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#“i do not understand why i should have to give up my gold. i made it through my labor”
stillmonsterz · 2 months
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GAM3 BO1
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pairing: heeseung x reader
genre: smut
summary: reclusive gamer heeseung offers you the chance to live in a decent place in exchange for your companionship.
warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon, somnophilia, jerking off, exhibitionism, coercion, humiliation, anal sex
word count: 3.7k
--
The man you’re looking at in this coffee shop does not look like he could pay rent anywhere, let alone cover most of yours. He looks like he should be scrolling imageboards in his mother’s basement as he dines on high-fructose corn syrup. His eyes have bags, his skin is pale and sallow, his overgrown bangs reach below his eyebrows, and he’s so thin that the sleeves of his button-up hang from his arms. He peeks at you under his eyelashes, smiling shyly.
“You seem like a good fit,” he says quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug of coffee. “And like I said, all you would have to do is clean up, do the laundry…make sure the place isn’t a complete pigsty.” He laughs softly. “God knows I’m awful at that.”
“Well, I can do that,” you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. “I still don’t understand why you’re being so generous. I mean, you could just get a maid. It’d cost you less money, too.” You don’t mention that the apartment is ridiculously nice for the pittance he would let you pay for it, and it’s in a choice location in the city. When you saw the ad for it on the roommate app you had downloaded, you had thought it was a scam. But then, you were so desperate that you were willing to fall for a scam. As it turns out, the apartment is real – he had sent you a video of it at your behest – and the owner was definitely real.
Heeseung – Heeseung Lee, a single computer programmer that had come into an undisclosed yet presumably exorbitant amount of wealth following his parents’ passing – laughs again, a self-conscious chuckle that quickly dies in his throat. “Well, to be honest with you…I just get lonely. I mean, my work is all online, and I don’t have many, uh, friends. I sort of just stay at home and play…” Heeseung’s voice becomes hushed. “play video games. It’s sort of pathetic.”
“Nothing pathetic about that,” you say quickly. He’s so earnest, it tugs at your heartstrings. “I think this could be a great arrangement.”
Heeseung looks up at you, and his eyes are shining. He smiles at you, tilting his head. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You smile as well. “And I’m a pretty good companion, if I do say so myself.”
Heeseung’s eyes flicker down, lingering below your collar for a full five seconds before he looks back up at you. “You know, I think you’ll be a great companion for me.”
--
Your first week living in his apartment is relatively peaceful. Relatively is the operative word. Your room is comfortable, stocked with plain furniture. Heeseung gives you carte blanche to decorate it as you wish, which is nice. Cleaning up after him is a simple affair, too. He deposits his dirty dishes and takeout containers outside of his door at regular intervals – 6 pm, when he wakes up and orders something, 8 pm, when he remembers to eat something, and 2 am, when he needs a snack to keep him going. You got home from work at 5, so it wasn’t hard to accommodate him. He exclusively eats Doordash, which saddens you a bit. When you made pasta for yourself one day, you decided to knock on his door and offer him a bowl of it. His eyes had widened, like you had offered him  a plate of solid gold.
“Really?” he’d said, receiving the bowl.
“Yeah, of course.” You had smiled at him sympathetically; it was really so easy to please him.
Heeseung had grinned at you. “Thank you, thank you.” He had taken a large bite of it and closed his eyes, nodding and pointing at the bowl. “You’re so good at cooking, wow. Wow, thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“No really…you’re an angel. Like a domestic goddess.” Heeseung had looked you up and down. “You’re like a cute little maid.”
You laughed and walked away.
 His eating habits were one thing, but some things he does mystify you. He refuses to let you inside of his room, blocking your view of the door. You can catch a whiff of stale air whenever the door is cracked even slightly, which piques your interest. “It’s just really messy in here,” he’d tell you nervously. Heeseung only really comes out of his room to play Overwatch on the Smart TV in the living room. Other than that, he asks you periodically to bring him things when you get home from work.
There’s also one other issue: you swear your panties are going missing. Your favourite pair of panties has vanished, as well as a pair you generally wear when you’re on your period. You take care of all the laundry (including Heeseung’s own filthy boxers), so it’s impossible that you could have misplaced them. You don’t push anything, though.
Today is weird, though. When you get home, there’s a medium-sized package outside of the door. It has Heeseung’s name on it, so you bring it to his door and knock. “Heeseung, there’s something for you.”
Heeseung cracks the door open, his hair having grown even longer in the week you had been here. “Oh, no,” he says, pointing with a bony finger, “that’s for you.”
“Aw, Heeseung,” you say with a wide smile. “You got me something?”
Heeseung grins at you and shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for me…I hope you like it.”
You excitedly open the package, but your smile drops when you see its contents: a cheaply-made maid outfit with spaghetti straps, white lace trim, and a skirt that would cover your panties and little else. “You…want me to wear this?”
“Yes,” Heeseung says, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Come on, it’s just a dress. No one else will see.”
You sigh. He practically lets you live here for free, so you might as well play along. “What, you want me to wear it right now?”
Heeseung nods so vigorously you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his skinny little neck. You turn away to head to your room to change, but Heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “No. Change here.”
You whip your head to face him. “What?”
His gaze is steely now, his previous shyness having seemingly dissipated. “Change in front of me.” Then, as though he had been momentarily possessed, his softness returns. “Please? I don’t ask you for a lot, right?”
You swallow your pride and put the maid outfit on the ground. First, you remove your hoodie, revealing your tank top. As you fold up your hoodie, you can see Heeseung’s hand furiously moving in his boxers, which causes you to freeze.
“Keep going,” he says hoarsely, leaning his head back. Dread pools inside of your gut as you continue to strip. Soft, strained moans spill from Heeseung’s lips as he watches you strip down to your underwear. When you put on the maid costume, he carefully adjusts the straps of your dress with his slick hands. “Very nice,” Heeseung says. “Turn around for me?”
You turn, and you can feel the cool air of the apartment hitting your ass- the dress is that short. “So good,” Heeseung whispers. “You can take it off now.”
Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, but Heeseung laughs. “Not here,” he says, removing his hands from your shoulder. “In your room, silly. And after you’re done, bring the dress to me, okay?”
You’re too dazed to question his instructions, and you’re all but too happy to get out of the dress. After you’re done changing, you hand the maid outfit to him. He smiles and takes it without a word.
Things go by relatively smoothly after that, and you almost wonder if you made that incident up. The only thing that has changed about his behavior is that he comes to see you more. Not for long, only a few minutes per day. If you make cookies, he’ll ask if he can try some of the dough or try a cookie. If you’re doing the laundry, he’ll ask you about your day as you fold.
You’re currently on your hands and knees scrubbing a particularly obstinate white stain on his couch when you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you. “You know, you should wear leggings more often,” he says.
You don’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, why?”
“They make your ass look perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Of course, it looks best naked.”
You’re about to ask him how he would know how your ass looks naked before he’s already wandered off. About two minutes later, you can hear him in his room playing a low-grade pornography, his own moans mixing in with the fake screams of pleasure from the women. You put your headphones on and try to drown the sound out- even the sound of Heeseung calling your own name.
This goes on for a while, and it only gets worse. Now he leaves his door open so the sound of him jerking off echoes through the apartment. When you’re trying to sleep, you can hear the severely un-titillating sounds of the brother-con hentai he watches.
One day, you’re rummaging through your underwear drawer trying to find your comfortable, plain bra. You realize that it’s missing, and your anger reaches a boiling point. You stomp over to his room and knock on the door. “Heeseung,” you growl.
Heeseung opens the door nonchalantly and smiles. “Hi,” he says innocently, “could you clean my room for me?”
“Could I what? Heeseung, did you steal m-,”
“And could you wear this while you do it?” As if he had been expecting you, Heeseung walks over to his bed and hands you the maid outfit, your missing bra, and that pair of your favorite panties. All of them were coated in globs of cum in various stages of hardening, especially your panties.
“Heeseung!” You take a step back from him. “I’m not doing that, for fuck’s sake.”
Heeseung just smiles at you. “I think you should.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Either you wear this, or make you pay your share of the rent.” Heeseung leans towards you, and you can smell his fruity, sickly breath. “The choice is yours, of course.”
“You’re insane,” you say, leaning away from him.
“Whatever. Now get in the maid outfit.”
Tears well in your eyes as you head to your room to don the most humiliating outfit you’ve ever seen. When you put the bra and panties on, his cum oozes out of them and drips onto the floor.  The maid outfit is sticky all over, and you shiver. You don’t even look yourself in the mirror before leaving your room to see Heeseung again. His hand is already wrapped around his dick by the time you walk out, his boxers resting around his ankles.
“Wait, wait,” Heeseung says, holding up his free hand. “Don’t walk to me. Crawl to me.”
The humiliation forces your head down as you sink to your hands and knees and crawl towards Heeseung. When he sees you at his feet, Heeseung smiles, still stroking his cock. “Such a cute little maid,” he says. “Now get up on your knees, come on. Be good.”
You prop yourself up on your knees, so that you’re level with his crotch. “Now,” he says softly, “open wide.”
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and Heeseung slides his cock into your mouth. When he does, he moans loudly, and he grabs at your hair. Heeseung fucks your mouth like it’s a pussy, and the musty state of his cock makes you gag the entire time. His balls slap against your face, and he keeps whimpering pathetically. His other hand reaches down and squeezes one tit after the other, and within no time he’s pulling his cock out of your mouth, tugging it hurriedly, and finishing all over your face. He tugs his boxers up to his waist again and sighs. “That was great,” he says, affectionately ruffling your hair. “Whenever you’re ready, you can come inside my room and tidy it up. I know it bothers you that I’m so messy…”
Your jaw is too sore to speak, and for a moment you just lie there on the floor in the hallway. None of it seems real, none of it makes sense to you. The worst part of it all is that you can feel wetness pooling in between your thighs, which makes you groan softly.
A little while later, Heeseung emerges from his room. He crouches down and strokes your hair. “You want me to get you something?” he asks soothingly. “Some water, juice?”
“Water would be nice.” You cough a few times. Heeseung gets up and comes back shortly with a bottle of water that he opens for you. You pull yourself up so that you’re sitting, legs crossed, and you drink the water while Heeseung pats your hair comfortingly. Once you calm down, you and Heeseung head inside of his room.
It’s disgusting, which is an understatement. The bed is unmade and piled with stained pillows, the floor is spattered with cum, his bookshelf is a horrid mishmash of coding textbooks and manga, his closet is filled with clothes, of which only half are on hangers. His desk area is relatively clean, but one of his three monitors is playing some filthy pornography. The other has Discord open, and the third has some weird game you don’t recognize open. Worst of all is the pocket pussy resting on his gaming chair.
You sigh. Seems like you have a lot of work to do.
--
Over the next few months, you start to realize that Heeseung is treating you like a pseudo-girlfriend. He changes your contract so that he pays for virtually all of the rent, as well as the groceries. He even gives you a hefty monthly allowance, enough that you can start building up your savings.
Of course, you doubt that a regular boyfriend would treat you the way Heeseung does. For one, ever since you cleaned his room the first time, he expects you to clean it every day while donning a humiliating outfit of his choosing. He likes to have you walk around in the apartment wearing striped microkinis, plaid skirts with black G-strings, nurse costumes, maid outfits, and an elaborate swimsuit cosplay of his favorite League of Legends character. He’ll watch you as you clean his room clad in whatever skimpy outfit he’s gifted you, commenting on your body. Other times, he’ll come up behind you as you’re in the kitchen or living room and grope your ass or tits before wandering back to his cave. That’s what he does on a regular basis.
Lately, he’s been fucking you. It started when you were eating a bowl of cereal before heading off to work. You had heard his room door creak open, then his dragging, lumbering footsteps.
“Good morning,” he had whispered, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve got a little something…”
Before you could say anything, Heeseung had licked the tip of his finger and swiped up the bit of milk lingering by the corner of your mouth. He stuck his finger into his mouth, still hovering over you. Every time you took a bite of cereal, trying to finish up as quickly as you could, he would wipe your face and then suck the milk off of his fingers. His other hand rested on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly, until it slid down lower and lower. As he ran his thumb against the corner of your mouth, he slowly began groping your breasts. Heeseung pressed his lips against yours, both of his hands fondling you.
You had pulled your lips away. “Stop. I just ironed this shirt…”
“Sorry,” he had said, buttoning your shirt from behind. As soon as it was sufficiently open, he groped your tits directly, his lips on yours. He had a greedy, selfish way of kissing you; his tongue would slither down your throat, gagging you. Heeseung had unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, then he pushed your cereal to the side. He pushed you down onto the dining table, your chest pressing against the wood. You could feel his hands tugging your damp panties to the side.
“Such a nice pussy,” he had murmured. You heard him spit, then you felt cool fingers pumping themselves in and out of you. You bit your lip so you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Heeseung only prepped you just enough to get you wet, then he stuffed himself inside of you, inch by inch.
Your hands curled, desperately trying to find any purchase. It had been a long time since you had anything inside of you, and you welcomed the pleasure. But you couldn’t let Heeseung know that.
His gnarled fingernails dug into your soft flesh as he pounded away at you. He wasn’t particularly vocal, only making soft moans of pleasure. Sometimes, he would drag himself out of you, then slam back inside. He smacked your ass. “Just look at that shit jiggle,” he said breathlessly. “I want to try that out next…”
With that, he had slid his fingers into your tight hole, and you couldn’t hold back a gasp. Heeseung pumped his fingers in and out of the band of muscle, widening it. You had never taken anything up your ass before, and your toes curled in fear and anticipation.
You felt him slip out of your pussy, and the painful stretch of his cock opening your asshole replaced the pleasure you had previously felt. Heeseung groaned as he fucked your ass raw, only the precum that had dribbled from his cock for lube. Fortunately, he didn’t last, pumping your ass full with hot cum before pulling out of you. “Your pussy is definitely better,” he had muttered before walking away. While you rested against the table, trying to recollect yourself, you heard him booting up another game of League of Legends. With a palpable sense of shame, you finished yourself off right there as your cheek pressed against the table, your fingers wildly swirling against your engorged clit. You came with a shudder, then you darted into the bathroom to clean yourself up and go to work.
He never fucked your ass again, but your pussy and mouth were fair game for him. Whenever he sees you now, wearing the outfits he picks for you, he shoves his fingers down your throat. Once your throat is pliant and his fingers are coated in your spit, he either make you blow him or he fingers you wherever you are, his other hand stroking all over your body. Then he goes back into his room while you’re there, dripping wet. Heeseung likes having you wet all the time, so he can fuck you at his convenience.
Like right now, he was playing another game of Overwatch, hunched over his controller and eyes laser-focused on the screen. You were on your hands and knees, pushing yourself back and forth on his dick. This time, he had made you wear a cow-print bikini, complete with a bell; every time you fucked yourself on his cock, it would jingle.
“Fuck,” Heeseung says, voice ragged, “my team’s Tracer is so shit at kiting. It’s such a basic concept.”
“That really sucks,” you say through gritted teeth.
Heeseung reaches his hand out and touches your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your lips. “You’re such a good listener,” he coos, lazily thrusting as he removes his hand and continues playing his game. He soon stops moving, and you have to pick up his slack, rocking yourself as fast as you can so he can cum and be done with it. “Ah, stop going so fast,” Heeseung says, lightly slapping your ass. “I want to sync my nut up for when I use my ultimate.”
As you heed his instructions, you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself that homelessness is a far worse prospect than this, homelessness is bad, you wouldn’t like a homeless shelter.
It wasn’t like he didn’t jerk off anymore, either. He did, maybe even more than before he started using you. Heeseung liked to spread his legs, milk his cock right in front of you, then lick up the cum off of the couch while he told you to play with yourself. Whenever you got close to cumming, he would tell you to stop and do some task for him. Then, when you were scrubbing the dishes or wiping down his desk, he would plunge his cock into you and fuck you until you were twitching and crying out. Other times, he would make you sit in his room with him. He would sit you on his lap while he watched some degenerate hentai, and he would make you jerk him off while he fondled your tits and rubbed your clit.
Once, you went to bed early because you had a hard day at work. Your dream is odd; you’re running from a ghost in a dilapidated mansion. You can’t see it, but you can feel its presence. Then you feel it catch you, its hands wrapping around your waist, your tits. The ghost rubs your body slowly, almost tenderly, and you can feel its hardness pressing against your ass as you’re suspended in the air.
When you open your eyes, you realize that it wasn’t a dream, not quite. There is a hand that has slipped under your shirt, caressing your chest, and another hand on your waist. And someone is humping you, whimpering as he does. Quite belatedly, you realize that your pajama pants have been pulled down.
“Heeseung?” you whisper sleepily.
“Shh,” he says, “just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be done soon.”
You’re too tired from everything to fight it, so your eyes flutter shut. Heeseung slowly thrusts into you, almost like he doesn’t want to wake you, and you smile slightly at the sentiment. He fucks you lazily and slowly, and only speeds up when he’s about to cum. He cums inside of you and uses his fingers to push his seed back up.
“Thanks for letting me do that,” he whispers before leaving you alone.
As you’re drifting to sleep again, you can hear him telling someone to, “Fucking stop camping.”
This is still better than being homeless.
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somanyratsinthewalls · 8 months
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Bad Decisions (+18)
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Bad Decisions (Sanji x f Reader)
Summary: Your hunger and your impulsivity both get the best of you and you end up in a compromising position. You ask Sanji for help, but it might be even more important to him than it is to you.
Pairing: Sanji x afab!reader
WC: 3500+ oops
TWs: vaginal sex, pet names, oral sex, fingering, crying, begging, virginity loss, it's porn with a brief plot idk man
You were starving. You and the crew had just finished a rough fight on a random island and brought back several chests and bags of treasure back to the ship. For over an hour after your return, you sat on the wooden floor of the deck with Nami going through bags full of gold, silver, and rare jewels. 
“Once we find somewhere to turn all this into berries we can buy the CUTEST new outfits!” Nami shouted with her back to you, head buried in a treasure chest.
“Nami your closet can barely close and you still have stuff with the tags on it, what the hell do you need new clothes for?” You quipped back while rummaging through a burlap sack.
“I’m a pirate, I can do whatever I want y/n.”
You rolled your eyes and continued going through the bag. Your hand felt something… fleshy? Like the soft, tender skin of a banana. You grabbed it and pulled it out to see a strange pink, oblong fruit. Your immediate thought was that this was a devil fruit, but it didn’t bear the signature swirled texture. 
“Nami... come look at this…”
A door was suddenly flung open from the galley. 
“Hello my beautiful girls! I’ve prepared you an aperitif to keep you satiated before dinner is ready! My sweet y/n here-“
Sanji stopped in his tracks after his sudden intrusion.
“Where the hell did you get that? Put it down!” Sanji swiftly placed the tray he was carrying on a barrel and snatched the strange produce out of your hand. 
You were confused as to why Sanji suddenly looked so concerned. 
“Sanji what the fuck is your problem? I found that fair and square!” You snapped at him, your piracy-addled brain wanting to keep it for yourself since it was clearly of value at this point. He held it behind his back as you approached him.
“Mon amour you don’t understand, this is a very dangerous berry and should not be consumed under any circumstance.” Sanji stepped forward, eyes dark with concern.
“Ok weirdo keep your purple banana, I’m here for the diamonds.” Nami said as she carried several of the bags downstairs on the Sunny to the storeroom, leaving you and Sanji in a stalemate on the deck. 
“I’m putting this away.” he said as he walked back into the galley. You followed him quickly, not even letting the door close behind him before threw it open behind you and snipped at him.
“Ok give it up cook, what’s your deal with this thing? Why is it dangerous? It’s not a devil fruit, right?” 
“You don’t understand. These are very rare fruits that are native to the South Blue. I’ve only heard tales from patrons at the Baratie of what this can do to you. It’s the worlds most powerful aphrodisiac.” Sanji’s hands were shaking as he placed the fruit on the kitchen island. 
You snorted trying to keep your laughter in but it fought its way to the front. “Hahaha oh stop it! Those are old wives tales, Sanji. If it’s not a devil fruit, it’s harmless. You’re afraid of it, why? Afraid that it will make you what? Too horny? Come on, be serious!”
“I’m as serious as a heart attack, love. You have NO idea what this can do to someone. And there’s only one way to reverse the affects.” He met your gaze with his last sentence. You expected him to wink or pull something perverted, but his blue eyes showed nothing but worry. You sighed and backed off, realizing that the fruit probably wasn’t worth any money. You returned to the deck and going through the bags Nami left behind.
—-
After another half hour of treasure picking, you heard the growl of your stomach and was painfully reminded of how hungry you were. You silently cursed the curly-browed chef that dinner was taking so long. You made your way to the galley to see how the cooking process was going. 
You walked in to find an empty kitchen. Sanji was probably out having a cigarette. He stopped smoking in the kitchen as much after Robin found a pile of ash in her scrambled eggs one morning. Sanji felt so bad that he cried and groveled for three days. 
You remembered where Sanji stashed that fruit in the ice box. 
Curiously you lifted the lid of the ice box and grabbed the strange berry. As you rolled it in your hand inspecting it, your stomach panged again. Long term thinking had NEVER been your strong suit, hence why you ended up on a dangerous pirate crew with little experience at sea. 
Impulsively, you popped the fruit in your mouth. 
And god, fuck, it was the most magical taste you’ve ever experienced. It was like dark chocolate, raspberries, lavender, all the most tender, delicate flavors rolled into one. You audibly groaned as you tongued it around your mouth. You didn’t want the experience to end but you had to swallow. Right as the fruit hit your stomach the door to the deck opened and there was your blonde lovecook. He looked at you, then at the empty fruit stem in your hand. 
“Tell me you didn’t…” he stood there, mouth agape. 
“So what if I did? I was hungry and you’re dragging ass with dinner. Those stories aren’t even real, I’ll be fine.” You confidently strode towards him trying to move around his tall, slender frame when he grabbed the sides of your arms and forced you to look at him. 
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS?”
“Get off me!” You were young but you were strong and you shook off his grasp with ease. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me. I can handle myself.” And you ducked past him and walked out onto the deck and back down to your room. You would be fine, right? He had no evidence other than stories from dirty old men on the Baratie. You spent awhile in your room reading before the crew was called for dinner. It was a beautiful spread. Luffy was dominating the serving platters while you sat next to Robin and joked about something gross Franky had done earlier in the day with a large bottle of cola. 
Halfway through the meal you started to feel warm. You ignored it, blaming the summer heat. But the warmth grew, spread to your cheeks and deep in your tummy. Your skin felt like you had a fresh sunburn. Robin rubbed your arm accidentally while laughing at a joke and you jolted forward, your skin being so sensitive and hot. 
“Are you okay y/n?” Robin asked looking into your eyes, visibly concerned.
“I’m fine I think… I think I’m just tired… maybe I need to go to bed.”
You looked across the wooden dining table and Sanji was staring directly at you. He had clearly been watching you the whole time, eyes filled with concern for your physical state. You ignored his glare and excused yourself back down to your room. This feeling was unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. It was like static electricity going straight through your veins. You went straight to the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face repeatedly. After a big sigh you buried your face in a towel. Looking up into the mirror you notice something. Your nipples were completely erect. 
You couldn’t possibly believe that this fruit did what Sanji said it did… but you realized you were growing increasingly wet between your legs. 
“You’re kidding…” You audibly curse to yourself. 
You went back to your bed and grabbed your book to start reading and calm yourself down. You stared at the pages, your brain unable to focus on any of the words, only able to focus on the electric feeling in your body. 
Your body was no longer just hot, it was BURNING. You were wearing a large grey t shirt and light pink panties. You look down and see that you’ve soaked them completely through. Frustrated, you throw your book on the table and lay fully on your back. You want to resolve the issue quickly without problems so you reach your hand down into your underwear and start to circle your clit with your right hand. 
It wasn’t enough. 
You insert your pointer and middle finger inside of yourself the way you always do when you need to release. It wasn’t working. You were hurting. It simply wasn’t enough. You kept trying. You were panting and sweating, your hair plastered to your forehead and grunting in frustration as you struggled to reach a peak. Your skin was so sensitive but you simply couldn’t get there. You were starting to feel sick…. The hot, sweating feeling becoming too much for your brain. An idea suddenly hit you-
“There’s only one way to reverse the effects.” Sanji. He knew. He knew how to fix this. You sprinted out of bed, still in a t shirt and panties and grabbed your baby den den mushi and called the Sunny’s landline, knowing it was in the kitchen and Sanji would be there washing dishes. It rang. You waited. Sweat beads dripping down your forehead, pain radiating through your lower half, you kept waiting for a response. 
“Y/n? Mon amour? Are you okay?” Sanji’s concerned, deep voice came through on the line.
“No I’m not. You were right I was wrong, okay? I need you to get down here now.”
He breathed heavily on the other end, having an idea as to what you were going through. He didn't respond.
“Sanji. You told me you knew how to fix this. Please…” your voice was trembling and broken. 
As soon as he heard the desperation in your begging he knew it was serious. He had an obligation to his crew mate. 
“I’ll be there right now.” And he hung up.
Barely a few moments later you heard rapid knocks on your door and the knob turning. Sanji was fully unprepared for the sight he saw when he entered your room.
There you were. Laid out on your bed, but thighs clamped together so desperately trying to get any sort of friction on your aching clit. Sweat from your neck had stained your large, old t shirt. Your breathing was so heavy he could see your breasts rise and fall tiredly, clearly not wearing a bra. 
“I told you not to do this…”
“Okay! I know! I get it! I should have listened to you! But right now Sanji I-… I need your help.. please…” 
He had imagined it so many times… you spread out in bed, begging and pleading for him. Was he dreaming again? He fisted his cock late at night so often thinking about this exact situation. But as a gentleman he was hesitant. Would you be begging for him like this had you not ingested that fruit? Would it be right to touch you like this? You weren’t drunk, you weren’t on drugs, but is it right? His brain was going a thousand nautical miles a minute until you spoke again.
“Sanji…”
You looked at him as you sat up on your elbows. You let your legs fall apart as far as they would go so he could see the massive soaked spot on your panties. 
“Sanji please… it hurts so much…” 
Hurts. You said it hurts. You were in pain. He could see the tears threatening to fall from your lashes. He has never seen you like this a day in his life, even 2 years ago when you first joined the crew and you were new to piracy. He had seen you take blade slices and Chopper sewed them up with no anesthesia and you barely winced. He could barely imagine the pain and frustration that was causing you to have this reaction now. He vowed to never leave a woman in distress, and you certainly were. 
“Let me go get Chopper, he will know what to do.”
“NO!” You shout at him. “Don’t you dare tell anyone on this ship what happened. You said you could help me and I need it.” You were pleading with him. He saw the look in your eyes. So much desperation. So much lust. How could he leave you writhing in all this pain?
Screw it. 
Sanji quickly slips off his shirt jacket and it falls to the floor. He strides toward you loosening his tie. He sits down next to you on the bed. He was more than a little hesitant but he couldn’t resist anymore.
“I need you to understand... that if I help you with this… we won’t ever be the same… I need you to tell me that’s okay.” 
You grabbed his hand. It was so soft and delicate in yours. Slender fingers slotting in between yours. You looked up into his all-blue eyes, you could see the worry. He looked at you like a porcelain doll that he might break if he takes it off the shelf to play with. But you could tell deep down, he wanted to play.
