#i have Many Thoughts about that decision at the end of chapter 1 in the consular storyline

[possessiveandobsessive]

Hello again! This is another Rook×Lucanis story, but will be much longer than my last work! I'm not sure how many parts it will be yet as it's not complete, but I will be updating regularly!

***This story will cover the last several chapters of the game, and will be full of spoilers! So don't read if you haven't played the end and don't want to know!***

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

Part 1: The Girl with the World on her Shoulders

Fierce green eyes stared back at Rook from Varric’s old shaving mirror. She’d been told many times throughout her life that her eyes were a bit “intense” or “odd”, meaning they freaked people out. Rook’s eyes were an extremely bright green, lighter towards her pupil, and slightly darker at the edge of her iris. This could sometimes make them appear as if they were glowing, but she was no spirit or demon. Her eyes didn’t glow. Her mother, for the short time she was in Rook’s life, had always told her that they reminded her of the fade itself. Rook had no idea as to what her mother meant, until she watched the sky tear itself apart and allowed the Fade to leak slowly into their world ten years ago. To this day she wasn’t sure how her mother had known what color the Fade was, but she really wasn’t far off.

There was nothing particularly special about Rook outside of her freaky eyes and the fact that she was a Grey Warden mage. It would only be fair if that had been the case, but unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to care about fairness. Not to mention, it turned out her gods were massive dicks. 

Rook had relatively pale skin (especially for an elf), with a light smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and nose. She bore the Vassallin of Mythal on her forehead and temples. It wove into almost a “V” shape, and its coal black ink had it standing out prominently against her skin. Thick dark eyebrows sat on her brow, perfectly matching the pitch black hair on her head. Rook didn’t make a habit of cutting or upkeeping her hair these days. That meant it hung in straight shaggy locks nearly down to her shoulders in the back, and to just shy of her chin in the front. Two short pieces framed her face on either side and she kept the rest tucked behind her pointed ears so she could see her enemies as she fought. Several long thin scars marred her pale skin around her eyes and cheeks. The dark bags under her eyes did not help with the overall unkempt look of the woman in the mirror.  

I look like shit, Rook thought flatly. Though, I honestly have a pretty good excuse. A whole list of them in fact. She shook her head slightly as if to force the thoughts from her mind. Re-living all that had happened in the last several months was not helpful when trying to relax and formulate a new game plan. Thoughts like these didn’t go away easily. 

She had first tried to stop Solas’s ritual only to have that fall apart and release not one, but two evil gods back into the world. Varric was injured in the process as well, all because of decisions she had made. 

Then, Rook had been forced to choose between Minrathous and Treviso when the gods’ dragons had attacked both cities at once. She had been worried for a few days that she had lost Neve after Rook chose to go to Treviso instead of Minrathous, but luckily Neve isn’t a quitter, and had returned. Rook didn’t regret her decision, and she’d make it again. The number of casualties in Minrathous often made her feel sick though. Going to Dock Town was difficult. 

The next big blow was Weisshaupt. Gods, she thought, so many dead wardens. Our numbers are so few now, how are we supposed to stop a blight and kill two blighted gods? Solas, jackass that he was, had made a point to emphasize the importance of getting the Grey Wardens on her side, and using them to build an army. After the events at Weisshaupt a month ago, they’d be lucky if their current force could defend a small city, let alone the world. Rook was grieving more than just for the blow to her plans for battle against the gods, those had been her fellow Wardens, her brothers and sisters in arms. Only Wardens could truly understand the trials and tribulations that came as a result of joining the order. Only they could know the soft, beckoning melody of the blight. 

She wasn’t the only member of the team that suffered in the immediate aftermath of Weisshaupt. Lucanis felt he had failed the team because he was an abomination, and Davrin was grieving the same loss as Rook. He and Lucanis were at each other’s throats for a few weeks as a result, but had finally settled recently as they both worked through their pain. 

There were positive things that had happened as well. Rook knew it was important to remember them if she was going to be able to put on a brave face and lead this team. At last, she had finished helping each of The Veilguard (Bellara’s name for the group that had stuck) members to battle their inner demons. Literal demons in Lucanis’s case. 

While it was worth it to see her friends grow from their personal battles, Rook was completely run down and exhausted. Now they had to kill the gods before they could finish their dagger during the next eclipse. It felt overwhelming in her current state, but Rook was pretty sure it would feel overwhelming regardless of how much rest she had. These were the gods of her people’s legends, the creators of her people. Somehow, Rook was in charge of killing them now? I’m one elf! Grey Warden or not, those odds suck for me! Rook groaned internally.

Lucanis had been one of the few things keeping her afloat these days. He supported her when and where he could. Lucanis made sure she was eating enough, made sure she was sleeping more than 3 hours every night, and had a way of bringing her smile and laugh to the surface when they were deeply buried under her anxiety and sadness. Rook was tough, she had always had to be, but she was immensely grateful for him. Rook blushed lightly when she remembered the “almost kiss” in Lucanis’s room (pantry), a couple weeks before. That blush got even deeper when she thought about how truly disappointed and distraught she was directly afterward. She had seriously contemplated screaming in Lucanis’s pillow, but she restrained herself.

Even so, Rook understood Lucanis’s hesitation and fears. He had been through so much recently, including coming out of a year of torture with a demon inside him. Then Lucanis’s grandmother and one of two remaining family members died. Then that grandmother was actually alive and the other one of his two living family members (his imbecilic cousin Illario) was discovered to have plotted Lucanis’s murder and his grandmother’s kidnapping/staged murder. And the cherry on top was Lucanis having to be the one to decide his traitor cousin’s fate. He had spared Illario’s life, instead opting to lock him away after Rook suggested it as an alternative. Either way, nearly all Lucanis had experienced in the last 16 months was traumatic in some way. He needs patience and support right now, not your overwhelming desire for him, she berated herself. You know Lucanis cares, he’s shown you that. Just give him time.

Sighing heavily, Rook finally set the mirror down and rubbed her temples. Focus Nyra she chided internally. She really needed to sit down and come up with an immediate plan of action. They didn’t have long until their deadline for killing Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and Rook had very little in the way of an idea of how to do so. Solas wasn't being particularly helpful either. She was glad he had helped them to save the Dalish that Elgar’nan had intended to use as sacrifices, but she still didn’t trust him. There was something in the Dread Wolf's eyes, something that warned her he would betray her eventually. Varric, surprisingly, had also been unhelpful. He kept up with his usual pep talks. “You’re a wild card Rook, they’ll never see you coming” or “They don’t stand a chance against you and the team you’ve built, kid”. She appreciated the support, but this was Varric’s mission… right?

Rook was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Quirking an eyebrow, she called for whoever it was to come in. Harding tumbled in less than gracefully, looking up at Rook with a small look of embarrassment at her entry. 

“Harding? What is it?”

Normally Rook would’ve laughed at Harding’s clumsiness and bashful expression, but she could tell that something was important or urgent

“Morrigan wants you to meet with her at The Cobbled Swan as soon as possible. She says she has some things she wants to discuss with you. Since things are so unpredictable now that the gods are close to finishing their dagger, she said as quickly as possible would be best.” 

Harding said all of this in a rush, panting slightly from her run up the stairs to Rook’s bedroom. Rook looked at Harding with a somewhat startled expression, before saying “We should have a month before they can finish it, does she know something we don’t?” Her eyebrows knit together as she frowned, “Nevermind, the answer doesn’t actually matter I suppose. I’ll head out now,” Rooks paused briefly before adding, “On the off chance something is coming faster than we expected, make sure the team is ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We need to be ready for anything right now.”

Harding nodded firmly at Rook and turned to walk out of the room before she stopped, and spoke to Rook over her shoulder, “Be careful Rook. We need you, so don’t do anything dumb.”

Rook let out a surprised bark of laughter at that. She couldn’t really hold that comment against Harding after everything they had been through in the last few months. Rook wasn’t exactly known for having the safest plans, but they always came together at the end! Plus, they were all still alive so she was taking that as a win.

“I will Lace, don’t worry. I know what the stakes are. We have to do whatever it takes though, and that isn’t going to be safe in any version of the future.”

Harding started to turn to look at Rook, but just shook her head and said, “You’re right Rook, we do whatever it takes.” before walking down the hallway and turning to the right, no doubt heading to see Taash.

Rook immediately went to her wardrobe to change into her fighting gear. Nowhere in Thedas was safe these days, especially not for the biggest pain in the blighted gods’ asses. She finished the last buckles on her warden mage armor, and strapped on her blades. One blade was her main weapon that she used in tandem with her magic, and the other was a backup she started wearing after losing her main hand once in battle and nearly being flattened by an ogre because of it. Deciding she was prepared for anything on her journey to Dock Town, Rook walked out of her room and down the stairs towards the Eluvian.

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 here!

DATV Masterlist here!

[fabeong]

Archive Conversations - SWTOR

Summary: “Lord Vivicar had been dead for little over a week,  but his shadow had by no means retreated.” The newly-titled Barsen’thor struggles with the sacrifices she’s had to make, but Syo Bakarn has a promise to keep.

Characters: Master Syo Bakarn, Rysan Ni (Consular OC, Mirialan and mostly light-side-leaning). Mentioned: Lord Vivicar/Parkanas Tark, Yuon Parr, Qyzen Fess.

Word count: 1673

***

The clock that hovered somewhere high in the walls of the Archives chimed delicately, and Master Syo Bakarn jerked up from the text in front of him. He stared at the time in wonder for a moment, having been so absorbed in his reading that the hours had flown away and it was far later than he had wished. Through the windows he could see marvellous constellations painting intricate pictures across Tython’s sky and Syo stood, stretching his legs and working the aches from his cramped wrists – stars, when had he gotten old?

The Jedi wandered over to the closest window and stood for a while, marvelling anew at the spectacle of the stars above and the scenery below. There was no doubt that Tython had to be one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy, and that was just to the naked eye! Through the Force a person could see, as Syo did, far more than just the rolling hills, waterfalls, and smoke of far-away camps; he could feel the life of every individual who called it home, he could sense their joy, the satisfaction of a hard day’s work, the relief at survival, and hopes for the future…

And he could sense distress.

Syo frowned. He stared out of the window for a moment longer and then glanced around, searching for the source of this tremor in the Force and deciding it was definitely coming from within the Archives rather than somewhere out in Tython’s forests. But where? He walked back to the table he had been hunched over and closed the text, bookmarking his place for next time, and paced slowly through the rows of illuminated holo-texts. He seemed quite alone, unsurprising for so late at night when padawans had all been packed off to bed and most sensible Knights and Masters had followed them there. But still that current of distress called out in the Force and Syo looked up another corridor of shelves – and his heart sank.

The Mirialan was clearly asleep, slumped over the desk with her head in her arms and her short black hair falling haphazardly from its previously high ponytail. The blinking light from a holo-transmitter beside her flung light onto her dark green face and intricate tattoos but all Syo could notice was how tired the young Jedi looked, the dark shadows under her eyes only worsened by the dim glow of the desk’s failing lamp. Quietly as he could, the Jedi Master approached the desk and gently laid a hand on the Mirialan’s shoulder.

“Wha-” She jolted awake, her head snapping up and her violet eyes sweeping everywhere before focussing on Syo. “Master Syo! Sorry, I was just…”

But the young Consular’s sleepy grin faltered and then fell as she woke up properly, and the shadow across her face only grew. Syo’s brow knitted together in worry; her mental shields were still weak from sleep and he could easily sense the memories flooding back into her mind, the stress and despair, the loss. Lord Vivicar had been dead for little over a week, but his shadow had by no means retreated.

“Hello Rysan.” He greeted the Mirialan, keeping his hand gently on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I think so.” It wasn’t really an answer, and they both knew it. Instead of pushing it Syo shifted, moving to the seat beside Rysan’s and sitting down beside her.

“Are you sleeping alright?” He asked at last.

“I never did” Rysan replied wryly, and Syo just nodded. This wasn’t exactly news to him; Yuon Parr had often mentioned Rysan’s unique mind in training, her issues with focusing yet bursts of hyper-concentration, an incredible brain that could trace complex mysteries to their source yet would deny her sleep when she needed it most. Something was resting against his foot and he leant down, picking up the diamond-shaped object that must have rolled off the desk. Its metal surface was cool to the touch, and he could feel the calming energy rolling off it as he held it out to the younger Jedi with a soft smile. Her mouth twitching in what Syo hoped was the beginning of a grin, Rysan took it. “Thanks, Master.”

“Does it still help?” Syo asked curiously. Rysan held her green palm out flat and the object rose a few inches before beginning to spin rapidly.

“Yeah, it helps keep me grounded.” Even as she spoke, the focus-imbued shape was steadily slowing its rotations and the tension was bleeding out of Rysan’s shoulders. “Theran’s been building me other things too,” she added, “Things to keep my hands busy, so I can concentrate.”

“He’s a very skilled man. Though please, never let him take you to a casino.”

Rysan’s violet eyes glanced mischievously back up at the master,

“Are you telling me that from experience, Master Syo?”

“Perhaps. A mistake I have never repeated! ” Syo admitted with a chuckle and decided it was safe to ask, “What are you reading?”

He had misjudged, and Rysan’s growing smile vanished and her focus object fell into her hand heavily. She didn’t say anything for a while, just curled back into herself and raked a hand through loose black hair. He worried that she might not reply at all, but then Rysan just turned back to the datapad propped up in front of her and slid it over; taking the hint, Syo leant forward in his seat, only to see a list of names. He frowned in confusion for a moment before realising that these names were familiar, Jedi names, names that had been recently read out at a memorial ceremony in the peaceful courtyard that the Archives overlooked. These were the names of the Jedi who had died with Vivicar, and Rysan was on page four out of twelve. Now Syo was quiet for a while too, using the pad of his finger to slowly scroll down the list.

“It’s a good thing to honour the dead, Rysan.” He said at last, his voice calm and gentle. “But we shouldn’t hold onto them beyond their time.”

The Mirialan Jedi shifted, now hugging her knees to her chest. The motion threw dark shadows across her exhausted face, and Syo’s heart ached – she’s far too young to look so pained.

“Master Tyken. Master Fain. Master Vossan, Master Sidone.” Rysan recited those names as if they were seared into her brain. “I saved them for nothing.”

Her hollow voice would have betrayed her emotions even if her powerful Force signature hadn’t.

Rysan. Look after her. Promise me, Syo, please.

