#they were so toxic in the beginning yet so amazing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadeysprings · 7 months

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So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway.

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you.

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you.

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does.

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint.

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot.

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you.

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same.

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head.

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively.

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker.

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car.

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving.

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road.

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot.

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life.

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?”

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again.

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek.

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck.

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh.

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic.

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan.

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do.

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face.

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected.

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies.

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do.

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand.

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in.

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way.

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground.

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out.

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one.

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses.

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied.

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet.

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints.

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them.

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz.

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner.

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment.

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin.

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss.

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you.

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into.

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend.

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room.

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale.

“I was at a party—”

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x f!reader #so good so bad #the gray man #chris evans characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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misseviehyde · 5 months

Text

HAIR-SPRAY

Being a smart person meant you could usually figure out a solution to any problem.

For instance, Clara and her friends had worked out how to create an allergenic hair-spray to force their bullies hairasite to split from her head.

In aersol form - it was the only substance yet found that could force a hairasite to split from a host and one blast was enough to divide the symbiotic relationship.

Hairasites were living creatures that attached themselves to a hosts head and transformed them into an evil bitch. The process began when you placed it on your head and by all accounts was highly pleasurable. The hairasite would merge and begin to corrupt you at once, altering your very DNA and causing chromonsonal and hormonal changes that could only be reversed by removing it.

Your brain chemistry would alter so that doing naughty and bad things would make you feel good. The hairasite would enhance your ego and warp you into a cruel mean bully who always got what she wanted. It would make you want to be a bratty bitch and fuel an obsession for sex, power and money.

Super hormones would pump round your body making you more feminine, more beautiful. Cheek bones would rise, breasts would grow, asses would inflate. The hairasite would turn you into the idealised form of toxic femininity. You would become a hot smirking bitch with a tight pussy and an impossible level of beauty and charisma, making others want to serve you.

Removing a hairasite was almost impossible and the longer it was attached, the more it and it's host became as one. That was why the hair-spray was so amazing. One short blast of the allergens caused the living hairasite to detach and fall off, harmlessly neutralising it and the host it was using.

A few days ago Clara and her friends had tried the spray and overnight they had stripped the bully of her power, turning her back into a normal girl and removing her hairasite.

Her friends had wanted to burn the evil creature, especially her bestie Josie, (who had been bullied the most) but Clara had convinced them to place the hairasite in a container for further study.

Now it sat in a glass jar on her desk as she examined a single strand of it and tried to work out how to make the allergens even more effective. She assumed the strand was dead - separated from the main clump of hairasite.

Holding the wisp of hair up using tweezers to get a better view of it, Clara was suddenly shocked and surprised when it burst into sudden life and breaking free of her tweezers leapt and rooted into her own scalp.

For a moment she was terrified, but then she took a deep breath. Not to panic. It was only a single strand of hairasite and she could remove it with the spray. She reached for the can.

But wait...

Wasn't this a perfect opportunity to safely find out how the hairasite bonding process worked and develop a better response? After all one strand couldn't hurt her right?

A warm pleasurable feeling was coming from her head. She felt delicious and wondered what the hairasite was doing to her brain chemistry.

She felt... she felt... horny. Mmmmh, maybe she should remove the strand? She hadn't expected it to work so fast. Her hand tightened on the can of allergens.

But now she was feeling something else. She was feeling arrogant. Her lips twisted into a smirking smile as a delicious feeling of superiority filled her. This was a new feeling and she should be cautious and yet...

Didn't she have a right to be arrogant? She was the one who had had the idea to create the aersol and she was the one who had been brave enough to use it. Hairasites held no fear for her. She was the Mistress here and this creature would never gain the upper hand on her.

In fact, she could probably control the power of a hairasite better than anyone else. She bet even if she attached the whole thing she could use it's power for good and stop herself being corrupted.

Of course she'd have to let it make SOME changes to her, but she was sure her willpower would be up to the task. It would be foolish not to take some advantages from wearing a hairasite. Imagine what she could let it do to her plain nerdy body?

Clara imagined what it would be like to be beautiful and sexy. She had always envied their bullies hot body and how popular she was. It didn't seem fair that nerds and smart girls like her should be treated as lesser than bitches like the bullies.

She imagined being slimmer, sexier, perkier with bigger boobs and a gorgeous face. She imagined being able to wear fashionable clothes and show off her skin. Mmmh she could even start talking in a slutty bratty voice like their bully used to.

She imagined having the confidence to get her nails done at the expensive nail bar in town, and go out on dates with the hot boys she'd always fantasized about. THEY'D be the ones queuing up to date HER.

Didn't she deserve to be beautiful and hot? If one strand of the hairasite could make her feel this good, imagine what the whole thing could do?

And after all, she could always remove it if it started to turn her evil. She had the hair spray and the hairasite knew it. Perhaps she could train and control the hairasite? Train it like a pet. Take all the positive effects and remove the negatives.

If anyone could do it, it would be her. She deserved this opportunity.

Dropping the can, Clara stood up. Her panties were drenched and her body was throbbing with lust. She knew what she needed to do. Picking up the glass container she unscrewed the top and reached carefully inside.

The hairasite coiled lovingly around her arm. It was so soft and sexy. She giggled and watched fondly as it flowed up her arm and she smile became euphoric. Yesssss this was her destiny.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she hissed as she felt it reach her head and leap into her hair.

A soft brunette plume of hair now hung from her head; silky and rich. The feeling of the hairasite was intoxicating. She shivered in pleasure. One strand had felt good, but this was fucking orgasmic.

"Yessss change me... come on... give it to me."

Clara moaned as she felt hormones surge round her body and the hairasite eagerly bonding with it's new host. She gasped as her bones popped and cracked and her frumpy nerd body straighened up and grew slimmer.

Her skin tanned and her flat boyish chest pushed out into perky cheerleader C-Cups. Her legs became longer and her face prettier as beautiful bitchy eyes with long lashes fluttered in pleasure and her new mean mouth curved into a true bitchy smile of bratty confidence.

"Mmmh like yeahhhh, this is soooo much better than like being a nerd."

Stretching her body, Clara admired how tanned and flexible she now was. The hairasite swayed with her motions, part of her head now. She looked fucking amazing. She looked like a bully.

Mmmmh, that was hot. Being a bully was so fucking great.

Clara laughed as she remembered how she had convinced herself she would use the hair spray if the hairasite turned her evil. Why would she do that? Being bad felt goooood. Her tight new pussy was already wet at the thought of being the centre of attention and bullying her former friends. That bitch Josie in particular had it coming. She had always been envious of Clara.

"Yessss make me a fucking bitch. Rewire my brain to make me really nasty, I LOVE this," giggled Clara. She stroked her hairasite lovingly. "Mmmh, you and I are going to make such a great team."

Her eyes fell onto the aerosol can and her bitchy mouth twitched in amusement. "Ohhh and don't worry about that, I have an idea."

*****

"Why isn't it working?" screamed Josie in horror as she blasted Clara's hair again with a concentrated dose of the aerosol and the evil bitch just smirked at her.

"Oh Josie, you fucking dumb loser. You have heard of antihistamines right? I just made a new hairspray that gives my hairasite complete immunity to that stupid spray. Ughhh it does itch a little though and it's making my beautiful hairasite all dry, so now I'm really fucking pissed off."

Clicking her fingers, Clara smirked as her former bullies friends... now her loyal clique of bitches closed ranks around her. "Girls grab her and hold her still. This little bitch tried to hurt my beautiful hairasite."

"Nooo Clara please. That thing is evil, this isn't you."

"Ohhhh this IS me loser. You have no idea how fucking good this feels. Now then..."

Reaching into her handbag Clara laughed evilly as she pulled out a pair of hair clippers and switched them to life.

"Right thenJosie... lets see what you look like without YOUR hair. You're gonna be such a laughing stock by the time I'm done."

And as Clara advanced on her helpless victim, she and the hairasite were now as one and it felt so fucking good.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #hairasite #f2f corruption #bully #corruption #evil bitch

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

The Story Of Them

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use, and Unhealthy/Toxic Relationship

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: They thought that their story was supposed to be a fairytale, but what happens when the universe is showing them signs that it isn't because of their vices. Should they keep fighting for them or should they let their story come to an end?

Masterlist

It’s like their relationship has bipolar disorder. One minute, they are in an argument worse than any world war. The next, they are manic in trying to be consumed by each other, not caring if they are reckless. They are each other’s first loves and hope to be their last, so they ignore the warning signs of an unhealthy relationship that they probably shouldn’t have. They both have their faults. Hers is her lack of communication and his being reliant on his addiction. If any of her friends are in a similar relationship as her, then she would be the first to warn them about the red flags. But for some reason, she is blinded from seeing those flags with Rafe. When they first started dating, everything was amazing. They were young and believed that it was them against the world. Their dates were full of laughter and innocent love. They thought that they could have that feeling forever; however, reality has a funny way of creeping in and crushing rose-coloured glasses under its boots. Even though Y/N and Rafe fall victim to this realization, they still hold onto each other because they are all that they know. Their story doesn’t have a happy ending, but at least they can say they had one to begin with. At least they can say they loved each other with a fiery passion that went out with a bang.

———

Even before they started dating, they weren’t allowed to have a sense of calm between them. Rafe didn’t know what it was about her. He’s never seen any other girl as more than someone to warm his bed; however, Y/N could never escape his thoughts, not through his dreams either. Could it be the way her fingertips graze the bottom of her dresses as she fiddles with it? Could it be because it doesn’t take just anything to elicit a laugh out of her? He really had to put thought into the jokes he told her to hear those delicious giggles. Or could it be that she wasn’t afraid to stand up to him or back down? No matter what it was, Rafe knew he wanted her to be a permanent fixture in his life. He approached her with jagged fingernails that he had to remember to file when he got home. She sat on a bench in front of the school, waiting as always for her brother to pick her up. He cleared his throat to catch her attention and she looked up from her phone with a small pout to her lips.

She was surprised to see him. They ran in the same social groups, yet interactions between the two were not very common. She had to admit he found a way to take the breath from her lungs, whether that be through making her laugh or a sweet action that surprised her. She didn’t think she could ever catch his eye. He was the most popular boy in school and she just hung out with the most popular girls. She was timid; not confident. She was quiet; not loud. She was stubborn; not docile. She was nothing like the popular girls and that was why she stood out to Rafe. It didn’t mean she thought she wasn’t like the other girls. She embraced her femininity and knew that in this large world, nothing she did could be unique from another human. It meant she recognized the fact of being different from the types of girls Rafe normally frequented, so she didn’t think she had a chance. She believed he hated her for those qualities. He wasn’t used to people disagreeing with him and this made her think he wouldn’t like her. She preferred to keep to herself during their group's social outings, so why would he notice her? Similar to the rest of the man-loving population of the school, Y/N had fallen for Rafe’s charm. Who didn’t love a man with a dazzling smile and who knew how to please a woman sexually? Fuckboy or not, the world couldn’t deny the fact that Rafe was the fixation of its attention.

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile. She got butterflies solely by the way he was looking at her, “Hi, can I help you with anything?” She didn’t meet his gaze as she pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. He gestured to the seat beside her. “Can I sit?” She nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for my brother.” “I know,” he admitted without any thought that he could be seen as a stalker because of his statement. Her head tilted to the side, “You do?”

“Uhhh, yep. I noticed because I see you getting into his car every day when I leave football practice.”

“Right, I guess it doesn’t take rocket science to figure that out.”

“No, it does not. I’m going to cut right to the chase before I lose my confidence. Y/N, will you go out on a date with me?”

Her lips parted slightly. “Date?” She knew he didn’t do dates and she wasn’t opposed to having a fling with him, except calling it a date gave her a promise of something else and she wanted to make sure they were on the same page. Nerves racked through him at her reaction. His diminishing nails came between his teeth to soothe him. “Uh, yeah. It could be dinner or a movie or go axe-throwing. Anything you want really,” he presented, lifting a finger at each activity. “I know what a date is. I was just wondering if the activities would be done so you can end up in my pants. It’s okay if you only want to have sex, just don’t pretend you want more,” she clarified. Her vision dropped to the floor and she observed a ladybug crawling in front of her. Ladybugs were a sign of good luck, so it tricked her into thinking this had a favourable ending. Rafe’s smile fell, “Wow, I can’t believe you think so lowly of me.” She tried to backtrack to explain herself. He pushed her shoulder, “I’m just kidding. I know I’m not known for wanting to commit to a woman. I think you are different. I can see myself getting married to you, Love.” “You aren’t lying because going on a date means you are open to the idea of devoting yourself to me. Are you sure you are ready for that?” she verified, meeting his eyes.

He agreed, “I am fully prepared to be yours.” She couldn’t be happier. The man she liked wanted to be with her. “Then I would happily go on a date with you.” It was a dream come true.

This feeling quickly changed the next day. She was at her locker when she heard the rumour. “I heard Rafe had sex with Y/N yesterday,” a freshman muttered to her friend behind her hand. It was still loud enough for her to hear. Fury devoured her. He said he wanted a relationship with her and he lied. Why else would he go around telling people they slept together? She knew that rumours have a way of snowballing, yet she decided not to go to Rafe to discuss this issue. Instead, she did what she did best and iced him out of her life.

Rafe didn’t understand why she wasn’t answering his texts until he heard the whispers himself. “Crap. Crap. Crap,” he swore, leaving football practice. She probably thought the words were his truth and that is why she was angry with him. He didn’t take the time to take a shower and get his stuff. He could do that tomorrow. What was important was that he cleared the air with Y/N. She wasn’t on her normal bench in front of the school, so he assumed she must have gone home already. He drove as fast as he could without breaking any laws to verify his conclusion. She sat on the porch swing, swinging with the wind. Her gaze was fixed out towards the street. At the sight of him, she got up from her seat and headed inside. “Love, wait,” he pleaded, jogging up the porch to catch up with her. His foot wedges between the closing door and the door frame. He followed her into the house. She continued to ignore him and went up to her room. Once enclosed in the privacy of her room, she turned toward him with annoyance in her eyes. “I could call the police on you for trespassing,” she warned. Her arms crossed over each other. Rafe’s jaw clenched, “Go ahead. See if I care. I need to talk to you.” “You don’t get to barge in here and order me around,” she complained.

“I can if you aren’t listening to me. I assume you’ve heard the gossip about us and we need to talk about it.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you. You lied and I’m not naive enough to give you a chance.”

“WE NEED TO TALK. WHAT THEY SAID DIDN’T COME FROM ME!”

She leaned back at his yell, “I don’t like it when you talk to me like that. It goes to show that you aren’t mature enough to be in a relationship. His head moved from side to side as he let out a low chuckle. “You seriously are calling me immature when you are the one who doesn’t even want to talk. That’s childish,” he responded. She pointed at the door, “If I’m so immature, then we don’t have to go on that date anymore. I don’t want to date someone who is a liar and a juvenile.” Rafe stormed out of the room with a slam of the door, not before snarking. “Gladly. I don’t want anything to do with you either.”

———

Y/N remembered the first time she realized she was in love with Rafe. They went on a date eventually and it had been the beginning of their story as a couple. Flowers. Giggling. Kisses. Hand Holding. It all made them feel as though they were on cloud nine. So far, there had only been small fights in between since their argument about the hearsay about menial things, such as where to eat or who has to pay. The first notion of her being in love with him popped into her mind while he was on the football team. They had been playing against their rivals of Kildare County and the students of Kildare Academy were cheering in hopes of encouraging the team to get a lead on the other team. Per his request, Y/N was in the front row, wearing his jersey. Her voice attempted to be louder than anyone else in the crowd. Rafe was thrown the ball and as the clock got closer to zero, he dashed toward the endzone. He masterfully dodged every opposing player who tried to tackle him, making it to his destination. He slammed the ball into the ground and cheered in victory. The air horn singalling the end of the game blasted through the air. Rafe secured the win.

It wasn’t the win that guaranteed her heart; it was being the first person he wanted to celebrate it with that gave him her heart. Whilst the rest of his team ran to congratulate him, he had his path set on someone in the stands. He began his jog, throwing off his helmet onto the grass. Y/N ran to the fence separating the benches from the field and Rafe climbed up it to meet her. His hand cupped her cheek to pull her into a kiss. She moved her lips against his and her fingers ran through his hair. The roar of the people dulled to the buzzing of a bee. All she smelt was the sweat that had started to accumulate on his skin. The world ceased to exist when his lips were on hers. “I love you,” she mumbled against his petals. “I love you too.”

The euphoric feeling died that night as well. That same night was when she also realized whatever she had with Rafe didn’t have a chance at forever. No matter how much they both wanted it to. They had gone to the after-party to celebrate their triumph and Rafe had promised her he wouldn’t drink that much. He was supposed to drive them home at the end of the night. In all honesty, since the party was at Topper’s, she didn’t mind if he drank because they could stay in one of the guest bedrooms as a last resort. The discovery of their ending being bound came with what an inebriated Rafe executed thanks to the drink. Y/N’s front pressed against Rafe’s side. She was swaying her hips and his head bopped, pressing the lip of his solo cup between his. Robin bumped into Y/N and his drink poured all over her back. She flew into Rafe’s hold to escape the fizzy drink. The man repeated his apologies, ripping off a piece of paper towel from the counter behind him. Y/N reassured him that it was okay and took the towels he offered to dry herself off. Rafe wasn’t forgiving like his girlfriend and the alcohol in his veins meant his hot-tempered personality was even easier to trigger. He yanked himself away from Y/N. His feet lead him so his chest is pressed against the other male’s. “Watch where you are going, asshole,” he growled.

Y/N placed a hand on Rafe’s chest to separate the two. “Honey, leave it. It was an accident.” Rafe disregarded her words, cocking his face at the blank face on the boy’s face. His fist collides with that face. Robin stumbled back from the force and his nose started bleeding profusely. Rafe provided no time for the bleeding man to recuperate.

Rafe dove onto Robin and knocked them both onto the ground. Robin’s head banged again and again against the floor. The party-goers fled the area to give the fight space. Y/N jumped onto Rafe’s back and tried to peel him off of the smaller boy. “Honey! Get off of him. Please, you are going to kill him. Look how much he is hurt already,” she shrieked. Tears ran down her face. His drunken state focused his attention on the source of his rage. Not his girlfriend’s pleas. The attack was ended only with the help of Topper and Kelce; they dragged their friend away from the injured boy. Y/N rushed to check on Robin with concerns. Not solely because he was a victim of her boyfriend’s anger, but because if he died it would be bad for Rafe. This made Rafe see red and he sped to his girlfriend. His hand circled her bicep in a vice, wrenching her to her feet. She was jerked toward the stairs leading upstairs. He threw her into one of the empty bedrooms before slamming the door shut. His eyes bore into her, “Why the fuck were you so worried about him? Are you cheating on me with him?” “How can you say that? You beat him like he was dough, so I had to make sure he didn’t die,” she yelled back. Her face was now streaming with drops of frustration. His accusation was ironic considering he was the one known as the ladies' man before they started dating.

“I had to defend your honour. I did this for you.”

“You didn’t do this for me. You did this because you were drunk. If you did it for me, you would’ve stopped as soon as I begged you to leave him. It was an accident.”

“Why are you so angry about it? You shouldn’t care about him? You wouldn’t unless you were sleeping with him.

“For god’s sake, Rafe. Stop bringing that up like it’s a fact. I have never touched Robin in that way nor will I ever. You know what? I’m done talking about this. I’m going to sleep. I’m taking the bed, so you better sleep on the floor.”

Rafe wasn’t surprised that she shut down during their argument. She had a good way of wanting to escape any type of true communication. Just like she did after hearing the rumours and during every other minor argument they had. The drinks in him began to make him drowsy, so he didn’t argue. They both got settled in their perspective sleeping arrangements, facing away from each other. Sleep didn’t find them though. Y/N was too busy thinking over the fact that the night started with so much hope. She sensed merely adoration for him and now, it wrapped up with outrage. She doubted the possibility of a happy ending for them because he may love her, but she would never be able to fill the holes his addictions were able to. Her fears caught up to her and released themselves with a sob. Rafe’s heart clenched at the sound of her sniffles. He hated being the reason for her unhappiness and had to make it better. The blanket fell off of him as he got up from the ground and encroached toward the bed. He carefully lifted the blanket from her body, sliding in beside her. His arms found her waist to bring her closer to his chest. His head dropped to her neck and he pressed a kiss on her soft spot. “I’m so sorry, Love. Of course, I don’t think you are cheating on me. It was because I was drunk. I’ll never drink again. I love you,” he promised. Her breath hitched at his words, letting it slap a bandaid on her aching heart. “I love you too.” She let this dissolve her belief of their destined un-fairytale ending and fell asleep with this lie.

———

Y/N let things ruminate inside of her. Problems she had with people were kept locked up inside of her, locked away forever. This stemmed from her hatred for talking through her issues, which was ironic because she was known to have a voice when her stubbornness came into play. However, if her unwillingness to do something wasn’t in her mindset, then she let it stew inside of her. It drove Rafe mad because he never knew what was wrong with her. That was till she found snide ways to express her frustration. Rafe returned home from class, leaving his shoes in the middle of the hallway. Y/N approached the front entrance of their off-campus house to greet her boyfriend. She spotted the shoes he left and sighed, not surprised by his carelessness. “Of course, leave your shoes there, in the middle of the room, like a child. Let me pick up after you like your mother,” she grunted under her breath. She leaned down to grab the shoes and placed them on the shoe rack. Rafe paused from walking further into the house, turning toward Y/N. “What was that?” he paused with his head cocked. She gave her attention to him, “Nothing, Honey. How was your day?”

Rafe’s head shook and his hand lifted. “You murmured something, Love. I heard it. So tell me,” he ordered. She huffed, “I was talking to myself.” “Yeah, about me. If you can say it to yourself, then you can say it to me,” he noted, bringing his finger to point at his chest. Y/N’s arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t want to talk about this, Honey.” She tried to remove herself from the room, except Rafe held onto her wrist. “Tell me,” he instructed. “No.” She yanked her arm away from him and stormed upstairs with Rafe in tow. “You don’t get to do this, Love. You don’t get to just ignore the problem when I confront you and then be snarky about it later on,” he insisted. She froze in the centre of the upstairs hallway and looked at him. “I am not talking about this,” she gritted through her teeth. She entered their bedroom with a slam and a lock of the door. Leaving Rafe to feel exasperated by her constant avoidance.