“It’s okay. I need your help Sanji. Please help me.” You breathed out, the feelings getting so much more intense. Your pussy was clenching around nothing after just feeling his hand in yours… your pulse was so high… You needed release soon or you thought you might have a heart attack.
“Fine. But if anything feels wrong you’ll tell me to stop, love, right?”
You nodded your head aggressively and lifted your torso off the bed and removed your shirt. Tossing it aside you then shimmied off your panties, leaving your body fully naked on the bed for him. He had never seen something so beautiful… pert, full breasts heaving on your chest, a sheen of sweat covering your skin. A puddle was forming on the sheets between your legs…. He knew this wasn’t normal. The wetness your pussy was experiencing was nothing human at this point, dripping far more than was normal for any biological person. It was clearly aching.
Sanji got to his knees at the base of the bed, fully taking his tie off now and undoing several buttons of his dress shirt. “Ok love, I’m going to fix all of this.”
He grabbed the backs of your knees and yanked your sweat covered body to the edge of the bed so that he was face to face with your hot, dripping sex. 
“Merde…”
Sanji knew this was his dream. Sure the All Blue was number one but this was the best thing he’s ever seen or smelled. He leans forward towards your bare pussy to deeply inhale your scent. You cover your face, embarrassed at his lewd, perverted actions.
“Sanji please…” you were whining and writhing, waiting for him to touch you. 
He firmly grabs your hip with one hand and holds you down while he spreads your lips with two fingers from the other hand. No longer able to resist your sopping cunt, he dives in immediately and latches onto your throbbing clit. 
You scream out underneath his touch, your skin so painfully sensitive that it feels a thousand times more pleasurable with his mouth. You moan loudly as he laps and sucks at your most sensitive area. With the affects of the fruit and the pleasure Sanji is giving to you, your brain short circuits. You instinctively fist his blonde locks and pull him deeper into your cunt. You needed release and you needed it now. 
Sanji was in Heaven, your sweet sounds and the taste of your rapturous pussy he could barely think straight. Things were going beyond well… especially for someone who has never done this before. Sanji has never touched a woman, let alone had sex. This was a show. He snuck some of Robin’s erotic novels months ago and tried to understand  how to please a woman should the opportunity arise. Sanji’s hands were shaking on your thighs, trying to make sure everything was perfect for you. He remembered reading that having fingers inside a woman feels good when done right. He inserts two fingers and crooks them upwards, pulling slightly while his lips were wrapped around your clit and you shouted out in pleasure.
“Sanji! Oh my god! That’s it, please! It’s perfect, right there! Don’t you dare stop, please!”
Hearing you simultaneously praise and beg him made his head swim. He never thought he’d be able to pleasure a woman like this. He ruts his crotch into the side of the bed as he slurps down all of your sinful juices, trying to suppress his own sexual desires. 
You felt the tension and in your belly start to reach its peak and you aggressively grabbed Sanji’s head.
“Im… cumming!” You shrieked as you released all over his face. You laid back and heaved and felt relieved.. but only for a moment… 
He pulled off of your cunt, goatee soaked in your release. He greedily licks his lips, smirk forming at the corners.  
“My love… it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my life… and as someone with a refined palate, I simply can’t say what an honor it’s been.” He tries to compose himself and put his tie back into place as he stands up from the bed. You grab his wrist. 
“Sanji… I need more… all of it… please…” 
He couldn’t believe that he was hearing. Was this it? He needed you almost as bad as you needed him at this point. 
“My darling… do you mean that?” He asks hesitantly
“Of course I do. It still hurts, Sanji. I can’t get rid of this unless I feel all of you inside of me… please…”
Sanji rips off his clothes at lightening speed, stumbling over his trousers in the process. Thick cock slapping his stomach as he pulls down his briefs. He climbs back onto the bed and hovers over you. Remembering the books he read, he grabs an extra pillow and shoves it under your ass, grabbing an experimental squeeze as he does it. You giggle.
“M-my love… I’ve… I’ve never done this before.”
You look up at him, shocked and bewildered. A virgin? Maybe it was because of the mysterious fruit’s effects, but this man had just given you the most earth shattering orgasm you’ve ever had. How can this really be his first time?
“Oh Sanji I’m sorry I just can’t help it, if you don’t want to-“ He cut you off with a sloppy, passionate kiss on your lips. It was messy, it was frantic, it was needy and so, so good. He pulls back panting and says to you, 
“I want to. My love, I want to more than you know, please let me help you.” 
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and reached up to cup his face with one hand and pull him into a kiss. With your other hand you reached down and guided his throbbing, virgin cock into yourself. 
Sanji groans against your lips, you suck a breath in, finally feeling the fullness your body has been violently craving for what felt like an eternity. He leans back from your kiss, seemingly trying to catch his breath and compose himself. He knew it would be good, but the feeling was far more than he’d ever imagined. Your insides were so warm, so wet and open for him, fitting him inside you so perfectly like the last piece to a puzzle. He was broken out of his trance by a desperate whine from underneath him.
“Sanji… baby please… I need more, fuck me now please?” You bucked your hips upwards into him deeper, trying to fuck yourself on his cock desperately trying to fix the painful ache in your lower half. 
He pulled out of you slowly, still hesitant as to what to do, this being the first time he’s ever made love to a woman, let alone someone he felt so passionately about. He leans forward and fully pushes his sensitive cock back inside of you and you let out a high pitched whine. He repeats his actions as he finds a comfortable rhythm. 
“Oh Sanji thank you so much, thank you so much, it feels so good baby, just like that…” You punctuated his thrusts with explicit compliments and loud moans. Growing confident, he leans back and places his hands on the back of your thighs and pushes them up to your chest. He speeds up his hips and you feel his thick cock reach the perfect spot at this new angle. 
“Sanji! There!” You were screaming at this point. Sanji had half a mind to cover your mouth, knowing every other person on the Sunny could hear you calling out his name in pleasure… but the other half? The thought of everyone knowing that HE was the one giving you such intense pleasure that you can’t help but shriek his name throughout the ship? That was the half that was winning. 
You feel like you’re about to explode. It was right there, you could feel it. Tears begin streaming down your face as your love cook destroys your sloppy pussy with vigor. 
“My love you’re so close, I can barely pull myself out… Please cum for me? Mon amour, I need to see it again. I need to feel you cum on me, please? You’re so beautiful when you cum, you’re perfect, darling, please?” Sanji was shamelessly begging you to release on his cock. He desperately drilled his hips into you, pushing your further up into a pretzel. 
“Yes Sanji I’m right there, fuck baby I’m cumming, SHIT-“ you screamed. The orgasm ripped through your entire body, unlike you’ve ever felt. It was an almost painful, intense pleasure. Sanji continued to plow into you, so incredibly close to his own peak, trying to talk you through it but your ears were ringing. 
“So perfect baby, such a perfect, gorgeous pussy. My perfect little pussy, so good for me…I love you so mu- oh my darling, I’m going to cum, please let me fill you!”
Your brain short circuited, so broken by your orgasm, body almost numb. “Yes of course, I want all of it Sanji please! I want your cum inside of me.”
And with that, he did. He moaned your name loudly as he slumps forward meeting your forehead with his. He lets your legs fall comfortably, but stays on top and inside of you. Nothing but heavy breathing and the sound of waves hitting the side of the ship could be heard. After a few minutes he pulls back and he looks into your eyes, seeing the relief, that you’re finally rid of your pain, he smiles. You smile back. You both start laughing. 
“Sanji, thank you.” You finally breath out after catching the giggles, not even believing what just happened. 
“It truly was my pleasure, darling. Just… just promise me you won’t do anything that stupid again?”
“After how incredible that was? I can make absolutely no promises.” You laugh. “Hey remember when you said you loved me?”
Sanji buried his face in your neck with a groan, clearly embarrassed and hiding his shame. It wasn’t a lie, he just knew you didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t know what to say, he wanted to throw himself into the ocean outside the window just to get away from confronting this. He pulled out of the crook of your neck to look at your face. 
“Y/n I-“
“Shhh…” you press your finger to his kiss-bitten lips. “Stay here tonight. We can talk tomorrow.” You assure him while stroking his cheek. Sanji sighs in relief, kissing you gently and laying his head on the pillow next to yours. With nothing left to say you both drift off to sleep, limbs tangled together on your mattress. You can talk about this in the morning.
xx
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the-travelling-witch · 5 months
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summary: a pouty demon has become part of your nighttime routine
pairing: mammon x gn!reader
warnings: fluff with mentions of insecurities (skin/appearance related)
obey me! masterlist
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“Babe, how much longer are ya goin’ to take?” Mammon whined from behind you, his pout reflecting in the large bathroom mirror.
“I’ve only just finished with cleansing.” Turning off the faucet, you gently dabbed a towel over your face, watching the demon with affectionate eyes. “But everything else shouldn’t take too long.”
“Why d’ya have to do all of this anyway?” Apparently not content with your answer, he stepped closer to you and cut himself off with a yawn. “Just come to bed.”
You’d think that, as a model, Mammon would understand the importance of skincare but, to your annoyance, he was one of those guys who seemingly splashed their face with water and still had the perfect complexion.
Could demons also be god’s favourites? One glance over his shirtless form definitely swayed your answer towards ‘yes’.
“No, this is important. Especially if you keep sitting me down for a bowl of spicy late-night ramen,” you sighed. By now, Mammon had closed the gap between the two of you, his arms comfortably circled around your waist and his cheek squished against the top of your head. “Besides, I finally want to be free of these blemishes and look good too.”
Immediately, Mammon stood straight and held you a little tighter. The angelic eyes looking at you through the mirror were earnest and genuine as he spoke with a bewildered tone, almost as if what you had said never occurred to him.
“But yer already so pretty! How could ya get any more stunnin’ than this?”
That was what you loved about him. Despite his usually tsundere behaviour, he never failed to compliment you with his entire heart behind it. Having someone so sincerely tell you you were beautiful, while you wore an old shirt of his as pyjama, had no makeup on and had your insecurities out in the open like this, it made you start believing it too.
A thought that was kinda terrifying.
But you had no time to go teary-eyed or worry about whether you were starting to become too conceited or delusional. Not with this demon around. Before you could say something, Mammon had already swooped down, snowy hair obscuring part of your vision, and planted a sweet kiss onto your cheek. Both the surprise of his action and the visual of his face scrunched up in disgust as he tasted the toner on his lips made you laugh, shushing the voices in your head.
“That one’s on you, I already told you not to do that when I’m doing my routine,” you giggled. Then, you twisted in his hold and returned an equally affectionate kiss to his cheek. “Thank you so much though. Hearing that means a lot.”
“Don’t look at me like that! Just hurry up, so we can go to bed!” Though he averted his eyes, you could still feel the heat radiating off his face and you suppressed another laugh. He really was too cute for his own good.
Even though he’d complained a lot about the lengthiness of your little ritual, he still attentively watched you work, offering his concerns about the colour of a hot pink serum (“Should ya really be puttin’ that on yer face?”) and having his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you casually mentioned one of your creams could bleach clothes or hair.
“Well, good thing your hair is already white and you’re already shirtless,” you joked as you finished putting on your moisturiser before turning and looping your arms around his neck. “Because I plan to cuddle you all-night long.”
“Ya’d better! Yer the only human who’d ever make me, the Avatar of Greed, wait, ya know,” Mammon huffed. Contradictory to his words, he had already swooped you up princess-style and set off towards the bedroom.
“Mhm and I am so glad you were generous enough to give me so much of your time. Maybe this,” you put a hand over his heart as he gently lowered you onto the mattress, “is made out of gold after all.”
“Now yer just bein’ cheesy,” Mammon snorted as he crawled under the black sheets with you and pulled you close, the same way a tide would always reach for the shore again and again. “Ya should get some rest before ya say somethin’ even more stupid.”
“But I was just about to confess to the best thing that ever happened to me,” you hummed. When he sceptically raised an eyebrow, you looked him deep in the eyes and smiled. “I love you, Mammon.”
For a fraction of a second his eyes widened in shock before he shut them tightly as he inhaled. When he opened them again, he mirrored your fond smile as a slender finger traced the side of your face.
“I love ya too, treasure.”
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oddinary4bts · 3 months
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When the End Comes | epilogue (jjk)
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☆summary: when the weather seems to work against you and Jungkook for your wedding day, you decide to change plans last minute. In any other situation, it would have made you freak out - but how can you freak out, when you're getting married to the love of your life?
☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)
☆genre: marriage!au, fluff, smut
☆warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, mentions of Jungkook's injury, mentions of breakups, Jungkook's scars, explicit content: wedding night sex, nipple play, a tie around OC's neck, jerking off, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, fingering, dirty talking, squirting, ball fondling, shower sex, unprotected sex (they're married give them a break haha)
☆word count: 12.1k
☆series masterpost
☆a/n: Finally finished the epilogue for you guys! I hope you love it just as much as I loved writing it :') it's going to be hard to say goodbye to this couple, but I hope you love their ending <3 Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng
☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!
☆☆☆☆☆
My heart is going onto you So be the heart that I'm choosing, heart that I'm choosing Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes
When the End Comes, Andrew Belle
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, July 6th
The rising sun turns your bedroom into liquid gold, slowly dragging you out of sleep. You bask in the gentle warmth, instinctively turning around to cuddle closer to Jungkook.
In his sleep, Jungkook wraps an arm around you, pulling you ever so closer until your head is pressed to his chest. His heartbeat sings in your ear and you listen to the melody, wishing it would make you fall back asleep.
Alas, your thoughts trot to tomorrow, and like a kid on Christmas morning, too excited to fall back asleep, sleep evades you. So you just enjoy Jungkook’s proximity, sighing softly as he brushes a kiss on the top of your head.
You smile against him, kissing the skin of his chest against which your face is pressed. Jungkook shifts a little bit, his breathing growing slightly uneven, the only indication that he’s waking up as well.
“Morning,” he whispers, voice gruff with sleep.
“Morning,” you echo, and you try to pull back to take a look at his face, but he holds you tighter.
You chuckle, and you snake an arm around his waist, gently caressing the skin of his back. The moment is peaceful, serene, the kind of moments you never want to step away from. They have been frequent, since you moved in with him in Seoul. Life with him has been perfect, like it was at the very beginning of your relationship. Now, no long distance can ever create a wedge between the two of you - every decision you make together, for the both of you.
You’ve been falling in love with him more every day.
“Let’s stay here until tomorrow,” Jungkook whispers, his hold on you momentarily tightening. 
You peck his chest again. “I wish we could.”
He whines, a sound that vibrates in his ribcage, and this time you laugh. “Please?”
“You don’t want to get married anymore?” you ask, faking offense as you try to push away from him again.
He doesn’t let you go, though you fight against him for a little longer this time around.
“On the contrary,” he replies. “I kind of wish we’d get married faster.”
It’s a struggle, but you manage to raise your head to look at him. From this angle, all you can see is his sharp jawline and the mole on his neck.
“Why?”
“Because I love you?”
His words make your heart race in your chest, like they always do. Because no amount of declaration of love will ever be enough to stop the uprising of butterflies, to slow down the organ that beats for him. 
That has been beating for him since a July night eight years ago. Still, when you were apart, it kept on beating for him, and you know that it will keep on beating for him until you draw your very last breath, at the end of the long road still ahead of the two of you.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
“I know.”
A comfortable silence settles around the two of you again, and you believe you might be able to fall back asleep after all. Unfortunately for you, Bam heard the two of you, and his wagging tail bangs against the dresser as the dog walks over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, propping his front paws on the mattress so that he can reach for Jungkook.
Jungkook shrieks, sitting up, and you burst out laughing, rolling on your back as he lets go of you. 
“He licked me,” Jungkook complains, his familiar pout on display.
You sit up, pressing a gentle kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I should lick you too.”
His pout melts into a devilish smirk. “I’ve got ideas of where you could lick, mmh.”
You laugh as he tackles you, pushing you back down on the bed. Bam takes that as a cue to jump on the bed, and the next five minutes are spent in giggles and laughs and shrieks, a tangled mess of your own little family. When you all finally calm down, Jungkook slips out of bed with the dog in tow so that he can feed him, and you enjoy a few more minutes of peace before you follow them.
When you walk into the kitchen, Jungkook is busying himself with plating the soy eggs you’ve been eating for breakfast, and he offers you a grin over his shoulder. You think the grin would be enough to make you fly, and you smile in return as you walk over to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his dainty waist. 
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Mmh.”
He laughs, gently patting your arm. “You’ll get your food soon enough, fear not.”
You hum again, pressing a kiss on his soft skin. His muscles flex as he moves, and you let go of him, heading to the table. Bam trots to you, and you pet the dog as Jungkook finishes with breakfast, carrying it to you. He sits next to you, pecking your cheek as he puts down a plate in front of you.
“Thank you,” you say, immediately diving into the food. It makes Jungkook laugh, even as he follows suit. 
As you eat, Jungkook grabs his phone from his pocket, scrolling on Instagram. You look at the screen as he does so, resting your head on his shoulder when you’re done with the eggs. It’s something you also often do - looking at memes and the likes together, spending time in silence, together. 
“I hope the forecast has changed for tomorrow,” Jungkook says through a yawn as he switches to the weather app.
It hasn’t. The forecast still announces a rainstorm, and you hide your face in his neck as you groan.
“What are we supposed to do?” you ask. “We can’t have everyone sit in the rain.”
“The reception hall said we can be there early,” Jungkook reminds you. “We can just have the ceremony there instead.”
You pout, not replying. Because you had planned to have the ceremony outside - you’d even wanted to have it happen at night, under a blanket of stars. But it wasn’t possible, so you’d settled for a ceremony outside in a field. Unlike traditional Korean weddings, you’d also decided to have a reception after, so Jungkook has a point.
But you really don’t feel like getting married indoors.
“We should just cancel everything,” you whine. “Let’s wait until we can have our perfect wedding.”
Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “It’s sunny today.” His voice holds mischief, and you sit back to look at him. His eyes twinkle like stars in the night sky, and for a moment, you just want to get lost in his gaze.
Until an idea sparks in your mind.
“Can we move everything to today?” you ask.
He purses his lips. “Jimin, Bridget and Heather are landing today,” he reminds you. “I thought you wanted to introduce Jimin and Somi.”
Somi. A friend you met during your spinning classes. She’s been a gift here in Korea, helping you adjust in ways that Jungkook couldn’t. More than that, Somi is a hopeless romantic, and something about the way she carries herself makes you think that Jimin would like her. 
Maybe she’s what Jimin needs to finally move on from Scottie.
“Right,” you let out. “Fuck.”
Jungkook shrugs. “We could get married and then still have the reception tomorrow.”
Your gaze widens. “You think your dad would accept?”
Indeed, Jungkook’s father is your officiant, since your own father wouldn’t have any legal right to marry you in South Korea. It was still an easy decision though - Jungkook’s family has been treating you like you’ve always been a part of them ever since you’ve met them, all those years ago.
“Definitely,” Jungkook affirms. “I can call him right now.”
“What about the witnesses?” you ask.
“Ask your dad to come, and my mother or my brother can sign for me.”
It seems so simple. You do feel a little guilty thinking about all of your friends who came all the way here to see you get married, but then again, you think they would understand.
They all know that you and Jungkook have always been a little more on the secretive side, even when you were young and dumb college students. So you don’t think any of them would hold it against you…
“Jungkook…”
“Yes?”
“Should we really?”
Even as you ask the question, you already know you want to. Because declaring your love in a room full of people feels like a lot of pressure, even though all of them are already aware of that same love. But to you, it feels impersonal, and you’d rather just do it alone with Jungkook and a few key people.
Maybe it’s the reason why the forecast has been battling against you. Like a sign that you aren’t supposed to get married in that field anyway.
“Do you want to?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side as his features grow serious. 
You nod once. “I think it’s a good idea…” you trail off, wetting your lips. “Especially considering the rain.”
“And then I’d get to call you wife today,” he says, smiling softly.
“And I’d get to call you husband.”
His smile slowly widens. “Then let’s do it.”
“What about everyone else though? What do we say?”
Jungkook flicks your nose, winking at you. “They don’t need to know.”
“And the hairstylist and makeup artist?” 
“You can still get glammed up for the reception.”
“And Mingyu?”
“I’ll tell him to come today.”
You hold his big doe eyes for a moment, pursing your lips. Your heart syncs with his, warmth filling your soul. It feels like that July night sky, like his lips on yours and a reunion after months apart. Time stretches, and for a moment, you see all of your life in front of you, and all the love and the happiness and joy that it will hold. 
Eyes slowly lining with silver, you finally say, “Let’s do it.”
*****
The field is lined with wildflowers, swimming in the breeze. Their fragrance floats in the air, and bees flutter from flower to flower, collecting the pollen. Fat clouds roll in the sky above, plump and white, and the sun shines, endlessly.
The arch where you were supposed to get married tomorrow is already there, a beautiful contraption of entwined vines. White and lilac balloons were supposed to be added to it, but the lack of them doesn’t deter you.
Not when the man you love is waiting for you, right under it. Eyes shining with unshed tears, as your hand tightens on your father’s arm.
“Let’s do it,” your father whispers for just you to hear.
You swallow around the lump in your throat. “What if it’s the wrong thing to do?”
You can’t help the anxiety. It isn’t even what you truly feel - just the anxiety of an important moment in your life, coming sooner than expected. Your question makes your father laugh.
“I’ve never seen a man loving a woman as much as the kid loves you,” he reassures you. “Put him out of his misery.”
You snort, though it sounds more like a sob, as a tear rolls on your cheek. “I love him so much, too.”
Your father pats your hand, and then starts walking you towards where Jungkook is waiting for you, his mother and brother next to him, his father behind him. All of them look at you with tears in their eyes, and you fight the next wave that threatens to spill on your cheeks. 
Louis, Isabelle, Jungkook’s brother’s wife and their kids are standing on each side of the makeshift aisle, as the chairs weren’t delivered yet. Still, they also look at you. For a moment, you picture your friends - Jiho, Hobi, Somi, Heather, Bridget, Jo, Taehyung, Kiko, Yoongi, Jin, Valeria, Jimin, Lance and Chaeyeong… You picture all of them sharing this moment of love with you. You do feel bad for them - especially for Jiho and Heather, who were supposed to be your bridesmaids - but then again, you’ll see them tonight.
For your pretend bachelorette. 
Everyone present right now promised to keep this instant secret, at least until the reception tomorrow. Just so that you can tell your friends yourself when the moment comes.
You take a step forward, and then another, the distance between you and Jungkook slowly diminishing until you’re standing right in front of him, close enough to see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his bottom lip. You see everything and nothing at once, your tears blinding you until you blink them away.
Jungkook is not faring any better. Two tears are rolling down his right cheek, and he wipes them with the back of his hand, chuckling softly.
He looks beautiful in his tuxedo, the form tight to his body. He looks massive, strong, yet so delicate in the way his features soften as he looks at you. As he melts like ice in the sun, like you do as well. You melt like that winter of the months away from him never existed, like you never broke up for those terrible months. The memory of them left a scar on your heart, but as you look at him right now, you think the scar is disappearing, like maybe it really never existed.
You look down at yourself, at the white dress on your body. It’s tight to your frame, but the fabric is stretchy enough for it to remain comfortable. Its off-the-shoulder style is perfect for the warm temperature, and the lace that decorates it is beautiful, yet simple.
Jungkook takes you in, whispering, “You’re beautiful,”, as his father starts reciting the usual wedding speech. As much as you want to focus, to paint this moment in your memory, to be able to relive it again and again, it flashes before you until you finally reach the vows.
Jungkook scrapes his throat, then lets out a small, pained sob as new tears roll down his cheeks. You cry in time with him, laughing through it all, as you wipe the tears on his face.
“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Wow. I…” he trails off, chuckling again, and his hands close around yours in the space between you. “I never believed we’d finally reach this day,” Jungkook finally says. “For years, I’ve known that you were the one. Hell, I knew the first day I saw you.” He chuckles, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “I think that’s why you got on my nerves so much.” You swat his arm, laughing, and he winks at you. “I think then I was just scared, because I knew just how much I was going to love you someday, and it first scared me. But when I finally got to be with you, I realized there is nothing to be scared about when it comes to my love for you.” He pauses, blinking a few times. “Except when you get mad at me. That’s scary.”
Soft laughter surrounds you, that of the closest people in your life right now. Mingyu snaps pictures, and your brain zeroes in on the sound for a few seconds until Jungkook speaks again.
“And then I lost you.” You shut your eyes, the pain of the few months away awakening inside of you. “I hated myself for those few months, but even then, I think I knew it was always going to be us two. Whether in this life or another, I knew I’d find you again.” His voice, heavy with emotion, wavers on the last words, and it takes him a moment of breathing in and out before he’s able to continue. “I will forever be thankful that I found you again in this life. That I’ll get to spend every day of my life with you.”
The wind is gentle on your features, almost as gentle as Jungkook’s touch is. Your hands tighten on his fingers for a few seconds, to give him the strength to finish.
“That we’ll get to share the dance of our lives, until death does us part,” he finishes. “I love you, Y/n.”
That last bit was barely over a whisper, yet it clangs through you, vibrates in your soul beautifully. You laugh softly, whispering, “I love you too, Jungkook. So, so much.”
He laughs too, and then you both blink away tears, right as you take a few deep breaths, trying to get ready for your own vows.
You’ve prepared them a while ago. As a matter of fact, the days following his proposal you’d known what you were going to say. You’d almost suggested getting married right then and there, though you don’t regret anything.
Because today feels right. It feels right in ways you can’t comprehend, like it’s time for an entirely new cataclysm, but one that creates.
One that creates a life instead of destroying. That creates a world for just you and him, something you’ll share until the very end.
“Jungkook,” you start. “I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. Even when I didn’t know what love was, you were there in my heart, slowly making the place yours. When we danced under the stars eight years ago, I knew we would make it to this day. That we’d get married, that we’d always be partners. And I want us to be partners. I want us to make every important decision together, to love and hold each other. To dance under a thousand different night skies, to grow old and grumpy together. Every day, I will love you. I will look into your eyes and know that they were made for me.”
You pause, wiping tears on your cheeks. “I also want to thank you. Thank you for being patient with me, for welcoming me back into your life after those months last year. Thank you for still loving me, for still wanting me even though I broke your heart. And thank you, all those years ago, for being there for me, even though we were at an awkward place in life. The help you granted me when I got kicked out kept me going, and I really, really thank you for it. I just hope I can repay you properly through the years.”
“You already have,” Jungkook chokes out. 
You want to wrap him in your arms, but you resist, instead holding his gaze with all the love in your heart. You think your souls are merging, though you reckon you’ve been one for far longer than this moment already.
You’ve been one since you first chose to love him, and he you.
“You can exchange the rings,” Jungkook’s father says, and he sounds just as choked on emotion as the two of you.
So you do, Jungkook gently pushing the ring on your finger. It’s pretty, delicate, similar to the engagement ring he’d gotten you. Though the wedding ring sports emeralds instead, shaped like leaves. It’s fairy-like, and you smile at its simple beauty before putting Jungkook’s ring on his finger. 
