mad at her,” you quietly start. “In fact, she’d be the last person I would be mad at. Bitter? Sure, but I guess that’s on me.” 

“So, is it me? You’re mad at me..?” He immediately assumes. 

You blink a few times, fingers rubbing at the top of your temples, “No.” 

“No?”

“I’m.. Not mad,” you insist. “I think I understand enough that you would have to move on at some point.” You don’t bother to tell him you never expected it this early. There’d be no point, really. Frankly, you don’t think at any time you’d be able to properly prepare for any woman to be introduced to you as his new partner - temporary or marital, it didn’t matter. You’d still be immensely hurt in the end, regardless. 

“What about..” His throat tightens at saying this, “You?”

You shrug, staring to the side and hoping that the water would be done boiling soon. “I don’t think I’ll ever have time for any of that.” You shift back to him, mustering a smile that never reaches your eyes. “I’m okay with the way things are now.” 

He feels it. He cannot pinpoint it exactly, but it’s there - guilt and regret all bound to one. 

“I think I’m just scared,” you hesitantly admit. “Scared for the future. For the next woman that’d be introduced to Yeona. Who might spoil her more than I do and give her things that I can’t.” Your eyes direct themselves to his when he witnesses you beginning to bawl right in front of him. “I’m scared she’ll lose the vision and meaning behind the word Mom, and forget the way I care about her overall. I-I don’t want that.” 

For once, you want to be selfish and use your power to move away the attention of another woman who’d get to take care of your daughter from time to time, maybe even several within a short time span. For once, you want to keep your daughter to yourself as a mother. Nobody else. No other woman but you. 

His eyes soften and his hand raises itself, subconsciously towards the direction of your arm - to hold and to comfort. 

You turn away with a sharp intake of air. “It’s stupid.”

His head shakes rapidly. “_____..” 

It’s not, but you think it is, and it wasn’t like you had anybody to tell you otherwise. It was simply the way your mind had reeled in by its own misery and unsureness - no one to assure you. You nod, an action of understanding and realizing that you would never be able to get your way in all of this, not when it never was in the first place — look at your divorce. 

That in itself, hurts.

Setting the cup down, you suddenly decide and urge, “I’m not hungry anymore. The tip is on the table for the delivery guy. If you’re going to stay and put Yeona to bed, lock the front door when you leave.” 

“_____, wait,” he rushes. “That’s not—you’re not..” 

You don’t stop with your steps, already moving up the stairs.

It leaves Jungkook frantic, trying to decide whether running up the stairs to stop you would be the right thing to do at this very moment, or you’d be even more irritated with him than the overwhelming amount right now. 

In subtle yet poor timing, the flip of the kettle switches itself off. 

The water was hot. 

-

[11:18] won’t be dropping lunch off anymore :3 

[11:18] hope u understand. 

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.  

let me know ur thots, i’d like to know :]]

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.  

[morepeachyogurt]

a sky full of stars (and she was looking at her)

Word Count- 2.8k

Pairing- Penemily

Summary- Penemily highschool au where they are paired up on a English assignment! Based on this post.

Part 1 of my, maybe we’re from the same star, series

Read it here on ao3

Tw’s- very small mentions of substances, minor swearing

A/N- this is the first installment of a series based on my yearning posts, and my first time writing romance/3rd pov, I’d love some feedback!

It’s hard to miss Penelope Garcia. With her bright clothes and brighter personally it seems like the sun shines a spotlight on her. Her golden hair is like a halo around her, she looks like an angel, and perhaps one of these days Emily will get the courage to talk to her beyond small talk and group presentations. She’s pulled out of her thoughts when the shrill bell rings, too loudly for her tastes but this whole building seems to scream at her, so perhaps it’s fitting.

Ms. Blake starts to talk about ancient poetry. The greats from the time periods before everything got so complicated. English is not Emily’s favorite class but somehow Blake’s class is more or less interesting, is it because she’s a milf? Maybe, who’s to say. As the class nears its end, she announces, “Alright, as we close out our poetry unit, we have one last assignment that hopefully at least one of you will enjoy, it’s a group project where-” immediately two hands go up ready to ask the question that always gets asked when a group project is announced. “Before you ask, no, you aren’t picking your partners, I am,” a collective groan comes out of about half the class. Emily isn’t too mad about it though, she doesn’t have many friends, especially in honors English. JJ barely passes English as it is. She’s all alone here, so she’s glad she doesn’t have to suffer through the awkwardness of trying to find a partner before everyone else does and ending up with the one kid who she’s pretty sure has been high the entire year and likes to leer at her in the hallway. “For this assignment, you’ll have to analyze one famous poem, from whatever time period you’d like, and write an essay about the poet’s intentions. If you’d like extra credit, which I know for a fact some of you need, you can do a reading of the poem in front of the class or do a drawing that represents it. Any questions?”

The classroom fills with questions of ‘when is this due?’ And ‘this sucks do we have to do this’. Emily however, is distracted by one very colorful girl in the upper left corner of the room, her spot in the back lets her admire the view without being caught, which tends to make it difficult to pay attention, but well, some things are just more fun than others. Her attention is drawn back to Blake when she hears her name followed by Penelope Garcia.

Oh shit.

On the one hand, this is exactly the opportunity she’d been looking for to ‘make her move’ so to speak, on the other, she’s terrified of making a fool of herself. Emily realizes that she’s been sitting for a bit too long when Blake stops talking and the rest of the class has already paired off. She catches Penelope’s eyes and tries to fight the blush of her cheeks. The sound of her docs hitting the linoleum is a bit too intense for this setting, she prefers their ‘clunk’ when it’s a crowded room, and she can walk like she owns the place. Emily sits down at the desk adjacent to Penelope and gets ready to ruin her chances with her.

“Okay! Hi! I’m Penelope! Which you already knew because Ms. Blake announced it, but it’s polite to introduce yourself to people so I thought I would do that now which I’ve done so I’ll stop talking now!”

Emily can’t help but giggle a little at her rambling, she doesn’t want her to stop talking quite yet, her voice melodic to her ears.

“So, I’m not big in poetry, I’m more of a comic book gal if you catch my drift, so I was hoping that you had some thoughts?” She drags the o in hoping and trails off waiting for Emily to fill in the blanks. It takes her a second too long because her brain is short-circuiting but she manages.

“Yeah okay, um, I’ve read some Sappho back when my mother was stationed in Greece? That could work?” she hopes bringing up Sappho wasn’t too obvious of her intentions, but it was all she could think of. Sappho had a point when she said ‘Sweet mother, I cannot weave – slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl’

“Yeah okay! Cool! We’ve got like 3 minutes left of class, would you want to go to Bricks and Beans after school to work on it?”

“Uh yeah, yeah, that, um, that sounds great! I’ll meet you in front of the school?”

“Yep!” She pops the ‘p’ and Emily thinks she can’t possibly get cuter.

Emily’s walk to lunch has never been quite this mix of excitement and anxiety as it is now. Hopefully, JJ will be able to make sense of what’s happening because the wires in Emily’s brain are very much twisted.

“Okay, I’m telling you it’s not a date,”

“Yeah I know it’s not technically a date but come on. I personally have never asked my group project partner to a coffee shop before. She obviously likes you.”

Jennifer Jareau has been blessed with the right combination of looks that ensures she never had to wonder if her crushes liked her back. Emily wishes she had that special brand of confidence, but it’s simply not realistic, the number of openly queer girls at school is small, the number of them that would be interested in her? Even smaller.