———

The clock showed eight and she didn’t know why she was staying at the restaurant. He left her waiting there for an hour. She had one idea where he was and she was going to confirm this suspicion. Her car sputtered on the unpaved road, coming to a halt in front of the trailer. Rafe heard her door slam shut from inside. He checked his watch. “Shit,” he groaned, trying to tidy up the evidence of the drugs he was using. Barry laughed, “What has your panties in a twist? Where are you going? I still have so much stuff for us to use.” Rafe’s head moved from side to side. “I can’t. I’m late from dinner and Y/N is here,” he informed. He checked the mirror to wipe away the residue of coke on it. He was too late. Y/N opened the door to catch Rafe dusting off the white powder from under his nose. Wrath filled her, “YOU TOLD ME THAT YOU QUIT.” “Love, I promise that I’m not doing it as often. It’s only to blow off some steam sometimes,” Rafe pledged, rushing to her side with blown pupils. Her eyes cut into slivers, “This is the fourth time this week that you’ve been late to something. That doesn’t count as sometimes.” Rafe gapped at her like a fish, opening and closing his mouth.

“I’m sorry that I was late, Love. How about we go back to the restaurant and you can order whatever you want. Order the whole menu for all I care,” he proposed. He tried to make the mess go away with a flash of his teeth. Her arms shuddered at her sides, “You don’t get to pretend everything is alright. You deceived me by saying you were getting clean when it was a lie.” He tracked her outside and held the driver’s side door of her car closed. He fell to his knees with his hands held together. His folded hands quaked, “I will quit. I will never touch another speck of cocaine or a drop of alcohol again. Please, just let me take you out to dinner.” She towered him from her standing position. She saw the tears bearming his eyelids and she felt her own about to make an appearance. She didn’t understand why the universe was constantly pushing them apart. She didn’t know why their sweet relationship always had to have a bitter aftertaste.“Don’t make a vow that we both know you aren’t going to keep.”

———

Ultimately, the bitter overpowers the sweet and she can’t ignore it anymore, toppling the last dominion of their relationship. Barry finds her when she is returning home from the grocery store. “Country Club owes me money,” he utters, causing her a fright. She drops the paper bags she is holding and the items inside litter the floor. Y/N twists to look at him with a frown, leaning over to pick up her fallen purchases. Once she straightens up from her actions, Barry slams her against her car. “Did you hear me, Bitch? Rafe owns me money,” he restates. Y/N glares at him, “And last time I checked, I’m not Rafe. Go bother him with your problems.” “See, he knows that he does and he doesn’t care, so I’m bringing the problem to you because I know you’ll listen to me,” he warns, griping her jar tightly. “Get me my money or else.” His eyes burn into her and she meekly nods her head. Satisfied with the response, he pushes off the car and gets onto his bike, leaving the girl behind. She almost wants to laugh at the idea that Barry thinks she would talk to Rafe about this. No, this encounter would be taken to her grave.

A week later, Barry returns to their house in a fury. He pushes through the semi-open door, almost causing a tried Rafe to nearly fall on his butt. “It’s been a week. Where is my money, Country Club?” Rafe rubs the sleep from his eyes to give the dealer a crossed look, “We talked about this. I don’t owe you anything.” “Yeah and then I had another conversation with that bitch of yours. I made it clear that I had a different opinion,” Barry explains, laughing. The creak of the steps reveals the arrival of the now-awake female. Her palms dig into her eyes as she slots herself in Rafe’s arms in just his t-shirt barely hiding her pastel green underwear. “What’s going on?” she croaks. Barry jeers, “There is the woman of the hour. I hear you didn’t tell your little boy toy about my visit.” Rafe pulls away from her to give her a confused look, “What is he talking about?” Freezing at the mention of her confidentiality, she pads over to the side table by the door. Her hands dig through the drawer to pull out a wad of cash Rafe keeps there in case of an emergency. She presses it into the brunette’s chest and shoves him out the door. “There is your money. Now, leave us alone, asshole,” she commands, slamming the door in his face. This is going to lead to a fight and she doesn’t need for there to be an audience when it breaks out. “He threatened you?” Rafe confirms with his fingers pointing at the door Barry left from.

She exhales, “Yes, last week.” “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you hurt me?” he wonders how he didn’t notice. She exposes her unharmed body to him, “No, he wanted to scare me with dramatics. That’s it.” “That is beside the point. He could’ve hurt you. You know, this is exactly like you. You never tell me anything that is going on in that vault of a brain of yours,” he accuses, crossing his arms. Her head whips toward him, “Oh, no. You do not get to bring this back to my problems. Your problem is the reason why he came to me in the first place. If you had gotten clean in the first place like you promised, he wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.”

“That is not fair! I’ve been trying to get sober. I’ve been trying to get sober for you.”

“Maybe… maybe that’s the problem. Honey, I don’t want you to get sober for me. I want you to get sober for you. Because you realize just how much this is hurting you. How much it is changing you as a person.”

“Why can’t I want it for the both of us?”

“Because I think sometimes you want to do it just to spite me and that’s what stopping you. You want to prove me wrong, which means you are doing it for the wrong reasons so it won’t stick. I think… I think that maybe that is what our whole relationship has been.”

This breaks a damn in Rafe. The broken look of realization on her face calls forth tears in his eyes, “What do you mean, Love? Our whole relationship has been about our love for each other.” “Has it though? Honey, all we ever do is fight. How is that love?” she poses, enclosing her small hands around his bigger ones. His blurry vision finds her, “We fight because we are fighting for our relationship. Because we care.” “Honey,” she whispers with agony. “We both know that even before we started dating, our vices made us like fire and ice.” “And we overcame those problems. Together. Please don’t talk about us like this we are over. We can work together. We can get through this,” he argues, gripping onto her like a life vest. “Until the next fight comes along. Then we are at each other’s throats, getting in as many digs as we can to hurt each other. How is that love, Rafe?” He doesn’t have an answer for her. All he wants is to give her a thousand reasons why they are meant to be together, except he gets completely overwhelmed by the situation. “Please don’t say we are over,” he begs.

“Don’t think of us as over, Honey. Think of this as us completing our story, giving us the chance to go on to make a new one.”

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t, mean it. You just need some time to think it over. I know it. So I’m going to go to give you some space. And when I come back, we can talk it out.” His words aren’t an order; they are a plea. He leaves her with the hope that the distance from their emotions will help them settle the argument because he doesn’t know what he will do if it doesn’t work.

———

Rafe didn’t think she was serious about breaking up. They’ve tried to separate so many times since they started dating, except it doesn’t mean that either of them actually went through it. She thought it would be the end after she got rid of his stash one time. His anger burnt hotter than the sun and she thought she would wake up in her bed alone. That morning, she woke up to whisper apologies and kisses to her stomach. He thought it was done when she found out that he was the reason she didn’t get a spot in the study abroad program. The thought of being away from her for a semester terrified him. She came back two days later with tears streaming down her face, saying she understood why he did it. She wouldn’t have been able to be gone for that long either.

He is wrong about this time. As he walks into their home, it is like he walked into the wrong universe. What made this house his home feels different and yet he chooses to ignore it. The first thing he notices is that her shoes are gone. No neighbour for the pair of shoes he is abandoning at the door. The first clue should’ve been the lack of Y/N, but the fight they had would’ve been the explanation for that. He tries to tell himself she is going through her shoes and that is why they are missing. He goes to the kitchen to fix himself something to eat and get a beer. She won’t like it if she comes back home to find him drinking, so he’ll have to finish it before she does. He gobbles the peanuts and alcohol down in record time. With his snack completely, he heads to their bedroom to get changed out of his suit into something more comfortable. He neglects the absence of her personal items in the room, too preoccupied with thinking about what to make for dinner. He’ll make smothered pork chops; it’s one of her favourites. When he is about to go to cook, he realizes he should buy her flowers first. He slips on his shoes and walks to the grocery store. It will give him time to go over what he wants to say to her once she is home. He doubts she will be home until dinner, so why rush? He has time.

Jasmine spots Rafe’s nearing figure and her lips tighten into a straight line. This isn’t his first visit to her. He is here at least once a week to buy Y/N flowers because of an argument. “How bad is it this time?” He scratches the back of her neck and gives her an awkward smile, “It was disastrous. Blue hyacinths and baby’s-breath, please. Oh, and that vase.” He points to a tear-dropped-shaped vase. The opening is smaller than the base and it is circled in ridges. Jasmine bobs her head, filling the glass with water prior to placing the bouquet into them. Rafe pays for the items and walks back home. He sits the vase in the middle of the dining room table and begins to make dinner. He plates the food, setting it on the made table. Everything is in place. The cutlery. The food. The drinks. Rafe. Now, all he needs is for Y/N to come home so they can make up. The hours of the night creep up on him and he eventually eats alone because if she isn’t home by now, then she probably won’t be coming home tonight. He uses Saran wrap to cover her room, placing it in the fridge with a sigh. He hopes she is safe wherever she is.

Day after day the flowers go unadmired by the person they are meant for. Soft petals shrivell up like aging skin. The vibrant blue turns brown, which signifies death. Rafe keeps them in the vase even if they are long gone, hoping she will see the effort of his action. As the flowers progress in the later stage of decomposition, Rafe recognizes that Y/N will never see them. Because it genuinely is over. Their story is complete.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama

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tiredfox64 · 6 days

Note

Hi Hi! I love you’re writings for Havik, it’s so hard to find any good Havik fics. Could you do Havik with an s/o who’s ex was abusive and they’re use to being bossed around and doing chores for their partner (like cooking, and cleaning for them and waiting for permission to do things)

You Have Freedom

Prior notes: Tbh using Havik is genius ngl. Make me wanna give him a kiss.

Pairing: Havik x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Mention of abusive/ toxic relationships, mention of violence, angst with happy ending

Relationship after relationship. It’s amazing that you are still standing. Though mentally you may have gained some issues since people in this world can’t act right.

Some partners never got over their ex. Some partners never took care of their own health. Some partners were just sick in the head and liked to mess with you.

It wasn’t you, you just had some bad luck and ran in the arms of the wrong people. You found comfort in the chaos that you were so used to. It wasn’t your choice it’s just how your brain started to be molded into needing. Your heart wanted something better. You deserved better than this. Not being forced to make a man who barely looks at you to cook him a meal or discourage you from wearing the clothes you want. But how does one break out from the cycle without getting hurt? Well, you might need some outside help.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another crumby date with your sleazebag of a boyfriend. He couldn’t even give you a decent date night. Going to the bar and ignoring you to talk to his buddies while flirting with other people in front of you is not a date. But he will gaslight you and tell you so many things.

“You’re crazy, that never happened.” “You’re so insecure this is why I don’t take you out.” “I was buying you drinks the whole time is that not enough attention for you.”

You don’t even like drinking let alone constantly having Jägerbombs which he took for himself. He just wanted an excuse to get drunk that’s why he called this a “date”. You hate when he’s drunk. He gets more irrational and occasionally violent. He’s currently going off about how you are ruining the vibe by sulking. Now he says the clothes that he approved are too slutty while a priest would beg to differ that you are extremely modest. You’re on the verge of crying when suddenly you both hear footsteps coming your way in the dark night. Only a quarter of the moon is showing which makes it harder to see who is coming. Closer and closer these heavy footsteps come your way until what little natural light could be shined shows a man. A very scary looking man.

He’s hunched over yet he still looks taller than you. You could see his head is not aimed towards your direction but your boyfriend’s. Your boyfriend in his drunken state starts yelling and cussing him out when he has done no wrong. You tried to make him stop but he pushed you off of him, almost making you fall while he begin to yell derogatory terms at you. This seemed to displease the other man who came closer and closer until he was right at your boyfriend’s face. When he stood up straight you saw that he was much bigger than your boyfriend. He was tall and seemingly stronger. The moon light finally showed some of his face when you saw the lower half was mangled. You were frozen, unsure of what to do.

Your boyfriend booked it out of there, not even looking back at you. He was horrified and knew he fucked up. You were left alone with this scary looking man.

“Heh, pathetic. I’ve never seen such a weak man before.” He spoke in a gravely voice.

You just stared without saying a word. He began to walk off and you kept looking at him. He sensed you were still staring and turn back.

“What, too afraid to move? Did I scare you that much?” He might have been teasing you but you’re not sure.

“I’m afraid to walk home alone.”

Well that was a shock. You weren’t scared of him but you were scared of being alone. He won’t lie that seemed kinda cute. Your prick of a boyfriend did leave you behind so he felt like you deserved to at least get home safety. He walked back to you, staring down at you with that mangled face, before gesturing you to follow him. You did so without hesitation.

The ball started to roll without you knowing. This was the start of something good. The start of something with a Seidan who calls himself Havik.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Letting Havik into your home after he walked you back was the best decision you’ve made in a while. Though at first you were scared by his scars and his violent attire that didn’t change the fact he was calm with you. That calmness never went away.

Yes, he isn’t the most stable person around. You’ve seen him rip his own arm off to smack someone but that person he was smacking was your ex so it’s okay.

He never told you to stop crying. Even on the walk home you bursted out crying from that whole night. Havik didn’t immediately comfort you but when you were almost done crying he lightly wiped your tears away with his clawed hand. The metal that grazed your face was slightly confronted. And then he proceeded to lick the tears off his hands but let’s just overlook that.

You have felt safe with him around. He’s like a scary guard dog that you see as a protective softie. But in the back of your mind you worried that he would turn on you just like all your other exes. It’s starts with caring about you, than they slowly start to get aggravated and aggressive, then the love bombing starts, and a new vicious cycle starts.

This time is different, I promise.

You first tested him when your friends invited you out. A new club opened and you are still young you just had to go. They thought you were single now so they said you could dress however you wanted. But your concern was if Havik would be okay with it.

When you walked up to him he was sharpening the blade he usually had on his left arm. You swallowed hard as you hoped this wouldn’t turn nasty. You had the clothes you wanted to wear in your hands.

“Havik, my friends asked me if I could go out with them tonight. Am I allowed to go.” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to be yelled at.

“You don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Do you want to go?” He responded so quickly you wondered if he took in what you said.

“Yes, I want to go. And I want to wear this,” you showed him the outfit, “Am I allowed to wear this?”

“Wear what you are comfortable with. If you want to go out with your chest out go ahead, you should be allowed to do that without anyone holding you back.” He grumbled not because of you but that the fact that if you did go out with your chest out you would be shamed.

This wasn’t the usual response for you. Usually it’s a no, why do you need to go out, are you gonna hook up with other guys, stupid incriminating things like that. It’s not that Havik doesn’t care, it’s more like he doesn’t care what you want to do just as long as you are sure you want to do so.

“Did you need me to cook you something before leaving? Does something need to be cleaned?” You were sounding all panicky as if you were being tricked. Like there was a catch and you had to do certain things before you were allowed to leave.

Havik stopped what he was doing and looked at you. For a second you thought you messed up by asking too many things and you ended up annoying him. He got up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards you. You flinched but didn’t run since that usually got you into more trouble before. Once he was right in front of you his hand went up and started petting you at the top of your head. You were calm again. This man in front of you is not like the others in your past.

“Were you looking for an excuse not to go out or are you worried something bad will happen when coming home?” He asked.

“No I just…was making sure,” you seemed almost out of it, “I’m gonna get ready now.”

You walked off and did as you said. You got ready and let your friends know that you would be going out. They were more than happy to hear that news. You checked with Havik one more time if it was alright but just one look at him told you it was alright. Actually wait! He has something to say. He came up to you quickly and you thought this was the moment. Nope, he just ripped his arm off and tried to hand it to you.

“Carry this with you if anyone decides to bother you.” He advised.

“I can’t carry a severed arm around! Are you crazy?!”

Uh duh, he is a little coo coo in the head.

“It’s fine. You can just smack them with it and they’ll be out. You should try it, it’s liberating.” He’s still trying to make you take his arm.

“Havik, no, stop. I’ll go to jail.”

“I will break you out. It is your right to beat someone up if they are bothering you.”

He’s not getting it but the gesture is nice. No Havik, they won’t take the knife either. Clubs don’t allow that.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

This was a big change for you and it was a good change. Your friends saw how happier you were now. They thought it was the single life. No, it was because you started to see that you were finally in a healthy spot in life. You are with a man who lets you know that you have a choice.

The night ended and your friends brought you back home. The house was quiet. When you went all the way up to your bedroom you saw Havik seemingly sleeping in your bed. And of course he was taking up the whole bed.

You started to undress and put on your sleep wear before you heard him speak in a sleepy voice.

“Did you enjoy yourself? Did anyone bother you?” He asked.

“I enjoyed myself and no, no one bothered me luckily.” The tone in your voice portrayed how happy you were which was a nice change.

“I can’t go hunting for someone?” He asked

“You can’t go hunting for someone, no.” You replied

Havik is glad no one bothered you but he did want an excuse to go after someone. Oh well, he’ll just pick at random again.

You slipped into bed with the little space you had on your side. As you were about to ask Havik if he was fine with cuddling you he was already on it. He dragged you in, nuzzling his face against yours as an act of affection. He would give you a kiss but…ya know. But you can still give him a kiss!

You kissed him all over, even the exposed flesh since you didn’t fear it anymore. You were happy to have him in your life now. A man that many would fear but you see as the sweetest guy you have ever dated. Knowing how long it took for you to get this lucky made you cry. It was hard to tell if it was from joy or the fact that it took time before you gained something good. He licked your tears away before he rested his head on top of yours. He squeezed you tight to him, almost giving off a sort of comfort that a weighted blanket would give.

“One day, I will give you a world where you are free to do whatever you want. No one will tell you what to do or what you need to do. You will be free. I’ll set everyone who has been controlled free. If I can’t free everyone, at least I can free you.”

He knew exactly what to say to you. He knows what you’ve been through. Never again. As long as he lives and thrives he won’t let that happen. He opposes control. There is only freedom and love with that freedom. Do what you want, wear what you want, cook what you want, eat what you want, do you boo boo. He will support you. And you will support him with whatever he wants to do.

There is no insecurities, denials, cheating, lies, and manipulation. There is only freedom and love between you and Havik.

Now rest, you’ve had a long eventful day. Your new beginning has started and you are excited to see what will come of this.

Though I advise you keep a towel near your bed. Havik drools in his sleep. Like a lot. Don’t be surprised when you wake up with wet hair, that was him. Sorry, I don’t make the mangled man’s rules.

After notes: Truly I hope no one ever goes through shit like this. It’s not even something like a you should have this experience once type of thing. I hope none of y’all experience what I’ve experienced in past relationships cause it is no joke. But I hope something like this can bring others comfort. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #havik x you #havik x reader #mk havik #mortal kombat havik #havik #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort

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fictional-idol-tournament · 7 months

Text

Propaganda below the cut:

Minori Hanasato

- just look at her. that's it that's my propaganda

- SHE IS A GIRLFLOP WHO NEVER BACKED DOWN AND NEVER GAVE UP SHE IS AMAZING SILLY AND MASSIVE LESBIAN SIMP FIGHT ON FIGHT ON MINORIII!!!

- SHE BECAME AN IDOL BECAUSE SHE WAS GAY FOR THIS IDOL SHE LIKES AND SHE GREW SO MUCH SINCE SHE STARTED WE'RE SO PROUD OF HER!! MINORININ!!!

- good music, great singer, ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE, trying to spread hope, shes GAY? what more could you ask for?????

- I LOVE HER SOSOSOSOSOMUCH SHE FAILED 51 AUDITIONS AND BECAME FRIENDS WITH 3 OTHER RETIRED IDOLS AND INSPIRED THEM TO BE IDOLS AGAIN AND SHES SO CRIBGEFAIL AND SILLY AND SHE GROWS SO MUCH FROM RUE BEGINNING ITS SO SATISFYING TTO WATCH,,, AnD the story sort of touches on toxic idol business and whatnot SO it's actually pretty cool with that :o I love her so mucg

- Failed auditions dozens of times but still kept trying and ended up forming an idol group alongside the idol she looked up to while also inspiring that idol to keep going

- She's driven by so much determination to fulfill her childhood dream of becoming an idol despite having failed 51 auditions. She meets her childhood idol and two other idols, all three of them had given up on their dreams but she returned their hope back to them!! They then formed a unit called MORE MORE JUMP! with a goal to spread hope to everyone. Minori's literally such a sweetheart and she tries her hardest to keep up w/ everyone else and she's so!! I love her v much

- SHES SO SWEET SHE JUST WANTS TO MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY AND BRING HOPE TO EVERYONE!!! SHE WORKS SO HARD TO LAKE HER DREAMS COME TURE SHE IS BEST GIRL

- She gets so much undeserved hate for being "boring" but as one of Minori's biggest fan I will prove them all wrong. She managed to realize her dream of becoming an idol by meeting her favorite idol after she gave up on being one. And THEN convinced her and two others to become an idol again by herself becoming one, therefore realizing her biggest wish by the side of the people who inspired her. I'm so proud of my cringe fail daughter you have no idea<- normalest Minori fan

- If you don't vote for her I will find you. She is so pathetic I love her.

- She's the literal definition of an idol. Angel of hope

- SHE LOVES BEING AN IDOL IDOLS ARE THE REASON SHES NOT DEPRESSED SHES DRAGGED 3 RETIRED IDOLS OUT OF RETIREMENT WITH THE FORCE OF HER IDOL LOVE

- Okay so I haven't read all more more jump stories yet, but, minori basically brings hope wherever she goes. The other members of her group were going to quit being an idol forever (even though they loved being idols), until they met her and she made them realize their true feelings! And she's also like really gay Haruka wished her happy birthday and she fainted once. She's also just cute and a delight to have on screen and really good at singing!!! Also she's actually friends with all the cryptonloids so that's pretty neat

- I love Minori! She's so persistent in becoming an idol, doesn't give up, she's a lesbian, really inspiring and she's so great!

- She is the idol girl that inspired 3 other girls to return to being idol girls

- OMG SHES SO FUCKING SILLY CJWJCJSHCDJ THE SILLY EVER TO EVER SILLY

- Bestie tries so hard. She wanted to be an idole so much and she kept failing and being rejected and finaly she found others who believe in her and helps her become one. She's adorable. She deserve everything in the world

- She’s CUTE, she’s CRINGEFAIL, and she’s CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED, vote Minori! MINORINRIN!

- she is silly, she never back down never give up, she is orange aka best colour, and lesbian.

- SHES FOLLOWING HER DREAMS

- Just look at her, she's beautiful.

- Besides that, Minori is a sweet high school girl who loves idols and puts lots of efforts to become one, because her most important goal is to spread hope and happiness to her fans. Her group is formed by 3 professional idols who lost hope in their dreams until Minori came into their lives and reminded them why they wished to be idols in the first place.

- She is literally the sweetest little cinnamon roll ever who loves idols and kept trying so so hard even when she failed many auditions,,, she brings 3 professional ex-idols together again and helps her own idol overcome past trauma and despite facing criticism from her groups fans who didnt understand why she was in a group with famous idols when she wasnt one herself she kept going to bring hope to one fan that she knew she had! She is sooo silly and goofy and kind and funny, I love Minori pls vote for her (*´ ˘ `*)

- She's so sweet and cute and deserves the world. She's so kind to everyone and is basically the sun.

