#I was joking do not attack me I am just a little boy a little birthday boy do not attack the boy on his birthday

[moonlitcelestial]

Chapter 5

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x Poly OT8 Ateez

W/C 3,881

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾ 

Inspiration Pictures Pinterest Board

Previous Chapter (Chapter 4)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer. I will be attempting to keep it as gender neutral as possible but it will have she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, possible angst, fluff, and obliviousness. 

This list will be updated as the story goes on. 

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety/Panic Attack. Dark Jokes.

Thanks for reading <3 Moonie

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“Y/N?” You heard someone shaking you and repeating your name. Holy shit, you fell asleep. You shot up and looked around the room. Most of the boys were standing putting on their light jackets. Seonghwa was looking at you with something you couldn’t decipher. You turned to look at your team and they were watching the interaction with smirks. Everything clicked into place. They were watching you because you were surrounded by some of the people you idolized. They were watching you to see if you would embarrass yourself and you most certainly had.

Fuck. 

“I am so sorry Seonghwa, I didn’t even realize that I fell asleep or that I was even tired. It won’t happen again, I am so sorry” You rambled at a quick place. You scrambled up from the seat and bowed before you scurried away from everyone and out into the hall. You had remembered seeing a restroom not too far away so you practically ran toward it. You were getting too hot. Was it embarrassment? Could it be shame? You made it to the bathroom door, yanked the door open, and locked yourself in. You rolled up your sleeves, leaned against the sink, and put your head down. Your head started swimming with uncontrollable thoughts. Each one bleeding into the last. You could feel your breath coming in shaky pants, you couldn't get a deep breath. You could barely suck in enough air to keep you from feeling lightheaded. Your sight got blurry and you could feel yourself start to shake. The heat that was burning in your body felt like the sun was trying to escape from your skin. 

Did you cross a line? Did you just make him uncomfortable? You fell asleep on your first official day of being here at KQ. How could you be so stupid? Would he request that they cancel the contract? Could you have fucked things up on your first official day? You jumped at the sound of small knocks on the door. The thoughts ceased for only a moment. 

“Hey, Boo it's me, can you open the door?” There were only three people who called you that, Aurora, Forrest, or Willow. From the sound of it it was Willow. She was always the person of the friend group to calm any one of you down. She was a grounding presence. You shakily stepped over to the door unlocking it and let her in, Aurora followed shortly after her. Forrest was posted up on the side of the door like a guard dog. Once all three of you were in the bathroom and Aurora locked the door you threw yourself at Willow. She knew that when you were in a bad headspace you either needed to be left alone or you needed grounding. She was good about being able to tell which one it was, which came from the years of friendship. She wrapped her arms around you and let you breathe her in. You sighed and relaxed into her hold. “How could I be so stupid? How could I fall asleep on the first day? How could I fall asleep on someone who knows I bias him?”

She shushed you running her hand over the back of your braided hair. “There is no need to be ashamed. In fact I was fairly certain Wooyoung snoozed for a little bit against your leg. Had you been awake you would have noticed that San had his head against your shoulder as well and was snoozing. It was a whole cuddle pile and you were in the middle of it. Seonghwa was the only one who wasn't asleep. San woke up shortly before you did. Seonghwa was comfortable enough with you that he pulled you closer to make sure you were comfortable, and he had his head against yours for the majority of the time you were asleep. You have nothing to worry about. In fact, they are worried about you.” 

“Do you think she is okay?” 

“I am not sure, but I trust her team to know her and help her through whatever was going across her mind before she ran out.” 

“Did we come on too strong? 

“You did not act unlike you normally do, she knows how all of us are, she is an Atiny. She might just be embarrassed that she fell asleep. We can be a lot to handle, we just have to take it slow.”

“All I want to do is run after her and comfort her hyung.” 

“I know you do, I would like to as well but this isn’t something that I think would do her mental state much better.”

“She is a strong person, she is just hesitant around us because I think she is still reeling from all of this. It has only been a few days since they got the call from KQ.” 

“Let’s go down to the cafeteria like we planned with her team and they will meet us like they said. We can only do so much here, she may know us, but she doesn’t know us. She just needs time.”

“They were worried about me? Why would they be worried about me?” you questioned regaining some semblance of a breathing rhythm. Willow had successfully grounded you enough to help you regain some kind of consciousness around your body. 

“Because they care and are amazing people. At least two of them almost ran out the door after you, Forrest had to stop them so we could handle this. They care for you. While you were asleep we could tell so. They kept checking in on you while you slept and they were asking us so many questions about what we do and what you do. They even were asking to see some of your work. They care about you Y/N, it has only been a few days since everything has happened but they are so genuine about getting to know us.”  

You pulled away from Willow and she wiped under your eyes. You hadn’t even realized that a few tears spilled down your face. “You mean that? They aren’t mad?”

“No”, Aurora spoke up, “When they started looking at you questioningly we may have spilled that you generally always have trouble sleeping. Also that you don’t do that very often with people that aren’t us. That you generally hate new people and that you take forever to warm up to someone enough to even consider falling asleep anywhere near them. They were so over the moon that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in their presence.”

“You make me sound like a child,” you groaned with a light chuckle. That made the two of them smile wide. “Where would I be without you guys?” you asked.

“Probably playing out in traffic,” Aurora remarked with a grin. You slapped her on the shoulder. All three of you broke out into giggles. You could feel your heartbeat returning to normal. Thankfully they pulled you out before it got really bad, otherwise it would not have been as easy to get through to you. 

“Come on, I am getting hungry and Forrest is still waiting out there.” Willow said to you moving to unlock the door. Forrest turned to look at you and pulled you into a giant hug. Your arms slid around his waist as his hand cradled the back of your head. 

“You worried me there for a second Boo.” He murmured into your hair. 

“I’m sorry, they got me all sorted out, I’m as good as new.” You responded. 

“Let’s go eat, I am starving." he said and kept his arm around your shoulder. He maneuvered you toward the cafeteria and you smiled up at him. These were your people. This is where you are supposed to be, right here in the moment, not in your head. 

After the short walk to the cafeteria you noticed that you were starving as well. Leave it to nerves to make you not notice your bodily functions. You looked around and saw the boys. Seonghwa, Yuhno and San stood up as you approached with Forrest next to you. You shyly waved at them. You noticed that they left four seats open for you and the team. San was the one to move to your duo. He smiled at you and said “I am glad you are okay, you really worried us there for a minute.”

“I’m all good Sannie, I am sorry I worried all of you. Let’s sit and eat and maybe if we have enough time before dance practice I can bring you guys out to see my bike.” you replied in a quiet tone. 

“We would absolutely love that.” He said with a gentle smile. He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before walking back to his place at the table between Wooyoung and Yeosang. You took the seat across from Yeosang and the girls sat on either side of you leaving the seat next to Aurora open for Forrest who was ordering lunch for your group. Hongjoong looked at you with a smile, and nodded before continuing a conversation with Mingi. You reached over to Willow and grabbed her hand, you were still reeling from everything that just happened.

“How was your nap, sleepy?” Wooyoung teased. San smacked him on the back of the head and turned quickly to look at you. You shrunk into yourself to hide the blush on your face. 

“Yknow, a little birdy told me that you fell asleep on me too so I could be asking you the same question Woo.” You shot back after gathering yourself. Yeosang laughed heartily. That sound was melodic, even if he decided to cover it up and almost immediately stop after Wooyoung glared at him. He looked at you with a small smile. They all had resumed their conversations. You were listening to the conversation between San, Yeo, and Woo until you heard Jongho speak up from the other side of Willow. 

“Wait, really, she is the oldest of all of us?” Your ears perked up as you knew that you were the oldest out of everyone here. All of their gazes fell to the two who were previously having a quiet discussion. 

“Who is older than all of us?” Seonghwa asked, having not heard it over his conversation with Hongjoong.

“Y/N is 27 which is older than all of us.” Jongho said, looking at you around Willow. 

“Yahh, I didn’t know you were so old Noona,” Wooyoung teased. You heard the snicker of San and you cut both of them an icy glare. 

“Oh whatever,” you rolled your eyes at Wooyoung. “You have no need to use honorifics with me unless you feel it is absolutely necessary. I do not care either way because I am not from here.” You said looking down at your hands. You had never really been referred to as anything other than your name or Boo. That was something that you might have to get used to. 

After a couple of minutes of listening to the chatterboxes you heard Yeosang speak up, “Y/N? Can we see your tattoos?” He asked, looking bashful. You looked down and realized that your sleeves were still rolled up. He must have seen the bottom half of them and gotten curious. What a cute maltese. 

“That's a loaded question,” Forrest said, sitting down with a tray of food and dishing it out to the team. You smiled at him and thanked him. 

“Why is that?” Yeosang asked, cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“She has them all over her body, and some of them are in places that you won't see unless she has her top off,” he teased. Hongjoong and Jongho sputtered their drinks at the other end of the table. Some of it got on the table, Seonghwa and Mingi patted their backs trying to make sure they were okay. Yeosang, Wooyoung and San had their mouths open. Seonghwa, Yuhno and Mingi were blushing like mad. You looked around to everyone and your team started laughing. Full on belly laughter came from your portion of the group. You were sure that the other people in the cafeteria were looking at your group in disgust for being so loud. They should be used to it seeing as Ateez and Xikers were very loud groups. Nothing could have prepared you for the look of pure and utter shock on all of their faces. You squeezed Willow’s hand and let go putting it over your mouth while the other was slapping Aurora’s leg. 

“Forrest, I think you broke all of them,” you wheezed. He shrugged his shoulders and continued laughing. 

“You didn’t expect that answer, did you Yeosang?” Aurora asked between fits of giggles. You looked at him and he still had his mouth open slightly. He looked like a goldfish out of water. You stood up and walked around the table to the three with their mouths hanging open. Choosing to be bold you put a finger under each of their chins to close their mouths. 

“If you keep your mouth open like that you’ll catch flies, boys. It is perfectly normal for a person to have tattoos that others can't see. Get your mind out of the gutter.” you whispered just loud enough for only the three of them to hear. All three of them went cherry red and put their heads down as you strutted back to your seat. You plopped down and started eating, prompting all of the rest of them to continue their meals. Aurora got your attention and motioned under the table for a high five and you obliged her. 

There is only one tattoo you had that you would be embarrassed if they saw. It was a testament to yourself and your independence, but it revolved around one of their songs. The lyrics Mingi sang in Halazia, “Who are you, it's just me myself and I” in your own handwriting to remind you to always be loyal to yourself. It was situated right above the moon tarot card on your left hip. It had been a spur of the moment decision while you were traveling after filming something for a client out of the country. Truthfully it was one of your favorite ones. 

“Y/N how many tattoos do you have? HongJoong asked after he recovered. The genuine curiosity in his eyes was so cute. He was looking at you with his big boba eyes that made everyone swoon. 

“I have eight, most of them are fairly large. You will have to wait to see the ones that are visible without my top off until swimsuit season; then and only then you will get to see them,” You stole a glance at Forrest and he let out a huff of laughter. Hongjoong nodded and continued eating. Most of the boys had recovered, but Yeosang still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

After a little bit of quiet eating from your group Seonghwa stood up and said “Alright, it is almost time for practice, let's go and get our newbies set up and explain to them how things go and what needs to happen for our dance practices.” 

All of the boys chorused in agreement. You stood and helped them clean up the mess everyone created. Once you were finished you followed the group of boys down the hall to where their room was. You had seen this room many times on a screen. You had always been fascinated with how fluidly they moved and how they worked together. You also loved that you could see their personalities shine through in their dancing. All around they were mesmerizing. Some of your favorite videos were the behind the scenes videos. You got to see how they worked and what they preferred to do. 

“Do we need any cameras or is today just a get them set up day?” You asked. walking over to the small desk Hongjoong motioned to. There were four notepads and pens at the ready for you to take notes. How sweet, but you were not one to take notes on paper, it was too much of a hassle to keep all of it together. You preferred to take notes on an iPad or online with the team, that way you could collaborate in the same document. 

“Today is more of a chill day, we are just rehearsing choreography. We have some things that you will need to see to be able to put together an idea of how the shots of the music video could go. We will be recording it in three weeks. I am sure that they might like your input on angles and what could look best for their visions.” Hongjoong said while he started stretching. 

“Before we start can we grab our bags?” You asked. A couple of the boys looked at you curiously. “We prefer to take notes on our iPads so we can compile all of our notes together and discuss what the best course of action is.”

“Yeah you can go grab your stuff, do you need someone to show you where it is? We know this place is a maze.” Hongjoong asked, looking between the four of you. 

“That would be preferable, someone likes to get lost in their free time.” Willow said motioning to you. You turned to her in shock she had not just brought that up. 

“Willow!! You know that being directionally challenged isn't my fault!! Left and right can be hard, that's why I have tattoos; so I can differentiate them from each other.” You defended with an exasperated sigh. She had always teased you for it, she was lucky her brain was wired correctly. Your brain had always been a fucking mess. 

“Sure Boo, whatever you say,” she said grinning at you “you're just lucky you have us to keep your head on your shoulders, keep you from taking a wrong turn somewhere, and from playing in traffic” Your eyes widened, she did not just pull the same shit Aurora did earlier. You lunged at her jokingly attempting to smack her or tickle her. She sidestepped you and before you could stop yourself you ran smack into Forrest’s chest. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and decided that it would be absolutely so much fun to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. You let out a squeal in protest smacking his back. He trotted around the practice room with you bouncing on his shoulder. You could hear the laughter of the boys all around you. 

“Put me down you fucking tree. Willow started it, not me!!” You yelled at him, your plea fell on deaf ears.

“A tree?! Fuck you, you know good and damn well I hate that nickname.” Forrest responded to only part of your statement. He had some of the worst selective hearing. 

“Put me down and I'll say it to your stupid face” you snarked. He set you down on your own two feet, almost throwing you on the ground. You stood toe to toe with him. 

“You. are. a. fucking. tree.” You said in the most serious tone you could poking him in the chest. Aurora got in the middle of the two of you and held you back. She knew you would launch yourself at him to get him back after throwing you around like a ragdoll. 

“Children now let's get a hold of yourselves” Aurora said in a mock serious tone. 

“She started it” you sniped pointing at Willow. She gasped and put a hand to her chest in offence. 

“I would never do such a thing," she said with a smirk. 

“Oh fuck you, lets go get our things, we have already held up their practice enough.” you rolled your eyes and looked around to find out who would be taking you to the room. 

Jongho was the one who stepped up to your group, “I can take you.”

“Thank you Jjong!” You said linking your elbow with his. He looked at you in surprise but went along with it and led you out of the room. 

“I wish we could be like that with her.”

“Is that jealousy I hear” 

“No… okay maybe, but I can't help but to want us to be the people that she is so close to. Or the ones she bickers with like an old married couple.” 

“They have known each other for years, they have a head start on us. We can get to that state; it might just take time.” 

“You know we are impatient men, I just hope we can give it a respectable amount of time before spilling everything.”

“I will make sure that you do.”

“Thank you hyung.”

“So Jjong, what is it like being the scariest and strongest maknae in all of kpop?” 

He chuckled at your question. “It is rewarding to see the faces of people that don't know me. No one would expect me to be the most mature out of all of us. Some people are still shocked by that fact.”

You laughed, he seemed more comfortable around you than you thought he would be. He seemed to be the most hesitant out of all of the boys. He is full of surprises from his vocals to being able to split apples. He really was just a giant teddy bear when it came down to it. You looked at him and smiled, he was so beautiful. Most people do not favor him because of his looks but he was just as beautiful as the rest of them.

“Here we are,” he said, looking at you. Your eyes met and you couldn't help but to blush, there were multitudes behind his eyes. You could spend all day looking into them and never get tired. He was so expressive, his eyes said everything, but they could be hard to read, especially if you barely actually knew him. 

You unlinked your arm from his and walked into the office. Once you got to your backpack you swung it over your shoulder. The rest of your team did the same. You walked back out to meet Jongho and smiled when he looked up at you from his phone. You walked back side by side. Once you got back you set up your camera in the center close to the mirrored walls. You figured that it would be best to get an initial recording to build your notes off of. You then settled yourself right in front of your camera. Your team spread out in a line to take notes with you. You gave the boys a thumbs up and they started to do what they do best. 

The remainder of practice went well, you and your team took notes and started to make a plan for possible angles of the video. You would discuss the plans in more detail later. There were so many ways this could go so doing multiple takes might be something you have to do to get the best result. You were so excited to start on this project and get the ball rolling.  