“Look I’m not going to be the loser that gets my heart broken all right,” she steals a fry off of JJ’s tray before her hand gets smacked.

“Ugh I’m so bored here, promise me you’ll at least try. I need some new drama around here and you two would be so fucking cute.”

“Fine. On the condition that when* it goes south you’re buying me ice cream.”

Emily’s day goes by slowly and all at once. Hours turn into years turn into seconds and before she knows it she’s awkwardly standing outside the building waiting for Penelope to meet her.

When she does, Emily’s pulse quickens ever so slightly in her presence. It’s annoying as hell.

“I was worried you were standing me up,” a futile attempt on Emily’s behalf of trying to seem calm, cool, and collected.

“What! I would never, I’ve been looking forward to getting a macchiato and hanging out with you and Sappho all day! Coolest ladies from recent history,” she has to try and stop herself from getting too excited at Penelope’s words, they don’t mean anything, she’s just some loser that she has to work with to get a good final grade in the class. A means to an end, disposable.

“I don’t think Sappho counts as recent history but thank you, ma’am,” ma’am? God, what is she doing, this is going to go south faster than the time she tried to wear ripped jeans to one of her mother’s stupid dinner parties. To her surprise, her stupid comment is met with a giggle on Penelope’s part.

“Why thank you darling,” she replies in a phony southern accent that makes them both crack up, “Lead the way.”

Bricks and Beans is the staple coffee shop where all the high schoolers hang out after school or work during college. The owners are a sweet old couple in their 70’s who seem to be reliving the past with the vintage decorations. The pair settle into a table in the back, a window next to them showing off the highway. Emily is tasked with buying the coffees and Penelope rattles off her order filled with things Emily’s never even heard of.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure the barista is laughing at me now but here is your sugar coffee with whipped cream,” she says as she slides into her seat, placing down the coffees on the minimal free space left.

“My savior,” she says, fake swooning, “Okay so, Sappho? That’s the lesbian right?”

Emily answers with a snort before actually replying, “Yeah that’s the lesbian. I’m sure Blake will love it. I’m like, 90% sure she’s gay.”

“Single English teacher who loves Oscar Wilde? Yeah, I get it. My gaydar is spectacular by the way.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods.

“Um, yeah, okay how about this poem:

‘and in your song most of all she rejoiced.

But now she is conspicuous among Lydian women

as sometimes at sunset

the rosyfingered moon

surpasses all the stars. And her light

stretches over salt sea

equally and flowerdeep fields.

And the beautiful dew is poured out

and roses bloom and frail

chervil and flowering sweetclover.

But she goes back and forth remembering

gentle Atthis and in longing

she bites her tender mind’”

“That’s gorgeous,” Penelope had a dreamy look in her eyes, like seeing a beautiful sunset for the first time. Except, instead of a sunset she was looking at Emily, seeing her, like for the first time, “I love when artists talk about the stars,” she leans back on her chair and looks up as if she’s looking at a constellation and not an off-white popcorn ceiling. Her collarbones are exposed and Emily feels like a 17th-century peasant pining over exposed ankles, “There’s just something about the stars ya know? They’re so far away, but sometimes it feels like we’re there with them. They twinkle at us and at each other,” she pauses to make eye contact, “maybe the greatest love story is in the sky,” there’s a beat too long, Emily doesn’t know how to respond to that comment, it’s hard to follow art without ruining it.

“Or maybe I’m just a sad sap for romance.”

“No!” She gets a of couple heads turned her way, the exclamation too loud for the environment, “I mean no, I get what you mean, they’re beautiful. Sometimes at night I go on my roof just to stargaze. It’s so peaceful there,” it’s now or never, “you should do it with me someday.”

“I’d love that,” it’s almost bashful, the two of them hoping the underlying meanings of their words are being shown, lest their hopes not be conveyed and come shattering down like a falling star.

The sun slowly sets as they work on interpreting the inter-workings of Sappho’s mind. The drinks run out so Emily buys them both hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and chocolate chips for Penelope. When she takes a sip, the whipped cream sticks to the side of her face.

“You got some whipped cream on your face,” she gestures to the offender in question. The blonde tries and fails, to get it off.

“Did I get it?”

“No, it’s more,” after some failed attempts, and the failure of Emily’s common sense, she decides to just get it off herself. It feels too intimate too quick, they both freeze, Emily’s hand inches away from Penelope’s face. Their eyes lock, scared brown eyes met soft blue ones and just for a second, there is peace in between their beating hearts and hands. Emily quickly brings her hand down and mumbles an apology.

After three hours they call it a night, Emily now the proud owner of Penelope’s phone number. On her drive home, she wonders if she’d done right, and she wonders if she’d done wrong. If she was clear about what stargazing meant to her. A branch into her world, her safe space. To share the dark night sky with something is to share your soul with them. Even JJ didn’t know about her nighttime viewings. Did Penelope feel the same way? The shared smiles and small laughs pointed yes. But Penelope was Penelope and Emily was Emily. How could an angel love a human? Why would it sacrifice its virtue for the danger of love? If Penelope was pink and Emily was dark green, could they mix and make something beautiful or would they both end up a ruined brown?

Dinner is tense as always, she does not share anything with her mother, she does not want to. They tiptoe around each other hoping that they won’t step on each other’s toes and crash. Emily retreats to her room the second dinner is over and opens a window. She loves that it gets dark earlier now. The fresh fall air trumps that tacky of scented candles that fill the house in a futile attempt to make it a home. She opens her laptop to finish the concluding paragraph of their essay. She allows herself to be lost in the words of another in order to avoid her own problems of love and belonging. Her phone rings. It’s her problems. They chat with careful conversation about their project and finally, it is finished. It looks good actually, or at least, to Emily it does. It’s not going to win them a Pulitzer, but they’ll get an A.

And then, “Hey.”

“Hey?” They’ve been on the phone for a half an hour, she’s not sure why she’s being greeted all of a sudden.

“Does your offer to stargaze still stand? It’s nice out tonight and, I don’t know, it sounded nice?”

“Yeah of course! Do you, um, do you need a ride or?”

“Nah I got my license and good old Esther. I do need your address though.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll text it to you. Who’s Esther?”

“My car! She’s a lovely thing thought she needed a name. I’ll be there in say, 15 minutes?”

“Sure. Bye Penelope.”

Holy shit.

Okay, she’s got 15 minutes to both have everything ready, but also seem completely casual about the fact that her crush is coming over to stargaze on her roof. The ambassador is long retreated either in bed or into her office, so she shouldn’t be a problem. Emily grabs a couple of blankets for them to sit on to avoid the chilly breeze and a bag of popcorn. She brushes her hair and touches up her eyeliner, not that it’s really visible in the dark, but it helps her feel confident which she’s desperate for at the moment. Her phone buzzes with a text, *im here!!!* It reads. She takes a deep breath before very slowly opening the door.

“Hi,” she whispers, the wind carrying her voice, but it’s just loud enough for its recipient. She closes the door

“Hi! So! Stargazing? That’s fun, I’m like, really excited it’s been a while since I’ve done something like this,” she somehow makes a whisper seem filled with enough energy to power a flashlight that Emily definitely should have brought. They make their way to the intersection where the hill meets the rooftop, and they only trip once, on a stick, but together they stay upright. Emily throws the blankets on the roof and climbs up on the chair before throwing her body on the roof. With her help, Penelope makes her way up after a couple of tries. By the time they lay the blankets out and are sitting down, they’re both practically crying from laughter, her nerves from earlier disappearing slowly.