- i am her #1 fan and i say that shes trying her best pls let her win shes my skrunkly skrimblo

- minorin hehe shes really cute and always positive and never gives up even when shes seen as a newbie she still gives it her all and she finially reached her dream of being an idol sdgghdsaadffgg

- Minori's entire narrative centers around her not only wanting to become an idol, but inspiring three other girls to continue their pursuing their idolhood dreams and bringing hope back to them after their own individual struggles in the industry! She's a character about hope and perseverance at her core, and she wants to inspire people in her pursuits! She failed over 50 auditions and has a historically long string of bad luck that would even go so far to drive her classmates away from her but she never once gave up on her dream! Plus, she's incredibly cute and her specialty includes coming up with catchphrases.

Rise Kujikawa

- Rise!! Top nation idol who lost sight of what really made her happy and then regaining it from the support from her friends!! Realizing how much she loves her fans and how much she loves performing!! And how important it is for her to accept all parts of her as herself!! She's so great <3

- Best Persona navigator and best girl, the famous Risette!

- As her agency's representative put it, she has that spark. She learns fast, adapts well to new situations, has that smile that could be as strong or weak as she needed, and has the acting skills of an old pro.

#polls #round 1 #project sekai #minori hanasato #persona 4 #rise kujikawa

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itsstrange · 5 months

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Karl Urban/Reader

Reader and Karl are friends. Like each but dont say. Live about 6 houses away from each other with her shitty ex in-between. Reader goes to ex house walks in on him cheating. (You decide what) Runs out and winds up at Karl's house. But not home at the moment. He comes home to find reader sitting on his porch.

He takes care of her. Maybe confess attraction to each other other . Fluff and smut and sweetness if all possible

**idea came from something that happen to a friend of mine . They had someone always there.

A/N: Another Request Delivered. I actually debated on writing this one because I wasn’t sure how other people would view me as. But just wanted to leave this out in the open, in case your friend is not comfortable or not happy with a story being written in regards to her past experiences and would like to be taken down I would gladly do so, not many people would want others to know what they’ve been through. So Again, feel free to lmk and I’ll right away take it down! ❤️

ANOTHER NOTE: Everything that has been written is NOT what actually happened in the real events, all of it was created by me! I did Not write anything that was related to the situation! In fact I have no idea what exactly happened, but I will again remove this story if the requester’s friend is not comfortable with it. Sincerely, ItsStrange ❤️

Treat You Better

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: (Yess-ish?) Toxic Relationship, Mention of Verbal Abuse, Arguments, a Little Bit of Physical Violence, Hurt Reader, Protective Karl, Confessions, Smut, Kissing, (You Know The Smut Tags)

Like in Mendes words: “I know I can Treat You Better, Better Than He Can,”

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Enjoy! 🔥

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“Need another?” Russel’s deep voice startles you from where you’re focused was on your bandaged hand, fingers gently prodding at loose strands of strings,

Your bloodshot red eyes meet his light brown orbs, concern and a hint of anger we’re hidden behind, but no words of said feeling we’re displayed at you. Even if that’s all he wanted to do, let you know how he feels of the certain situation that you are currently in, let you know you are better off, that you deserve better and should have just dumped the fucker from the beginning, but he didn’t. Because from the years that he’s known you, he knows expressing his own feelings and opinions on the subject would not help, yes maybe the you deserve better would be appropriate to let you know, but the rest of what he has banging in his throat is not appropriate. Nor is it a humane thing to say, at least not right now.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to that son of a bitch for hurting you yet again were not humane. Just from your expression alone when you came strolling in his bar let him know something had happened, but when you finally told him everything as he bandaged your bloody hand, pure rage was igniting inside of him. Especially at the condition of your hand, it hand bruises already forming, split knuckles with dried blood smeared throughout your skin. If it wasn’t from the explanation you had told him he would have thought you had just came back from a brawl.

So from what you had told him, you were just coming back from the studio, your first album after two years of taking a mental break was finally coming out which you couldn’t be more excited. Everything you’ve been through, all the losses you’ve had the last couple years, the struggles you were going through were being put into your new album, and you couldn’t wait to share it to the world, to let your fans know it’s okay to feel low because at some point you find that strength to rise up once again.

Yet, despite of your excitement about your upcoming project, there was always that dark cloud hovering in the back of your mind, reminding you of reality, of what waits at home for you. The first couple of months that you had given him a second chance were great, they were amazing, perfect even, but it was the last two months we’re everything started to fall back into old habits. The constant arguments of the smallest things, the jealousy between you two was stronger than before, the cruel words that were exchanged on a daily bases were just insane. You two were not working, again, and you weren’t happy, but for some reason you just couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t call it, you couldn’t decide if you should end it or give it more time to see if he’d fucking change some how. But he never did.

And it was tonight that proved to you he will never change.

It had been a long day at the studio. All your frustrations and stress were put into the studio, into your music that you hadn’t realize it was nearing one in the morning. Not only did you also realize you were completely drained, both physically and mentally, but you also noticed it was passed your limit to keep the room, so after saving everything, packing everything up, you bid your farewells to your team before following Tim, your bodyguard, to the suv to drive you home. You honestly didn’t want to go home, knowing what waited for you, pure disappointment and a pointless awaiting argument. Just the thought of him waiting in the entrance of your shared home, probably drunk off his ass made a headache form. You wouldn’t doubt it, he had been blowing up your phone since you left that morning in hopes to stay away from him. And Lordy did that bring ridiculous accusations from the idiot. Claiming he knew why you left the house so early on a Sunday morning just like you have been the last couple of months, which you couldn’t help let a scoff out before ignoring the rest of his stupidity messages.

You could have easily told Tim to take you to a hotel, but you honestly didn’t want to rise suspicions from him, nobody knew of your on again off again struggles with your toxic boyfriend, not even your own family, because you knew what they’d say. So, to prevent any words that you don’t want to hear you hid your toxicity relationship from them and only displayed a fake happy couple for family gatherings or public appearances. Because you honestly don’t think you’ll be able to deal with all the prying questions from people left and right. So hidden it stays.

After hours of driving in comfortable, peaceful silence, something you knew you wouldn’t have for the remainder of the night, you finally arrive at your house. Thanking Tim and relieving him for the night to catch some sleep as well, you slowly make your way towards the black wooden door. You noticed how all the lights have been turned off, which is a rare thing to see when the lowlife is home alone and drunk. It was even more rare when everything seemed quiet as soon as you stepped inside, maybe he left to drink with his moron friends, you remember thinking to yourself as you shut the door. But the silence that engulfed the entire home was soon cut short with a muffled moan coming from upstairs. You remembered the way your body froze at the sound, both at the fact that it was not a pained moan nor was it a man’s moan, no that sounded way too pitched to be a man’s moan.

The event played clearly in your head. Heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling from the rage that was quickly rising in your veins as you slowly walked up the stairs, feeling the way your hairs from your arms rise when the muffled grunts and moans sounded much clearer as you stood on the second floor. Breath picking up its pace as the rage only seems to grow when you made your way to the white door that was slightly ajar. You believe you’ll always remember the way your veins boiled with rage at the sight in front of you.

The familiar tattooed back facing your direction was clearly oblivious to your presence by the door as the asshole was too busy making the female underneath him cry out of pure pleasure. Your hands shook by your sides, slowly forming into a tight fist, however, it wasn’t until Bryan, that piece of shit had leaned his head back that caught his attention to the mirror, recognizing who you were he immediately turned to look at you but was sent falling back against the bed, crushing the girl. Pain traveled up your wrist, but you didn’t care, not with the rage blinding you, the moment he went back against the cushion you finally let your bottled up emotions on the man. Sending blow after blow, some connected with his face while others missed just passed his head.

‘Y/n stop!’ You remember him pleading to you but was cut off with another strong blow to his jaw, that literally sends him off the bed and onto the ground with a groan,

The moment he touched the wooden floor, you bolted out the room without another word. Not even when he pathetically calls after you, scrambling on his feet gathering whatever clothing he can get as he tries to reach you, but just as he steps outside the door you were already in your car driving away.

Hot tears slid down your face, both from hurt and rage, all you saw was red. The things that you wanted to do, the pain you wanted to inflict on him, your mind raced as you blindly drove down the street.

It wasn’t until you had reached a red light where you realized the one person you truly wanted to cry to was not an option right now, Bryan knew that’s where you’d run off to, so in order for that not to happen you knew you needed to be somewhere far away where he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Which leads you back here, sitting at Russel’s bar, with a possible broken hand. Your old man’s best friend, or as you like tell everyone to know, your uncle Russ, was your second choice to hide away for a couple minutes, maybe an hour or two. You honestly don’t know how long it has been but from the empty glasses of shots in front of you, you know it’s been at least passed an hour.

“Kid?”

Russel speaks out again, grabbing your attention once again. Your (E/c) eyes meet with his own, brows tightly knitted as he observes you with that familiar dad stare. Shit.. what did he ask me again? Oh right..

“Yeah.. I’ll take one for the road,”

The older man eyes you for a second, watching the way your mind wonders once again as you look down at your empty glass, but goes ahead and reaches for the Jameson bottle that you’ve adopted since you arrived at his bar.

“Where you headin?” Russel asks as he pours another pour for you, hoping you weren’t going back to that nightmare of a man,

Cradling the glass in between your hands, numbs playing with the rim of it, you think of his words. You knew where you were going, but didn’t know if it was safe to go, considering his house was only a few blocks down from your shared home with that son of bitch. Then again, it has been an hour or so since you’ve left and the constant messages you’ve received from him only shows he has no idea where you are. Thank god you never introduced him to your families bar, a decision you had made a while back after your first breakup, he knew where your mother lived, knew where your siblings lived, knew where your close friends lived, so you knew you had to have one spot to hide away from him, and Russel’s bar was the place.

Russel never took it to heart on why you never brought him over, in fact he rather not have him anywhere near his bar, he never did like him from the start, which you never took it personal because you couldn’t blame him. Jesus.. you knew why Russel never accepted him and yet you still decided to be with that piece of shit, and for what? You don’t even know why and that alone brings a soft snort from you, catching the bar owners attention.

“You should wait up, let the Jameson cool down,” Russel claims, picking up the shots in front of you and placing them in the basket to wash later,

Your eyes lift from your now empty glass, which… you apparently had drank, and look at the man who takes the glass from your hands before replacing it with a large glass of water.

“Drink and sober up,” He demands, knowing you weren’t exactly on the right mental state to be driving with alcohol in your system,

Even if he knew you were able to hold your alcohol pretty well, he still didn’t want to risk your life, neither one of your family members would ever forgive him if he’d ever let anything happen to you under his watch.

After chugging the large glass of water, eating some salted cashews and watching a rerun of some football game for a good 30 minutes or so, you begin to climb off your stool. Just as you reach in your pocket for some change you feel a cashew hitting you directly on your forehead causing you to flinch.

“That better be you fishing out your car keys and not money,” He points at you with a long finger,

“Russ-,” You try but was cut off,

“Don’t Russ me. Go. Go to your mom’s and rest up kiddo, and when mornin comes, you better give her the whole story so she can personally kick his ass,” You roll your eyes with a short chuckle as you steal another cashew from the bowl to throw it at him,

“Alright, G’night Uncle Russ,”

“Night kiddo, get there safely,” He pleads as he walks around the bar to give you a tight hug before walking you out the building,

You wave at him before making your way to your car, where you sit in the drivers side for five minutes, debating whether you should just drive to mothers home instead of his, it was pretty late nearing three in the morning, but if you were being completely honest you didn’t need anyone else other than him right now. It was him you needed, his soothing words, his warmth, his comfort, him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with you for dragging your problems to him so late at night.

++++

As you rounded the familiar street, you turned off your headlights just in case Bryan was still awake, despite him staying six houses down, knowing him he’d still know it’d be you pulling into the street. So after turning the lights off, you pull into his driveway where you notice his 2018 black Hellcat sitting there, indicating he’s either home or he took the Mustang for the night. Your thoughts are answered when you went to knock on his door only to receive no answer after the fifth knock.

So with an exhausted sigh, you go ahead and sit on his front steps. At this point you should have just went to your mothers house, at least there you had keys where you can easily walk in instead of waiting on the front steps like a loser. Which speaking of, the longer you sat on the steps and each yawn that escaped from you only pulled on your exhaustion even more. Making you realize just how tired you were, both physically and mentally, all you wanted was sleep. Sleep until the night vanished, until you weren’t in this moment, sleep until you wake up feeling happy for yourself again instead of feeling such pain and frustration. It’s all you wanted at the moment.

However, before you can actually allow yourself to fall asleep on his steps like a total loser, you hear the familiar roar of an engine driving down the street, then bright headlights blinding you for a second before coming to a stop right next to your rs7. Lowering your head down to rub away the spots from your vision, you hear the engine shutting off right before hearing the drivers door opening and closing.

Than that beautiful deep rich accent filling your ears.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out your name, causing you to look up at him, a small smile tugging on your lip as you bring down your face again, slightly avoiding his gaze for now,

“Where are the boys?” You ask, starting small talk as you pick on dead skin on your thumb,

“With their mum. Just came back from the pub,” He responds as he slowly walks closer towards you, what you didn’t see was the way his brows were tightly knitted together as he observed your hunched frame on his steps,

They only knit tighter and his worry only grew when you respond with a small nod, along with a whispered ‘nice’ as you continue to look down at your lap, avoiding him. However, just as he’s within reach he notices the dried tear stains on your cheeks, but what really makes his blood boil was the way your right hand was bandaged up, starting from your wrist to your knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he crouches in front of you, getting a slightly better view of your face. Although, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he softly places a finger underneath your chin before gently lifting your face, where your red eyes finally meet with angry hazel orbs.

“Where is he?” Is all he says, hazel eyes never parting from yours,

Dropping your gaze from his, you slowly shake your head as best you can in his grip, “I don’t know,”

Of course you’d lie. And of course he knew because without another word he grips his keys in his hand before rising and darting back towards his driveway.

“Karl stop,” You call out to him, slowly walking after him,

“Gonna kill that cunt,” You hear him snarl over his shoulder, but before he can reach his lawn your small hand wrapping around his forearm stops him from going further,

“Stop,” You tell him, hand still holding onto his arm with a loose grip,

“That fuckin’ cunt crossed it,” He claims, voice laced with sharp venom, hazel eyes shining with rage instead of his warm, welcoming orbs,

“I know. But he’s not worth getting in trouble for,” Your own eyes held a firm look as you gazed up at his angered orbs, then, with an exhausted sigh you close your eyes, “Can we just..,” Another sigh, “Can we please just go inside,”

Karl’s anger and frown slowly fades away as he reads the exhaustion on your face. Just how long were you sitting out here for? Why didn’t you give him a call? He asks himself, but rather than prying you with such questions he simply nods at you before letting you lead him up the stairs. After fishing out his keys, opening the door he lets you walk in first before following right behind. Once shutting and locking the door, he makes his way to the living room, where you quietly stood by the entrance. Just lost in thought or possibly replaying the nights event.

“Here, sit down,” He offers, gently walking you to the couch, “I’ll make coffee,”

You let out a soft chuckle as you sit down, eyes looking up at him, “It’s nearly four in the morning Karl,”

It was then you realized his form and outfit of the night. Hair slightly tousled, grey t-shirt, green leather jacket on top, faded jeans with some brown boots on his feet. He looked absolutely handsome, just like any other day.

A small smile tugs on his lips at the realization, “Tea then,” and with that he makes his way towards the kitchen,

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, fingers playing with dead skin on your thumbs while your mind drifts once again, thinking about it, about him, about how much time you’ve wasted on him. How much energy you’ve physically and mentally drained from yourself by simply being with him. Then realizing just how stupid you were for even considering on giving that piece of shit another chance, realizing just how much of a fucking joke you made yourself look. You sat there blaming yourself for all the shit you decided to go through, for having faith that he would change, for believing he’d actually love you and care for you.

But now look at you. Back to square one. You wouldn’t have been in this situation again if you hadn’t given him another chance. You wouldn’t be feeling like a fucking joke if you hadn’t given him the okay a few months ago, nor would you be sitting in Karl’s couch with dried tears and smeared makeup if you’d just told him no.

‘No you can’t come back, no this wouldn’t work, no we just aren’t meant for each other, no you are a fucking waste of time.’ If only those were the words you had told him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.

After about four to five minutes of brewing the tea, pouring a good amount into two mugs, and putting one spoon of honey into your navy mug (which of course he knows it’s the only way you’ll drink tea). He finally makes his way back to the living room, where he finds you sitting with your feet up on the couch, arms hugging your legs towards your chest, with your cheek resting on your knees. However, the sound of your soft sniffles has him reaching the couch in two long strides. Placing both mugs on the coffee table he settles right next to you before hugging your hunched frame, which you immediately hide your face in the crook of his neck.

The tears that rapidly slid down your cheeks weren’t from heartbreak, it was from anger, embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. Not from him, but from yourself. You were angry at the fact that he cheated on you again, angry at that fact that you trusted him again, angry at the fact that you were so stupid in giving him another chance. Embarrassed at the fact that he made you look like a fool again, embarrassed that the whole world will once again know he cheated on you, embarrassed that you are going through this shit again. Every emotion flowed through you, consumed you that all you can do is just let it out through rapid tears. Your hands gripping tightly onto Karl’s shirt as you try burying your face deeper into his neck, as if that’ll shield you from the total embarrassment that you are facing at the moment.

“I’m so fucking.. stupid!” You sob against his skin, hands clutching tighter onto his shirt,

Karl is quick to shush you with a shake of his head. Tightening his hold on you as he lets one hand sooth your back, awhile slightly rocking you both on the couch.

“Shh.. no you’re not,” He mumbles on the crown of your head,

“I n-never should’ve..-,” The words get stuck in your throat as another angered sob leaves your lips, “God.. I should’ve fucking known!”

“Shh,” He continues to soothe you, body slightly rocking you, hugging you tighter and closer towards his chest, “Just let it out love. Everything you feel right now, just let it out. I’m right ‘ere,”

And you do. You let the hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks, let the bottled up emotions fall past your lips, your broken, frustrated, angered sobs filling the quietness of his living room.

It wasn’t long when the tears had stopped falling down your cheeks, when you’ve calmed down and simply just laid your head on his chest as he laid back against the cushion. Hand cradling and gently massaging your head, soothing you and comforting you. Yet, his fingers come to a halt at your sudden words.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, fingers playing with his grey shirt, feeling guilty for burdening him with your situation, “M’sorry for.. bringing my shit to you,”

His brows knit together as he glances down at your head, “Don’t be,”

“I am,” You argue back, voice slightly quivering and breaking due to the crying session not that long ago, “If it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here. Bothering you.”

Karl stood quiet, weighing his words that he wants to tell you. That he’s been wanting to tell you, ever since your first breakup, he wanted to let you know but was never given the chance. Then before he knew it, it was too late, he had lost the opportunity to let you know but now, now he won’t let it slip. He was scared before, fearing it would ruin things between you two, he’d lose you for what he reveal to you and he couldn’t have that. He still doesn’t want that, but you have to know. No matter what happens, he just has to let you know.

“You’re right,” You hear him say, feeling the way your heart slightly shatters at his agreement, but before you can even begin to pull away from his hold his voice stops you from doing so, “You shouldn’t be going through this. You shouldn’t be runnin’ from home, shouldn’t be crying at my steps at the three in the mornin’… fuckin hell (Y/n)..,”

He curses with a frustrated wince as he slightly forces you to sit, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he continues, “You deserve more. You deserve the whole fuckin world, every happiness there is. You deserve to be treated like you should be treated. A goddamn queen,” His hazel orbs bore into yours, not once parting, not even with his next words,

He hesitates for a second, but pushing the fear down he finally says, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.. and believe me when I tell you… I’ll do anything to see you smile. I’d give everything to bring you nothing but happiness and love. I’ll Treat You Better. Because that’s what you deserve,”

You stare at him in shock, tears slowly building as you take in his words. Never in a million years did you think this man, your closest friend, a talented well-known actor who gets to travel the world for his work, gets to meet and have dinners with other well known actors and actresses—who by the way are some of your all time favorite people— would ever make such a deep confrontation to you. Who would share the same feelings you have been desperately trying to stow away for multiple reasons, fearing if you ever gave into said feelings you’d lose him forever, so you went ahead and kept those feelings to yourself and try to distract yourself by putting so much effort in trying to fix a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be mixed nor was it meant for you.

As tears slowly slide down your cheeks, you feel a warm hand resting on the side of your cheek, then a soft thumb gently brushing away a tear. Hazel eyes locking with your own, not once parting away.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved,” He whispers, thumb still wiping away fresh tears,

No words were said, just a simple nod from you was all he needed to finally let his lips latch onto yours. The kiss was soft but firm as you both poured your hidden emotions into it. Fresh new tears slid down your cheeks as you kissed him, relief is what they were. Relieved that you finally gave in to those feelings, relieved that he too shared those feelings and that alone caused the tears to come out as you cherished his warm lips.

The kiss soon picked up its pace when he gently prods your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, which you gladly accepted. The moment his tongue sweeps with your own, it has you melting against him like no other, has you forgetting about everything around you, forgetting about that asshole, the pain on your hand, everything. All your focus was on him and only him. The way his mouth collides perfectly with your own, the way his hands gently run along your hips, legs, towards your lower back before maneuvering you onto his lap.

“This okay?” He asks in between kisses, hands respectfully waiting on your hips,

“Yes, please,” You find yourself begging him, but he doesn’t tease you about it, nor does he laugh at your neediness because hell, he too was desperate for you,

Without another word he dives back to your lips, letting them collide much rougher and firmer. Letting your tongues battle with each other before allowing him to take control. A moan and a groan can be heard between you two when you slightly rock your hips on his lap, making you feel just how much he wants you at the moment. Yet, it was another firm rock of your hips that has him rising from the couch, strong arms holding you against him as he makes his way towards his bedroom. Once there he quickly walks towards his bed where he gently lays your frame against the cushion. He hovers over you, lips still connected with each other as he teases back with a thrust of his own hips, causing a small gasp to leave your lips when you feel the way his hardened member presses against your covered core.

He didn’t tease for long considering he’s waited for this very moment for as long as he can remember. Not wasting another second he slowly begins rising your shirt up your body and off your frame, tossing it to the side of the bed he lets his warm lips press feathery kisses along your skin, causing goosebumps to travel throughout your body with every kiss he placed on new piece of skin. You then feel the way his hand slips beneath you before feeling your bra loosen around your chest, then feeling the way he slowly removes it from you. Large hands cover your breast, emitting a low moan when he grips and massages them before allowing his mouth to wrap around one of your already hardened buds. A gasp once again escapes from you at the sensitive feeling.