Syo had made that promise to Yuon Parr, and now he took a breath, switching off the datapad before turning to look at the knight head-on.

“That’s not true. Cin Tyken’s padawan is safe and will be well supported in her future studies. Nar Shaddaa has one less gang roaming its streets. Master Vossan’s research, which you yourself saved, will be preserved and used just as he wanted. And do not underestimate the peace which you brokered on Alderaan, Rysan. Master Sidone rested knowing you brought healing where she could not.”

Rysan had slowly lowered her knees from her chest and was spinning the diamond-shaped object again. Syo paused before adding “And I’m sure you know that Yuon Parr would be incredibly proud of you.”

“You think so?” It was barely audible in her voice, but Syo could relax as he sensed the sliver of relief, of hope sink through the young Jedi.

“No. I know how proud she was of you.”

Tell Rysan I’m proud of her, Syo.

There was no mistaking the small smile that flickered on Rysan’s face. Syo smiled too, and leant forward to lay a hand on her shoulder again. “You have done well, padaw-” he broke off, catching his near-mistake with a wry smile, “Barsen’thor. You ensured the end of a plague that could have wiped us out and undoubtedly earned that title. There’s no need to be so hard on yourself.”

“Thank you, Master Syo.” Anyone who knew Rysan Ni would tell you her smile was infectious and now certainly proved it; despite his own tiredness and concern for the young Jedi Syo found himself returning her smile in kind.

“It’s alright.” He replied, “I will always be here if you need me, Rysan.”

Rysan’s grateful smile lit up her face, and she suddenly moved forward to fling her arms around the elder master in a tight hug. Syo blinked, startled for a moment; the Jedi didn’t exactly encourage such overt expressions. But he had made a promise and he cared enough to keep it, and he returned the embrace gently.

“Thank you.” Rysan whispered into his shoulder. The urgent flashing of her commlink drew her attention and she drew back to pull it over.

“Qyzen’s looking for me.” She murmured, her violet eyes scanning the message “I should-”

“Get some sleep.” Syo interposed, trying and failing to sound stern. It didn’t work, Rysan actually laughed – a welcome sound – as she got to her feet and stretched. Her left wrist and hand cracked as she did so, not from the popping of natural joints but from the whirr of mechanical gears in her cybernetic.

“I’ll just see what he wants, then go to bed. Promise.” She almost turned to go before Syo cleared his throat and held out the focus object she was about to forget on the table. Rysan took it with a sheepish grin. “Thanks. Goodnight, Master Syo.”

“Goodnight, Rysan. Sleep well.” The Master watched the young knight vanish into the depths of the Temple, no doubt to find her Trandoshian friend who was also grieving for her former master.

Syo knew he should worry about Rysan. Her capacity for care, for emotion, for attachment even, was such that only her shocking sacrifice of Vivicar and the masters had kept the Council’s mouth closed on the subject. It really should worry him.

But Syo had no idea that same care would one day save his life.

-Fin-

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 1

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Koschei the Deathless Sorcerer was killed by the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

It was less dramatic than it sounded. At least Azriel thought so. 

And if Lucien hadn’t been a fucking idiot and put himself into a position to be kidnapped by the very same deathless sorcerer…then they wouldn’t even have been in that kind of situation. 

But he had been and so it ended with Azriel so magically exhausted that he collapsed the very same moment Truthteller stroke true once more. 

At least Koschei was slayn. 

And the only reason Azriel had gone to rescue the red-headed male in the first place was the fact that  Lucien was Elaine’s mate. Lucien was the male Elain loved. Azriel couldn’t let him die. 

Couldn’t let Elain feel the devastation of a mating bond broken by death…so his decision making had been quick. Either he would manage to get Lucien free…or he would die trying.  There wasn’t many things that he wouldn’t do for the female he loved. Even when he knew it shouldn’t be. 

Azriel had never been very good at knowing when enough was enough after all, wasn’t he?

No price was high enough to pay when it was about Elain’s happiness, as far as Azriel was concerned.  

He hadn't expected to wake up, and yet… there he was. Alive and whole.

*I hope it was worth it, Master,* the shadows sniped at him.

He blinked, taking in the dim light of the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. His room in the House of Wind.

“You are a fucking idiot, you know?” Cassian hissed at him from his place at his bedside and Azriel blinked at him.

"Lucien?" he brought out hoarsely.

"Not as much as a fucking scratch on him. Thanks to you," Cassian responded. "You on the other hand...Madja thought you were going to fucking die from pure magical exhaustion!"

Even Azriel he had...it would have been worth it. Lucien had made it out alive - and that was all that mattered in the end. Elain would be happy. That was all he cared about.

He didn't say that aloud though. 

He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Three days," Cassian growled. "Three. Days."

Azriel sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in his muscles. It felt like his entire body was one giant bruise, every inch of him pained and sore.

"Lay back down," Cassian snapped.

Azriel shot him a glare, but sank back onto the bed nonetheless. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just tired."

"Yeah, well, we'll let Madja be the judge of that," Cassian snapped. "And when you are feeling better, I am going to kill you for going off on your own!"

Azriel just gave him a weary look. "Better me than you," he said dryly. He closed his eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over him. Cassian had Nesta to think about. Azriel didn't. Azriel just had himself.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Cassian demanded.

Azriel didn't have the energy to answer

He dosed off, feeling the shadows twine around him. They were muttering, words he could c quite understand, bitching under their breath but for once it was comforting.

He woke up, feeling groggy and disoriented. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his limbs were heavy. He groggily blinked at the room, feeling like he was in a haze.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone. Cassian was still there, as was Madja.

Azriel groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head was throbbing, and his vision was a little blurred. He rubbed his face, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

Cassian and Madja both looked at him, their expressions relieved. "How are you feeling?" Madja asked him, moving closer to the bed and waving a hand in front of his face.

"Like I was hit by a wagon," Azriel admitted. His muscles felt tight and sore, his body heavy with fatigue. His wings felt like they were made of lead, and every movement took a huge effort.

"That's unsurprising considering you nearly magicked yourself to death," Madja said gruffly. "Your body had a tremendous amount of stress and strain put on it. You're lucky to be alive."

He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, I didn't have a lot of other options," he pointed out.

Madja just let out a huff and began prodding and poking at his body, running her hands over his wings and checking his pulse. Cassian watched anxiously from the side, his arms crossed over his chest.

Azriel bore her ministrations in silence, trying not to wince as she poked and prodded at him. He knew she was just trying to help, but it didn't make the ordeal any more pleasant.

After what felt like forever, she finally stepped back, nodding to herself. "You're lucky, shadowsinger," she said gruffly. "You're lucky you're so damn resilient," she said, and he couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation.

He looked at her blearily. "I guess I can add that to my list of things to be proud of," he muttered sarcastically.

Cassian barked out a laugh, but Madja just rolled her eyes. The door opened at that moment. "How's he doing?" Rhys demanded.

Azriel wanted to let out a sigh at the sight of Rhys. He loved his brother, but he didn't have the energy for a lecture right now.

Madja turned to Rhys. "He's weak and he's stupid," she snapped. "But he's alive."

Rhys let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Madja," he said. "Would you...give us a moment?"

Madja nodded, patting Azriel's leg as she got up to leave. "Rest," she ordered. "And no strenuous activity for at least a week."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Rhys turned to Azriel. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"I was thinking that I was saving Lucien's life," Azriel replied evenly, meeting his brother's gaze. "I couldn't let him die, Rhys."

"Wouldn't that have made it easier for you?* Rhys demanded sharply mentally. *You are the one that fancies himself in love with Elain.*

Maybe it shouldn't hurt him as much as it did. He didn't fancy himself in love with her. He was in love with her. Had been in love with her and Rhys had been the one to order him away from her, which had given Lucien the opportunity to swoop in and Elain had...Elain had given in. Given in to that Siren Song of the Mating Bond and was very much in love with her mate now. 

It hurt to hear Rhys say it like that, like it was just some passing infatuation that he'd gotten over.

*Lucien is her mate,* he responded simply. He didn't say what he really thought. He didn't say that he would rather have Elain be happy and never talk with him again than to have her wilt like one of her flowers because her mate had died and the mating bond would be broken… He didn't say that he loved Elain enough, that her happiness was more important to him than anything else. He didn't say any of that.

*At least you are recognising that now,* Rhys said with a snort.  Azriel didn't flinch. Didn't react.

He hid away in that little corner of his brain he went to when everything became too much. Where he could just shut up all his feelings, all these pesky emotions, and just be...nothing. Nothing. That's the only thing he still had left.

He just shrugged, schooling his face into a careless expression. "I did what I had to do, Rhys," he repeated stubbornly. "Lucien is a good male. He didn't deserve to die."

"Elain wants to thank you," Rhys said suddenly.

Azriel's stomach twisted as Rhys mentioned Elain. He felt a pang of longing in his chest, a desperate ache to see her, to touch her, to hear her voice. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't subject himself to the torture of seeing her with her mate, seeing her happy in Lucien's arms.

So his answer was definite: "There is no need for that," he said simply.

Rhys gave him a sharp look. "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "She's been worried sick about you."

But Azriel just shook his head, even as his heart thudded in his chest.

*You can keep it together for 5 minutes,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

"Rhys," Cassian said carefully. "If he doesn't want to, just let it..."

"He's being ridiculous," Rhys snapped, interrupting Cassian. "Elain is family.”

Azriel grit his teeth but didn't respond. He didn't have the energy for an argument right now. He just wanted to sleep.

*See her for 5 minute snad then you can sulk like a spoiled child until you feel better about yourself,* Rhys bargained drily.

Azriel hesitated. He knew he should see her, knew that it would make things easier for everyone if he did. But the thought of seeing her, seeing her happy with Lucien when he was so miserable, was like a knife to the gut.

"Does it even matter what I want?" he asked, his voice flat.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, looking at him with exasperation. "Az, stop being so damned stubborn. Elain has been worried sick about you - the least you can do is let her see that you are alive."

Azriel didn't say anything. Didn't respond. He just stared at Rhys, feeling like every fiber of his being was being pulled apart. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see her more than anything. But he knew that once he saw her, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together. He would break. He would shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Just...come on, Az," Rhys said finally. "Let her see you. She needs to know you're alright."

Azriel knew he couldn't say no. Knew he couldn't hurt her like that. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said softly. "But just for five minutes."

Five minutes. He could do five minutes. He had to. For her…

She was still as achingly beautiful as she always had been. These devasting brown eyes, the caramel curls...

Azriel's breath hitched at the sight of her, and he felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him. Love, longing, sadness, and that bittersweet pang of being so close to something he could never have.

Behave, Rhys warned him sharply.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Trying to push back that wave of feelings that threatened to drown him. It was just five minutes, he reminded himself. Five minutes. He could do this.

The shadows swirled around him, welling up with intensity, shrouding much of his body in inky blackness and Elain flinched back from them.

She had never quite warmed up to them. Azriel was just thankful for that display, for keeping her away from him as she entered the room, Lucien on her heels.

"How...How are you feeling?" she asked him, her voice soft.

He could tell that she was worried, that she was concerned for him. It warmed something inside him, and he hated himself for it. 

"I'm fine," Azriel answered hoarsely.  "Just tired.

"I...thank you," Elain said softly, binting her lip. "If you hadn't...if you hadn't killed Koschei and freed Lucien...I...Thank you, Azriel."

Hearing her say his name again was like a punch to the gut. It was both a comfort and a torture, to be so close to her and yet so far away. He swallowed hard, biting back the words that threatened to spill out.

"You don't owe me any thanks," he said quietly. "I just did what had to be done."

"I do owe you my life," Lucien disagreed. "Thank you. Without your interference...I wouln't have survived, " he said flatly.

Azriel just shrugged, feeling a wave of bitterness wash over him. He had saved Lucien, had risked his life to save the male who was mated to the female he loved. It was a strange sort of irony.

"It's fine," he said roughly. "I'm just glad I got there in time."

He couldn't look at her. Couldn't look at Lucien. It hurt too much. So he stared at the floor, willing the shadows to consume him entirely.

"We are all just happy you are feeling alright," Elain said softly. "I...I was worried about you. Everyone was."

Azriel forced himself to look up at her, his heart clenching at the sincerity in her eyes. She really had been worried about him. "I'm alright," he promised her, his voice rough. "Really. I just need some rest."

Elain hesitated, taking a step forward. He could hear her heartbeat, could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. It was torture to be so close to her and yet so far away. It was torture to know that she was so close and yet so unattainable. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but he knew he couldn't. He held onto that last shred of reason he had.

She tugged a piece of hair behind one delicately arched ear...and that was the moment he saw the gold and pearl ring that decorated her ring finger.

"Congratulations." He wasn't sure how he even brought out these words...how he managed to make them sound...appropriately happy for her.

It took a herculean effort to say those words, to offer a smile that barely reached his eyes. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest, yelling that he should have been the one giving her that ring, that he should have been the one by her side. But he pushed back those feelings, burying them deep down inside of himself. He couldn't let her see how he truly felt. He couldn't let her know how much it was tearing him apart to stand there and look at her. Look at her with her mate, with the male she loved, the one she had chosen. 

"Congratulation," he repeated, his voice a little rougher than before.

"It wouldn't have been possible without you," Elain said, with a smile.

Azriel just nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He couldn't find the words to respond, couldn't find the words to express the tangle of emotions swirling inside of him. He just sat there, feeling more alone and isolated than he had in a long time.

Elain took another step in his direction, seemingly ready to reach out, but Cassian intercepted her. placing a gentle hand on Elain's shoulder. "He needs his rest," he said softly. "Let's leave him be for now."

Azriel felt a pang of gratitude towards Cassian. Elain hesitated, looking torn.

"I wish you every happiness," Azriel brought out his voice hoarsely. Not even a lie.  It was the frank truth in these words and Elain gave him a smile, before Lucien's hand came to rest at her lower back, guiding her out of the room.

Thank the cauldron. They were gone. 

He slumped back into the pillow.  He was falling apart. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He just wanted to be left alone, to lick his wounds in peace.

"Az..." Cassian said carefully, but he cut him off.

“I am tired,” Azriel said, his voice hoarse. “I need to sleep.”

The shadows swirled around him tighter. 

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look, before Cassian nodded, "Alright," he said. "Get some rest."

He laid down properly, closing his eyes, calling the shadows to him wordlessly. They swamred around him immediately. Damn Near suffocating him.  It was the only thing that kept him from starting to sob.