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Next Chapter (Chapter 6 Coming Soon)

Taglist:

@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland

[codecicle-archive]

been using this to fight most of my anxiety recently. "oh my god the room is spinning my heart is pounding I can't breath" your honor after reviewing the evidence, who gives a fuck lowkey. pop those shock mints and your dick and get on with your day soldier

[kavehayati]

I can’t find the gif but yk that gif where it’s like that cat who has its hands on its head and its meowing super hard as if it’s in agony ? YEAH THAT ONE … that’s me if a Jin doesn’t shapeshift into Kaveh for me 😓

[sunfairiess]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | soft boy jj | best friends to lovers | comfort | fluff

synopsis: reader’s battling against anxiety, and during one of her anxiety attacks jj’s there to help her.

warnings: heavy depiction of anxiety, anxiety attack.

wc: 2.1k

writing this as someone who suffers from anxiety and deals with it on her own, was really emotional; if you find yourself in this position too, please don’t be afraid to ask for help. mental health matters <3

song rec: breathin - ariana grande ♡

everyone fights their own monsters, some are physically visible, others are perceived. some people have to fight against their families, some against their friends. but one of the biggest and worst challenges, was to fight against your own head.

everyone is tormented by their own monsters. hers is called anxiety, the beast who had ruined her life.

at school, her grades started to drop because she was just so tired all the time she couldn’t even bring herself to open the textbook; half of the foods she used to love were cut out of her daily routine because she would get constant heartburn and stomach problems to the point where she wasn’t able to consume a full meal for days.

when it came to sleeping, she couldn’t fall asleep because her mind was always racing with awful thoughts. what if i don’t wake up tomorrow? do my friends hate me because i didn’t go out with them today? is my heart supposed to beat so fast? my back is hurting, is this a health condition? am i going to be alone forever? usually she would go on for hours, reaching three or four in the morning, until she either cried herself to sleep or she almost passed out because of how tired she was.

going out of the house became hard. she became afraid of taking public transportation because what if someone tried to rob her or kidnap her. she couldn’t take long walks anymore because what if something happens and i’m alone. she even had to stop going to parties because she couldn’t stand big and loud crowds of people anymore.

her mental pain became physical: constantly having back problems, her chest and throat always felt too tight to breathe, her body tingling out of nowhere all the time.

it would’ve been a lie to say all of this didn’t reflected onto her relationship with others; she never told anyone about her own problems, not that they could help anyway. so when she started to hang out less with her friends, she always had to lie. i’m grounded, i can’t go out. sorry, i have too much homework to do. i have the flu, i can’t come. my dad needs my help, i’ll come next time. eventually though, she would run out of excuses, and that’s how she ended up for the first time in a month at the château, surrounded by her best friends.

“girl, we haven’t see you in forever, i almost forgot your face.” kiara joked, nudging her a bit with her elbow.

“i know, i’m so sorry guys. past month has been crazy.” which wasn’t a lie per se, she had spent the last weeks having constant anxiety and panic attacks. in the morning, in the afternoon, at night. and every single time she felt like she was about to die, the impending fear of doom creeping inside her. it really started to become unbearable, to the point where she didn’t even notice how many days would go by.

“well you’re here now, that’s what matters.” pope chimed in, giving her a smile. somehow that made her feel a little bit more lighter, knowing that her friends didn’t actually hated her. anxiety made her overthink every little detail of her life.

even though she tried to appear relaxed the whole night, she still felt like she was being chocked by an imaginary hand, pressing harder every time she breathed. she was grateful that none of her friends noticed the stiffness in her body, it would’ve been to hard to explain everything.

at least she thought no one noticed. jj noticed, he always did. he would observe every little detail about her. and from the moment she stepped into the château he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze off of her, not even for a second. he missed her. he hadn’t seen her in weeks and he had become restless. day and night he would think about her, what she was doing, if she missed him, if she too dreamed about him like he did about her. that’s how it felt being in love with your best friend.

jj knew something was up with her. she was always full of joy and energy, but bow it seemed like she had lost her spark. he knew there was something wrong, especially when he saw her fidgeting with her rings, gazing anxiously around her. he knew something was wrong when she got up, excusing herself from the conversation, and almost running to the bathroom.

following her wasn’t probably too good of an idea, but jj was impulsive, so he did it anyway. amen to that, he would’ve dealt with the consequences later, like his confused friends asking him what the heck was going on.

as he entered the bathroom, she was sat on the toilet. her face so pale you would think she was about to pass out.

he sees her as she stares into the wall, her eyes fixed in front of her, full of fear. he notices as she bring her right hand to her throat, sliding slowly down her chest and pressing hard. he hears her breathing going faster and heavier, like she couldn’t catch a full breath. her hands shaking as she tries to ground herself and not slip into the arms of her anxiety.

jj had no idea of what an anxiety attack looked like, he had been fortunate enough to never had one, but he always thought they had to feel awful for whoever got them. but seeing her, his sweet little sunshine, shaking all over the place and being surrounded by a cloud of darkness around her, made his heart break into a thousand millions pieces. he wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how to do it in the right way. he just wanted to do something, and so he did.

“sunshine, hey. baby, look at me. c’mon lemme see your pretty eyes.” he kneeled in front of her, placing both of his hands on her knees and gently rubbing his thumbs against them.

everything was spinning around her, thoughts racing with all the emotions she bottled up and all the fears she always had. she couldn’t stop them, it felt like she was going to be swallowed up by a black vortex. but then she heard his voice, it was like hearing an angel talking. her gaze slowly shifted from the white wall to his eyes, his gorgeous blue eyes, usually shining like stars when they looked at her, but now they were the depiction of concern. she felt a sharp feeling of guiltiness running through her your veins, because the last thing she wanted was to make him sad.

“that’s it, baby. you are so pretty, my pretty girl.” he gave her a soft smile, slowly moving his hands from her knees to her thighs. he wanted to pull her close and hug her, but one time— and thank god for him and the one time jj actually listened to what he said— pope told him that when people had anxiety or panic attacks, most of the time they didn’t wanted to be touched. so, instead of being the usual impulsive jj he was with everyone, he took baby steps with her, not wanting to scare her or make her even more anxious.

her breath was slowly calming down, but the aching in your chest and the lump in her throat were still there, still feeling like she was going to suffocate any moment now, but jj pulled her out of her thoughts again.

“alright pretty girl, i need you to do something for me, ‘kay? i need you to take deep breaths with me, i know it’s hard but i’m here. you’re safe, i won’t let anything happen to you. breathe with me, baby.” his voice was so sweet and gentle, she actually thought she was going to cry because of how soft he was speaking to her and how he was trying to handle the situation. she nodded slightly, following his example as he took one deep breath and then exhaled. one deep breath and exhaled. inhale and exhale. and they went on, and on, until the tension she felt before started to leave her body, making her shoulders and back relax and her hands stop shaking.

jj didn’t say anything this time, he just looked as she regained consciousness of her surroundings. even though the attack was gone, it usually took hours before she could actually calm down completely. it was hard and she always handled them alone, but this time having him with her felt like a blessing from heaven.

feeling like she had just been pulled out of a dark hole, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. he let out a sigh as soon as he felt her flesh touch his own, his arms reaching for her hips and his face buried deep into the crook of her neck. they stayed like this for a almost twenty minutes. he only pulled her in tighter, not wanting to let go of her because he knew as long as she was into his arms, she was safe.

30 minutes later they were laying next to each other in the hammock, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his heart beating calming her, like a lullaby. his hands were both placed on her back, rubbing small circles against the thin fabric of her shirt.

jj really didn’t want to break the peacefulness that surrounded them, but he had to ask her why she never told him anything. he felt like he was failing at being her best friend. “why did you never tell me?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a whisper.

“i- i don’t know. i didn’t want to bother anyone, didn’t want to be a burden.” jj stopped moving his hands on her back, instantly lifting his head to look at her.

“okay, know that i’m not mad, but, firstly, i’m not anyone. i’m your best friend, you would never be a burden to me.” his hands moved to her cheeks, lifting her face. “i’ve been through hell and back these past weeks. not seeing you, not talking to you for more than 5 minutes on the phone, not touching you. it nearly killed me, y/n. i was always on the edge of a breakdown, constantly snapping at everyone because i didn’t know how you were doing. were you safe? were you alright? not knowing made me go insane.”

he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. he was pouring his heart out, which he never do, but he just felt like he had to do it now. “and i’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, that’s the last thing i want. i just wish for you to know how much you mean to me. you’re the most important person in my life, you’re my best friend, my ride or die, my partner in crime. you- you’re my first love, and hopefully you’ll be my last one too.”

her eyes went wide at his words, and honestly she thought she heard him wrong. “jj, what- what are you saying?”

“i know the night wasn’t perfect, but please just lemme say this now because i don’t know when i’ll get the same courage again. i love you, y/n. i love everything about you. i love that weird sound you make when you laugh too much, i love how your eyes shine when you’re talking about things you like, i love how after surfing your hair become all curly. hell, i love even the things you do that should piss me off, like when you throw away my joint because i’ve been smoking too much or when you scream at me because i got in a fight with some kooks again. i love you so much it physically hurts.”

her eyes were watery now, tears threatening to coming out in flows. she didn’t know what to say. because seriously, what do you say to someone who sees you as the most incredible human being, when you can’t even love a quarter of yourself?

you say nothing. but you can do something.

that’s why, in the quietness of the night, under the stars and while she was feeling at peace for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against it.

she wasn’t magically healed, she still had things to deal with. but now, she wasn’t on her own anymore.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[oxydiane]

we talk a lot about how sasuke and naruto are so crazy about each other but there’s never enough attention on how the rest of the naruto cast Also thinks they are two fucking lunatics. like we are not alone on this. you have jiraiya telling naruto he needs to not go and chase a mf who tried to snatch his heart out his ribcage and naruto is like no i’d rather be a fucking moron for the rest of my life honestly. you have naruto leaving a mission and saying sory i cannot stay i need to go home and wait for sasuke and the fucking platypus looks at him ???? like he even had me confused where are you goin g to wait? ? why are you saying that like sasuke is coming back the fuck did i miss??? you have the kage summit arc which is just a whole bucket of ice being dropped onto you because you come in and immediately get slapped in the face by naruto letting himself be beat up because he won’t tell them where sasuke is??? like he has any fucking idea where sasuke is. and sai tries to make him come to his senses like naruto??? naruto WHAT ARE U DOING. it’s so bad they need an intervention. right after that naruto faces the raikage and gets on his knees saying i know my almost boyfriend almost killed your brother but i promise it wasn’t on purpose he was just being silly please don’t put a bounty on his head a war will literally ensue. and like. there’s LAYERS to this. 1. even RAIKAGE is like BOY what are you doing. STAND UP. 2. at this point you can count the people who like sasuke on the fingers of one hand like WHO is gonna start a war over him… naruto out there moving a war against a whole country by himself over his bf ok you go girl i guess. after this it gets even worse like gaara has to go up to him and be like SASUKE DOWSNT CARE ABOUT YOU. HE DOES NOT WANT YOU. and naruto just slaps his hand away in front of his family like rude?????? ignoring anything it is hilariouuusssss and then sai is like sorry. sakura lied to you they are actually off to kill sasuke and naruto gets a panic attack so severe he passes out. like i am not joking it was so bad his friends tried to kill sasuke behind his back. and then naruto escapes bedriddenment (is that a word?) after passing out from his panic attack to run and make sure NOBODY kills sasuke. like he’s on a RUSH leaping those trees he’s a boy on a mission. then after he gets there he’s like kakashi DO NOT TOUCH HIM. they launch themselves at each other bla bla gay monologues did you see what was in my heart and then. and then naruto is like. wait sasuke. and sasuke waits like sorry that’s such a little thing but it’s so funny to me like sasuke was just acting a lil murderous crazy manic wtv but naruto told him to wait and he waits. ok good boyfriend. anyways moving on naruto is like do you get it sasuke. if we fight again we will BOTH DIE! (everybody gets a ?????? bubble) i am the only one who can shoulder all that hatred. i will CARRY THE BURDEN OF YOUR HATRED AND WE WILL DIE TOGETHER! and . absolutely Everybody in that room just goes ???????????? what the FUCK is he TALKING ABKHT. everybody except sasuke. sasuke smirks and he’s like sure. they just talked about dying together and meeting each other in a different life where they’ll be free of their burdens and they’re just Fine and all ok smiling at each other and everyone is so fucking confused. like the entire supporting cast is with us side eyeing sasuke and naruto and thinking what in the everloving FUCK is WRONG WITH YOU????????

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[alisonwritesimagines]

I Was Enchanted to Meet You ~LA!Shanks x Reader~

Summary: Shanks comes back to you before he leaves your village once again. Except this time, it may be your final goodbye.

Author’s Note: I just watched the live action One Piece show and I have to say... I am a slut for Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk.

Fluff Ending | Angst Ending

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of smut, reader and Shanks being Luffy's adoptive parents in a way

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You were Luffy's caretaker and teacher. While his grandfather was a high respected Marine, he entrusted you with his grandson whenever he wasn't available to take care of him.

"I'm bored of this," Luffy said as you two were going over some reading.

"A good pirate should know how to read."

"Yeah but I should be preparing to set sail when Shanks comes back," Luffy said.

"How about this? We can go see Shanks today since he is suppose to be back today after we finish our lesson?" You asked him.

"Alright!" Luffy smiled before looking down at his book.

True to your word, you both headed over to the dock where you saw Shanks's ship. You watched as Luffy rushed over to the deck before helping out.

"Luffy! I was wondering when you'd pop up," Shanks said as he finally noticed the small boy. You leaned against the edge while Shanks looked around before finally seeing you. His smile widen a little more before walking over towards you.

"And how are you, my dear Y/n?" Shanks asked as he raised your hand to his lips.

"Nice to see you again Shanks," you smiled at him.

"I'm not joking! I'm ready to join your crew," Luffy insisted to Shanks.

"The sea isn't a child's game. It's dangerous. The scars on my face are proof of that. Besides, I need someone to watch over Y/n and I trust you," Shanks told Luffy as he continued to help his crew unload their ship.

"I can do it, Shanks. I swear," Luffy said.

"You're not ready."

"I am. And I'll show you!" Luffy said before rushing off in the ship. You walked over to Shanks before placing your hand on his. He looked over at you as you gave him a look.

"You really need to be more easy on him. You know how he can be," you tell Shanks.

"Better a disappointed kid now than a dead one later."

"I blame you for being a good pirate and influencing him," you tell him.

"I missed you. Let's celebrate my return tonight together shall we?" Shanks asked you.

"Hey, Shanks!" You heard Luffy. You quickly turned around to see Luffy standing on the top of the view port making you gasp once you saw the knife.

"Luffy! You better come back down here and put that knife back where you found it!" You tell him.

"Listen to Y/n, Luffy. Before you hurt yourself," Shanks called out.

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt. And I'll prove it to you," Luffy yelled before stabbing right below his eye.

"Luffy!" You screamed in shock and horror.

"Get the first aid kit! I'll get him down," Shanks told you. You nodded before rushing out of the ship to grab your first aid kit.

"Why would you do that to yourself?!" You asked Luffy as you stitched him up.

"You could've stabbed your eye," Shanks told him as he sat next to you.

"I was aiming for it, but I missed," Luffy told you.

"Ow," Luffy said as you tightened the stitches a little.

"I thought you said you were tough," Shanks asked him.

"I am! Y/n is just being a little too rough. I want everyone to see my scar," Luffy said.

"Scars don't make the man, Luffy. It's the lesson behind the scar and you didn't earn this one," Shanks told him before tapping his cheek.

"Then let me earn it. I'll be the best pirate ever. Look, I've been practicing what my face is gonna look like on my wanted poster," Luffy said before making a face. You shook your head at him as you gathered your things.

"You are going to give me a heart attack, Luffy," you tell him as you ruffled his hair. You stood up and walked away to put your first aid kit back.

When you made it back to the bar, you saw Shanks walk up to your with your favorite drink. You sat on the chair next to the bar as you faced Shanks. He raised the glasses to you with a smile.

"Have a drink with me," Shanks told you.

"I need to look after Luffy."

"One drink. Then later tonight, you meet me at my ship and we can have our little reunion?" Shanks insisted.

It was no doubt that the two of you had feelings for one another. Shanks loved how soft and caring you were while you loved his gentle touch when it came to you.

"Fine. I hope I don't find anything that belongs to another woman in your ship again," you tell him, remembering the last time you went to his ship after Luffy was asleep.

"It was one time and you know I changed my ways for you," Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You took a swing of your drink before giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

Once it became nightfall, you got Luffy ready for bed so you could meet with Shanks. After finding out that he ate a devil fruit, you were livid but you knew that Luffy didn't understand what power and weaknesses the devil fruit had affected him.

"I don't know why you won't let us go with Shanks," Luffy said as you tucked him in.

"You know that the sea isn't for me and you aren't ready to be a pirate. Even if you did eat a devil's fruit," you tell him.

"But you and Shanks love each other. Why can't we just sail with him? I can learn how to be a pirate and I'm stronger now," Luffy said.

"Your grandfather will kill me if I just took you away. And like I said, I am not too fond of the sea. Now it's time for bed for you," you tell him.

"Fine. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Luffy."

Once he was fully asleep, you walked over to Shanks's ship where you could see his quarter's lights on. You walked over to his room where he lied on his bed with his shirt off.

"Getting straight to the point now are we?" You teased as you closed the door behind you. You locked the door before walking over towards his bed. Shanks sat up so you could stand in between his legs.

"I missed you, my love," Shanks said as he pulled you down on the bed with him.

He cupped your cheeks as he kissed you passionately. You cupped his cheeks as well, smoothing your thumb against his scars below his eye.

"I missed you too," you tell him in between kisses.

"Let me have you for tonight," Shanks said as he undid your dress. You sat up before slipping it off of your body.

"You're as beautiful as the day I met you," Shanks praised as he sat up to kiss your body.

-

"How long are you staying this time?" You asked him as you both lied in his bed. Your naked bodies was covered by the thin blanket as you both held onto each other.

"Till tomorrow," Shanks told you.

"How long will you be gone?" You asked. Shanks stayed quiet making you look up at him.

"Shanks. How long will you be gone?" You repeated.

"We're not coming back this time, my love," Shanks told you.

"What?"

"Come with me. I'll take care of you and-"

"Shanks, my home is here. And I can't leave Luffy. He's still a growing boy and I could never forgive myself if I were to abandon him," you tell him as you sat up.

"My love-"

"Shanks, I'm not joining you in the sea and you know why. I'm sorry," you tell him as you got up and put your clothes back on.

"Stay the night. Please," Shanks said as he held your hand.

"I can't. I think it's best if we ended this," you tell him.

"I don't want this to end. Please, Y/n. Come with me to find the One Piece and we can live our lives out together," Shanks told you. You shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss.

"I love you, Shanks. But I can't leave here. Not yet at least," you tell him before walking out.