Yet it soon fades when he averts his mouth from your breast to your lips, pecking them once, twice before letting you remove his own grey shirt from his frame. Your hands land gently against his toned chest, then letting them travel down his torso, watching the way his toned stomach flexes at your nails ghostly scraping against his skin. Your fingers land on his belt where they begin to undo it from its place. Once unbuckled, button and fly open, your eyes are locked on his when you slowly reach inside his pants, watching the way his lips turn to a firm line as a deep heavy sigh slips through his nose at your touch. Feeling the way his harden member slightly twitches when your rubs become firmer.

However, what emitted a broken grunt from the man hovering above you was when you let your fingers slip past his dark briefs to grip onto his thick heated shaft. A shuddered sigh escapes past his lips at the first tug you make, hazel eyes slightly disappearing behind those eyelids as he tries to keep his gaze on you with every stroke you give him. After the fourth tug he bends down to plant a kiss on your lips before pulling away from you to let his own hands undo your jeans. Once your shoes had been removed, your jeans were next, following your navy underwear, leaving you completely bare to him. You hear the way he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he observes your naked frame, hands gently rubbing up and down your beautiful thighs.

“Ātaahua,” Karl whispers huskily under his breath, hazel eyes scanning your naked frame before locking them with your own,

Heat rises up your cheeks at the familiar word, yet before you can even decided on hiding from him he quickly bends down to peck your lips before rising once again to remove the remainder of his clothing. Now that his jeans and briefs were off him, leaving him bare to you, your eyes grow wide as you scan the rest of him.

Yeah you felt him a few seconds ago, knew he was thick from touch alone, but now, seeing it up close and personal you didn’t think he’d be that thick and.. big.

His member stood proudly in between his legs, pre-cum leaking beautifully and deliciously from his cherry tip. Veins visible underneath his shaft, looking like a fucking master piece and definitely causing your mouth to go dry from the sight alone.

“See something you like love?” He

responds above you, voice lower than usual, smirk proud on his lips as he stares down at you,

Speechless is what you we’re. No words were able to form nor spill out your mouth, so instead you glance up to meet his eyes, which were laced with lust as he towered over you. Even under the moon light shining brightly through his window, you can see just how much he craved you.

His smirk slowly fades away as he begins lowering himself where he latches his lips on yours once again. A soft moan vibrating through your lips as you feel the tip of his cock rubbing beautifully against your core, then a loud gasp filling the air between you two at the sudden feeling of firm fingers rubbing circles against that bundle of nerves. Causing your back to slightly rise off the bed with parted lips, which Karl immediately dives his warm tongue into your mouth, freely exploring your warmth.

“You are perfect,” He whispers against your lips, fingers still moving between your legs, collecting your wetness and spreading it along your mound before letting two fingers push past your folds,

Earning yet again another gasp and a moan from you. The feeling of his fingers slowly dragging in and out of your heated core has your eyes closing shut, breath picking its pace and grip on his shoulders tightening with every thrust of his hand. The moment he adds his thumb into the mix, it’s like a hurricane begins building at the pit of your stomach, your breath hitches in your throat when he speeds up his movements, your nails dig into his skin when the coil nears its end.

Once snapped, he didn’t even hesitate in pushing his aching member inside of you, nor did he warn you as he begins moving his hips into you. The feeling of his thickness stretching your walls with each pull he’d make only electrified your orgasm, nearly knocking the air from your lungs from how strong it had hit you.

“Fuck,” Karl groans at the sight of you; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open with breathless moans slipping past those raw lips of yours, completely melting under his hold,

Something he hoped to see one day. And here you are, all for him and only him.

Once he had eased up with the slow thrust of his hips, letting you calm down and catch a breather for a few seconds, you signal him to keep going with a small nod which he complies with a much firmer thrust, earning a breathless gasp from you again.

“Aroha ahau ki a koe,” You hear him whisper breathlessly in your ear over and over with each thrust he sends you,

Causing the same tears of joy, relief, and love to slip down your cheeks from the amount of emotions your were feeling at the moment. The feeling of your second orgasm approaching quicker than you thought, the way those words repeated in your ear every so often, reminding you and showing you just how much he meant his feelings towards you. Showed you just how much he’s longed for you, with everything combining into one the emotions become too much that you couldn’t help the tears to slip out.

One hand gripping onto the back of his dark locks, you gently but firmly tug on his hair, just enough to slot your lips with his. Allowing them to mold into one once again. Breathless pants were shared between you too as you both neared your peak, which didn’t take long. With one slight maneuver from Karl, the new position gave him the opportunity to plumage his member deliciously against that spot, causing you to once again melt under his hold. Nails digging painfully but beautifully against his skin, leaving red marks along his broad back as he continues with his thrusts.

“Aroha ana ahau ki a koe,” Was all you needed to whisper back for Karl to reach the end of the line,

With a loud, choked groan, he slams his hips into you one last time before feeling his own orgasm overpowering him. Sending him in a blissful state. Strong arms shook before him as they prevented him from crushing you, breath coming out in quick choked puffs through his nose as he rode it off, grunts rumbling in his throat every so often until he’s calm down.

Slowly and gently, he guides himself out of you, earning a faint whimper to vibrate in your throat at the empty feeling then a chilled feeling to rush through your entire body when you feel the way his seed drips down your raw core.

After a second or two of gathering your breath and coming down from your high, you open your eyes only to see his own closed shut. Hands still plastered on the bed on either side of your head to keep him upright you watch him as he takes in deep steady breaths through his nose before exhaling. A short smile tugs on your lips as you watch him, observing the way his hair slightly falls down his face, sweat glistening beautifully against his skin, making him look absolute stunning. Even under the dim light.

With no words, you let your left hand reach up, letting your fingers run through his dark beard until they reach his slightly damped locks. The gentle massages that your fingers apply against his scalp has those hazel eyes of his to finally be on display. They held sweet love in them the longer they lingered on yours, then watch as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lip before letting one hand cradle your cheek, thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Still smiling down at you with hazel orbs locked with your own he whispers, “Toku ao,”

Your brows slightly furrow at the unknown word, but a smile still tugged on the corner of your lips, “I don’t know that one,”

A faint chuckle fans your face. Hazel eyes not once leaving yours as he speaks once again, which not only widens your smile but also has your heart erupting from pure warmth and happiness with his next words.

“You’re my world,” Those beautiful hazel eyes of his that crinkle at the sides stare at you with so much love and light,

Bending down he closes the gap between you two, placing two long pecks on your lips before maneuvering himself to lay on his side where you are quick to cuddle right next to him. Your head on his chest, arm across his abdomen with one leg draped over his. You both stood awake for another ten minutes or so just talking about anything and everything, from sharing when exactly you both had realized one’s feelings to how was work to random topics really before finally falling asleep.

The way Karl would gently draw invisible shapes on your shoulder blades had you drifting away in matter of seconds, and the way your steady breathing would invade his ears Karl followed soon after. Leaving you both in a peaceful sleep while still holding onto each other.

Not once letting go, even when you both had moved during your sleep, neither one had slipped up. Karl knew this because around somewhere in the afternoon, his eyelids slowly open, the back of your head being his view. Hair surprisingly looking nicely combed and beautiful even through the night it had been through.

The thought of going back to sleep to get some more rest laid heavily behind his eyelids, but just as sleep would overtake him again the sound of banging on the door has him lifting his head from the pillows. Brows tightly furrowed as he wondered who can possibly be knocking at his door. Another rough bang against his door has him averting his eyes to your still sleeping frame, completely unaware of the intruding noise, showing him just how exhausted you must’ve been.

So with slow and careful moments he’s untangling himself from your hold before slowly climbing out of bed. Grabbing his briefs from the floor and slipping on some black sweats he quietly makes his way towards the door, where someone was determined in knocking down his door with those brutal knocks.

The moment he swings the door open and realizes who’s behind it, his face instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Standing outside his home with a dark grimace on their face was your ex. From what Karl can tell he hadn’t slept all night.

“Where is she?” He demands, hands quickly forming into fists at his sides,

“The fuckin’ nerve you’ve got comin’ here,” Karl snarls back, one hand gripping onto the door handle as the rage slowly boils in his veins,

“Where is she Urban?” The man tries again, taking a step forward as if to intimidate him, but what he didn’t know was with each step he took was only getting him closer to his own grave,

Karl scoffs, removing his hand from the doorknob to face him directly, “Not at your house that’s for sure,”

It was at that moment he’d realized where exactly you’d be. After taking in his appearance; no shirt, just sweats, hair completely a mess, all signs were clearly visible.

“You piece of shit,” He goes again taking another step but Karl took one step forward, stopping him in his tracks as he over towers him,

Hazel eyes looking directly at those slightly frightened blues of his.

“You never deserved her mate,” Karl claims, eyes turning firmer as he continues with, “Now how ‘bout you leg it, before I make you swallow your own fuckin’ teeth,”

The threat made a cold shiver run down Bryan’s back. He still displayed a firm look, hands balled into fists at his sides, but both men knew it was all a cover. Bryan truly didn’t know Karl and but he knew at that moment, this man would risk his entire career for you. Which not only frightened him but also worried him on the lengths he was willing to go for you.

So, with a weak attempt of displaying a tough look, he holds his glare until he turns around to walk away from the man’s front lawn. Karl watches him walk back to his car then watches him burn rubber like total asshole before finally walking back inside, realizing just how much rage was riding in his veins. His hands shook from the amount of anger he had and from the tight grip he kept to prevent him from lashing out, but with a deep inhale though his nose he makes his way back to his room.

Where you remained asleep.

Slowly and carefully to not wake you up, he climbs back into bed. The moment he settles on his side, you turn in your sleep, facing him directly, his grey sheets slightly slipping off your shoulder, revealing that beautiful skin of yours, revealing your gorgeous face.

Just by looking at you did it subside the anger he had. The effect that you had on him. It was also at that moment he realized just how madly in love he was with you, how he’ll do anything for you, protect you, love you, give you anything and everything in the world just to have that beautiful smile of yours on your face at all times. He promised himself and you, that last night will be the last night you cry in front of him, it will be the last time someone hurts you, he promised you he’ll always be there, your very own shinning armor protecting and guarding you till his very last breath.

He knew he wanted you in his life for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know he meant it the other way until the words softly slipped from his mouth, a part of him freaked at the sudden realization, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes just how truthful and right the words felt in his chest. He repeated it again in his head then as he brought his warm hazel eyes to your sleeping form, he lets them fall again as a promise.

“Ka marena ahau ki a koe,”

I’m going to marry you.

—————

-Went overboard with this one so… hope y’all liked it!

-Also if it feels rushed towards the end I sincerely apologize I was desperate to just finish this one and give it to y’all already.

-Another thing, I definitely do not speak Māori. So if anyone speaks it out there I deeply apologize if it’s not the right wording 😬😬

- Another, @butchers-girl hope it came out the way you requested, Ik you were constantly asking me how it was going and I appreciated it and I’m sorry I had you waiting this long but.. was definitely taking my time with this one to make it better. So again. Hope you liked this one and can’t wait to publish the rest of your requests! 🫶❤️❤️

- Lastly, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS. LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. ✨❤️

-Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

————

Word Bank:

Ātaahua: Beautiful.

Aroha ahau ki a koe: I love you.

Aroha ana ahau ki a koe: I love you too.

Toku ao: My World.

Ka marena ahau ki a koe: I’m going to marry you.

#karl urban #karl urban x reader #karl urban x ofc #Karl urban x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys tv #the boys x y/n #the boys x reader #the boys x you #billy butcher #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x ofc #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut

116 notes · View notes

softieteez · 1 year

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you can do a yunho imagine of collabing with idol s/o or crush with a dance performance which went viral and ppl start to ship them

Can you relate it to this video: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMLYv3F7f/

chemistry

link

note: i was so excited when i saw the link. these are two of my favorite dancers and this dance is my favorite. i love this request *update* this is from like forever ago but with everything i forgot about it, i hope you see this anon. idk how well i like this but.

pairing: idol!yunho x fem!idol!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, but mostly fluff

warning: hate, toxic fans (don’t be a toxic fan)

as the main dancer in a kpop group, your company often pushes you to do things like solo dances, special appearances, and now duets. you don't ever mind, you love dancing, but of course doing all these activities all the time definitely has it's flaws.

for example, stress, hate for always being pushed more than your other members, and now... dating rumors.

your company is very close with ateez's company, kq entertainment. so that meant that your songs usually get produced by their production team, you guys also get choreography from bbtrppin because the ceo of kq put in a good word. it has it's advantages. but your favorite thing about it is getting to actually meet ateez, which you've only done a couple times.

though the two of you groups aren't all that close, yet, your fandoms have caught onto the fact that there's a friendship there. so many twitter accounts to post 'crumbs' of ateez and your group. which are usually just you members talking about them or the other way around.

so it's safe to say that your fans love the chemistry that they haven't even seen, and it's brought in more attention to both of your groups. and we all know how kpop companies love attention and money.

and it seems as though the two companies came up with the perfect plan.

when you first heard the idea of you and yunho doing a duet together, you were kind of skeptical. mainly because idols don't really do that kind of stuff anymore, it's rare to see a male idol dance with a female idol. but at the end of the day, this is business, it's a professional setting. plus, yunho is a very tall, attractive man, and you would be lying to say you don't have a small thing for him. so you agree.

it was nearly shocking how good the chemistry between the two of you was, even in the beginning. now that you have been working on the dances for a while, you both have grown a pretty great friendship.

"ah! done" you grunt and fall onto the floor. you have to admit, this is one of the hardest dances you've done since your competition days.

yunho laughs, trying to catch his breath. he just stands there and looks at you laying all sprawled out on the floor. even when you're tired and sweaty, you were so beautiful to him, you always have been.

from the moment he saw your debut he had heart eyes for you. and when he met you and your group for the first time, it only grew. so you can only imagine how he felt when your ceo's told you about the duet idea.

"let's take a break, then we can go over the lift again" yunho clapped his hands laughing as you groan again.

you guys have been working on this dance for weeks, and it's been both amazing and stressful. but having yunho there made it easier, he was really good at coming up with plans, knowing when to take it slow. he's easy to work with.

the next day was the same routine, wake up, get dressed, meet yuhno at the dance studio and dance until after dark. but today would be only a tad bit different because the companies would be releasing a teaser picture today.

the picture is simply you and yunho stand with your back to the camera. your hands on your hips while yunho rests his elbow on your shoulder. you’re both wearing your performance outfits, which were quite simply but still nice.

it’s a good picture, so good that it’s your lockscreen.

“hey” yunho smiled when you walked in, he’s usually always here before you. because of this you bring him coffee and snacks to have during your breaks.

“hi” you return the smile and hand him his coffee. he finds it so endearing that even under stress and tiredness, you still find it in you to be so kind to everyone. coffee is just a small gesture, sure, but it’s more than that…

“ready to start?” he asked you as he put his coffee down after drinking a few sips. you let out a sigh and nod. you place your bag and coffee on the bench, taking your coat off and tying your hair up.

you were a perfectionist so you would always work until everything’s perfect. hongjoong and your leader, jiah, often point that out and scold which you which quite hypocritical of them. but even if yunho is in the bathroom, you’re practicing.

it’s like this for another week. for another week your members watch you get more anxious and stressed. for another week everyone gets more excited.

until… the day it releases.

“it’s up in five!” wooyoung yells, running into your groups dorms with the rest of the members following behind him. nayoon, your most hyper member has become quite close with wooyoung and san these days, no surprise to that.

“yah! you can’t just barge in peoples homes!” your oldest member, minyoung scolded. but soon calmed down when jiah explained that they were given permission to do so.

“hey! yn!” san smiled at you and gave you a high five.

“hi!” you giggle as he brings you into a hug. you greet all the ateez members, including yunho of course, before everyone sat in front of the tv waiting for the firestick to load.

“are you nervous?” yunho asked you. the rest of your members were all huddled on the couch so you two stood behind it.

“a little” you whisper, pinching the air with your thumb and pointer finger. “i just hope it turned out good”

“of course it turned out good!” jiah scolded you for thinking otherwise.

“yah! you guys have been working for a month to perfect this. it’s gonna be amazing!” hongjoong scolded as well. you and yunho chuckled at your leaders' similarities.

“they posted it!” mingi announced, seeing the notification on his phone.

the youngest member in your group, myung, nodded and loaded youtube. everyone screams when they see the video already in the recommended.

“ah! you guys look so cool in the thumbnail!” seonghwa smiled before the video started. while waiting for it to load, you got nervous. and when you’re nervous, you would usually hold your oldest member's hand for comfort. so you held yunho’s hand instead.

at first, he was shocked, but he gladly excepted without a second thought. he wrapped his fingers around yours, looking at your hands and chuckling over how small yours were compared to his.

“it’s starting shut up” nayoon hushed everyone.

“no one's eve-“

“shhh” nayoon cut myung off as the music began playing.

throughout the whole video, the members would scream out ‘woah’s and ‘oooh’s. wooyoung would just scream. you smiled the entire time, suddenly feeling an inner pride in yourself. yunho smiled every time you excitedly tugged his hand or made a face. he wasn’t sure what he looked at more, you, or the dancing. probably you.

he felt so happy to have shared the experience with you. the person he’s liked for so long. and even if you two remain friends, nothing more, he’s perfectly happy with that.

he snapped back into reality when everyone began clapping and cheering, suddenly becoming shy as everyone’s eyes were on the both of you. he felt his heart crack a little when you let go of his hand, though he understood.

“our yn-ie did so good!” jiah cheered and walked over to you, squeezing the life out your ribcage.

“unnie, can’t breathe”

after that, no one really checked the comments, knowing that it’d have some sort of effect on someone in the room. even if it’s not you or yunho, someone will get pissed.

ateez stayed for dinner before leaving back to their dorm. you and yunho texted until three in the morning that night talking about how happy you were. you were so so happy.

the next morning was the first one in a while where you didn’t have to do anything. so you slept in until minyoung walked into your room, shaking you awake.

“yn-ah, get up. we have something to show you”

you nod and wait for her to leave before getting up, changing into something warmer than what you wore to bed. walking into the living room, you notice the laptop is out. this usually happened after something would drop. the day after, you all would read comments so that nothing ruined your night of celebration.

“not a single bad comment found” myung smiled giddily at you and she drug you over to the laptop. she was right, all the comments were nice. and most of them were shipping you.

“people like you guys together” nayoon teased, wiggling her eyebrows. you chuckled and shake your head.

‘they’re chemistry is amazing!’

‘they’re so clean!!!’

‘wait but they’re so cute together!’

‘omg… new ship??’

you couldn’t believe you were being shipped with your crush, it was almost nerve-wracking. even though the idea of you and yunho dating made you smile a little, you can’t help but think it would make him uncomfortable.

your stomach churns as you read more, mostly english, comments on how you and yunho would make this cute couple. power couple.

“people really like you together” nayoon teased, earning a glare from your leader. they hadn’t seen those comments. they know your feelings for yunho, they also know that things like shipping with anyone makes you uncomfortable.

it’s not that you hate all shipping. no you’re pretty okay with people jokingly shipping you and your members, and jokingly shipping you and your other idol friends. as jokes. but these people aren’t joking. maybe most people would be over the moon happy about this, it only made you anxious.

“we didn’t see those ones” minyoung swore to you, and you trust her on that. they would never have you look at these comments if they saw them.

“it’s fine, i’m gonna go shower and stuff” you smile at your members and escape to the bathroom. you wash away your worries and stress of it all. finally just having a moment to breathe since you even started working on that dance.

when you got out of the shower, you just put sweats on again and relaxed. you had no schedule but you knew yunho did. he usually does honestly. but you wonder if he’s seen the comments, how he feels about them, if his members tease him the same way nayoon and myung have been.

you haven’t read from him yet today, which only made you more anxious. the worst case scenarios were running through your head. you sat in your room until you had the energy to leave it. you don’t want this to bug you too much, i mean it was expected with such a dance. a lot of skin contact, not to mention the amount of emotion it holds.

no one has really seen this type of dance from yunho either. from you? sure, but this was pretty new to him. some people knew he was taking contemporary classes, but you’re not sure if people realize just how fast he picks up choreo. the video gained millions of views in the first few hours, both fandoms combined showing just how powerful they are.

you were rewatching the dance, pointing out anything you might have messed up. but you can’t find much, you thank the camera work because the day of the filming you didn’t feel too confident. you were watching the lift when you get a text.

yunho:

did you see the comments???

you:

yeah…

yunho:

can i come over later?

you:

yeah.

yunho:

don’t worry, i’m not mad

i just wanna tell you something

you:

oh… okay… what time are you planning?

yunho:

around 5? if that’s okay with everyone

you:

yeah, see ya then

it would only be you and minyoung home. jiah already left to the studio early, which is no surprise. myung planned to go to dinner with her dad since he is visiting town. and nayoon is going shopping with some friends that she graduated with. minyoung had no plans, but you do now, kinda.

“hey” you call out, grabbing the oldest attention.

“hey, what’s up?” she asked, filling her cup with ice water.

“yunho’s gonna be over around five, you and i are gonna be the only ones home so i figured i’d let you know” you said, watching her face turn a little smug.

“oh, okay” she smirked

“what are you thinking” you squint your eyes at her

“oh nothing…” she continues smirking as she twists the lid onto her cup “just keep it pg” she completes as she leaves the kitchen

“unnie!”

a few hours have passed, it was now five but you lost track of time so you’re sitting on the couch eating grapes. minyoung was in her room, either sleeping or reading you never know. but she seemed to catch the time a while ago, she up and left to her room around 4:30.

you’re minding your own when you hear a knock. you look at the time and realize that it was indeed yunho. “coming!” you yell out. you place the bowl of grapes on the coffee table while getting up.

you open the door, seeing the much taller man standing in front of you. “hey” you breathe out and move out of his way to let him in. “hey” he repeats.

“we can go to my room if you want, minyoung is the only one here so…” you felt so awkward. you really didn’t mean to be though, you and yunho have grown a great friendship since you both began the dance. but the comments and the anxiety of why he was here in the first place was killing you.

“that works” he nods, following you to your well-decorated bedroom. you shut the door behind him and turn off the music that was playing in the back. the taller sits on you bed, waiting for you to take a seat next to him. you sit at the end of the bed, facing him with your legs crossed “so…” he looks like he’s thinking really hard on what to say.

“so?” you chuckle. he only lets out a deep breath, rubbing his hands on his sweats nervously before looking you in the eye. you begin growing even more anxious. ‘please just say something’

“uhm, the comments… i’m sorry about some of them. i know a lot of atiny-“

“it’s both our fans, it’s fine” you chuckle, thinking he’s talking about the shipping… but you can tell by his face something else is up.