He raises his hand to look at the ring, smiling brightly. As his father proclaims to kiss the bride, Jungkook’s hand shifts towards you, before gently grabbing your chin. He tilts your head back, and your eyes dip to his mouth as he wets his lips.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he says, and then he’s crashing his mouth on yours, ravishing a passionate kiss on your lips. 
You wrap your arms around his neck as he dips you, unable to stop the smile that grows on your lips despite the intensity of the kiss. Jungkook is smiling too, and he straightens you as he pulls away before pecking your lips once more.
“I love you so fucking much too.”
*****
Lying to your friends has been feeling like a game you can play too well. Or maybe it’s only because you’re still reeling from getting married, though you have yet to call Jungkook your husband. You’re waiting until tomorrow, maybe to save something for your wedding night.
It’s hard to tell why you both refrained. Maybe you just really want something special for the wedding night, for the moment you’ll finally be embracing in your marital bed, limbs entwined until one can’t tell where you end and where he begins.
Your blood heats up at the thought. Earlier, when you were forced to part ways, you’d almost decided to stay. To stay and fuck him right then and there, to consummate this union between you and him. From the way he’d kissed you, driving his knee between your legs, you know he wanted it too.
But time ran out, and Jiho knocked on your door, stealing you away.
You shake your head, trying to clear your mind so that you can focus on your friends. On the dinner going on around you, with too much alcohol for it to be safe. When you told your friends that the ceremony was supposedly moved inside and later in the day, they’d decided that drinking more was the way to go.
So maybe you shake your head to clear your mind from the alcohol as you dive into the food. It’s delicious, and you eat and laugh and smile with your friends, loving how Somi fits right in despite the language barrier. Both Jiho and Chaeyeoung also speak Korean, so it’s been helping for sure, Somi chatting happily with them.
You sit back in your chair, looking over your group of friends. Heather, with her arm on the chair behind Bridget, smiling broadly at something Bridget is saying. Jiho, fast in a conversation with Somi and Chaeyeoung about a group Jungkook was photographing last week. Jo and Kiko, subtly trying to pour shots for the both of them, the latter’s cheeks already flushed red. Valeria watching them, eyes crinkled with happiness.
You love them so freaking much.
You wonder if Jungkook is sitting through a similar dinner with the rest of the friend group. You wonder if he, too, is thinking of you, imagining the moment you’ll finally be reunited. Imagining the moment you’ll be able to put the ring back on your finger so that everyone will know you’re his and he’s yours.
“Hey, are you planning to give some of that to the rest of us?” you ask Jo and Kiko, and Jo startles, spilling alcohol over the rim of her shot glass.
“Oh,” Jo lets out. “You guys want some?”
“Aren’t we partying tonight?” you remind her.
Jo smirks wickedly. “We sure are.”
And so she pours shots for everyone. You clink the glasses together, not caring for the spilled alcohol, and knock it back. The burn down your throat is devilish, and you know that tonight might just be the time of your life, in different ways than tomorrow night will be.
You notice Valeria looking at her still full shot glass before putting it down on the table. She finds you looking, and she shrugs her shoulders.
“Wait,” you let out, and everyone turns to look at you. “Are you…?”
Valeria chuckles, eyes filling with tears. “Yeah, I am.”
Everybody screams and shrieks in happiness, congratulating her. She beams under the attention, and you find yourself blinking back tears for her and Jin. They’d been trying for kids for a few years now, but they’d been unlucky so far. So you’re really happy for them, and you get up to hug your friend tight.
“I didn’t mean to steal your shine,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you pull away. “I’m just happy for you.”
She smiles, nodding her head. “Thank you.”
You pat her shoulder, walking back to your seat so that the other girls can hug and congratulate her. Questions about how far along she is and if she wants a girl or a boy are exchanged, and you watch the scene unfold with a teary-eyed smile on your lips.
Jiho, sitting next to you, leans closer to you. “What about you?” she asks.
You cock an eyebrow. “What?”
“You and Jungkook are planning to have any kids?”
The question makes your heart race. Years ago, you would have said no. Even last year, when you’d reconnected, you hadn’t been sure if kids were in your future. But the more time you spend with Jungkook, loving him, the more you realize that maybe it’s a future that would feel right for the both of you.
Because if there’s someone you would want to raise a kid with, it would have to be Jungkook.
“I’m not sure,” you truthfully reply. “Maybe one day?”
Jiho smiles, knowing what you mean. She’s been your closest friend all your life after all, and she already knows the ways of your brain. “You would be brilliant parents,” she tells you, her eyes shining with tears.
“I don’t know about that, but I would definitely do my best.”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “The way you parent Lisa and Charles for me and Hobi sometimes tells me you’d be the best parents.”
“Stop,” you say, echoing her laugh as you shake your head. “We’ll see.”
“We sure will.”
After that, the conversation returns to a shared one around the table, one you gladly participate in. It’s not too long before you decide to hit the streets, heading to the club Somi chose for the evening. It’s one where you went twice with her before, though tonight you have access to the VIP section.
And so you drink and dance with your friends, careless, as if you’re back to your college days. As if none of you are adults with responsibilities, as if you can just live with no consequences. It feels liberating, yet you find yourself in a quiet corner in the early hours of the morning, seeking the man that you love.
[1:27 am] You: miss u
You’re not quite surprised when Jungkook replies almost right away.
[1:28 am] baby <3: miss u too [1:28 am] baby <3: how’s the party
You smile, heart warming up with your love for him.
[1:28 am] You: it’d be better with u here [1:29 am] baby <3: soon
And though it might just be a text sent in the early hours of the morning, you know that it’s a promise. A promise that you will soon be together again, never to be separated.
Saturday, July 7th 
Jungkook looks out the window of the car, heartbeat racing like it’s seeking to win a Formula 1 Grand Prix. He doubts he’ll win - it rather feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest.
He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. Hell, you’re already married, and he just can’t wait to see you again. Though it might be the fact that he’s been lying to everyone, and he hates lying.
He reckons Jimin is onto him. The moment they hugged for the first time, Jimin narrowed his gaze, tilting his head to the side as if to say ‘Something’s changed about you’. Jungkook wanted to admit everything, to reveal that you are already married, but he held on strong.
He’s excited to get to the reception hall and to say the truth. Mostly, he’s excited to have you close again, and he knows he’ll never be without you again. Especially considering how much of a mess he is after just a single day.
He’s yet to call you wife. He’s been trying to figure out a way to do it, something for just the two of you. Because it’s always been about the two of you anyway - ever since the very first day, ever since that dance under the night sky. Eight years ago to the day, Jungkook fell so deep in love, and every day he’s been falling more. And he knows he’ll keep on falling - it’s the most beautiful thing in life. His love for you, yes, but the act of it being shared by your pure heart.
You’ll have so much fun together.
Taehyung parks the car in the parking lot of the reception hall, shooting a look at Jungkook over his shoulder. Jungkook offers him a tight-lipped smile, and Taehyung nods once. 
“Ready?” he asks.
“Definitely,” Jungkook says, smile softening.
Taehyung nods again, before turning back around to turn off the wipers and then the engine. The sound of the rain on the roof of the car is deafening, yet Jungkook thinks it’s a beautiful melody. 
It allowed him to marry you yesterday after all.
Lance gets out of the car, carrying an umbrella around so that Jungkook won’t get wet. He wants to say it’s useless - you saw him already - but he refrains, instead thanking his friend as he gets out of the car, safe from the storm. 
The car with Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi and Mingyu arrives behind them, and they all quickly make their way inside, shaking off the water. The families are already here, and Jungkook watches as everyone mingles, bright smiles on their lips. Bridget and Heather come to see him, and he smiles widely as the couple stops in front of him.
“Excited?” Bridget asks.
His smile turns into a smirk. “More than ever. Especially for tonight.”
Heather rolls her eyes as Bridget wiggles her eyebrows, and then Jungkook’s father jogs to him, grabbing his arm.
“It’s time,” the older man says.
Jungkook feels a lump forming in his throat, as if it isn’t already done. As if you aren’t already united by the vows of marriage, until death does you apart. Yet, he still nods goodbye to his friends, and then follows his father to the little dais where the DJ will be playing later tonight. 
People turn to look at him curiously, probably expecting him to go out of the room for the wedding processional. Instead, Jungkook grabs a mic, scraping his throat before bringing it closer to his mouth.
“Hey everyone,” he greets the crowd, and silence slowly falls on the room. “Thank you for coming today. It means a lot to me and Y/n, more than you can imagine.”
And then you walk out of the room where you were hiding with Jiho, Heather and Somi, and people gasp at the sight of you.
“The only thing is,” Jungkook continues, and he offers you his hand to hold. The moment your fingers touch he feels rejuvenated, like maybe he was just born this instant. And you look fabulous - did you get more beautiful in the day apart? “The only thing is,” Jungkook restarts. “We already got married.”
Wide gazes and shocked gasps now fill the room, and Jungkook hands you the mic, even as Jiho takes a step towards you, as if to stop you.
“We’d always dreamed to get married outside,” you say, and you motion to the rain splattering on the window panes. “Unfortunately, the weather was working against us. So we got married yesterday, with only our close family present.”
You meet Jungkook’s gaze, offering him a teary-eyed smile. He’s surprised to see the tears in your gaze, as if not expecting them, but they quickly make his gaze wet as well, and he chuckles softly, his heart feeling like he’s been embraced by all the love in the universe.
The world slows around you. Jungkook feels like he’s falling through the years, through the past, through every hurdle that stood in your path. All of them were worth it. So fucking worth it - he wouldn’t be standing next to you right now without them.
Your smile softens, if that is even possible. Eyes so full of love he thinks he’ll combust, like a firework exploding in colours and beauty. Because you’ve always brought out the best of him.
“So we did want to apologize to all of you who traveled all the way from the States,” you continue, and you look away from Jungkook.
He steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to press you against him. You easily melt in his touch, leaning your head on him.
“But we also wanted to thank you for coming, and we hope that tonight’s party is going to still be worth it.”
On that note, Jungkook gets the rings in his pocket, as you give the mic to a stunned Jiho. You face him again, and like yesterday, Jungkook gently puts your ring on your finger. It’s delicate, beautiful - everything that you are as well. His is simpler, yet still just as elegant, and its weight is a comfortable reminder of your love the second it’s on his finger.
Looking in your eyes, Jungkook wonders if he deserves your love. It’s a weird question to ask himself in the moment, and he knows he does. Or at least he’ll always work to make sure he deserves it, and he’ll offer you everything in his heart and soul. Because you’re the love of his life - he knew from the moment he met you.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Jungkook gently grabs your cheeks, the crowd slowly fading away. It’s like you’re alone in the universe, just you and him. In a world that is just yours - maybe that forgotten space where you’d first met. It’s a world of simple love, eternal. And in that world, Jungkook gently leans in, pressing his lips on yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the universe.
And he does. He does now.
Cheering brings him back to reality, and Jungkook pulls away, laughing along with you as you grab his hand, facing your friends and family. They are cheering and clapping, bright smiles welcoming you back to reality. You bow to them in tandem, and then Jungkook leads you down the dais so that you can receive the congratulations from everyone.
And though it might be a little exhausting, Jungkook knows that all of his burdens will now be shared with you. So with a heart lighter than the wind, Jungkook follows you around the room, and he follows you to your shared future.
*****
The reception has been fun. The food was perfect, the cake just as tasty, and to be surrounded with the people you love has been a dream. A beautiful dream - one you’ll forever spend with the love of your life.
Jungkook leads you to the dancefloor for the first dance. A dance for just the two of you, shared with your friends and family. The first of so many other dances, yet it’s hardly the first. You stop in front of him, and he puts one hand on your waist, the other gently closing around your fingers. You put your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. 
Before you even start dancing, Jungkook whispers, “Do you want to dance with me?” and your eyes fill with tears as a sob racks through you.
“Yes,” you whisper back. “Always.”
He smiles, a tear rolling on his cheek, and then the music starts. It’s a soft song, a gentle love song, by an artist you both came to love through the years. It’s one you’ve danced to a thousand times before, yet today it feels different. It feels like that July night eight years ago - the cataclysm of you and him, relived.
So you dance with him, eyes lost in the shine of his gaze, in the pure love it holds. You dance and dance, remembering the years. Remembering finding him again after his accident. Remembering the hate you’d arbored for him, that had always been love disguised. Remembering falling in love, yet pushing him away. Remembering Laura, and the day Jungkook had chosen you over her. Remembering Chicago, the dance crew, the parties you spent too busy getting lost in each other to partake in the reveling.
You remember everything - moving into your new apartment, him later moving in with you. Loving each other - the day Lisa was born, and Jungkook had held her with so many stars in his eyes you believed he’d turn into a galaxy. You remember the cottage, the camping trips, the long distance. The dreaded long distance - who would have thought it was leading you to this moment in time? You remember Harrison, remember falling back into Jungkook’s arms - the hotel balcony on Taehyung and Jo’s wedding. You remember everything, all at once - the day he proposed.
And the day he married you. The most important day of your life, forever.
As the dance slowly comes to an end, Jungkook kisses you again. Telling you that he, too, remembers everything. That it was all supposed to happen the way that it did, if only to lead you to the right place for you. On the other side of the world, together.
Always together.
After that first dance, everyone joins you on the dancefloor. Love in their hearts, your friends and family dance. Laughter and smiles and teary eyes reign on the world tonight, and you take it all in. Take all the love in, and redirect it to Jungkook. 
So you kiss him, right there on the dance floor. You kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. And he kisses you back, his arms snaking around your waist. You wonder if he can hear the wild beats of your heart - is his heart beating just as wildly?
You know it is. Because the love between you and him will forever be shared - it’s the kind people write poems about. And you feel like a poet tonight, like you’re experiencing the most beautiful moment of your life. Something you’ll always look back on with fondness and love and nostalgia. 
When you’ll be old and grey and death will take you in its hold, you know today will be the movie in your mind, the moment you’ll relive before you go.
But for now, you need to experience it. To party with your friends, to enjoy this moment where you and Jungkook are celebrated. So you do. Even as Jiho scolds you for not telling her, even as your father makes a speech that ends up making everyone cry. You think you’re on top of a mountain, breathing in the fresh air, making you feel younger than you’ve ever been. New, untainted by the horrors of the world.
It’s just you and Jungkook tonight, and love. Love and love and love, as he leads you outside to get fresh air after the first hour of partying. If his leg is hurting him, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he leads you away from the light of the building, walking around the ponds left from the rain earlier.
It relented. It relented to let you see the moon and the stars, though clouds drift above, hiding most of the blanket of constellations that means so much to the two of you.
“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asks as he pulls your back flush to his chest, and you both tilt your heads back to look up to the night sky.
“Infinite,” you reply. “I feel like I love you even more than before.”
He kisses the top of your head. “So do I. Forever.”
“Forever,” you echo.
Because the end won’t ever come for you and him. Even in death, you know your soul will dance with his.
“Dance with me,” you tell him.
It’s a remix of your usual question, yet the answer doesn’t change. Jungkook turns you around, yet keeps you close to him, swaying you to the soft night breeze. He leans his forehead against yours, and you breathe in the same air as you dance gently, slowly.
“We’re married,” Jungkook murmurs.
“We are.”
“I love you so much,” he adds, his voice trembling with emotion.
Yours isn’t much better as you reply, “I love you so much too.”
*****
Jimin walks outside, needing fresh air. He stops in his tracks when he notices you and Jungkook, dancing the night away. He smiles - if only he’d be able to find love like that one day.
Though his heart aches, never fully healed from what happened with Scottie, Jimin is happy for the two of you. Happy that, through the hurdles, you and Jungkook made it.
You give him hope, more than he’d dare admit. 
He looks at you for a few more seconds, before turning around to walk back inside. He startles at the sight of the pretty girl behind him, and he stops right before he was to run into her.
Somi. Right. The friend you told him about. And though Jimin is usually charming, flirty, all he can do when he looks down at the girl is shyly smile, cheeks burning.
“They’re adorable,” she says in Korean, looking behind him.
Jimin glances at you once more. “They really are. I can only hope to find love like that someday.”
He meets Somi’s gaze again, scolding himself for saying such a vulnerable thing to a stranger. Yet, her eyes twinkle with understanding, and she motions to the side.
“Do you want to walk with me?”
Jimin feels his throat go dry, yet he nods. “Sure.”
“It’s just…” she trails off. “I think we’re the only single people here,” she explains, as if she needed to. 
Or as if he didn’t sound so sure.
“Even if we weren’t, I’d still walk with you,” Jimin says, voice low, finding some of his old charming self back.
It works. Damn it it works, and Somi takes it in stride, a gentle smile moving on her red-tinted lips. “Good. Because you’re the only one I’d want to walk with.”
He laughs, a clear laugh he hasn’t laughed in years. And then they walk with easy conversation, and Somi reveals more of her past. More of how she became friends with you, how she always wanted to meet everyone. To meet Jimin, she adds, a shy smile on her lips.
They walk to a small river, though the current is rushing from the rainstorm earlier. Yet the night takes the edge off the rush, making it seem like the most idyllic scene Jimin could have conjured up.
Or maybe that’s Somi and her soft smiles. Her big eyes shining brightly whenever she meets his gaze. He feels like he never truly breathed before this moment - like the night air is the most refreshing, rejuvenating. 
It helps that the conversation is so easy. That Somi doesn’t know about Scottie, unlike the friend group. Unlike everyone, who’s always treated Jimin differently after the breakup. Somi doesn’t - she teases him, smiles with him, and when they walk back to the reception hall when Jimin notices her shivering, even though he’s given her his jacket, she dances with him.
Jimin feels new, raw. He laughs with her, smiles with her, and butterflies slowly come to life in his stomach. His heart feels warmer than it’s felt in years - Somi is healing him. Damn him, she’s healing him in ways he doesn’t comprehend, and he barely knows her yet.
But when the end of the night comes, and he presses a gentle kiss on her lips that she immediately reciprocates, Jimin knows he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to get to know her better.
So he lets Scottie go, and welcomes Somi in.
*****
“After you,” Jungkook says, opening the door of the hotel room you’ve rented for tonight.
Bam is being babysat with your father for the night, which you think is a relief. You’ll definitely be too busy to take care of a dog tonight.
You walk into the room, taking in the flower petals and the candles that were lit by the hotel staff before your return. The atmosphere is light, romantic - a dream come true after all the years of you and him. You spin on yourself, your wedding dress fluttering around you.
Jungkook has closed the door behind him, and he’s leaning against it, watching you twirl with a smile on his lips. When you stop to look at him, his smile slowly turns into a smirk, and he tilts his head to the side.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” he murmurs with a husky voice. 
He slowly takes off his tie, and you patiently survey him, warmth spreading through you. Once the tie is off, Jungkook steps towards you, putting it around your neck. 
He tugs on it, and you stumble forward in his embrace. He was ready to catch you - he crashes his mouth on yours, and you immediately kiss him back, fire blazing in your soul. Jungkook backs you towards the bed, sucking on your lower lip. 
“Kook,” you breathe against his soft pink lips, and then he pushes you on the bed.
He towers over you, slowly shrugging off his blazer. He throws it towards the couch in one corner, and the flames of the candles flicker from the rush of air. Next is his dress shirt - he slowly unbuttons it, revealing more of his perfect, honey skin as he goes down. 
You watch him, hungrily. Follow every movement of his fingers, imagining how they will soon feel on you. And when he’s done unbuttoning his shirt, you open it for him, caressing his abs with the tip of your fingers. Goosebumps trail in the wake of your fingers, and Jungkook sucks in a breath as you graze his scar.
The soft, flickering light of the candles lessen the harsh edges of the scar that disappears in his pants. You follow down the line until you reach the band of his pants, and then you lean forward to press a soft kiss on the spot.
“So beautiful,” you praise. “My husband.”
He grabs your face, forcing you to look up as he bends down to kiss you. It’s a gentle kiss, yet it quickly turns languid, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You meet it with your own, drinking him in, getting drunk on his taste. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks, lovingly, never-ending.
Because love will never end between you and him. 
Your hands find his dainty waist, his skin warm against your palms. He shudders as you move up his flanks, and then you pull him down, moving back on the bed. Your lips never disconnect - like two adjacent puzzle pieces that have finally been joined. So Jungkook lies on top of you, the lapels of his dress shirt tickling your arms. You try to take it off him, but it’s unsuccessful. Until he kneels to help, and soon, your eyes fall to his perked brown nipples. 
You pinch them playfully as Jungkook just watches you with his gaze full of swirling emotions, love on the surface of it all. You swim in his gaze, getting lost in him.
“I’m your husband,” he breathes.
You nod, eyes filling with unsuspected tears. “You are.”
“I’m so fucking lucky.” 
And then he’s bending down again, stealing a searing kiss on your lips. You moan in his mouth, and he swallows it like he always does, with a grunt of his own. You run your hands on his back, up to his hair, and you tug at the soft strands on the back of his head. 
He groans a little louder this time and then pulls away from the kiss. His gaze is dark, with desire and passion and love and everything that makes him the person that you want and will spend the rest of your life with. 
“How do I get you out of this dress?” he asks as one of his hands runs up and down your arm. 
You sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’d have to be standing.”
He pouts, yet he gets up, gently grabbing your small hands in his large ones so that he can help you up. Once you’re standing, he pecks your nose once, turning you around when he’s done. He brushes your hair over one shoulder before bending down to kiss the skin on the side of your neck.
“It’s a shame that I have to take it off,” he breathes right in your ear, and you shiver. “But I want to see all of you while I’m making you mine tonight.”
“I’m already yours,” you reply, breath hitching in your throat as he sucks on your skin.
“Oh, I know.” He kisses your neck again and then pulls away.
It takes him a few seconds to figure out how to get you out of your dress, but he soon finds the zipper. He slowly pulls it down, and you feel his gaze burning on every inch of skin revealed. When he’s done unzipping, Jungkook pushes the dress off down your arms, and it slowly falls to the floor, pooling around your ankles.
“You weren’t wearing any underwear?” Jungkook asks, sounding out of breath.
You step out of the dress, turning to look at him innocently. “I wasn’t. Should I have?”
You can tell it takes everything in him not to jump on you. Instead, he pulls you by his tie again - you forgot it was around your neck. When you step closer to him, he lets it go, and it falls between your breasts. You look down at yourself right as Jungkook pinches your nipples, and they perk under his fingers.
“So, so beautiful,” he praises again, and he bends down to suck on one of your nipples. 
Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a breathy sound as he cups your other breast, palming it softly. You lose your hands in his hair again, tugging gently to bring his mouth back to yours. You suck on his tongue the moment he pushes it in your mouth, and Jungkook grunts, especially as one of your hands falls in the space between you, palming his dick through his pants.
He’s already hard, sitting heavy in your hand, and you moan as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes out. “I’m so horny. I feel like I won’t last long.”
With a devilish smirk, you drop to your knees. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “We can fuck all night long.”
You bite at his dick through the fabric, and he curses under his breath. Yet he doesn’t do anything, just watches you as you work on his belt. When it comes undone, you unbutton his pants, holding his half-lidded gaze. 
“So you want me to come in your mouth first, mmh?” he asks. “You want to swallow every last drop?”
You unzip the pants, pushing it down his legs. “You’d like that?”
“Baby, I’d love it.”
You look down at his dick, straining against his boxers. You peck his length, before smiling up at him. “I love you.”
And then you push his boxers down as well, immediately taking the tip of his cock in your mouth.
“I love-” he moans, “you too.”
You suck on his tip before pulling away so that you can jerk him off. “So fuck my mouth, Kook. Come down my throat.”
His chest rapidly goes up and down from his quick breaths, and Jungkook nods. “Alright. Open up your throat for me, baby.”
You do, mouth falling open as you push your tongue out. You let go of his dick so that he can hold it instead, and he taps it twice on your tongue, a string of saliva connecting his slit to your mouth. It’s hot, sinful, yet all you focus on are his pretty eyes as they narrow, almost as if he’s in pain, or maybe angry. His brows are bunched together, and you know he’s about to ruin you.
You want him to ruin you. You want him to ruin you every single day of the rest of your life.
Getting tired of teasing, Jungkook pushes his dick in your mouth. You take him in, relaxing your throat as he pushes as far back as you can take him. You keep the gag reflex in, and Jungkook sighs as he slowly pulls out, pushing in once more just a second later. He lets go of his dick to hold your cheeks instead, thumbs swiping on your skin again.
“You tap my leg if it gets too much, yeah?” he asks.
You moan around him, offering him a thumbs-up. It makes him snort, and he pulls out of your mouth as you start laughing, too.
“I really fucking love you, wow,” he says. “The love of my life.”
You’d get sentimental if he didn’t push his dick in your mouth again. Instead, you moan softly, and Jungkook grunts in approval.
And then he unleashes himself. You hold on to his powerful thighs, appreciating the way his muscles shift under his skin, the way the jagged edges of his scar tickle your palm. Jungkook is a grunting and cursing mess over you, though praises of love for you are the most common. You moan for him, relaxing your throat, doing all you can to keep the gag reflex in. Jungkook wipes the tears that slip on your cheeks, always trusting you to stop him if it’s too much.
But it’s not too much. Ever. You want him to ruin you so bad you’ll never be able to say anything other than his name. And he seems like he wants it, too, as he keeps snapping his hips forward in quick, harsh thrusts. His dick is infinitely hard in your mouth, and you swallow around it, though it triggers your gag reflex.
Jungkook pulls out of your mouth, though he immediately starts jerking off. You recognize the signs that he’s about to come, and you quickly wrap your lips around his tip. He throws his head back, and his dick starts twitching, his warm cum spilling on your tongue.
The taste makes you go feral. Makes you take as much of him in as you can, and cum overflows on your chin. But you don’t care - you’re truly feral for him, forever.
Jungkook finishes unloading his load directly in your throat, and he’s shaking by the time you finally pull away, swallowing his cum. The heady taste and scent doesn’t make you gag, and you lick your lips clean as he looks down at you, chest flushed red.
“Fuck,” he curses, and then he chuckles, a smile growing on his lips. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”
You laugh as you get up, wiping your chin. “And I’m the luckiest girl.”
“You sure are,” he says, eyes fondly looking down at you. They quickly darken again, and he motions to the bed. “Now let me return the favour to my beautiful love.”
You feel like rolling your eyes at his cheesiness, yet you only then realize that he hasn’t called you wife once. Somehow, it makes you anxious, yet you’re too drunk on the taste of him to be able to interpret anything. You only obey him, lying on your back. Jungkook kneels next to the bed, and he gently caresses your thighs before pulling you closer. 
He bends down, breathing in the scent of you. “I think,” he starts, and then he pauses to push his tongue inside of you once. “We’ll fuck like animals tonight.”
“Plea-” you start, though the moment he sucks on your clit, it breaks into a moan. “Jungkook…”
He doesn’t reply. He immediately busies himself with lapping you up, with drinking you in. He moans against you, appreciatively, and you lose a hand in his hair again. He’s long dishevelled by now - there’s something terribly hot about it. Because this man is yours - your husband. From now until death does you apart.
He flicks your clit, and you moan out his name the instant he slides a finger inside of you. He curls it, searching for the sweetest spot inside of you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts rubbing on it.
“Kook,” you moan. “Fuck.”
“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, sitting back on his heels just long enough to push another finger inside of you. Scissor motions press against the tightening muscles of your pussy, and you rock your hips towards his face. He tuts. “A little impatient, are we?”