-

The next day, you watched as Shanks says his goodbye to Luffy. You stared as he gave his hat to Luffy before making eye contact with you. He walked over towards you before taking something out of his pocket.

"I saw this while I was away and wanted to give it to you," Shanks said as he held out a beautiful ring.

"Shanks-"

"I just want you to know that I want you, my love. Will you wait for me?" Shanks asked.

"You need to find that one piece soon so you can come back and get me," you tell him with a small smile.

"I'll come back for you. I promise," Shanks said before sliding the ring onto your finger. He quickly gave you a kiss before walking away.

You put an arm around Luffy as you watched Shanks's ship sail off. You both waved at him as he stared at the two of you.

"When I become King of the Pirates, I'll give you a nice home where you and Shanks can live the rest of your lives together," Luffy tells you. You smiled down at him before ruffling his hair.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him.

[coco-loco-nut]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Pairing: None

Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat

A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

_________

You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.

You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.

“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.

“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.

“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.

“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.

“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.

“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.

“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?

“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.

You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.

“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.

“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.

“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.

“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.

“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.

“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.

“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.

“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”

“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.

“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.

“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.

“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.

“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.

“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.

Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.

You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.

“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.

“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.

“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.

You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.

In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.

“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.

“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.

“Who’s afraid of little old me?”

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little boy Part 3 (Jeongyeon)

A/N: I am really sorry that I am suffering from the heavy workload for my job so I don't even have any mood or time to write, so just upload an draft that was ready for so long, and my first Jeongyeon smut.

My mum, Jeongyeon usually looks noble and elegant, like a lady, I accidentally discovered a little secret she hides - she is particularly interested in using handcuffs during sex.

One time I went to her bedroom to look for something and found a brand-new pair of leather handcuffs hidden in a box under the bed. At the time, I thought it was Jeongyeon’s collection. After all, she is the kind of girl who likes to collect small objects. Later, I discovered several pieces of sexy underwear and stockings in the handcuffs' packaging bag, and then I realized that these might not be just "collectables."

Sure enough, I eavesdropped on several phone conversations between her and her friends, and I heard Jeongyeon complaining that my dad had never tried to discipline her with handcuffs, saying how much she longed to be tied up and ravaged, to experience that sense of futility, helpful and stimulating feeling.

It turns out that Jeongyeon, who looks noble on the outside, also has perverted desires in her heart, which gave me a new understanding of her and an interest in her. Whenever I see such a twisted mind hidden under her noble and elegant appearance, I get so excited that I want to immediately hold her down and punish her so that she can know what true happiness is.

One evening, I walked in while Jeongyeon was practicing pole dancing in her exclusive practice room. At that time, Jeongyeon was only wearing a tight dance suit, with her slender legs exposed and her breasts swaying slightly due to the intense exercise. I deliberately interrupted her practice and went up to chat with her.

"Mom, your pole dancing is getting better and better! I really want to know what would happen if you were tied up there?" I said with a smirk.

"Oh! Don't make such a joke!" Jeongyeon scolded me with a red face. I knew this little stimulation was enough to arouse her arousal.

"If Mom really likes handcuffs so much, why not try it today?" I took out the handcuffs I had prepared and waved them in front of her.

"My son…what do you want to do…" Jeongyeon's voice was trembling, and I knew she was already a little emotional.

"I want to give Mom a little surprise." I approached her, easily wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed her against the steel pipe.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's tone has softened, and I know that she has completely surrendered to her desires.

I clasped her hands together behind her back, and then slowly took off her dance clothes until she was completely naked before my eyes.

Jeongyeon's body was flawless, and her snow-white skin reflected a soft light in the dim training room. I stretched out the tip of my tongue to lick the two bright red spots on her chest. I kneaded her elastic buttocks with one hand and probed into her private parts with the other hand. I easily found the hidden flower core and drew circles around it to tease.

"Um… My son… no…" Jeongyeon's body trembled slightly, and the corners of her eyes were filled with confusion. She tried hard not to scream, but every time my fingers brushed the sensitive flesh The core caused her to let out a low moan.

I held the cock that was already ready for battle, rubbed it against the entrance of her flower hole, and then pushed forward with all my strength. "Ah…it's too big…My son…" Jeongyeon finally couldn't help but scream out. She arched her back to bear my fierce attack, and honey juice continued to flow out from the place where the two of them met.

"Mom, you're so tight down there. I've long wanted to fuck you until you lose consciousness." I leaned down and bit her ear, gasping while thrusting vigorously.

"Ah… My son… slow down… I want to be fucked by you…" Jeongyeon's reason has been swallowed up by desire. She twisted her waist to meet my movements, craving like a complete bitch. More.

I hit the deepest part of her hard, each stroke bringing us huge pleasure. Jeongyeon was moaning loudly after being fucked by me. Her whole body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, making her look extremely sexy and sultry.

"Scream louder! I just love hearing my mother scream!" I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, forcing her to look up at me.

Jeongyeon's expression is both painful and happy, and her wet eyes make me feel pity for her, but I can't help but want to destroy her last shred of self-esteem.

"Mom, do you think this is too perverted? You are my mother, but you are doing this kind of thing with me…" I deliberately slowed down and changed to slow friction. Every time I pressed against the most sensitive part, on one point.

"Ah…don't…stop…My son…continue…" Jeongyeon's mind was already in confusion. She shook her head randomly, unable to understand what I was saying.

I quickened the pace again and took all of her wildly. "Mom, do you know who you are having sex with? It's me, your son!" I laughed maliciously, and every time I penetrated her deeper, she moaned louder.

"Oh…My son…I can't stand it anymore…I'm almost there…" Jeongyeon's eyes turned white and she was foaming at the mouth. I knew she was about to climax.

I pushed hard to the end, then leaned on her, sealing her mouth with my lips. Our tongue tips chased and sucked each other, sharing each other's saliva. Jeongyeon's orgasm was so intense that she clutched my back, her nails leaving deep scratches on my skin. I also reached the extreme at the same time and ejaculated a large amount of hot cum in the deepest part of Jeongyeon.

We held each other tightly, enjoying the afterglow of orgasm. Two lines of tears fell from the corners of Jeongyeon's eyes. I don't know whether it was because of pleasure or shame, maybe both. I kissed the corners of her eyes gently, kissing away those tears one by one.

I've been waiting for this day for so long - finally being able to fuck Jeongyeon in my fantasies. Jeongyeon was trembling slightly under me, her lips were slightly open, her eyes were out of focus, and her expression was like that of a girl who had just gone through puberty. This gave me an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I know that Jeongyeon must be ashamed at this moment, but the more she shows this reaction, the more my desire to conquer is aroused. I raised Jeongyeon's legs again and wrapped them around my waist, and then buried myself deeply inside her again.

"Oh…My son…slow down…I can't bear it…" Jeongyeon begged me to slow down, but I remained unmoved. Instead, I thrust into her deepest parts even more fiercely. "Mom, you're so hot inside, it's like you were tailor-made for me." I smiled proudly, while increasing my speed, thrusting to the bottom every time, feeling the pleasure of her tight muscles wrapping around me.

"Ah… My son… you are too… too big…" Jeongyeon was so fucked that she lost her voice. She tried to raise her neck to escape from my attack but to no avail.

I looked at Jeongyeon's painful expression under me, and I felt an evil fire rising in my heart. She is supposed to be my mother, but now she is like a doll, letting me do whatever I want. This feels so wonderful!

I increased my speed a little more, hitting her G-spot hard every time, causing her to scream again and again. Jeongyeon was fucked so hard by me that she became incontinent, and a warm current surged out of her body, but I continued to fuck her, trying to force out more of her body fluids.

Jeongyeon looked at her hands that were handcuffed to the steel pipe, and then at her son who was raping her, feeling a sense of shame and guilt. But what followed was an unprecedented pleasure - which was completely different from what her husband had given her. Her son's thick, long and powerful flesh blade was raging inside her body, bringing intense pleasure with every blow.

She recalled her married life with my father, a weak man who could not meet her needs no matter what. As time passed, her interest in sex became less and less. It wasn't until my appearance that she rekindled the flame of desire.

Now, she was lying here, being raped by her son, and she was still enjoying the pleasure! This made Jeongyeon feel extremely ashamed, but she couldn't control her body and instead actively catered to her son's attack.

I roughly took possession of every part of her, from her breasts to her thighs, to the center of her body below. There was no part that I missed. Jeongyeon never thought that she would be so addicted to sex, especially when she was possessed by her biological son. I suddenly quickened my pace, and each thrust violently opened her door, reaching the deepest part of her soft flesh. Jeongyeon's reason completely disappeared at this time, leaving only endless desire dominating her. She yelled for her son to push harder and push it all in, not caring what a ridiculous request it was.

"My son…you are so powerful…you are going to break me…" Jeongyeon screamed incoherently. She had lost the ability to think and could only follow her instincts to pursue the greatest pleasure.

I heard her words and was obviously encouraged. I growled and accelerated the rhythm. Each stroke was more ferocious than the previous one, driving straight into the deepest part of Jeongyeon, as if I wanted to fuck the entire body.

"Mom, do you know how much I long for you? I have been imagining the scene now - occupying every inch of your skin, doing whatever I want inside you… Now I finally did it!" I shouted, like It violently fucked Jeongyeon’s pussy like a wild animal.

"Ah…My son…you are so big…I won't be able to do it…" Jeongyeon was so stunned by me that she raised her head, her eyes were blurred, and she was completely lost in the whirlpool of lust.

I looked at Jeongyeon underneath me. This was the image I had been dreaming about for many years - my mother was naked, being held down and fucked wildly by me. The place where she once gave birth to me has now become mine. plaything. This taboo stimulation makes my blood boil. I just want to violate her more fiercely and turn her into my private property.

I picked up Jeongyeon's thighs, folded her into a very aggressive position, and then thrust inside her hard. "Ah——!" Jeongyeon exclaimed, her lower body was completely filled by me, and the deepest part was completely occupied by me.

"Mom, you see clearly, I am inside you now, and we are finally truly one." I showed a proud smile and began to thrust vigorously.

"Oh…My son…you are going to…break me…" Jeongyeon cried. She twisted around desperately to escape my attack, but I held her firmly and refused to let her go. "No, Mom, you are mine now and will never leave." I gasped and sped up, each stroke bringing out more body fluids from Jeongyeon's body, making my pubic hair wet.

"Hmm… My son… you are much stronger than your dad… fuck me… harder…" Jeongyeon was immersed in my offensive. She forgot all shame and just wanted to pursue a bigger one. pleasure.

"Mom, it turns out that you have always wanted me to treat you like this, so let go of everything now, and I will give you an orgasm you have never had before." I smiled proudly, grabbed Jeongyeon's wrist and pulled her up, letting her lean against her. My body takes my fucks.

"Ah… My son… I really can't do it anymore… Where are you going to cum…" Jeongyeon felt my flesh blade expand more and more inside her body, and knew that I was almost there. "Of course, I will cum directly inside you, Mom, I want to fill you with my seed." I accelerated my thrusting, and finally buried it deeply into her bottom, shooting out wave after wave of hot semen on the center of the flower.

"Oh——!" Jeongyeon screamed, completely filled with my heat, and her reason completely collapsed.

I looked at Jeongyeon who was fucked into a daze by me, and the desire to conquer in my heart was satisfied to the greatest extent. From now on, Jeongyeon is no longer my mother, but a woman who belongs to me. I can possess her, manipulate her at any time, and turn her into a sex-chasing machine.

I leaned down and kissed Jeongyeon's lips. Her tongue immediately intertwined with mine, and their fluids exchanged. I slowly pulled out but remained inside her, ready for the next round of fighting.

"Mom, are you ready? We have a whole day ahead," I murmured in her ear as I pushed forward and penetrated her again.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's body has been toyed with by me until her whole body aches, but I still have no intention of stopping. She didn't know how many times I had cum inside her, and her body was filled with my sticky semen, which even continued to overflow from our joint and wet the sheets underneath her.

"My son… I can't stand it anymore… let's stop, please…" Jeongyeon begged me, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, but more of them were the remnants of pleasure. "It's impossible, Mom, I'm going to fuck you to the core, and I won't stop until you completely belong to me." I smiled evilly and increased my speed as if I wanted to stuff my whole body into Jeongyeon's body.

"Ah…oh my god…" Jeongyeon shouted in a daze. She desperately grabbed my shoulders to use her strength, for fear that I would knock her apart.

I picked up Jeongyeon's body and turned her over to kneel on the bed. This position raised her buttocks high, making it easier for me to penetrate further. I held Jeongyeon's waist, entered her body again, and then started thrusting hard.

"Mom, do you feel it? I have reached the deepest part of you. I want to take it completely, including your most private part." I growled, pushing against Jeongyeon's heart with every stroke, like As if to open it completely.

"Ah…My son…you are going to fuck me to death…" Jeongyeon cried, she was completely under my control and could only let me do whatever I wanted inside her.

In this way, I continued to fuck Jeongyeon for several hours, until the sunset and shone into the room through the window, I reluctantly withdrew from Jeongyeon's body and unlocked her from the handcuff.

At dinner time, Jeongyeon and I sat down to eat together. On the surface, it looked like normal. But I know that Jeongyeon has not completely let go of the shame and guilt of my raping her. She just doesn't want me to see her weak side.

I gently caressed Jeongyeon's belly, which still contained the bodily cum I had just injected. The blood of the mother and son mixed, forming a twisted connection. "Mom, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked knowingly, but actually I wanted to guide Jeongyeon to give up resistance and obey my wishes.

"…I want to sleep, My son." Jeongyeon replied coldly as if telling me that this is the end of tonight.

I'm a little disappointed, but I also understand that Jeongyeon needs some time to adjust to this new relationship. So I had to let her go and let her go back to her room to rest. At night, while my dad was away at work, Jeongyeon suddenly came to my room with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. I was a little surprised and didn't know what she meant.

"Mom, what are you…" I tried to persuade her to give up this stupid behavior.

"I haven't settled the accounts with you for what happened during the day." Jeongyeon's tone was cold. She grabbed me by the collar and threw me hard on the bed. "Mom, what are you talking about…" I tried to stand up, but saw that Jeongyeon had already handcuffed my wrists.

"Since you raped me during the day, it's my turn to take revenge on you." Jeongyeon looked at me condescendingly, with a trace of madness in her eyes.

I was a little panicked, but I also knew that I couldn't stop Jeongyeon. She quickly took off my clothes, exposing my whole body, then climbed onto the bed, spread my lips with her fingers, and penetrated me unceremoniously.

I tried to resist, but once I was subdued by Jeongyeon, all my efforts were in vain. Her fingers were domineering inside my mouth, roughly exploring every corner, forcing me to serve her. "Well… you learn so fast… good boy." Jeongyeon took out her fingers, which were stained with my saliva. She stuck out her tongue and licked the water on them, her expression showing great enjoyment.

I knew Jeongyeon was trying to humiliate me, but my physiological reaction was out of control. Under Jeongyeon's stimulation, my lower body gradually began to react, and the flesh blade set up a small tent under my shorts.

"Humph, you reacted so quickly? It turns out that you are also looking forward to being violated by me." Jeongyeon looked at me contemptuously, stretched out her hand to touch my cock, and kneaded it through the fabric.

"Um…Mom…don't be like this…" I twisted around in embarrassment, but was pinned down by Jeongyeon on the bed, unable to move.

"Don't worry, I will love you well." Jeongyeon smiled and took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful body.

I stared at Jeongyeon's body closely. She was like a sexy goddess, approaching me step by step, but I was trapped in place, unable to do anything.

Jeongyeon sat astride my thighs, holding my flesh blade with her hands, and slowly sat down after finding the correct position. I only felt a sultry heat wrapping around my front end, and Jeongyeon's body cavity was extremely soft as if my flesh blade had been swallowed alive. "Oh…Mom…it's so deep…" I moaned unconsciously, the pleasure of being completely possessed by Jeongyeon almost overwhelming my reason. "Moan louder, don't hold back, My son." Jeongyeon looked down at me, with the pride of a conqueror in her eyes.

She began to move her waist up and down, allowing my meat blade to move in and out of her body. My cock was lubricated by her nectar, and the movements became smoother. The walls of Jeongyeon's body cavity squeezed my crown, causing a numbing sensation. I couldn't help but gasp loudly.

"Oh…Mom…slow down…" I begged Jeongyeon to slow down. Her fierce attack made me unable to resist.

"No, I want to penetrate you and take all of you." Jeongyeon's voice became hoarse and sexy. She sped up the swing of her waist, and at the same time, she used more force on my cock.

There was a dizziness in front of my eyes, and the pleasure brought by Jeongyeon came in waves like a tide. I couldn't think at all and could only follow my instinctive reaction. My breathing became rapid, my chest heaved up and down, Jeongyeon's fingers twisted my nipples, and the double stimulation of the sensitive parts made me crazy.

"Mom…I'm almost there…" I realized that I was about to cum inside Jeongyeon, but I couldn't control my emotions. "Cum for me, spread all your seeds inside me." Jeongyeon shouted without restraint, and she increased her speed, as if she wanted to drain my whole body.

At the last moment, my sanity was disconnected, I pushed forward with all my strength, and ejaculated inside Jeongyeon. Wave after wave of hot water spurted out, and I felt unprecedented relief, and my whole body was trembling with orgasm.

"Ahh…" Even though I had reached my climax, Jeongyeon had no intention of letting it go. She was still swinging her waist, letting my cock rub and pump inside her. My already extremely sensitive area was stimulated again, and I couldn't help but cry out.

"Mom…that's enough…let me take a rest…" I looked at Jeongyeon helplessly, only to see her eyes were blurred, and the corners of her mouth raised a coquettish arc.

"Look, you're hard again. Didn't you beg for mercy just now?" Jeongyeon held my cock, feeling its hardness and pulse.