“what- what comments do you think i’m talking about…”

oh?

“the-the shipping one’s… the girls showed me this morning…” your voice suddenly becomes small, what else could you be talking about?

his face drops slightly, a frown forming on his face, "i-i thought you seen the other ones," he said, more to himself rather than you.

"what other ones? i've seen the shipping ones and i thought maybe you were uncomfortable and thats wh-" you rambled on until he stopped you.

"no, no. i mean i've seen them but those aren't what i'm worried about, i was coming to make sure you're okay" he said worriedly, still shocked to learn that you haven't seen all the hate you've been receiving

"yeah, why wouldn't i be? what are the other comments?" you ask, reaching in your back pocket for your phone, but yunho grabs your arm just as you pulled your phone out. he reached his hand out for your phone. you hand it to him confused, but you don't question it. he takes your phone and puts it in his front pocket where his own phone was.

"it's nothing, if you haven't seen it that's good. i don't want you to see them" he said looking into your eyes with such sincerity that you've never experienced before. you knew there was going to be hate, but was it really that bad?

you nod your head and let it be "okay..." he smiles at you and gives you a hug.

"i'm glad you're okay" he sighed. you've received a lot of hate in the past, you're not sure why, but it's just part of the job. and as you gain more traction, the more it comes in. you and a couple of your members have been greatly affected by the hate before, you had to take a hiatus not too long ago. so you understood why yunho was so worried about it. "and the shipping comments, i really don't mind them" he comments as you both pull away from the hug.

"oh, w-what do you mean?" you thought he would be annoyed by it by now. all of you have been shipped with each other for so long, it gets old sometimes.

"i-i mean... i don't think they're wrong" he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. what does he mean? "i feel like we have great chemistry" he chuckled a little bit.

you giggled a little, the comments were quite silly. "yeah?"

"y-yeah. uhm, i have to confess something actually, if that's okay?" he looks at you as your heart rate raises, you nod and continue looking in his eyes "i really like you, y/n, and i was actually wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? maybe when the shipping comments die down" he chuckled at his last comment, hoping to lighten the awkward air.

"i really like you too yunho, i'd love to go out with you."

312 notes · View notes

seijorhi · 2 years

Text

Means to an End

Miya Atsumu x female reader x Miya Osamu

w.c 7.3k

tw: dub/non-con elements, yandere, drugged reader, cheating, toxic relationships, implied abuse

“Ame, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

The blonde pouts, lovely, long eyelashes fluttering, “It’s one weekend, for my birthday. Please? Don’t make me beg.”

Biting back a heavy sigh, you take her proffered phone, glancing down at the images of the picturesque onsen retreat flashing on the screen. And it does look amazing; traditional Japanese architecture, steam rolling across the natural springs and lush mountain views. Of course, Ame’s birthday is early-October, and by then the mountains and surrounding valleys will be awash in vibrant hues of red, orange and gold.

The whole thing oozes a calm, relaxing tranquillity and you can only imagine how lovely it’ll be if you do decide to go. The where has never been the issue. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, you know that,” you begin. “I’m… I don’t know if I’m all that comfortable spending a whole weekend with either one of them.” Especially not trapped in such close, cosy quarters for days on end. “I don’t want to ruin your birthday by making things all weird and tense.”

“You won’t ruin it at all, not if you come,” she hurries to reassure you. “Look, I’m not saying they’re angels or that how they treated you back then was in any way okay, but high school was years ago, and they’ve both grown up a lot since. They’re not the same assholes who used to pick on you, I promise. They’ll be on their best behaviour.”

“Ame–”

“Please,” she says as you set her phone back on the coffee table that separates the two of you. “Atsumu’s changed, Osamu too. I’m not saying let bygones be bygones, but… can’t you give them a chance? For me?”

She makes it sound like they went around pulling on your pigtails and calling you names, tripping you up in the hallways between classes. Not her fault, you suppose; Ame didn’t know the twins back then, nor you for that matter.

You, she met during your first year together at university, Atsumu (and by extension his brother) eight months ago when her company transferred her from Tokyo to Osaka.

No, it’s not her fault. She knew the vague bits and pieces you’d shared over the years, but you’re the one who swallowed the truth down the day she called to gush over her new stupidly hot, talented, Olympic volleyball playing boyfriend.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” you concede quietly.

Ame beams at you, “You won’t regret it!”

—

“You know you didn’t have to drive, right? Osamu’s jeep would’ve fit all of us perfectly fine,” Ame calls out in lieu of a greeting, walking down the ryokan’s steps.

You shrug, “I like driving.” That, and it makes you feel the teeniest bit better knowing you have an escape route if this whole thing goes sideways.

There’s a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she comes in for a hug that tells you she doesn’t quite buy it. She embraces you tightly in spite of it, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

If she were anyone else, you think, you wouldn’t be. For Ame, you’ll suffer through this weekend with a smile – or as close to one as you can manage. “This place is beautiful,” you comment, changing the subject as she helps you with your bags.

“You should see inside, the pictures really didn’t do it justice,” she gushes. “Oh, and the onsen – we have two, it’s amazing! I’ve been waiting forever for this trip and now that we’re here it’s literally so perfect! Did I tell you that Atsumu hired a private chef for us?” Happily chattering away, she takes no notice, perhaps deliberately so, of the deep, steadying breath you draw in before you reach the door.

The last time you’d laid eyes on either one of them was the night of (morning after?) graduation, and considering how that ended… is it any wonder your heart’s lodged firmly in your throat? That you feel that same pit in your stomach that you used to have every morning walking through the school gates?

Yet Ame… Ame’s positive that they’ve changed. And maybe you don’t have any faith in the Miya’s twins and the possibility of leopards changing their spots, but you have faith in her, don’t you?

She’s a good person. She wouldn’t be with someone who, who–

Without so much as looking over her shoulder, Ame reaches back, fingers entwining with yours. Another breath in, and you follow when she steps inside. “Tsumu and I’ve got the room on the left, and Osamu’s in the one down the other end” she tells you, pointing towards the respective bedrooms. “Which leaves you in the one next to ours.”

You’re barely nodding along however, because with one leaning over the kitchen bench and the other seated on the sofa near the crackling fireplace, the realisation that you’re once again face to face with the Miya twins is kind of taking all of your focus.

And they’re staring; matching unreadable expressions boring into you like a bug under a magnifying glass. It’s an effort for you not to fidget as the silence seems to stretch.

You’ve seen Atsumu plastered throughout Ame’s social media feeds, and the odd glimpse of his twin, yet now that they’re both right here in front of you, you’re struck by how little they’ve changed in the years since you saw them last.

They’re bigger than they were back then, both in height and their sheer physical size, though that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Especially not in Atsumu’s case, what with him being some big shot professional athlete now. Osamu’s hair’s a bit darker, Atsumu’s a little blonder. They both have it cropped shorter, too, you notice. All superficial things, probably no different to the small changes in your own appearance.

And it isn't that you expected some big, dramatic change, only that seeing them here, now… it’s whiplash. As if you could blink, and you’d be right back there again; shoved back against their lockers, the two of them looming over you.

Ame, ever your saviour, is the one to break the silence, gently dropping off your bag before flitting to her boyfriend’s side. “Tsumu, baby, you remember–”

“Nah, not really,” The blond tilts his chin, appraising you even as he lifts his arm for Ame to slip under, “Ame says you went to Inarizaki High, in the same year as us or somethin’?”

Osamu snorts, “She was in our class for three years, dumbass.”

His brother shrugs, “So? Am I s’posed to remember every scrub we went to school with?”

While the bickering between the pair is nothing new, Atsumu’s sudden lapse in memory strikes a chord of surprise – and you don’t buy it for a second.

He’s certainly arrogant enough, self absorbed enough, talented enough to purge all but the few people deemed important from his past – friends and rivals mostly. If all you’d been was another girl in the crowd, it wouldn’t have mattered how smart you were, how close you sat, or how loudly you clamoured for attention, leaving a lasting impression on the great Miya Atsumu would’ve been an uphill battle.

You’d seen it in action; the revolving door of girlfriends shoved out of mind the moment he grew tired of fucking them.

And through it all, you were a constant. A puppy to torment when the mood struck. They hounded you through the hallways of Inarizaki, isolated you, hurt you.

Took and took and took ‘til they were satisfied.

So no, you don’t believe that either one of the twins has forgotten you. For Ame’s benefit, though, you force yourself to smile pleasantly, “It’s fine,” you say, addressing none of them in particular. “We weren’t exactly friends.”

From his position behind her, Atsumu smirks.

—

Dinner swings around quicker than you’d like.

While the chef they hired moves throughout the kitchen with a single minded focus, Ame ushers the three of you to the beautifully crafted, oak table in the centre of the living space. Osamu, for his part, swipes a bottle of expensive looking sake from the counter on his way through, and wastes no time at all in dropping down into the seat to your left and cracking it open.

“You want one?” he asks, grey eyes shifting towards you. He’s already pouring it though, sliding the glass your way before you can answer.

‘We’re celebratin’, aren’t we? One drink won’t kill ya.’

Clearing your throat, you push it back, “I’m good, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Atsumu chimes in. “I brought this ‘specially for tonight, ain’t a proper party without good booze.”

‘Y’know it’s rude to refuse the hosts.’

Slowly – deliberately – he pushes the sake back towards you. “Try some, you’ll like it.”

A little belatedly, you realise something in his earlier comment doesn’t sit right. “… What do you mean you bought it for tonight? Ame’s birthday isn’t ‘til tomorrow,” you remind him, frowning a touch.

You’re well aware that Atsumu’s of the belief that the world revolves around him, but surely even he can’t have mixed that one up. At least, you hope not for Ame’s sake.

Atsumu gives you an odd look, like you’re a complete moron. “Yeah, I know that, I’m not…” he trails off, his gaze shifting from you to the blonde in question, who’s suddenly extremely interested in the edge of her place setting. Beside you, Osamu snickers, Atsumu opting for a wide grin as the pieces fall together in his head. “Ah, she didn’t tell ya, did she?”

You frown, “Tell me what?”

Steadfastly refusing to meet your eye, Ame’s cheeks turn a dusky pink as she fiddles with her chopsticks. “I um, I told you today’s the twins’ birthday, didn’t I?”

No, and she knows that full well. Just as she knows that you never would’ve let her talk you into this trip at all if you’d had so much as an inkling that it wasn’t solely about celebrating her birthday, but theirs too.

At least it makes sense now why Osamu’s here, why Atsumu bothered shelling out for this fancy villa and the expensive alcohol, the private chef diligently working away in the kitchen, pretending not to overhear a word of this.

A sick feeling settles in your gut.

Back then, you used to dread it. The twins were insufferable enough on an average day, their sense of entitlement over you only ever skyrocketing whenever their birthday rolled around. It never mattered what else was going on; exams, qualifiers, girlfriends, Osamu and Atsumu always found time to collect – whether you were willing to give or not.

And now you’re faced with a deeply uncomfortable thought; were you invited here this weekend for your best friend’s sake, or the twins’?

Ame was adamant that they’d changed, and despite your own reservations about that, you’d nevertheless assumed that they’d grown out of whatever… interest they’d had in you. The idea that you’re both wrong isn’t one that you want to entertain. Not when Ame’s happy, not when you’ve worked so, so hard to put all of those awful memories behind you.

It’s only one weekend, you remind yourself. One weekend, for her sake.

“Nope,” you murmur, feigning a light laugh. “Must have slipped your mind.”

She knew and lied to you anyway, and while there’s some small sense of vindication at the guilty look she sends you, it does little to ease the bitter sting in your heart.

You push back the sake one last time. “Anyway, I don’t drink.”

Another lie. This time, mercifully, Ame keeps her mouth shut, reaching across the table to take the drink herself. “More for me,” she says with a weak grin, and proceeds to knock it back in only a few mouthfuls, much to her boyfriend’s amusement.

Nothing more’s said on the topic, because at that moment the chef appears at the table, the entrée course in hand.

You could honestly kiss him.

—

Sleep is evasive.

Not for lack of trying. Despite the unfamiliarity of your room, the bed and the pillows are perfect; soft and warm, you could close your eyes and sink into blissful oblivion–

If not for the moans, the gasps and unmistakable sounds of loud, drunken sex seeping in through the thin walls.

And you have to give them credit, they’ve been going at it for a while, and judging from the sounds of things, enjoying themselves plenty. An hour ago, it was uncomfortable, now you’re simply tired and frustrated, and honestly a little thirsty.

And the longer you lie there, listening to your best friend moan her way through yet another orgasm and regretting your decision to leave your headphones at home – your decision to come at all – the more that it eats away at you.

Surely they know you can hear them? You’re beginning to suspect that Osamu opted for the room on the opposite side of the villa for this very reason, and you wonder what it’d take to get him to swap you for it tomorrow.

Knowing Osamu, likely more than you’d be willing to give.

Another grunt, deep and guttural echoes through the room, and you squeeze your eyes shut, silently counting backwards from ten. Impressive pro-athlete stamina or not, eventually they’re going to wear themselves out, right? They have to, for the sake of your sanity if nothing else.

Instead of blissful quiet, you’re met with the muffled sounds of Ame’s giggling, the rustle of sheets and after a beat or two, the slapping of skin against skin begins anew. Your stomach churns, and with a huff, you kick back your covers and reach blindly for the thick, fluffy robe to ward off the cold, cocooning yourself in it.

The soft pad of your slippers is muted against the wooden floorboards as you slip from your room, easing the door closed and tip-toeing back into the living area. If you’re lucky, the fire will still be burning away. You can make yourself a cup of tea, curl up on the couch and read a book on your phone, or scroll aimlessly – anything to distract yourself until Ame and Atsumu tire themselves out.

You get half your wish. The logs in the fireplace are smouldering away, casting the room in a warm, golden glow – enough to keep the temperature toasty without bordering on stuffy. In spite of that, any hope you had of temporary peace and quiet goes up in smoke at the sight of the other Miya twin in the kitchen, watching you with that same inscrutable expression.

It shifts into a small smirk, however, when you falter, drawing up short on the opposite side of the island counter.

“Fuckin’ animals, aren’t they?” Osamu comments drily, jerking his chin towards the direction you'd emerged from, where the faint sounds of Atsumu and Ame going at it are still drifting out.

You swallow, saying nothing.

He’s dressed in sweatpants and an old tee-shirt that clings to his well built frame – which admittedly is less than you’re wearing, yet your fingers itch to tug at your robe and pull it tighter around yourself, despite knowing you’re covered. Osamu’s always had that effect on you though, those dark, grey eyes never failing to make you feel like you’re stripped bare before him. A butterfly pinned back beneath his heavy stare.

A shiver rolls down your spine.

With Ame around, you don’t have any choice but to keep your mouth shut and pretend that everything’s okay. Which is doable, only because you know that they also have to be on their best behaviour whilst she’s in earshot. One on one, without that safety net, facing Osamu fills you with a new kind of apprehension.

Ever since you arrived, he’s been treating you with this bizarre kind of … cursory friendliness. As if you really are nothing more than a friend of his brother’s girlfriend. An old classmate he vaguely recalls.

There’s no need for either one of you to keep up that charade, now that he has you alone.

If he’s bothered by your silence and wary stance, Osamu gives no indication. “Ya want some tea?” he asks you instead. “Freshly brewed.”

You eye the steaming pot in front of him, the cup innocuously set to the side. And despite the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s only tea, you shake your head. “I’m fine.”

The corner of his lips twitch, amusement glittering in his eyes, but Osamu only shrugs, “Your loss,” and pours a cup for himself.

With Atsumu and Ame showing no signs of slowing down for the night, going back to your room to listen to them screwing each others’ brains out for another hour or two is hardly an appealing thought. On the other hand, staying out here with Osamu, walking on eggshells as he pushes and prods you under the guise of small talk fills you with a distinctly unpleasant sense of trepidation.

And the longer you hesitate, caught halfway between your bedroom and the kitchen, Osamu watching every microexpression flit across your face with near predatory focus while he sips at his tea, the more awkward the atmosphere becomes.

Not for the first time, you find yourself wishing you’d had the guts to tell Ame no in the first place.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “I came out for some water.” Which isn’t a lie, per se. You are thirsty, and once you have your glass of water, you can go and take it somewhere else to drink. Anywhere else. The open courtyard that lies between the living room and the indoor onsen, or the terrace that skirts around the western side of the villa. There’s a thick, knitted blanket thrown over the couch, you can grab that on your way through to keep yourself warm if worse comes to worst.

You’d rather brave the mid-autumn iciness than stay in here with him.

Whether or not he believes the hastily concocted excuse, Osamu doesn’t give an indication, merely stepping back to allow you enough room to awkwardly slip past him.

“Y’know,” he begins in a conversational tone as you start opening up various cupboards in search of a fresh glass, “I‘m glad you’re here. S’good seeing you again.”

Pointedly, you ignore him.

Back when you were teenagers, Atsumu was always the more temperamental of the pair. He’d lash out over the tiniest things – a practice that hadn’t gone well, Osamu getting a better grade on a test, you, for making him trek all the way across campus in order to track you down.

At the end of the day, it usually didn’t matter what trivial thing had set him off, he’d inevitably find a way to make his frustrations your problem. And yet for all Atsumu’s irritability, you can’t forget that Osamu was no saint either – or that neither one of them appreciated it when you didn’t pay them the attention they felt they were owed.

Caught between him and the countertop, there’s no room for you to escape when he decides to close that gap once more, calloused hands finding their home on your hips, his broad chest at your back.

Slowly, he inhales, fingers digging harshly into the soft flesh – paying no mind to your pitiful struggles.

“I missed ya.”

The scent of his body wash, that fresh, woodsy musk, tickles at your nose, you can feel the heat permeating from his skin as he presses himself closer. Grinds himself against you, simply because he can. You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. This can’t be happening again, it can’t, it can’t, it can’t–

“I hate you.” The words slip out before you can stop them; a trembling whisper, almost lost to the crackling fire, the sound of wind rustling through the trees outside.

Almost, but not quite.

Osamu hums, “Yeah? S’that why ya ran off on us after graduation?”

Your stomach flips. “I-I don’t–”

His mouth now at your ear, Osamu continues, his voice a deep rumble, “We took care of ya, didn’t we? Made ya feel good? You were beggin’ for it by the end.” You tremble in his gasp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out, from begging as he turns his attention to the knot at the front of your robe, “At least, I sure thought we had a good time, ‘til we woke up to find you’d up and disappeared on us.”

He sounds angry now, all of that faux affability bleeding away into something decidedly colder.

And with every word that leaves his lips, the nausea churning away inside of you only grows. You’ve worked hard to forget that morning, the pure panic you’d felt waking up naked between them, your head fuzzy and throbbing, your body a wreck of foreign aches and finger shaped bruises.

Nimble fingers succeed in untying the knot, Osamu impatiently tugging the fabric aside. You should be putting up a fight, clawing at his arms, kicking out, screaming like a wild thing. Ame’s only in the next room, there’s no chance she wouldn’t hear, wouldn’t come running to investigate, wouldn’t stop this, but–

A silent tear spills down your cheek.

You’ve never told a soul what happened at that party – the little you remember of it anyway – just shoved it down, buried it deep in some untouchable recess of your mind.

Easier to pretend it never happened than agonise over the doubt that festers whenever you prod too close.

You don’t remember, you don’t remember, you don’t remember, you don’t remember how much you had to drink that night–

Ignoring the small, distressed whine that escapes you, Osamu slides a hand beneath your top, a muscular arm curling around your middle. His thumb strokes along your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, a pool of shame that deepens with every possessive touch.

There’s no mistaking the thick, hard outline of his cock pressing up against your ass as he idly toys with the waistband of your pajama shorts.

“Y’know, Ame told us your news.” Teeth graze at your earlobe, hot breath sweeping along your neck, “You’re finally comin’ home, huh?”

The admission has you flinching, buckling in on yourself as much as Osamu’ll allow – which admittedly isn’t much. The thought that your best friend would even consider telling the twins hadn’t occurred to you, too excited when you’d rang her with the good news to stop and think about things like consequences.

A new job as an editor; better paying, closer to your family, to her. At the time, it’d seemed too good to be true. Only now it feels like some kind of cosmic joke, and all you want to do is curl up into a ball and disappear entirely.

Osamu isn’t like his brother, who’d take pleasure in your obvious dismay, even mock you for it, but there’s still something unmistakably cruel about the way he kisses your hair, and tells you, “Guess the three of us are gonna have to have a little welcome back party for ya.”

And you’re sure in that moment that he’s going to yank down the shorts he’s been toying with, bend you over the counter and fuck you right there and then. Or maybe push you down to your knees like they used to back behind the locker rooms at school, so it takes you by surprise when out of nowhere, he simply squeezes your waist once more and withdraws, trudging back to his room without another word.

Leaving you shaken and alone, a hand clamped over your mouth to stifle the sound of ragged, terrified sobs.

—

You can’t stay here.

Stacked neatly by the door to your room are your bags, packed in the early hours of the morning after you finally gave up on fitful sleep. But despite the strong urge to slip away at dawn, you still haven’t left yet.

You can’t bring yourself to, at least, not until you’ve talked to Ame. Had the chance to explain why you’re all but running out on her.

Not the full truth, of course – you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to give her that – but some variation of it, maybe. And you’ll simply have to pray that she’ll take it at face value, that she won’t pry too deep or hold it against you.

That you won’t lose your best friend over this when all’s said and done, because you can’t lie to her either.

By the time you finally venture out from your bedroom, you find the chef already working on breakfast in the kitchen, Ame and Atsumu settled at the table, the latter’s arm casually slung over the back of her chair as she sips her morning coffee.

She brightens at the sight of you, a wide, beaming grin that somehow makes her look even lovelier than usual.

One smile, and you falter, that steely determination of yours withers away, crumbling like ash in your mouth.

“Morning!” she greets cheerfully. “Are you hungry? I don’t think breakfast’s too far off, but there’s tea and coffee if you want it.”

One smile, and you’re reminded of the girl you met back at university, bright eyed and bubbly, who’d sat down next to you on the first day of semester and told you point blank that you and her were gonna be friends, because there was no way in hell she was gonna make it through this class alone.

She looks happy, glowing almost, nestled into her boyfriend’s side. Yet there’s something different about it, an easy contentment you’ve never seen before – at least, not in any of her previous relationships.

And it hits you; Ame isn’t merely happy, she’s in love with him.

Before her, before high school, before the Miya’s, you’d had other friends. Ones you thought would stick by your side through thick and thin. Inevitably, though, as you entered high school together, caught the twins’ attention, those friends were forced to make a choice.

You, or staying in the twins’ good graces.