The laughter fizzles out, and they’re both left staring at the stars. Penelope apparently is an expert of both astronomy and astrology so Emily’s ears are blessed with the sound of her voice. Like sunshine on a sweet summer day. She thinks that Penelope and her are like the sun and the moon, both beautiful, and complementary. Emily’s gaze shifts from the constellations to Penelope’s side profile. The stars shine almost as bright as her, and she can’t help but watch her instead. She can see the stars in her eyes, perhaps they were always there, but they’re more visible now looking in their reflection.

“God they’re beautiful,” Penelope says in awe. Like she can’t believe she’s blessed with the presence of the stars when really it is the stars who should have the honor.

“Yeah, yeah they are,” at this point she’s openly gazing at Penelope. When Penelope turns to meet her gaze she thinks she’s been caught, that it’s over and this night will be one for the ages in terms of beauty and heartbreak. Slowly, a hand makes its way to her cheek, cold like the air around them, but it somehow manages to set her skin on fire.

“May I?”

Emily nods and then they are lips on hers, it is sweet just like her. She’s being kissed under the starlight by a girl who deserves only beauty. Perhaps her dark green can be the field by the sunset of Penelope’s pink in the painting they make together. They do not have to mix, they can simply be combined to create something stunning. They can simply be. They pull apart slowly, and looking into her eyes, Emily thinks that the stars in comparison are simply dull. There is nothing as bright and beautiful in the world as the eyes of your lover.

Tag list- @royalpenelope @scandinavian-punk @kermitsaysgayrights

[stormspe]

The Battle Café

Summary: Café Partenaire is a modest little battle café run by the Kalos Pokédex holders. Their specialty? Giving customers a fun and exciting Multi Battle experience. Today, it's just business as usual at the café - but the first two Trainers who order battles are certainly going to make the routine a little more interesting.

Length: 5,159 words

Notes: This was written as part of a collab with Koi (@altevolantt​) and Aero (@pk-freezer-burnt​)! The two of them worked together to create the gorgeous art that accompanies this fic. And as it's still his birthday in my timezone, I'd like to wish X a very happy birthday!

If you’d prefer: [Read on Ao3] [Read on FFN]

Convincing X to start a battle café with her may have been one of the best decisions of Y’s life.

She’d come up with the idea after visiting one of Lumiose City’s famous battle cafés and being disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm the staff had for their craft. They were so focused on delivering the highest-quality food and a refined dining experience fitting of the number of “stars” their restaurant held that the battles themselves were stuffy and bland. Y wanted to give people a fun and exciting battle experience on top of delicious food, and who better to help her with that than her battle-savvy best friend?

Y loves running the café with X. They’ve got a good system going – X busses tables and prepares the food and drinks while Y does the waitressing. Emma helps X out in the kitchen and takes over as waitress while X and Y are battling customers. The café gets busy sometimes, but Y finds that busyness to be part of the fun. She challenges herself to get to know every one of their customers personally – everyone’s got their own story to tell, and Y loves to hear them.

X, on the other hand, isn’t a huge fan of the work or the people, but for him the battles more than make up for it. He enjoys getting to battle casual Trainers in low-stakes battles, where no one is watching him and judging his every move. He likes getting to learn from other Trainers, too. Everyone has their own unique battle style, and X looks for the interesting and effective elements of each opponent’s style and incorporates them into his own battling.

The café is located on the outskirts of Lumiose City, so they get a lot of tourist traffic – which means a wide variety of people for Y to meet and X to learn from. It’s always exciting to see people from all over the world grace their humble little battle café. There’s never a dull moment in a place where Kalosians are serving Kantonians, Hoennians, Unovans, and Galarians all under one roof.

“Hey, X, when you’ve got a minute, table 4 needs to be cleared,” Y calls as she picks up a round of smoothies from the order window. “And we’ve got one new order!”

“But still no battles?”

“Still no battles.” Y sighs. “Even I’m itching for a fight at this point. What a slow day.”

“If it were a slow day, I wouldn’t need you to tell me which tables are in need of bussing,” X grunts, appearing at the kitchen entrance with a washcloth and bin for dirty dishes. He heads for table 4 while Y brings her tray of smoothies to the customers at table 1.

Just then, the front doorbell jingles and a teenager around her age walks in. Y doesn’t recognize him and he just stops in the doorway, so he must be a new customer. “Hi, welcome!” she calls, waving at him with one hand while balancing the tray of drinks on the other. “Grab a menu off the podium there, have a seat, and I’ll be with you in a minute!”

The teen grins and gives her a little wave back. Y smiles and gets back to work, delivering the smoothies to table 1 and asking the group if they need anything else. When they decline, she heads back to the kitchen to drop off the empty tray. Then she’s off to the freshly cleared table 4, where the teen has taken a seat.

As she approaches the table, she pulls out a pen, her notepad, and an exuberant smile. “Welcome to Café Partenaire! First time here?”

The teen looks up from the menu and grins sheepishly. “Yeah. Was I that obvious?”

“I’ve got a good memory for my customers, and you didn’t look like you knew what you needed to do when you came in,” Y says. “Sounds like you’re not from around here, either. Galarian?”

“Spot on!” the teen exclaims, eyes widening. “You’re really good at this, mate!”

“Call me Y,” she says. “And I’ve had a lot of practice. Usually I can even distinguish between North and South Galarian accents, but…yours is a bit harder to pin down.”

The teen nods thoughtfully. “I’m from Postwick, in south Galar. But my big bro’s lived in Wyndon most my life, and I’ve got friends all over. So I don’t have a really strong South Galarian accent.”

“Oh, interesting,” Y says. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Hop!”

“Nice to meet you, Hop. What can I get for you?” she asks, readying her notepad.

“I’ll take the café special!” Hop declares, slapping his menu down on the table with a little more force than necessary.

Y’s smile grows, and she tucks her notepad back into her pocket. It’s about time. She collects payment up front, as usual, and informs Hop that the café special comes with a complimentary beverage. He orders a Soda Pop, and she tells him it’ll be right out.

“Soda Pop for table 4!” Y announces, striding into the kitchen.

X perks up at that; there’s a gleam in his eye when he turns away from the fryer. “Watch these,” he orders, pointing to the currently cooking basket of fries. Y nods. X grabs a bottle of Soda Pop from the refrigerator and heads out into the dining room.

Offering a complimentary beverage with the café special was one of X’s best ideas. Its purpose is threefold. One, it ensures that the customer is properly hydrated before their battle. (For the same reason, Y intends to make sure X drinks something when he gets back.) Two, it gives X the opportunity to meet the customer and get an idea of their skill level. Three, it gives the customer something to do while they wait for someone else to order the café special. They don’t want to make their customers wait too long for a battle, but it’s far more fun when two customers order the special around the same time.

The fries have cooked to a nice golden brown by the time X returns to the kitchen. “So? Your thoughts?” Y asks.

“He’s friendly,” X says. “Maybe a little too friendly. I asked him how long he’d been a Trainer, not for his whole life story.”

“Aw, I wanted to hear his whole life story. I bet it’s fascinating .”

“Really? I didn’t realize you had a thing for foreign boys. Or is it just Galarian ones?”

“Jealous, are we?” Y smirks. She throws her arms around X’s neck. “Don’t worry, you don’t have anything to fear from foreign boys like Hop.” She leans closer so she can whisper in his ear. “It’s only the cute ones that you need to worry about.”

“Please get a room.”