I did have feelings again. How could I resist the hot squirming in Jeongyeon's body? But my rationality tells me that if I continue, I will be tortured by Jeongyeon until I become dehydrated.

"I really…can't do it anymore…Mom…" I almost burst into tears. This sex was really beyond my ability to bear.

"Oh? Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?" Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. She sped up her lower body movements, and my cock rubbed red inside her body.

"No…I'm afraid that I can't bear it…" I confessed frankly that Jeongyeon's skills were so good, she seemed to know how to stimulate me to the maximum extent.

"Don't worry, I will make you so happy." Jeongyeon smiled charmingly, and she increased her speed and intensity, as if she really wanted to torture me to the point of insanity.

My consciousness became increasingly blurred, and all the senses in my body seemed to be focused on my lower body. Every time Jeongyeon fucked me, I was intoxicated. My penis swelled more and more inside her, and the pleasure doubled. I no longer knew what I was shouting, I just kept shaking my head and buttocks in time with Jeongyeon's rhythm.

"Ahhh…I'm going…Mom…" I whimpered, my lower body reached climax again, and a thick white sticky substance spurted out from the cock, and all of it was injected into Jeongyeon's body.

However, Jeongyeon didn't stop, she was still bobbing up and down, and my cock continued to move in and out of her body. My reason has long been far away from me, leaving only the most primitive lust dominating my thinking.

"Mom…let me rest…I really can't do it anymore…" I struggled to get up, but Jeongyeon pushed me back to the bed.

"It doesn't matter, we still have a long time to play." Jeongyeon said with a smile. She increased the pressure of her weight, allowing my cock to go deeper into her body. I felt as if my body was about to be swallowed up by Jeongyeon. The wall of her body cavity was like a huge black hole, sucking in all my energy. My physical strength is draining away, and my mind is drifting away. I am like a toy in Jeongyeon's hands, letting her take whatever she wants.

Jeongyeon's speed is getting faster and faster, and I have feelings again. During this cycle, I didn't know how many times I had ejaculated, nor how much energy I still had. All I knew was that I was becoming addicted to this endless sexual affair and could no longer extricate myself.

"Mom…" I moaned, and another turbulence erupted from my lower body. "So good, You a lot more." Jeongyeon smiled frivolously, lowered her head, stuck out her tongue and swirled it around my nipples. My whole body was shaken, and the pleasure instantly spread to all my limbs. My cock also became erect again, as if it would never tire. "Mom…I'm really going to die…" I cried, but couldn't help but follow Jeongyeon's movements.

"Then you die under me." Jeongyeon said viciously. She sped up her lower body and sucked my nipples harder.

I was completely immersed in this infinite pleasure, as if I was in heaven. I no longer know where I am, and I don't care if I am still alive. I just want more, I want Jeongyeon to bring me endless orgasms.

"Ah…Mom…I'm coming again…" I growled, my body beating fiercely inside Jeongyeon. "Then cum for me, cum all for me!" Jeongyeon shouted wildly. She clasped her legs tightly on my hips and slammed her lower body against my cock.

My sanity finally broke completely, I roared loudly, and once again released a large amount of turbid hot liquid inside Jeongyeon's body. I feel like my cock has become numb. It only knows how to keep twitching and gushing, sacrificing everything it has to Jeongyeon.

In these rounds of sex, I seemed to have lost myself and became Jeongyeon’s exclusive plaything. The only thing I can do is surrender to her and give everything I have…

A whole night passed, and I was tortured by Jeongyeon until I became inhuman. I don't remember how many times I ejaculated, I just felt like my cock was about to explode. Jeongyeon's body was also covered with my seed, and there was thick white fluid inside and outside her body. But she didn't seem tired at all and was even more energetic than before. I was lying on the bed, my eyes were distracted and my consciousness was in a trance. My penis was hanging there limply, covered with traces of our intercourse. "How are you, my good son, are you feeling comfortable?" Jeongyeon climbed on top of me, and she stroked my body with her hands, her tone a bit teasing. I couldn't answer, so I just snorted softly.

"I thought you were going to be drained by me, but it turns out that you look like you are enjoying it." Jeongyeon sneered, and she used her fingers to rub circles on the cock, as if to wake it up again.

I tried my best to turn my head away from her touch. Although the cock has a tendency to rise its head again, I really can't bear it anymore. "Don't…Mom…I really don't have a drop left…" I begged weakly, tears flowing down uncontrollably.

"Oh? Really?" Jeongyeon stared at me playfully, and then suddenly kissed my lips. Her nimble tongue entered my mouth and intertwined with mine. My mind fell into chaos again, and my lower body became erect again uncontrollably.

"You see, you are just a greedy child," Jeongyeon said easily. She stood up, supported my cock and pointed it at her already-soaked pussy. I closed my eyes and waited for the arrival of a new round of violent storms…

From then on, whenever my father went out to work, Jeongyeon and I would have a lot of sex in bed, as if this had become our daily compulsory routine. Jeongyeon became more and more aggressive, trying various ways to possess me, whether it was a normal position or some unspeakable posture, she would try them one by one.

And I have been completely conquered by Jeongyeon. I am addicted to her sex and have become her toy that is ready for use at any time. I catered to her every request without shame and even made some perverted requests to please her.

Our lives seemed to consist only of sex. Except for going to school, we almost stayed in bed and had sex. My grades plummeted, but I didn't care. All I care about is her, my beloved mommy.

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter Two

(Previous Chapter)

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 7,500 Chapter Song Inspo: Obey - Bring Me The Horizon

Chapter Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst kinda, eventual fluff, anxiety/panic attack, vomit (nothing graphic), Rhysand being an ass, Nesta x Reader friendship, Rhysand slander lol,  AFAB Reader, Reader (You), fluff, some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish Note: So is this fluff? Debatable. But there is still plenty of Az fluff in it, you just got to work for it a little more this time. You don’t need to read the first chapter to understand what’s going on here, but they are connected!

XxXx

Your 3rd year in Velaris....

It took almost three years of employment with the Inner Circle for you to personally encounter the ‘Night Triumphant’ persona. You were not impressed. The most serious you’d seen your cousin was ‘High Lord Rhysand’, the fierce leader, but even that was limited to political business outside of Velaris. More so than not, it was just Rhys, your fun loving, sarcastic friend who so happened to wield an enormous amount of power. 

The male sitting at his work desk was not your ‘Rhys’. Hell this wasn’t even High Lord Rhysand. The Night Triumphant held eye contact with you, gaze calculated and stern. You studied the authority in his expression, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Staring him down right back, you waited for the facade to break and reveal the male you had come to know as family. You searched his face for the guy who would rather face Amarantha again than put you in such a precarious situation. The very situation that plagued you with consistent nightmares since you left Hewn City.

You did not find that male.

Your gaze flitted to Mor, her body draped in a leather armchair off to the side, hoping to find a trace of humor in her expression. She tried to look nonchalant, but there was a sharp edge to her that betrayed her own trepidation.

Nesta stood an arm’s length away from you, uncharacteristically quiet in the wake of your High Lord’s orders. She seemed as if she was waiting to see who would escalate things first. Rhysand had summoned the three of you to his office to brief everyone on an upcoming…obligation. He prefaced the meeting by saying that he knew it wasn’t an ideal assignment. He wasn’t asking if you wanted to do it, it was non negotiable. 

In two months time, you, Nesta, and Mor would be answering a summons to Hewn City. Kier had been requesting a personal audience with you for the last year. Mor and Rhysand could no longer postpone it, as you were a Night Court Courtier afterall.

Still, you did not want to believe that Rhys would ask this of you. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t very funny, Rhysand.”

“I know you can tell that I am not joking.” His flinty tone brook no argument.

Any hope of reasoning with the Night Triumphant withered away. He summoned you to his office well aware that you wouldn’t take kindly to being sent back. Here you’d been thinking Rhysand understood your trauma best, having been held captive and used while Under the Mountain. 

It appeared that you had misjudged him.

Just as you were about to say as much, Mor spoke up for the first time since the meeting started. “Kier threatened mutiny at the last Council meeting. At first he demanded a private audience, even after I informed him of our bargain. When we still refused to send you by yourself despite his threats, he agreed on these terms. You and Nesta because you’re a team, and me because I oversee The Court of Nightmares anyway. He couldn’t argue with that logic.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. After 300 years of being nothing but a tool for your father, the idea of seeing Kier’s face again so soon had your lunch sitting heavy in your stomach. It was inevitable, he thought you were loyal to him, his spy on the inside. You had zero idea how you were going to handle a reunion with him, simply thinking about it made you short of breath.

Your nights were plagued with stress dreams about what it would be like to return to your old home. You avoided stewing on the topic during your waking hours. The inevitability of it all often sent you spiraling, you couldn’t ghost Kier forever, but you thought you had more time. There was no fucking way you were ready. “I can’t do this,” You said, “give me any other assignment, and I’ll do it. Just not this.”

“You can,” Rhysand enunciated each word, slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t sure you would understand him, “and you will.” 

Oh hell no. You did not uproot your entire life to be spoken to like that. “Do not speak to me like a child, Rhysand–”

“Then stop acting like one,” he scolded, like you were the one being unreasonable, “this is your duty to your court, what I pay you to do. If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here.”

Rhysand’s words hit like a blow. Your sharp intake of breath was echoed by both Nesta and Mor, but you couldn’t see them, they might as well have not been there, your world shrinking down to Rhysand as he regarded you coldly.

“So what will it be?” He addressed you, leaning forward over his desk, leering, “will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today?” He pressured.

Your hands fisted, ire rising up so fast it made your eyes sting with unshed tears. If you got kicked out of Velaris you’d undoubtedly end up back in Hewn City. And you couldn’t let that happen, not after you finally got a taste of freedom.

Rhysand may like to believe himself better than Kier, but how was this any different from how Kier treated you? Was this your destiny? Undeserving of kindness unless you proved your worth? 

What about you made people forget that you were a living, breathing being? Just like everyone else in the room, you had feelings that mattered, and hopes for your future. You’d been stripped of your freewill for the first three centuries of your life. It was a wonder that you hadn’t gone mad.

Were you only allowed a taste of freedom? Was that Rhysand’s plan all along? Get you hooked on life in Velaris then dangle it in front of you like you were a simple mule, your freedom the carrot held just out of reach.

It made your blood boil.

“My apologies.” You sneered at him, gone was the meek, conditioned wallflower. You meant all the disrespect. In a dramatic flourish you bowed low to Rhysand, making sure he saw your contempt for him when he met your gaze.

 You maintained direct eye contact as you hissed harsh sarcasm at him, “I am at your disposal, High Lord.”

Rhysand’s eyes flared with something dark and aggressive. Time slowed, a pulse of his power cresting over you in a suffocating wave, a preview of how oppressive he could make it if he so wished. Dread replaced your anger, the confidence you’d displayed moments ago dissipating. You struggled to not show how he had shaken you, and by some miracle, you stood your ground. Still, he could probably hear your heart pounding from where he sat.

Amidst the theatrics, your own power had not been so keen on backing down. It had coiled around you like a viper ready to strike, protective, as Rhysand’s prowling darkness prodded your boundaries. 

This version of Rhysand left you stricken, unable to reconcile the egregious behavior with the male you’d had breakfast with just that morning. It felt like his power was tearing you in half, and he wasn’t even exerting himself. He looked bored.

Did you escape the clutches of one villain, only to run into the hands of another? Were you really that foolish?

Mor stepped into your field of vision, mouthing something at you. You hadn’t realized your ears were ringing until the shrill noise faded enough for you to hear her calling your name. The frantic quality of her voice snapped you out of whatever daze Rhysand’s power had cast on you.

Right. Nesta and Mor had witnessed that entire thing. You’d forgotten about their presence in the heat of the moment, your attention tunnel visioned on Rhysand. He had humiliated you in front of some of the most important people in your life. The only thing that could have made it worse was if Azriel had been there too.

Intense embarrassment flooded you, a seed of distrust taking root deep in your heart. You felt so stupid, thinking you could trust Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Mor was still trying to get your attention, but you stared right past her, looking at Rhysand like you hated him.

Hell. Maybe you did.

Mor called your name once more with urgency, moving closer to you, half turned so she hadn’t given her back to her High Lord, but solely focused on you. “It’s the best we could do without inciting a civil war.” She tried to clarify, emphasizing on the ‘we’ as she gestured between herself and Rhysand. 

“You have to know we wouldn’t put you in this position if we had any other choice. I personally promised I would never leave you alone in that city again, and there is nothing our father can say or do to make me break that promise to you. We will do this together.”

Rhysand’s power had receded, but you could still feel it loitering like a watchdog. Something you’d never imagined Rhys doing to you before the meeting. He’d always spun such pretty promises about your future in Velaris, and you believed him.

And now Mor was doing the same exact thing. More pretty promises, but no proof of her intentions to follow through with them. 

Mor’s shoulders visibly sagged, “If you don’t believe me, then look.” She pleaded, offering her mind up for you to read.

You physically recoiled at her suggestion. “I will do no such thing!” You spat back in disgust, “You are my sister, this is supposed to be my family. I will not taint our relationship with my powers in a moment of weakness. You may not return the same respect, but I refuse to surround myself with people I can’t trust without rummaging around their mind for their truths first.”

Unlike some males went unsaid as you fumbled to tone it down for Mor. Your problem was not with her, and she didn’t deserve your harsh words. “I can’t…I won’t….I–”

Frustrated with yourself, you took a steadying breath, emotion burning behind your eyes. Despite your best effort to keep composed, your voice quivered, “I will not be like our father.”

The room was stunned silent, Mor regarded you with sadness, lips parting to respond, but then pursing closed in a tight line.

Rhysand was the one to break the silence. His power dispersed as he leaned back in his chair, acting like he hadn’t just wound you up tight enough to fracture you into pieces.

“So you accept the assignment then?” He inquired, brushing nonexistent lint from the cuff of his dress shirt.

His lack of remorse irked you. Did he not think he could have handled the situation better? Was this how he treated everyone in the Inner Circle? The list of things you wanted clarification on kept growing, so instead you settled on, “Yes.” 

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement then.” He drawled, “We will go over details and strategy another time, when we are all more composed.”

You wanted to punch him in his goddamn face.

“For now, this meeting is dismissed.”

As soon as he finished speaking you stormed out of his office, nearly colliding with Nesta in your haste to get away from Rhysand. Originally you were going to visit the library after the meeting. Nesta had suggested a book for you to read, and you wanted to read it so you had something to talk to her about. But you were too worked up to do that now, you needed to get out of there. 

You didn’t care where you ended up, so long as you put as much distance between you and Rhysand as possible.

XxXx

By step 174 your blurry vision cleared a smidge, too out of breath to cry for the moment. You didn’t have anyone to help you leave The House of Wind, so you took to the 10,000 stairs with the expectation of someone eventually coming to find you. There was no way in hell you’d actually be able to reach the bottom. You began the descent down the spiraling staircase so fast It was a marvel that you didn’t trip.

Any time you slowed down Rhysand’s words would play on loop in your head. The only way to drown it out was to pick up the pace, the exertion elevating your heart rate enough for it to overpower that nasty voice in the back of your head. If you ran fast enough the only thing you could concentrate on was counting the steps you took.

239 steps down, and you had no choice but to slow down to a more reasonable pace. It was a warm day, and you were getting dizzy. The last thing you wanted to do was pass out. In a desperate attempt to keep your mind occupied as you caught your breath you focused on the breeze cooling the sweat beading up on your forehead. You listened to the slap of your bare feet on the smooth, sun-warmed stone. You thought of the color of the sandals you left behind at the very top of the stairs. You pondered on which step you’d discarded your blouse on after it began to cling to your sweaty skin.

Your guess was step 148.

You hit the first landing platform at step 250, slowing to a walk as you panted, hands propped against your hips as you counted your next few steps. Woozy, you let your eyes fall closed for a moment, but the image of Kier sitting in his throne room beckoning you forward flashed across your mind. You flinched so hard you accidentally opened your eyes looking directly into the sun.

It felt like your head had a heartbeat of its own, vision blotching from the brightness. You didn’t know how your day could get any more bleak as you rapidly blinked the disorienting dots away. Glimpses of The Court of Nightmares throne room lurking behind every blink, Kier looked more like Rhysand each time you closed your eyes.

It made your stomach lurch, and you whimpered around a dry heave.

A particularly strong gust of wind ruffled through your hair, and you can almost hear Azriel’s voice reminding you to focus on your other senses. Your mind can lie to you, but it’s much harder for all your senses to be tricked at the same time.

The sunlight, the ever-present wind, the sound of birds, the smell of fresh air. Let nature ground you. 

It just wasn’t enough. You’d only paused for a few moments, but your chest began to feel too tight for your lungs, anxiety squeezing the air out of you before you could properly inhale it. Two months. Just two measly months to figure out what the hell you were going to say to Kier–to your mom, after you’d gone no contact for almost 3 years. Two months to not be petrified of somehow getting trapped down there again.

So you continued down the stairs, pushing yourself harder. 

251. 252. 253. Counting them like Azriel had taught you.

It had been after your first dinner with the Inner Circle at the House of Wind. Mor was a little too tipsy to winnow home safely, so the both of you decided it best to share a guest room. You were feeling antsy, Mor having fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The House of Wind was so different from Hewn City. Cozy and surprisingly casual in decor, but it was carved out of the side of a mountain. With the curtains drawn, in the dark quiet of the night, it almost felt like your bedroom in The Court of Nightmares.