In the end, whether it took days or weeks, a whole semester in one case, they all came to the same conclusion. Between being your friend and standing up to the wonder twins, there never seemed to be much competition.

As your eyes flicker between the couple, Atsumu’s fingertips grazing along her arm, the lazy, watchful eyes that bore into you, Ame, perfectly at peace around him, still smiling at you in spite of your very obvious hesitation, your heart sinks once more.

‘I’m not complaining, but... I just don’t understand why you want me there, wouldn’t it be better if it was only the two of you; a big, romantic couples getaway or whatever?”’

‘Because I wanna celebrate with both of my favourite people. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you… Is it so awful that I want you guys to have a second chance?’

History has a funny way of repeating itself, you suppose.

Swallowing down the bitter lump in your throat, you plaster what you hope is a genuine looking smile across your face and lean over the table to hug her – awkwardly trying to avoid Atsumu in the process, “Happy Birthday.”

Coward.

“Thanks,” she replies. “Tsumu gave me the prettiest earrings this morning, look,” sweeping back her thick, blonde locks, she shows off the new, sparkling diamond drops as you sit. “Aren’t they stunning?”

“They’re gorgeous,” you agree. Expensive looking, too – exactly the sort of showy, ostentatious gift you’d expect from Atsumu.

Lips parted, she looks on the verge of continuing when Atsumu – unusually quiet up until this point – decides to drawl, “You’re lookin’ rough this morning, didja sleep alright?”

If anyone else had asked, you could be forgiven for mistaking the query for a well meaning – albeit poorly worded – expression of genuine concern. Atsumu’s incapable of such sentiments, though, and even if he weren’t, the half lidded smirk he sends your way puts any lingering doubts of sincerity to bed.

“How could she?” another voice answers; Osamu, emerging from his room, hair still damp from his morning shower.

Sparing you only a cursory glance, he slots himself into the chair beside yours and reaches for the pot of tea. “You two were fuckin’ loud enough to wake half the damn mountain,” he continues, narrowing his eyes at his brother who scowls in return.

In a way, you almost feel sorry for the chef. Amidst the bickering and sniping of the twins, Ame’s flustered, blushing apologies, no one seems to really pay attention to the breakfast spread he lays upon the table, plates laden with everything from fruit to freshly baked pastries and omelettes to miso and rice. More food than the four of you could ever hope to eat in a single sitting.

You’re sure that he’s talented, that the plates of food he’s painstakingly plated this morning are as delicious as they are lovely to look at – last night’s certainly were.

The few mouthfuls you manage to swallow down taste like ash.

—

Your day does not improve from there.

Whilst the twins are left to their own devices, Ame drags you along with her to the ryokan’s day spa for a morning of pampering, which isn’t terrible in and of itself. The masseuse works wonders with deft hands, and your skin feels impossibly soft and smooth after she’s finished.

You should feel relaxed. You should be enjoying yourself – especially now that it’s back to being just the two of you. After breakfast, though, you can’t escape the feeling that something’s shifted, perhaps irrevocably.

In all the time you’ve been friends with Ame, you’ve never felt distance like this before. She’s only a few feet away, the two of you left alone to relax as the treatments work their magic, yet there may as well be a mountain between you.

You can’t reach her.

Lighthearted small talk lapses into nothing, and you catch yourself wondering whether Ame senses it too. If she has any inkling that the silence that settles between you isn’t the comfortable sort, but the fraying of a tether. A loss of something that once came as naturally as breathing.

A secret that stretches between you like a wide, yawning chasm, leaving you miles apart on either side.

You nearly tell her a few times. You want to tell her; about Osamu cornering you yesterday, all the awful things they put you through back at Inarizaki, the night of graduation. All of it.

But the words don’t come.

—

“Why are you wearing that?”

“It’s… a swimsuit?” you reply, somewhat self consciously. The one-piece you’d slipped on for the hot springs was modest, sure, but you hadn’t thought it was awful or anything. “What’s wrong with it?”

Ame, herself clad in a soft, pink robe, just giggles, “It’s an onsen, silly. We’re not wearing swimsuits.”

What else would you–

Realisation hits you like a freight train. “Naked?!” you splutter.

She laughs again, “Yes, naked. Why are you so surprised, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“Yeah, when we were alone!”

“Oh, don’t be like that, it’s totally normal – they’re just bodies.” And yours is nothing they haven’t seen before, that cruel voice in your head whispers.

The sick feeling from this morning returns with a vengeance.

Ame’s not wrong, but it’s not that simple.

You know that being naked isn’t inherently a sexual thing, that people have for hundreds of years, thousands even, bathed in springs like this one all over the country bare as they day they were born and no one makes a fuss over it. You know that the twins’ have seen you in far more compromising positions, and that with Ame right there beside you, the chances of either one of them acting up in any way is practically non-existent.

You know all of that, and it doesn’t change a thing.

The thought of stepping into those steaming baths without so much as a stitch to protect your dignity, of trying to relax with the twins – equally undressed – less than a foot away–

A weight slung heavy over your waist, prying open sluggish eyes to find your pillow isn’t a pillow at all, but a chest.

– it’s too much. Dredges up memories of things better left alone.

“Actually, um,” you tell her, “my head’s been killing me all morning… I don’t think stewing in hot water’s such a great idea right now. Might go and lie down for a bit instead, see if that helps.”

Ame studies you for a long moment. “They’re not gonna say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Reaching over, she takes your hand in hers and squeezes it, offering you a small, reassuring smile, “They’re not those guys anymore.”

Your heart tugs painfully.

“No, I know. It’s not that, I promise.”

From the doubtful, almost wounded expression on her face, it’s clear she doesn’t believe you. “Okay, well… If you change your mind you’re more than welcome to join us. It won’t be as much fun without you.”

You nod, letting your hand fall limply back to your side as she turns to leave.

At the door, though, she hesitates, and when she glances back to you there’s a furrow in her brow. “Hey, we’re… we’re good right?” she asks, and for the first time all weekend, you think you hear a note of worry in her voice.

None of this is her fault, you know that. You force yourself to smile, to nod again.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

—

When a knock sounds at your door a few hours later, you’re expecting it to be Ame, coming to check in on you.

Instead, the door slides open to reveal her boyfriend.

Atsumu leans against the doorframe, arms folded, and gives you – lying back against the pillows, flicking through an old book you’d found in one of the drawers – a slow once over.

The soft sound of music filters in behind him.

“We missed ya earlier,” is all he says.

As it’s not technically a question, you don’t offer him a response.

“Ame said you had to go lie down, but you’re lookin’ fine to me,” he continues, and from the tone of his voice you can tell he doesn’t buy the excuse for a second. That, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. “Anyway, we’re having some drinks. You coming, or are ya planning on hidin’ away in here for the rest of the night?”

Your eyes narrow, but you bite back any retort in favour of a short nod.

Sure enough, when the two of you emerge from your room, Ame and Osamu are chatting over a bowl of snacks, the blonde sporting a pink-ish cocktail, a beer for Osamu.

There’s another glass lying on the island countertop, which Atsumu grabs on his way through. “Don’t worry, it’s a virgin,” he smirks, pressing it into your hand before you can refuse him. “Sleepin’ beauty here finally decided to join us,” he announces a little louder, dropping a kiss to Ame’s cheek as he slots into place beside her. “Can we drink now?”

Sighing with a fond sort of exasperation, Ame ignores the comment. “How’re you feeling?”

“Yeah, much better.”

She smiles at you, warm and lovely, and raises her glass, “Yes, Tsumu, now we can drink.”

You follow suit as the twins do the same; one sip for a toast won’t do any harm. You don’t have the energy – or a good enough excuse – to make a big deal out of it.

Especially not when things with Ame still feel so precarious.

Atsumu shifts, turning slightly to better face her. “Ame, I love ya more ‘n more every day. Bein’ with you…” he smiles. Not a smirk, but a genuine, honest to god smile. “You’ve given me more than you’ll ever know. Happy Birthday, baby.”

Coaxing her chin up, you’re subjected to a tongue-heavy but mercifully brief kiss between the pair.

“Cheers,” Osamu finishes in his stead, the three of you echoing the toast with a knock of your drinks.

The first sip of the pink concoction hits with a wave of saccharine sweetness; strawberry, peach, mint, a weird sort of aftertaste that lingers even after you swallow the mouthful down – syrup, maybe? – but when all’s said and done, it’s not… awful. You’ve had worse.

Ame, for her part, has already downed most of her cocktail, her cheeks and nose flushing a delicate pink in the wake of the alcohol.

“So tell us about this fancy new job of yours. When‘re ya moving back?” Atsumu asks, eyeing you over the neck of his beer as his girlfriend snuggles happily into his side.

“Um, not for another three weeks or so.” You shrug, “And there’s really not much to tell… It’s a job.” And you don’t want them anywhere near it.

“She’s being modest,” Ame chimes in, voice carrying a little louder than necessary. “They’re making her editor, it’s a huge deal! She’s worked her ass off for this.”

You’d said as much to her the day they made you the offer, called her before you’d even thought to call your parents.

From her place by Atsumu’s side, she gives you a tiny, encouraging nod.

Any other time, with anybody else, you’d beam, taking the opportunity presented to gush over the new title and your excitement over finally making it after years of hard work. But with the twins, every little piece you offer up, however small, however unwittingly, feels like handing them the knife and showing where to slice.

This job is everything you’ve worked for, dreamed of.

Fingers tightening around your glass, you remind yourself that Ame means well, that she’s just excited on your behalf. Proud of you, even. ��It’s really nothing.”

And simply because you can’t stand the way that they’re all staring at you, you take another sip – barely holding back a grimace at the punch of artificial sweetness.

The older twin mirrors you, throat bobbing as he slowly downs the rest of his beer, but it’s Osamu, cold, grey eyes drinking down your discomfort, who clicks his tongue dismissively and shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sell yourself short. It’s impressive, ‘n ya should be proud.”

“Oh, uh… Thanks, I guess.”

You risk a glance at the empty kitchen, a tug of disappointment filling you when you notice Atsumu’s chef has yet to make an appearance. Not because you’re hungry – no, with the knots your stomach has twisted itself into, food is the furthest thing from your mind – only that with dinner comes the chance of a much needed reprieve, and at this point, you’re beginning to grow desperate.

“Yeah,” his brother agrees, setting the now empty bottle down. “Samu’s right, look at’cha.” He whistles lowly, “Who’da thought our cocksuckin’ little whore’d be out here making editor.”

Reeling back like you’ve been physically slapped, your breath leaves you in a sharp gust. “W-what?”

Ame mumbles something – his name, maybe – your attention is wholly fixed on her boyfriend, though, and if either of the twins pick up on it, they elect to ignore it.

He shrugs, the casual nonchalance of the gesture spoiled by the sheer delight that gleams in his expression. “I’m just surprised s’all. I never knew ya had it in ya, but I guess anythin’s possible when ya get on your knees quick enough.”

“Tsu…Tsumu–”

The sound of glass shattering rips through the tense atmosphere, pulling your focus from the twins. Ame, brow furrowed, eyes glassy and unfocused, stares at her boyfriend, mouth softly agape.

At her feet lies her cocktail, or what’s left of it – dregs of alcohol clinging to broken shards of crystal.

Something’s wrong, though, because she isn’t cuddling up to Atsumu as you’d originally assumed. No, Ame’s clinging to him now, fingers clawing at his clothes for purchase, her legs shaky and weak, struggling to keep her upright.

“I- I don’ feel s’good,” she slurs.

Your heart stutters.

“Ame–”

Without thinking you leap towards her, but Osamu’s there quicker, grabbing you and hauling you back against his chest, thick arms curling around your waist before you can shove him away.

His chin comes to a rest atop your head. “Nah, let her be,” he tells you,“ Tsumu’s got her.”

And his brother might be the olympic athlete, but broad and strong, Osamu’s equally as immovable as you wrench yourself against him. “Let me go! Ame– Ame!”

Her legs give out entirely a moment later, leaving Atsumu to catch her in the split seconds before she hits the glass studded floor.

“Y’all right, baby?” he asks mockingly, reaching down to heft her up into his arms. Tiny as she is, he manages it without so much as a grunt. “Gettin’ a little sloppy there.”

You shout for her again, voice hoarse and desperate.

She tries – fails – to lift her head, and the icy terror that grips at your heart sinks its claws in deep as you watch your best friend’s eyes roll back into her skull, her body slumping like dead weight into Atsumu’s hold.

This– this has to be a nightmare.

Your gaze darts from Ame, now hanging limply in his grip, to Atsumu, who meets your stare with a slowly widening smirk, and from a leaden tongue in a dry mouth, you manage to choke out a single syllable; “Don’t–”

Don’t touch her. Don’t hurt her.

Please.

It falls to Osamu, hand now rubbing slow, soothing circles against your hip, to reassure you. “Not her ya need to be worried ‘bout, babe.”

The comment sends a fresh wave of panic surging through you. You whine, weakly renewing your effort to tug yourself free of his grasp, making him chuckle.

He relents his grip enough to turn you around, and you’re spared the sight of Atsumu dumping Ame onto the couch as he grasps your jaw. The brunet studies you, a thumb tracing along quivering lips.

A lone tear slips from your lashes, and with a tenderness that breaks something inside of you, he brushes that away, too.

“Gonna be good for us, yeah?” he murmurs, dark eyes searching your face. You’re vaguely aware of Atsumu closing in on your other side.

And it doesn’t matter that the words get stuck in your throat, that tears start falling quicker, because his twins scoffs, “Course she is.”

Your car’s parked out front, the keys in your purse – which is lying somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. As Osamu’s lips curl in satisfaction and descend upon yours, there’s a tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you in no uncertain terms to run.

You can almost picture it; shoving him off and ducking under Atsumu’s outstretched arms. You’ve never held any delusions about being strong enough to physically fight them, but you can be quick on your feet when you need to be.

Forget Ame, it whispers – you’d race for your room, snatching up your purse on your way through and slipping out onto the terrace balcony through the sliding door. The railing with its thick wooden beams would be easy enough to clamber over, and the drop to the grass below only a few feet. You could make it, if you were fast enough.

You doubt they’d follow you out into the grounds – too much of a risk, too many prying eyes – and once you were safe inside your car, you’d drive and drive and drive, until the twins and this awful place were nothing but a lone speck in the distance…

Hands impatiently yank at the hem of your sweater, Osamu parting from your lips just long enough to allow the fabric to be yanked over your head.

A belt buckle clinks behind you, and that tiny voice falls silent.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere osamu #yandere atsumu #tw: noncon #tw:dubcon #you ever just wanna throw a fic across the room??#:))

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south-of-heaven · 9 months

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Hi! Can I please request Dominick Mysterio/Reader/Damian Priest with the boys comforting the reader after really bad date? Maybe she calls them crying and they come pick her up and take her back to their place and tell her how amazing she is and she deserves better?

Thank you as always!!

Better || Damian Priest x Reader x Dominik Mysterio

Summary: You call Damian after escaping a horrid date. Him and Dom come pick you up.

Warnings: Allusions to past trauma and mental abuse.

The echoes of a horrible date still linger in your mind, a dark cloud overshadowing your thoughts. The restaurant's facade seems to mock you as you stand outside, tears streaming down your face. The evening had turned into a nightmare when the guy you went out with revealed his true colors – controlling, misogynistic, and utterly unbearable. You needed to escape, to get away from his toxicity. So, you'd told him you were going to the bathroom, but in reality, you'd sought refuge through the back door with the help of a compassionate staff member.

Now, your heart is heavy, and all you want is to be anywhere but here. You fumble with your phone, shaky fingers dialing Damian's number, your lifeline in moments like these. The phone rings, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow until his voice finally answers.

"Hey," you choke out, your voice trembling as tears continue to fall. "I... I need you to pick me up, please. Can you come?"

There's a moment of silence before Damian's voice comes through, reassuring and concerned. "Of course, I'm on my way. Are you okay?"

You sniffle, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. "Not really. Just... please hurry."

You don't have to wait long. In what feels like a whirlwind of minutes, you see Damian's truck pulling up to the curb, and both he and Dominik jump out. The sight of them brings a mixture of relief and comfort, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning soul.

"Hey, are you alright?" Damian's voice is laced with worry, his dark eyes searching yours.

Dominik's gaze is equally concerned as he steps closer, his presence offering a sense of security.

You shake your head, unable to find the words just yet. Damian's arms envelop you in a warm hug, and Dominik joins in, their comforting embrace feeling like a shield against the world's cruelties.

"We've got you," Dominik murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm.

As they pull away, Damian's expression is etched with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitate, your emotions threatening to spill over. The drive back to Damian's place is quiet, the only sounds being your quiet sobs and the hum of the engine. When you finally arrive, they guide you inside, taking gentle care as if you were made of glass.

Sitting on the couch, your emotions finally break free, and the story pours out. You recount the evening, the date gone horribly wrong, and how his behavior had triggered painful memories from your past. The two of them listen intently, their anger simmering beneath the surface.

"He had no right to treat you that way," Damian says, his voice firm. "You deserve better."

Dominik's expression is one of understanding, his eyes soft. "We're here for you, no matter what."

Their words wrap around you, a warm blanket of comfort. It's not just sympathy, but empathy – the kind that only comes from those who truly care. In their presence, you feel validated, loved, and protected.

As the night stretches on, their support remains unwavering. They make sure you know that your worth is immeasurable, that you're deserving of respect and kindness. In their arms, you find solace, and the darkness of the evening begins to fade into the background. With Damian and Dominik by your side, you're reminded that you're never alone – even in the face of life's toughest moments.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian x reader #dominik mysterio x reader #dirty dom #dominik mysterio #damian priest x reader x dominik mysterio

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scorbleeo · 4 months

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TV Series Discussion: Fellow Travelers

Source: Google Images

Follows the lives and volatile romance of two different men, through purges, wars, protests, and plagues, overcoming obstacles in the world.

Source: IMDb (2023)

My Heart Aches

And it will probably ache forever, whenever I think back to this TV show. It aches even more when I think that despite Fellow Travelers being fiction, many of the events shown weren't fiction.

The storytelling through the decades in the second half of the 20th century was so well done. It's time jump at its best. However, it's really how the actors portrayed their characters that made this show as amazing as it is.

For Lucy, I simply cannot hate her. Whether it be the past or in current times, do you know how hard is it to find a female like Lucy? She gave her everything for a love that will never be reciprocated and yet she's not full of malice. Sure, she burnt that letter. Sure, she was not loyal to her marriage but can she be blamed? The fact that she finally left Hawk at the end for herself was the time I was most proud of her. And I was already proud of her when she was never actually homophobic, and when she visited Tim at the hospital. Yes, she asked an ignorant question during that visit but during that time and what's being said about AIDs, I don't blame her for her ignorance. At least this woman was just ignorant and not evil or even mean.

For Marcus and Frankie, I just feel so much for them and have rooted for them since the beginning. Honestly, nobody in Fellow Travelers is more brave than Frankie. Marcus goes on and off throughout the show but he really popped off at the end. I just hate that this TV show had to give Jerome AIDs too? My already breaking heart cracked loudly watching Marcus's reaction when Jerome told him he was positive.

For my baby Skippy, he is one of the main reasons my heart will always ache for this show. How much does a good man have to suffer?

And for Hawk, it's weird because even when he was being toxic or an asshole, I never hated him. Hawkins Fuller is literally "he fears more than he loves". Back in the first episode, I've said that Hawk loves Tim, he loved Tim the second his eyes fell on his Skippy and he just fell deeper in love every other time they were together. Unfortunately, this man was afraid way more than he loves. Which I completely understand because of what the hell the States was doing back then, and that is why I never hated Hawk. I've seen how people hated that Hawk never told Tim "I love you" but I beg to differ. For someone who feared more than he loved, that last kiss they shared, much less in public – that specific time period, that event? Hawk did not need to say those words to Tim, this frightened man showed Tim he loves him, and Tim knows that which was why he sent Hawk home knowing damn well if Tim asked him to stay through his last days, Hawk would.

Fellow Travelers is such a hauntingly beautiful but heartbreaking love story. I just keep thinking that if these two men were born later in their time, they would have such a wondrous relationship without the shenanigans and no wasted time.

Rating: ★★★★★

#tv show review #fellow travelers #hawkins fuller #tim laughlin #marcus hooks #frankie hines #lucy smith #matt bomer #jonathan bailey #jelani alladin #noah j. ricketts #allison williams #book to tv adaptation

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gravedigginbbydoll · 10 months

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His Best Girl

Eddie Munson x Latina! OC

AN: Hi. So this lil blurb is very personal to me and my own experiences (and a few of those of loved ones) as the daughter of a latina immigrant. This is heavily based on Your Best American Girl by Mitski. Also I'm sorry for making Steve an ass at the beginning, I just think pre-upside down and Nancy, he was a bit misguided. And to all my immigrant daughters out there: please know that you are not out of place or just pieces and not a whole. You are a human with multiple facets and pieces and parts to make up something amazing. Anyways, like and reblog if you enjoy as per usual. Love y'all ❤️

CW: Xenophobia, stereotypes, internalized xenophobia and anti-latinidad, pressure of fitting in, strenuous relationship with mother, toxic motherly relationship at times, anxiety, bullying. Fear of not being accepted, etc. Mentions of food. Slightly suggestive thoughts.

I stuck out like a sore thumb in Hawkins. It didn't matter that we had lived there for longer than Billy Hargrove, we got more sneers than he ever did. Teased for lunches homemade by my mother, now rotting in a garbage can behind school. Teased for the poncho I wore in grade school, chubby cheeks wet with tears as I sobbed over the laughter. Teased for my mother’s pronunciation of words like Illinois, too many syllables crowded into her mouth for the english language.

It didn’t matter how far I distanced myself. I stopped speaking my mother’s native tongue, pushing down the hurt I saw in her eyes that now her own daughter was pitted against her. I stayed silent at my father’s snide comments about her heritage and pretended to be busy when her family called. I tried to get involved in cheerleading and dance, trying to show that I too could be part of the American Dream. Yet still, like a birthmark unable to be scrubbed away, Hawkins remembered me as a stranger.

It seemed like the effort finally paid off when Steve Harrington got interested in me. I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn't Molly Ringwall. He flirted with me after basketball practice, messing with my scrunchy, stealing my pom poms. I felt my heart soar. I’d finally made it. I’d finally been made a resident in my own community. When he finally asked me out, I felt my chest burst with pride, my sense of belonging almost fulfilled. Yes, my home was tense and sad. But now I could exist outside our little bubble without fear of being ostracized.

Then came the roadblocks.

Steve liked my hair straight, down and perfected with hairspray. Liked me clean shaven and bare. Wanted me to do makeup like Carol, simple. Wanted me dressed in pinks and perfect baby blues, the style as All-American and feminine as possible. Wanted me to stop carrying around the small rosary and evil eye bracelet I’d hidden from the rest of the world. I obliged, sugary smiles and gut wrenching nerves, just wanting to stay enough, be enough.