You groan in frustration as he blows on your clit, the sensitive organ flush with blood, hard, just waiting for the next swipe of his tongue so that you can explode. But Jungkook denies it - he kisses the inside of your thighs, tracing hickeys on your soft skin. Then he kisses your pelvis, ghosting on your clit. He licks your lips, red with your arousal. He teases and teases, and you whine.
“Please,” you beg, teary-eyed. “I’m so close.”
He gives in immediately. An expert motion on your clit sends you flying over the edge, and your thighs close around his face as you climax hard. Your voice breaks in a moan, and he just keeps on fingering you. You grind against his face, milking your orgasm from yourself, instinctively. He lets you do it, delighting in your taste, in your juice on his chin.
It takes you so long to come down from the high that you don’t realize he’s not fingering you anymore. That he moved - he disappeared from between your legs. Instead, Jungkook lies on the bed next to you, tracing circles around your navel.
You turn your head, looking at him through your blown-wide pupils. He’s fuzzy, beautiful.
And most of all, he’s your husband.
“Wow,” you let out, and you chuckle as he smiles devilishly. 
“I know,” he replies. “You squirted at the same time.”
You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed, though you doubt there’s anything to be embarrassed about it. Instead, you only repeat, “Wow,” and he laughs with his bunny smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Your husband. This man is your husband now.
“I think you’re right,” you whisper, turning to face him.
He loses the smile, instead looking at you with an inquisitive look on his features, eyebrows raised in question. “About what?”
“We’re going to fuck like animals tonight.”
He bursts out laughing, high and clear, the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen in your life. You join him, and when the laughter subsides, and he rolls over you to kiss you again, you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. He’s over you, caging you, protecting you from the big bad world and from the months last year where you’d broken apart from each other.
You’ll never be separated again.
“We should take a shower,” Jungkook suggests as he pulls away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours once more, just content with breathing shared air. “I won’t be quite ready to go again for a few minutes.”
You whine, playfully pinching his side, which earns you a shriek from him as he rolls away from you. “You’re boring, Jeon.”
He looks at you, wide smile a little frozen, and then he tears up again. “You haven’t called me that since the beginning,” he reminisces. 
“The beginning?” you echo.
He nods. “You know how infuriating it was to see you again for the first time after the accident?”
The mention of his accident makes your eyes drift towards his scars. They’re beautiful on his honey skin, and you mindlessly reach between you to massage the one on his knee.
“You called me Jeon, and you were so pissed to see me,” he remembers, sighing in nostalgia. An emotion you know far too well and that you’re way too happy to dive in with him. “And when you were flirting with Jimin, I could feel my heart sink so deep.”
“Gosh, poor Jimin,” you let out.
Though you both saw him with Somi. You saw the exchanged kiss - the hesitancy, the surprise, and the bright eyes as they’d left separately, yet promised to reach out on the morrow. You’re happy for Jimin and Somi - they both deserve the whole wide world. And though it might be too early to tell, you still cheer for them.
If only because it might bring one of your dearest friends here, and God knows how much you love your friends.
“You think he and Somi will figure shit out?” Jungkook asks, propping his head on his hand. 
He looks pretty like that, candlelight still casting a play of shadow and light on his features. Unable to resist, you reach between you, gently tracing the shape of his face.
“I think both of them deserve happiness,” you answer. “If they can find it in each other, I will be very happy for them.”
Jungkook’s face slowly breaks into the softest smile, and then he leans forward to peck your lips once more. “Though I love Jimin, let’s not dwell on this too long. I still want to fuck you stupid.”
You laugh as he playfully pinches your side before getting up. You look at him from where you’re still lying on the bed - his extended hand offers a promise of forever, and it’s a forever you now know to be your future, your truth.
You smile, wind catching in the sails of your heart, and you grab his hands to allow him to help you up. You use the momentum to press your lips on the pillowy softness of his swollen mouth, and Jungkook is quick to kiss you back, to offer you all of his love on a silver platter.
And he doesn’t stop there. Jungkook keeps on kissing you as he leads you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, only breaking away long enough to adjust the water temperature. He keeps celebrating his love for you in the form of his mouth dancing with yours, and you let him guide you under the warm, soothing water of the shower.
You break away to breathe then, holding each other. Him, with his arms wrapped around your middle. You, leaning back on his chest as you gently trace idle figures on his forearms - love between you is as endless as the water cycle in the bathroom - fog condensing on the mirror, only to go back to its liquid form as it rolls down the glass before evaporating again.
You and Jeon Jungkook are never-ending.
“I love you,” Jungkook breathes when he pulls away to rest his cheek on the top of your head. He gently rocks you from side to side. “I’m so grateful to be married to you.”
“You’re my favourite husband,” you tease, but also test the waters, seeing if he’ll call you wife then.
He doesn’t. Instead, he replies, “I hope you don’t have too many husbands, that’d be upsetting.”
You turn in his arms, the water now spraying your back. “Just you, Kook. There’s always just been you.”
He caves in, brushing his mouth on yours again in the most intimate caress. “What would I do without you?”
You don’t know about him, but you’d wither. You’d wither and fade into darkness, or maybe you’d freeze like the first layer of the ground when the cold hits. You’d stop existing, you’d stop evolving, because he’s the theory of your evolution. He’s your character arc, the reason why you were put on this Earth years ago.
“I want all of you,” you breathe against his lips, and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth.
You welcome it in, hands getting lost in his now wet hair. His own hands hold your hips firmly, pressing you on his slowly growing erection. Before it goes out of control, you pull away, grabbing a bar of soap to wash him.
He almost purrs under your hands as they trace every line and curve of him. Eyes shut, a small smile on his lips that turns into a pout whenever you let go of him. He’s incredibly adorable - the very reason why your heart skips beat nowadays. 
Why your heart ever skipped beats to begin with.
“Let me wash you too,” he murmurs when you’re done, though you haven’t touched his dick yet. 
It now stands proud and tall, pointing towards you, leaking precum as you rub the bar of soap in your hands to get some foam. He watches you as you put the soap down, and you wink up at him.
“I’m not done yet.”
This time he shudders when you grab the base of his dick, gently jerking him off once so that you can clean his shaft. You then move to his balls, and you massage them with the most gentle touch you can muster up, not wanting to trigger his arousal right now.
No, you just want him to enjoy the act of being thoroughly cleaned up, to be taken care of in every way he deserves.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, and you don’t resist when he pulls you in a kiss. When he switches place with you so that he can wash away the soap from his body, you watch the residue of foam going down the drain, awaiting your turn.
Jungkook’s large hands are infinitely soft, infinitely pure - like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Looking up at those big doe eyes you love more than the universe itself, you know Jungkook has, in truth, never done any wrong. How could he when he’s the purest soul you’ve ever come across?
He hums as he cleans you, the song you danced to earlier. Your song, you reckon, and you join in, the lyrics floating in the air surrounding you. Though you’ve never been the singer that he is, Jungkook still cleans you, thoroughly, gently, and when he’s done he puts you under the cascade of water, and you let it wash the soap away.
“You’re a fucking angel,” Jungkook whispers, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. Not remembering when they closed, you let them adjust to the light, but Jungkook is quick to crash his mouth against yours, ravishing a soul-ending kiss on your lips.
When he turns you away from the water, your back to him as his own back is now showered with wet warmth, you immediately bend down. Your arousal hasn’t lessened since the actions that transpired in the bed, and Jungkook runs a finger through your folds once.
“You’re already so wet,” he praises. “My good fucking girl.”
“Like animals, right?”
He doesn’t offer a verbal answer - he answers in the physical, brushing his tip on your folds. It’s quite larger than the tip of his finger, and you shudder as your eyes shut as you brace your hands on the ceramic of the wall. The broad tip brushes past your lips before Jungkook pulls out, resting his dick between your ass cheeks.
“Like animals,” he agrees. “Like that first time I fucked you. In the living room of the cottage.” He pushes all the way in then, and you moan loudly, rocking forward. He grabs your hips, fingers digging in the supple flesh. “I wish someone would have found us there. Would have seen just how fucking hot you are when I’m fucking you.”
And then he’s pounding into you, so hard your cheek ends up pressed against the wall as you cry out your pleasure. Even through the haze that grows in your mind, you think about his leg - you know it doesn’t hurt like at the beginning, but whenever he fucks you like that, you’re afraid he’ll hurt himself.
But he doesn’t let you voice your concern. He’s quick to bend forward until he’s able to wrap your throat in your favourite necklace, tattooed fingers cutting the blood circulation to your brain until you grow so dizzy you struggle to stand.
He lets go of your neck then, but he’s still not done jackhammering his hips into yours. He’s a moaning and grunting mess, and the sinful melody of your name and the curses that tumble from his lips slowly guide you towards a new orgasm. 
Slowly, yet when he pinches your nipple, hard enough to hurt, your climax hits at the speed of light, and your legs give out under you. You’re lucky he’s holding you up, though you shake through every powerful wave, his name the only thing you know.
You don’t think you need to know anything else anyway. There’s just him - there’s always just going to be him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as your walls clench around his dick again and again, though the muscle grows weaker. When your orgasm leaves you empty and spent, Jungkook pulls you up so that he can wrap his arms around you again, and he litters soft kisses on the back of your shoulder and on your neck. “Let’s go back to the bed,” he whispers. “I’m not done with you at all.”
You whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you far too empty for your liking. He steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel that he holds open for you. You follow him out, and he wraps it around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turns around to grab a towel for himself. You quickly dry yourself, and then Jungkook puts the towels on the hooks behind the door.
“Thank you,” you whisper, and he offers you a lovesick smile.
“Of course,” he says. 
He grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bedroom. The candles still flicker like dozens of little ghosts, and though you’ve disturbed some of the rose petals already, they still await you. Uncaring about them, Jungkook brings you back to the bed, and he helps you lay down before joining you, lying next to you. His hand rests flat on your stomach, and you share a timeless look of pure love and adoration.
An eternity with him… When did you get so lucky?
Jungkook must have seen the yearning in your gaze because he climbs back on top of you, his weight a comforting reminder of everything he is to you. Still hard, his dick lays on your pelvis, and you look down at yourselves long enough to watch him align himself with your entrance.
“Look at me,” he asks before he pushes in.
Like a moth to the flame, you’re unable to resist the dive in his eyes that follows. So you dive deep, one hand on his cheek and the other on his waist. And when he pushes all the way in, you whisper your love for him. He stills deep inside of you, and presses one kiss to the side of your face.
“You’re mine,” he breathes, voice heavy with emotion. “My wife.”
The words clang through you repeatedly. Like Echo is screaming them back to you, making sure they are carved into your bones and etched into your soul. You think they have been before, but hearing him say it makes it real, seals the deal until your souls truly unite to be just one. Until your love for him expands, growing bigger than the universe, encompassing everything that once was you and everything that will now be you, plural.
“My husband,” you whisper back.
“I love you.”
He slowly pulls out, and then he softly pushes back in as he rests his forehead against yours. There is so much love between you and him that you feel like you’re drowning in the bliss of him, like you’ll forever be changed by this moment in time.
In truth, you know he’s already forever changed you. And as he makes love to you slowly, languidly, sensually, kissing you long enough to remind you that you made it, that you fucking made it through all the hurdles, you know that you forever changed him, too.
And isn’t that beautiful? The power that one’s soul can have over another’s soul? The stars agree - they’ve always known about you and Jeon Jungkook. Happy, they shine in constellations for the two of you, slowly making place amongst their ranks. Because the astral bodies know one day they’ll welcome you in the night sky you love so deeply - two new stars, once stardust and now burning, for the eternity that is yours.
But first, you have a very long road ahead of you. And though life might take one of you before the other, your commitment to one another is endless - even if one of you shines up above before the other, you’ll always be with each other.
So when you’re finally spent after a night of love making, of promises and forevers whispered into one another’s ear, you listen to his heartbeat. You listen to it, your favourite melody, even before you knew its existence. It’s beautiful, simple - strong and steadfast. Mostly, it is yours.
Before you fall asleep, you offer him one last promise -
“I will always love you, Jeon Jungkook.” 
☆☆☆☆☆
The End. I am crying rereading this, I can't believe I started this fic as a sequel to @daechwitatamic's What Was Hidden fic and now I'm 223.9k words later into a story that will forever hold a special place in my heart. What did you guys think of it? Was the end fitting for our favourite couple?
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate
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cuubism · 2 months
Text
Computation
part 7 of Complex Mathematics
(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)
------------
Wednesday, 3:54am
Hob. what is the wifi password?
3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?
3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.
4:00am: ……….
4:01am: Ah.
4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way
4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat
4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.
4:10am: It does not like the password.
4:12am: alright i’m getting up
Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.
“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.
“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”
“I woke you,” Dream says softly.
“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.
It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”
“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.
He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.
Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.
“What are you doing?” Dream asks.
“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.
~~
Friday, 2:05pm
Hob.
2:06pm: ?
2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.
2:09pm: did you antagonize it?
2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?
2:10pm: I cannot comment.
2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.
2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry
2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?
2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes
2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345
2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…
2:20pm: I do not think it would help.
2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?
2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?
2:35pm: Very well.
For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.
He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.
He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.
Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.
He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.
When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.
“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.
“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”
Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.
Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.
“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  
Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.
“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”
“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.
“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”
Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.
Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”
“Yes,” says Dream.
“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.
Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.
~~
Monday, 5:02pm
Hob.
5:03pm: Wifi?
5:04pm: …Yes.
Thursday, 9:50pm
…..Hob.
9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.
9:51pm: ….
9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.
9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.
9:52pm: That too.
Saturday, 6:00pm
Hob.
6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??
6:01pm: No. I got dinner.
6:02pm: Oh!
6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.
6:03pm: Coming back from class now.
6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.
6:04pm: Aren’t we all.
~~
Thursday, 3:50pm
This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.
He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.
He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…
3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.
3:51pm: FUCK
3:51pm: I got distracted
3:53pm: Now… running
3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.
3:55pm: NOPE
Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.
He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.
Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.
Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.
So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.
By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.
Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.
Thanks love 😘
Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.
Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.
“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”
Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”
“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.
Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”
Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”
Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.
“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.
Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”
Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”
“So?”
Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”
Dream does not understand the relevance.
Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”
Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.
“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”
Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”
Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.
“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”
“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.
Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”
“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”
“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.
Hob just waits expectantly.
Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.
“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.
When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.
“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”
Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”
“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”
He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.
“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.
“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.
Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”
Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.
Wednesday, 6:03pm
Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.
Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.
“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.
Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”
“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.
“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.
“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.
“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.
“How has this not faded yet?”
For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.
Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”
Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”
“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.
Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”
“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.
Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”
“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”
And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.
“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”
“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.
“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”
“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.
“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”
Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.
“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”
“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.
And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.
“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.
“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”
Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.
“Hob,” he complains.
“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.
“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.
Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.
Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.
“Taste good?” Hob asks.
“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.
Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.
He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”
“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”
Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.
232 notes · View notes
echo-lover · 2 months
Text
Why are you watching this, it's for kids. Focus on life, find yourself a partner, have your own family. You are an adult. Grow up.
You don't understand it. This is not just a series...
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This series gives me a chance to feel like a kid again. I find comfort, safety and care in the arms of characters who mean the world to me. I experience each of their moments of sadness, each of their smallest joys, as if they were my own. This is my home, my safe space. I love them with all my heart. Thank you Star-Wars for my beautiful family.
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I love Wrecker because he always managed to put a smile back on my face, even when I was having the worst day ever. His cheerful personality makes it impossible not to like him. Sometimes he is just a child, trapped in a large man's body. Behind all this muscles and enormous strength that can easily hurt you, there is a soft heart made of gold. He can be gentle, soft, even quiet if he has to. He would do absolutely everything for his family. He is also way more intelligent than he might think. The way he takes care of Omega melts my heart every time. Kids love him and he loves kids.
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I love Tech because he can quickly adapt to situations. His voice is so special... I could listen to him for hours and never get tired of his facts about everything he saw and heard on his missions. He showed me that being smart is not something I should be ashamed of. His voice is calming, gives me comfort... I love his little jokes and moments where he was just a little savage in conversations. Even though he processes moments and thoughts differently, he is still able to share his own feelings with Omega. She helped him open up and show the part of himself that he kept closed from the world, even from himself. He loved his family so much that he sacrificed himself for their safety, paying the biggest price. He is worth every tear I shed for him (and there were so many).
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I love Echo because I see a part of myself in him. He has been with me from the very beginning of my journey with Clones, and is one of the most important characters for me. I relate to him for many personal reasons. Even though he has experienced so much evil in his life, he is still able to be gentle, caring and show love to those who were closest to him. I especially love his bond with Omega, they both understand each other through their traumas, and way more. Omega quickly became the most important to Echo, but he couldn't give up on fighting, even for her. He felt that he has to somehow compensate for all the lost years when he was a prisoner on SkakoMinor. His honor, loyalty and courage inspire me every day. And his tenderness and softness touch my soul deeply. I could talk about him for hours and never get bored. I wish I'd be able to give him the biggest and warmest hug, and tell him how important he is to me.
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I love Crosshair because he's the type of character I could easily hate, but I don't. In fact Cross is very close to my heart, I feel sorry for him and I want to help him get back to his old self. He is so much more than what the Empire has done to him. This sniper who never misses, who doesn't have to use his muscles to hurt - words are enough for him - silent, yet sharp. Precise, accurate, always on point. Confident, knowing his skills. Painfully honest, but needing to prove his worth to others at the same time. I know there is this soft side of him, hidden, but it is there for sure. The side that loves his brothers and little sister more than his own life. He need some time to understand that he is worth all the love in the Galaxy and I hope that Omega will help him to realize, that his brothers never really left him. They would take him back, if he just wanted...
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I love Hunter because he makes me feel safe. I can't put it into words, but he's a character that reminds me of home... a loved one that I lost some time ago. He is so much like my dad at some point and his bond with Omega is so special for me. I know he's not perfect, he makes mistakes just like everyone else, but he always wants to do the right thing. He is a leader, not the one that only gives orders, but he is more like the head of the family who protect them - a father. He always puts his family first and is willing to do anything for them. For any of them, including Crosshair. He often doesn't give direct orders, just suggestions. His squad is not just soldiers, but they are his brothers, his closest family. His priorities changed when Omega appeared in his life - a child in need of a family, who trusted him and gave him love that he had never received before. From a soldier, he became a father, who would give everything for his daughter's safety and joy. His relationship with Omega is the most important to me. I loved him from the first moment and I could talk about him for hours, just like about Echo. I will always defend him. No matter what.
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I love Omega because she took the best parts of each of her brothers. She is fearless, brave, strong and ready to defend her family until the very end. She's just a sweet little girl who can't have a normal childhood. She's different, just like her brothers, and she's so proud of it. She is not afraid to show her individuality. But even though she is strong and brave, she is still just a child. She needs love, protection... family... and Bad Batch gave it to her... a home, a safe place, loving brothers... Words cannot describe how important she is to me. Now she has changed so much, she is no longer this little Omega from first season... I think she becomes so much like Hunter.
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262 notes · View notes
Happy Birthday, Norton Campbell
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Rated Mature | None
To the second hunter and survivor I ever wrote since playing IDV (the first was Morningstar!Ithaqua and High Roller!Orpheus) and had tried to go against during his event (he rocked me a lot), this is for you babe!
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Norton Campbell
“You know what they say about Pisces?” You say as lay on top of him wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.
He uncovers his face where he places his arm to look at you. The look of ‘What weird thing did you come up with this time?’ because you are one to say the most outlandish things. He won’t say it but it is often appreciated when his thoughts are not pleasant, “What do they say?” Tired, not of you— Well, he tired because of you and that boundless energy of yours. God, you and Lucky Guy are always ready to go.
“... I don't know.” You forgot or probably had no idea where you were going with that.
“You are lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out.” Covering his face again.
“Out of my own room!? Naked? Wow!” Sitting up causes the sheets to shift and expose your bare chest but the lower half is still covered, “After I gave the best birthday gift too, boo!”
“How do you still have energy?” Mumbling.
“I have to keep up with you, both of you.”
“Agh.” Norton does not want to think about how Fool’s Gold is going to demand a birthday gift too, “Do me a favor and blue ball him.”
“Norton, you won't let me top and you expect me to do denial on him? Hah, no.” Using a modern term for being the dominant one, supposedly. You simplify a lot of your bedroom explanations to him.
“At least, make him work for it.” Moving to lay on his side with his arms wrapped around you.
Fool’s Gold
There is no dressing up for this, he would not appreciate it like his counterpart likes seeing you in lace. Simple lingerie, especially when he can rip it off. No, the hunter likes simply having you on your knees playing your role. He has not forgotten about this, about how it turned him on.
“Bark.” Commanding you. His legs wide open while he sits in the chair made for the hunters.
You are on your knees with your arms up partly as you copy a dog stance while standing, “Arf!” Barking a little too easily, the usual grin on his face widening at the sight of you degrading yourself as his gift. “Woof!” He pulls on the makeshift leash that is his belt.
“Open your mouth for your treat.” His fully formed hand is tugging at your bottom lip, “Tongue out.” Unzipping his pants, unbuttoning it so he has room to pull out that thick reconstructed cock. Pulsing with the purple glow. Tugging you so your breath is hot on his cock. Oh, he likes this sight with his thick nonhuman cock on your tongue weighing heavy.
The way you remain in place waiting for his command, and even better how soon he is going to see tears of pleasure running down that pretty face of yours.
“Go on, suck your treat up.” Norton definitely likes this. You normally would not do this again after the last time he did this with you, but it seems mercy is on his side.
A wish is granted for his birthday.
Soul Catcher
Mortals. All of them from animals to humans, their lives are fleeting, finite, he did not understand why he must assist in preserving these souls. They all will return to the land of the living upon reincarnation, to suffer and struggle. He sits watching a soul that captives him these days, singing a song and often messing up the lyrics, you currently are doing chores. Nothing special about this life or how you live it.
A plain soul, he found the company of such a domestic person a change of pace, a way to see the beauty of life before he claimed it for death. Soon you will follow like all mortal things.
“A celebration of life and another,” You explain, “Though you are not alive, we should still celebrate the contribution you give to all life.” Smiling as you hand him a poncho you created for him. “Death is equally as important as life.”
A birthday, he has no need for such a thing but the gift is given to him, here in this field of cut wheat, the window blowing softly as he stands up and puts on the article of clothing.
“It looks great on you!” Clapping your hands together, “Do you like it?”
“I do.” A quiet one as he often keeps to himself, “Thank you.” He does not have a need for this, yet he does not want to say that nor want you to think him ungrateful. The Soul Catcher touches it fondly as this will be treasured like all the memories he will have of you when the time comes to collect your soul.
Highway Cavalier
“Hiya, speedster.” Waving to him before leaning on the door of his car, “Practicing?”
“No, just checking on the girl before Luca and Demi kick me out for the day.” The engine sounds clear as he revs it and slowly winds it down, “You?”
“Soon, I need to test run the Mach Two before the entry races next week.”
“You've been test-running the damn thing all week.” Shutting the car off, “Join us later.”
“You know I can't, speedster. I gotta do my checks and do my practice laps—”
“Yes, you can because it's my birthday.” He grins, leaning in close towards you.
“What!?” You cover your face, “Oh, my God, Norton, why didn't you tell me?! I could've gotten you a gift or something.”
“I'm mentioning it now and the only gift I want is to see you at the bar getting drinks with us.” Pinching your cheek when you uncover your face to pout, “Maybe a kiss or two for an extra gift too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before laughing when you hit his arm.
“Silly man as if I don't already kiss you enough,” Rolling your eyes playfully.
The Orphan of Goetia
“A mutual gift for both of us to enjoy the desires of the flesh.”
Infernal Sin, King of the Seventy-Two demons of Hell, the Lord of the damned, has gifted him what they both desire. Norton’s heart is the Infernal Sin's heart only with a human host, he feels what the other feels too.
“I am such a benevolent King, aren't I?” A rhetorical
question as he laughs with glee, “Well!? Go on! Indulge.” Here in this bedroom of red lights and sheets of silk, a heavy smell of wine and iron, Norton is unsure if he should even touch you.
There you sit wrapped up with large fabric ribbons presenting you as a gift. The makeup on your face waa done by that worshiper obsessed with the demonic king and him. You look away, gagged with a ball held by leather straps.
“Go on. This is for us.”
You are laid back, the Orphan of Goetia and the Infernal Sin above you, the hands you feel however are only Norton’s. Carefully unwrapping you, freeing you but you remain on the bed. His hands remove the gag, his mouth on yours immediately desperately.
The sensation of a rocky hand sliding up your legs before slipping between them.
The King once told you here you will find heaven or hell, here you can be worshiped or be made to grovel. He will— They will have you one way or another.
“This is…” Norton speaking with laboring breath, “(Name)...” His lips on your skin, your neck to chest, a trail of hickeys following.
“Norton.” Moaned out as the monster enjoyed himself preparing you, “Please, God.” Thick fingers preparing you, it is as if he knows just how to touch you.
“Not God, us. From now on it will only be us.” The demon king says— Promises.
Mining Director
“You can open them.” Saying as the dining room table is covered with gifts sent to him. Perks of being the most desired and envied man in the mining business— With a hand in other businesses and politicians. Norton Campbell made himself the most powerful man both in the public eye and behind the scenes. “Useless junk.”
You sit there unsure what to say or do given his mood today. It is his birthday and though he has a ton of gifts and riches fit for a king, you had hoped he would celebrate with you… Like old times… When you were both two kids trying to make it in the cold world.
“What?” Norton says, he sees you not moving from your spot, his eyes go to the small box in your hand.
“It's nothing.” Putting the box down, turning around ready to leave the room. The boy you loved, that boy has grown up into a materialistic man. You married him because you love him, but you wonder if he loves you… If that boy is still there wanting to play with you like always.
“Wait,�� Grabbing your arm, “Is this for me?” Looking at the poorly made box.
“... No point in asking. It's with the rest of the junk.” Sounding every bit hurt.
Norton curses in Spanish under his breath before pulling you into his arms and squeezing you, “Mi Vida, nothing you give me is junk.”
You hide your face in his chest embarrassed by your feelings of inadequacy, he has the world and you want to show him your love.
“Let me open it.” Opening it while still hugging you, “Hah! You found the old thing!?” Pulling out the old toy model car he would play with as a kid, “Can't believe it. Thought the old man sold it.”
“I found it when visiting the old neighborhood. The pawn shop had it on display and I… I hope you like it, Norton.”
He drops the box to touch the toy, this small piece of the past. When he was a boy, he used to play with this car pretending to be a racer. The grand places he would imagine with you in tow chasing after him.
“Norton?”
His face is buried in the crook of your shoulder, you touch his hand as you feel him trembling against you. 
237 notes · View notes
ghostieyanyan · 3 months
Note
Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.
hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?
~Let the fire purify you~
Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc
Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,
~~~
Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.
How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...
But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...
He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.
With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-
until-
he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.
your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.
~
All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.
to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...
Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.
no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.
~
Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.
when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.
you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.
"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.
"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."
"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"
"w-well.."
It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...
"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."
"hmm.."
Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.
"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"
since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..
"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"
Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"
the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...
"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"
"Earned..?"
Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.
"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."
you start walking to the door but stopped.
"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."
you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.
"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"
you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.