You had thought a glass of water would do you some good, help you settle enough to get some rest. So you set out for the kitchen, taking care to walk quietly so as to not wake anyone. The hallway led to a flight of stairs, which brought you to more hallways that seemed to stretch on, and on, and on. The homey decor fell away, your balance wobbling with the sudden onset of vertigo. Closing your eyes didn’t help, dizzy and disoriented, everything felt like it was tipped on its axis. You couldn’t place where you were, where you were going, just that you were alone. Fear flooded your senses, and you swore you smelled the dank air of the streets of Hewn City like you were still there.

Azriel found you slumped against the wall on shaky legs, your pulse pounding so hard in your ears you couldn’t hear what he was saying to you. The touch of his rough hands on your bare arms was soothing enough to bring you back to yourself. You weren’t walking the streets of Hewn City. You weren’t alone. Azriel had you.

Each inhale had still felt like you were gulping in freezing cold water, your breath coming in irregular gasps. You thought you were going to die in that hallway, suffocating on fucking air.

Azriel took you to the training grounds on the rooftop of all places. You can still remember the brightness of the full moon that night as he coached you through breathing exercises. Then, coaxed you into walking laps with him around the perimeter of the huge training grounds. He counted each step aloud with you until you had calmed enough to tell him what the hell had happened.

And that was how you and the Shadowsinger bonded over Claustrophobia. An unfortunate thing to have in common, an even more unfortunate first thing to find you had in common.

In the moments after you’d come down from your panic attack you wanted to svirel up and fade away, so thoroughly embarrassed. But now, you thanked The Mother for sending Azriel to find you that night.

It was those same coping skills that led you to working out your anxiety after the meeting. 290 steps away from The House of Wind, and you were sure your legs were going to give out if you kept pushing yourself. You came to a slow stop, soles of both your feet planted on the same stair. Lulling your head back so your face was to the cloudless sky, you closed your eyes and pictured that moment with Azriel. Instead of Kier morphing into Rhysand, you saw Azriel walking laps with you around the moonlit training grounds.

You basked in the breeze against your face, your anger and fear still roiling in your stomach, but no longer all consuming. The relief was short lived, a concentrated pang of despair reared its ugly head, raw hurt so overwhelming it chased the warm memories with Azriel away. It made you so tired, so emotionally drained you felt it in the marrow of your bones. You wanted to just let go, collapse in a heap and never get up again.

Yet, by some stroke of willpower, you remained on your feet. You hadn’t warmed up before taking on the stairs, and you could already feel soreness settling into your muscles. Gingerly you sat yourself down on the steps, resting your elbows on your thighs as you rubbed your hands over your face, spreading fresh tears across the top of your cheeks.

If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here. Rhysand’s words burned the part of you that had always suspected as much. There was this nasty little voice that lived in the back of your head. It would mock you when you were too content in calling this place home.

You wondered if that voice would start to sound like Rhysand.

The thought broke your heart a little bit more. You wanted so badly to make him proud, to earn your place in the Inner Circle, prove that they hadn’t made a mistake taking you in. The worst part was that you thought you were doing good. Not that you’d believed yourself to be one of them, you were still so new, but you thought…you thought…

You don’t know what you fucking thought.

Curling into yourself, your knees tucked in close to your chest, you made yourself as small as possible. The full body trembling made your sobs shaky, your entire being wobbled from the weight of your failure, your naivety. This was what you got for wanting to do it the right way. You’d never built relationships without relying on your powers to sniff out their loyalty beforehand, never truly trusted on your own violation.

Your father always thought it was a stupid risk to take when you could know for sure. You thought it was an awfully lonely way to live, to never trust fully. Perhaps you’d been wrong.

This was what you get, you silly girl. Kier’s voice taunted from the back of your mind. Or was that Rhysand’s voice? Did the difference even matter anymore? 

The telltale sound of approaching footsteps closed in on you from behind, you couldn’t tell who it was, all you could smell was the salt of your own tears. Maybe it was one of them coming to take you out of your misery, maybe Rhysand took your display in his office as a sign of disloyalty.

The killing blow never came, so you glanced up to see Nesta taking a seat next to you. The last person you expected to come looking for you if you were being honest.

She didn’t look at you right away, which you appreciated. You were humiliated enough without her seeing you wiping your own snot on your forearm. Her icy stare was focused on the view, the only indication that she had run to catch up with you, a few fly away hairs having been jostled loose from her braids.

“You were pretty hard to catch up to, you know,” She leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands against the step behind her, “for someone who doesn’t regularly train, at least.”

Her attempt at humor, which earlier in the day would have made you indignant, fell flat. Instead inciting a new wave of tears to fall past your lash line. You dropped your head lower to hide it from her, but it did little to smother the sound of your quivering breath.

She didn’t try again, and her presence grew awkward when you didn’t try either, but she stayed next to you regardless.

When it became apparent that she would stay by your side unless you sent her away, you found your words. “What if I can’t do it,” You croaked out, voice absolutely wrecked, “Face my father, return underground? What if I can’t do what’s expected of me? What if it’s too much, too soon? What if I lose everything because I’m not strong enough.” Will never be strong enough.

“Then we will figure it out,” Nesta answered without hesitation, “Together.”

You are alone. That damned voice insisted.

“But Rhysand said–”

“I know what Rhysand said.” Nesta hissed, and you startled, your bloodshot eyes meeting hers for the first time since she arrived. She looked pissed, lips pursed in a scowl as if the High Lord was right in front of her. “Rhysand is an insensitive jackass. He won’t send you away because you messed up one job.”

“How can you know that?” You whispered, already knowing that she couldn’t know for sure. 

“Because I’ve pissed him off by doing far worse, and I’m still here.”

You shook your head at her reasoning, not good enough, she can’t know for sure. “You're his mate’s sister, and Cassian’s mate. He can’t exile you.”

“And you're The Morrigan’s sister, and his own cousin.” Nesta deadpanned. “You’re not going to get exiled over a visit to The Court of Nightmares.”

“How can you possibly know that?!” You shouted, one of your hands clutching the fabric of your sweat soaked chest binding as your heart ached. Frantic to believe her, but knowing that you just couldn’t.

“Because Rhysand hates me, we barely tolerate each other on good days. He once threatened to banish me to the human continent,” she rebuked, hands flying about as she grew impassioned, “He loves you. He’s just an overpowered ass on a power trip. You questioned his authority and it hurt his fragile little ego. And even if he was stupid enough to try to cast you out, the rest of the Inner Circle would never let that happen.”

Your nerves were fucking shot. Whatever remained of your bravado frayed with every hagrid breath, it was impossible to stay focused. It was like your powers were waiting for you to be distracted, taking the opportunity to thrash against your mental shields. You didn’t know if it was skill keeping your powers in check, or dumb luck.

Your headache spread across your temples, sharp pain panging behind your eyes. You were already so tired, but the tears would not stop coming. That damned voice, still whispering its poison, adding to the agony. Nesta can’t know for sure, but you could if you just gave in.

You looked Nesta over, her relaxed body language at odds with the determined fire in her eyes. She left herself wide open, she wouldn’t even know if you read her. You’d be in control, your fate wouldn’t be left up to a gamble.

Nesta tried to meet your gaze, and you squeezed your eyes shut, turning away from her. It was impossible for you to think with her piercing stare studying you. What reason did Nesta even have to care about what happened to you? She didn’t say shit while Rhysand was ripping your world apart, and yet she showed up here? To do what exactly?

There was a dull ringing in your ears as your power surged against your restraint, and maybe you screamed, maybe you didn’t. Your fingers went up into your hair, fisting at your roots as you pulled, rocking yourself back and forth because it would be so easy.

And maybe if you gave in, that stupid voice would stop.

Nesta called your name, “I wouldn’t let Rhysand kick you out of Velaris.”

The cry you let out sounded almost feral. “I don’t know that!” .

“No, you don’t,” Nesta acquiesced, “but do you trust me?”

Did you trust Nesta? The question cut you into you like the edge of a knife, your heart answering with a resounding yes.

Wow, did you want that to be true. But that sinister voice oozed like an oil slick in the back of your head. Will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today? You had trusted Rhysand too.

Even if Nesta wanted you here, did you think she would disobey her High Lord for you? You didn’t know, not for sure. Your power reared up again, and your head pounded at the onslaught. That oily voice so loud it was all you could hear. You could know.

“I-I don’t know.” You stammered, stomach churning into grotesque knots.

“Do you trust yourself?” Nesta continued her line of questioning.

That answer came to you quick, no, and it had you lurching forward, your balance lost as you scraped your knees sliding down a couple stairs. You wretched, violent heaves as your stomach emptied out on the stairs in front of you.

No. You didn’t trust yourself.

“There was a time where I didn’t trust myself either.” It was like you weren’t barfing up your guts right in front of her, Nesta spoke with such calm. “Didn’t let anyone close enough to trust, even myself, I didn’t know how.”

You wretched again, your hair getting in the way. Gentle fingers gathered the stray pieces that had fallen from your updo. You hadn’t heard her move over to you, but she was there, steadying you as you struggled through a bout of dry heaving. If you weren’t so miserable, the tenderness coming from Nesta would have shocked the hell out of you.

Her free hand rubbed soothing circles into your back as she continued her tale. “I hated myself,” Nesta confided, voice raspy with emotion, “so much that I drank myself stupid every night to escape the darkness of my own thoughts.”

Now, the random heart to heart did shock you.

Three years of trying to connect with the enigma that was Nesta Archeon. Three years of getting redirected when you asked something too deep. The most you got out of Nesta was what she liked to read, so you picked up reading just to have a reason to approach her outside of assignments. Three years of one sided heart to hearts, evaded personal questions, and turned down sleepover invitations.

And she decided that now was the proper time to trauma dump on you? While you were half dressed, ugly crying with vomit in your hair?

What a baffling female. The confusion helped you relax, so surprised you were by Nesta’s sudden urge to share. Her hand kept a slow, steady rhythm as she continued to rub gentle circles onto your back, you hadn’t realized how tensed you’d been until muscles you didn’t even know you had started going lax. 

Whatever Nesta was doing, it was working. So you basked in the comfort her touch provided and listened.

“Someone taught me how to acknowledge those thoughts and let them go. To breathe, and still everything else in my mind, and let my mind think those things, but to not dwell, because that dark self loathing didn’t define me.”

The dark self loathing didn’t define you. Her words chipped at something that had been left festering for far too long. Had that been it all along, that terrible voice in the back of your head, had it been self loathing?

“Give yourself permission to feel, acknowledge it, and let it go.”

And it was so liberating, giving a name to what had been festering under your skin. Hate. Disgust. Cowardice. You cried, but not the agonized, tortured type of wails that had crippled you moments ago. This was a release, the type of ugly cry you do when something you didn’t know was broken starts to heal.

You hated yourself. And that was okay, because as you waited for that awful voice to mock you, it never did. You hated yourself, wept so hard you thought your eyes were going to fall out of your skull, but you had never felt lighter.

Nesta found your hand, gentle at first as if giving you time to pull away. Then she held onto you like the simple touch could convey what you were worth to her. “You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you.” She whispered, but the words resonated like she had shouted them at you.

The smile started as a small twitch at the corners of your mouth, but you knew Nesta saw it all the same. You searched for that dreadful voice, waited for it to speak something dreadful, but the quip never came. The smile that bloomed on your cheeks was wide with astonish.

You couldn’t believe it, after 300+ years of letting that nasty voice ruin you, there was peace. In its place was something new and bright.

Hope.

XxXx

The sound of beating wings announced the arrival of Cassian and Azriel a moment before the weight of their landing sent vibrations through the hard stone of the staircase. The two hulking Illyrian warriors made quick work of the walk up the stairs, their casual conversation trailing off once they were within earshot of you and Nesta.

“Ness!” Cassian’s voice boomed in greeting, cheery and boisterous, “I see why you asked for me to bring Azriel now. Here I thought you were acting on your ‘secret’ fantasies finally. The location left something to be desired, but I wasn’t going to be picky.”

Nesta sat shoulder to shoulder with you, so close, you felt her stiffen at Cassian’s offbeat comment. If you weren’t so drained, you’d be cross with her for summoning more witnesses, but the idea of having to walk back up all those steps upset you far more. The adrenaline high from your anxiety had long worn off, and without its numbing effect, you weren’t sure if you could even stand without your legs wobbling.

Nesta sighed, deep and long suffering, but affectionate nonetheless. “Your inability to read the room will always astound me.”

“Good thing we’re outside, there is no–” Cassian’s breath hitched, now close enough to get a good look at your downcast expression, haggard appearance, and odd attire. You were careful to keep your emotions under control, unwilling to let anyone in the Inner Circle see you in such a vulnerable state. Years of cautious composer, wasted, all because of a meeting that lasted less than 30 minutes. You expected disapproval, your emotions had only been met with ridicule in the past, but the apparent emotions flying across Cassian’s face were anything but cold.

Worry. Guilt. Unease. Cassian’s emotions were so boldly displayed, you didn’t need your powers to disconcert them.

Cassian paused in his ascent as he looked you over for injury, but Azriel closed the distance in the time it took you to blind away the tingle of the latest round of tears. Their concern was almost palatable, and being shown that type of care felt too good to be real. 

These males had no reason to care so much, Nesta had no tangible reason to care so much. You were so… you, so replaceable and plain. You breathed through the thought, let it roll over you, maybe that was why they cared so much, because you are you. It had never occurred to you that you were someone worth caring for. Not when your own father never cared. Certainly not after Rhysand gave you the ultimatum to get useful or get out.

You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you. Nesta’s words repeated in your head, sending a zing of determination down your spine. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Azriel crouched down, his chest siphon reflecting the late afternoon sun. His questions made you feel queasy, but his presence soothed over you like a balm. This male simultaneously was the person you worried about disappointing most, and the person you felt most safe being vulnerable around.

Unlike with Nesta, you didn’t struggle with facing Azriel. He was inspecting the grime covered scrapes on your bare toes. “Where are your shoes?” He asked you, puzzled as he then took note of your sweat soaked bra, “and your shirt?”

A dark look passed over him, if his shadows could withstand the direct sunlight, you were sure they’d be writhing around you. He spoke your name like a whispered prayer, desperate. His gloved hands hesitated as he reached out to cup your face, only smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks when you didn’t jerk away, “please look at me,” and you did, meeting his amber eyes as he wiped remnant tear stains from your cheeks, “Did someone try to hurt you?”

You knew what he meant, but your explanation caught in your throat. A brief moment of shame overwhelmed you, because here you were blubbering over some harsh words from your High Lord, when people suffered far worse fates than your own every day. Azriel began to tense, an icy cold rage taking form as he mistook your silence as an affirmative.

You shook your head ‘no’, hating the troubling turmoil you had unintentionally sowed in him. His shoulders sagged, the sign of his relief so slight, many would have missed it. It was all it took for the remaining threads of your thin composure to snap.

Azriel all but scooped you into his arms as tears blurred your vision, and you crumbled into him, no further prompting needed. He held you so tight, it was like he was trying to hold all your pieces together for you. His wings flared to keep his balance, and maybe later you’d feel sheepish about almost tipping him backwards down those unforgiving stairs, but you relished in the comfort his strength brought you.

“I-I was–It was–” You couldn’t string the sentence together, “We were…I was–” you tried again but your breathing was off, your thoughts all jumbled, and Blessed Mother, you couldn’t do it again. Any words you’d thought about trying to say morphed into sobs, barely audible, but you couldn’t hide the way your body shook with them.

“Rhysand happened.” Nesta asserted, sparing what was left of your dignity by cutting off your senseless stuttering. She summarized the meeting, but touched on the major points that had triggered your anxiety. She was gentle with the recollection of your part in the meeting, scathingly critical of Rhysand. 

“When I left Rhysand’s office, The Morrigan was getting in his face, and as much as I would have loved to see how that went down, it felt wrong to not check in with you.” Nesta explained like she was coming clean, “ I asked the house where you were.”

It was about as close to an apology you’d ever get from Nesta. You knew from experience that Nesta took her time warming to people, preferring to mind her business and stay out of Inner Circle drama. Once she’d made an offhand comment about being the center of the drama enough to last her the rest of her fae lifetime.

Keeping your head rested on Azriel’s shoulder, you turned your face to the side so your voice was less muffled, “Thank you,” your words carried on the wind, paper thin, frail, but so heartfelt, “for following me.”

Nesta didn’t respond, and you didn’t dare look at her out of fear of getting weepy again. But you felt it all the same, a shift in the relationship between the two of you. Like a bridge branching out, a new understanding solidified in place, and you knew Nesta had felt it too.

You shifted in Azriel’s arms, intending on testing your strength, but his arms tensed to keep you in place. In one graceful movement that had your head spinning, Azriel stood up right, adjusting to support your weight in a bridal hold.

“How about we get you home and clean you up?” Azriel suggested, loud enough for the others to hear, but the question aimed at you.

Home. As in the apartment you shared with Mor. He had called Velaris your home.

Your heart gave a painful throb, all choked up again at the sentiment. Going home sounded like the most splendid thing in the whole world in that moment. You didn’t want to think about Rhysand or Hewn City anymore, you wanted to go home so much it hurt.

There was some rustling, Cassian coming to stand near Nesta. “Wanna race me back up to the house?” His words were muffled as if his lips were pressed into the crown of Nesta’s head. “Winner gets head.”

The swift resounding slap Cassian received almost made things seem normal.

“Are you two good?” Nesta ignored Cassian’s taunting, and you nodded at the same time Azriel responded with, “Yes, I’ve got her.”

A beat passed in silence, all four of you waiting to see if anyone added anything else. Then rapid footsteps took off up the stairs, and you popped your head up from the crook near Azriel’s underarm to see Nesta sprinting up the stairs.

“Hey!” Cassian bellowed, charging after her, “cheaters never prosper, Nesta!”

“Prove it, you overgrown bat!”