The shadows embraced him, wrapping him in their inky blackness, shielding him from the outside world. They were his only comfort, just like they had been for centuries. 

*We are there, Master.* They promised him softly. *It will be fine, Master.*

He didn’t believe a fucking word they said. 

*We are not willing to lose you, Master. We aren’t interested in finding a new master,* they told him seriously. He choked out a laugh that turned into a sob. 

*Sleep, Master. We'll keep watch,* they promised him.

And they did. 

Bone deep exhaustion meant that at least his sleep was dreamless. At least that was given to him. It was a small mercy. 

When he woke up again, Nesta was there, sitting in an armchair reading.

Azriel blinked, feeling disoriented and groggy. He sat up slowly, wincing as his wounds protested the movement. Nesta looked up from her book, her expression neutral.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him quietly.

"Fine," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was fine. He would be fine. 

"Thank you," Nesta said suddenly.

Azriel looked up at her, surprised. He wasn't even sure what she was thanking him for.

"For what?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“You nearly got yourself killed to save my sister’s mate. I think Thank you is the least I owe you," Nesta said drily.

She mustered him with grey eyes and he knew that she knew. Knew that she knew or at the very least could guess about his feelings for Elain and probably be right. She wouldn't say anything, but she knew.

He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was over with. Done. 

Lucien and Elain could be happy and Azriel…Azriel would hide away somewhere. 

"You don't owe me anything," he waved Nesta off weakly, but she didn’t seem to want to take the hint, sticking out her chin. 

"Yes, I do," Nesta disagreed. "You are the reason why my little sister is happy right now," she told him fiercely. He swallowed down the unkind words at the tip of her tongue...didn't say anything. Didn't.... He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t…

"Is there anything I can do?" Nesta asked him, her voice soft. "Anything at all, Az?" H knew that he could ask for anything and Nesta would do her level best to give it to him. She was stubborn like that. He had half a mind to ask her to use her silver flames to put him on fire and put him out of his misery. 

He didn’t. 

Even that wouldn’t fix it. 

There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing to make it any better. There was nothing that could...that could fix the ache in his chest.

"Porridge," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Porridge?" Nesta repeated incrediously.

"Porridge with honey. I am hungry," he repeated, meeting her gaze. Food. Food. More Sleep. More Work. He could fill his waking hours with useless things and everybody would be happy. 

Nesta just looked at him for a moment, then inclined her head.

"Porridge with honey. Alright," she agreed. Just a moment later a massive bowl of Porridge with honey drizzled on top, appeared on his bedside table, so hot it was steaming. Seemed like the house was in a mood to spoil him. He even got a whiff of cinnamon from it.

"Thank you," he thanked Nesta's creature aloud as the shadows fetched the bowl and held it up for him to eat a spoonful. "What are you reading?" he asked Nesta, changing the topic. 

She was polite enough not to say anything about it. 

Nesta held up her book. “The newest Sellyn Drake novel,” she replied.

"Is it any good?" he inquired, stirring his porridge gently.

“It’s brilliant," Nesta gushed, her eyes devoured the pages as soon as she looked down to continue reading.

"You seem to really like it," he pointed out, taking another bite of his porridge. "It is brilliant," Nesta agreed readily. “The plot is so intricate and twists and turns and the characters are so deep and complex and their emotions are so real and the romance is so...” she trailed off, blushing slightly.

He opened his mouth to respond...but then he heard her.

Mor. Of course.

He couldn’t deal with Mor. Not right now. But there she was, Rhys hot on her heels.

Nesta heard her too, rolling her eyes, curling back up on her chair, making it very clear that while she was going nowhere, she was letting him deal with it on her own. 

And he didn’t want to deal with Mor. 

But there she was. 

Mor came strolling into the room, her usual confident smile firmly in place. Rhys just looked at Azriel, his expression unreadable.

He didn't say it.  But Azriel knew. Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.  Either it was about Elain and Lucien...or about Mor and Emerie. Like Azriel would ever do anything to put that in jeopardy. Like Azriel was a jealous child that wouldn't allow Mor to be happy on her own terms. Like...

Azriel ignored the sharp pang of hurt that shot through him at Rhys's look.

Still it was better than looking at Mor…he couldn’t bear to look at Mor. 

 Didn't want to look at Mor, in her usual bright red, skin baring dress, that clung to all her curves...didn't want to look at the female he had spent centuries in love with even when he had known that she was never going to return his affections...it hadn't helped him. He had still been in love with her.

And he had still hoped...hoped against all hope that maybe...maybe there would be a time where she would return his affection...that maybe there would be a time where...

But there wouldn't. He knew. He knew. And he had still been in love with her.

Would have given damn near anything for her attention, for that broad smile on her face to be directed in his direction...would have given anything for her to bound over to his bedside and envelope him in her arms...to feel her soft skin against his as she hugged him fiercely, cinnamon and citrus enveloping him.

Now...now it felt like somebody was pouring salt into a gaping wound. Now it felt as painful as the fire and oil on his hands had. She was flaying him alive and she wasn’t even aware that she was hurting him. 

"How are you feeling, Az?" Mor's voice was gentle, concerned. He knew it was genuine, knew that Mor really cared about him. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when his heart was bleeding out just from the sound of her voice.

"Fine," he answered, his voice flat. "Nothing that sleep won't fix," he promised her, even as her hands fluttered around him as she sat down on his bedside...

She was so close. He could reach out and touch her, could feel the soft fabric of her dress against his fingertips. He clenched his fists, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.

But he couldn't help it. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He could see the concern there, the worry. He felt a pang of guilt for putting that look on her face. He didn't want to cause her any distress. 

"I'm just glad you are feeling better," Mor sighed, gently patting his arm. "You had us all worried for a moment there," she admitted softly.

Even just the touch of her hand felt like she was branding him. He wanted to flinch away and forced himself no to.

It was like a bittersweet poison, the way she touched him. It was so familiar, so comforting. But it was also so painful, a reminder of what he could never have.

He looked away, staring down at his hands. They were shaking, just a little. He clasped them together, the monstrous scars that covered them, standing out starkly.

The shadows trembled around him, pulling nearer, growing darker and Mor watched them with a raised eyebrow. "Worried, are they?" she teased him slightly.

*You are fine, Master,* the shadows promised him. *No more fire,* they promised him fiercely. But it didn’t help. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice cracking.

Mor seemed to sense his discomfort and stood up, her hand slipping from his arm. "Just rest and get better soon, alright?" she said softly, taking a step back.

"Thank you," he thanked her, his voice hoarse.

He risked a glance up at her, just a quick look. Her face was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he had to look away again. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"We should let him rest, Mor," Rhys said, giving Azriel another look.

"Right, right," Mor agreed, already turning towards the door. "Rest up, Az," she said again, giving him one last smile as she disappeared out the door.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as she left the room. 

Gone. Thank the cauldron. He couldn't take much more of her presence, not right now. 

He didn't even want to know why Rhys had accompanied her. Probably because he was worried that Azriel wasn't going to behave.

What was he supposed to do instead? Tell Mor about how much she had hurt him over the centuries? How she had given him jut enough scraps of her affection to make him yearn for more but never telling him that she didn’t love him like that? 

He wasn’t going to do that. 

He didn't want to look at Rhys right now, didn't want to face the scrutiny of his high lord's gaze. He just wanted to be left alone.

He knew that Rhys was watching him, that the male wanted to say something. But Azriel didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the lecture, the warning. He just wanted to be left alone.

The room fell silent, except for the sound of his own breathing. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. Maybe if he just pretended to sleep, Rhys would leave him alone.

"He's tired. You should let him sleep," Nesta said flatly.

Leave it to Nesta to tell Rhys to stuff it, he reflected weakly. He heard Rhys sigh, but he kept his eyes closed. And after a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps leaving the room.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. 

Alone. Safe. Mostly at least. 

Life went on. It always did.

The exhaustion went away after a few days... he caught up on Paperwork in the meantime. He sent the shadows off to find him one information or other and they didn't even bitch to him that badly, which told him that even they felt bad for him.

Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.

So he did. He behaved.

He did his job. He did everything Rhys could possibly want from his spymaster. 

He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight. He did his job and he trained and he did everyhting that was expected off him. 

And then he hadn’t tortured himself enough… and he went to visit Rosehall.

Where his mother lived.

Under the Mountains had it’s own kind consequences. This was one of them: His mother didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. 

50 years without him...and his mother had made herself a new family. A family that he wasn’t welcome in. A family that she wanted him nowhere near. He couldn’t fault her for it. Not at all.

She had been half a child when she had had him and it hadn’t been by choice.

So who could blame her for making a new family with people that weren’t as fucked up in the head as he was? Not Azriel.

Azriel didn’t blame her at all. Azriel left her in peace. He didn't reach out. He made sure that she was fine, that she had enough money to never worry about it and otherwise dissappeared from her life. 

His shadows kept an eye on her…He shored up the wards around Rosehall and caught a glimpse of her. And then he left it at that. She looked happy. That’s all he cared about.

Happy and safe and…she didn’t need him. She didn’t want him around her either, and he could understand that too.

And still, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. 

But 

*You know the rules,* he told the shadows quietly. *You don’t need to report to me about her anymore. Keep an eye on her and only tell me if she is in danger or hurt.*

*Yes, Master,* they agreed readily. 

So he went back to the House of Wind. Back to Velaris…Back to work. 

He went back to his routine, back to his duties, back to his mask of indifference. He hid the pain behind his usual stoic facade, only letting his shadows know how much it hurt. He threw himself into his work, using it as a way to distract himself from his own loneliness.

And when he wasn't working, he would spend hours and hours in the training ring in the House of Wind, working himself to exhaustion. Anything to try and drown out the ache in his heart.

For gods sake, he even attended Elain and Lucien’s mating ceremony. And gifted them an appropriate gift. He behaved just like Rhys wanted him too.

He even summoned up a smile for them on their special day, hiding his own pain behind a mask of false happiness. He congratulated them both, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of Elain's beaming face. But he didn’t let it show. He behaved. Like Rhys wanted him too.

He stayed for the whole thing. Stayed for the dancing, stayed for the feast. Stayed until he could physically take it no more. And then he had retreated to that training ring again, beating his pain and loneliness out on whatever dummy he could find.

He was so tired. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending. Tired of pretending like nothing was wrong. He wanted nothing more than to just scream and rage and shout and cry. But he didn’t. He held it all in. Bottled it up like he was so good at doing.

He was in the bathtub, sluicing off the sweat he was drenched in…shaking off his wings just because he could move them however he wanted to

*You should go out, Master,* the shadows suggested seriously. *Go out and find a female.*

He just snorted. *Not interested,* he sniped back harshly. *I am not getting my heart broken again.*

Everybody could just fuck off and leave him alone. Even when he was aching…aching for somebody in his life that loved him. For whom he could be everything. Somebody he could dote on. Somebody that wanted his attention, that wanted his love…that would like his ruined hands on their body and wasn’t paid to simply acccept it. 

*You could let us pick her!* the shadows suggested brightly.

His eyes snapped back open and he glared at the shadows swirling around the room. *Absolutely not,* he said firmly. *I mean it, you stay out of it.*

*We can’t do a worse job than you do,* they sniped at him. *Neither The Seer nor The Morrigan would have suited you at all.*

*Excuse me?!* 

*You heard us, Master,* the shadows said, sounding far too smug for their own good. *And you know it.*

Azriel just glared at them, feeling his temper start to rise. *I know I wasn’t good enough for them,* he snapped. *You don’t need to tell me that.*

*You think you weren’t good enough for them?!* The shadows asked him incredulously.

*They deserve better. So much better than me,* he said quietly. "I'm not good enough for either of them. Never was.*

What was he, after all? An Illyrian bastard? A monster? Either? Both? 

He had never said it out loud before, not even to himself. But in that moment, lying in the water, his heart so raw and exposed, he couldn't help but speak the truth that he had always known but never admitted to himself. "I'm not good enough for either of them," he repeated softly, the weight of his words settling heavily on his chest.

He knew it was true. Mor was a golden ray of light, the embodiment of beauty and grace. Elain was sweet and gentle and kind, a pure soul in a sea of darkness. 

And what was he? Damaged. Broken. Scarred. Inside and out.

He had done unspeakable things, things that would haunt his nightmares for centuries to come. He was nothing compared to them. He was darkness, they were light. And they deserved better than him, far better than him.

Even if he had loved Mor with every fiber of his being, even if he had yearned for her with every beat of his heart, even if he had dreamed of her every night, it didn't matter. It had never mattered. Because he wasn't good enough for her. And he never would be.

He wasn’t good enough for Elain. The mother hadn’t thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Both of his brother had been gifted with a mating bond, but not him. That should tell him everything he needed to know abotu the state of his own soul. 

So why…why should he even try anymore. 

Why shouldn’t he just stew in his own misery, alone and heartbroken and a monster and expect everybody to just leave him alone? There was no point of putting himself out there again. There was nothing out there for him. Nothing but more pain.​​

So he closed his eyes again, sinking lower into the water, letting the warmth soothe his aching muscles. He let out a long sigh, his mind already racing with thoughts of his next missions, his next assignments. Because that was all that really mattered now. His job. His duties. His responsibilities. That was all he had left.

Behave. That’s all he was good for. 

*Alright, that’s fucking enough,* the shadows snapped. *You are not letting The High Lord talk to you like that any longer, Master.*

Azriel was so surprised by their fucking vehemence that he could just stare at them. 

*The Morrigan used you for centuries to make herself feel better about herself,* the shadows snapped. *She used the feelings you had for her and that she was very much aware of to strangle you and keep you in line.*

Azriel swallowed. He knew they were right. He knew that Mor had used his feelings for her for a long time. She had led him on, given him false hope, only to yank it away time and time again. It had been a painful cycle, one that had left him feeling used and broken and worthless.

*She could have stopped at any time but she never did,* the shadows hissed. *But instead she hurt you on purpose. Instead of turning you down, she slept with other males to show you that you would never have her!*

Azriel felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Mor had flaunted her other lovers in front of him, making it clear that he would never be enough for her. She had used his devotion to her as a weapon against him, wielding it whenever it suited her needs. And he had let her. He had been foolish, desperate enough to cling onto any scrap of affection she might throw his way.