Then it went deeper. Steve wanted to hear me speak Spanish in private, words hushed and filthy, pushing limits I knew I’d be thinking of later in confession. But in public, he only wanted English, urged me to take French at school instead. He never asked to meet my mother, who had showered me in affection despite my cold shoulder. Who only spoke in proud words over me on the phone whether it be about my latest test, my excelling in dance classes, or just my part on the cheer team. And as we went further, he’d scrutinize little things, like the way I looked, the little superstitions I picked up from my mother, the small bits and pieces of her folded into me.

It all bubbled over the night I met his family. He warned me that they were tough but his mother was sweet. I sat, makeup perfect, smile shining, and careful to seem like the picture perfect girl they’d approve of. I nibbled at the meal his mother prepared, my heart longing for the familiar comfort of my mamá’s cooking wafting in the kitchen, the laughter in the kitchen as she made milanesa or empanadas. Steve’s mother’s cooking felt cold, lifeless. The casserole was lightly salted, and the energy at the table stale and somehow tense all at once.

“So, what’s your mother do? Stay at home?,” Steve’s father asked nonchalantly.

I felt my stomach sink. Wealthy mothers in Hawkins didn’t work. They stayed home while their husbands hopped around their business meetings and towns nearby. My smile faltered, but I decided to be honest. After all, they’d know sooner or later.

“No, sir. She works at an Italian restaurant downtown.”

“Well, I suppose Italian isn’t all that different from speaking Spanish,” He offered, shrugging.

My stomach sank to the floor, my heart squeezed. Something about his inflection, something about his writing off my mother speaking English, stirred something in me.

Steve stayed silent, his eyes begging me to let it go.

“My mamá speaks English, sir. As well as Spanish,” My voice shook softly, my hands clenched under the table.

“Ah, okay. Wasn’t sure. Seems a lot of Hispanics nowadays can’t just try to learn the language when they come into our country, for god's sake. But I should have known. You’re such a…well-adjusted girl.”

I felt the small thread holding together my façade crack. I breathed in, trying to stop myself from screaming. How could such wealthy and lucky people be so small minded? I gritted my teeth.

“English is surprisingly a hard language. My mother still struggles with it even after living here longer than she did in her home country.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not struggling. Just don’t understand why they can’t come here and assimilate. I mean, when Steve told us he was dating an ethnic girl, I questioned-”

Steve paled at the mention of this, turning to me and trying to explain himself through his eyes but staying silent.

I held up a hand, trying to keep my composure, my words cold and my anger boiling. “We try. Plenty. We try to squeeze into your boxes and norms and bend to your will and it’s never good enough. I still get notes taped to my back that say ‘river crossing’ or slurs that aren’t even correct for my heritage. I still get called ‘gorilla arms’ despite waxing and shaving daily since 6th grade. I get spit on daily and if I even look at some of the people in this town, I worry one day that I’ll be dead in a ditch. And I’m one of the lucky ones. My father is American, and I am fairly pale. I was born two towns over, for christ’s sake. I am just as American as you. My mother and any latino who steps foot in this country deserves to be here as much as you, if not more.”

I felt my hands shake and my cheeks wet as I wiped at them, the mascara I had been wearing smearing a streaky black as I stood, brushing my hands off on my dress, my heart feeling freed, my chest tempted to break open to allow me to let go more.

“Now if you excuse me, I must go home.”

I turned and walked out, leaving behind the big house full of dreams of all-star American athletes and nuclear households, tired mothers and fathers obsessed with infidelity. Part of my heart hoped Steve would run after me, apologize, kiss my cheeks and promise to love all the pieces and intricacies of me, promise to stand up next time.

But he never did.

Steve never called back, stopped speaking to me after practice, stopped trying to squeeze himself into my life. Maybe it was me embracing the soft curls of my hair and not shaving day in and out. Maybe it was me wearing what I wanted and quitting cheer to join the newspaper, and finding more people who accepted me for myself.

I won’t deny that it stung how he found Nancy Wheeler, perfectly American girl without any question. Straight A’s, beautiful, sweet, well-off family. I was happy for him. But I couldn’t deny that my chest stung with the idea that no matter what I did, I’d never be her.

My mother and I started mending our relationship, and while it always had that complicated knot of trauma and things she wouldn’t discuss, it was better than the frayed edges I’d left. She still pushed me hard, she still was stubborn and said things that would sting for a lifetime. I still cried alone when we fought, guilt over her giving up a life and home to make one mine, and yet I still got upset when she would refuse to budge and claim I'd ‘regret saying these things when (she) was dead and gone.’

But I felt less like a broken piece of glass trying to fit into a puzzle.

I met Eddie while eating lunch outside, still sensitive to classmates upturned noses and sniggering laughs behind their hands. I was at the bleachers, enjoying the fresh air and the empanadas I had reheated secretly in the front office. My mom had made the monthly trek to the latin supermarket to get ingredients and stock up on comforts. I was relishing in the flaky dough and savory inside when a voice startled me.

“What is that smell?”

I felt shame and embarrassment sink into my bones, knowing some of the kids at Hawkins hated the smell of the food I brought from home, claiming it was ‘too weird’. I turned to look at the voice, feeling my voice caught in my throat at the sight.

Eddie Munson.

I recognized the outgoing and loud metalhead anywhere. He was what I tried to distance myself from for so many years, trying to squeeze into Hawkins small sect of acceptable behavior and praised individuals. He always scared me, his clear and blatant middle finger to the idea of blending in, his behavior and interests always villainized in this town. But I also respected him immensely and was almost envious that he could do that, not consumed by thoughts of others mistreating him.

And yet now here he was, about to join the flock of Hawkins xenophobes, it seemed.

He scrambled to sit down next to me, his lean legs climbing over the seats easily as he sat by me. He had a pack of cigarettes in hand along with what seemed to be Twinkie. He smiled down on me, his wide grin causing my cheeks to heat quickly. Eddie was more attractive than the town of Hawkins gave him credit for, his smile dazzling and his eyes a warm brown. He white Reeboks rested against the bleachers in front of us as he leaned back on his hands, smiling over at me. His bangs came over his eyes a little with the wind, causing him to squint.

“I’ll trade you one of whatever that delicious thing is for my Twinkie. I forgot to pack a lunch,” he joked, dimples popping out.

I felt my hands clam up as I fidgeted nervously.

“I mean, sure, but are you sure you’ll like-”

“Princess, trust me. I love food. And that little doughy pocket you are currently munching on smells heavenly…Please?”

I nodded, feeling my stomach twist with nerves as I handed him the food, smiling at him sheepishly. He took it with eager hands, his own nimble fingers brushing mine and swiftly handing me the slightly squashed Twinkie.

“Sorry, it got a little beat up.”

I shook my head, shrugging. I had pocketed the twinkie, instead focused on his face while he took an eager bite into the dough, his moan coming soon after, his eyes rolling back into his head, his head thrown back.

I felt my skin heat up to blazing temperatures, my thighs squirming.

Who knew Eddie Munson’s moans sounded so… sinful?

He turned to me after chewing and swallowing, his eyes sparkling with interest as he sat up and faced me, scooting closer to me.

“You’ve got to tell me what that was. That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I need like fifty. Seriously. I’ll give you a free stash if you just bring me one like everyday.”

I laughed, my cheeks still heated and my heart squeezed at the excitement.

He liked it. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t spit it out.

“It’s an empanada. My mom makes them.”

“Em-pan-ahd-a,” He sounded out, stumbling over his words a bit and then grinning at me, his dimples popping up.

“Seriously though, I’ll pay you to get more of these.”

Eddie and I formed a bond tighter than anyone I’d ever known. After that meeting, we’d exchanged names and he offered to bring me one sweet each day in exchange for half of my mother’s cooking.

I was terrified at first, scared he’d turn away a dish or gag at the things she made. But as it turned out, that fear was short-lived.

Eddie Munson scarfed down empanadas, milanesa, cassava, rice, and soup. He acted as if each meal was worthy of a restaurant, praising my mother's cooking over and over again. I watched with swelling pride as he asked about the dishes and ingredients, how to cook them, and what my favorites were. He took extra care to express his love for the dishes I had assisted with the night before, his sweet words imprinted on my heart like ink.

We grew from that to more and more hanging out, me being an honorary member of Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin’s number 1 fan. I learned Eddie never got to learn how to ride a bike but could fix cars up pretty well due to working at an auto shop. I learned how Eddie sometimes would visit his dad at the jail but always came out of it bitter. I knew Eddie liked his eggs over medium, not scrambled (‘it looks like brains’), and how he had a tiny chip in his tooth from eating shit at a little league game when he was about 11 (‘I was never athletic, okay?’). And with each small piece of Eddie I got to know more and more, I felt a stronger tug at my heart. A pull to know all the parts of him, to familiarize myself with the calluses on his fingers and the dip in his collarbone. I wanted to consume all the pieces of him and feel our bones lock together.

One night, I had invited him over to help my mamá and I cook dinner, her over the top doting and affection causing us both to have heated cheeks, his a bright red. She was showing him how to make milanesa, her fingers already coated in eggy breadcrumbs. He listened intently, still joking around and making her laugh. She doted on him despite my fear, affectionately reprimanding him for not wearing socks on the cold floor and having his hair a mess. We laughed and sang along to old traditional love songs wafting in from the record spinning in the living room, Eddie taking my hand and swaying with me in the kitchen. My mother looked over at me with warm eyes, her smile soft and sad.

I never felt freer than that moment, all the small pieces that made me me visible to Eddie. He looked at me with warm and caring eyes, his smile soft but still bringing out his dimples. He liked me. He liked who I was. He didn’t mind that my mother had an accent or that she was overbearing sometimes, or that she burned palo santo to repel bad spirits and insects alike. He didn’t let Jason stick xenophobic notes to my back without a fight, and never made me feel like I needed to push down my heritage.

After dinner, I helped my mother wash the dishes while she urged Eddie to talk with my Dad and tour our home. I stayed in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones in Spanish with her, feeling frustration bubble up at her listing of all of Eddie’s flaws.

He’s too rebellious.

Ya se, mamá. Pero-

He has too many tattoos.

Sí, pero-

His hair is too long.

Mamá-

I had just about accepted defeat when she stayed silent for a beat before turning over to me.

“But does he make you happy, mijita?

I felt my heart skip a bit and a glimmer of hope shine through as I nodded my head and her expression softened. She turned back to her plate that she was scrubbing, looking into the suds rather than me.

“Good.”

We sat out on my porch hours after that dinner, our pinkies brushing as we sipped on water, Eddie smoking a cigarette but careful to not let the smoke come my direction. We had slipped into a comfortable silence that was familiar to us. Eddie dropped the cigarette, stomping out the smoke before turning to me and smiling.

“This was nice. I want more of this. More of us. What do you say, princesa? Be my girl?”

I felt my heart swell as my cheeks burned from my grin, my eyes watering over as I nodded enthusiastically. He pulled my hand closer to him with our connecting pinkies, interlacing the fingers and smiling as I answered.

“Yes. Always.”

I was on a date with Eddie when I finally saw Steve again. I mean, I had seen him in the hallways in passing, his arm usually wrapped around Nancy. However, I’d heard a rumor that the two had broken up. Steve wasn’t as popular as before and seemed to stop hanging around his group of usual assholes that included Carol and Tommy. But I had never expected to see him at the local mall working at Scoops Ahoy, serving me and Eddie.

Eddie had a protective arm wrapped around me, his expression guarded as he ordered some ice cream for the both of us. Eddie actively hated the mall, but this was the only place in town that really served ice cream and the two of us combined had a dangerous sweet tooth. He also was aware of me and Steve’s past, and our sour ending. He had soothed and comforted me when I felt afraid he would react the same way to my home and family.

While Steve rang us up, his expression was pained, which would have been laughable in his uniform if I wasn’t still stung by his behavior. He looked up at me, his eyes sincere as he sighed, his expression guilty.

“Look…I’m sorry I was such an ass while we were dating. I shouldn’t have let anyone talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m really sorry.”

Eddie’s arm wrapped tighter around me, ready to defend me if needed, his gaze on my face.

But strangely, I felt a sense of closure. A sense of forgiveness. I didn’t need approval from Steve or Hawkins or even Eddie. I could be all the little pieces of myself and my mother, all the parts of Midwest America and Latin America by myself. I deserved to be whole.

“Thank you. I deserve to be myself and feel proud of where I come from. I appreciate that you know that now.”

Eddie smiled softly down at me, kissing my forehead as his expression was filled with pride. He paid and tugged me away from the counter, his smile soft as he handed me my ice cream and held my hand with his free one, the other clutching his own.

“Sweet treat for my favorite girl.”

I smiled down at the cone, the phrase not lost on me. Maybe I wasn’t the All-American Girl. But I was Eddie’s girl. And that was more than enough.

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cialovesklopp · 10 months

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𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 | k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where a talented singer climbs back to the top of the music industry while also managing her newly couple life that is going very strong

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.1k 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — hrs & hrs [muni long]

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the revenge era can officially begin and amara can be sure to count on kylian. i apologize for the delay, i had a very busy week and words weren’t wording. also thank you to my lovely angel @lorarri for giving me all this inspiriation and also thank you to @aechii

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani thank u, next officially out — very happy that i got to work with this gorgeous queen on my first song after the hiatus @arianagrande we did good 💋

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arianagrande we were fab 💋

liyah.clark that song is so GENUIS, on repeat the entire day, you two slayeddd

honeymoon_avenue why did this song make me rethink my sexuality

amara.e.imani1 it certainly proved that amara imani and ariana grande are two gorgeous women

stanamara_imani bi-panic immediately

graceywood all those late phone calles def paid off, the song is amazing, already breaking records

username MY NEW FAVORITE SONG

username it def gave Evan a taste of his own medicine

username FR, Amara and Ariana really roasted him

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

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amara.imani “look at you, boy i invented you” — in my head OUT NOW, the second of many coming

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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

she was truly back. days, weeks, months had gone into this, had prepared her for this day and yet it felt even more special than she had ever anticipated. she had put everything into it, her time, her energy, her motivation— amara doesn’t think she would have survived if it had failed. the photo dump she had posted had announced her return but it were the publifications of thank u, next and in my head that had truly officialised her return to the music industry, — her comeback to the top.

especially thank u, next was one of her faves. the passive agressive but easy message towards her ex had truly given her the closure she needed before sue could continue. the finishing to their story that had taken so many ups and downs. their relationship had been a short high, a period of her life but one, that was over now — the message she tried to transfer through the song. she was genuinely thankful for evan, for showing her what love should NOT be like and for paving the way for kylian. who knows how long she would have stayed in that toxic environment if he hadn’t cheated on her?

was it smart to publicly shame evan and give misogynistic music critics the confirmation that she was just a copy of the likes of taylor swift and beyoncé? maybe not. but was she still proud she had done it? hell yeah.

deep down, she knew that the reason she had written the song was to shut up every newsletter and gossip magazine that claimed she was still crying over him, that their relationship was the only thing she was worth. she had matured a lot over the time, had let her feelings out and written them down before she had gotten the idea. why should she act like the mature woman who had to find five ways to euphemism the way he treated her when it should be him, who could just act mature the moment she would release the song? accept the fact that he hadn’t been the nicest to her and claim the criticism?

it were officially two days that had passed since she had released “thank u, next” and to be honest, amara was still buzzing. people could try to hide it but the song was genuis. everything that had been poured into it was a success. and she could never be thankful enough to ariana grande for accepting to be featured on the song. she remembered grace’s struggle to find a co-singer for her song, knowing that amara’s reputation had not been the best. and yet, she had one afternoon received ariana’s call, asking if she still needed a person and that she would be happy to feature on it. even though she had been shocked at the sudden call, a part of her suspected that kylian somehow had wriggled his way in. especially because the next day, she had gotten a long call from grace, telling her to keep kylian and all of sudden, she found kylian’s name in ariana’s followern (but she would never admit that she was stalking him sometimes).

in my head though was a complete different story. in all her career she had never doubted a song like this, never gotten anxious over it. perhaps, all the bad memories that were connected with every verse she wrote, brought it all back up again. or she still feared the failure she would maybe receive because everyone still held her for a bitch after evan’s interview. either way, the process of “in my head” was not one she would like to recreate.

but kylian had been there for her. every line that had brought her down, he had been there (whether live or onscreen) to cheer her up, to remind her that those times were over and she would never have to endure things like that again. maybe, he couldn’t promise her that she would never experience pain again but he had made the promise to himself that she would never ever find herself in the position, capable of writing a song like in my head. he had listened to her when she complained why it felt so hard for her to write, why she couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened. amara’s goal had been for in my head to be last song she would ever write about Evan again. the final page of the evan chapter before she would finally (and specifically for the press) move on from him.

she’d probably never admit it but all the shade thrown at evan felt good. two different people and yet the same intentions. he went on tv to throw her under the bus, she wrote songs about him, giving people the own right to analyse how much of an asshole he actually was. especially because there so many different interpretations of it but all had one common point — evan henderson was an asshole.

the good thing though was that, now that she finished with evan, she could finally focus on kylian. show him truly how much she loved him. he was her only thought now.

even when she celebrated her success, her thoughts were still on kylian. the air was filled with excitement as they celebrated the immense success of amara’s latest songs. both had claimed the charts rapidly, breaking records by being listened to over a billion times already. it brought a smile to her face, illuminating and radiant at the fact that she found her passion for music again, the sparkle that had been lit again.

it wasn’t exactly the tidiest space, with all the note sheets and song papers thrown around but they still found some space to put a bottle of wine to celebrate. she served herself another glass, still feeling the euphoria of her success and what better way to celebrate it, than with alcohol?

“so now you’re drinking without me?” someone whispered in her ear, making amara jump up out of shock as she hadn’t even seen anyone enter the place, except herself, grace and hudson. she hadn’t even gotten time to think about who it was when her eyes were suddenly covered by a pair of big hands but she recognized immediately who it was. only one person had that smell. “guess who it is?”

“let me guess, neymar?”

he chuckled mischievously, his breath warm against her ear. “essaie encore.” — try again

she pretended to think for a moment, biting her lip to add to her expression. “oh my god, it’s erling haaland. i feel so honored.”

the light nudge he gave her, made a laugh escape from her lips as she continued to play with kylian’s nerves. “last try,” the french striker warned.

“fine, fine, i know it’s you ky,” she replied, removing his hands from her eyes and turning around as she looked into his eyes.

he grinned at her, clutching his chest dramatically. “nice to know you didn’t forget me,” he replied, grinning widely at her. he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “congratulations for the two songs. i’ve been playing them on repeat.”

“merci beaucoup,” she exclaimed, deepening their hug as she hid in his neck. “i can’t believe you’re here.” she mumbled under her breath, inhaling the so-familiar scent of his.

“i was invited as special guest,” he pointed at grace, who sent a sly look towards the couple before turning away again and continuing her conversation with hudson. “apparently i lift certain people’s motivation.”

she glanced at grace who sent her a smirk in return. how she had managed to get kylian’s number and even get him here was beyond her imagination but she was glad to have him here. to introduce him to her world.

“if you tell anyone i agreed to this, i’ll deny it.” she threatened jokingly, grinning at him.

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry, your reputation’s save with me.”

“you know, this is as much my celebration party as it’s yours. i don’t know how you did it but thank u, next wouldn’t have existed without you.” she thanked him, wanting to pass him a glass of wine but remembering at the same time that he couldn’t drink mid-season. “je te remercie tellement pour ça. pour sauver ma carrière. i owe you, whatever you want.” — i am so thankful to you for this, for saving my career

their hands sneakily intertwined, making sure to not be seen by grace or hudson. they didn’t want for the others to know about them so soon, preferring to enjoy their honeymoon phase for bit longer. “well, there’s something i wanted to ask you.”

“i’m all ear,” the singer retorted, looking at him expectantly.

he cleared his throat, letting go of amara’s hand to draw circles on it with his thumb while leaning closer. “you think you’re ready to make your first appearance as my nr. 1 die-hard fan with your presence at my game on saturday?” he asked her, his voice soft and tender with a sarcastic undertone. “parce que j’aimerais bien que tu sois là samedi.” — because i would love it if you were there saturday.

he was expecting a rejection, already having prepared for it. but he hadn’t really measured the way her comeback would change her. amara was done with hiding from the public and bad press. she had long enough play their game, where they could silence her with one bad article. and she was excited to see kylian play live.

“i’ll be there don’t worry,” she replied nonchalantly, accepting his request. “but you’ll have to score. i’m not leaving my couch for just anybody.”

he arched an eyebrow, skeptic expression on his face visible. “so now i’m just anybody?” he asked her incredulously. “wow, i see how it is.”

she rolled her eyes at his antics but wasn’t able to hide the way she enjoyed his dramatic act. “kylian!” she exclaimed, lightly nudging him.

“ça va, j’ai compris,” he held his hand up in surrender. “donc, combien des buts veux-tu, ma belle?” — okay, i understood. so, how many goals do you want, beautiful?

“two,” she stated firmly after thinking for some time. “i want a double.”

he laughed. “two goals it is.” he repeated, brushing some, hair out of her face. truthfully there wasn’t any hair in her face but he loved the feeling of touching her. there was a sense of longing for her, to be near her and feel her close to him. to touch her every time. “and what will i get if i do?”

she shrugged, her face implying everything. “how many kisses do you want?”

he pretended to think for a moment, even putting a hand on his chin before replying, “for a lifetime.”

“a lifetime?”

he nodded. “a lifetime.” he repeated proudly, “nous deux c’est pour l’éternité.” — we two are forever

“so you thought this far already?”

“all i know is that i’ll never let you go. and if you do, then i must have done something stupid.”

a new sense of comfort spread through her body listening to him. butterflies were an understatement for what she was feeling in her stomach. the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little world as they stared into each other’s eyes with their hearts beating in unison.

their kind of love, so innocent and untypical — it was based on more than just love. because sometimes even love was not enough. what actually strengthened their bond was the blind trust they held for each other, she had let herself fall from the clip she was grasping on with her entire strength and he had caught her. made sure she landed safely before taking her own way again. and he had come to terms with the possibility of maybe not playing an as big role in her life as she was playing in his. (luckily that had turned out different) — he was somehow willing to do everything for her.

but just as they see about to lose themselves completely in their souls, grace interrupted them, nudging the couple slightly. “as cute as this is between you, we still need to record some songs,” she said, directing the last part of her sentence to amara before pointing at kylian. “and you, i didn’t bring you here to distract my workers from working.”

“worker? you’re my manager.” amara retorted amusingly, grin quickly disappearing when grace sent her a cold glance. “i’m coming.”