If you weren’t about ready to pass out from exhaustion, you would have laughed at their antics. Azriel was watching them, an unguarded fondness in his hazel eyes you rarely got to see. The two of you stayed like that, Azriel watching his friends, you committing his soft expression to memory. By the time Azriel glanced down to you, Cassian had overtaken Nesta’s lead, their figures dots in the distance.

You were a melted puddle of female in his arms, all tension and stress slipping from your muscles as your eyelids drooped. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your eyes open for another second. Paranoia nagged at you, fear of what you’d see when you finally rested your eyes.

Nothing. Blissful darkness. Peace.

“I’m going to take off now. Loop your arms around my neck and hold on tight, okay? Once we get up high enough, the rest of the flight will be smooth.”

You did as you were told, any other time you would have been a nervous wreck, but you didn’t have it in you to fret. You’d always winnowed with someone, even learning how to land the drop through the wards when Mor winnowed with you to the House of Wind. You’d thought no one had noticed how you avoided the topic, but surprise surprise, Azriel had noticed.

The thought of being up that high in the sky and dropped sure made your pulse spike. Growing up in an Underground City meant your feet were always planted on the ground. So maybe it wasn’t a stretch to claim that you weren’t a fan of heights, you’d never flown with anyone before, but it would make a lot of damn sense.

Your musing was cut short. Azriel launched straight up into the sky, powerful wings effortlessly gaining momentum and speed. You clung to him, hands clasped together around his neck in a death grip, screaming bloody murder the entire ascend. Although you would deny it if anyone asked.

Things evened out once Azriel felt he was high enough, setting a leisure pace towards what you assumed to be the direction of Mor’s apartment. Your eyes were squeezed shut, wind whipping your hair out of what was left of your updo, tossing it across your face.

You must have been quite the sight, if the amusement in Azriel’s voice was any indication. “Are you going to look at the view?”

Your hair was a disheveled mess across your face, the wind burned your already sore eyes when you tried to pry them open. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t keep my eyes open,” It was probably beautiful, but you didn’t want to push your luck, you’d had enough panic attacks for the day, “Luckily, I don’t want to.”

He chuckled. “Next time then.”

Blame it on the fatigue, but you found yourself nodding in agreement. Something you may come to regret when he urges you to fly with him instead of winnowing the next time you travel together.

But maybe it won’t be so bad, if Azriel was the one carrying you. With your eyes closed, ear pressed to his chest, his steady heartbeat lulled the residual tension and anxiety away until all you felt was the security of his arms. You could almost forget that you were hundreds of feet off the ground.

In Azriel’s care, it was easy to relax, he wouldn’t let anything bad happen. It was in that half dozing state, snuggled up as close as you could get to him, that your sleepy mind realized moments like these were the ones you wanted to remember.

Ultimately, Rhysand’s nasty words were a small part of your day. The majority of your time was spent with Nesta, bonding with her in a way you’d never managed previously. Something that would have never happened if Rhysand hadn’t been a dick.

Yeah. You’d much rather remember the day as the Nesta heart-to-heart incident. Or the first time you flew with Azriel.

Drifting into a deeper sleep, you dreamt of the way Cassian’s laughter echoed with joy as he chased after Nesta up the stairs. You dreamt of soaring through the clouds with Azriel, the same fondness you’d seen in his eyes for Cassian and Nesta, but aimed at you.

It may take you the rest of your life, but you would replace all the trauma muddying up your memories with new memories you wanted to remember. New memories filled with laughter, affection, trust, and adventure.

One day at a time. 

Rhysand could go pound sand though.

XxXx

Previous Chapter / Bonus: Chapter 2.5 / Next Chapter (coming soon)

A/N: Don't worry the next part is going to be more like the first chapter. There will be like two more chapters sprinkled in that have a more serious tone, but the rest will be fluff, drama, and tomfoolery a plenty. Stay tuned for cheeky Cassian in the next update!!

Tag List: @f4iry-bell @jediknightjana @microwaveallthedemons @olive-main

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @5onedirection5

@brieflyclassymortal @hauntedstudentobservationus

[celtrist]

Hazbin & Helluva Vs. Aromanticism

(Aka: I have a problem with the Spindlehorse team about this, not shippers.)

(Also this is mainly about Alastor but can go for Octavia and Mammon too.)

Alright, so I've cleaned up this uh... rant, to make things a little more clear hopefully. But to summarize here, this is about the team's lack of commitment when every other character is allowed full confirmation of their orientations but these (potentially) aromantic characters aren't.

While I have no beef with shippers (I think you can ship whoever with whoever you want, I ship Alastor too on occasion), there is some conversation about how the fandom might be a bit of a reason WHY they "can't" be confirmed as aro. But again, my main problem is more with the showrunners than the fandom at this point about this.

I'll also be getting into why it's "important" and the double standards against characters being aromantic.

This is not an attack, ship however way you wish (again, I do it myself). My intent isn't really to stop the shipping, that would be ridiculous. But more so to give my thoughts on why it's BS characters like Alastor can't be confirmed as aromantic when other characters are allowed confirmed orientations.

I will start off by saying I don't mind the shipping of Alastor. While it's NOBODY'S business but mine, I suppose it's important to clarify that I'm someone who does currently identify as aroace. I might be wrong but who cares, it's how I think of myself now at least to some degree (I do after all still have fictional crushes. Real-life romance is not an interest for me though, don't like 'em).

I'm gonna get what I don't think people talk about enough on both sides of being for and against shipping Alastor, and then I'll talk about the shippers as they're (I realized) not my main issue at this point.

A little history: So Alastor has been long time confirmed as an ace character. He hasn't been confirmed as being sex-repulsed or anything, but I can personally say I don't mind either flavor of him being repulsed or favorable (though I imagine the series will lean towards the former to counter everyone else's sex-favorable attitude and for jokes). This statement was initially taken VERY poorly by fans who, at the time, were shipping radiodust and radiobelle/charlastor, one more than the other. Care to take a guess which? The answer will not surprise you.

But then people realized "Oh, asexual doesn't mean he COULDN'T get with someone" and people even went further to "Being asexual doesn't mean he CAN'T have sex", both very true statements. So shipping was back on the menus boys! And his asexual was certainly blurred a bit (to the point where it wasn't even him being sex-favorable asexual as much as just not asexual, something that still happens but certainly not as bad). But overall, people were taking his canonicity as asexual with as much grace as a duck.

So here's where MY problem comes in. While I have some gripes with shippers, I had an epiphany that "Oh. It's not really the shippers I have a problem with. It's the people WRITING THE DAMN CHARACTER". Which, might I just say, is so much worst.

The shippers, while they got annoying at some points and certainly can be still, are just having fun. Because shipping just happens to be the way most people like to interact with characters in the media they're into. Hell, I am no different. I just have the misfortune of only really getting into rarepairs most of the time (curse you my bizarre tastes). I've even shipped with Alastor, I like AngelicSmile/radiojoy quite a bit.

Back on track. Now, what do I mean by my main problem being with the writers more than the fans with this? Well, queue this darling of a clip about the topic (this is the only clip I've found of the live stream, feel free to watch the whole video but just wanted the clip here).

This. Single. Clip. Infuriates me.

Vivzi, while I'm sure not meant to, pretty much implied "Alastor being aromantic and 'non-shippable' would ruin people's fun". I'm sure she meant it as a way to keep others from policing shippers (which didn't work, it still happens), it really just reads as "a character being aromantic is not a fun character". Like there's something wrong with being aro.

Not to mention some other things that would contradict this statement:

Viv in the past said "fans are allowed to ship outside character orientations", so... what makes that so different here with confirming Alastor as aromantic?

It being confirmed is not relevant to the plot. Great, so is every other orientation not relevant. Why can't Alastor be confirmed as aromantic but Vaggie can be confirmed as a lesbian or Vox bi? What does Vox being bisexual have to do with the plot? Neither is relevant to the plot, but one can be confirmed but not the other?

People were gonna ship him ANYWAY. Like, there's really no point in pretending. They were going to anyway because of the first point I already mentioned, but also people ship against canon orientations ALL THE TIME. It's just gonna happen and there's nothing wrong with that in of itself.

You've kind of just implied it's canon by not wanting to say specifically him being aromantic is canon or not. If Viv had just said "I don't wanna confirm his romantic orientation because...", then this statement would be fine and fair I suppose. But she had to call out him being aromantic specifically. And I mean, he COULD be something else (he was slated to be a couple with Mimzy originally after all), but the context doesn't seem like that would be the case. Plus, would she really feel the need to hold back from saying "Alastor is homoromantic" or biromantic or heteroroman- actually yes for that last one probably.

So riddle me this, with these points, why the FUCK would it be so wrong to confirm Alastor as a canonically aromantic icon and help get MORE REP for this very very very VERY underrepresented orientation? And I've thought of a few reasons to this, one of which being to avoid the same backlash that they got for Alastor being ace. Which, DID HAPPEN WHEN THE VOICE ACTOR AND SOMEONE ELSE ON THE SHOW CONFIRMED ALASTOR AS AROMANTIC BUT BACKTRACKED ON THE STATEMENT.

To which, fine. THAT'S on the fans (especially as no one would've complained if he was confirmed as homoromantic, which is a double standard VERY PRESENT in this fandom, but also many others quite honestly). But I can see another reason is to avoid others policing shippers about it.

Which, if that's the case, shit luck it's happening anyway.

To cower away from this orientation because of fans being upset says a lot, both about the fans and the creators. There is a whisper of "Alastor isn't allowed to be aromantic". That "being aro isn't allowed or appreciated".

We live in a world that at this point has a lot more lgbtq+ characters than ever before. At this point, there's just a lot of gay/lesbian and bi characters, and that's wonderful. But, there's barely a handful of aroace characters. And when they are, nobody wants to pay attention to that part of the character. So why can't the deer man be aromantic? I would imagine it would honestly make things a little better ship wise because ship wars wouldn't occur seeing as, well, there's no ship to be fought for. None of them could be canon.

So you might see where I'm leading into this, but I can only really think of one real reason Alastor being aromantic just "can't be confirmed" where as everyone else's orientations can be.

His popularity. Like, that's weird but walk with me here. Alastor is the most popular character in the fandom. There's honestly no denying it, he just is. And what do people do with the most popular character?

THEY SHIP THEM OFF IN A LOVEBOAT.

But wait, if he's aromantic, he can't be on a love boat. THIS IS BS-

And then... the outcry. And we HAVE seen this happen. I mentioned before, he was stated to be aromantic on two occasions by two people who work on the show, one of which is his voice actor (which I'll be fair, I personally don't think VAs always know the characters they play the best, that's the writers). But they had to backpedal because people DID complain. People WERE upset. So it's kind of shown just aromantism isn't really welcomed, at the very least not for a character like Alastor.

And that's the key: "Not for a character like Alastor". But if it were say, Niffty or Mimzy who are either overlooked or just not very popular, THEN it's probably more than okay for a character to be aromantic. Because no one wants to ship with them much, so they can be aromantic all they want.

AKA. The aro community is allowed the scraps but not the dinner.

At this point, you've probably noticed I switched gears from the creators to the fans because I DO think they could be a reason why Alastor "can't" be confirmed as Aromantic. I'll give credit, I'm pretty sure it's mainly on twitter and wouldn't be surprised if it was a "loud minority" thing going on, but the people have spoken. They vehemently cannot STAND the idea of Alastor being aromantic.

But I don't have a problem with these people quite honestly- I mean I kinda do, but my main issue is the lack of commitment when the other characters are allowed confirmed orientations. Why can't aromantic people get confirmed rep? Because "it'll ruin people's fun?" That's such a crappy reason because it's just saying being aro is bad on some level or isn't okay. Why can't the aromantic community get the dinner this ONE TIME? It's one character in a pool of many others that are canonically gay or bi, so why can't the aro community have this ONE popular character?

I'm not even asking for people to stop shipping him, I think that's perfectly FINE. It wouldn't change the canon. I'd appreciate more LOVE given to the aromantic identity (and I'm talking about the far end of it, so absolutely NO interest in romance as many have used aro Alastor but it still comes off as just normal shipping, but that's just me). There's such a double standard to the treatment of aromantic characters to the other characters in these shows (because Octavia and Mammon are in the same boat here), and the reasons given are so crappy that they sound more like off-hand excuses.

Again, I don't MIND people shipping Alastor, or Octavia, or Mammon who is randomly shipped with Adam the most. Let me repeat:

YOU. ARE. ALLOWED. TO. SHIP. THESE. CHARACTER.

But what I have a problem with is that these characters aren't allowed to be OFFICIALLY aromantic. How would it feel if this was a gay character? That they didn't want to confirm it but there's been indications with past statements and even in-universe stuff indicating so? I WANT Viv and her team to STICK with what route they were gonna go with.

And some might argue "what's so bad with nothing being confirmed?" Other than the fact every other character's orientations are allowed confirmation and Viv's crappy way of putting it in not confirming anything. There's, by all technicalities, nothing wrong.

However, if I may pose a counter, why is it fair for people to demand or ask for gay representation or confirmation but not aromantic? Because it's "not ruining anything"? If that's the case, I'm inclined to say that may be a bit aphobic. Because how is it that a character being aromantic can "ruin" the character or something, but a character being gay DOESN'T "ruin" the character. It's a double standard that I don't think most people realize or want to say because you don't want to be dissing on gay stuff.

But WAKE UP SHEEPLE. The gay stuff has PLENTY of things by this point. Whether through fan works or official media, it is growing and it is growing rapidly. And we should be HAPPY about that. But alternatively, Aromantic (and asexual) rep BARELY gets any attention in either fan works or official media. People would be UPSET if a ship like Angel Dust X Vaggie or Stolas X Verosika got into one of the top most popular ships. But Alastor? Nah, it's fine.

Again, while I don't mind the shipping itself, hopefully, you can understand how it might feel to see one of the most popular ships involve a character that goes against their orientation and it's YOUR orientation. It doesn't. Feel. Great.

And not everyone who ships Alastor even would LIKE him to end up with who they ship. Some people just like it staying in fanon. I have met SO MANY nice people who ship Alastor with characters that I personally don't really like him shipped with. But it's clear that I don't think THEY'D mind if he was confirmed aromantic because it doesn't change their life. They'll still keep shipping him because that's fun for them and that's FINE. People explore themselves through characters with confirmed orientations and they don't always line up with canon, and that's FINE. I don't think people should be policed on shipping with the deer man, they're just having fun. Would I appreciate a little more love for the aro identity? Sure (I mean just look at Alastor's ship weeks activeness vs. his aro week activeness), but if that's not how people have fun they shouldn't be forced to do stuff with it.

But Alastor being seemingly "not allowed" to be confirmed as aro has set a precedent that there's something wrong with being aromantic. And personally, it makes me feel a tad unwelcomed sometimes.

It's the precedents. Again, why is every other character's orientation allowed to be confirmed but Alastor's isn't? What is so wrong with him being aromantic? Hell, he might not even BE aromantic. But at least I'd KNOW instead of floundering around hoping upon a star for some aromantic representation.

It's okay to be gay but- WHOA HOLD YOUR HORSES THERE. WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO PUT A PAUSE IN THAT ARO BUSINESS YOU GOT THERE.

A character's worth is in how shippable they are. And if they're aromantic, they're not shippable. And unfortunately, there are just enough people to throw a hissy fit about it that Viv doesn't want to confirm it.

Because apparently being aromantic would "ruin" things.

[lxvsiick]

ONE DAY WITH HER | PARK JONGSEONG

PAIRING: rich boy! park jongseong x rich girl! fem! reader 

SUMMARY: Y/n thought she had everything, a happy family, money, fame. But after what had happened with between her parents, she didn't know if she could trust a men anymore -- Jay plans to change that though.

GENRE: fwb! Implied, best friends, imagine

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking, smoking, physical attack, a little suggestive-ish

WORDCOUNT: 2.8k

A/N: Inspired by HER by CHASE ATLANTIC ,, i 🫶🏼 chase atlantic

✨⋆｡°✩

The soft chime of the Chanel store door welcomed them in as Y/n immediately took the lead, her eyes lighting up at the rows of designer clothes and luxury handbags. She grabbed Jay's hand, pulling him along with her as she darted from one display to the next.

“Look at this one!” she exclaimed, holding up a sleek leather handbag. Without a second thought, she passed it to Jay, who caught it effortlessly, adding it to the growing pile of items already in his hands.

He followed her in silence, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched her flit around like a kid in a candy store. “You’re seriously buying another bag?” he teased. “Didn’t you just get two last week?”

Y/n waved him off with a grin, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and trying them on in front of the mirror. “Last week’s are old news. Plus, these are limited edition,” she said, inspecting the frames before turning back to him with a playful look. “And what else am I supposed to do? Not shop?”

Jay shook his head, smiling as he held up a pastel pink blazer she had eyed earlier. “This one suits you. Matches your over-the-top shopping habits.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking as she looked at it. “Okay, you might be onto something,” she agreed, taking the blazer and tossing it onto his growing pile of designer goods. As they moved through the store, the two exchanged playful banter, making light of their opulent lifestyle.

“So, remember the first time we met?” Y/n asked suddenly, running her fingers along a row of silky dresses.

Jay glanced at her, pretending to think hard. “At my dad’s company? Yeah, you were like, what, six?”

“Six and already better dressed than you,” she quipped, shooting him a teasing grin.

“I was a kid!” he protested, laughing. “But I distinctly remember you eyeing my shoes and asking me if I actually knew what designer they were.”

“I was right to question you! Those were last season’s,” she joked, her eyes twinkling as she picked up a sleek black dress and held it up to her body. “What do you think? Too much?”

Jay gave her a once-over, raising his eyebrows approvingly. “Too much? Please, nothing’s ever ‘too much’ for you.”