*And The Seer?! Granted she has never done that, but her feelings for you weren’t particular deep when she replaced you on her affections with The Fox as soon as you weren’t available anymore! If she had cared, truly cared, she would have thought about what happened during Winter Solstice,* the shadows snapped.

*And The High Lord? Don’t even let us get started on him,* the shadows snapped. *You haven’t even done anything since that Winter Solstice, and he keeps behaving like some kind of despotic Overlord, worried that his orders won’t be followed. If you wanted to punch him in the face, you probably had every right to it,* they mumbled.

Azriel couldn’t help but snort. 

*You deserve better, Master,* The shadows told him fiercely. *You deserve somebody that loves you.* 

. He wanted to believe the shadows. He wanted to believe that he was good enough, that he deserved more. But the scars on his body and the memories in his mind told him otherwise. He had done terrible things, things that he could never undo. How could someone like that be good enough for anyone?

*Alright,* he finally agreed weakly. *Find me a house,* he told the shadows, as he closed his eyes.

*A house? What kind of house?* the shadows gave back, sounding surprised.

*A house,* he repeated. *A home. Somewhere in Velaris. Find me a home.* Something that could just be his.

A home. The idea sent a flutter through his stomach. He had never…never truly had a home. Had something that could just be his and nobody else’s. Just…a place that was his, where he could be whoever he wanted, where he was accepted and loved...it was appealing. Maybe even more than just appealing.

He closed his eyes, picturing it in his mind. A cozy little house, just large enough for himself. Warm and cozy and filled with light.

*That’s what a male needs to take a wife after all, right?* He asked, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Was that what he should want? What he was supposed to want? He had never really thought about getting married before. But now, at the mention of it, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. A wife...a family...love and companionship. It all sounded so…so nice.

*You want to get married, Master?* the shadows asked curioulsy. *To whom?*

*You pick,* he told the shadows. They swarmed out in pure excitment. Azriel couldn’t even remmeebr the last time they had been so excited. 

He couldn't help but chuckle at their reaction. Maybe they would do a better job than him. At least they could probably sieve out females that were in a romantic relationship or preferred females themselves. 

*Find me somebody that I could make happy. Somebody that….Somebody that could want me.* Some long-suffering female for whom Azriel could maybe try to be enough. Somebody that would love him.

*What should she look like?* they asked seriously.

*I don’t care. Find me somebody that loves me and she’ll be the most beautiful female to me anyway.*

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 Part 1

Next Chapter.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: After a close game and a couple bad decisions, the media has pitted you and Paige against each other. When you finally meet off the court you’re not sure what to expect…

A/n: got many requests for some sort of rival player type-thing!!! I combined some ideas to please the masses :) there will be more parts obv. This chap is pretty long so sorry for that!!

___________________________________________________________

“This question here is for Paige again. Now, is there anything you have to say about the little altercation near the end of the third quarter with number 3 on USC? it was quite a tense moment!”

The blonde smirks to herself, her hand rubbing her forehead. “There ain’t much to say. I went for the ball and obviously she did too. I’m not tryna give anything up, I jus personally think I got it first but that doesn’t matter anymore.” She shrugs. “Thas it.”

There’s a pause for a moment, before she opens her mouth again. “I will say though, ion have much patience for players who can’t control their language.”

Her teammates share looks at this comment, and the reporters attempt to press further but Geno ensures Paige doesn’t talk for the rest of the press conference.

“(Name) how many times have you watched this fuckin video.” JuJu comes up from behind you, scaring the shit out of you and snapping you back to reality.

“I haven’t watched it that much.” You roll your eyes. “I just…never mind.”

“It’s time to move on, shit like this happens. Jus gotta keep on that grind.” She says, sitting down beside you. Despite being a freshman, Juju was naturally mature. You and her had become a popular junior/freshman duo both on and off the court. You pushed her harder and she kept you on your toes.

“I’m moved on.” You huff.

“No you’re not…look at yo hands gripping your phone.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.

The issue wasn’t the prolonged tussle for the ball when your team played UConn, it wasn’t Paige barely regarding you, or her shading the occasional curse you’d let slip during a game. These things all fuelled what really was bothering you. The way you responded.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER, POST UCONN GAME

“Where’s JuJu? Prolly eating or something she’s lowkey a big back.”

You laugh at your roommates response to the question. It had been a weird couple of days since USC faced UConn, usually there wasn’t a lot of buzz around women’s college games but this year was different. The media was all up on everyone, especially UConn since Paige returned in better health for her senior year. You decided to go live to have some fun and interact with your viewers, even though your mind was elsewhere.

“What were your thoughts on how you guys played Connecticut?” You read aloud from the chat. “Um, they’re great. I mean it was pretty close. Me and the girls did what we could and we’re gonna kill it next year, so.” You say, perfectly passive and normal. In your head you were furious at how close the game had been, but there was nothing you could do.

Near the end of the third quarter, you and Paige had a little tussle for possession of the ball. You could’ve sworn you’d gotten it before pale skinned hands darted out for the grab, almost stealing it from you before your instincts kicked in and managed your grip. You vividly remember the yells from teammates, coaches and the stands as you and Paige momentarily wrestled for the ball, her tongue sticking out between her lips and her eyes determined before number 3 on her team tore her away.

Grazing your hand against hers at the end of the game was humiliating, and she was undoubtedly looking forward to it; holding your fingers a moment too long before letting out the most agitating, self-fulfilled “good game” with a smile that would’ve warranted a punch to her teeth had you not been on camera.

You didn’t bother to smile back, but muttered a perfectly timed “bitch” just as her hand let go of yours. Nobody heard it except you and her, and the subtle change in expression from haughty to straight faced was a beautiful sight for sore eyes.

“They keep asking about the thing with Paige.” Your roomie reads, and you shove her. “Bro why’d you say that out loud…now I have to address it.” You whisper to her, annoyed. She wasn’t on the team, and didn’t think about things like that.

She shoots an apologetic look, and you decide to act like nothing happened. The damage is done though, because now all the comments are about Paige.

“You handled the press good after.”

“If I was you I would’ve taken it off the court ngl”

“You were wrong for that!”

“What happened with Paige???”

“The way she was looking at u after….mm”

“Did you see what she said on the panel?”

Scanning through the various questions you found it harder and harder to not think about it. Basketball is a contact sport, things like a fight for the ball weren’t rare. Sure it was a little aggressive, but nothing you weren’t ready for. Paige seemed ready herself, her hands gripping the already-in-your-grasp ball, her eyes shooting you the coldest look they could muster. You’d already seen edits of her all over social media, tousling with you for a moment before being dragged off by Aaliyah.

JuJu walks into your dorm and sits next to you, reading the comments as well. She slightly shakes her head at all the mentions of Paige, but greets the chat nevertheless.

Fuck it. It’s late night, you’ve been getting annoyed by all of this attention on Paige and you, and people weren’t gonna forget about it anytime soon. One comment won’t hurt.

“Did I see what Paige said on the panel?” You read out loud. JuJu shoots you a look. “Yeah…I did. ” You say, suspicious as possible. “Ion know…i jus don’t have much patience for that swiper no swiping shihhh…..stuff.” You mock Paige, then catch yourself before fully saying shit. Two digs at the blonde at UConn in one sentence, one for her statement and the other for her criticism on your swearing.

You, your roommate and JuJu all look at each other for what seems like an eternity before bursting into an explosion of laughter. You were just being petty, it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.

It kinda was.

PRESENT TIME

You’ve always loved east-coast America. It has a different kind of feel, especially during spring. The weather was getting hotter and everyone is hyped for summer break, at least those without classes. You and some of your teammates were going on a little Big East road trip, and of course the east meant places like New York, Michigan, Boston, Rhode Island, Connecticut.

God, you weren’t ready for Connecticut. The media was really eating you and Paige’s (non-existent) beef up, and you wondered if it would translate into real life. What was worse was that you had a friend who went to UConn who you were seeing for sure.

“I am not coming to your school.” You said hastily over the phone.

“Chill.” Elaine, your friend responded. “Nobody wants you here anyways.”

“Shuttuppppp it’s not funny.” You whine, knowing she was joking but hoping there was no truth in the statement. You could handle the smoke of a mini rivalry, but confrontation was just awkward.

“Just be ready. The minute you’re in town let me know, we can go to my favourite bar.” She laughs.

“Got it.” You respond happily. You were gonna have a fun night out, things were gonna be chill. You’d maybe have a drink…maybe get hammered. It was gonna be good.

-

“You should go live.”

“No fucking way.” You shake your head. The bar was crowded, but nice. You understand why your friend wanted to take you.

“Are most of these people UConn kids?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Elaine responds, looking around. “This is like the Storrs hangout spot on a Friday night. Anyways, I’ve missed seeing your lives.”

“I know, I know.” You rub your head. “I literally can’t though. Like, I’m on a social media ban. Goddd, after that last live you don’t get how much shit I got.”

“I thought it was funny!” She says, and you smile. “Oh my god (Name), did you see her tweet after.”

“BYE.” you cover your face, laughing. A couple hours after the live, Paige had tweeted some sort of passive aggressive very targeted thing about how God has her back when people give her a hard time or something like that. You’d almost died when it showed on your TL.

“Have you seen all the edits comparing me n her.” You manage to get out between laughs. Sure, you didn’t have the spectacular reputation Paige did. The girl had started her college career stronger then literally everyone else, and she was top pick to begin with. Her return to the court was well anticipated, even by you.

Still despite that, you had a certain sparkle in game. You played flashy, but you could back it up. Your freshman year you were very much an underdog, a stark difference from Paige, but your sophomore year had been very different, and this year as a junior you were getting recognition that almost gave you whiplash. Your talent was undoubted.

“I think both of you guys are being extra careful on socials now.” Elaine says. “I mean Paige is pretty active, but when they go live the minute your name is brought up, which it always is, she like…mysteriously disappears from view. It’s actually funny.”

“Whatever.” You say, taking a swig of your drink. “As funny as it is, I’m tired of all this shit, it’s unnecessary. Let’s forget about her.”

Elaine lets out a cough, before covering her face. “Pfft. Um, yeah. Let’s forget about it.”

“What….what is it?” You say, raising an eyebrow. Your friends eyes are stuck behind you. When you turn on the barstool as conspicuously as possible, you feel your stomach physically lurch.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“We have great luck.” Elaine muffles a laugh.

You spin back towards her, talking through bared teeth. “You brought me to Storrs’s most popular bar on a Friday night…Storrs…fuck. That’s their campus? Seriously??!”

“Don’t be mad.” She sheepishly smiles. “I don’t pay that much attention to them…I didn’t think it through.”

“Boo, you whore. Even I know they’re like, bar-fiends.” You grumble, putting your head down. “God, just put your head down, cover me, something. I’m not tryna do this right now.”

Covering your eyes and keeping your back to the group, you ask. “How many of them are here. Tell me exactly who.”

“Umm, I don’t know all of them.” She says.

“Bitch just tell me…I swear to god.” You sneer, casually attempting to turn, discreetly letting your eyes graze the masses before they meet a pair of blue ones.

Shit.

Her eyes hold yours for a moment too long. Her hair is down instead of her signature ponytail and braids. She’s dressed casually, and posed confidently. Her expression is one of surprise…then amusement…and then something you can’t quite recognize. When her friends start to follow her gaze, you finally turn away.

“Elaine, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. You always say you can handle the smoke, right?”

“Yeah when I’m in California I can…not when I’m in a UConn infested bar with Paige fucking Bueckers and her cult staring me down.”

“They’re really staring. Oh, KK just pointed at you.” Elaine says, looking at them obviously. You fix your posture and adjust your hair at this.

“Are they like…coming over?”

“Yep.” She murmurs under her breath, indicating they’re close.

“Umm, hey.” A voice says from behind you. It’s low, almost raspy. You remember it being way more strained and arrogant on the court. In the bar, it was almost attractive.

“Hey.” You say, as cool as possible. Turning to face Paige and her teammates usually wouldn’t have intimidated you, you could hold your ground and you were confident in yourself, but here? On their turf? With none of your own teammates? And a couple drinks in you? Your body was already tingling, and you were terrified you would say something to dig your hole deeper.

“Think I could get a picture?” Paige says. She sounds likes she’s severely forcing herself, arms crossed and drink already half empty despite just entering the bar. Azzi’s face breaks into an amused smirk beside her, and her other friends hang back with giggly expressions.

“A…picture?” You say, confused. The three of you stare at each other for an awkward moment before you break the silence. “Sorry…that was rude of me, my bad. I just wasn’t expecting that.” You laugh. “If you actually want a picture I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.” Paige smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. When she poses by you, her hand just hovers above your waist. She can’t even bring herself to touch you. You give your best smile as Azzi takes the picture on Paige’s phone.

When she shows it to the two of you, you realize why Paige might’ve wanted that picture.

“You’re gonna really shock everyone when you post that.” You say, laughing. Paige’s face finally breaks to a more authentic smirk that sends shivers down your spine. It’s like the one she wore when you two were facing each other on the court. Proud, confident, ready for anything.

“Never let em’ know your next move.” She says, eyes piercing yours.

-

As the night goes on the bar gets more and more busy, you have to yell over the music for Elaine to hear you. You’re not exactly trying to talk to her though, because she’s mostly talking about Paige.

“You know she’s sort of a campus heart-throb right?”

“What??” You yell, although you’ve perfectly heard what she’s said.

“She’s. Hot. Maybe you should flirt with her a little.” Elaine says.

You just shake your head. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Your luck is spectacular for the night, because there are no barstool seats left except one a little too close to Paige, who’s sitting alone and waiting for her drink. You silently curse, but are thankful her team isn’t there too. You sit by her as confidently as possible, avoiding her gaze.

She’s watching you indubitably, noting every move you make. Your posture as you sit, the Polaroid behind your clear phone case, the way your lips move when you ask the bartender for your favourite drink, these are all thinks she seemingly makes note of.

You can’t help but overhear her scoff at your drink choice, to which you finally turn and acknowledge her, raising your eyebrow.

“Out of everything you could’ve ordered you got that?” She says, haughty as ever.

“Not everyone is trying to get white-girl-wasted.” You respond curtly, eyeing her Dirty Shirley.

Paige scoffs. “You don’t talk as big as you do on your lives.”

Shrugging, you respond “Someone asked a question and I answered, simple as that.”

“Ion know bout that one.” She rolls her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re just feining for people to talk bout you.”