You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.
~
you had so many questions...
why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.
what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..
how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst
you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..
you started to slowly open your eyes..
where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?
you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..
you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?
you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!
if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.
what happened?! what's going on?!?
you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-
"oh my dear! you're awake."
your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.
"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"
with a heavy chest, you spoke.
"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"
"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"
"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."
you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.
"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."
he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.
You did. you don't really have a choice right now..
"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"
you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.
"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."
you stared at him but he kept smiling.
"magicless.. like me..?"
"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."
you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..
magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!
Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.
"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"
"...mon...ster..."
Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.
"excuse me..?"
you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?
"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."
he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.
You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..
the silence was deafening.
Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.
"take. that. back."
"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."
you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.
"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."
he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.
you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.
After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.
"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."
Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.
you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.
Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.
"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"
when he went to grab your face, he-
"MC!!"
those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..
"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
Text
the fifth night
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'hanukkah' (my family is non-practicing, but my great grandfather saltzman very much tried to keep us involved and the dreidel game with chocolate gelt was his way of teaching us something) rated: t wc: 736 tags: non-practicing Jewish Eddie, getting together, first kiss, flirting through the use of chocolate
🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙
Steve hadn't spoken to Miriam in almost ten years, not since his parents had let her go with the excuse that he was old enough to take care of his own needs at the age of 10.
She'd left him her number to call if he needed anything, but as most children do, he lost the piece of paper it was on.
Every year, on the fifth night of Hanukkah, he thought of her and her family, how they'd always made sure he was a part of their celebrations, even if he didn't understand most of them.
"What're you making?" Eddie asked as he walked into the kitchen, hands full of notebooks and folders for Hellfire.
"Latkes. Do you think everyone will want applesauce or sour cream?" Steve said over his shoulder, focused on making sure none of them overcooked. "Maybe I should just get both out. Gareth will probably want ketchup. Dustin, too."
He was met with silence, which was fine, he was used to Eddie distracting himself from conversations before he even got the answer to his original question. It was something he kind of lo-
"You're making latkes."
Steve turned at the tone in his voice, serious, but with the hint of a smile.
Sure enough, Eddie had a small smile on his face.
"Have you had latkes?" Steve asked.
Eddie set his things down on the counter and froze, noticing the mesh bag of chocolate gold coins sitting there.
"Are these for a dreidel game?" Eddie looked up at him.
"I don't have a dreidel anymore, but I figured since it's the fifth night, I could give one to everyone," Steve shrugged.
"I didn't know you celebrated Hanukkah."
"I mean, I don't. Not for religious purposes. But my nanny when I was young taught me about it and always brought her kids over on the fifth night to play," Steve watched as Eddie opened the bag and pulled out a coin. "Have you played?"
"My mom's family celebrated. I didn't really get a chance to do much, but when I was little, she always snuck me extra chocolate coins while the older kids argued about who won or whatever," Eddie smiled sadly. "Wayne tried to teach me, but I was kind of a brat when I first started living with him so I never learned."
Steve walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing reassuringly.
"Never too late to learn. Maybe I can find one tomorrow?"
Eddie's eyes widened.
"Wait, did you say Miriam? Miriam Saltzman?" Eddie stood up straight.
"Um, yeah I think so. Why?"
"My aunt Miriam used to be a nanny!"
Steve's eyes widened.
"My Miriam? She's your aunt?"
Eddie nodded. "Must be." He paused, then tilted his head at Steve. "You're the Steve she always said she wished she could take home with her. She loved you."
Steve felt his face heat up in a blush, and that was before Eddie's hands cupped his cheeks.
"You must've been cute if she loved you so much. She barely liked most of the kids in the family," Eddie smirked. "You're pretty cute now."
Steve's lips parted in shock at Eddie's words.
"Cannot believe you're making latkes for us tonight. And giving us gelt? I knew I loved you for a reason," Eddie continued.
For a brief moment, Steve realized that the latkes in the oil would be burnt by the time he got back to them, but it passed quickly when he saw Eddie's eyes dart down to his lips and back up to his eyes.
"Might even give you two coins if you kiss me," Steve whispered.
"Sounds like a deal to me," Eddie smirked as he leaned in to brush their lips together in one of the softest kisses Steve's ever had.
When they pulled apart, Steve ran back to the stove while Eddie watched him, distracted from setting up the table for D&D.
"So, sour cream or applesauce?" Steve asked.
"Oh, I like both," Eddie responded.
Steve turned back to him, disgusted.
"Not together, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Of course together."
"No more kissing. I take that one back. You're gross," Steve sighed. "Knew it was too good to be true."
"And they say I'm the dramatic one," Eddie rolled his eyes playfully, planting a kiss on Steve's cheek before gathering his things and leaving to set up the table.
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jtl-fics · 1 year
Text
Math Nerd AU
I’ve got quite a few time travel AFTG fics banging around in my head but by far the funniest one is this:
Neil dies in 40s to a drunk driver after a respectable professional Exy career, two olympic golds, a very successful and healthy relationship, a steady post-injury career as Ichirou Moriyama’s preferred accountant (kept himself squeaky clean) and years to get his shit together. He wakes up back early on into his runaway life with his mom and is immediately like “oh no I’m NOT doing this shit again.”
He makes a lot of changes, mostly for Andrew’s benefit but also gets Mary to the Hatfords, and gets himself set up in Ichirou’s confidence again because man he’s gonna play Exy again but Ichirou was actually a very solid boss if you’re competent and Neil is very good at managing finances.
Ichirou had plans for Neil. He’s waiting for his father to pass before he brings Neil fully out in the open as one of his since his father is still demanding that the Wesninski heir be given over to his brother and Ichirou is not about to let the only accountant who has ever gotten him a completely legal tax refund go to the NEST. He’s also not about to let the Butcher near Neil so he puts Neil off in the middle of nowhere with a steady paycheck and orders to graduate highschool. Neil picks Millport.
Hernandez still notices that no one ever comes to Neil’s games and that the kid is driven but doesn’t make any real attachments with his teammates despite Millport becoming the Arizona State Champs the year Neil leads the team. So he sends tapes to Wymack and Kevin. Neil is surprised to see them since he’d planned on never getting anywhere near Andrew after he set things up for the blond. (Killed Drake, paid some people to legally adopt and look after Andrew, got CPS to investigate Tilda properly, paid off the right people so that the couple who took in Andrew took in Aaron too, and paid for them to move out to SC (it’s close to the twins remaining family) and then Tilda managed to die on her own from an OD and the twins got the money without Andrew needing to have any part in it.)
Neil ends up signing for the Foxes despite Ichirou having plans for Neil to start attending University of Texas (Great Accounting Program) in the fall. Neil of course completely fails to tell Ichirou this since Ichirou hadn’t said anything beyond finishing highschool and if he had plans for Neil then he should have told him.
Neil, the utterly self-sufficient adult that he is, proceeds to just be the most bizarre stabilizing force the foxes have ever encountered. He knows all about their shit, their issues, their triggers, and how to help them. The Foxes all kind of crave that stability and Neil can take whatever they say unflinchingly. He’ll give as good as he gets but he also makes team breakfast pretty much every morning after he finishes his absurdly early run. Kevin is in heaven with his Striker pick (Neil in this thing is so incredibly boring and well-adjusted that Andrew just cannot believe that he’s a spy so Kevin and Neil start night practices almost immediately & Neil shows Kevin drills that he and Future!Kevin had made and Kevin is just like “I am so good at picking talent. I am a god.”)
The 3 things that make this so funny (at least to me) is:
1. All the Foxes just like not understanding why the hell Neil is a Fox (They’re glad he’s there but it feels like a clerical error that such a nice well-adjusted guy is on the team) until they see him without a shirt and until immediately after the Kathy Ferdinand show where Ichirou shows up and is like “Palmetto doesn’t even have a nationally ranked accounting program!? Also what if this sport gives you a TBI and you can’t do my taxes anymore????”
2. Andrew is just inexplicably and infuriatingly smitten, enamored, crushing, heart-eyes for this BORING ASS MATH NERD. Neil’s sense of humor was honed against Andrew so he’s got like a direct line to Andrew’s funny bone. He never has never once for even a second confused Aaron and Andrew (and they’re a lot closer in this fic because there’s no Tilda angst and the ‘parents’ handled getting Aaron’s rehabilitation handled off the books so he could have a future in medicine.) Even after the whole mob accountant reveal Andrew is seething because even with that Neil is just incredibly well-adjusted and normal despite all the insane shit going on with him. He propositions Neil when Neil mentions having a past male significant other but Neil has the AUDACITY to get all sad-eyed and say that he can’t be with Andrew because his heart still belongs to some CHUMP in his past. (Cue Current!Andrew having an unknowing bitter hatred / rivalry of Future!Andrew and swearing that he’ll woo Neil away from a guy who’s probably in the mob or shitty because Andrew hasn’t seen any evidence of Neil’s SO reaching out to him but he knows Neil isn’t lying)
3. One of the reasons that Andrew is inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted / smitten to Neil is that Future!Andrew did not really spend a lot of time in the future after Neil died and he’s slowly seeping through until Neil’s confrontation with his dad and then Future!Andrew fully wakes up and he’s PISSED because at least in the original timeline Andrew was inexplicably and infuriatingly attracted to the mysterious freshmen who was hiding his appearance, looked like he was seconds away from running across the country at all times, and had a whole aura of danger around him. Now he’s revealed that he’d have fallen for Neil no matter what because he fell for Neil when he was just a BORING ASS MATH NERD and WORST OF ALL Neil went and made him jealous of HIMSELF because Neil didn’t want to cheat on Andrew with ANDREW. What an asshole. He’s gotta kiss his entire face off and tell him that he’s never allowed to cross a street without Andrew again because if a drunk driver is going to take one of them out then it’s going to take BOTH of them out.
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bullet-prooflove · 4 months
Note
Hiiii! Could u do Tim Bradford with “He want lipstick, lip gloss, hickeys too” plss. Tysm
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On rare nights Tim requires a little more from you. He’s spent his entire life in the service of other people, sometimes he just needs someone to take care of him, to make him feel loved, wanted. You sense that in him this evening, the desire for something more specific. It’s in the expression on his features, his body language. He gets a little soft, a little clingy, like he can’t stand the thought of not touching you.
“Tell me.” You whisper as you straddle his lap. “Tell me what you need tonight.”
He swallows hard as he looks up into your eyes because vulnerability doesn’t come easily to Tim, it never has.
“You’re safe with me.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing along his jaw. “You can ask me for anything.”
“Mark me.” He murmurs against your lips. “Lipstick, love bites I don’t care. I just need to feel like I’m yours.”
You know where this stems from. The two of you were at a bar tonight, Tim had stepped away for a couple of minutes to take a call and come back to find Richards from Robbery Homicide chatting you up. The other man was a star on the rise, you’d just finished up working a case with him…
Tim’s not an insecure man but there was something about the way detective looked at you that just made something in his chest ache. He’d carried it with him on the way back home because sometimes he thinks you should be with someone better than him, someone more charismatic, less surly.
He watches as you reach over to the nightstand and pick up the gold Dior lipstick that you’d placed there this morning. You uncap it, before applying the red pigment carefully over your lips. There’s a sensuality in the gesture and for a moment he’s mesmerised as you purse your lips together and pout.
“Better?” You ask quietly and he nods before tilting his head away from you, baring his throat.
Your lips brush over his pulse point and his breathing hitches, your teeth graze that perfect little spot and his grip on your thighs tightens just a little.
“Harder.” He mutters and the noise he makes when you bite down…
Christ it’s perfect.
You take your time with him, guiding him back amongst the sheets as you leave a trail of red lipstick marks down his body. When you pause to reapply, he whines a little, but you shush him, reassuring him with a light nip to his thigh.
He looks stunning underneath you, all that hard muscle decorated with your marks. Some of them will bruise tomorrow, marring his skin for days in the aftermath and he relishes the idea of wearing the evidence of your love for him underneath his uniform.
The tension ebbs from his muscles and he finds himself relaxing into the mattress. The exhaustion he’s been feeling lately, the burn out that takes it’s toll it starts to float away. When you reach his cock, he’s hard, it’s a physiological reaction to how good you make him feel but the truth is mentally he’d tired. It’s not the sex he craves, it’s the intimacy.
“Not tonight.” He mumbles cupping the side of your face. “I don’t have it in me.”
You understand in that moment it’s not about you, that it’s about him. It’s about feeling a sense of relief without having to give a part of yourself away. You’re the only person who has ever got that part of him, the only one who can truly deliver what he needs.
You kiss your way back up his body and Tim smiles softly, his thumb trailing over the shape of your mouth.
“Thank you.” He whispers and you can see in his eyes that it means the world to him that you aren’t taking something from him tonight.
“Sleep.” You say softly, your lips brushing over his. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”
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turbulentscrawl · 5 months
Text
Identity(V) Headcanons: Frederick Kreiburg
Frederick's headcanons got a little more...medical than some of the others I've done so far. I'm no expert in this stuff, but I do my best to be comprehensible and respectful where certain disorders have to be mentioned. As always, hope you guys like it!
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-Ashes of Memory states that Frederick was diagnosed with ‘psychasthenia’ at some point in his childhood, but this isn’t used as a diagnosis in modern medicine. Instead, it’s a term used to describe a collection of symptoms commonly associated with disorders like OCD. It includes anxiety, obsession, compulsions, depersonalization, nervous ticks, and can even affect one’s memory.
-Personally, I also think he has synesthesia. Frederick mentions colors in relation to music a lot (especially gold), and while this could just be something relating to his other condition, I prefer to take it as literal. It’s part of the reason he was enamored after hearing his father play, why he obsessed with music. Frederick grew up in an onslaught of overwhelming chaos, colors bursting and fading wildly across his senses incomprehensible in his day to day, enhancing his anxiety…but when the recital started there was only the song. One symphony of sound and color, appearing before him in a long, unbroken stream. It was peaceful. And he became obsessed with that peace.
-This also explains his “un-Kreiburg-like skills.” His music is not like what the rest of his family composes because he’s writing it to suit both sound and color. He can perfectly identify pitch and can play most songs entirely “by ear” after hearing them only once or twice, but he’s obsessed with the stream of colors keeping a certain rhythm to them, which doesn’t always lend itself to “traditional” Kreiburg music.
-Frederick’s personality is very affected by the above struggles/disorders. He’s a very kind person at his core, as well as very earnest, but he is plagued by fear, anxiety, and extreme self-criticism. He becomes overwhelmed easily. He is entirely aware of all his struggles, his failures, and wrestles every day with the knowledge that he’s a disappointment to his family. Sometimes his situation brings him to tears, sometimes to destructive wrath.
-Frederick has come to accept his need for appearances, that people mostly like him because of his looks and his familial relations. But on his worst days he can’t even rely on that much because his communication begins to break down. His speech becomes disjointed and frantic, he’s tense and twitchy, a look of horror sinks deep into his face. To protect what remains of his reputation, he hides away during these times.
-When he is with people, he behaves as a gentleman should, albeit a reclusive one. He’s terrified of being judged further, but craves understanding and praise, so he maintains personal distance while remaining remarkably enthusiastic about musical discussion. He’s never told anyone but his family about his diagnosis or his synesthesia. They are both sources of shame for him.
-When at his most anxious, he has a tendency to pull at his hair. Whole clumps of his long hair have been lost to the worst of his fits. He’s not particularly sensitive about any resulting bald spots on his scalp, but he does try to cover them with his normal ponytail style because he knows they would affect people’s attraction to him.
-He despises the sound of dogs barking. Which is a shame, because he does like dogs. Their barking is just burry, red fireworks right in the middle of his vision. It always startles him and makes it impossible to do or focus on anything.
-His love language is Gift Giving, and the “gifts” he gives are, predictably, usually songs. It’s his primary skill, of course, so as far as Frederick is concerned, he has nothing else worth offering besides music made in the name of his loved one. He’d be devastated if these musical gifts weren’t appreciated; Frederick can’t take much more rejection. His favorites Love Languages to receive are Word of Affirmation and Acts of Service. He’s secretly a bit desperate for praise, and any actions you take to support his work or help improve his reputation as a musician are better than gold.
-He likes to match his clothes to the primary colors he sees in the songs he’s performing. During his recitals, he changes coats often.
-He’s a picky eater with a powerful sweet tooth. If he could have it his way, he’d subsist mostly on desserts.
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roseapov · 7 months
Text
Thanks to Havria
Zhongli x GN!Reader
Tw: mentions of obsession, fixation, manipulation, worshipping, killing, mentions of diving powers, manipulation into a marriage
Spoilers to Zhongli's Story Quest Part 1
Povtober 2023, Day 9 [Masterlist]
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For the first time, you met under the moonlight. The moon was in full set, giving you much needed light. You tried solving puzzles to Havria's domain, as her follower. Follower of the Goddess of salt, that you admired more than anything.
With your lack of knowledge on the real story of Havria's death, you blamed it all onto Morax, the Geo Archon.
When the man caught you red-handed while you were messing with mechanisms blocking your way to your Goddesses hideout. His gaze made you tremble, not knowing why, reminded you of the god people of this land worshipped and you loathed, the thought of him making you shiver with dread.
You couldn't move, your body like in paralysis. The only thing you could do was to stare at this mysterious man in expensive brown attire and seconds after you blacked out.
When you woke up you found yourself laying on the bed in the Bubu Pharmacy. How did you know? You were a common guest here cause of your concern for the doctor Baizhu health.
What you saw after a few seconds was the same man from the last time, sitting at your bedside and staring at you. His gaze was so stern, so intense, you felt like he could see right through you.
What made you confused is the fact, that after you blinked he looked completely.. normal? He didn't had this heated gaze, and his aura became less suffocating.
The brunett introduced himself as Zhongli, and asked you to introduce yourself even though he knew it all already. Against your better judgement you did given him your name, only to later regret dearly this course of action, cursing your past self.
His eyes gleamed with an gold glow, but you shrugged it off as you being tired another grave mistake.
He offered to make a contract, he would take care of you, which left you puzzled. Why would he want to take care of you? He don't know you, right? You disagreed to it immediately. Poor you, completely unaware of the ace he had in his sleeve.
'Let me take care of you as my spouse, in exchange, I'm going to tell you all I know about your Goddess, Havria.'
He said the words 'your Goddess' with a bit of a spite, yet you were in such a euphoria that you haven't seen a thing, another huge mistake.
Havria? Your Goddess? He knows something about her?! But how? Her history is lost to time! How can he know something about it? And also, being his spouse? That decision should take time, but the informations you could get from it! Besides his taking care of you surely won't will last forever, right?
After you signed his contract, excited to hear the news about your deity the only thing you heard was:
'I haven't killed Havria, you're gonna understand the meaning of these words soon. You will know the rest of the story when the time comes'
That was dissapointing. He? Killed Havria? But how? Isn't he in his 30's at best? Why would he suggest such a thing? Is there more to the story than you imagined? Is it all he's gonna say to you? When the time comes? But that can take forever! And why is he leaning towards you? He.. he kissed your cheek? You completely forgot you will have to be his spouse!
Maybe having a follower of Morax as your husband wouldn't be so bad? After all he did make a contract with you, so surely he will be loyal to these conditions, right? And surely he will let you go afterwards, you just need to wait for 'when the time comes' and then you'll leave him. Sounds easy, right?
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If I made some grammar or language mistakes, I apologize. I'm going to correct them all when im gonna be on the actual days in Povtober or after Povtober
~roseapov
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doctorstethoscope · 8 months
Text
You Are In Love || Aaron Hotchner x Reader
hiiiii friends <333 just wanted to write a little somethin'-somethin' in honor of 1989 TV, hope you all enjoy and everyone say thank you @hotchs-bitch for beta-ing
contains: minor angst, food consumption, reader wears a dress
word count: 4.6k
It’s late, you realize in the middle of your third yawn in as many minutes. You should be back in your tiny, musty hotel room, trying to get a few hours of sleep before your investigation kicks back off in earnest in the morning. You’re in the middle of some desert town in Arizona, where nothing like this string of murders has ever happened before; you’re determined to get to the bottom of it. 
Hotch is too, and that’s a big part of the reason you’re still here, you’re not too proud to admit. 
“Go ahead back to the hotel,” He’d told you a few hours earlier. “You can hitch a ride with Reid and Prentiss.”
“I could go,” you said, a playful lilt in your tone you could only let out when the two of you were alone. “But then who would make sure you ever went to sleep tonight?” You asked cheekily. You and Hotch were still a relatively new thing, only about four months into seeing each other. But given how well you already knew each other and how much time the two of you spent together, it felt like much longer. 
You’re adjusting into your seat, preparing to read over your case summary one more time when all of the overhead lights in the precinct go out, leaving you and Aaron in the dim glow of the emergency lights from the floor. You reach out for his hand instinctively, and he takes it in yours, looking over at you as he gives it a reassuring squeeze. He shifts into Agent Mode almost simultaneously, scanning the room for danger even as he looks to calm you.  He’s relieved from duty a few moments later when Chief Morrison, who you’d met earlier in the day, enters the room and flicks the switch. 
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says. “We don’t usually have the buildings fully staffed this late into the night and the lights are on a timer.” 
“That’s not a problem,” Hotch answers easily, his hand subtly unlinking itself from yours. “We were just leaving. We’ll be back in a few hours.” 
“Don’t you ever sleep?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrows. 
“We make do with very little when something this serious is at stake,” Aaron explains. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
Chief Morrison leaves the two of you to pack up your things, and Aaron leads you out the door of the precinct with a comforting hand placed to your back. 
********
“Do you ever think about our first date?” You ask Aaron in the confines of his office one night as the two of you are preparing to go home.
Aaron’s brow furrows, not entirely understanding your question. “I mean, sure, I think about it occasionally, and about all the dates after, and how much I enjoy all of the time we spend together. Why do you ask?” 
“I just… it feels silly to admit it now, but I was so nervous, I feel like I almost hardly remember it. Like time was moving so quickly that I didn’t have time to commit it all to memory, and I wish that I had,” you tell him as you extricate yourself from the couch in his office and meet him in the doorway.
“D’you want me to perform a cognitive interview?” he jokes as he helps you into your winter coat, smoothing the wool over your back and then fastening the buttons for you. You could do it yourself, you both know this, but he’s tactile, and his touch is so tender and so warm that you could never push his hands away when he cares for you like this.
“No, I think that’s one line that you and I shouldn’t cross,” you tease him as he checks to make sure the coast is clear before the two of you walk out to your car. 
“You wore a very beautiful castleton green silk dress, and gold sandals. We split a bottle of wine at Le Clou. You laughed charitably at a stupid joke I made, and I made it my life’s goal to hear that sound as often as possible. I could barely finish my dinner because I didn’t want to stop looking at you. We took a walk after dinner, and we talked about everything and nothing at all, and after I drove you home, I walked you to your door and kissed you goodnight. It was a perfect evening,” he refreshes your memory as you walk through the parking garage. 
“Sounds like it,” you smile up at him shyly. 
He smiles back down at you. “We’re just getting started,” he whispers into your temple before dropping a kiss there to punctuate his sentence.
********
“Did you like boarding school?” You ask Hotch as he speeds down the freeway in Ohio. 
“What?” He asks, a little bewildered. 
“You went to boarding school, right? For a couple years in high school?” 
“Yes, I did. That’s not the source of my confusion,” he shakes his head. “We’re trying to find an arsonist and you want to know how I felt about boarding school?” 
“We’re an hour into this drive, still have an hour in front of us, and the radio sucks in Ohio,” you groan. “Indulge me.” 
“Did you like high school?” He asks, as if that’s an answer. 
“I mean, I didn’t hate high school,” you shrug.
Morgan calls with a new lead, interrupting your conversation, and you shoot him a glance over the center console, one that says this conversation isn’t finished, even though you had to put it aside to work for a few hours.. 
You end up separating once you reach Morgan– Hotch goes to investigate the lead and you head back to the site of the most recent burn to see if you can lose anything. The next time you see him, the two of you are preparing for a late-night stakeout at what you suspect will be the unsub’s next location. 
“We’re locked in with eyes on the back door,” Hotch mutters into a police radio as you settle into the passenger seat. It’s set to be a long night.
“Hold on,” Hotch says to you as he twists in his seat, reaching for something in the back. “I brought coffee,” he says, producing a thermos and a couple of cups. He pours one for you and you drink it gratefully as he makes his own cup. It’s good– too good, almost.
“Did you put my creamer in here?” You ask. 
“They had some at the station, I asked if it was okay if I used it,” he explains. 
“You drink black coffee, Aaron Hotchner. It’s a known law of the universe. The sun rises from the East. The tide comes in with the moon. Aaron Christopher Hotchner drinks black coffee.” 
He shrugs. “I’m not that picky, really.” 
You roll your eyes. “You’re too good to me,” you say, leaning back into your seat as you take another sip of your coffee. You’re fiddling with your necklace, watching the street lights reflect off of it and make patterns on the ceiling of the car when he speaks up again.
“I didn’t really like boarding school at the time, but I think it was good for me.” He answers your question from about 12 hours earlier. 
“Tell me about it,” you smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze. 
********
You’re sitting in Aaron’s bed reading a book when it hits you for the first time. He emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, steam billowing from the open door to the en suite. You’re trying to be subtle but you can’t help but sneak a peek as he rifles through his dresser drawers for some suitable pajamas— not that you’d mind at all if he forewent them entirely. He tosses his clothes on the bed and changes quickly, and while you resist the urge to stare, you can feel his eyes on you. He comes to your side of the bed and leans over you. 
“Look up,” he instructs gently, and you comply. He brings one gentle finger to brush over the skin just underneath your eye, concentrating with all of the attention of a man who regularly holds people’s lives in his hands as a part of his job. “Eyelash,” he explains, showing you the culprit so you could blow it away. You look at him as you do so, his face so full of something that is equal parts content and exuberantly joyful that the thought comes to you before you can stop it, loud and consuming in the silence of your bedroom.
“I think I might really love this guy.” 
********
You wake up first the next morning, which is entirely unlike you. Your stomach grumbles loudly a few moments later, giving you a clue as to why you’re up so early. You slip out of bed as silently as you can, grabbing Aaron’s discarded button down from yesterday to throw over your shoulders as you pad down to the kitchen.
You may have gotten a little too ambitious with breakfast, you realize as you smell the toast burning. At least the bacon and pancakes are unharmed, you think as you turn towards the toaster, jumping a little when you see Aaron there.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” you say as he plucks the crisp toast out of the toaster. 
“I can be pretty sneaky when I have to be,” he teases you with a little smile before giving you a quick peck on the lips. 
“You don’t have to eat that, there’s pancakes,” you tell him as he reaches for the butter. 
“I don’t mind it,” he shrugs. “Did you start coffee?” 
You shake your head. “It’s better when you make it.” 
 He smirks at you, tapping at your hip to silently ask you to move so he can get to the coffee pot and start it. “Did you still want to go to the National Portrait Gallery this weekend?” He asks as the two of you sit down at the table.
“I do, but I know it’s not your thing. I don’t mind if—”
“I want to go with you. I told you I’d come,” he reminds you.
“I know, I just didn’t want you to think I was holding you to it,” you say, a little foolishly, knowing that there’s no one out there who makes Aaron Hotchner do something he truly doesn’t want to do.