Y yelps and stumbles backwards, letting go of X. He grabs onto her arm to steady her. “Emma! How long have you been standing there?”

“Since I realized you had stopped paying attention to the fries and were letting them burn,” she says in her usual quiet, matter-of-fact way. “Don’t you have customers to be serving?”

“Oh, uh – right,” Y stammers. She turns back to X, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and hurries back out to the dining room.

Hop and the triplets at table 1 are still right where she left them, but Selphy from table 2 and Kiri from table 3 have both finished their food and headed out. In addition, there’s a new customer standing at the entrance, flipping disinterestedly through a menu. Like Hop, he’s a teenage boy who appears to be around her age. Unlike Hop, he has rather guarded body language and a serious expression on his face.

“Hi there! Sorry for the wait,” Y says, rushing over to table 2. “Let me clear off this table for you–”

“I’m here for a battle,” the teen interrupts, looking up from the menu.

Y blinks. No one’s ordered the café special all day, and now they have two requests for it in a row? She’s not complaining, but it’s an odd coincidence. “Excellent! I’ll finish clearing off this table so you can have a seat, and–”

“I don’t need a seat,” he says, leveling a glare at her. “I’m not here to eat. I just want a battle.”

Y takes a deep breath in and lets it out. They get these kinds of customers from time to time – the ones who are either too impatient or too arrogant to listen to her and follow the standard procedure for battling. They get on her nerves every time, but in the interest of professionalism, she tries not to let it show.

“Here at Café Partenaire, we provide full sit-down service to our customers,” she says. “If you’d like to order the café special, you’ll need to have a seat first.”

“That’s stupid! You can’t fight a battle sitting down.”

Y grits her teeth. “You won’t be sitting down for the battle. But there’s things that have to be done before you can battle–”

“Skip those, then. I want to get to the battle.”

“–including payment ,” Y says forcefully. “We don’t offer battles for free, you know.”

The teen at least has the decency to look a little abashed at that.

“Just sit down, mate!” Hop yells. “The longer you argue with her, the longer it’s gonna take for you to get your battle.”

The teen side-eyes Hop, but with an exaggerated huff, relents. Y finishes clearing off the table, he has a seat, and she gets his payment and drink order.

She doesn’t immediately take the order back to the kitchen, though. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I know we didn’t start off on the right foot, but I do like to get to know all my customers. My name is Y. What’s yours?”

He glances at her, glare still on his face. On closer inspection, though, she realizes that there doesn’t seem to be any real heat behind the look; maybe that intense gaze is just a neutral expression for him.

“Hugh,” he says.

“Where are you from, Hugh?” she asks. She can tell by his accent that he’s from Unova, but Unovan accents vary even more than Galarian ones, and her Unovan geography is a little rusty.

“Aspertia City. Unova,” he says. Her lack of recognition must be evident on her face, because he adds without prompting, “Southwest Unova.”

“Ooh, I see. I’m from Vaniville Town, right here in Central Kalos,” Y says. “It’s nice to meet you! My partner will be back with your drink in a moment.”

Y heads back to the kitchen and finds X and Emma engrossed in a game of pick-up sticks using burnt fries. “Lemonade for table 2!” she declares. “Also, X, table 3 needs bussing. C’mon, pick up the slack!”

“Another special already?” X says, straightening up. “That was fast.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s great!” Y grins. “Now hurry up and bring the new customer his drink so we can get to the battle!”

After X leaves, Emma starts tallying up her and X’s scores. Y leaves her to it, pouring a new basket of fries and putting them in the fryer. But Emma quickly takes over that, shooing Y back out to the dining room. That’s fair; Emma doesn’t need a new set of pick-up sticks to play with.

Speaking of which – “Who won the game?”

“I did.”

“Good for you!”

When Y returns to the dining room, she’s disappointed to find that the triplets have left, killing her chances of catching up on the latest news from Striaton City. However, that’s made up for by the fact that Trevor has dropped by the café on his lunch break. She greets him with a big hug and listens as he emphatically describes the new experiment that he and Professor Sycamore are conducting. Once she notices X has returned to the kitchen, though, she has to end the conversation and get back to work.

“So, battle meister, what’s your final assessment?” Y asks as soon as she enters the kitchen.

“They’re both experienced Trainers,” X reports. “Hugh’s been battling longer, but Hop has more competitive battling experience. They’ll both make interesting opponents.”

“Awesome!” Y exclaims. “Feels like it’s been ages since we last had a tough opponent. This is gonna be so much fun!”

~

Once Hugh and Hop have both finished their drinks, it’s finally time for the battle. Y volunteers to escort Hop up to the battlefield, which leaves X to escort Hugh.

“Hey, sorry about the wait!” Y says as she approaches table 4.

Hop’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Is it time for the battle?”

“You bet! Follow me!”

She leads Hop to the staircase on the side of the café. “Oh, so the battlefield is on the second floor?” he asks.

“Even better!” Y replies.

She opens the door at the top of the staircase and walks out onto the roof. Hop gasps behind her. “Welcome to the official battlefield of Café Partenaire!” she exclaims, spreading her arms.

The battlefield itself isn’t terribly impressive, just a bunch of white lines painted on the concrete roof. However, the view from up here of Parterre Way’s gardens and perfectly trimmed hedge mazes with Lumiose City in the distance is gorgeous.

“Um, isn’t it a little dangerous to be battling on top of a roof with no guardrails or anything?” Hop asks.

Y laughs. “And Pokémon battles aren’t dangerous? Don’t worry,” she says, patting him on the shoulder. “The battlefield’s nowhere near the edge of the roof, so we’re not in any danger of falling off!”

“Right,” Hop says, but he still doesn’t look convinced. “So…where’s my opponent?”

“He’ll be up in a minute,” Y says.

A few moments later, X emerges onto the roof with Hugh following close behind. Hugh doesn’t spend much time observing the battlefield, instead staring immediately at Y and Hop. He narrows his eyes as they approach. “I have to fight him ?” he asks.

“Nope!” Y responds cheerfully, clapping Hop on the shoulder and pushing him closer to Hugh. “He’s your partner!”

“Partner!?” both boys exclaim simultaneously.

“Y’see, the thing about Café Partenaire that makes it a little different from the battle cafés you’ll find in Lumiose is that we specialize in Multi Battles,” Y explains with a wink. “When two Trainers both order the café special, they’ll have to work together to defeat our staff if they want to earn the special prize!”

“So who do we have to fight?” Hugh demands.

Y grins, taking a few steps back from the customers. She glances to her right, where X has moved to stand next to her. He gives her a curt nod, and she nods back. Then, moving in sync, they both untie their aprons from their waists and fling them aside.

“You’ll be battling us!”

Y always loves seeing the look of shock on customers’ faces when they realize they’re going to be battling the people who were just serving them moments before. Hugh’s eyes only widen for a moment before returning to their usual intense stare, but Hop gapes at them like a Magikarp out of water.

“You – you’re serious? You guys are the super-tough opponents that we’re supposed to battle?” Hop exclaims.

“Never judge a Trainer’s skill by their appearance,” Hugh says. He folds his arms and looks Hop up and down. “You don’t look like you’re all that yourself, but you must be a strong Trainer or you wouldn’t be here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I look weak!?” Hop shouts, intruding in Hugh’s personal space. He’s only a few inches taller, but standing that close to Hugh makes it look like Hop towers over the other boy.

“I’m not saying you look strong,” Hugh says coldly, glaring up at him.