This bitch. You internally think, brows furrowed at her statement. “Wouldn’t have even been brought up if you hadn’t let your fatass ego get in the way of your media training during that press conference.” You sneer. “Now that is feining for people to talk..”

“Someone asked a question and I answered.” She smiles, sending a hot flash of anger throughout your body. “Simple as that.”

“You think you’re so smart.” You grumble out, turning your head from her. The sheer arrogance is radiating from her body, it’s annoying you to no end.

“I am.” She says, as if it’s common knowledge. “Plus, I’m not the one who started twisting words. That was you, remember?”

When your drink is finally set in front of you, you make a point to get up from the stool and grab it, sending Paige a steely look. “Good talk, Bueckers.”

“Aye, wait a sec.”

You’re already walking away, taking a big gulp of your drink when she slides off of her stool and catches up, walking beside you. You don’t miss how her eyes flick to your mouth when you wipe it clean, facing her begrudgingly.

“Why’re you even here?” She asks. “Visiting yo girlfriend?”

“Who, Elaine?” You laugh, Elaine being the straightest girl you know. “Why’re you so interested?”

“Wasn’t expecting to see some California girl in Storrs. You sure you weren’t plotting on seeing me?” Paige grins, taking a step towards you. She’s taller then you, and the way she tilts her head downwards when she speaks gives you an unrecognizable feeling that you’re planning to blame on the alcohol.

“I got up close and personal with you once, and it was enough.” You smile, holding her stare. She chews on the straw of her Shirley, her expression both amused and something else.

“Ion think so.” She mumbles.

“You don’t have to think.” You respond, looking her up and down for a moment. It feels like an eternity passes as you two challenge each other, the air gets thicker by the minute and you finally break away from her, walking as confidently as you can, far from where she can see you.

-

You don’t see Paige again after that, presumably because her and her friends went elsewhere. Laying in a hotel room next to your teammates, you can’t help but think about the blonde and how odd your interaction was. She had this way of looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you knew damn well she knew nothing except for how you were on the court. Still, despite how her voice made your skin itch and her mannerisms induced the need for violence, there was something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

As if reading your mind, your phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. You check your notifications to see a sea of messages and a couple more alien ones on Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

paigebueckers tagged you in their story.

jujubballin sent you a story.

jujubballin sent you a message.

kenzie_4bs sent you a story.

kenzie_4bs sent you a message.

You accept Paige’s request and view her story, which features the picture of you and Paige. You sitting and her standing, her hand just hovering above your waist, her face a curt close-mouthed smile and yours wide and genuine. It’s an interesting photo which she’s captioned “Cali meets Connecticut!”

You scoff at her version of being witty, and immediately cringe at the sheer amount of traction the post has gotten already, with at least 50 people in your inbox within the first 15 minutes of the post coming out. The messages range from “The crossover we needed!!” To “Ik you wanted to punch her white-ass” and frankly it was all too much for you. Social media, Connecticut, the messages, Paige.

She seemed to be the main article of stress in your life the past couple weeks and it seemed to smart to keep a distance from her from this point onward.

The girl really knows how to induce that shock factor.

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 3

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary:  You go back to school and you try and make yourself useful

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, misogyny 

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

PART 3

“30 days has September, April, June and November…”

You had set yourself the task today to make yourself a calendar.  Maths had never been your strongest subject in school, but you were excellent at remembering, so you knew the month song off by heart and were mumbling it to yourself as you began digging into your desk draw to retrieve some art supplies.

The decision to make the calendar had hit you last night when you were reading one of your new library books before bed and the return receipt slipped out of the back cover and onto your lap.  Normally, it was the very first thing you retrieved when you got home from the library, making sure to mark the return dates down on your big white board calendar on the fridge.  But you were still getting used an entirely new routine in your new house and you’d completely forgot to look for the slip.

Now that you had it though, you had to make sure you noted down the dates somewhere you could easily see them.  So, with a few pieces of paper, a ruler and some markers, you drew up a calendar for the next few months.  By checking the borrow date on the receipt and counting how many days it had been since your library visit, you managed to figure out what todays date was.  From there, and with the help of that handy month song, you’d managed to fill in the rest of the dates.   

When it was all completed you stepped back to examine your work.  If you were honest with yourself, your lines could have been drawn straighter and your handwriting could have been much, much neater.  But you didn’t have the energy to redo it, so it would have to do.  For now. 

You surveyed your room for someone to put it.  In your old house your calendar was on the fridge, out in the open for everyone to see and help you keep track of.  Here, it needed to be hidden from your Aunties, so that it was your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to make sure you were staying on top of everything.

Everything.

A wave of guilt crashed over you as you remembered all the other things you would keep track of on your calendar.  Now that you were a big girl, you had been helping around the house and you had chores.  You would set the table and help take the cups and plates and spoons out of the dish washer (only Mummy and Daddy could touch the knives).  You would also check for mail every morning and there was a pretty purple watering can you got use to water the flowers in the front garden a couple of times a week.

But you didn’t do any of that here at your Aunties house.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Part of you worried that your Aunties didn’t trust you enough to ask you to help out around the house.  Perhaps they thought you weren’t smart enough or strong enough or big enough to lend a hand.  Or maybe they were secretly mad that you hadn’t insisted on helping and were keeping a top-secret list of all the times you didn’t help out and they would present it to you on a big, long scroll on the day they kicked you out their house.

You shuddered at the thought of that.  That was a day you thought about often.  You didn’t know how many days or weeks or months it was until the baby was here, but surely your time here at your Aunties house was running out.  You needed to do everything in your power to be good until then so that they didn’t kick you out any sooner.  

That night before tea, you made sure to wash your hands extra good before heading into the kitchen where your Aunty Lessi was cooking.  

“Aunty Lessi, could I set the table?”

“Oh sure!  If you’d like.  Just give me a moment and I’ll show you where everything is.”

You grinned in silent satisfaction, glad that it seemed like your Aunty wasn’t outright opposed to you proving your worth.  After your Aunty Lessi finished with whatever she was stirring on the stove, she led you over to various cupboards and drawers and pointed out where the placemats, plates and cutlery lived.  Whilst there were a few plastic cups in the same cupboard as the plates for you to use, the glasses your Aunties drank out of were on a higher shelf that were too high for you to reach.

“Don’t worry about those, I can grab them” she insisted.

“I could get a chair or something to stand on?”

“Don’t be silly, Bun Bun.  I’ll get them.  Thank you for getting everything else though.”

Silly. Silly. Silly.

Once you were all sat down for dinner, you watched your Aunty Lessi spin spaghetti around her fork before you took a deep breath in and began.

“Did I do okay at setting the table?”

“You did a great job, Bunny!” Your Aunty Leah was smiling big and bright at you.  She had a bit of sauce on her chin, but you thought it would be rude to tell her.

“Do you think I could do it every night?” you asked.

“Uhh… I mean, if you want to, sure.”

Victory.  One chore to add to the calendar.

“What about the post?  Can I be in charge of checking that too? Does it come in the mornings?”

You observed as your Aunties caught eyes with each other across the table, seeming to have a silent conversation.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do that if you like,” Aunty Lessi nodded.

“Great!  And I can help empty the dishwasher.  No knives of course, but I can do spoons and plates and bowls and cups and stuff.  And maybe I can water some of your flowers, or all of them?  Or I can learn how to do other stuff too.  Like I could figure out how to do the laundry or clean the bathrooms or anything you want really…”

You hadn’t really realised, but you had pulled your knees up to your chest as your rant had gone on.  Your head was now resting on top of them as you looked eagerly between your Aunties, waiting for their response.  They were doing the silent conversation thing again.

“You don’t need to do all those things sweetheart.  We appreciate you offering, but maybe we’ll wait until you’re a bit older to do things like the laundry and stuff, yeah?” your Aunty Lessi responded.

You felt your stomach drop.  Your Aunty Lessi’s voice was kind, but you knew what her words meant.  They didn’t think you were big enough to help.

“How about we start off with setting the table for tea and checking the mail?  You’re still just settling in here, so we don’t wanna overload you with too much stuff to remember to do.”

--

It may have been bright and sunny outside, but today was a day you had been absolutely dreading.  You had decided to hang your calendar on the back of your bedroom door so that nobody but you would see it, and you had made sure to mark this day with a bright red circle and big a sad face.  Today was the day you were going back to school. 

You weren’t sure how it was decided or who decided, but you’d had a couple of weeks away from school after the fire and now it was time to go back.

You had only been back at school for 3 weeks of the new school year before the fire happened, so your parents had only just bought you brand-new dresses and shoes to replace the previous ones you’d outgrown.  Your pencil case had been filled with fresh crayons and sharp pencils, and you’d only just put a really cool new bunny sticker that your Uncle Gio had given you on your lunchbox.  But now, you had to start all over again.

So today, as you sat in front office with your Aunties, you were wearing a brand-new school dress and shoes and socks and Aunty Lessi had done your hair in a pretty braid with some pretty ribbons.  You also had a brand-new backpack and lunch box and pencil case, and you even had a brand-new iPad in a shiny purple case. 

In theory, you were all set to go.

But just under the surface, just beneath the layer of hairspray and the stiff gingham fabric, you were absolutely dreading heading back to the big noisy classroom and scary, sticky playgrounds.

You didn’t have heaps of friends at school like most of the other kids seemed to have.  You did have one good friend though.  Nora.  She also really liked to read and was super into comic books and superheros.  You didn’t really understand why she liked them, but you were more than happy to listen to her when she wanted to tell you all about them.  You would then tell her some cool bunny facts in return. 

This year the school librarian, Mr Webster, had let you both work on a big jigsaw puzzle every lunchtime.  He kept it safe and flat on a special piece of wood that he hid on top of his bookshelf in his office when you weren’t working on it.  It was a really, really big puzzle with loads more pieces than any other puzzle either of you had ever done before.  You were both determined to finish it before Christmas, but you weren’t sure if Nora had kept going while you were away.  You hoped she had but you also secretly hoped there was still some pieces left for you to do.  

Unlike previous years, Nora wasn’t in your class this year.  You were in Mrs Green’s class, and she was in Miss Roberts’ class.  You’d both written a letter to each teacher requesting to be swapped into each other’s class, but it hadn’t worked.  You were stuck alone in the classes you were in, and honestly, you were miserable. 

You see, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any other friends, that didn’t bother you much at all.  It was the fact that a bunch of the other kids seemed to actively dislike you.  In fact, the thing they seemed to like most in the whole world was picking on you.  They called you names and pulled on your hair and threw things at you.  You couldn’r really pinpoint exactly when it all started, but your first and most vivid memory was when Mitchell Timms had snatched your copy of The Worst Witch out of your hands one lunch time.  He threw it in a muddy puddle and stomped on it until all the pages were torn and the words had jumbled together.  When you ran over to try and save the book, a gift you’d received on your latest birthday, Mitchell just laughed at you and called you a “loser weirdo”. 

For the first 3 weeks of school this year, you had been sat next to a boy named Ollie and it had been awful.  He kept bumping your arm on purpose while you were trying to write and had laughed whenever you got frustrated that you had to erase and redo your mistakes.  One time he had even pulled your chair out from underneath you when you went to sit down, leading you to land on your bottom on the floor with a thud.  The whole class had pointed and laughed at you.  You had run out of the classroom and hid under a bench to try and calm yourself down.

When the teacher came to find you, you were curled in a ball, rubbing your Pocket Arthur softly against your cheek.  Pocket Arthur was your school buddy.  When you’d moved up from Reception into Primary School, your parents had bought you a miniature version of Arthur that you could keep tucked away in your pocket.  They said that now that you were going to big school, Arthur could no longer come along with you, but they wanted to make sure you still had a little buddy to always keep you company.  So, he was your Pocket Arthur, or Pockie for short. 

But he died in the fire too.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

So, on the night before you went back to school, you’d searched through your room, trying to find something to fill the big empty space left by Pockie when he died – the pocket of your school dress.  You tried crumpling up a wad of tissues, but the texture of it was all wrong.  Next you tried a balled-up pair of socks, but it felt scratchy when you tried rubbing it against your cheek.  You looked over the stuffies your Aunties had bought you, but they were all far too big to fit in your pocket.    

One of the stuffies caught your eye however as your dug through the little pile of toys.  It was on the bottom of pile, and you hadn’t seen it since you moved here.  It was a lovely and soft grey kangaroo, with pointy ears and a long tail.  You rather liked kangaroos, because while they were a completely different species to bunnies and could only be found in the wild in Australia, they kind of reminded you of really big rabbits.  As you pressed the soft fur to your cheek, something small fell in your lap.  Picking it up, you realised it was a baby kangaroo.  It must have fallen from the big kangaroo’s pouch.  It was perfect.  The perfect size, the perfect feel, the perfect squish.  You rubbed it against your cheek.  Bliss.  Holding it gently in your little hands, you squinted your eyes and ran your thumbs across the soft fur trying to figure out the perfect name for your new pocket pal.  Bailey.  She seemed like a Bailey.

And it was Bailey who you clung to, you hand shoved deep in your pocket, when the Headteacher Mrs Brinley called you all into her office.

You watched as both your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah shook hands with Mrs Brinley and then you all sat down on big uncomfortable chairs across the table from her.  You’d never been in her office before, so you took a moment to look around, noticing a bunch of certificates in big frames on the wall, a huge bookcase full of books and some photos of who you assumed were her family.

“Well, while we were very, very sad to hear about what has happened, we are glad that Y/K is back at school with us.  Hopefully being back in class will help her with getting back to her regular routine and schedule and assist her in feeling more settled.”

Her voice wasn’t unkind, but everything she said always sounded like she’d been rehearsing for it like it was a speech she had to give in front of the whole school.

“We have both of your phone numbers, as well as the number for your workplace, and we will call you should there be any issues.  But I’m sure Y/K will do just fine.”

Your Aunty Leah gently squeezed your hand that wasn’t firmly stuffed in your pocket, clinging onto Bailey for dear life.

“Mrs Green is going to meet you just back out in the front office and she will walk you up to class.  So, unless anyone has any questions, I’ll let you all get to it.”

You all shuffled back out the front office, where your teacher was waiting for you.  Aunty Lessi knelt down and gave you a big cuddle.

“Okay Bunny. You have fun on your first day back, alright?  And if anything goes wrong, or you don’t feel good or you feel sad… you just let your teacher know to call us okay.”