“I’m a man of my word,” he reminds you, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “It doesn’t have to be ‘my thing,’” he insists. “It’s important to me because it’s important to you.” 
He keeps a hand on you the whole time you walk through the gallery– whether it's on your hip, around your waist, or entwined with your own. He’s certainly not the first man to hold you, but it feels… different, when it’s him. Like you’re being treasured, rather than possessed. Like you’re a partner, not an accessory. It feels nice.
“We’ve got a good thing going, you and I. Don’t you think?” You ask him as the two of you leave the gallery. 
“I’d certainly say so,” he smiles. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“It’s been a really, really lovely five months,” you tell him.
“It feels like there’s a but coming,” he says, a twinge of anxiety in his tone. 
“Not so much a but…” you try to assure him. “I’m just… scared. Not of you, I guess, but… I’ve been more guarded in other relationships. And I’ve still gotten hurt. I don’t want to be that way with you– but I can’t help but feel like the more I let you in, the more I’m ensuring it will hurt when you leave.”
Aaron stops in his tracks, pulling you into a quiet spot in a park alongside the sidewalk where you’d been walking.
“I have a couple points to make, the first and most important of which is the idea of me leaving being a sure thing,” he says, and he doesn’t sound mad, just concerned. You feel a little guilty anyways. He takes your chin in between his pointer finger and his thumb, tilts your gaze up to look at him. “I wouldn’t be here now if I was looking for a path out,” he promises. “We can’t stop other people from hurting us— as much as we both wish that all were true. I won’t pretend I haven’t thought about how wrecked I’d be if you left. But all we can do is trust ourselves to be able to pick up the pieces if we do get hurt.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, and it does make you feel a little bit better– at least that he’s had some of the same worries. 
“And I’d ask you to trust me, too. I’m sorry if past partners have made that hard for you,” he says. “But I intend to be gentle with you, and to stay, even when it gets hard. For as long as you’ll keep me around.” 
You rise to your tiptoes and kiss him, right there on the sidewalk. 
********
“Are you insane?” You yelled. It had started as a civil conversation, or at least something resembling it, at least, about Hotch’s unilateral decision to enter a known hostage situation without backup. You need to calm down, you know this. The team is still in the bullpen, just down the stairs from his office, and the glass isn’t soundproof.
“Please don’t speak to me that way,” Aaron says, so calm that it triggers another level of rage you didn’t even know you had locked up. 
“I’m sorry, Aaron, but I’m going to need more of an explanation for today than ‘I had it handled,’” you demand.
“No, you really don’t. I am your superior, and I made a call. It’s your job to respect it, and if you can’t do that, I can sign your voluntary request for a transfer,” he spits out, and you’re almost too stunned to speak. 
“I cannot believe you even suggested that,” you hiss out. “I cannot believe this. You may be my boss, Aaron, but I thought I was your partner.” You call out as you swing his office door open, realizing then that the whole team had been listening. That was absolutely not how you wanted them to find out about the two of you. You rush down the stairs, brushing off JJ when she tries to comfort you, making a beeline for the door. It’s only when you get to the garage when you realize that Hotch drove you in today. Goddamn him. You call an Uber, heading back to your own apartment for the first time in weeks.
You knew it, you think to yourself as you dig into the pint of Phish Food that you’d bought yourself for dinner. You knew that he’d hurt you if you let him in far enough. That’s just how the world works; it’s a cycle of letting your guard down and learning why you shouldn’t. God, maybe you do need to transfer. You have no clue how you’re going to go back to work on Monday. 
A knock on the door of your apartment distracts you from your train of thought. It’s probably your neighbor, Mrs. Landingham, wondering why you haven’t been around for weeks. You swing the door open, expecting to find five feet and two inches of sweet old lady, and instead revealing a much taller man who clearly knows he’s in the doghouse.
“Can we talk?” He asks with pleading eyes.
“I’d really rather not,” you grumble. 
“Please,” he begs, and you relent, stepping aside to let him in. “I was unfair in the office. I’m sorry.”
“It was pretty unfair of you to walk into an active hostage situation with an armed unsub, too,” you grouse as you put the lid back on your ice cream and put it in the freezer, allowing him to follow you to the kitchen.
“You’re right. I owe the whole team an apology for that,” he admits.
“The argument can’t just be over because you’ve decided that I’m right about everything,” you complain.
“You weren’t right about everything. But you also didn’t have all the information, and you’re owed that,” he explains.
“I’m listening.” 
“The woman… her name was Haley, and she had a young kid inside with her, and I just…” 
He trails off, and suddenly any fiber of anger you had left within you evaporates into thin air. “Oh, honey,” you say, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. “You’re right. I knew, of course, but there was so much happening so quickly and I didn’t put all the pieces together.”
“That doesn’t mean I was right. Especially as a leader, I should have been able to put that aside.”
“And as your partner, I completely understand why you couldn’t.” 
“If you still want some space, I completely understand. I just couldn’t go to bed knowing there was so much unsaid here.”
You shake your head. “Take me home, please.”
********
You envy Aaron’s ability to just fall asleep anywhere. He tells you it will come with time, that enough nights on the road and away from home due to the job will toughen you up, make it possible to doze standing up if you have to. For now, you were left staring at the ceiling of yet another hotel room. 
His gentle snores from next to you help to soothe the wounds a little. You’d been together for a little over six months now, and you both agreed that things were serious and that it made sense to tell the team. Now that the cat is out of the bag, there’s no need to sneak around or spend the night in separate hotel rooms. 
Aaron stirs, and you look over at him, wondering if you should pretend to be asleep yourself. You decide against it, or, rather, you’re too enamored with the way the lines of his face all relax in sleep to remember to close your own eyes before his open. 
“You’re not sleeping,” he says, halfway between a statement and a question. 
“I tried melatonin, but I think I may need something a little stronger,” you admit. 
He makes a little face, one that you think is maybe him finding you endearing, and starts to sit up. “I packed Z-Quil for you, it’s in my backpack.” 
“Don’t get up,” you tell him, slipping out of his grasp to reach for his backpack. “You’re too good to me.” 
He waits for you to be back in bed, back in his arms, before he speaks again. “You’re my best friend. You know that?” 
He’s gazing down at you with so much tenderness that it almost hurts; the words he’s not saying are so clearly spoken by the look in his eyes that you can’t possibly help but defuse the tension with a kiss and a joke.
“For the perks I’m giving you, I’m one hell of a best friend,” you tease.
********
The lack of sleep catches up to you the next day after the case has closed. It’s early, only about 7pm when you’re flying home, but you just can’t keep your eyes open. You’re not quite getting restful sleep; you can still hear Rossi and Reid’s chess game and you’re aware of how silly you must look curled up into the jet window. However, you can’t be bothered to care, especially when you feel Hotch drape a blanket over you– you know it’s the one he keeps stowed in one of the cabinets by the kitchen. It smells like his fabric softener. You tuck the corner of the blanket into your chin and smile.
You sleep soundly for the rest of the flight home, and Aaron doesn’t even let you stop back in at your desk;  he just brings you to his car and leaves you nestled in the passenger seat for a moment so he can drop both of your things off.
“This is silly, Aaron. You don’t need to baby me,” you tell him when you get back to the car. 
“You slept for maybe five hours in the last three days. I certainly do need to baby you,” he insists as he pulls out of the parking lot, putting the radio on low on the acoustic station that you like. 
Despite your insistence that you’re fine, you fall asleep again on the ride home, and you don’t have any energy left to argue when he tells you to just head up to bed when you get back to the house. He detours into the kitchen but you don’t think much of it, knowing he must be hungry. You rouse when you hear him at your bedside table a few minutes later— in the dark of your bedroom, you can see that he’s left a peanut butter and jelly and some saltine crackers for you— knowing that you’re likely to wake up starving in the middle of the night. You roll over, reaching for him the moment he lowers himself to the bed and pressing a sleepy kiss to his shoulder.
********
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this to a holiday party. We need to take Jack to Alaska. Or the North Pole. We can’t have Christmas in weather like this,” you pout as you adjust the spaghetti strap of the dress you put on for the FBI’s holiday party.
“This is Virginia. It happens,” Aaron tries to console you as he places a hand on the small of your back to lead you out the door and to the car. “Besides, there’s snow in the forecast for Christmas Eve.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you grumble as you settle into the passenger seat of Aaron’s SUV, peering at the display. “It’s literally in the mid-sixties, Aaron! It’s balmy. We may as well live in Florida.” 
He doesn’t respond verbally, just takes your hand in his and brings the back of your palm to his lips to place a brief kiss there before bringing your joined hands back down to rest on the center console.
You meet up with the rest of the team as soon as you get to the party, finding the BAU’s assigned table and sitting for dinner. Aaron makes the rounds to shake hands with some of the higher-ups before the first course, but you’re  more than happy to sit and chat with the girls while he did so.
After dinner is always dancing, which usually started slow and got rowdier as the night went on and the upper brass filtered out.  You’ve just wrapped up a dance with Rossi when Aaron wraps a hand around your wrist. 
“Come with me,” he says, urgent but not anxious.
“Come with you where?” You ask.
“Just come on,” he says, guiding you gently towards a door. He guides you to the courtyard, towards the gazebo. You can hear the music from the ballroom faintly in the background as he places a hand on your waist to lead you in a dance.
“Are you scared to dance with me in front of people?” You asked with a sarcastic little smile. 
He scoffs. “Just you wait.”
“Wait for what, exactly?”
“You are so impatient,” he teases as he dips you by the waist. As he lifts you back up, you see what you were waiting for— big, fat, snowflakes, falling slowly towards the ground. They melt as soon as they make contact with the ground, but that doesn’t matter. 
“Oh,” you let out a satisfied little gasp. “It’s just perfect,” you say as the two of you spin again. 
“Told you It’d be worth it,” he smirks.
“How did you know this was coming?” 
He shrugs. “Christmas miracle.” You level him with a glance and he comes clean. “I can read a radar map, angel. We’ve got maybe one more song before this turns to rain.” 
You look around, taking it all in before you have to run for cover. “It’s like we’re in a snowglobe,” you smile. 
“Like I said,” Aaron repeats. “Christmas miracle.”
********
You don’t like to brag, but your coworkers were all badasses. You went toe-to-toe with serial killers, interviewed convicts, got into the heads of the world’s worst individuals. But you all had the exact same soft spot, and her name was Penelope Garcia.
Which is how the monthly BAU Book Swap came to be. You all circled up in the conference room and talked about what you’d read over the last month, and pulled a name out of a hat to see whose book you’d go home with. 
“Hold on!” you say as Garcia prepares to start. I need a highlighter, give me one second.” 
Hotch’s office is closer than your desk, so you trot down the hall and pull at his lap drawer. As you do so, you look up at his desk space, seeing a new addition— a picture of the two of you from a recent weekend away in a silver frame. You let out a deep sigh of gratitude as you grabbed a blue highlighter from his stash and headed back to the conference room. “Sorry, carry on,” you said as you reached for Aaron’s hand under the table, giving it a little squeeze.
You ended up pulling Spencer’s name out of the hat, and you almost hold your breath as you wait to see what he’d read this month. 
“I read the Odyssey,” he tells you, and you swallow thickly before he continues. “But, honestly, I didn’t really like it that much. So I brought a copy of the Hobbit for the swap.” 
“I have to admit I’m a little bit relieved,” you tell him. “What didn’t you like about it?” 
“I just had a hard time buying into it,” he admits. “I mean, are we really supposed to believe that the love of one person started an entire war between Greece and Troy?” 
You look at Hotch across the room, deep in conversation with Morgan about his pick. “I believe it, Spence.”
******** 
You’re making dinner together when the words start to slip out of you. “Can I say something?” You ask. 
“Of course you can,” Aaron says, looking up from his chopping. “Something good, or something bad?”
“No, no,” you dismiss any worry he might have. “Something good. I, uh. It feels almost silly to say it. Especially now, with nothing going on, just the two of us making dinner,” you ramble. You’ve tried to phrase this perfectly in your head a million times. “I wanted to tell you exactly right,” you say. You weren’t planning to just let it tumble out of you as you stirred a pasta sauce. “Except, I’m not sure if I even need to say it out loud, because it’s just so… known? Between us. Like I don’t even need to say it, because it’s so obvious. But it feels like one of those milestones, one of those things that’s supposed to make me feel exactly as nervous as I feel right now, so I guess I’m supposed to tell you—”
“I’m in love with you, too,” Aaron says as he sprinkles a little bit of basil into the sauce you’re stirring.
You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, the only sound you’re able to make is a confused “What?”
He stops in his tracks. “I am so sorry– was that not what you were—”
“No, no, it was,” you insist. 
“I should have let you go first,” he apologizes.
You laugh. “No,” you assure him. “No, that was perfect. I’m in love with you,” you say it aloud for good measure. You know that you don’t have to.
tagging: @spacecowboyhotch @honeybrowne @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @infinite-tides @gspenc @anlin2058 @zetasaturno99 @realdirectionx @witheldclouds @sbeno22 @el-vs94 @hausofwhores
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kyleoreillylover · 4 months
Text
Chapter 3- Time
Series Summary/Masterlist
word count: 13,537
tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01
warnings: wrestling related violence, manipulation, mentions of cheating.
Chapter Summary: It's time for your test. You have a choice to make. Will you finally get your revenge on Becky and take what's rightfully yours, that title? Will you choose your best friends for over 20 years over Roman, or will you finally be selfish and choose yourself for once? Will you finally put away your kind heartedness in favor for retribution? Only time will tell.
a/n: This chapter is my favorite one that I have written, so I hope you guys enjoy! Also there will be a big time jump in the next chapter from 2020 to 2022, so be prepared for that lol. Love you guys and thank you for reading my silly little stories <3
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liked by uceyjucey, trinityfatu, beckylynch, jimmyuso and 600,00 others
y/n: bleeding out red and gonna be dripping out in gold 💋 #eliminationchamber #rawwomenschampionship
view all comments:
user: mother looks so freaking good!!!
user: red hair era makes me go feral
samizaynwwe: wishing you the best of luck <3
↳user: omg this is so cute!! I miss their friendship 😩😭
↳user: more like relationship 😭 friends do not look at each other like the way they used to look at one another 😭
↳y/n: you already know that, you picked out the gear for me 
user: the fact that ur still competing when ur bestie has a whole broken arm
↳user: and what do u want her to do? forfeit her title match cause becky got attacked by some rando? pls exit this comment section and never return
user: why all the red suddenly... 👀
↳user: why question it when she looks so good in red 🥰
Beckylynchwwe: may the best women win. 🤝 Love you <3
↳y/n: may the best women win 🤝 Lyt <3
user: you better win!!! 
uceyjucey: red looks good on you 🩸
↳y/n: you already know that, you picked out the gear for me 😒♥️
↳uceyjucey: that just means I got good taste ;)
↳user: what's going on here???
↳user: idk but i’m loving it
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"Becky, are you sure you should be competing in this type of match like this?"
Your concerned voice rang out in the locker room as you leaned against the wall, looking at Becky who was wrapping her injured arm with a supportive bandage. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders as she glanced up, meeting your eyes with a determined look.
"I have no other choice," Becky replied, a steely resolve evident in her tone.  She continued wrapping up her injured arm, securing it carefully. You stared at it with a unreadable expression on your face, your worries etched in the furrow of your brow. Becky noticed your concern and paused, meeting your gaze once more.
"You always have a choice." You retorted sharply, expressing your concern for her well being.
Becky sighed, a mixture of frustration and determination evident in her eyes. "I know Y/N," Becky said softly, her voice tinged with both determination and a hint of vulnerability. "But I can't back down from this. I've worked too hard to get here, and I won't let anything—no injury, no setback, no attacker—stop me."
You nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "I get it, Becky. I just don't want to see you hurt any further. This match is brutal, and with your arm—"
Becky cut you off gently, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and determination. "I appreciate your concern, I truly do. But I've made up my mind. I'm stepping into that ring, and I'm going to give it my all."
There was a moment of silence as you both exchanged looks filled with unspoken understanding. Despite your worries, you knew Becky's determination was unshakeable, and you knew that no matter what you said, she wouldn't change her decision.
With a a sigh, you relented, realizing that your words might not dissuade her from her chosen path.
"Alright, Becky. I'll be right there, rooting for you," you said, offering your support despite your reservations. "May the best women win." You offered her your hand, giving her a firm shake before offering a supportive hug. Becky reciprocated the hug, her fiery spirit burning even in the face of adversity.
"Maybe the best women win." Becky mumbled into your jacket, tightening her grip on you like you were all she had before letting go. You gave her a smile that was wiped away when you left the room. The cameras that were waiting for you caught it, and Kayla Braxton, who looked eager to see you before the match, rushed forward, holding a microphone.
"Y/N, could we have a moment of your time before the Elimination Chamber match?" Kayla's voice carried a sense of urgency as she positioned herself to get the best shot for the viewers tuning in.
You offered a quick nod, acknowledging Kayla's request before making your way down the corridor, cameras trailing behind. The anticipation for your upcoming match was palpable in the air, the buzzing energy of the arena adding to the already charged atmosphere.
Kayla posed her first question, her voice projecting professionalism despite the evident excitement. "Y/N, you're about to enter the Elimination Chamber match for the Raw Women's Championship. With Becky Lynch injured and the odds against you, how do you plan to approach this match?"
Your expression shifted to one of confusion and determination, a resolve etched on your face. "Odds stacked against me? Kayla, you clearly didn't do your research before coming to me. I am the "odds." The word rolled off your tongue with a confident smirk.
 "Those other competitors are probably hoping for me to be the last one released from the pod so they have a better chance. But guess what? I thrive in this kind of environment. I have fun in this kind of enviornment." Your voice turned cold yet fiery at the same time as  you continued, your eyes focused on the camera.
"Shayna, Natalya, Becky, Nia, and Auska wanna act like they have the upper hand? Newsflash, I beat Shayna and Natalya last week, and they showed me that they are nothing but speed bumps on my road to victory. As for the others, I will happily stomp on them on my way to the top. Let's not forget I am the woman that broke Ronda Rousey so badly she had to go take another vacation cause she couldn't handle taking that title from me, and she's the one that won!" 
You giggled at Kayla, the fervor in your voice matching the intensity of the situation. "So, in case anyone's forgotten, I am the Princess of Pain." You paused for a moment, a sly grin crossing your face. "And I plan to remind everyone why that's the case when I walk out with that Raw Women's Championship tonight."
Kayla gulped at the intense proclamation, her eyes widening as she attempted to maintain her professional composure. Your demeanor was not your normal one; it was a blend of anger, determination, and a hint of ferocity that spoke volumes about your mindset entering the match.
The aura you exuded was one of someone willing to destroy themselves to destroy their opponents,  channeling a potent mix of confidence and aggression that was unlike you to have before you get in the ring.
"And I have to ask, do you feel guilty going into this match knowing you might have to hurt an injured Becky to secure the title?" Kayla's question hung in the air, her gaze expectant as she awaited your response.
Your expression shifted, the fire in your eyes dimming slightly as you considered the weight of Kayla's inquiry. "Kayla, let's get something straight," you began, your tone calmer yet laced with determination. "This isn't about hurting Becky. This is about competition, about proving myself in that ring. Becky and I have mutual respect, and if she's stepping into that Chamber, she knows what's at stake just as much as I do."
You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "If she wants to go into this match injured, then she needs to be prepared for the consequences. I won't hold back, not because I want to hurt her, but because in that ring, we're all fighting for the same thing—the championship. Becky knows that as much as anyone else in that Chamber. It's every women for herself, and there are no friends once that bell rings. I respect Becky, but I won't let sentimentality cloud my goal—becoming the Raw Women's Champion."
Kayla nodded understandingly, her demeanor maintaining its professional facade despite the charged nature of your response. "And my last question, how do you respond to claims made by a now injured Seth Rollins- who was taken out of his match- that you were the one who attacked Becky?"
You internally smiled at the mention of Seth being injured, but your expression remained serious and composed. "Seth's accusations are baseless and unfounded. I have no reason to attack Becky, especially not before a match of this magnitude. As much as Seth may want to stir controversy, I'm solely focused on this Elimination Chamber match and claiming what I rightfully deserve—the Raw Women's Championship."
Kayla nodded, giving you a bright smile. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Y/N. Best of luck in the match tonight."
You nodded in acknowledgment, offering a quick, determined smile before the cameras panned away and the backstage scene transitioned into the electrifying arena. 
It was almost time.
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All you felt was red hot anger as you were putting on your gear. Your skin was on fire, your thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour, and the sensation of frustration coursed through your veins like a wildfire.
 All you could think of was finally getting your hands on Becky and hurting her like she hurt you. Slamming her into the steel. Throwing her into the glass pod and reveling in her agony. Sticking that knife into her back like she had done to you and making her feel what you felt. All of those thoughts made your skin feel even hotter, and you barely registered the voice calling out for you from outside the bathroom.
"Y/N, pretty girl, you finished yet? Match starts in 10 and I wanna see you in your pretty gear." Knocking accompanied Jey's  expectant yet concerned tone, and you jumped at the sudden interruption, momentarily pulling you out of the dark thoughts swirling in your mind. Your breathing was ragged, your hands slightly trembling as you tried to compose yourself. 
"Yeah, gimme a sec." You   replied, your voice low and cold, trying to mask the turmoil brewing within. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady your emotions, knowing you couldn't afford to let this rage control you before the match.
Quickly finishing up, you emerged from the bathroom, wearing your wrestling gear—a crimson ensemble that matched the intensity of your emotions, and opened the locker room door.
Jey was waiting, and any words he was gonna say were quickly forgotten as he took in your beauty. Your beautiful crimson gear hugging your body perfectly, red makeup accentuating your fierce expression, your sun-kissed brown skin on display making Jey's mouth water. It took everything in him to not kiss you right then and there.
"Damn." Jey whispered out, eyes darkening at the sight of you and trying to not look down at your gear and instead maintain eye contact. "You look incredible, Y/N."
You forced a small smile, though your eyes still held a hint of the lingering anger. "Thanks, Jey." You appreciated his compliment, but your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming match and the intense emotions swirling within you. 
"You don't look too bad yourself." Not too bad was an understandment, Jey looked like a greek god; sporting his gold chain and his abs on full display since he was shirtless underneath his black jacket that showed off his muscles. The tension between the two of you was undeniable, the charged atmosphere only adding to the intensity of the moment. 
Jey stepped closer to you and gently put his hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring.  "Hey, you're gonna do great out there. I know you're feeling a lot right now, but don't let it consume you. Stay focused, okay? You're the Princess of Pain for a reason." 
His hand left your shoulder and cupped your cheek, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb.
Your breath hitched slightly at the contact, the warmth of his hand making you get out of your head, if only for a little while. You looked up into his honey-brown eyes that seemed to lighten up just for you  before they grew serious again, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 
"What's wrong?' Jey softly asked, his concern palpable in his gaze.
You shook your head, trying to brush off his concerns, but his thumb remained on your cheek, gentle yet insistent. "It's nothing, just pre-match nerves. I'll be fine once I'm out there." 
Despite your attempt to downplay your emotions, Jey knew you better than to take your words at face value. He observed you for a moment, and it felt like he was staring into your soul, waiting for you to open up and share what was truly bothering you.
Finally, unable to resist the comfort Jey offered, you sighed, feeling the weight of the emotions crashing over you. "It's Becky," you admitted in a hushed tone, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't shake off this anger. It's consuming me, and I know Roman told me to let it fester until the right moment, but I feel like I'm losing control."
Jey's face softened at your admission, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek again, offering you a comforting gesture. "I get it. But think about it. Finally getting your revenge, taking her down and showing her she can't mess with you again, that's your big moment. And you're gonna have that moment." 
Despite his words, you felt the anger lick at your insides like a relentless flame, almost drowning out Jey's comforting words. You blinked, trying to refocus on his face, to ground yourself in his calming presence.
"I want that moment, Jey. I want to make her pay for what she did to me." The intensity in your voice matched the ferocity in your eyes. "But you don't understand. Once I get out there,  I don't know if I can control it. I don't know if I can stop myself from going too far." 
That was the understandment of the year. You've had this problem for years, you weren't called the Princess of Pain without a reason. It was why you tried for so many years to be the good guy, to fight against the darkness inside you. Sami and Kevin were usually the ones who helped you keep it at bay, but they weren't here this time. They wouldn't be able to pull you back if things got too out of hand. 
You've never let your anger out like this before except for one time in the NXT when Kevin cost you your NXT Women's Championship after you took Sami's side in their feud. 
That night haunted you- and the moments that followed it haunted you as well. You attacked Kevin in a fit of rage backstage, and injured him, fighting him all the way to the parking lot and breaking his arm in the process.
Sami wasn't in the arena to calm you down, and when the security guards finally sepeated you from Kevin,  your eyes red with anger and tears, you found a empty spot to sit at to get away from everyone.
You felt like crying until you had no tears left,  feeling the guilt and shame consume you. But before you could, a tap on your shoulder made you look up, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 
It was Bray Wyatt, his serene yet enigmatic presence somehow calming the storm raging within you. He sat beside you, not saying anything at first, just offering his silent support. The two of you didn't speak until you eventually found the words amiss the storm of emotions you were experiencing.
"What do you want?" You snapped at Bray, the anger still boiling under your skin, not understanding why he was approaching you at such a vulnerable moment.
Bray didn't flinch at your outburst, his calm demeanor unwavering. "I don't want anything from you, Y/N. I'm here because I understand your pain. I see the turmoil within you, and I'm here to offer guidance if you're willing to accept it."
You scoffed, feeling a mixture of frustration and confusion. "Guidance? What do you know about my pain? About what I'm feeling right now?"
Bray leaned in closer, his piercing gaze fixed on you. "I know more than you think. I've danced with darkness, embraced it, and found my way back. I see the same struggle in you. The anger, the hurt, it's consuming you, because you are scared of it. But you have a choice. You can either be scared of it and push it away, but that will only worsen it, or you can embrace it, acknowledge it, and learn that it is a part of you. The choice is yours, Y/N."
His words resonated within you, cutting through the chaos in your mind with a clarity you hadn't felt in a long time. You looked at Bray, a mix of emotions still swirling within you, but his calm demeanor somehow grounding you in the moment.
"What do I do?" you asked, your voice softer, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the facade you had built.
Bray smiled gently, his eyes holding a depth of understanding. "You will see." With that, Bray stood up and left, leaving you with a sense of intrigue and contemplation. The memory of that encounter with Bray Wyatt was etched in your mind, his enigmatic guidance lingering as you grappled with controlling the anger brewing within you.
Back in the present moment with Jey, you felt a pang of that same uncertainty and inner turmoil, knowing that this time, you might not have someone like Bray Wyatt, Sami or Kevin to guide you through the tumultuous waves of anger and darkness that threatened to consume you.
Jey's voice pulled you out of the memories, his concern evident in his expression. "Hey, listen to me." He gently cupped your face with both hands, his touch grounding you in the present.  "I can stop you if things get too out of hand. You know that, right? I won't let you hurt yourself."
You blinked, the sincerity in Jey's eyes cutting through the tempest within you.
"Jey, I appreciate that. I really do," you began, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to express your gratitude, "but this isn't something you can just step in and stop. Not this time. I don't even know if I can control it myself."