Y glances at X with a hint of concern. Throwing strangers into a battle together is a little risky because they don’t always get along, but they don’t usually get this openly hostile towards each other before the battle’s even started. She definitely didn’t expect this much hostility from Hop – he’d been so friendly and nice with her. If they clash this much outside of battle, she can already tell that the battle itself will be a disaster. “Should we do something?” she whispers.

X shrugs. “If they really want to battle us, they’ll figure it out.”

Hop finally leans back and folds his hands behind his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter whose accomplishments as a Trainer are better or whatever,” he says. “We’re not fighting each other. So you’ll see just how skilled I am when we’re fighting them” – he points at X and Y – “on the battlefield.”

“The best place to evaluate a Trainer’s skill,” Hugh agrees with a curt nod of the head.

“Then let’s do this together and win that special prize!” Hop declares, holding out his hand. “The name’s Hop, by the way.”

“Hugh,” Hugh says, shaking it.

“Sounds like you’re ready to battle!” Y says with a relieved smile. “Let’s get in position, shall we?”

The four Trainers take their places on the battlefield – Hop and Hugh on the side closest to the stairs, X and Y on the far side. Once everyone’s in position, Y explains the rules: a two-on-two Multi Battle, with each Trainer only being allowed a single Pokémon. Whichever team manages to knock out both of the opposing team’s Pokémon is declared the winner.

“I’m counting on you, Veevee!”

“Let’s do this, Kanga.”

“Go, Flygon!”

“Corviknight, let’s go!”

Y quickly assesses the type matchups in her head. Veevee has the advantage against Flygon but the disadvantage against Corviknight. Kanga’s at a type disadvantage against Corviknight as well, but she has moves that’ll allow her to hit both Pokémon super effectively. That still makes Corviknight the bigger threat.

“Double team Corviknight?” she mutters under her breath.

X shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “Support me. See what they can do.”

Y dips her head, pretending to adjust her necktie. “You guys ready?” she calls across the battlefield. Hop gives her a thumbs-up. “Then let’s get this battle started! Veevee, Misty Terrain!”

Veevee closes her eyes and lifts her head. A cloud of pink mist begins to emanate from her body, swirling around her and Kanga’s legs. It quickly spreads across the whole battlefield, but Corviknight and Flygon hover just above the mist.

Hugh scowls. “That was a waste of a move. Misty Terrain won’t affect our Pokémon!”

“Their Pokémon can still benefit from it,” Hop points out. “But let’s not give ’em a reason to! Corviknight, Steel Wing on Sylveon!”

“Flygon, use Rock Slide!” Hugh commands.

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” Hop cries, but Flygon is already executing the order.

“Dodge it!” X and Y command simultaneously.

“Corviknight, fall back!” Hop exclaims. Corviknight pulls its head back to stop its charge just before it reaches the torrent of boulders that Flygon is raining down on Kanga and Veevee.

Veevee is nimble enough to dodge most of them, but Kanga isn’t so lucky, taking a decent amount of damage. “Shake it off, Kanga,” X says. “We’re just getting started.”

“What the heck was that, mate?” Hop shouts, glaring at Hugh. “Are you trying to sabotage me!?”

“Sabotage!? I was doing us a favor by attacking both our opponents at once!” Hugh snaps.

“You nearly took Corviknight out with that Rock Slide!”

“I figured you were capable of making sure your Pokemon didn’t get hit by the attack. Which you were. So I don’t see what the big deal is!”

“The big deal is that Corviknight couldn’t attack at all because you decided you wanted to attack both of them at once!”

While they continue arguing, Y glances at X. “Should we, uh, let them finish, or…?”

“Let’s get their attention back here,” X says. “Kanga, use Thunderbolt on Corviknight.”

“Works for me,” Y grins. “Veevee, Moonblast on Flygon!”

Kanga’s body begins to crackle with electricity while Veevee glows with bluish-pink energy. They launch their attacks simultaneously, knocking both Flygon and Corviknight to the ground. That’s finally enough to catch Hugh and Hop’s attention.

“Flygon, are you alright?” Hugh asks. His Pokemon picks itself up and flaps its wings a couple of times to prove that it’s still full of energy. He nods with satisfaction and then levels a glare at Hop. “Look what you’ve done. If you hadn’t started that argument–”

“I wouldn’t have started it if you hadn’t given me a reason to!” Hop shoots back. Then he shakes his head. “Look, we can’t keep arguing like this if we want to win this battle. We’re s’posed to be fighting them , not each other. So let’s each focus on one opponent so we don’t keep getting in each other’s way. Fair?”

“Alright,” Hugh says, turning his intense stare back to X and Y. “I’ll take Kangaskhan, you take Sylveon.”

Hop grins. “I can work with that.”

“Flygon, use Superpower!”

“Corviknight, Steel Wing on Sylveon, let’s go!”

Corviknight and Flygon flap their wings and shoot across the battlefield. They’re both on the opposite side from their intended targets, though, and their trajectories put them directly on a collision course with each other. Fortunately for them, a quick command from Hugh to slightly adjust Flygon’s direction saves them from colliding.

But Y’s not just going to roll over and let them get in a free attack just because they finally figured out that they need to cooperate. “Veevee, Baby-Doll Eyes!” she commands.

Veevee bats her eyes cutely at Corviknight. It slows down a bit but doesn’t stop completely, so it’s still able to land a solid hit. Veevee stumbles back a few paces but remains standing. “Way to hang in there, Veevee! Retaliate with Draining Kiss!”

As Veevee kisses away some of Corviknight’s vitality, Y chances a look over at X and Kanga. Flygon landed a direct hit on Kanga, but now that it’s at close range, she’s grabbed onto its arms to hold it in place.

“Use Outrage!” X orders. Kanga glows with a faint red aura and punches Flygon in the stomach, then flings it away. Y winces.

“Hey! Your opponent’s over here!” Hop calls, waving and grinning cheekily. “Corviknight, keep up the Steel Wings!”

“Dodge it, Veevee!” Y shouts. Veevee does her best to avoid the strikes from Corviknight’s wings, but she’s slowly being pushed into the corner of the battlefield and once she’s there, she’ll have nowhere to go. If only there was some way they could get past Corviknight without giving it time to land a hit…

Flygon and Kanga are still locked in close-quarters combat in the center of the field, and suddenly Y has an idea. “Veevee, use Quick Attack! Aim for Flygon!”

Veevee twists in midair to avoid Corviknight’s wings and lands on the ground in a crouch. It only takes her a moment to pinpoint Flygon’s location. She darts forward. Corviknight can’t move fast enough. Veevee slips under its wings easily, racing towards Flygon. But she realizes at the same time as Y that she won’t be able to attack Flygon without risking hitting Kanga as well, so she stops once she’s gotten a safe distance away from Corviknight.

“Good work, Veevee! Now, give Corviknight a Moonblast!”

Corviknight only has time to turn around before Veevee’s Moonblast is hitting it head-on. But when the dust settles, it shakes its head, barely fazed by the attack. “Nice move,” Hop says to Y. “But it’ll take a lot more than that to defeat a Pokemon with a type advantage!”

“Don’t get too confident! We’re just getting started!” Y replies with a smirk.

“ What!? ”

Hugh’s indignant cry draws Y’s attention back to Flygon and Kanga. Kanga is a little hunched over and breathing heavily, but she still looks much better off than Flygon; it’s lying on the ground, fainted.

“How could Outrage have done that much damage!? Dragon-type moves have their power halved on Misty Terrain!” Hugh exclaims.