Aunty Leah leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead and stroked your cheek.  “You’ve got everything you need in your backpack, so you’re all set to go.  You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

The walk to your classroom was mostly filled with your teacher telling you about all the things you’d missed while you’d been away from school.  A little bubble of dread was beginning to build in your stomach as you realised all the work you now had to catch up on.  But by lunchtime that bubble had been replaced by a boulder.

Holding your lunch box and book tight to your chest, you looked around the hall for a spare seat.  Normally, you and Nora would sit together to eat your lunch and then go to the library, but to make a bad day even worse Nora was away from school today.  You had spent a solid 5 minutes looking for her, but according to a student in her class she’d had to stay home because she a nasty tummy bug.

The hall was quickly filling up as students grabbed their hot meals or lunch boxes and sat down at their chosen tables.  It quickly became apparent that the only spot left was one on the end of a table filled with some of the children who didn’t like you.  You’d spent so long looking for Nora, you’d been left with no other option.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

With a deep breath, you headed over to the table.  You sat quietly in the seat, hoping you would go unnoticed.

You didn’t.

“Why you sitting with us, Y/K?  Isn’t there anyone else you can sit with?” Jessica asked as you unzipped your lunch box.  You just shook your head in response.  A chorus of grumbles followed from the rest of the kids sitting at the table.

“Eww yuck, why does she have to sit with us?”  

“Where’s her weirdo friend?”

“Maybe she can sit on the floor instead.”

You just tried to tune them out, grabbing a sandwich out of your lunch box to munch on.  Your first bite was interrupted when the boy sitting beside you, Max, nudged you.

“Hey, were those your new Mums who brought you into school today?”

You hastily swallowed your sandwich, wanting to explain. “They’re my-” It was no use.  The group quickly began announcing their thoughts on the matter before you had a chance to correct them.

“Two Mums?  How can someone have TWO Mums?  That’s not right.”

“Yeah, my Dad says that it’s disgusting when two boys or two girls are married or kiss and stuff!”

“Oh yeah, like, have you ever saw two lads kiss? It’s weird!”

“I saw two ladies kissing when my Pop took me to the football last week.  He said they were going straight to hell!”

“As if she wasn’t weird enough, now she’s got two Mums too!”

Something inside you snapped, and you found yourself with your fists clenched and your cheeks red, Bailey long forgotten in your pocket.

“Yeah, well, they’re not my Mums, they’re my Aunties.  And they’re really nice and really clever and super cool.  And they play football for England, and and for the red and white club with the cannon!  And my Aunty Leah is the captain and everything! So that’s cooler than any of your families, ever!”

There was a short silence before they all started laughing.

“Girl’s football!  That doesn’t count!”

“That’s not real football!”

“Arsenal!  Pfffft.”

“I can’t wait to tell my Dad about this.”

“One of them looked pregnant when I saw them outside the office.  There’s no way they let her play like that!”

“That’s why they shouldn’t let girls play!”

“Wait, how is she having a baby if there’s no Daddy to put the baby in her?”

Whilst the rest of the comments had begun to muddle together and fade into the background as you tuned them all out, this last one pierced through.  Your head shot back in the direction of Jessica, the girl who had asked the question.  She was looking straight at you with her eyes squinted, twirling a strand of her hair around her pointer finger.

You hadn’t ever stopped to think about this.  To be honest you’d never really been interested in where babies came from.  You knew that whilst it varied from breed to breed, bunnies were pregnant for an average of 31 days and had litters of babies.  You also knew that humans usually only had one baby at a time and they were pregnant for around 9 months.  But you didn’t know how either bunnies or humans became pregnant.  Honestly, you were stumped.

“Guess you didn’t learn that in any of your stupid books, huh? Loser.”

[chaotic-archaeologist]

https://nypost.com/2024/08/28/world-news/boy-4-accidentally-smashes-bronze-age-jar-that-was-at-least-3500-years-old/

Your thoughts?

Personally, I'm kinda sick of museums being required to cater to kids so much. If you're going to do this open air exhibit, kids who don't know how to keep their hands to themselves just shouldn't be allowed in. The glass is there for this very reason.

Actually, I'm with the museum on this one. Is it unfortunate that the vase was broken? Yes. Was the vase a valuable piece of the past? Also yes. But I think the museum did something very cool by not having the artifacts behind glass and are handling this with good grace and the sense to make this a learning opportunity.

Sometimes we overlook the fact that museums often attempt to arrest or freeze artifacts in time. They are kept in controlled conditions to prevent them from deteriorating and even treated to reverse damage. Many things on display on museums are elevated beyond their original value, alienated from their original purpose, and closed off from interaction.

It's incredible that this jar survived as long as it did—and its age is what makes it special—but at the end of the day, it is still a jar. It has now experienced the thing that happens to pretty much every jar that has been or will be. After all, decay is an extant form of life. (If you want to read a very well written and interesting take on decay and archaeology, check out this article by Caitlin DeSilvey.)

The article I linked above provides some important context and the update that the museum is planning on using this as an opportunity to teach about the conservation process. The jar's story is not over; it is being pieced back together and in this next chapter in its life it will be able to tell two stories: one of its life and the other of its rebirth. The museum's approach embraces that, exactly like the Japanese art of Kintsugi.

I also agree with the museum's decision not to punish the child or his family. Things go wrong in museums all the time despite their highly controlled environments, and this is why they have artifacts insured. Sometimes the thing that happens is a child, and by and large museums do not seek damages.

I would encourage you to rethink your stance on museums and children. Museums are for everyone. Children have a right to experience museums and what they have to offer just like anyone else. There are also many studies that discuss how going to museums benefits children.

In this case, perhaps the exhibit design was slightly flawed, but the four year old boy accidentally knocked the jar over because he was curious about what was inside and wanted to investigate. Curiosity is exactly what museums should be encouraging. In an ideal world that curiosity would have been channeled into some other kind of engagement, but the folks who work in museums have a lot on their plates and cannot plan everything perfectly all the time. Even if they could, they often do not have the resources to do so.

Finally, the AP article mentions that the boy and his family were visiting the museum to get away from Hezbollah rocket fire. Regardless of your opinions on the current conflict, everyone deserves to have a safe place to exist. That museums can serve as those spaces is an honor.

I commend the Hecht Museum and the people working there. They 1) successfully provided a place of learning and refuge, 2) opted not for a punitive approach—which is often the default Western model for justice—but a compassionate one, and 3) are using this twist of fate to create programming that will further engage the public.

@museeeuuuum and @museum-spaces would you care to comment?

-Reid

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (1)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: two, three, four, five

Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)

Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting

A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).

It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.

She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?

(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.

No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.

No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.

However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.

And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.

How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them?  Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.

"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh… Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.

Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.

''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.” The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.

''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?’’

Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so… innocent.  She expected threats with knives, to be honest.

And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.

''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too.  ’’I’ve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moron…’’ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. It’s incredible.

Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.

She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.

He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.

If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.

''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.’’ The lights go out and it’s then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?”

How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.

Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.

''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. I’m gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal and…’’ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''

Fuck. Was it that obvious?

''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because you’re a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."

She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.

In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and… she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.

"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."

Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"

"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"

She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.

In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.

Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesn’t need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide. 

Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?

"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something she’d call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesn’t find it/.

Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.

Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or that’s the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.

"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.

Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.

However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? You’re the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.

Adrenaline, probably.

"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.

Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.

Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.

"See you later, love."

[magics-neptunes-things]

Collide (1)

Hello everyone!

Here we are finally in the series I talk about a few days ago. After the votes you chose Leah, but I might have kept some ideas for Alessia afterwards.

I have the beginning of the story and the end, but I have not yet decided exactly what would happen in the middle, so I am unable to tell you how many chapters there will be in this story.

I hope you will like it and as usual, I gladly take your comments, requests and suggestions :) Don’t hesitate to write to me.

Happy reading!

World count : 4.8k

TW : Mention of breaking up and angst. I think nothing else but if you notice something please let me know!

PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

The news of your transfer to Arsenal was like a little bomb in the football world. You were on the verge of another contract extension with Manchester City when the London club contacted your agent, offering you a contract that you couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, you thought about it long before accepting. You asked for the advice of your parents and friends footballers perhaps a little more experienced than you. Including Ingrid Engen, one of your best friends since you started playing on the Norwegian national team.

After weighing the pros and cons, you decided to accept and say goodbye to Manchester City. Some things will obviously miss you. Starting with some of your teammates that you consider your friends and who seemed really saddened by your departure.

You quickly got along with Laia Aleixandri and Leila Ouahabi, the spanish womens taking you under their wing just arrived in Manchester. They made your life easier and helped you include yourself in the club much more easily than you could have hoped. Leaving your home country at almost 18 wasn’t easy, but if you wanted to continue to follow your dreams, you really had no choice. Norwegian football being less in the spotlight, when you had the first proposal from an English club, you didn’t hesitate a single second. Your parents and relatives encouraged you to accept this offer as well.

Your life in Manchester has been pleasant and you can’t help but be a little nervous about moving to a new city. With other people, other places… In short, to start almost from the beggining. The only thing that has changed between your settlement between Manchester and London is that you have undoubtedly developed your athletic abilities and skills in all areas necessary to be able to play football properly.

Your contract was signed just after the end of the World Cup, so you were the last to announced at Arsenal. This didn’t allow you to find an apartment in time and that is why you find yourself in a hotel room for your first nights in London. It’s a little strange, but you’d rather that than take an apartment that wouldn’t suit you. It’s important for you to really feel at home when you cross the threshold of your door and you haven’t found the one who gave you this impression in those you have visited for the moment.

You only have a few things with you at the moment, all your furniture is stored in Laia’s garage in Manchester, ready to be sent as soon as you find what suits you. Very soon, let’s hope.

********

It’s a little nervous that you leave the Uber that accompanies you to the Arsenal training center for your first day under the colors of the club. You have already made the promotional photos, so you have already met several people belonging to the staff. You’ve already had a meeting with Jonas, but you haven’t met a lot of people officially when it comes to the players.

Last night, Alessia Russo contacted you via Instagram (you didn’t even realize she was following you on social media) and offered to wait for you at the entrance to make your way together. You quickly accepted, even if you also quickly understood that it was for you more than for her. Alessia knows a lot of people on the team, unlike you. But the gesture made you happy. Alessia having played at Manchester United while you were playing at Manchester City, you might have had a bad connection with her, being clubs enemy, but that’s not the case. Leila and Laia always took you with them when they were going out with Ona and her friends and that’s how you met Alessia. From saying you’re friends with her there’s a world, but you appreciate the blonde’s personality.

Alessia is already waiting for you when you arrive and you smile at her when you reach her height.

"Hi" you say with a slight smile, responding willingly to her embrace.

"Nervous?" asks the blonde, glancing at you.

You answer with a simple grunt that makes her laugh, before you go to the conference room where you meet the rest of the team. She asks you about your Summer and you ask questions back, learning that she went in her family in Italy.

Several of your teammates are already present when you enter the room, including Jonas who greets you both with a big smile. You find yourself following Alessia around like a lost puppy in the room, but she doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she introduces you to people she already knows.

You’ve come across some of them on football fields in previous games, but aside from a few words exchanged with them, there’s never been anything more. You talk to Laia Codina, whom Laia and Leila described as an adorable girl, when a new trio arrives in the room. Lia, Leah and Katie.

"Katie terrifies me" Alessia jokes in your ear before Leah spots her and leads the other two in your direction.

"Do you know Y/N?" Alessia tells Leah after they greet each other with an embrace.

"Not really" Leah replies with a smile. "Welcome to Arsenal!"

"Thank you very much"

When your eyes meet, you feel a wave of shivers running through your entire body. Nothing to do with the terror that Katie can inspire in Alessia, but what it can mean does intrigue you no less. But you quickly recover, greeting all three. You realize too that Leah’s embrace lasts a few seconds longer than the others, her hand dragging in the hollow of your back when she laughs at a joke Katie made.

Shortly after, Jonas and his assistants arrive in the room and ask you all to sit down. You find yourself next to Alessia and Manuela Zinsberger and listens wisely to what he tells you. This mainly consists of a warm welcome from the new players, a reminder of the goals set for the team this year and the introduction of new staff members. After that, everyone is invited to a brunch and you find yourself around a big round table, once again with Manuela but also with Frida Maanum, who seems delighted to have a compatriot with her on the team.

"We’ll be able to show Stina and Amanda who the real Vikings are" she told you, amusing the people around you.

The least we can say is that you quickly feel comfortable.

Finally you were wrong to fear the introduction into your new team. You haven’t trained together yet, but you feel it won’t be a problem for you to fit in here. Despite you, your eyes are a little too turned towards Leah Williamson, who has lunch at an another table. You didn’t expect the injuries one to be here today, which was stupid of you. They’re just as much part of the team as you are.

In the middle of the afternoon, after visiting the different rooms and the training ground, you are free to leave. You stay a little longer than the first ones who do though, having fun making passes with Alessia and Manuela, while Leah, Lia, Beth and Viv stay a few meters from you to discuss. When you finally decide to leave the field to go home and you don’t follow them to the parking lot greeting them nevertheless, you see Leah arching an eyebrow.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking the subway? I don’t have a car yet" you answer smiling, shrugging your shoulders.

"Bullshit. Someone can bring you back" Leah says, turning to your teammates.

"I’m not going to force someone to make a detour for me, Leah, but that’s very kind, thank you very much."

Something in the blonde’s gaze makes you think that if she had been fit to drive, she herself would have made the detour, but being driven by Lia she doesn’t have the opportunity to do so.

"I can" says Alessia nicely. "Where do you live?"

A new wave of surprise attacks your teammates when you give them the name of your hotel.

"You live in a hotel?" Lia wonders with her kind voice this time.

"I didn’t find an apartment for now" you shrug your shoulders."It all happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to anticipate things properly."

Well, you must also say that you wanted enjoy your holiday without bother yourself with it.

"We have a guest room if you want to come and live there for a few days, the time to find something" proposes Manuela.

But before you have time to answer, Alessia suddenly resumes speaking, slapping her forhead, as if she had just remembered something.

"They’re looking to rent the apartment in front of mine, on the same floor. If it’s like mine, it’s really nice!"