You felt a rush of anger and gripped Jey's wrist tightly, the intensity of your emotions almost palpable. "I'm just scared that no one will be able to pull me back from the edge this time."
Jey's gaze softened, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders in a reassuring manner. He knew you had a side to you that he never really saw before until Becky confessed about her and Seth, a side that was darker, more intense, and harbored deep-seated emotions.
But he didn't care about the darkness within you. He cared about the beautiful women that was capable of so much more, the woman who was passionate, driven, and compassionate.
"I won't let you go over the edge." Jey shook his head and grabbed your hand firmly. "You focus on winning, and when you come back, I'll be waiting for you no matter what."
You shook your head, pulling your hand out of his grasp. Jey didn't understand. You could barely control it, how could he pull you from the edge if you were teetering on it? How could he tell you that you'd come back unscathed when the rage within threatened to consume you entirely? 
"You can't promise that." You harshly whispered , your voice carrying a mix of fear and frustration. "You don't understand, Jey. This isn't something you can just control or stop. I don't even know if I can."
Jey grabbed your hand back, his eyes locked with yours in a silent exchange of emotions. "I understand that I can help you with this."
"Don't waste your time trying when you can't." You tightened your grip on Jey's hand, your voice desperate yet resigned. "You can't save me from myself, Jey. No one can."
"I can."
"No one can Jey!" You broke free of his grasp, the emotions swirling within you too overwhelming to contain. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of frustration, anger, and fear threatening to spill over. You turned away from Jey, unable to bear the weight of his comforting gaze. "And I won't risk let you get hurt because of me."
"You can't take that choice away from me. I want take the risk." Jey's words made you turn back to him with a glare that conveyed a mix of emotions. You wanted to push him away, to protect him from yourself yet a part of you longed for his comforting presence, his unwavering support.
"Well too bad, cause I'm not letting you take it." You moved to grab your jacket, but Jey stepped in front of you, blocking your path and capturing your attention with a resolute gaze.
"I'm not gon' let you push me away cause I care about you." Jey stated firmly, his voice unwavering as he held your gaze. "I'll fight for you, even if it's against yourself."
"I can't let you do that." You tried to push past him, but Jey just stood his ground, refusing to let you leave.
"You can't stop me from caring about you, Y/N."
"Yes, I can."
"No, you can't."
"Yes, I can!" You raised your voice, frustration and desperation seeping through every word. "I'm not worth it, Jey! I'm not worth risking yourself for!"
Jey remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to gently cup your face, making you freeze in your tracks. His touch was warm and comforting, his eyes locking onto yours with a sense of determination that matched your own.
"You are worth it, Y/N," he said softly, his voice laced with conviction. "You're worth every bit of effort, every bit of care. I won't let you believe otherwise." Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of emotions churning within you. You wanted to push him away, but his touch, his proximity, just him in general was making you feel things you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time. 
"I can't hurt you..." You mumbled softly, Jey's expression softened even more, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escaped from your eye.
"I can handle the pain, pretty girl, trust me." Something about his words made you internally heat up, feeling a mix of emotions at his unwavering support and care. 
Jey felt the shift in your demeanor, felt the tension that threatened to explode between the two of you, and when he looked down at your perfectly glossed lips, he couldn't take it anymore.
The only warning you got was him pulling you into his arms before his lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss. When he felt your lips not moving, his brain started working again and panic began to fill his body.
Holy shit, he was kissing you.
Jey quickly pulled away, his eyes wide with shock at what he had just done. He looked at you and expected to see a disguted expression, but instead, he was met with a look of surprise mixed with something else, something he couldn't quite decipher.
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Jey stammered, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed anywhere but on you. "I understand if you wanna slap me or not wanna be friends anymore-" Jey was cut off by your sudden movement as you grabbed his face and pulled him into another kiss, this time more fervent and filled with an intensity that surprised both of you.
Your lips moved against his in a desperate embrace, your hands sliding around his neck as you deepened the kiss, feeling a mix of emotions surging through you.
Jey's initial shock melted away, replaced by a raw passion as he responded to your kiss with equal fervor, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer.
The intensity of the moment, the emotions swirling within you, they all converged in that fiery kiss, a collision of desire, desperation, and unspoken words. His lips were rough yet soft against yours, the taste of him sending a wave of warmth through your body.
For a moment, it felt like everything else faded away—the anger, the turmoil, the impending match—leaving only the two of you in that charged, passionate moment.
Breaking the kiss, you both panted slightly, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. Jey's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and longing reflected in his gaze, mirroring the emotions you felt within yourself. You both stood there, caught in a moment of unspoken connection, the tension between you palpable yet strangely comforting.
"I... I don't know what came over me," Jey finally managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and desire, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.
You shook your head slightly, trying to process the intensity of what just happened, the flood of emotions still coursing through you. "I don't either," you admitted softly, your heart racing with a combination of excitement and uncertainty.
A knock on the door startled you both, making you snap out of the moment. Jey quickly composed himself, adjusting his jacket as he moved away from you, trying to regain his composure. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heartbeat and clear your mind.
"Y/N, it's time. We're about to start," a voice called from outside the door, interrupting the charged atmosphere that lingered between you. 
"Give me a minute." You called out in response, your voice slightly shaky as you tried to regain your focus.
You turned to Jey, who looked like he was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, and walked over to him, placing your hand on his arm, gingerly making your way to his chest before grabbing his chain, gently tugging on it to bring him down to your level. Both your skins felt like they were still ablaze with the remnants of the intense moment you shared, and you locked eyes with him, a mix of emotions reflecting in your gaze.
"We'll talk about this later, so don't worry about it." You ran your hand along Jey's jawline, your touch light yet conveying a sense of reassurance. "But I promise you we're good. Wish me luck?"
Jey's eyes softened at your words, and he wished that he could say more, that he could express the myriad of emotions swirling within him.
Instead, he gave you a nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Good luck, pretty girl. Kill it out there." he replied softly, his voice filled with a mixture of support and love. You gave him a blinding smile, and he watched as you let go of his chain, your hand sliding away from his jawline, and made your way towards the door, steeling yourself for the intense match ahead.
He just hoped that you'd come back to him unscathed.
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You glared through your pod, your gaze fixated on Becky as she made her entrance into the Elimination Chamber match. The sight of her intensified the emotions within you, the anger and resentment threatening to consume you once again.
But this time yo would let it consume you, let it overwhelm your senses and take control of your actions. The anger boiled inside you like a tempest, urging you to unleash it upon her, to make her feel the pain and anguish you had harbored since the betrayal.
Natalya and Becky were to start the match, and as the countdown began for the first pod to open, you focused on preparing yourself mentally for the chaos that was about to unfold.
After 30 minutes- it was like a war zone. Natalya was the first to be eliminated by a roll-up by Shayna, who turned on her. One of the pods were broken when Tamina speared Nia through it, who eliminated Nia. Becky was nursing her arm after Shayna targeted it and you eliminated her before she could tap Becky out with your finisher.
And you and Auska were tangled in the corner, exchanging fierce strikes and attempts to gain the upper hand. You slammed her into the steel, blood pouring out of your mouth from where you'd been hit by her kicks.
The match had taken a toll on everyone, leaving bruises, blood, and fatigue as the competitors fought tooth and nail for the coveted Raw Women's Championship.
As you grappled with Asuka, you could barely think, you were barely yourself. You let the darker side of you take over, your vision tunneling to focus solely on inflicting pain and securing victory at any cost. The crowd roared, the steel structure reverberated with the impact of bodies colliding, but it was all a distant symphony to you, drowned out by the internal fury consuming your thoughts.
"You are not ready for Auska!" Asuka screamed at you as she slammed your head into the steel over and over again. But all that did was make you smile with every hit, making Auska angrier and try to fight you even harder.
The pain seared through your body, but you welcomed it, reveling in the agony as it fueled the fire within you. You grunted with each impact, the taste of blood on your lips as sweet as candy.
With a sudden burst of strength, you managed to reverse Auska's assault, throwing her into the steel structure with a resounding crash. You saw her wince in pain, but you didn't relent. Your movements were almost mechanical, your mind was clouded, your vision hazy with the red mist of aggression and determination.
You grabbed her head and slammed it against the steel again, and again, and again, each impact echoing through the chamber. The crowd's chants and screams merged into a cacophony, but your focus remained singular—inflict pain, show no mercy, and secure victory at any cost.
Blood trickled down your face from the earlier blows, mixing with the crimson of your attire, making you look like the darkness that consumed you. The intense desire to win, the need to prove your dominance, all these emotions drove you forward, blurring the lines between competition and the dark turmoil within.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Tamina barreling down at you, and you managed to sidestep her attack just in time, causing her to crash into Auska with a fierce impact. You laughed darkly, the sound almost maniacal as you watched both of them reel in pain, before you grabbed Auska and hauled her into the ring for the pin. 
"Auska has been eliminated!" The announcer's voice boomed through the arena as your victory was declared. But there was no elation in your expression, no triumphant celebration. Instead, a cold, almost detached look adorned your face as you stood over Auska, panting heavily, your gaze fixated on the fallen competitor.
Your gaze went to Becky, who was still nursing her arm, watching the chaos unfold in the ring. The sight of her triggered a surge of raw emotions within you, the memories of her betrayal and your desire for retribution resurfacing with an overwhelming intensity. You were consumed by an uncontrollable rage, the darkness within you clawing its way to the surface as you eyed Becky with an unspoken promise of vengeance.
Your gaze went from Becky, to Tamina, then Becky again. You smiled and moved closer to Becky, who was already on her feet, albeit visibly weakened from the match. "The two of us, get Tamina. Then it'll just be us." 
Becky nodded, understanding the unspoken plan as the two of you cautiously approached Tamina, who was trying to recover from the previous onslaught. As a team, you and Becky coordinated your attacks, trying to neutralize Tamina's advantage.
You grabbed her from behind, while Becky kicked her in the midsection, trying to weaken her. But Tamina was stronger, and she powered out of your grip, sending you to the mat with a forceful shove. Becky, in her weakened state, tried to fight back, but Tamina's power was overwhelming.
You staggered to your feet, the pain and exhaustion beginning to take its toll, but the fire within you burned fiercely. You knew you had to take down Tamina to secure a chance at the championship, and you couldn't let anything—especially the betrayal that fueled your rage—distract you from that goal.
As Tamina advanced towards Becky, you launched yourself at her, driving your shoulder into her midsection and knocking her down. You and Becky seized the opportunity, both delivering a series of coordinated strikes, attempting to weaken Tamina further. Tamina realized that this could mark the end for her and swiftly ran away from the both of you, climbing the cage and trying to escape.
You and Becky quickly went after her, scaling the cage and trying to get her. Tamina climbed onto the top of the pod to try and get away , but you and Becky both grabbed Tamina's legs to prevent her escape. She struggled, thrashing wildly in an attempt to break free from your grip, but both you and Becky held on, determined to keep her from fleeing. 
With a combined effort, you and Becky managed to pull Tamina back down kick her, making her slump in the corner of the pod.
"How do you like that, Tamina!" You yelled at her , your voice filled with a mix of exhilaration and a hint of vindication.
You turned away from her and realized Becky was dangling off the edge of the pod, struggling to maintain her balance. In that split second, the memories hit you— when she had told you she and Seth were seeing each other behind your back — and you knew the choice you had to make. 
"Give me your hand, Becks." You extended your hand to Becky, offering her support to pull her back up onto the pod. 
Becky sighed a breath of relief, her grip on the edge faltering slightly. "I... I can't reach, Y/N!" Her voice was strained, panic evident in her eyes as she struggled to maintain her precarious position.
"I got you!" You moved towards her and grabbed her hand, and for a moment it felt like everything between the two of you was perfect; that nothing had changed, that she still held your trust.
And then you kicked her away from the edge of the pod.
"Oh my god Corey, Y/N just kicked Becky off the pod!" Cole's shocked voice was drowned out by the cheers and gasps from the crowd as the camera panned onto the sadistic smirk on your face. 
You licked your lips as the sound of Becky's body hitting the mat echoed through the arena, a sickening thud that sent a chill down your spine.
The chaos around you, the loud exclamations from the commentators, the roar of the audience—it all seemed distant as your gaze remained fixated on Becky's prone form.
This is what you wanted. This is what she deserved. This is what you needed.
You turned to Tamina, who was knocked out next to you, and grabbed her from the corner of the pod, yanking her by the head and standing her up.
You grabbed her by the throat and looked down at how high you guys were up, and turned back to her with a chilling smile and choke slamming her all the way down to the ring, dropping the two of you from the top of the pod, crashing violently onto the mat below.
The pain from falling felt like a rush of adrenaline, a mix of exhilaration and agony that surged through your body. You laughed at Tamina's howl of pain and rolled her over to pin her.
"Tamina has been eliminated!"
The announcer's voice echoed through the arena, but all you could focus on was Becky's fallen form a few feet away from you. The sight of her lying motionless on the floor made you smile with a twisted sense of satisfaction.
The rush of power, the vindication, the culmination of all the betrayal and hurt fueled your actions. The cheers and gasps from the crowd became distant echoes in your ears, drowned out by the chaotic symphony of your own emotions.
You slowly stood up, never breaking eye contact with Becky's motionless figure. It was like a hunter relishing the sight of their prey, except in this instance, the prey was someone who had betrayed your trust, someone whose actions had fueled an uncontrollable rage within you.
You stalked toward Becky, every step deliberate, every movement calculated. The audience's reaction was a mix of shock, disbelief, and some even cheering at the audacity of your actions. But you were oblivious to it all, fixated solely on the fallen figure before you.
Standing over Becky's motionless body, a myriad of emotions churned within you—anger, hurt, and a dark satisfaction. The memories of betrayal flooded your mind, intensifying the storm of emotions raging inside you.
"You thought I forgot what you did to me, Becky?" Your voice was low, filled with a venomous intensity as you grabbed her head, your fingers curling around her hair. The crowd's hushed murmurs created a haunting backdrop to the tense moment, but your focus remained solely on Becky, on the feelings that surged within you.
"You thought you could just betray me and walk away unscathed?" The words dripped with malice as you pulled Becky up to her knees, your grip unyielding. Her eyes fluttered open, registering the danger in your demeanor as fear etched across her face.
"Y/N, please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I never wanted..." Becky's voice trembled, the desperation evident in her plea.
"You never wanted? You never wanted what, Becky?" Your voice rose, punctuated with bitterness and anger. "You never wanted to hurt me? You never wanted to lie to me?"
The memories flooded back, vivid and painful. Both good and bad.
When she hugged you the moment you won your first main roster title. When you snuck from everyone on a international tour in Italy from your time on the Indies and had gotten lost. When you both got signed to the WWE and threw a party and gotten so drunk Sami and Kevin had to carry you both back to your hotel rooms.
These memories flooded back in an instant, as if they were tugging at the last strings of sanity within you. But then you flickered back to the moment when that trust was shattered, when deceit became the foundation of your relationship with Becky.
"I trusted you! I trusted you more than anyone else!" Your voice cracked with emotion, the hurt resurfacing with a vengeance. "And you destroyed it all!"
Becky's attempts to plead or apologize fell on deaf ears. The betrayal had festered deep within, feeding the darkness that had consumed you. Your grip tightened on her hair, a vengeful glare fixed on her.
"But now... now you'll pay for what you did." With a sudden burst of rage, you slammed Becky's head onto the cold, unforgiving steel floor, a sickening thud echoing through the chamber.
The crowd's gasps and cries blended into a cacophony as you repeated the action, each strike fueled by the pain of betrayal, each impact a testament to the seething anger within you. The once vibrant and fearless Becky Lynch was now at your mercy, helpless against the onslaught.
"You thought I forgot everything you did to me?!" You screamed at her as you pushed her head into the steel cage, the clang of metal echoing the chaos within your own mind.
Becky's struggles weakened, her body becoming limp under the relentless assault. The rush of power surged through you with each strike, a grim satisfaction stemming from the torment inflicted upon the person who had shattered your trust.
"You don't get to apologize, Becky! You don't get to plead for forgiveness!" The words tore out of you, laced with an uncontainable rage that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long. Each blow against the steel was a manifestation of the pain she had caused, an outlet for the betrayal that had gnawed at your soul.
You made her stand up, her knees buckling under the strain, her eyes pleading for mercy. But there was no mercy left in you, only the searing desire for retribution. With a cruel determination, you hoisted Becky up, making her lean against the unforgiving steel structure of the chamber.
"This is for everything you didi to me!" The words dripped with a cold ferocity as you speared her into the pod, the glass shattering upon impact. Becky's body crumpled amidst the debris, and you breathed out angrily at the sight.
The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, a mixture of vindication and a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over you as you stood there, heaving with exertion and emotion.
But you didn't stop there. You slowly stood up and grabbed her hair, pulling her up once again. Despite the exhaustion creeping into your bones, the rage and hurt refused to ebb away. You wanted her to feel every ounce of pain you had endured.
"You made me suffer, Becky. Now it's your turn." Your voice was a venomous whisper as you dragged her towards the chamber's unforgiving steel walls. The walls were slightly open from where Nia and Tamina had crashed into earlier, creating jagged edges that now served as a menacing backdrop to your vendetta.
You threw Becky down into the middle of the steel, and with a primal roar, slammed the steel wall into her injured arm. 
Becky's anguished scream pierced the air. Her body convulsed with pain, her face contorted in agony as she writhed on the unforgiving steel surface.  You slammed the door into her injured arm again and again, the metallic clang merging with her cries of agony. Each strike was fueled by the betrayal you felt, the pent-up rage finding release in the physical torment you were inflicting.
"You wanna have Seth? Go right ahead, I'll have something better- your title." You  spat out the words, each syllable filled with the bitterness of betrayal as you continued the onslaught. "The two of you can destroyed each other, for all I care!"
The chamber's atmosphere had turned eerily silent, save for Becky's agonized screams and the brutal sound of the steel door colliding with her arm. You didnt stop until Becky lay there, barely conscious, the torment etched into her features. Her arm hung at an unnatural angle, broken and battered from the relentless assault.
You leaned down and took the cast off of her injured arm, tossing it aside with disdain, before leaning down and retrieving the metal pole you had broken her arm with yesterday and smiled at the sight of it. Holding it aloft, a crazed grin etched on your face, you relished in the feeling of power coursing through your veins.
"You really thought I forgave you, Becky?  You thought I'd forget what you did? You thought wrong." Your voice was a sinister growl, dripping with malice as you towered over the battered and broken figure of Becky.
She lay there, barely able to move, her gaze filled with pain and shock as she looked up at you. She hoped to see mercy in your eyes, but all she found was a cold, unyielding resolve.
"You are worth nothing. The only thing worthy you have is that Raw Women's Championship, and I'm taking it." You lifted the metal pole, ready to strike again, your eyes filled with a ruthless determination. "And I'll take it by any means necessary."
Becky's howl of pain echoed through the chamber as you crashed the pole into her injured arm once more, a vicious determination driving each strike. The chamber seemed to amplify her anguished cries, the sound bouncing off the steel walls in a haunting symphony. You didn't relent, your movements fueled by an unquenchable thirst for revenge, the need to make her suffer as you had suffered.
You finally stopped when Becky's body convulsed in agony, her voice hoarse from screaming. The once defiant and confident champion now lay broken and defenseless beneath your relentless assault. You threw the metal pole to the side, staring down at her with a mix of satisfaction and a lingering bitterness.
This was it. This was your moment. This was your time.
You hauled Becky up by her hair, her body limp and broken, and dragged her to the ring, pulling her lifeless form through the ropes. The audience watched in shocked silence as you tossed her into the ring, her body barely responsive to the impact against the mat.
With a cold determination, you climbed into the ring, standing over Becky's battered form. The taste of vengeance was bitter on your tongue, but it was the only thing that gave you a semblance of satisfaction amidst the turmoil within. The desire for retribution had driven you to this point, and there was no turning back.
"You did this to yourself." You stated coldly, gently cradling Becky's head in your hands, forcing her to look up at you. Her eyes, once full of fire and confidence, were now clouded with pain and fear. But you felt no remorse, no empathy for the woman lying broken at your feet.
"This is what happens when you betray someone who trusted you, Becky," you continued, your voice laced with a chilling calmness. "You thought you could walk over me, but now, you lie here broken, defeated."
You pushed Becky's head back down to the mat with a disdainful shove, watching her writhe in pain. The taste of victory was bittersweet, the turmoil within you still raging despite the apparent domination you displayed.
"You said I was a sweet girl, Becky," you sneered, your voice tinged with contempt. "But you've awoken the darkness in me. And now, you'll pay the price."
You pulled her into a guittoine submission-courtesy of Roman- and tightened the hold with a sadistic grin, relishing in the agony evident on Becky's face and grabbing her injured arm and twisting it in a way that elicited a scream of agony from her.
"You made me this way, Becky!" Your voice echoed through the chamber, filled with a raw mixture of anger and vindication. "You made me unleash this darkness!"
You maintained the hold, ignoring the desperation in Becky's eyes, the pleas for mercy that fell on deaf ears. Every second felt like an eternity, and despite Becky's best efforts to resist, the pain and exhaustion took their toll. Her struggles weakened, her body succumbing to the relentless submission hold, and she tapped out in excruciating pain.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the match and your victory. The referee rushed in to separate you from Becky, who lay there, broken and defeated, the once-champion now a mere shadow of her former self.
But you didn't let go. You pushed at the security that tried to separate you, tightening even more and refusing to release the hold. The crowd's gasps turned into a chorus of boos as the officials struggled to pry you off, but your grip remained unyielding, a testament to the rage and vindictiveness that had consumed you.
"Let go, Y/N! You've won! It's over!" The referee's voice was a desperate plea, but you were deaf to reason. The need for retribution blinded you, overshadowing any semblance of rationality
"You see what you did?" You screamed at Becky, your voice filled with a chilling mix of triumph and fury.
"This is your fault! You made me do this!" The darkness was beginning to take over completely, clouding your thoughts and senses. The chaos around you seemed distant as you held on to the submission, refusing to release Becky even as she lay there, gasping for air, her face contorted in agony.
"Pretty girl, it's finished, you did it! Let her go!"
That was the only warning you got before Jey's arms wrapped around your waist and forcefully pulled you off of Becky, breaking the hold. You let Jey drag you away, the remnants of your dark rage still coursing through your veins. This was the backup plan- if you were too deep in your own darkness, Jey would be there to pull you back. You relaxed into his embrace, the remnants of your rage simmering beneath the surface but still boiling.
"You won. You did it, you won!" Jey exclaimed into your ear, attemtping to bring you back to reality. You managed a smile, a twisted satisfaction lingering on your lips.
"Gimme her fucking title!" You heard Jimmy arguing with the ref, and looked up to see him holding the Raw Women's Championship, a smile on his face as he moved towards you.
"You fucking won!" Jimmy cheered, hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground in celebration. Elation and adrenaline is all you felt as you hugged him back tightly before he set you down, handing you your Raw Women's Championship.
The gold felt cold against your skin, a tangible symbol of the victory you had fought so ruthlessly for. The cheers from the audience were a distant hum as you clutched the title, a dark satisfaction washing over you.
"I won." You whispered softly, but Jey heard you. He smiled softly at you- you finally did it, finally captured the championship you sought so relentlessly.
"You did, and you deserve it." He opened his arms for you, and you didn't think twice before falling into the embrace, the chaotic storm within you weirdly subsiding slightly when you fell into his arms. You didn't have time to dwell on it before he pulled away and gently cupped your face in his hands. "You deserve it. Now show everyone why you the champ."
You looked down at the Raw Women's Championship in your hands, the gold reflecting the dim lights of the chamber, and held it high above your head, the sinister satisfaction still lingering in your eyes.
You finally had what you wanted, the Raw Women's Championship, and the whole women's locker room fearing your name. You didn't care if they respected you, because fear was the true power.
Jimmy and Jey stood on either side of you, holding up their hands in a one sign, the three of you standing tall, an embodiment of ruthless dominance, and leaving more questions than answers in the minds of the WWE Universe.
Why were you with the Bloodline? Why did you unleash such brutality on Becky Lynch? Why were Jimmy and Jey by your side in this calculated rampage?
They'd get their answers soon.
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"You did good. I'm proud of you." Roman smiled at you with a hint of approval  and something else you couldn't pick up on as you came to the back, bringing you into a dark embrace. "You showed them what it means to be a true champion," he continued, his voice low and resonant. "No one will underestimate you again."
You nodded at Roman when he pulled away from you, the darkness in his eyes mirroring the intensity you felt within yourself. "I appreciate it, Roman. It's just the beginning. There's a lot more they haven't seen yet." Your voice held a quiet determination, the fire within you still burning bright. Roman nodded in understanding, a sense of mutual understanding passing between the two of you.
Roman turned to Jimmy and Jey, who were standing next to you with a mix of satisfaction, concern, and pride. "You guys need to deliver too. Jey, get ready for your match. Jimmy, go back to the locker room, I'll take Y/N to the trainers and we'll be back."
Jey furrowed his brows at Roman's command, a slight tension in the air. "You sure you're good, Y/N?" he asked, his concern genuine.
You gave a nod, the dark satisfaction still lingering in your eyes. "I'm fine, Jey. Just go out there and do what you do best. We'll handle the aftermath later."
Jey was confused at Roman's decision. Roman never offered to take someone to the trainers unless there was a significant reason. He didn't think it was smart to have your anger clash with Roman's but he trusted Roman's judgment and giving you one last hug, headed towards the entrance ramp for his match.
Roman  led you towards the trainers' area, his steps deliberate and his expression unreadable. Anyone who tried to cross your path would be stopped by Roman's glare that cut through the air like a knife. As you walked side by side with Roman, you couldn't help but feel a sense of validation. You had proven your worth in the most brutal way possible, and now you were under the protection of the Tribal Chief himself.
The trainers' room was a mix of antiseptic smells and the low hum of conversations. The medical staff looked up as Roman entered, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you, still in your ring gear, holding the Raw Women's Championship. Roman's presence demanded respect, and they quickly shuffled to clear a space for you.
Roman gestured for you to take a seat on one of the medical benches. "Sit down. Let them check you out," he commanded, his voice carrying a stern authority.
The trainers approached cautiously, assessing the visible signs of the intense match you had just endured. They checked for any potential injuries, bruises, or signs of a concussion, but you remained stoic and unresponsive to their efforts. Roman observed with a watchful eye, ensuring that everything was done to his satisfaction.
As the medical staff continued their examination, Roman's gaze never wavered from you. There was a complex mix of emotions in his eyes—pride, perhaps a hint of admiration, and something else that remained elusive. He didn't say much, but his silent presence spoke volumes.
"Don't do that." He piped up when you tried to calm your anger down slightly, his voice cutting through the silence in the room.
"What?" you asked, genuinely confused.
"Don't try to suppress it. Embrace it," Roman said, his tone unwavering. "You showed them what you're capable of tonight. Let that darkness fuel your dominance. The more they fear you, the more control you have. I need that tonight."
You nodded at Roman's cold wisdom, but furrowed your brows at his last sentence. "What do you mean, 'I need that tonight'?"
Roman's expression remained enigmatic, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. "You trust me right? Trust our friendship?"
You nodded slowly, uncertain about where this conversation was heading but choosing to trust Roman's judgment. "Of course, Roman. You know I do."