“Yes, but Misty Terrain only affects Pokémon that are on the ground,” X says. “Since Flygon has Levitate, it’s not protected by the mist. Dragon-type moves used on it don’t have their power reduced, while Dragon-type moves used by it do – as long as the Pokémon it’s attacking is grounded, like Kanga.”

“ That’s how Misty Terrain works?” Hugh folds his arms, a contemplative look on his face. “But the other terrains boost the power of the user’s moves…”

“Yeah, so Misty Terrain protects Pokémon on the field instead of powering them up,” Hop says. “You really didn’t know that, mate? What happened to that whole ‘graduating at the top of your class’ thing that you were bragging about earlier?”

“Terrain was just being introduced to battles when I was in school,” Hugh says defensively. “They didn’t teach us about it. I had to learn about it from my own research and battles.”

“Well, there’s the trick. You shouldn’t learn just from the battles that you take part in. You can learn a lot by watching other people battle, too. Keep that up, and you’ll be practically unbeatable!” Hop grins.

Hugh looks at Hop for a moment as if studying him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. He returns Flygon and sticks his hands in his pockets. “You’re on your own now. Don’t screw this up.”

“Right…no pressure,” Hop says with a nervous chuckle. He closes his eyes and slaps his hands on his cheeks twice before opening them, a new determination blazing in his eyes. “Let’s do this, Corviknight!”

Corviknight spreads its wings and raises its head high, letting out a shrill cry. Sunlight glints off its metal feathers. Its large wingspan makes it look twice as big as normal – a massive, menacing black figure that towers over Y even though she’s standing several feet away. It flaps its wings to take off, blowing a gust of air strong enough to dislodge the hair tucked behind Y’s ears. Even injured, Corviknight exudes a dominating aura. They can’t let their guard down if they want to defeat it.

As Corviknight moves back to Hop’s side of the battlefield, Y glances over at X. “Looks like we’re gonna get to double team Corviknight after all,” she says with a grin.

“Looks like it,” he agrees.

“Veevee, Draining Kiss!”

“Kanga, Mega Punch!”

As the two Pokemon charge at Corviknight together, Hop commands, “Corviknight, fly as low to the ground as possible and meet them with Steel Wing!”

Corviknight flaps its wings, gaining some height, and then dives down to the ground. It pulls out of the dive just before it hits the ground, letting its momentum propel it towards Kanga and Veevee.

“Veevee, jump over it!” Y shouts.

Veevee leaps into the air just before Corviknight reaches her so it passes right underneath her. Kanga, on the other hand, is far less agile. Corviknight’s wing slams into Kanga’s legs, stopping their motion while her upper body continues to move forward. She slams into the ground while Corviknight slows to a halt in front of X and Y, completely unscathed.

“Quick, before it gets up – Drill Peck on Kangaskhan!” Hop orders.

Corviknight turns around and flies at Kanga again, this time tucking its wings close to its body and rotating itself like a drill. Kanga is struggling to her feet, but she’s not going to have time to get up and move out of Corviknight’s way.

“Now, Veevee, Quick Attack!”

Veevee darts at Corviknight and rams into it. She’s thrown to the ground by the rotation of Corviknight’s body, but the force is enough to knock Corviknight off course. Instead of hitting Kanga, Corviknight crashes into the ground. Meanwhile, Kanga gets to her feet, ready to attack.

“Let’s finish this off,” X says.

“Sounds good to me!”

“Thunderbolt!”

“Moonblast!”

Corviknight barely has time to pick itself up off the ground before it’s being hit by the combined force of Kanga and Veevee’s attacks. It collapses, wings splayed out, unmoving.

“Looks like Corviknight can’t battle anymore,” Y says. “Which means…me and X win!” She turns to X, and they share a quick kiss. “Lovely battling with you, as always.”

“Same to you,” he says, smiling softly. “You fought well.”

She and X return their Pokémon and jog to the other side of the field, where Hop has returned his Corviknight and stands facing Hugh.

Hop lowers his head. “I’m sorry. You were counting on Corviknight and I to win the battle, and we couldn’t do it. It’s my fault we lost…”

Hugh sighs. “You wouldn’t have been in that situation if Flygon hadn’t gotten knocked out first. I should’ve been stronger.”

“No,” X interrupts. “You’re missing the root of the problem. The reason you lost isn’t because either of you were too weak – it’s obvious you’re both skilled Trainers. But you weren’t working as a team, and teamwork is crucial to winning a Multi Battle.”

Hop and Hugh stare at X and then look at each other. Hop sighs and folds his hands behind his head. “You’re right about that, mate. We weren’t working together at all. I was so focused on proving my own strength that I didn’t think about anything other than my Pokémon.”

“I did the same thing,” Hugh admits. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and glances at Hop. “You did pretty well taking on both of them by yourself, though. Having Corviknight fly close to the ground like that to trip them up was clever.”

“You think?” Hop grins, his cheeks tinged a faint pink. “Uh, I can’t really take credit for it. It’s a trick I picked up from my bro.”

Hugh turns to face Hop fully now, an inquisitive look on his face. “You have a brother? Older or younger?”

“Older,” Hop says with a chuckle. “By quite a bit.”

“Oh. I’ve got a younger sister,” Hugh says by way of explanation. “She’s a Trainer, too, but…she’s never had much interest in battling.”

“Really? I can’t imagine what that’s like. I think I inherited my love of battling from my brother,” Hop says, grinning widely.

“Must be nice, having a sibling who actually wants to battle with you.”

“Oh, I wish. By the time I became a Trainer, Lee was already leagues better than me, and he was hardly ever around anyways…”

The two boys head to the stairs, chatting about their siblings like old friends catching up after a long time. Hop pauses to wave goodbye and thank them for the battle. Then the pair head downstairs together, leaving X and Y alone on the roof.

X picks up the aprons off the ground and hands Y hers. She takes it with a smile and ties it back around her waist. Of all the things she loves about running the battle café, this has to be her favorite – getting to bring other Trainers closer together.

Note: This is a work of fiction. The opinions on the cuteness of certain rival characters expressed in this fic are wholly Y’s and do not reflect the views of the creator.

[almorica]

Conditioning

T, fresh precure, soular/westar, 1,287 words

it’s not easy to accept you’re beginning to break through what’s been drilled into you since birth, even if you’re not alone in it.

ao3 / ffnet

“You’re making me feel restless just watching you,” Soular announced, still patiently resting his back against the smooth vegetation forming the walls of Northa’s room. His crossed arms had started out motionless, but one hand eventually started tapping against the opposite arm.

Westar, pacing vigorously across the embellished rug in the center, glared at him before tossing up his hands. “But there’s no space in here, and I can’t relax somewhere she might pop up at any second!”

“She did that back at the mansion, too.”

“That was different!!”

No, Soular replied silently, it wasn’t. “Well, she is out, and if you’re tired of those weights of yours you can try something I brought here to read.”

Stopping, Westar sighed, hung his head, and crouched down. “I want to be done with this~ I could be spending this time going somewhere interesting or perfecting my doughnut making technique, but no! Why doesn’t she even have a kitchen?!”

Soular tilted his head. “Doughnut making technique?”

Westar perked up immediately. “That’s right! Kaoru from the park café taught me some of his secrets. I barely had the time to start before our place got destroyed. I’m going to be a master when we have somewhere to make them again; you’ll see.”

Faced with that optimistic grin, Soular could only knit his brow and tap faster.

“What?” Westar asked.

“You do know what we’re here for, don’t you? What we’ve been doing all this time?”