“can i listen to it?” kylian asked, throwing his question in the middle of their conversation.

she shook her head, the mischievous twinkle practically sparking. “i’ll let you hear it soon. it’s a surprise.” she replied, assuring him as her voice brimmed with sincerity.

he nodded, though he couldn’t completely hide his disappointment. they exchanged a quick, longing glance before reluctantly parting, painfully aware that their obligations called them back to reality. “i’ll wait for you here,” he told her softly, instantly summoning a smile on her lips. that smile intensified when he took amara’s face in his hands (a gesture she had gotten used to) and planted a soft yet passionate peck on her lips — right in front of an unsuspecting grace.

any sense of seriousness and productivity left her body as she watched her best friend kiss the french striker, jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. but she was doing a great job at hiding it and acting as if whatever just happened in front of her was normal.

when everyone had gone back to work, grace seized her chance during a small lunchtime break. hudson had engaged into a very lively conversation with the french striker, not being able to contain his football-love anymore, bombarding kylian with question. this gave grace the possibility to drag amara away and do her own questioning relating to what had just happened between her and her beau.

without any forewarning, grace dragged amara to the back of the studio, her mind racing as she tried to piece the puzzle of the revelation in front of her together.

“what the hell did i just see?” she exclaimed excitedly. “a peck — a real relationship peck! when did this happen?”

her face was covered with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “we’re dating now. we moved forward and things happened and now we’re dating.”

“that’s all you’ve got to say? we had thousands of phone calls and not even once did you mention this.” grace retorted loudly, staring incredulous at her best friend.

“honestly, it's a relatively new relationship, and i didn't want to make a big deal out of it. enjoy the small bliss.”

“wait till liyah hears that.” she furiously took out her phone, dialing liyah’s number and calling the latter by facetime. amara groaned, already seeing the kind of embarrassment she would get from liyah, especially because from the trio, she was the most livid when it came to exciting news.

to amara’s small dismay, liyah instantly took the call. “gracey, surprised you’re calling.” she greeted the pr-manager, loud noises in the back indicating that liyah must have been at the grand prix that was taking place on sunday.

grace grinned as they saw liyah all dressed in red-attire, probably to support her boyfriend. “liyah! thank god you took the call! i have news!”

“spill the tea!” liyah replied excitedly, matching grace’s enthusiasm.

“amara and kylian are dating. like fully dating! she’s off the market.”

liyah’s eyes widened at the new revelation, immediately turning to amara, who hid her face behind her hands. “what do you mean, they’re dating? you and kylian made a step forward? that final step we were all waiting for?”

before amara could reply, grace had already cut in. “and she probably wouldn’t have told us if i hadn’t invited kylian for today. this little bitch,” she pointed at amara, “would have probably waited a week before telling us that she and kylian even talked about making the next step.”

“how could you amara? i spent five days in paris with you and not even once did you mention that something happened!” liyah scolded her, voice getting louder to overcome the noises from the garage. “now spill everything. and i mean everything. every little detail.”

slightly panicking, she sighed. “well, he was over. he had planned on coming directly after they had come back to paris from their away match but i convinced him to come later because my mom was over—“

“mama imani was over?”

“she visited to check up on me and all that stuff,” amara explained, shrugging dismissively. “anyway, we talked about us and then there was a kiss…,” she confessed sheepishly, shyly turning away as her friends’ smiles got wider. “and then we decided to move forward. especially because the line of friendship was crossed a long time ago. oh… and the flowers he got me that day because they reminded him of him also were a factor that played into my decision.”

grace and amara covered their ears when liyah let out a loud scream, managing to even drown out the noises around her. “omg! how could you keep this from us? wait till i’m over again.”

“how long have you been in this new phase? i gotta know how long you’ve kept this up from us.” grace inquired, scrutinizing amara closely.

again, amara thanked the gods that she couldn’t blush. “well, it’s been two weeks now and like i said, we’re just looking where all this is leading to.”

“and now the real details?” liyah demanded, “did you only kiss or did more happen?” she asked, her tone becoming slightly suggestive.

“well, if you’re so curious. no we haven’t had sex yet. but we made out. a lot.” she admitted, hiding her face as liyah let out a scream.

“omg, this just made my day.”

grace smirked. “he’s also the reason why thank u, next exists. he’s the one who got in contact with ariana grande.”

another scream pierced through the phone, this time louder as liyah failed to contain her happiness.

“mon coeur, tu vas bien?” they suddenly heard in the background, and liyah turned to face the person calling after her. “i heard you screaming on the phone, even carlos was worried for a moment and andrea sent me to check on you.”

they watched liyah laugh, before peck the man’s lips, who they assumed was charles softly. “don’t worry babe. just excited because of some news i just got. wait, i just remembered that you haven’t even met the two most important persons in my life.” holding up a finger to indicate that he had to wait for a minute, she grabbed her phone, putting it in front of them, making charles appear on the screen. “meet my soul sisters, grace and amara, who is finally off the market.”

amara buried her face in her head out of embarrassment, listening to liyah introduce them. “she’s also the third person in our secret marriage with lewis.”

“third person?” she questioned, forgetting all embarrassment and arching an eyebrow. “now i’m offended.

charles laughed as they started to bicker around, his dimples reminding amara of kylian’s. “it’s very nice to meet you. she talks a lot about you. sometimes i feel like you’re dating her and not me.”

liyah rolled her eyes. “as if that isn’t the same with you and pierre.” she turned back to face her friends. “it’s literally me, my boyfriend and my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

“if this is because pierre tagged along on our date once, i already apologized.” he groaned, turning his attention back to amara. “i’m a big fan of your music. especially your new song, ‘thank u, next’. a fave of mine.”

“thank you so much. i am also a big fan of your driving, especially your victory in austria. but i still prefer lewis.” she added jokingly.

he grinned too, taking no offense to her remark. “fair enough. athough now i can brag to the others that i met you. especially lando and carlos. they’re die-hard fans.”

“greet them for me. make their day.” amara’s smile radiated through the phone, her happiness clear on her face. “also do we need to do the threatening-thing, where we tell him how we can kill him in fifty-seven different ways or should we just skip it and talk about what dating you includes? because i actually like you, charles.”

the couple laughed, charles sneakily putting an arm around his girlfriend to bring her closer. liyah waved dismissively. “girls, don’t worry. you forget i’m the baddest bitch out of the three of us so i’ll know what to do if he ever steps out of lane. and honestly, after having been in a relationship with james, it’s not really hard to top that.”

still, they mustered him, scrutinizing him very closely though they were satisfied by him. just the way he held and looked at liyah was enough to prove that he really loved her.

it also didn’t hurt, that charles was happily ready to accept all of the conditions, amara and grace laid down for him.

he accepted the monthly girls’ nights and didn’t mind the three am calls between the girls as they all were sometimes in different timezones.

neither was he against weekly date nights, no matter whether it was a night in or night out and accepted quickly the rule to never leave the other on read.

grace and amara would lie if they said that they didn’t have fun, analysing charles and having him agree to every of their rule. and the ferrari driver would probably never admit, but he liked seeing her have such good and caring friends. even though he had already forgotten half the things he had agreed to.

listening to them, liyah suddenly understood what her friends were doing. they were making sure she finally got to have the perfect relationship with charles that she had been wishing for during her time with james. the dating nights, no fighting because she spent too much time with her friends, no jealousy crises — they were making sure she was finally living the bliss, she was supposed to live during a relationship.

hanging up once they had finished with their conversation, the two women walked back to the men again, who had longly finished their conversation and had taken on to talk about god and the world as they waited for the girls to finish their conversation.

“so, did you talk to your biggest fan?” amara asked kylian, leaning her head on his shoulder as hudson arranged everything so they could continue recording.

“fallais me dire qu’il était fan de manchester city.” kylian let out, grumbling a bit. “i am still a bit sore over that defeat.” — you should have told me he was manchester city fan

she grinned. “he’s a football fan. i thought that would be all you cared about.”

he rolled his eyes, smile still not leaving his lips. he sat down on the black revolving chair, taking a few spins. this time it was amara’s turn to roll her eyes. especially because she wasn’t finished and this was her place.

“kylian, you’re sitting in my chair,” she complained, groaning slightly. “please sit somewhere else.”

“mais celui-ci est plus confortable,” he replied, spinning around again to purposely miss the pout amara gave him. — but this one is more comfortable

“please,” she begged him again. “there are hundred different chairs here, just take one of these.”

“how about you take one of those,” he retorted before continuing to spin around, annoying amara even more. she let out an ‘uf’, groaning as she turned to make her way to the other chairs. “or you could just sit down on my lap.” he proposed slyly, smirking at her just as she was about to grab a chair.

she arched an eyebrow, weighing her options in her head. crossing her arms, amara sighed as she rolled her eyes and gave in, sitting down on kylian’s lap.

her body grew a bit tense, uncomfortable as she had never sat in someone’s lap before and somehow he sensed it. his arms wrapped sneakily around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.

amara turned, smiling at him as kylian buried his head into her neck, his warm breath sending tingles down her body. his hands drew soft circles into her skin, tracing her body and every of her small defaults. the ones he had grown to love for her.

the new-found pair was so lost in each other, their flowing conversation distracting them from their surroundings thag they failed to notice the pr-manager take out her phone and capture this moment of love. smiling to herself, grace put her phone back after uploading the picture of the two to her story.

“after everything that happened,” hudson remarked, appearing next to grace as they watched the couple laugh together, only god knowing what they could talk about, “she definitely deserves this. someone who will love her the way he does.”

even though she had already been many times in his apartment, this time it felt different. perhaps because this time she wouldn’t be entering it as amara imani, the singer who had just had the worst year of her life. instead she was going into this apartment as amara, the girl dating him now. there wouldn’t be reasons anymore as to why she was there, she didn’t need any reasons anymore to be there.

the living room was tastefully decorated, lots of pictures showcasing his victories and achievements. she remembered her first time over, when she had been over here and the picture of their win from the lighe 1 had taken all her attention. the picture that had made her feel attired to kylian, with that certain twinkle in his eyes. while her eyes travelled around the room, he had quickly gone to his room, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes before spending the evening with her.

as she perused the shelves, her fingers wandering over the different book shelves, she noticed his music collection consisting of a long tower of cds piled up. needless to say, she was impresssed by his huge music collection and the way it varied from classical to contemporary. now it made sense why he had known so many old school and 80s hits . but what especially caught her eye was the dusty jazz cd, hidden away between a cd of whitney houston’s best hits and a 2000 party hits cd that instantly caught her interest. like they always said, curiosity killed the cat and amara couldn’t resist the temptation to play it.

confusion was clear on kylian’s face when he entered the living room, soft jazz tunes sounding out of the speakers. he arched an eyebrow as he joined her, placing himself next to her.

“do i even want to know why jazz is playing at the moment?” he questioned, amused that he was already so used to amara’s impulsive thoughts and ideas.

“nope,” she replied, shaking her head while a grin appeared on her lips. “but you need to dance with me. mayhe i’ll tell you then.” she replied mischievously, putting her hands around his neck.

he sighed but complied nonetheless and placed his hands on her hips before sliding them upwards for them to rest on her waist. “i have no idea how to dance to jazz,” he admitted, feelings heat in his cheeks even though there was no blush.

“me neither honestly.” she confessed, but shrugged happily. “but i don’t care. let’s just give it a try.”

the pair tried to keep with the slow rythm of the music but both realized quickly that jazz was not their music. they swayed and spun around, trying to dance the steps they had seen in music but the more they tried, the more awkward it became as they never managed to stay in the beat.

as kylian extended his arm and spun her around, amara tripped over his foot trying to match the rythm, resulting in both falling to the ground and landing softly on the carpet. one look was all they shared before they began to laugh. “we suck at this, don’t we?” kylian grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“yeah,” amara giggled, sitting up. “we should stop before someone mistakes us for actual dancers.”

the two let the jazz music play in the background, still fond of the memories with them failing to dance. while kylian got comfortable on the couch, taking over the whole sofa by extending his feet, amara preferred to stay on the fluffy carpet, songbook in her hands along with a pen.

“so… why were you so keen on dancing to jazz? i’m not judging but why, of all music genres did you take jazz?”

“i listened to the two of us and i just wanted to truly feel the song.” she replied sheepishly. “but as we all saw, it’s not really ours. i think we’re made to listen to it.”

he laughed at her but at the same time couldn’t stop himself from falling even more in love with her. she was truly the sunshine he had imagined her to be, the happy bubble she had once been. evan had only put a small black cloud on her head but once she had finally gained her self-trust and confidence back, the black cloud also disappeared and her sun shined through

“well, would you be so kind as to put on some serious music now?”

“only if i get to choose,” she commented, her face brightening up at kylian’s short nod. she quickly crawled to the music box, connecting her phone before she took back her place, getting truly comfortable now.

after their comical attempt at dancing jazz, they were ready to try out something new, listen to their own music. amara realized that music had become their own proper love language. while other couples communicated through affection, touch or soft words, their language was music. a language no one but them spoke.

she was used to express her feelings via verses and music but they had never spoken to someone. but with him, suddenly every song had an answer, a reply to it. they felt closer to each other when they listened to music and shared their feelings through soft melodies. a perfect duett.

as she scribbled through her notebook, going over the two songs that were next to record, kylian propped himself on one elbow to get a better view of her, watching her work. before her, he used to think songs were easy, they were just a few words that had to rhyme but after meeting her he had finally seen the process that went into it — was finally able to measure the worth of their work.

the first tunes of “style” filled the room, taylor swift’s song immediately lighting her face up with joy. she hadn’t even noticed that she had continued to sing along while working on her own lyrics — that much she loved the song. she wanted to ask kylian to sing along with her, dance with her to it but a certain sense of comfort prevented her from doing so. they were comfortable, at home in this position. she wouldn’t want to destroy it and kylian could always have another dance party with her.

the latter watched her intently, totally mesmerized and enchanted by her singing and her voice. each second that passed, he fell more in love with her, with the way she was just so natural. her talent and her passion were just two things of a long list that kylian loved about her. another thing was the way she was able to take another artist’s song and add her own note to it, her own touch. just the sight of her, fully in her element and singing to the song, fueled the fire in kylian’s heart that burned for her. somehow even the smallest moments like that deepened their connection.

amara would only know later how lucky she had gotten with kylian. someone who loved her because she was so passionate and talented and not just for her looks and reputation. he admired her creativity, her dedication and the way she always wanted to give her fans the 100% of herself that she deserved. she was the only one able to make him feel things he didn’t even know he could feel. he would follow her everywhere around if she asked him — kylian was completely enamored with her and probably loved her more than she did him.

even though she was deeply focused on her writing, she could still feel his gaze on her. the affection he gave her still made goosebumps spread through her entire body but here, she found comfort in it with him playing with some of her loose curls. it helped her concentrate. she turned, sending him a warm smile before turning around and setting her eyes on the paper in front of her again. it felt nice to have someone like kylian support her.

the song had longly ended and she had drowned out her surroundings to better focus on her work. it came easy to her with kylian’s support and encouragement along with the endearing smile he sent her. his gaze was comforting, calming.

“did i tell you about my coming collaboration with…” she broke the silence, trailing off. “i get to do a song with beyoncé.” she exclaimed happily.

“what?” his eyes widened in surprised before his perplexed expression turned into a happy one.

“yes. you know how she was my mentor and brought me into this business and now i actually get to do a song with her. that’s why i need this,” she pointed at the lyrics, “to be perfect. especially because she will be going over it and add her own lyrics for her part.”

“that’s incredible,” he gushed excitingly. “and believe me, your work is phenomenal. just what i got to see today was enough for me to know that you’re the most talented one.”

“well, i’m no beyoncé.” she mumbled shyly. “i just want this to work.”

“and it will mara. i’ll gladly call her if she doesn’t like it.” he advised, proudly smiling at her.

amara rolled her eyes. “get off your high horse. tu crois que tu es qui par rapport a beyoncé pour l’appeler?“ — who do you think you are in relation to beyoncé?

she laughed at his offended expression and continued to work on her song. she was immediately immersed in her songwriting again, adamant on making sure to give her idol her 100%. there was no way she’d disappoint the queen b.

while she wrote and erased words, kylian couldn’t help but be completely captivated by her focused expression. and to him in that moment, she was the most beautiful person ever. he had always thought that she was the most beautiful when she was laughing but he had seen another side of her — her passionate one. where she gave everything to make sure her words were perfect and made sense. and it made her even prettier than she already was.

he couldn’t even stop himself from taking out his phone and discreetly starting to take pictures of her without her noticing. he wasn’t very often a fan of taking pictures when the two were together but here, he knew he had to preserve this memory, this state of her.

after a few moments she started to sense something though. kylian was abnormally silent and calm for his usual state. she turned around, making kylian jump up at her sudden movement and a playful smirk build on her lips.

“you’re taking pictures of me again, aren’t you?” she asked, putting her book on the floor.

he chuckled, unable to hide his smile and pulled out her phone again to show her the endless pictures he had taken off her. before she realized, he started to take pictures of her again, making her groan.

“ky, please stop this.” she demanded, self-conscious taking over.

“never. i’ve never seen you so focused before, i had to capture this moment.” he just replied, laughing gently as he took another one.

“ky. at least delete it if i look bad in any of them.” she insisted, half-jokingly.

he shook his head, still amused by her slight discomfort. “ma belle, trust me, you look good in every lightening to me.” he replied sincerely, looking at her with so much love her heart filled with warmth

“why are you even taking them?” she questioned the french striker, putting down her book for final. she knew she wouldn’t get anymore work done today.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i needed a new wallpaper. and why not take the person i like most.”

“fine,” she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling but it was useless — a huge smile plastered on her face, reaching from one ear to the other as she let him take pictures of him for the rest of the night with small fights sometimes escalating as they thought over the phone. and still, she wouldn’t trade this evening for anything.

with an oversized shirt she had borrowed from kylian (which he knew he would never get back), amara found herself in the bathroom next to kylian as they brushed their teeth. she hadn’t really planned on staying over for the night but time had other plans, passing so quickly neither of the two had realized how late it had gotten. before they knew it, it was already too late for amara to go home (or more like, Kylian didn’t trust her to be alone at this hour in paris).

standing in front of the mirror, the two brushed their teeth, amused grins displayed on their face as they stared at each other through the glass. after spitting out the remainder of the toothpaste that stuck in her mouth, she washed her toothbrush and reached for her toiletries bag.

wanting to give her more place as he knew what she was about to do, the french international player placed his brush back into the small cup and took a few steps back to sit down on the border of the bathtub. he watched with amazement and an innocent kind of love and endearment as she gracefully washed her face before starting to apply various creams to it. with the soft bathroom light reflecting in his eyes, he smiled at her as his eyes glanced over her natural state. it felt like home.

amara glanced back at him through the mirror as she caught him staring at her, probably daydreaming with the way his eyes were locked on her. smiling, she turned to him, face creme still on her fingers. “do you want me to give you a skincare routine too? just asking with the way you’re staring at me. believe me, i’d be doing you a favor.”

he looked at her confusingly, chuckling as he shook his head. “don’t worry about me, i’m fine as i am.”

she walked towards him, squinting her eyes to scrutinize his skin. “your skin looks horrible,” she stated shockingly. “how come i’ve never noticed with how often we made out?”

kylian laughed at the way she seemed so upset, smirking as he responded, “guess that means im doing my job right.”

she rolled her eyes at her retort, exhaling loudly. “non, mais kylian sérieusement. i don’t want to kiss your face if it’s all scratchy and full of dead skin you probably didn’t really wash off.” — no but seriously kylian

he let out a small groan, realizing what that probably meant. “i take good care of my skin, don’t worry.” he replied but he hadn’t reckoned with amara’s persistence.

with a mischievous glint apparent in her eyes, she grabbed one of her moisturizing creams and moved slowly towards him. “i am so sorry but you left me no other choice.”

every step that she took towards him, he took one back, trying to get away from his as she neared him with an evil grin. “amara, really, it’s not necessary.” but she didn’t give up, ready to put some cream on his skin.

in the span of a second, he took off, trying to hide from her as she began to pursue him. the pair found themselves in a playful fight, both laughing as she tried to dab a bit of her moisturizing cream onto his cheeks.

he was successful in dodging every of her attempts but he hadn’t expected her to be so determined on it as she did not show any signs of abandonment or giving up.

“you’d make me so happy if you took good care of your skin.” she pouted, hoping to make him crack which worked. looking at her one last time, kylian finally gave in. but while amara thought it was because she finally wore him down, he had other reasons. and the biggest one was seeing her smile grow wider because she thought she had won. he’d do everything to see her smile.

“but don’t put on too much,” kylian instructed, “and just the cream. no serums or whatever you have in that bag.”

her face lit up with delight, nodding quickly as she made him sit down on the border of the bathtub again and gently applied the white cream to his cheeks. without even noticing, he closed his eyes as a sense of tenderness and softness washed over him. he’d never admit it but it felt good as she brushed her fingers softly over his face.

“and finished,” amara cheered, closing the cream, “now your skin is happy and smells amazing.” she leaned in, placing a soft peck on his cheek, her lips lingering for a little longer on his face.

he pulled her down next to him, his arm wrapping around her figure immediately. she laid her head down on his shoulder, playing loosely with the strings of his hoodie. “ready for bed now and some cuddles?”

“lead the way.” she replied quietly, intertwining their hands.

they exited the bathroom, heading directly for the bedroom to lay down. Kylian had been unsure whether amara wanted to sleep in the guest room or with him but his worries quickly vanished when they reached his bedroom and she laid down on the bed, hitting the free place next to her to signal for him to join her.

his cheeks were probably already hurting from all the smiling today and yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. laying next to her felt like a dream, the ones that felt so real that one often wondered whether it was really a dream. the soft scent of cherry and vanilla crawled up his nose as he buried his head in her neck, his arm pulling her closer to his chest.

it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep or at least enter the dazed state of sleep. nights that amara had spent, staring at the ceiling hoping to fall asleep seemed like a distant memory now that she had kylian. the sense of belonging he spread made it easy for her to fall asleep — because now she could let herself fall freely without worrying. except the butterflies in her stomach, she didn’t really feel anything that made her want to worry. and sleeping belonged to that.

“kylian, are you still awake,” she asked into the silence, hoping that kylian wasn’t asleep already, she nudged him lightly, happy when she felt him turn towards her. “tu te rappelles quand je t’avais promis une chanson?” — remember when i promised you a song?

“hm…,” he replied sleepily, “yes, that by the way i’m still waiting for.”

she stared up at him, waiting till his eyes were fully open and focused on her. taking a deep breath, she snuggled closer into his chest. “well, i wrote you an entire album.”

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

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amara.imani mon amour, je t’aime — the album, COMING SOON

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