********

It turned out that the apartment in front of Alessia is indeed very nice. A bright living room (Very rare for London said Katie when she was sent by Leah to come make the counter-visit with you to scare the seller in case of scam attempts), a bedroom, another room that you used as a guest room, a third to make you an office and a living room with open kitchen. You even have a small balcony overlooking the inner courtyard, separated from Alessia’s by a transparent wall. "We’ll have to do a housewarming party" several of your teammates got excited. And that’s how you end up with most of the players on the team crammed into your living room, laughing while watching a reality show chosen by Jen. You ordered pizza and a supply of beer and other drinks has been flooding your balcony since last night. But you feel good and that’s all that matters. At the end of the show, you don’t know who offers a drinking game, consisting of taking a shot of alcohol if we did more than the person says. For example, you find yourself having to drink when Lotte says "I took more than three yellow cards last season." "Katie should drink like five shots" jokes Viv towards. Katie glare at her as laughter rises around you, but the game continues. Finally, when one of them says "I slept with more than two people" you are surprised to see that finally not many of you drink. You do. "Y/N?" Manuela turns to you with a disbelieving smile. "We never said we had to justify ourselves" you answer pulling your tongue at her. A new round is quickly thrown after that, but you cross Leah’s eyes a few seconds later. She also drank, which is probably not surprising given the small reputation that precedes her.

After clearing your throat, you look away with a slight blush on your cheeks.

You regularly saw Leah, between the parties organized by the different team members and during training. If the blond doesn’t follow those in the field, she has her appointments with her physiotherapist at the same time as you play. And she now participates in strength training and physical maintenance.

You talk to her regularly, but you have a hard time staying away like you promised yourself to. Leah seems like a very passionate and kind person, but some of your former teammates in Manchester City have made you aware of her flirtatious nature. And a one- or two-night thing, are really not what you’re looking for right now.

A little later in the evening, when at least half of the squad has returned home, you find yourself tidying up a little in the kitchen accompanied by Lia, Leah, Alessia, Manuela and Frida.

"So you have more than two conquests?" teases Manuela, leaning on the central island of your kitchen.

You have the impression that Leah’s eyes will pierce your head when she hears Manu’s question.

"I’ve got like three" you says, rolling your eyes. "It’s not the end of the world"

"It’s not" Lia laughs.

Hoping to divert the conversation, you offer once again to drink to your teammates slash friends. But that was without counting on Manu’s spontaneity.

"Oh but it wasn’t you who dated Alina Meier who play in Aston Villa? Lia’s swiss teammate?" (n/a I don’t want any problem with anyone, this girl is all invented)

You feel your stomach contracting a little bit to her name. Manuela isn’t mistaken, but you usually avoid talking about your ex. Any of your interlocutors could feel the tension emanating from you, but Lia is the fastest.

"Can I have another beer please?" she cuts the conversation with a big smile.

You willingly accept and pivot towards the fridge to dive in. Alessia takes charge of changing the topic of conversation and you sigh of relief when your hear that it works. You spend two seconds more than necessary to take out the beer, taking a large breath before leaving the fridge. Alessia puts a comforting hand behind your back and you find yourself once again stuck in Leah’s eyes when your eyes cross.

An hour later, it’s just Alessia, Leah, Victoria and you. Manuela fell asleep on the couch and you will probably find her in the same place tomorrow morning. Vic and Lessi are in the middle of a conversation about a band when you find yourself on your balcony, enjoying some fresh air.

"Mind if I join you?"

Leah. You obviously invite her to join you, despite yourself very intrigued by the young woman. You’re not stupid, or at least not stupid enough not to realize that she seems intrigued by you too. She speaks at you more often than Manu for example and behaves differently with you than with Lia or Alessia. You can imagine how much she looks about you and to be honest you’re interested about her too. But on your side it’s not only physical interest, which changes everything.

"Are you okay?" asks Leah with sincere concern. "You seem a little down since Manu mentioned Alina."

You look at her thoughtfully for a split second before shrugging your shoulders.

"She doesn’t bring back pleasant memories. But it’s ok" you finally confess, looking at the sky.

It’s difficult in London to observe the stars, between pollution and public lights lit everywhere. You miss it a little.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Well… Everybody in the football world knows, no?"

Another disadvantage of dating a well-known player, in the end. It’s impossible to keep your privacy private.

"I don’t think so?" said Leah, frowning. "I don’t, anyway." You look at her again for a few seconds and it doesn’t take you any longer to understand that she’s telling the truth. "We dated for almost a year, until I found out she had been cheating on me with someone in the man team from her club for almost four months." "Oh... I’m so sorry" A new glance in her direction allows you to understand that she really is. Frowning, she seems upset by this story. Like all the people to whom you tell the truth of your break up with Alina. You assumed that everyone knew why, but it would seem that they didn’t. It kind of cheers you up to be honored. "Jordan’s playing with her now" you say thoughtfully. Leah grunt at the mention of her ex and you take advantage of the fact that she looks in front of her to observe her. Leah is a very beautiful woman, it’s not surprising that people like her so much. You see regularly video on her in your "For you" on Tiktok. "You’re not the only one having a bad relationship with your ex" ended up sighing Leah. "Do you want to talk about it?" you ask, repeating her words from before. "There’s not much to say. She’s just, you know... gone." Maybe you shouldn’t get close to her to put your hand on her shoulder, her proximity triggering strange sensations throughout your body. You realize that the joints of Leah’s hands that are attached to the fence are white, and your hand quickly leaves her shoulder to be laid on one of Leah’s, stroking it. When Leah turns her head in your direction, you realize how close your faces are. Your breath is cut off and the infinity of the blue of her eyes makes you lose yourself. When Leah puts her hand around your waist to take you against her, you feel like your heart rate has never been so fast.

But it’s nothing compared to how you feel when her lips land on yours. One hand is automatically behind her neck and the other on her cheek. Your lips begin a passionate and sensual dance and that’s exactly how you imagined things when you thought about how Leah kiss.

The blonde takes advantage of a wimper from you to deepend the kiss and request access to your mouth with her tongue. You leave it to her, carried away by these waves of emotions and sensations that make you turn your head. You find yourself quickly having legs in jelly and you can’t tell how long this moment happened.

You need all your concentration and willpower to break that kiss, snatching yourself from Leah’s arms.

"I’m sorry" you mumble out of breath, facing Leah’s surprised face. "I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry"

With one last mumble, you hurry back inside. If the remaining guests suspect something, they don’t show it. You take the excuse to clean up a little more to mask your trembling hands and let your heart rate returning to normal. Five minutes later, Leah came back inside, excusing herself and leaving your apartment, calling it a night. She didn't even look at you and well, that's hurt. But it shouldn't, aren't you the one who pushed her away?

After kissing your cheek and saying goodbye, Alessia left you too. You throw a blanket on Manu’s sleeping body, you go to your room. It’s late, but you know that Ingrid sometimes stays up a little later than other people.

From You Are you asleep?

From Ingrid 🩵 No. are you okay?

From You Can we call each other?

You don’t get messages back, but Ingrid tries to call you while you’re brushing your teeth. You pick up, mouth full of toothpaste and greet your friend with a hand sign when her face appears on the screen.

"What are you still up at this hour?" smiled Ingrid

"I could ask you the same question" you point out to her after rinsing your mouth.

Ingrid just turns your phone screen and you realize that she shows you her living room, in which she seems to be installed with Mapi and Baghera watching TV.

"Hola Mapi!" you smile to the tattooed when she greets you with a wave of hand.

"What about you?"

"I invited the girls to my apartment to celebrate my move in" you explain before leaving the bathroom and going to lie on your bed.

"Was it nice?"

You hum for any answer, the memory of the kiss you just exchanged with Leah coming back full force. After spending years paying attention at you, Ingrid knows you very well and she realizes in the second that the reason you called her is related to this evening.

"What’s going on, Søtnos?"

Mapi being next to Ingrid, you are relieved that you started this conversation in Norwegian. Since Leah’s name is rather all-purpose, you hope that when you mention her, Maria will not realise. You never understood why there is such tension between the Spanish women and the English women, at least for some of them. But Mapi will probably never be friends with Leah.

Ingrid is a person you could easily confide in, even if there are parts of your life that you have never talked to her about. But you trust her with your life and you know that she will always be able to see things in a neutral and mature way. Which is not always your case.

You explain the situation to her, trying not to take too much time while giving her all the necessary information to have a clear vision of things.

"For summary" resumes Ingrid after your monologue "You like her, she seems to like you too. She kissed you, you pushed her away and she left without looking at you?"

"Uh… yeah"

"And you’re surprised?" laughs softly the brunette shaking her head.

"No, on the contrary. I should never have accepted that kiss in the first place, it was a serious mistake on my part."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn’t see things the way I do, I guess. Leila told me to beware of her and she didn’t want anything serious for a long time" you sigh as you roll to the side.

"Did you talk to her about it?"

"No, we didn’t have time between the kiss and the moment she left my apartment slamming the door" you laugh.

"Be careful with your bad attitude" warns Ingrid pointing at you.

But you smile at her in return. You know she doesn’t scold you for real.

"Anyway, I doubt that she will want to speak to me again after that" you sigh again.

This information shouldn’t depress you as much as that, but still. And this doesn’t escape the keen eye of your compatriot once again. She smiles softly at you.

"I like Leila and I don’t doubt that she means what she says, but trust me, you’re never better served than by yourself."

Her look from the side and you know she’s looking at her own girlfriend. You remember perfectly well that Ingrid was also told to beware of Mapi. But when you see where they are today, you tell yourself that she did well to trust her own idea.

"You have a better conscience than me to judge people" you remind her.

Ingrid answers you with a grunt and you know that she thinks about what happened previously in your love life. You make a grimace and decide to change the subject, questioning her rather on Mapi, her trainings and what she has to tell you again in her life.

Your call lasts another ten minutes before you decide to stop, promising to call you back quickly. What you usually do once a week at least, determined to keep in touch despite the fact that you are not in the same country.

It’ll be a long time before you can fall asleep that night, Leah deep in your mind. Part of you is bitterly sorry you pushed her away, but on the other hand, no one can blame you for wanting to protect you, right? No one knows your past and what you went through before you came here. But you can’t help but feel guilty, despite the little time you spent with Leah, she confided in you about her relationship with her ex and even if it was just a few words, you feel like she wouldn’t do it to just anyone. Your last wish is to hurt her, she asked nothing for it.

You will have to wait until the sky clears, heralding a new day for you to finally find sleep, long hours later. Little did you know that Leah experienced the same thing in her own bed.

********

As you have imagined, Leah was particularly cold the next time you saw her. She greeted you, but only from a distance. Her affectionate smile and the little touches if attention she offered you on a daily basis now seem to need to be evoked in the past. And it bothers you too much for your taste.

This obviously caught the attention of the girls you were closest to in Arsenal, starting with Alessia.

"Is everything okay with Leah?" she asked you one day when you ended up in her apartment after a game.

"Yeah, why?"

Thank God you were on your phone and you were able to use this pretext to pretend to be absorbed by what was on it. Otherwise Alessia would have seen the slight panic take hold of your gaze.

"I don’t know, I think she changed her behavior with you… It’s not so much in her habits"

Alessia is far too observant, but given her character and personality, it doesn’t surprise you. It's also probably thanks to this that she saw your hesitation and she got closer to you before starting to speak again.

"Leah is my friend but you are too, so if you need to confide in someone, you can do it with me ok? I know how to keep secrets"

"Even for Tooney?" you asked while arching an amused eyebrow.

You met the energetic Englishman recently, when she came to London for an interview and took the opportunity to attend a match of Alessia.

"Even for Tooney" laughed Alessia gently shoving you with a shoulder.

You laughed too and you both went back to your respective phones, but in truth Alessia’s remark began to spin in your brain.

"Thanks"

Is all you added before you letting your head on her shoulder. Alessia responded by tapping you on the top of it, without taking her phone out of her eyes. And that was enough.

********

"Your tattoo is amazing!"

Katie’s exclamation makes you turn in her direction and you smile timidly when you see her watching your back carefully.

"Thank you?" you whisper in response.

Even if you prefer showering at home, this is not the first time you change in front of your teammates. So you don't know it Katie have never dared to ask you about it or if they have never really make attention the tattoo you have on your back. Yet it’s hard to miss. Drawn on all your right shoulder blade, it goes down to the hollow of your hips and shows up to your right shoulder.

"Wow, invite the girl on a date before" jokes Manuela when Katie advances towards you, without detaching her eyes from your back, her head slightly tilting on the side to have a better view.

"Sorry, I already put an option on it!" Caitlin exclaims at the back of the locker room, causing a general laugh.

Katie rolls her eyes, but you realize that she has been joined by Lia and Leah, all three of them carefully observing your tattoo. Your gaze lingers on Leah, who seems to resist as much as possible her desire to come and look closer. She stands behind Lia and when your eyes cross she silently observes you for long seconds before shifting her attention to your back.

"Sorry about the invasion" Lia smiles gently.

"It makes me think of a painting" Leah thoughtfully made next to her.

"By Van Gogh yes. The Starry Night. It was my grandfather’s favorite painting. Well, it’s a modified version obviously, but the inspiration is there"

The surprised look of Leah doesn't escape you. Lia is watching you silently and next to you Katie and Manuela have started a conversation about tattoos. As for Alessia, she finally emerges from the shower after her eternal routine of care.

"Do you like painting?" Leah asks carefully, looking at you with the same apprehension as if your gaze could ignite her alive.

"My grandfather was a painter, not very well known but he introduced me to this world" you answer by shrugging your shoulders.

"What she paints is incredible. She has a room dedicated to this at home, behind her bedroom" Alessia intervenes.

You turn in her direction, frowning. It's a part of you that you don't really want to share with everyone, fearing their jugement. You don't think you're a great painter, but you like painting. It's sort your mind. Your glance is quickly captured by your friend.

"What? It’s true" she mumbles, shrugging.

You roll your eyes and turn around to finish dressing, putting on a t-shirt and a sweatshirt to accompany your ripped jeans. The little troop that surrounded you has dissipated, but Leah’s gaze remains thoughtfully on you. You cross it when you glance in her direction and you blush slightly.

The effect that woman has on you… It might be a good idea to talk to someone about it again instead of thinking desperately about her every night before you fall asleep.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

A Song of Ice & Shadow masterlist

Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

Word count: 2.11K

Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.

Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.

Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.

One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.

After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.

A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.

“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.

“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.

The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.

“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.

“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.

“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.

“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.

“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.

Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.

“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.

“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.

“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.

“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.

“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.

“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.

“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.

“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.

“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.

“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.