She flashed him a bright smile before heading toward the register with the dress and her other selections. As the cashier began scanning the items, Y/n reached into her designer handbag and pulled out her sleek cardholder.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jay said, sliding his black card across the counter before she could react.

She stared at him, blinking in surprise. “Excuse me? I was going to pay.”

“And I just did,” he replied smoothly, slipping his hands into his pockets, watching as the cashier processed the payment.

Her eyes narrowed, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You can’t always pay for me, you know.”

“Oh, but I can. And I will,” he said with a smug smile, picking up the glossy shopping bags once they were handed over.

Y/n crossed her arms, playfully pouting. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I try,” he replied with a wink, handing her the bags as they left the store. “Besides, you still owe me for making me carry all of this.”

She rolled her eyes, though her smile never faded. “Fine, you win. But next time, it’s on me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jay said, draping his arm over her shoulders as they strolled down the luxurious shopping avenue, the weight of their high-society lives feeling surprisingly light in each other’s company.

✨⋆｡°✩

At six years old, Y/n was already used to big offices, tall buildings, and the quiet murmur of business meetings. She tagged along with her parents to Jay's father’s company, her tiny hand wrapped in the gloved one of her family’s butler as they roamed the spacious halls. Her parents were tucked away in a long meeting with executives, leaving her with free reign to explore.

As they passed by a polished glass door, Y/n paused, her sharp eyes catching sight of another kid—someone her own age, which was rare in these stuffy places. The boy was sitting in the lounge, playing with building blocks while a maid patiently handed him pieces. His messy dark hair fell over his eyes, and he wore a pair of shoes that caught her attention—shoes she recognized immediately.

She let go of her butler’s hand, curiosity sparking, and marched straight into the lounge, her tiny shoes clicking on the marble floor. The boy looked up from his blocks, blinking at her in surprise as she stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong with your outfit?” Y/n asked bluntly, her eyes narrowing as she scanned his little suit. Her gaze stopped at his shoes, and she tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even know what designer those shoes are?”

Jay, caught off guard by the sudden question, looked down at his shoes—simple black loafers. “Uh… shoes?” he answered, completely clueless.

The maid tried to stifle a giggle, but Y/n didn’t seem amused. She let out a tiny sigh, shaking her head as if disappointed.

“Those are from last season,” she declared, pointing at his shoes with all the authority of a six-year-old who took her fashion cues from her stylish mother. “You can’t wear last season’s shoes! And that tie doesn’t even match,” she added, tugging at the crooked blue tie that clashed with his checkered shirt.

Jay blinked at her, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “What’s wrong with my tie?”

“Everything,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s okay, though. I’ll help you. I promise,” she added, holding out her pinky finger in the most serious pinky promise of her short life. “I’ll make sure you don’t dress like this when we grow up.”

He stared at her outstretched finger for a moment, then, with a small grin, hooked his pinky around hers. “Okay, deal.”

They stood there, pinky fingers linked, until she pulled back with a satisfied smile. “I’m Y/n,” she said proudly, as though she were royalty.

“I’m Jay,” he replied, still looking a bit dazed by the whirlwind that had just entered his quiet playtime.

From that day on, their lives were bound together by that simple promise—one born from a mismatched outfit and an instant connection. That day, in the gleaming office lounge, they didn’t just become friends. They became best friends.

✨⋆｡°✩

The house was eerily quiet when Y/n and her mother walked through the front door that night, returning from what was supposed to be a routine evening out. But something was wrong. There were signs��her father’s jacket was tossed over the couch, the faint sound of voices coming from upstairs. Her mother’s face tightened in suspicion, her eyes narrowing.

Without a word, her mother headed toward the master bedroom, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. Y/n followed closely, a pit forming in her stomach.

As they reached the bedroom, her mother pushed open the door, revealing a sight that made Y/n’s heart drop. Her father, tangled in the sheets with her mother’s secretary.

Her mother’s gasp echoed through the room. "You bastard," she whispered, voice trembling with fury. Without hesitation, she turned to the secretary. "You're fired. Pack your things and get out."

The secretary scrambled out of bed, her face pale, grabbing her clothes in a rush. But Y/n’s father didn’t move. Instead, he stood, unapologetic and defiant, pulling on his shirt with an air of arrogance.

“I want a divorce,” her mother declared, voice cold and steely. “And I’ll make sure you don’t get a single penny.”

¡! TRIGGER WARNING ¡!

That’s when everything erupted. A furious argument broke out, voices rising in the air like thunder. Her father stepped closer, shouting insults, blaming her mother for everything. The room was filled with anger, accusations, and heartbreak.

And then, it got worse.

Her father lunged, hands raised, his rage spilling over. Before Y/n could fully process it, he hit her mother—hard. The sound of the slap reverberated in the air, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

Without thinking, Y/n jumped between them. “Stop it!” she screamed, her body trembling with fear and adrenaline.

But her father, blind with rage, shoved her aside. Her mother staggered backward, hitting her head against the corner of a dresser, collapsing to the floor. Y/n felt the sting of a hit across her face as she tried to shield her mother, and in the chaos, her father made a run for it, bolting out of the house.

Her hands were shaking as she dialed for help, her mind racing. “Please, come quickly,” she cried into the phone. “My mom—she’s hurt. Please hurry.”

The next few hours were a blur. Paramedics came, and her mother was rushed to the hospital. Y/n sat in the cold waiting room, the sterile smell of the hospital making her feel nauseous. Her grandparents arrived shortly after, their faces etched with worry. Her mother was in surgery, and the minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity.

Then, Jay arrived, with his parents not far behind. As soon as Y/n saw him, her resolve broke. She had been holding herself together, trying to be strong for her mother, but the moment he walked toward her, all the emotions she had been bottling up came crashing down.

Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as her body shook with silent sobs. His warmth, his familiar presence, was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I can’t be here,” she whispered into his chest, her voice thick with emotion. “Take me away, please.”

He nodded, understanding without needing further explanation. Taking her hand, he led her outside to his car. They drove in silence, the city lights blurring as they headed toward their spot—the cliff overlooking the city, where they’d always go to escape the world.

They parked, the cool night air sweeping through the open windows. Jay climbed onto the hood of the car, patting the spot next to him. She joined him, her body still tense from the events of the night.

Reaching into his pocket, Jay pulled out a blunt and lit it, taking a long drag before offering it to her. She took it, inhaling deeply, feeling the smoke fill her lungs and numb the edges of her pain.

“I don’t want to feel anything right now,” she murmured, staring out at the city lights twinkling below them. Her voice was hollow, distant.

He didn’t say anything, just sat beside her, a silent support. The high from the weed began to settle over her like a blanket, dulling the sharpness of her emotions. But it didn’t take away the weight in her chest.

After a while, she turned to look at him. His face was close, his eyes reflecting the same pain, the same helplessness she felt. She leaned in slightly, her breath hitching as the space between them seemed to shrink. Their foreheads touched, and her pulse quickened as their lips hovered, inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with tension.

She hesitated for only a second before giving him a small, almost imperceptible nod. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, slow kiss. The kiss deepened, driven by the swirling emotions of the night—grief, anger, frustration, and a desperate need for comfort. It wasn’t just about physical closeness; it was about escaping everything, even if just for a moment.

The world faded around them, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other.

✨⋆｡°✩

The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows as Y/n descended the spiral staircase of her giant penthouse. The cool, sleek marble beneath her feet contrasted with the warmth of the dimmed lights and the subtle scent of her mother’s favorite tea.

Her mother, seated elegantly on the plush couch in the living room, sipped from a porcelain cup while reading a novel. As Y/n passed her, heading for the door, her mother glanced up, sharp eyes following her daughter's every move.

“Tell Jay I said hello,” her mother called out casually, not lifting her gaze from the book again.

Without slowing her stride, Y/n tossed a quick "Okay, Mom" over her shoulder and continued out the door. She didn’t need to explain where she was going. They both knew.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped into the glossy lobby, offering a polite smile to the receptionist. “Good evening,” she greeted softly, moving toward the entrance where the doorman tipped his hat to her as she passed.

Stepping outside, the cool night air kissed her skin as she spotted Jay, waiting for her by his motorcycle, his usual laid-back grin already in place. His six friends lounged nearby, leaning on their motorcycles or expensive sports cars, the engines occasionally rumbling in the quiet night.

He handed her a helmet without a word, and she took it with a smirk, securing it over her head. “By the way,” she said as she mounted the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, “my mom says hi.”

Jay let out a low chuckle. “She’s always been a fan,” he teased, glancing back at her before starting the bike. With a roar, the engine came to life, and soon they were speeding down the streets, his friends following closely behind, the city lights blurring into streaks around them.

They arrived at the party deep in the woods, the pounding bass of the music echoing through the trees. People were already scattered around—dancing, drinking, laughing as the night stretched on. The bonfire flickered, casting golden shadows across the crowd, and the air smelled of smoke and freedom.

Jay parked his motorcycle near the fire, and they both leaned against it, drinks in hand, watching their friends let loose under the night sky. The cool bottle felt good against her fingers, the steady thump of the music a constant rhythm in the background.

He wrapped a casual arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer, and she leaned into him without thinking. It was natural, the way they fit together like this, in moments like these where the line between friendship and something more blurred. But tonight, there was a different energy in the air.

“You ever think about us?” he asked, his voice quiet but clear over the music.

Y/n blinked, turning her head to look up at him. His face was serious now, the playful smirk from earlier gone. “About what?” she asked, even though she knew exactly what he meant.

“You know,” he continued, his thumb brushing lightly against her waist. “What we are...and if we could be more.”

Her heart tightened in her chest, a flood of emotions swirling. They’d been in this friends-with-benefits arrangement for a while now, and she liked it—no, loved it. But there was a part of her that was scared. Scared of what could happen if they crossed that line. She had seen firsthand what love could do. She had seen how her parents' relationship had shattered, leaving nothing but bitterness and hurt behind.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked away, her gaze settling on the fire in the distance. “After everything that happened with my parents...I don’t want to end up like them.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, a sign of his frustration, but also his understanding. “I’m not your dad,” he said firmly, leaning closer to make sure she understood. “I would never be like him.”

She swallowed hard, her emotions in a tangle. She loved him—at least, she thought she did. More than just a best friend, and maybe more than just this casual thing they had. But the fear of losing him completely if it all went wrong held her back.

Seeing her hesitation, Jay offered a small smile, his usual confidence tinged with softness. “Give me one day,” he said, his tone light but serious. “One day to show you I’m different. That we could be different.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, the tension between them dissipating as he grinned at her response. “One day,” she agreed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

He finished his drink and stood, offering his hand to her. “Now, let’s dance.”

Rolling her eyes, she took his hand, letting him pull her into the crowd. The beat of the music thudded beneath their feet, and for now, just for tonight, she let herself forget the fear. Let herself be with him, in this moment, without worrying about tomorrow.

They danced together under the moonlight, their bodies moving in sync, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air between them.

✨⋆｡°✩

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[astonmartinii]

first impressions matter | george russell social media au

pairing: georgerussell x reader

george is meeting y/n's dad for the first time and all hell breaks loose

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, mickschumacher and 31,634 others

yourusername: pops finally had the time off from his busy busy life to visit his one daughter (he was only in a good mood cause verstappen won)

view all comments

username wait ur telling me george's gf is a max fan

yourusername i am a george fan first and foremost but my dad is staunchly orange army... it's a point of contention

georgerussell63 can't wait to see you guys soon!

yourusername i miss you baby i'll be back in a couple days

username WAIT george hasn't met papa y/ln yet?

landonorris he's too scared

georgerussell63 wrong !! falsehoods !! he's a busy and important man

alexalbon you had your blood pressure tested after talking to him on the phone ...

f1

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 501,761 others

tagged: georgerussell63, maxverstappen1

f1: these two line up 1 and 2 in baku, who do you think comes out on top in the first corner?

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username wait isn't y/n's dad here this weekend? george better back off if he wants to live

landonorris i just sit back and observe

alexalbon i got $20 on george getting dumped this weekend

danielricciardo yeah i back this

username y'all see george's face when he realised he'll actually have to not hit someone ?

yourusername i have faith, proud of you georgie

georgerussell63 thank you !! finally someone believes in me in this comment section

yourusername any bullshit with max and my dad said he'll disown you before you can even join the family

maxverstappen1 i just watched him fall to his knees (say hi to your dad for me)

f1teaspill

liked by 12,566 others

f1teaspill: it all went off after the sprint when george russell and max verstappen came together, do you think george was being a "dickhead"?

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username get me a netflix camera in the y/ln household stat

username i was sat in the same grandstand as y/n's dad and that man actually nearly fainted

username i can't be the only one thinking that you guys are all just being a bit dramatic like people can separate sport from their own personal lives

username was george in the wrong? who the fuck cares i love the drama

username you guys know y/n wouldn't joke about the situation if it was really that deep

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, lewishamilton and 41,778 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: favourite boys in the whole wide world

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username i hate the way any joke in this sport immediately has to become an attack y'all hate fun

georgerussell63 was a pleasure to finally meet the man, the myth and the legend

yourusername welcome to the family georgie xx

username this is so so cute y/n is so lucky !!

alexalbon get in there russell always knew you could do it

georgerussell63 you literally asked me for my car collection in my will before i left for dinner

alexalbon is the offer still open?

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 712,458 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: i think i finally passed the family initiation

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username now see why did y'all try to ruin this, this is cute as shit

username peep the signed max pic in the back though orange army stay winning

yourusername the pasta won him over i think

georgerussell63 i think it was much more than that

username now what does this mean....

username they know something we don't and i don't like it

yourusername

liked by f1, maxverstappen1 and 101,564 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: now we've all finally gotten round to meeting we can officially announce that the russell-y/ln family is about to get just a little bit bigger x

view all comments

username OMG DAD!GEORGE INCOMING

landonorris congrats you two

maxverstappen1 congratulations !!

username i cannot express how much i am not chill about this

alexalbon bagsy god father - congratulations xx

username the way they kept it a secret so long so they could tell y/n's dad in person

lewishamilton looking forward to meeting the little one

note: this is a real random one but lol i found it fun - also thinking of making one of those "buy me a coffee" accounts if anyone wanted to nice a struggling student xx

[mawlbone]

not on theme but what if......

pregnant ghost, pregnant nikto? pregnant krueger?????????

(i need them pregante)

WADDLE - GHOST, NIKTO & KREGUER

SNIPPET: A little peek into the domestic lives of these soldiers and their partners learning to adapt with a little one on the way.

[CW: amab reader, afab characters, and afab terminology usage, no reader’s pronouns mentioned, trans pregnancy, anxiety attacks, vomiting, cramps, slight rutting, implied sex, and physical and mental health issues mention.]

[COMMENT: Thank you for the request! Sorry about writing this so late, I wish to do the shorter asks to clean up my drafts because I am mentally exhausted everyone. Also since I already wrote about pregnant Nikto in “Cracked Cradles”, I advise new readers to read that to get some context for his part. And special thanks to fish for giving me more brainrot for everyone. And there is angst because unfortunately these men are so miserable.]

Before the deep dive, there will be a lot of personal headcanons and thoughts given to each character that I will discuss before divulging into the ask to give more context as to how they will act during pregnancy in the order above. But I will TRY to keep it short and do a whole post about it later to save you the trouble! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

For all what is considered “Simon” or “Ghost”, I wholeheartedly believe at the end of the day, he’s the kindest character in COD because of his upbringing and how he treats people he feels personally responsible for.

If you look back in the Modern Warfare 2: Ghost “Dead Life”, a lot of details are dropped of his childhood such as his father’s abuse, Tommy’s bullying and drug addiction later in life, and how it was only really having his mother defending him from everyone else. In this type of environment, it’s quite easy, hell even understandable for someone to become resentful and lash out. I won’t blame him if one of his main reasons to joining the Air Force was to escape the house once he was old enough.

But despite having to come home to his mother’s distress after his service to the news of Tommy’s newfound drug addiction and stealing to further fund it… He decides to take a long break and still decide to take care of the boy, now man that once too contributed to his troubles along with his father and get Tommy help and kick his father out of the house and declare he’ll be the one taking responsibility for them now as simply Simon.

He’s rational, he understands that his father is the root of everyone’s troubles such as introducing Tommy to drugs in the first place and constantly distressing his mother with his infidelity. And people may think this show of selflessness is only in 09’ Ghost but even 22’ Ghost, he is quite caring such as constantly joking with Soap with his dry ass humor to lighten up the tension during operations. Even dropping his professionalism when worrying about his sergeant during that specific scene when Soap collapses and didn’t hear a response from him with such a soft tone. All of that as if the nickname, “Johnny” wasn’t enough haha as Ghost too. Simon’s kindness never left him even after all his trauma.

He’s such a sweet boy.

Nikto and Krueger, while there is not a lot of detail for both of them canonically, (I cry miserably at this), I do imagine both of them led quite lonely childhoods and joined armed service to find some purpose in their life. Also the both of them having passive suicidal behaviors that never got really checked for their psych evaluation because the higher ups just need bodies at the end of the day to train, not humans.

Look, Nikto is considered still so useful and effective that the bosses declare him too valuable to waste post torture which is scary to think about, so I won’t be surprised if Kreuger has some issues of his own that he keeps covered underneath that mask of his. I’ll write a whole analysis for them later too like Simon’s because I love them too! But this is already getting too long, so hope you enjoy domestic life with them.

Ghost

Being with Ghost means that you will have to deal with death constantly at the steps of your door with the life he leads. So he will be the type of person who absolutely will refuse to get pregnant unless he’s retired or has some 30 step plan in place to keep himself safe during it. Listen, he’s older and more experienced now, therefore that means he made a lot of new enemies and he already lost his family once, please don’t make him go through it again with you.