"And I've never betrayed you, right?" 
You stared into Roman's eyes, searching for any hidden motives. "No, Roman. You've always had my back."
"Good." Roman's smile deepened, revealing a rare sense of camaraderie. "Tonight, you've proven yourself. Now, I need you to trust me a little more. I have a plan, and I need you to play a crucial part in it. Can I count on you?"
You studied Roman's face, his eyes holding a mysterious glint. "Of course, Roman. I trust you," you replied, determination in your voice. "Whatever you need, I'm in."
Roman's smile widened. "Against my better judgement, and my ego, I know that Kevin will be the one to win that number one contender's match against Jey tonight. I need him to be the one challenging for my Universal Championship. But I also need him softened up, vulnerable. That's where you come in."
Roman's plan started to unfold, and you listened intently to his instructions. As he laid out the details, you realized the significance of your role in the larger scheme. The darkness within you, the dominance you had displayed in the Elimination Chamber, was now a strategic asset for Roman's plan.
"I need you to make a statement, Y/N. Show everyone in that match, and especially Kevin Owens, that you're not just a champion—they should fear you," Roman explained, his voice a low rumble that resonated with authority.
"I know you and Kevin have a history, and you and Sami as well. But when the cards are on the table, Kevin will always choose to backstab you. Will always choose to betray you. How many years have you given him chances? How many times has he let you down?"
Roman's words resonated, stirring up the memories of past betrayals and the pain that accompanied them. 
"When was the last time you gave him a chance and he didn't disappoint?" Roman's question hung in the air, the weight of the truth behind it sinking in. "This is your opportunity, Y/N. Take it. Show everyone that you're not to be taken lightly, and in doing so, finally get the revenge for the years of betrayals. And as for Sami-"
Roman sensed your smoldering anger and paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
"Sami Zayn is an annoyance, a distraction. He might be your friend, so I am giving you the leniency to deal with him swiftly, efficiently. But what matters is  making it clear that anyone who stands in your way will face the consequences."
If you were in any other mental state, and didn't feel the smoldering anger  within you, you would have hesitated and questioned Roman's motives, told him you wouldn't hurt your best friends.
But in this current state, you couldn't think clearly. The darkness within you, fueled by the betrayal and the desire for retribution, clouded your judgment, and Roman's words only resonated and fueled that anger.
And that was Roman's plan all along.
Make you so angry and unleashing that dark side so that you couldn't see your morals in jeapordy, the bigger picture, couldn't question the morality of the actions he was asking you to take. In that moment, you were a pawn in his game, a tool to achieve his objectives.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but trust me, Y/N. This is the path we need to walk to secure our dominance," Roman concluded, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that brooked no argument. "As long as you're with me, as long as you embrace that darkness within you, there's nothing we can't achieve."
You nodded, a cold determination settling within you. The darkness, once a mere undercurrent, now surged to the forefront, shaping your thoughts and actions. "I'm with you, Roman. Whatever it takes to secure our dominance."
Roman clasped your shoulder, a silent acknowledgment passing between the two of you. "Get ready, Y/N. Go to Jimmy. It's time to make a statement."
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You watched on the screen as the Men's Elimination Chamber match was taking place, bodies being violently thrown against the steel, the carnage unfolding inside the chamber. The raw aggression and brutality were palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had set the tone for the night.
Jey, Sami, Kevin, Daniel Bryan, and Cesaro were all engaged in a fierce battle for the opportunity to challenge Roman Reigns for the Universal Championship. As the chaos unfolded, you could feel the anticipation building, knowing that your part in Roman's plan was about to come into play.
You winced as Kevin tossed Sami into the steel structure, the impact echoing through the arena. Jimmy patted your back as a silent comfort, and Roman turned to you at the movement. 
"You see what he does to his so called best friends, Y/N?" Roman's voice held a mix of disdain and calculated satisfaction. "This is your chance to make them understand, to make Kevin Owens understand, that betrayal comes with consequences."
You nodded in agreement, your eyes fixed on the screen as the chaos continued to unfold. You let out a sigh of relief as Kevin hit Sami with a stunner to pin him for the three count. At least you didn't have to hurt your Sami directly, but the next part of Roman's plan was now in motion.
Cesaro and Bryan were fighting on the top of one of the pods, each trying to gain the upper hand. Kevin and Jey were slamming each other into the steel cage, the sounds of bodies colliding reverberating through the arena. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and Roman's plan was inching closer to its climax.
1.
Cesaro was pinned by Daniel, who had just delivered a brutal running knee. The referee counted, and Cesaro was eliminated.
2. 
Jey managed to eliminate Daniel Bryan with a superkick, leaving only Kevin Owens and Jey Uso as the remaining competitors.
3.
Kevin hit a Pop-up Powerbomb on Jey Uso followed by a stunner, securing the victory and earning the right to challenge Roman Reigns for the Universal Championship.
"Now!" Roman roared at you, a command that snapped you out of your intense focus on the screen.
 It was time.
Jey, angry after being eliminated, stomped on Kevin, not allowing him a moment of respite after the grueling match. You followed Roman's lead, storming down the ramp with a determined stride and Jimmy right behind you.
Jey had Kevin trapped in between the steel steps and the chamber wall, delivering relentless stomps and kicks. The exhaustion from the match was evident on Kevin's face, but the anger in Jey's eyes fueled the assault.
"Y/N, make your move," Roman's voice echoed through the arena, urging you to unleash the darkness within.
“Y/N!” Jey screamed through the cell, beckoning you to join him.
 You looked to Roman; and any slight hesitation you might’ve had was washed away by the adrenaline coursing through your veins and Roman’s relentless gaze that was a silent demand for loyalty. If you backed out now, the consequences were grave. 
You stepped into the chamber, the cold steel beneath your boots sending shivers up your spine. Jey motioned for you to come closer to him, and it was like he sensed your inner conflict, giving you a comforting and encouraging look.
The anticipation in the air was palpable as you approached Jey, the steel structure enclosing both of you in a sinister dance of betrayal and loyalty.
“Do it!” Jey roared, his eyes filled with intensity. He kicked Kevin to make sure he stayed down before turning back to you, holding the steel doors open. “Do it, Y/N!”
And for just a second, you felt the weight of the moment, torn between loyalty and the darkness Roman demanded. You were sobered from the darkness, and for a split second, you stared at Kevins face, and wondered, just wondered, if the roles were switched, if Kevin would choose you. 
And just like that, the moment ended. 
“Ahh!” Kevin groaned out in pain when you took over from Jey, and just like you did with Becky, slammed the steel cage into Kevin’s arm, the steel deliciously meeting flesh.
 The impact reverberated through the chamber, a savage exclamation of your allegiance to the Tribal Chief. You slammed the steel into his arm over and over again, yelling at Kevin to stay down. 
“I told you to stay out of my business!” You screamed with each vicious strike, the sound echoing in the unforgiving steel chamber. “I told you to stay away from Roman! But you never listen!”
 Your voice was filled with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration, the echoes bouncing off the cold steel walls. “You never listen to me! You never CHOOSE ME!” 
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You rammed the steel cage into Kevin's arm one final time before letting go of the steel, leaving him writhing in pain on the unforgiving steel floor. You were breathing just as heavily as you ran your hands across the cold steel cage, the darkness within you pulsating with a newfound intensity. 
Your loyalty to Roman was now etched in the vicious strikes you delivered to Kevin. The symbolism of the steel meeting flesh resonated with the dominance Roman sought, and you had become the instrument of his will.
Jey wrapping an arm around your shoulder jolted you out of your thoughts, and you looked up at him, meeting his beautiful brown eyes that no longer held fear about your loyalty.  
The Tribal Chief stood outside the chamber, a satisfied smirk on his face, witnessing the culmination of your allegiance. The crowd's mixed reactions were drowned out by the satisfaction in Roman's gaze.
 Jey squeezed your shoulder and brought you closer to him as Roman made his way towards the ring, the Universal Championship draped over his shoulder. 
“I’m proud of you.” Jey whispered into your ear, his words barely audible over the fading echoes of the chaos you had unleashed. His lips grazed your ear, and the tension in the chamber slowly shifted to a moment of eerie calm. “Kevin didn’t pick you, but I chose you, Y/N.”
You know this is the part where the guilt should hit you, but it didn’t. Why would you feel guilty? You warned Kevin that you were a force to be reckoned with, that loyalty to Roman Reigns was your priority.
And what did he do?
Kevin defied your warnings, and now he had to pay the price. And you knew that if the roles were reversed and you were in Kevin's place, he wouldn't have shown you any mercy. 
So why should you extend a courtesy he wouldn't offer?
You would only feel guilty if you hurt Sami, and thankfully Sami was eliminated before the crucial moment.  Was it fate? You didn’t know. But what you did know was that you had proven your allegiance to Roman in the most brutal fashion, and you didn’t regret it one bit. 
Your head snapped towards Roman when he entered the ring, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. The Tribal Chief's presence commanded attention, and he nodded approvingly at the scene before him—the aftermath of your loyalty displayed in a brutal ballet of steel and flesh.
"You've made the right choice," Roman declared, his voice authoritative. He brought you into a dominant embrace, his hand gripping the back of your neck. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the satisfaction of a plan executed flawlessly. “I’m proud of you. Do you acknowledge me?”
You pulled away from Roman, a cold determination in your eyes. "I acknowledge you, Tribal Chief," you responded, the weight of those words resonating with a sense of finality.
Roman smiled at your words, a predatory glint in his eyes. His plan had come to fruition, and now he held not only the Universal Championship but also an unwavering allegiance from you, and that would not only hurt Kevin physically, but also leave an indelible mark on his psyche, solidify his dominance in the WWE and also secure your place by his side.
And that was the night you fully embraced the darkness, fully committing to Roman Reigns as the Tribal Chief.
"You wanted a match with me, Kevin?" Roman continued, tauntingly addressing the writhing Kevin Owens on the cold steel floor. He leaned down, his face inches from Kevin's, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
"Well, you got it. Get up." Roman straightened up, never breaking eye contact with Kevin. "Jey, Jimmy, grab him. Y/N, stand back," Roman commanded, and you complied without hesitation.
Jey and Jimmy, sensing Roman's desire for a prolonged punishment, dragged Kevin up. The once defiant fighter now seemed broken and battered, a shell of his former self.
Roman circled Kevin like a predator closing in on its prey. He reveled in the moment, savoring the defeat he orchestrated. The crowd's cheers or jeers were inconsequential; all that mattered was the dominance he asserted over the WWE and the loyalty you had pledged.
Jey and Jimmy lowered Kevin to the ground on his knees, and Roman chuckled at the pitiful sight before him. The Tribal Chief stood tall, the Universal Championship glistening in the harsh arena lights. Roman's eyes bore into Kevin, the intensity of his gaze almost suffocating.
"Look at me." When Kevin refused to comply, Roman harshly yanked Kevin's face up by his hair. "I said, look at me."
Kevin's eyes met Roman's, a mix of defiance and pain still lingering. Roman chuckled again, a dark amusement coloring the sound.
"You thought you could beat me? Challenge me? Take my place?" Roman's voice dripped with disdain, his words a venomous reminder of the consequences of defiance. "You never had a chance, Kevin."
With a swift motion, Roman delivered a thunderous Superman Punch, the impact sending Kevin sprawling to the mat. The crowd's reactions were drowned out by the dominant presence of the Tribal Chief.
"Your mistake was not acknowledging me," Roman continued, pacing around the fallen Kevin. "You see, Y/N understands. Loyalty is everything. And you seriously thought she would choose you over me when you have no loyalty? When you betrayed her trust time and time again?" Roman's voice was filled with a cold certainty, his words cutting through the air like a razor.
"I might hurt her, but I won't let anyone else hurt her." Kevin spat blood onto the cold steel floor, his defiance unwavering even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Roman chuckled at Kevin's feeble attempt to maintain his pride.
"You think she believes you Kevin? Look at her." Kevin weakly raised his head to glance at you. The conflict in your eyes was replaced with a steely resolve, a clear reflection of the choice you had made. Roman's smirk widened at the sight, the confirmation of your allegiance bringing him a sense of triumph.
"She will never forgive you. She will never be by your side again, she will never be your best friend again. And you know whose fault it is that she choose me? You." Roman laughed, a sinister satisfaction in his tone. "You pushed her away, and now she's where she belongs."
"You see, Y/N," Roman said, turning his attention to you, "this is the price of betrayal. Loyalty is not just a word; it's an action. And tonight, you've shown where your allegiance lies."
He gestured for you to step forward, and you did so with a mix of pride and reluctance. Roman handed you the Universal Championship, the weight of the title in your hands a symbolic gesture of your newfound allegiance.
"Finish it," Roman commanded, his eyes locked onto yours. The crowd's murmurs and gasps filled the arena as you stood over Kevin, holding the championship that now represented your loyalty to the Tribal Chief.
Your eyes locked with Kevins, and you could see the pain and betrayal in his gaze. The conflict within you briefly resurfaced, but Roman's dominance held you in its grip.
"You're not their blood, and even if you were, they'd never treat you like family." Kevin coughed out, his words strained. The bitter taste of defeat mixed with defiance lingered in the air.
"And you are?" You spat at him, the darkness within you responding to Roman's influence. The crowd's boos and cheers seemed distant, drowned out by the intensity of the moment.
"You know the answer to that." Kevin's voice trembled with a mix of pain and disappointment, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. For a second, you hesitated, the weight of Kevin's words lingering in the air. But then, as if on cue, Roman's gaze bore into yours, a silent command to complete your task.
You slammed the title onto Kevin's face with a resounding thud, making him crumple to the mat, sealing your fate with Kevin's defeat.
Roman laughed proudly, raising your hand along with the Universal Championship. The arena erupted in a mix of cheers and boos, but none of it mattered in the face of the dominance Roman had asserted, and you had willingly embraced.
"Ring the bell." Roman ordered at the referee outside the ring, who seemed hesitant but complied with Roman's command. Roman easily pinned Kevin for the three-count, making Kevin's efforts in vain.
The referee signaled for the bell, declaring Roman Reigns the winner, the Universal Champion who had not only conquered Kevin Owens physically but also broken his spirit in the most ruthless manner with you by his side.
You had done it. Proven your loyalty, passed the test, proven that you are the champion you said you are, and that you were willing to go to any lengths for the Tribal Chief.
And as you stared at Kevin lying defeated on the cold steel mat, the red blood drying on his face, your own title wrapped around your waist, you felt a surge of power, the intoxicating allure of victory and loyalty.
You looked down at the red stained title in your hands, the metallic taste of triumph in the air.
Red.
Red was definitely your favorite color now.
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"I think we gotta talk about us now." Jey moaned out as you straddled his waist and kissed down his neck in the confines of your hotel room, high on adrenaline and power. The room was dimly lit, and the shadows played on the walls, mirroring the complexities of the choices you had made in the ring.
"Later." You sucked on the sweet spot on his neck, hoping to distract him from the conversation you needed to have. The taste of victory still lingered on your lips, and the primal energy from the ring had seeped into the intimacy of the hotel room.
Jey's hands gripped your hips, his breath hitching at your touch. "Wait, wait-fuck." Jey groaned as you licked a stripe on his chest, savoring the lingering taste of triumph.
"Y/N," he managed to say, catching your attention. You paused, looking into his eyes, the darkness within you still flickering like a flame.
"Is this not okay?" You asked softly, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline. Jey sighed, a mix of pleasure and contemplation in his eyes.
"It's more than okay. It's perfect," he admitted, his hands now cupping your face. "But you made a choice, a powerful one. You embraced the darkness for Roman, for us."
You leaned back, studying Jey's expression. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a desire to understand the depth of your commitment. "Jey, I did what I had to do. Roman needed me, and I made the right choice."
Jey nodded, but there was a hint of concern in his gaze. "Did you do it for just him, or for me too?"
You met Jey's gaze, your mind processing the weight of his question. The room, once filled with the aftermath of triumph, now felt heavy with unspoken truths. Your allegiance to Roman had solidified, but what did it mean for the connection you shared with Jey?
"I did it for both of you," you admitted, your voice steady. "I did it for the family, for the unity. Roman needed my loyalty, and in choosing him, I'm choosing all of us."
You shifted so that you were now sitting beside Jey, your fingers tracing abstract patterns on his chest. "I want to be with you, I want to have you in any way that you'll let me." You paused, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air. Jey remained silent, his eyes searching yours for sincerity.
"I want us to be powerful together, Jey," you continued, your voice a gentle whisper. "I don't want to lose what we have, but I had to prove myself to Roman, to the family. It doesn't change how I feel about you."
Jey sighed, his fingers gently grazing over your intertwined hands. "And how do you feel about me?"
You looked at him as if he should already know the answer. "Jey, I had the option to back away from all this, to grab that title and hit you with it, but I didn't. I chose this, I chose Roman, and I chose you. I feel… conflicted, yet empowered. This is the path I've taken, and I want you with me on this journey."
You tightened your grip on Jey's hand, seeking reassurance. "I like you, and I want us to be together. I want there to be an us. We can take it slow, I think we both need that after tonight."
Jey took in your words, the complexity of the situation reflected in his eyes. He nodded slowly, a mixture of understanding and acceptance in his expression. His beautiful brown eyes locked onto yours, and he brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.
"I'm with you, Y/N," Jey said, his voice a reassuring murmur. "Whatever path you choose, I'm riding with you. Just promise me one thing."
You looked at him, waiting for his request.
"No matter what happens, no matter what Roman says or does, you never turn your back on me." Jey squeezed your hand even tighter. "I've had too many people turn their backs on me, and I can't handle losing you like that. Even if Kevin and Sami try to drive a wedge between us, promise me you won't let them succeed."
Jey pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel the vulnerability in his plea. "Promise me you won't leave me."
"I promise, Jey," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "I won't turn my back on you. No matter what."
It felt like hours as you waited for Jey to respond. The room held its breath, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.
Finally, Jey broke out into a genuine, heartfelt smile, and in one swift motion, pulled you into his lap and brought you into a mind numbing kiss.
He licked at your lips, his hands exploring the contours of your body, a mixture of passion and reassurance in his touch. Every touch felt like heaven, every kiss felt like he was bringing you to life after the darkness of the ring.
"You can't leave me." That statement was backed up by the hard press of his lips against yours.
"I won't." A promise from you that was reassured with the soft caress of your tongue in his mouth. And for the rest of the night, the two of you lost yourselves in reassuring each other, not caring who heard or what consequences awaited in the world outside, and you realized that the anger subsided with every touch of his, and with every dampening of it came with an ease you only ever felt with one other person.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, that one other person stood outside your hotel room, heart dropping at the sounds of passion and commitment emanating from within. Sami had pretend to the hotel clerk that he was your manager, needing to check on you after the intense match.
The truth was, he wanted to make things right with you after seeing everything that happened tonight, wanted to try to get the woman he lov- the woman who was his best friend, back.
He had come bearing a bouquet of flowers, and two tickets to Montreal, to see your family that he knew you missed, ready to apologize and express his feelings. However, the sounds of intimacy between you and Jey shattered his hopes like fragile glass.
Sami's heart sank, realizing that he might have lost you for good. That should be him making you feel loved and wanted, not Jey. He leaned against the wall outside your room, the weight of the realization hitting him hard.
The bouquet of flowers in his hands and the gift bag suddenly felt like a pathetic offering in the face of the passion and commitment he could hear behind the door. The satisfaction he had at seeing Kevin broken in the ring was now overshadowed by the bitter taste of his own defeat in matters of the heart.
Sami took a deep breath, fighting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't bring himself to knock on the door, to interrupt the intimate moment between you and Jey.
Instead, he turned away, his steps heavy as he walked down the corridor, leaving the flowers and tickets at your doorstep, a silent acknowledgment of his failed attempt to win you back.
Before he went to the elevator, the sadness that enveloped him left and was replaced by motivation. You were his best friend, and he couldn't let this be the end. Sami would find a way to make things right, to prove to you that he could change and be the person you needed.
As the elevator doors closed, Sami took a deep breath, a determined glint in his eyes. He wasn't gonna let Jey win this without a fight. Sami had lost the battle tonight, but he was ready to wage a war for your heart.
Sami would do anything to make you see that he was the one who truly cared about you, who had been there for you through thick and thin, to have you in his life.
Even if that took hours, days months, or years, he would find a way to win you back. He had some business to take care of first with matters of the IC title, but eventually he would focus on winning back your heart.
Sami Zayn walked away from your hotel room, determined to prove that he was the one who deserved your loyalty and love.
And he would do anything, even join the Bloodline, to prove it.
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vampirenigh · 11 months
Text
Envy is useless
Sumarry: Someone talks bad about you in they're presence.
Characters: Ayato, Thoma, Kazuha, Gorou.
Warnings: Just some bad words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Masterlist
Ayato
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🎴It wasn't something that surprising to be honest. To be the fiance of the Kamisato Ayato and to not be judged seems a beautiful dream. You should've know better than to think that.
🎴But here you were with your fiance at a party with important people. Your lover said he would be with you the entire night but something came up and he had to go for a minute. And in that minute a girl came up to you.
🎴At first she was friendly but you should have known better than that again. Here everyone thinks only about themselves. But you were to late to see that. She already started insulting you.
🎴"I just don't understand how the Kamisato Ayato stepped so lowly to make you his fiance. Look at you. You can't even put make up and get dressed accordingly." That made you look at yourself and self doubt your tastes and your lovers who said it was a perfect choice. "You know? I know someone who is a lot better than you. You can't even talk for yourself don't you? You poor thing.. "
🎴 She wanted to make you cry. You were sure of it. But somehow you feel an arm go to your waist and a familiar scent in your nose.
🎴It was Ayato who heard everything that the girl said to you on his way back. He couldn't believe his ears. How can they talk so lowly to you?
🎴"Sorry to interrupt your conversation but I couldn't stay out of it any longer especially since someone started saying such nonsense. But I could be wrong. Could you repeat?" At that the lady went pale and started to shutter that she didn't do anything. "How strange of you to say that. I heard very clearly that you harrased my fiance here. And I'm going to give you a warning because your parents are very important partners for me. Now leave. "
🎴When the girl went away Ayato took your hand and got you out to look at the stars.
"Love I'm sorry for being so late at your rescue. Next time just leave the conversation immediately. Don't worry about the results. I will take care of it. And just know that you are perfect and that I love you a lot. I will never choose someone else over you."
Thoma
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🎋You and Thoma were out in town to buy some groceries for a new dish that you found from your friend. Thoma was very excited to try it out and that's why he said that he will pay for everything. You weren't on the same page with him and you told him that but he just said that you already will cook for him so to pay is the only thing he can do.
🎋This little thing that Thoma did for you started to attract the attention of two girls who liked Thoma for quite some time and feel offended that he buys you things and not them.
🎋"Do you see that girl Thoma buys things for? What a gold digger she is. Can't she just buy them for herself?" "I bet she is with him just for his money."
🎋That little altercation took your attention and Thomas too because he went rigid right next to you. He didn't want to make you feel bad. He just wanted to make something cute for you. He didn't want to inconvenience you any further. You helped him a lot with his chores and when he felt down. That's why he wanted to make something nice for you.
🎋And because he was so angry he didn't care about his image that he worked so hard for and started talking some sense into them.
🎋"Do you even hear yourselves talking? How dare you say something so hurtful to someone like Y/n?! She is a beautiful flower while you are just some thing on the street that no one observes and you think that you are better than anyone. But flash news. You aren't." He would've continued if you weren't there to get him out of that disaster and get him to leave with you.
🎋The two girls started crying and started to ran away from the scene leaving the people surprised.
🎋On the way back to your home people said to Thoma that it was very right what he did and he was very brave to step up for his lover. But Thoma didn't care about what they were saying. What he cared about is your perspective.
"Darling I'm sorry for the scene from earlier I just couldn't keep myself calm and- What? You think that I was very cool and brave? I don't think so that much but thank you. And do not believe what people like them say about you. They are just jealous. And don't be sorry about my reputation because something else will came up in no time and people will forget about it."
Kazuha
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🍃 Kazuha was with you all morning and you couldn't understand why. When you asked him about it he said that he feels that something will happen. Something bad. And that is better to be safe than sorry.
🍃And because of that feeling you got a clingy Kazuha with you all day long. Well you couldn't be mad at him because it was cute. He wanted to protect you even if neither of you didn't know of what.
🍃But after some time after you ended up all of your work you sat down with Kazuha on the ship and looked at the sea.
🍃But the two new boys that were just let on the ship for the first time started looking at you. You didn't observe anything and continued to feel the wind. But Kazuha is a different story. He saw everything and every look that they were throwing at you. And when they started talking he swore he could see red in front of his eyes.
🍃"Who let that girl on the ship? They don't know that managing a ship isn't a work for a girl? A girls work is in the kitchen." Kazuha couldn't believe his ears. We're they making discrimination because of your gender? But before Kazuha could think further the other guys started saying something too. "You're totally right. But a girls work is also in bed don't you think? And look at these poor ropes that she did. At a storm they will go just like that."
🍃Just a few moments after he was done with his ramble the guy felt a strong wind that trowed him in the water. To his luck the ship was staying in the same spot and he could climb up again. When he was up he was meet with a pissed Kazuha.
🍃"Do you want to be thrown in the water again? Or your mind came back to you now? How dare you make discrimination just because of the gender of my lover? Who bringed you on the ship? Wasn't Beidou? You know that she is a girl? Are you gonna say that she isn't good as a captain? Now scram from my face before I throw you in the water before we get to the next stop."
🍃The two quickly went away and Kazuha went back to you.
"I was sure something was gonna happen. I'm happy that I was here when it happened and that I wasn't just paranoid. They don't know a thing about a ship and about you. How can they say such things when they are the guests and this is your home too... Oh yeah I'm good don't worry Dove. Now let me tell you a poem so you can forget about those idiots."
Gorou
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🦊Gorou was on a rare day of and decided to spend it with you because he started to miss you especially since he was on a long mission on which he couldn't contact you.
🦊But while he was excitedly walking beside you he heard two girls talking.
🦊Did you see the girl the general is with? Is he blind? Can't he see that she is just so ugly? When he wasn't here for a month I thought that he broke up with her. What a shame... " "Yeah I know. Just look at her hair. When was the last time she washed it?"
🦊How dare they talk like that about you? You didn't wash your hair because he didn't want to be away from you for even a second and he didn't let you go to the bathroom. So when he looked at the two girls who were talking about you he couldn't belive his eyes. They were his subordinates. He didn't even miss one second more and went to them.
🦊"What are you doing here?" The girls went rigid and started stutering that they were just taking a walk. "What a coincidence... I was taking one with my lover and I heard some strange things" The girls swallowed slowly. "I'm not gonna beat around the bush anymore. You two are out of my team and I don't want to see your faces ever again! Do not dere say something like this about her ever again!"
🦊The girls ran in shame and Gorou went back to you like nothing happened.
"It was nothing Dear. They just needed to hear the truth. Don't worry about it too much. I only love you and I will never leave you. Now let's go and get some dango. I know it's your favorite."
Hello. If you have any ideas about scenarios please send an ask. I have a request list from where you can choose. I don't have that many ideas and I have one more fic to make from the ideas I have till now. Thank you in advance.
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