Straightening up to his full formidable height, Westar frowned. “Are you trying to say something about me?”

“I’m trying to say I think your priorities are getting out of order. Do you believe that knowledge will be of any use to Labyrinth? To Lord Moebius?” The words sounded surprisingly stony to even the one saying them.

“I can do more than one thing at once even if you can’t!” came Westar’s obvious deflection.

“That’s not the point.” Soular turned his head, his impersonal gaze moving to the broad green leaves of one of Northa’s plants. “Northa has this fascination of her own, but it’s all to move Lord Moebius’ plan forward. You want to do those things because you enjoy them. It wasn’t part of our design to develop a desire like that, and you need to wake up from it.”

Westar didn’t answer at first; while refusing to look at him head on, Soular could see him clench and unclench his fists. There was a thread of betrayal wound through his tone when he spoke again. “You don’t have the right to criticize me about that. It’s not like you’re as cold as you used to be!”

“I’m the same as ever.”

“You are not! You barely acknowledged I existed when we first got our assignment. Any time I tried to put our heads together, you rejected it. But sometime after we lost Eas, you started acting like we were a team.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I realized it would be more efficient to work together, like they did.”

“Did you have to Switch Over with me instead of by yourself?”

“...”

“Did we have to start coming out together? Did you have to start letting me stand so close to you?!”

Soular clenched his jaw. “What I find necessary for our success has nothing to do with this.”

“It does! We were never supposed to have friends either, but that didn’t stop you from acting like one!”

“I never…” Soular faltered. “I never thought of you as a friend. Only fools try to find happiness in others,” he added, lacking the bite he tried to add to it. He couldn’t believe a few words managed to unnerve him. Had he really slipped that much?

Thoroughly unsatisfied, Westar strode toward him and slammed his palms on the stalks on each side of Soular’s head. It snapped his eyes back to the other’s face for the first time since the start of their argument. The intense gaze they met was paralyzing, only allowing his own arms to unlock and drop toward the tiled floor.

He remembered that look: it was as serious as Westar had ever been. When they were after Infinity he’d been impressed by it, but being the target made him feel like it could see right through him.

“You’re finally looking at me,” Westar said. Soular was painfully cognizant of simply swallowing in response. “Now be honest. You think about more than what’s expected of us sometimes, too.”

Soular’s chest throbbed with every heavy heartbeat. It became harder to think the longer his eyes were locked on that determined sky blue. The room seemed even smaller now, like it barely extended beyond those powerful arms. Westar didn’t appear affected at all until his eyes narrowed, and even then it wasn’t clear why.

Westar leaned a few centimeters closer. The shared air between them warmed, and his volume lowered. “You don’t get to judge me if you’re the same way.”

His breathing shallow, Soular wracked his brain for the right response. Any response. A lie, or the truth — either would work. He couldn’t find the words there or on the face too close to him, no matter where he looked. “Westar—”

Like saying his name was the same as pulling a trigger, Westar’s eyes dropped to Soular’s mouth and he shot forward, head tilting at the last instant. In a split second’s anticipation Soular managed to close his eyes, feeling Westar crash his lips into his own. With his sight cut out he had a heightened awareness of being forcefully pressed against the stalk he had his back to, but that was the least of his worries in taking his breath away.

When their mouths parted the first time, Soular anchored him by tightly gripping the pale cyan hair at the back of his neck. Westar’s hands moved to the thin fabric around Soular’s waist. He held their bodies so firmly together it was as if they could become one person able to lay their doubts to rest, and Soular made a sound that was swiftly covered up by another kiss. His heart tightened when they inhaled at the same time so close together, barely taking in any air at each opportunity.

It was overwhelming. An embrace so fierce he could break wasn’t comfortable, but he was too desperate to continue for any objections. He knew once he did there was no going back to this for either or them, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the gratification just yet. Neither of them had any experience in it, so it was awkward and strange and not always pleasant. It was still something, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d wanted it.

Eventually, his breath ran too short. “Westar,” he rasped again against the other’s lips, who recoiled as expected. His hand instantly felt lonely as it untangled from Westar’s hair and passed over his golden earrings on its way back to him.

“I’m not like Eas,” Westar began, chest rising and falling as noticeably as Soular’s own. He hadn’t completely stepped away, but he’d drawn back from physical contact and dodged meeting his eyes. “My life belongs to Lord Moebius. Nothing matters more than accomplishing his goal.”

“Spoken like a true denizen of Labyrinth.” Feeling lightheaded, Soular hadn’t lifted any part of himself from where it had been roughly shoved back against the wall, but his voice had returned to normal. The warmth drained from him with each impassive word. “I apologize for questioning you.”

Westar’s forehead creased and he closed his eyes. “That’s better.” They opened again long enough to shoot a straightforward glare at Soular before he turned his back. “Everything for Lord Moebius.”

“...Everything for Lord Moebius.”

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 53

For everyone reading this it’s only been about four days since the last update, but it’s been like two weeks for me between writing and editing XD Suffice to say, life was kind of weighing me down. But here we are. Claymore has appeared and everyone is together. Seemingly to Ix’s expectations. What does that mean? Read on and find out in...

     -Sonic, Rosy, what’s going on. Guys!-

     “Hmhmhmhmhm,” the laughter of Saber the Red filled the room that Sonic and Rosy had caught up to Ix in and distracted them from Tails’ voice across their wrist device radios.

     “No!” Rosy shouted in surprise as Saber had appeared but a moment sooner, and after Claymore had strode into the chamber. What made Rosy scream however was that Saber had taken one of his namesake weapons from his shoulder pylons and jammed it straight up into Claymore’s midsection.

     “Ho!” Claymore shouted as he looked down at the far nimbler suit of armor. “You would show yourself now, traitor!”

     “Come now Claymore, I had hoped you would be more of a challenge than the autogolems you have roaming these halls.”

     “Curious,” Ix remarked as he looked back at the scene behind him. “How long did I slumber for the Sword Knights to turn on each other. Truly, the state of this world is wrong.”

     Twirling his staff for but a moment above his head, Ix slammed it into the ground, the crystal Rose at its head shining a bright purple. In response the ground cracked and splintered, a torrent of Rings bursting forth in response.

     “Ho! “Claymore shouted as he fell to a knee. “You would risk your own destruction as well foul mage. I had believed you would face me in battle at the heart of Tower Point.”

     “There is little need,” Ix remarked as Fukurokov and Fang stared at him in horror. “I can eliminate two knights at one time and simply choose a new vessel to continue my pursuit.

     “Then…? Ho! It was a trap!”

     “Sneaky,” Saber commented and withdrew his sword as he stepped back from Claymore. “I did not come to be buried this day however.”

     “Neither did I!” Fang shouted before turning pleading eyes onto Rosy. “You hafta get me outta this Rosy!”

     “You think I’ll let you get away?” Doctor Fukurokov leveled Fang’s own gun at the treasure hunter’s head to emphasize his threat. “And what trickery is this! You promised me a return to glory!”

     Turning the pop gun from Fang, Doctor Fukurokov took aim at Ix, and quickly paled as the stone golems rose around them. It was the opportunity Fang needed however and he fell back and lashed out with his tail. “Gah!”

     “Sorry, but I’m not hanging around here any longer,” Fang laughed as he knocked his gun free of Doctor Fukurokov’s grasp. Catching it as he braced himself on his tail, he shook the firearm a moment before springing up into the air and shouted at Rosy. “This time, I’m ready Rosy!”