Though it doesn’t stop him from contemplating the family life with you still whenever he sees a family on the streets while you’re out on a walk together. It makes him not exactly bitter, but somber if more so than anything wondering if he’s depriving you of that type of joy. He really likes his job, it practically defines him but staying at home and having a family again sounds a bit too good for him.

When he does get pregnant eventually after years of reassurance from you and preparation with the help of Price and Laswell to help him conceal his identity even further and moving somewhere quiet, Ghost will desperately try to be at peace throughout the duration of his pregnancy because he doesn’t want the baby to suffer from all his mood swings, and have issues because of all his hormones screwing with him. He heard it will have detrimental effects on the baby from the few parenting books he picked up.

Alongside this point, I do think the Rileys has a history of mental troubles and the last thing Ghost will want is to carry it down further to his baby. It’s not exactly that he’ll hate his child or his late family if they do inherit it but he will rather they led a much more happier life than he did without feeling like a burden all because he was greedy to have a family again.

He’ll heavily latch himself onto you whenever a nasty thought keeps cracking against his head. Getting all insecure and dealing with horrible intrusive thoughts wondering if he’ll repeat his father’s cycle of abuse onto his baby, it doesn’t help that he already looks so much like him. He will probably beg the baby to look more like you than him because the thought of seeing a resemblance to younger him makes him ill enough to lose any appetite for the rest of the day.

But months of watching you kissing and talking to the bump all while praising him for practically just existing makes his heart feel lighter about the matter when you stroke over his stretched skin and tell him how gorgeous he is still. His favorite however, that makes his heart unbearably warm is when he wakes up in the morning to see your sleepy head pressed against his tummy cuddling into the baby unconscious every time without fail. He doesn’t tell you about the countless photos he took of that moment with the golden light bathing you in warmth and illuminating that shiny ring on your finger.

During the pregnancy phase, you’ll have to move your shared bed to the corner of the room so he can feel safe while sleeping with the wall and you pressed again him, protecting and keeping the baby and him warm from the outside world. One of the many little things you had prepared for him to sooth his worries and insomnia, and when it gets so bad due to your husband’s anxiety, you’ll resort to taking Ghost into the car and driving endlessly throughout the night on long roads and around neighborhoods until the ride lulls him back to the gentle embrace of sleep fogs over his eyes once more. A large helping of sticky toffee pudding also gets him at ease enough to rest happily with how much he been craving sweets lately to end off dinner.

He becomes much more relaxed as he gets further along his pregnancy after his mind becomes more secure, just ditching the pants and wearing loose shorts and shirts around the house because he had enough dealing with soiled clothes due to his leaky chest and numerous bathroom runs because the child keeps kicking onto his bladder to annoy him for not giving her enough attention or when they just kicking Simon to go to you because they miss you too.

So you’ll have to deal with grumpy Ghost who become more needy and squirming to fit underneath your shirt to feel you skin to skin with him. Badgering you and all to help him with his aches because it’s too uncomfortable and he’s tired! Despite those annoyances, he becomes much more playful and all smiles when you decide to work from home so you can watch over him during the last few weeks until his due date. Long slow days where you get to see him sleep more and become louder, already preparing dad jokes and all that jazz.

But it’ll only be his misfortune one day when he laughed too hard at his own lame joke, and causing his water to suddenly burst like a broken dam as you watched in pure dismay, and leading him out the door with the bags to the base’s hospital with your now sheepish husband covering his reddened cheeks.

Nikto

Personally, Nikto in my interpretation has endometriosis and therefore has much more issues with getting pregnant in the first place with the additional pain onto him. So in “Crackled Cradles”, it was basically luck that he was able to get his daughter in the first place with more than enough affection to heal his pain away with the amount of pampering he gotten while pregnant.

With the newest addition in the family now, he’s perfectly content with you being out of his sight while he’s bonding with his baby and doing some housekeeping when you’re stuck in your home office for hours on end, just crying to yourself silently that you cannot be with Nikto despite only being a few rooms away because you have deadlines to meet. But hearing the happy cries and the warm raspy voice of your husband just outside your door motivates you enough to continue on. Even if you have to endure the droning old instructions that your superiors have to repeat continuously.

Days where he peeks into your office to drop off lunch and for some kisses or hearing your daughter crashing in on her walker babbling for some attention from you too, only for her to be dragged back outside as her protests fade away by Nikto’s hand dragging her car back outside are your favorite parts in your life nowadays. If she comes early enough, somehow miraculously avoiding Nikto’s detection, you’ll settle her on your lap for some snuggles while you work.

With the abundance of affection that Nikto receives from you and his daughter, that doesn’t stop him from constantly pawing at your pants though as he whines and demands for another baby from you. You’ll find him begging, all teary eyed for one during his birthdays, anniversaries and even during the holidays because he wants more little you’s running around the cottage. It makes you sigh at his baby fever, especially when it gets the worst during his periods as he drag his bottom against your thigh to relieve his aches, trying to tempt you into knocking him up again, praying for hopefully more than one this time. He became so greedy and it’s your fault that he became like this after keeping him all sweet and warm, so take responsibility why don’t you?

If you wish to be mean to him, you can put on a condom on last minute to ease his aches and watch him sob when he feels rubber instead of you as he curses you for being to horrible to him. Thrashing and scratching up your back because while you’re relieving all of his bad aches, he truly wants another baby so he doesn’t feel lonely again once you two grow old, he doesn’t like the idea of an empty nest in the next few decades.

So you shouldn’t be surprised the next night after tucking your daughter to sleep when you have to face your dear husband sitting atop of your bed, glaring at you enough to kill you twice before you turn your head to see his knife embedded into the empty box of condoms besides him. “Do it properly this time”, you’ll hear him growl as you feel cold sweat begin to drip down your back. It’s not exactly that you wanted to be mean to him, it’s that you will rather save him from the heartache since he’s already at a high risk during pregnancy. But you feel that’s too late to say as you watch Nikto begin to stalk towards you.

It’ll only be a few months later when you are met with a positive pregnancy test in your hand with Nikto with a smile so smug, he practically looks like the cat that ate the canary. You should had already learned to never mess with a dedicated soldier, especially if you are married to one. You don’t exactly have the heart to scold him gently that day for risking his health once again when he’s beaming so brightly at his bump once again.

You decide to hold it in and now just enjoy watching your daughter sleep in between her father’s legs for nap time, trying her best to lay her head as light as possible on her sibling when you came out of your office to check up on them, worried about the long silence for too long before joining their cuddle pile. You’ll take any chance for them to rest, as you gathered more cushions surround them as you continuously had to guide Nikto to go nap as well after spending too much time making matching clothes for the baby already.

Though his skin is already marred with heavy scars from the torture he had experienced, it’s not exactly he’s insecure of them much anymore with the new stretch marks littering about his arms and thighs after his first pregnancy when you made no shame in showing your appreciating by smoothing over the leftover flap of his stomach and helping him bathe and taking over his scarred skin. It makes him feel satisfied with this new life, even if he’s reduced to be more “harmless” now.

He doesn’t get what you mean when you say he looks “beautiful” when he feels all sweaty and disgusting from the labors of pain, but all that matters is the opinions of his children and you in his life, so he’s quite content even if it gets a bit busy and you have to work overtime sometimes to free your weekends to spend time with them, but life is good. He’ll have to get a bigger bed soon to fit everyone later and perhaps do some renovations on the cottage later.

Kreuger

For all what is known and isn’t known about the ever changing operator, under cold lights and the sturdiness of his form, he’s ever so reflective in the way tiny green toy soldiers are. You’ll watch dark beady eyes gaze upon you when he comes crashing into your clinic. And there you’ll become fascinated with the way his back muscles fold under your hands like cheap plastic.

There’s no label for this, that’s just how it works between you, him, and the silence that envelopes you all into nothingness in the long quiet. So as long as no one knows what happens behind the closed doors of your office, this standstill will continue between you and him. Even when the heat becomes unbearably nauseating when teeth meet flesh.

It’s a familiar tango, there’s no rush for you to evade the cloak he surrounds himself with. Always rummaging through your file cabinets to help himself to your snacks, you had since learned to order more of his favorites for him. Greedy bastard…

He’s cute enough to get away with it when he sleeps so soundly atop of you, with his head buried within your neck or in one of the clinic’s bed while you work. But you had been getting a bit worried with how he’ll been more sleepier nowadays. You’ll get an answer a few days later when you hear the familiar sounds of boots hitting tiles, only to be jolted at your disgruntled partner staring at you before sliding the positive test onto your desk.

There’s very little things that Kreuger can keep himself attached to. Constantly switching jobs and names entirely, except for skin and bones. It’s a shame that he keeps resting from his loneliness, he rather not open himself up for a knife to be rammed inside his chest. So forgive him if he’s a bit awkward, foolish at worst with how he tries to talk without sounding like an automated machine. He rather not leave himself all exposed but years of exposure under your hands left him trusting enough to tell you. If he wasn’t, he would’ve ran away long ago.

Arrangements had to be made immediately for him as he heavily insisted on keeping his career and the baby, but it’s fine, you had already understood this long ago when he first begin crashing into your life. Kreuger had always been adamant on having the freedom to move around, so if anything, it’s quite nice to see him more standstill if anything, all curled up and hogging the sheets. You’ll deal with the earful from your superiors later for taking him off the field for a bit.

And with how elusive Krueger is, it shouldn’t be a surprise that his pregnancy is too a mystery as you held his practically nonexistent bump. Feeling over the alabaster skin, you’ll move your hands to his newly formed love handles instead and squish the side of your hips as he complains about how much your child had been squeezing itself into the back of his stomach and them giving him back pains. You’ll laugh though when you gently poke the child to feel them and watch as they push against your hand all annoyed for bothering them. Before Kreuger deciding to grab your own to hold instead.

He’ll heavily complain about how clumsy he feels nowadays, unlike his agileness before, he more or less been could be taken as a penguin on olive oil with how much he has to hold himself onto you now. It makes him unbearably angry sometimes with how bad his legs cramp up and you’re not there to hold him. He doesn’t like anyone else touching him and he already shuns away from most of the base anyways, thankfully his silence is enough to scare most people off anyways. So you’ll try your best to massage his aches away and help him tidy up his scruff when he becomes too tired to do anything.

Eventually when he reaches his third trimester, you relocated him back to your home with him to be more comfortably situated. No longer is he confined to the cafeteria’s slop or your cabinet to fulfill his strange addictions. Here in your kitchen, he can thrive on making his fancy little sandwiches with all types of breads, cheeses, and jams filling up your cabinets now. And other small finger foods like hard pretzels to eat throughout the day. He would rather not deal with the nausea from a full stomach nowadays. But the child seems to be delighted by the taste of apple juice nowadays as Kreuger bemoans about how they are the most active whenever he’s drunk some to satisfy his cravings and kicking him excitedly before resorting back to his spine out of all places.

Desperately needs some quiet or ambient music playing whenever he goes because he doesn’t look the fogginess of his brain screwing with him and despises vomiting, so often you’ll have some gum of smelling salts for him to cool down. It leaves him a little too raw for him to deal on a regular basis. You regularly go on your knees to massage his swollen feet and put socks on for him when he cannot anymore.

While Kreuger huffs and puffs all he wants about the pain, you’ll hear him speak little endearments to the child and catch him sleeping outside with a blanket over his stomach in a porch’s chair, letting the cool evening breeze rock him to sleep. You decide to make yourself cozy and settle beside him in another chair, watching how soften his face had become without the harsh lines of anger and that net casting his face into obscurity. His face become more rounded now, sharp lines turned puffy from sleep and more weight holding onto him. He’s more human than he ever been, no longer that statuesque toy soldier you once knew before. The moment would had been endearing if it wasn’t for Kreuger’s noisy snoring scaring away the birds.

Even with a few rough patches here and there, you’ll watch Kreuger pace around the house carefully as he holds his bump and asking you to rearrange the nursery around to fit his preference. With full drawers and the sight of your sleepy husband partaking in this joy of picking out what he wishes is peaceful. You’ll have to hire someone to help you both for the birth later with how Kreuger’s lack of identity will cause trouble for the baby later, but in the present moment, you’ll simply partake in watching your man trying to choose between the two different floral sheets to align the crib with.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 25 - "Do I look like I knew that?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Edit - adjusted the last bit a little after rereading this during my break, so that it makes grammatically more sense...

There was no warning. The moment the Waynes had stepped into the main hall of this Gala they had not been prepared for what had been about to happen. The only sign they had gotten was Damian tensing for a split second before the youngest of them booked it across the hall.

Tim and Bruce instantly attempted damage control, distracting all the high society people that had noticed it, while Dick and Jason followed their youngest. Cass had already escaped the gala to the roof before they had set their first foot into the main hall.

But again, nothing could have prepared them for what was happening.

Damian not only had seen something that caused him to sprint across the room no, their Demon Brat had gone a step further and just tackled the kid of someone else over and was now wrestling with the other boy! Holding one of the daggers they must have missed to the other boy's neck.

Surprisingly, the other kid held himself pretty well against Damian. Jason and Dick spent a good five minutes just staring when they had found their youngest, only starting to move again when Vlad Master demanded answers from his child. The apparent guardian of the kid that was currently attempting to get a choke hold on Damian before getting flipped over the shoulder, the boy flipped mid air, landing on his feet.

Before Damian could lung at the other boy again Dick grabbed him, his arm wounding around Damians chest as he held onto his youngest brother that sent quite an impressive death glare towards the other kid that just returned the glare, not with the same intensity but clearly peeved had having gotten attacked out of nowhere.

"Daniel! Explain this instant! You promised me, one gala without a ruckus!" Master was clearly not amused, hopefully Bruce had some sort of peace offering ready. Not that the man needed it, Dick thought, remembering some of the reports he had seen the man on.

The boy, Daniel, turned his glare towards his guardian. "It's not my fault this time! HE attacked me first!" Jason snorted, clearly having heard out of that statement alone that Masters apparently also had a feral kid that attacked someone at a gala before.

"This is no excuse. I know you are still grieving but you can not attack my business partner's children. Wasn't it enough that you broke Andrews Mayors nose last week?"

"He deserved it, he hit a girl in a perverted way."

"Justin Gracer?"

"Made fun of my late parents' profession."

"Daniel."

"Fruitloop."

Dick watched how Masters pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not happy with his charge. By now Damian seemed to have calmed down too from whatever idea he had gotten into his head. He was still glaring at the other kid but at least it appeared he wasn't going to attack anymore when he hissed at Dick to let go of him. He still kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I am so sorry Mr. Master. It wasn't Daniel that started it. Damian, come on apologies." Dick cut in, causing the other two to pay attention and fully face them. That's when he noticed it. Daniel looked a whole lot like Damian. The older siblings shared a glance before Jason left to get the others, Tim and Bruce were still stuck doing damage control but it should only be a matter of time. What was the best way to bring it up to ask subtitle questions without appearing suspicious?

Dick was just about a question before Daniel apparently beat him to it. "Fruitloop, you did not attempt to clone me did you?"

"Little Badger, why would I do that? I already have guardianship over you."

Dick felt like he was missing something here but he also felt Daniam's shoulder tense below his hand. So that was why he had attacked. Damian thought another clone appeared. He really hoped what Masters and his Charge seid were just some ill timed joke. Otherwise the implications would be very worrisome.

"Mom and Dad didn't keep some other family relations secret did they?" Daniel then asked and Masters looked at them contemplatively. "Well Jack was estranged from the rest of his family while Maddie only had her sister Alicia and as far as I am aware you and Jasmine were their only children."

"Mr. Masters if you don't mind, would it be alright to do a DNA testing? You said Daniel's father was estranged from his family? It would be good to find out now if there is a relation." Dick ignored the glare Damian was sending him now, but this was his best excuse to get the others DNA to test if the other boy was really a clone or not. If he was then the League of Assassins must have done some serious brainwashing, and memory manipulation. This would also be the first clone of Damian that actually had a consciousness of his own.

"Doesn't explain why he attacked me…" he heard the other boy mutter as Master stared at them with narrowed eyes for a while before giving the boy by his side a contemplating look.

"Daniel has lost his family and friends in an incident recently. It would be good if we found any family he could connect with or help with his grief." The man then finally said after a moment before handing Dick a business card with a number to connect them before leading his boy away, leaving the gala for all they knew.

A week later and after a lot of discussion in their Family. The Waynes and Masters meet for the DNA testing. Though the moment Masters and his charge met Bruce both froze, Bruce in his Brucie act blinked innocently at them and asked if anything was wrong.

"Fruitloop…"

"Don't be ridiculous Daniel. I never would have attempted what you appear to be implying."

The boy pointed in at Bruce as he faced his guardian. "Look at him and tell me they don't look alike! He is like a more fit version of Dad! Like he hadn't eaten a single one of mom fudges in years! You have to have an explanation for that!"

"And how would I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the fruitloop one that had cloning equipment in the basement! Who did you buy it from? Some old fruitloop? The one you bought it from, did they try to - i don't know - clone a celebrity for themselves! The papers you had with it clearly stated that it had been used successfully once. It was a second hand bought with super old technology when I demanded you destroy the stuff!"

"Daniel, do I look like I knew that? I never looked in these papers you speak of! I just bought it as a backup plan, that I never needed a little badger! Besides the only one I would have ever attempted to clone with that time frame would have been your mother! I didn't even know your father before college! "

"Why would you buy something without looking into the papers and instruction manuals you get with it?!"

"There was no need for! Why did you even look into that when you had me destroy it anyway?!"

The Waynes looked back and forth between Masters and his charge. The more these two continued to argue the more a sinking feeling started to form in everyone present. It was Tim though that voiced everyone's thoughts as he leaned over to Bruce whispering only one question. "Are we sure there never has been an attempt of someone trying to clone you? It sounds like there had been one, years ago…"