     “What!” Doctor Fukurokov’ shouted as he saw a Ring Gate appear in Fang’s path disappearing with the jerboa-wolf hybrid in an instant. “Who~?”

     “Was that really a good idea, kid?” Sonic asked looking at Rosy who looked quite pleased with herself. At least until Sonic asked.

     “Soni~c,” she whined and puffed up her cheeks. “Fang is my friend and I had to help him, and now that he isn’t in danger, I can try to talk Ix down.”

     “It’s too late for that, Lady Medium,” Claymore scoffed as a dark purple mist began to swirl around his left arm. “The foul mage has already taken his leave. You fell for his bait and now he likely has another vessel en route to the heart of Tower Point.”

     “To think you failed so badly Claymore. Your sleep has made you rusty,” Saber mocked the far larger autogolem knight.

     “And you have lost all honor, Saber! Ho!”

     With his trademark shout, Claymore became a well of gravity and everything in the room became stuck in his pull. Ix’s stone body along with his golems were pulled apart, the debris pulled into Claymore’s body. A body which healed and grew with the consumption.

     “What is this!” Doctor Fukurokov shouted helplessly before being pulled off his feet and right into a Ring Gate that appeared before him and vanished.

     “You would save your obvious enemy, Ring Mage, Sonic the Hedgehog?”

     “You’re getting closer,” Sonic shook a finger at Claymore. “Just drop the mage bit and we’ll be good. Well, after I clean up your mess, stop Ix, and yeah, make sure no one gets more hurt than you already have today.”

     “Hmhmhmhmhm, it’s too late for that,” Saber laughed and took to the air and out into the cavernous main hall beyond the small room everyone had gathered in. Form his new vantage point, he could see everything collapsing around him and an army of golems rising past the golden twinkle of collected Rings. “Pir��Oth has already begun to collapse the whole of Tower Point. Soon, Yoluku will wake again! Hmhmhmhmhm!”

     “Yeah, not happening! Let’s go Amy!”

     Grabbing Rosy’s wrist, Sonic took off so fast she barely got her feet under her. When she did, Sonic noticed the drag immediately as she still had a long way to go to catch up to him in the use of his speed. Not wanting to waste time, Sonic scooped her up into his arms, and just in time to avoid collapsing debris.

     “Phooey!” Rosy complained, puffing up her cheeks even as she nestled into Sonic’s embrace and blushed happily. There was conflict in that joy though as the situation had gotten dire. “Why did it have to happen like that?”

     “Doesn’t matter,” Sonic dismissed the past. “But if we don’t do–”

     -Guys! Please tell me you’re okay. The data is going crazy and the whole city is starting to collapse!-

     “Tails!” Rosy shouted before remembering she had to activate the radio on her wrist.

     “Tails! I was right! It was Ix, and now he’s collapsing the whole city. I don’t know what to do, but Sonic and me are heading towards Ix now! And hopefully, we stop him. But you need to get out of here! It’s not safe, and–!”

     -What is that!-

     “What is what?” Sonic asked as the whole of the catacombs began to tremble and shake as though the entire landmass was being torn apart.

     The answer did not take long to be discovered.

     As Saber flew out of the growing sinkhole Tower Point was becoming, he was joined by the Tornado under remote control from a desperate to not lose it Zooey. Following them, not in pursuit but rather growth, Claymore emerged.

     He had grown massive beyond compare, the collapsing city feeding his gravity well. Whether or not the people of the city were spared as he grew was a mystery, but his artificial frame could easily harbor them all as it grew.

     “Are we going to be able to get away from that?” Draw asked looking at the absurd sight of the impossibly huge autogolem and the storm of purple clouds that swirled around him.

     “I couldn’t rightly say, lad,” Gill confided from where he joined Draw on the Deck of the Skyskipper. “It’s likely that knight will consume us all.”

     “I thought I was going to be safe here!” Fang surprised Gill and Draw as he came out onto the deck. “What is that fox girl doing!”

    Running to the deck and leaving the other’s confused, the sight of the Avocado Green joining the Skyskipper had no meaning to Fang. Neither did Mighty as he ran by him to demand an explanation, even as Zooey worked to open a Ring Gate large enough for both airships. Mighty did not follow Fang or return to the bridge as he watched the cloud of darkness around Claymore’s left arm become a giant maw of light filled darkness. With that looming maw the knight took a massive bite out of the city with.

     “SO~NI~C!” Rosy cried out at the top of her lungs as everything collapsed around her and Sonic within the gigantic maw.

     “Just get ready!” Sonic yelled as he tossed Rosy into the air in front of him.

     “Wah~!”

     “Just don’t enjoy this too much!”

     Leaping up after Rosy, he grabbed her hand and spun her about into him as he curled into a tight ball forcing her to do the same. Together they formed one giant rolling hedgehog ball and plowed through practically everything in front of them with growing speed. Until finally, they broke apart and Rosy flopped onto her back with swirling eyes and red face.

     “I said don’t get too excited,” Sonic sighed as he looked back at Rosy behind him. “That was simply the Rolling Combo Tails and I came up with. You didn’t do bad for your first go at it though.”

     Unsteadily stumbling to her feet, Rosy smiled as Sonic flashed her a thumbs up. But the expression did not last for long. Sonic had donned a dead serious look and turned his attention forward to the heart of the clockwork sphere they had arrived in. Following his gaze, Rosy gasped.

     “Ix!”

     She could not find the words to continue however as there were two of him. A wooden one, and one like the autogolem knights. A clockwork skeleton with a suit of armor built onto it, and of course his signature flowing purple robes.

     “So, you really had laid a trap for us,” Sonic gritted his teeth as he looked at the swirling gyroscopic device around the autogolem Ix, and how it and the gears within the clockwork sphere had nearly come to a halt.

     “One I had not expected you to survive,” Ix acknowledged his plan. “Yet, you do not seem to be the hero foretold of by the medium. My plans remain unchallenged. You two are far, far, too late, and there is nothing the fool Sword Knights can do to stop me. I am but one step closer to returning at last to the side of my old friend.”

     “We’ll see about that!”

     “KYAA~!!!!!”

     “Amy!”

     Sonic stopped mid-preparation to leap forward as Rosy suddenly screamed. Turning back, he saw the red light of a Red Star Ring pouring from her left eye, her face trapped in a moment of true fear. “AMY~!”

     ~Those were the last words I remember hearing Sonic say while I could see him. Everything after that is almost pure darkness. I can’t really remember anything. But I know I saw the Gear Star Ring in my eye crumble some more, letting the gear be fully connected along three points of the star. I just wish I hadn’t seen that in Sonic’s beautiful green eyes. He looked so desperate as he reached for me, but then I was just gone. But I heard it. At least for a moment. It was my voice. I was talking but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me, and I’ve never been so scared.~

    “I am most afraid not, Dirt Dweller. ‘My’ Medium is gone.”      

Scene 53 · CLEARED Party Crashing, to be continued

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And isn’t that a doozy to end it on? XD Don’t worry, the next scene is out on Saturday (or already if you’re reading this after the publication date). As for who has possessed Rosy. Well, I’ve finally introduced my AU’s villain and I hope you enjoy this initial tease into their character. Next scene is the end of Season 1 and huge changes will be coming after that starting April. Please enjoy and I hope you’ll continue to follow me on The Journey!

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Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Insatiable (From “Final Fantasy XIV”) - Vocaloid Version – Azina, Masayoshi Soken – Insatiable (From “Final Fantasy XIV”)

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.