“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.

“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.

—-

Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…

As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.

At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.

Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.

“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.

“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.

“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.

“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.

“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.

“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.

The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still

“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.

Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.

“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.

“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.

“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.

“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.

“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.

“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.

“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.

“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.

—-

“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.

“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.

“I wanted to spend some time with you”

“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.

“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.

“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.

“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.

“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.

The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.

“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.

“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.

“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.

“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.

“Y/n” Nesta called.

“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.

“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.

“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.

—-

“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.

“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.

“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.

“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.

“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.

“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,

“It’s nothing”.

“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.

“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.

“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.

“Who attacked you?”.

“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.

To his surprise, she only nodded.

“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.

“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.

[no-saints-around-here]

Yesterday's Cage for Tomorrow's Prison: Chapter 2

Yandere Shiba & Sano Family with Baby Shiba Sister!Reader

Masterlist

‎‎‎

<< Chapter 1

‎

this was a lot harder to write than I thought, and I nearly died but unfortunately the immigration line in hell was too long

tw: heavy incest, pseudo incest, explicit smut, yandere, drugging, sexual assault, heretic religious themes, afab reader, female pronouns, dead dove do not eat

Yuzuha cursed under her breath, large orange eyes sweeping side to side as she methodically checked the storefront for any sign of you. Nothing, again. Turning to briskly walk further down the same street to the next store, the orange-haired girl already knew that you weren’t going to be there either. Hell, she could say with a hundred percent certainty that you weren’t going to be anywhere near here, even if she wasn’t done with her meticulous searching for the day. Having long lost count of the number of times she had already looked in every nook and cranny of your favorite haunts over the past week, day and night, there was simply no way she would have missed you at this point. More so, it was the sinking feeling in her gut and that third sense she had for you that confirmed your absence from the area.

Opting to sink onto one of many benches that littered the shopping street, the Shiba sibling popped open a cold can of soda, taking a chug as she took a break from the afternoon sun in the shade of a tree, watching the rest of the world go by. Nameless individuals bustling up and down the street, bags of things filling both arms and eyes occupied with the glamorous displays, sparing naught a second glance at her or her situation as they rushed past on an unknown countdown. An undignified sigh slipped the lady’s lips as she lowered her now half-empty can, bronze eyes glazed over as she stared up at the rustling leaves overhead, though she did still catch a few stray empathetic looks thrown her way.

The last thing she wanted was anyone’s pity, really, but Yuzuha simply couldn’t help herself looking this despondent. After all, you were gone. Missing. Lost to the greater world, and no matter how poetic one could make that sound, the simple matter of the fact was that neither she nor Taiju had seen you in a week. if you weren’t here or there or wherever she looked, then where on God’s green earth could you possibly be? Were you even still alive?

‎

The quaint little shopping street, just a stone’s throw from the Shiba family home, brought a pang of nostalgia to the lonely lady’s chest - the shops that lined both sides of the pedestrian lane had changed hands countless times, but the slow, leisurely atmosphere had remained steadfast across the past twelve years. Once considered a rare escape from the house in exchange for your good behavior, the occasionally bustling area was now more of a reminder of the recurring nightmare Yuzuha was currently trapped in. Taking another large gulp, the orange-haired lady had to quickly sit up as she spluttered, earning herself another look from a passerby to which she sheepishly apologized, before quickly returning to her pondering. Was there anyone else you could be seeking shelter with? As far as she was concerned, it wasn’t as if you had any other friends outside of your older siblings, with most being too afraid of the long shadow of Taiju and the unspoken threat that you carried with you, and the rest having already been dealt with.

While there wasn’t much to like about the blue-haired former delinquent of an older brother -  their miserable childhoods under his tyrannical rule, the physical and emotional abuse they endured for years on end, and the extreme decisions that he had driven both Yuzuha and Hakkai to at the end of their wits - for you, it had been worth it all. She hated Taiju, but there was no denying that you had been kept safe by the oldest of the Shibas all these years.

Pulling her phone out from her pocket, the second Shiba sibling clicked into her chat history with you as if on instinct, her fingers mindlessly beginning to scroll upwards through the countless desperate, unanswered messages she had sent your way. You weren’t supposed to have a phone (Taiju would never permit it, no matter what the reason is) but the simple dumbphone you owned had been a gift from your older sister with strict instructions not to breathe even a word of its existence. It had no internet functionality, since not even she would risk you being able to access the internet and its treasure trove of internet, but as the only two girls left in the household, you and Yuzuha shared some secrets and had to have a way to do so. The phone was purely just for messages and calls and the occasional simple game when their big brother wasn’t watching. Or at least that was how the bronze-eyed lady told herself.

The memories came flooding back as she finally reached your last reply, what had seemed like a reassuring “yes, nii-san!” before you all but fell off the face of the earth. Such a simple gift had been enough to endear you to her, and you had thanked her again and again through the years, always willing to answer her messages and calls quickly, humming to yourself when you got time to fiddle around with the small electronic. Yet, you hadn’t replied in a week.

‎

Standing from the bench, the lady stretched, flicking her empty soda can into the nearby bin with pinpoint accuracy as she stalked off, phone swinging lazily in one hand. A slight breeze had picked up during her rest, and though it only seemed to blow hot air down the street instead of providing any respite, Yuzuha took in a deep breath, enjoying the fleeting moment of calm. There was no point in frantically trying to call or message you, even though she had been doing so herself over the past few days; your phone was most likely dead from a lack of battery, or if you had seeked shelter with someone, the phone had probably already changed hands. 

You didn’t want to be found, certainly not by her,  that much was obvious. And your older sister didn’t blame you.

The lady turned a corner into a side alley, the cacophony of the crowds dying down behind her with every step she took further into the shaded street. She didn’t believe in the concept of sin and repentance, the same one that her older brother so conveniently ignored when it came to you, but there was no denying that she would never be able to answer for what she had done to you. There were excuses she could give herself of course; that she couldn’t ignore the way that Taiju looked at you as the years passed, as you started to yearn for the freedom of the wider world. That Taiju should take all the blame for being the one to actually deflower you in a misplaced bid to preserve your purity. 

But Yuzuha would be the one to carry the original sin even if she was just trying to do the right thing. She had been the one that had trained you, that had prepared you to take Taiju. Cleaning you up after everything that had happened, soothing the mystery ache between your legs that you complained about the next day.  Keeping you on birth control pills for years and years, never knowing when the oldest of the Shibas would make his move yet never wanting to risk anything untold happening to you. All in the name of keeping the Shiba family together, as she had promised their mother. 

‎

A pause as she came to a stop at a fork in the road, the lady too lost in her own thoughts to make a decision which way to turn.

Yet even then, as much as that was all Yuzuha would like to admit to herself, she would always share the burden of giving into temptation. She could still see the first time it happened if she let her thoughts slip; your contorted expression, furrowed eyebrows as you mumbled in your sleep, your legs crossed as you unconsciously humped your pillow - a wet dream. Taking the opportunity of when you should share her room to explore you herself, the lady let out a ragged breath as her mind recalled her slipping her fingers into the pants of your pajamas and into your panties, slim fingers finding their way towards your already drenched slit and into your warmth. Your whimper as your walls clamped down around her intrusion as she teased and prodded, bronze eyes all the way carefully watching your expression.

The feeling of you spazzing uncontrollably around her as you came in your sleep, drenching both your underwear and her fingers with a moan that sounded too awake. Yuzuha had jerked away in a panic, the elastic band of your pants snapping back against your skin, but you had mercifully fallen back asleep amidst coming down from your high. You tasted sweet, the burst of flavor as she licked her fingers striking a chord deep inside your older sister, a sweetness that she couldn’t get enough of. And while it was the first time she - or anyone really - had ever explored you in that manner, it certainly wasn’t the last time. You had turned from her baby sister into an unholy addiction that she couldn’t give up. 

Her phone lit up and began to buzz, the ringing echoing down the otherwise lifeless sidestreet. Yuzuha blinked, drawn out from her thoughts.

Taiju. Was it already time?

With a deftly press of a button, she brought the smartphone to her ear, taking the quiet path to the left.

‎

‎

There was no doubt that your siblings would be scouring the streets for any sign of you, Izana mused, the fingers on one gloved hand tapping a rhythmless tune atop the glass as empty eyes watched you consider and reconsider your decision, yet that train of thought hardly bothered him. For one, this was a privately owned shop in a rather obscure location, down several narrow and rarely trodden alleyways that no regular passerby had any business accessing. And for two, was most definitely the right decision to bring you on this little excursion; knowing your older siblings and their annoying habit of breathing down your neck about everything big and small, they would have never allowed you to choose your own unhealthy, sinful treat, let alone see the inside of a convenience store. 

Which meant that this would put him squarely in your good books, ahead of not only your wretched siblings, but more importantly, ahead of the rest of his own wretched siblings. His grip on you tightened slightly, the rate of his breathing rising.

The longer he could keep you to himself, the better.

Returning to reality from his daydreams of his life after you had obviously picked him over the rest of the Sanos, it was obvious that the colorful display of ice cream in the freezers was more akin to cocaine to you; the large selection spread out beneath you having you absolutely mesmerized with just the glass slider separating your eager hands from the delightful treats. “There’s so many…” you mumbled out under your breath, your eyes darting right to left as you leaned over the chest freezer, the colorful wrappers glinting in the reflection in your eyes. “Which one?”

Was it really that hard to choose? Not that he would know, he supposed, given that he already had his favorites delivered straight to his doorstep and barely spares a second glance to the entirety of the shop on a regular day. But even if he was usually an impatient man, this was one instance that Izana didn’t mind taking it slow, the tanned club owner leaning in so that his body pressed up tight against your own, violet eyes fluttered closed and his face pressed into the crook of your shoulder, biting back the groan he could feel building in the back of his throat. Your blood family was the last thing on your mind at the moment, and this was exactly the way he liked it. One hand resting on your clothed thigh, the other already taking the initiative to begin exploring under the hem of your skirt, it took every ounce of control he had to ignore the tenting crotch of his pants. He couldn’t wait. “Wasn’t there a certain brand you were looking for?” He breathed out into your ear, warm air tickling your skin. “Do they not have it here?”

“Y-yes!” You startled slightly at his question as if you had been lost in your own world, your hands instantly flying up to shake a ‘no’ at his question instead much to his amusement. “Um, Izana-nii, I mean-”

His hand teased at the hem of your panties, rubbing the cloth that covered your crotch lightly between the pads of his fingers, occasionally brushing against the bare lips hidden underneath. Still no negative reaction from you. “You can’t choose?”

“No,” you admitted, though your eyes were still fixed on the contents of the freezer. “I didn’t know there were so many here.”

The air-conditioning continued to whirl from above unimpeded as the world outside continued to turn, the convenient store absolutely silent save for the sound of breathing.

“Hmmm.” Violet eyes scanned the small area even as his hands never ceased their exploration - it was never intended to be a cover business, he mused to himself, given there were more convenient alternatives to launder money, but this small snack stop had finally shown its usefulness beyond allowing his men to get what they need. A tingle in the back of his neck, and Izana swirled around, only for the heavily-tattooed man serving as the cashier to immediately avert his gaze at his nasty look. “Tch.” His eyes had lingered on you for a second too long, and he didn’t like it one bit. He’ll have to get that sorted later.

‎

Unfortunately for the tanned club owner, that gut feel wasn’t just for the unwelcomed looks at his new little sister. A sudden blast of humid air and an untimely trumpet of a car horn in the distance signaled the arrival of an unwelcome guest and a disruption to his plans with the click of the store door being opened, much to Izana’s displeasure, though the fact that it was Kakucho’s voice floating over from the shelves through the now-open door and not the sound of gunshots gave a good indication of who this intruder might be. “Wait, you can’t go ins-”

”Fuck off,” returned Mikey, the cheery welcome jingle of the convenience store a stark contrast to the other’s completely unamused tone. “I have business with that asshat.”

A smack, and then a second voice piped up, drowning out the burst of protests and whines from Mikey. “Don’t be so rude to Kakucho-kun, Mikey!” Emma scolded, the click of her heels echoing up from the tall shelves of the shop as she followed the other deeper into the shop. “He’s just doing his job, you know.”

How did they know to find him here? Izana glanced back at you even as his Sano half-brother continued to complain loudly about being ill-treated and biases towards anyone who would listen (which is to say, nobody in the vicinity); you were still too distracted with the first choice you had in a long time to notice the intruders, and it was already slightly too late to make an exit before the two of you could be noticed. He would have to wait and see what happens next, he supposed, empty eyes glancing back down at you.

“Hey shithead,” Mikey started from around the corner, right as the first of his blond locks came into view from behind a shelf of snacks. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour-”

‎

It was at that precise moment that you made your decision, turning your head up to look at Izana, ice cream already carefully clutched in hand. “Izana-nii, can I -“ And almost as soon as the words left your tongue, you finally took note of the arrival of outsiders, perhaps catching the subtle, sudden movement from the corner of your eyes, or catching the last of Mikey’s spat words. Yet for all that was going on around him, the ifs and could-bes, Izana’s gaze and fascination was fixed on you. What would your next move be? Would you scream? Would you attempt to scurry away to hide? 

Time froze for a moment as your eyes fixed on the unseen source of the noise on the other side of the shelves. What was going on in that little mind of yours?

Yet contrary to all his expectations, you instead instantly clammed up, your jaw snapping shut like a trap around a mouse. Taking a short step in his direction and ducking behind the white-haired man, you seemed to be attempting to line yourself up in a bid to ensure that his silhouette almost covered yours perfectly from the entrance. You were trying to blend into his side, hiding from the unknown.

It was a move that was so unlike your personality that it took Izana by surprise. No doubt this smooth a movement was the result of previous practice, Izana noted amusedly as he watched you move with uncharacteristic speed, something you have had to do multiple times before. Did you think it was your siblings here to pick you up perhaps? No matter, because most importantly, it didn’t matter to him that you couldn’t have known who it was at the door - in Izana’s mind, you had picked your side, and it was his.

Alas it was too little too late. 

As soon as both of those iconic slippers left the cover of the tall shelves filled top to bottom with snacks of every kind, your presence was immediately picked up by Mikey, whose footsteps and words came to an abrupt halt, blank abyss eyes staring at you. An expected outcome, acknowledged Izana as he snaked one protective arm around your shoulders, given the now black-haired man was and is still both the Toman president and legendary delinquent. Didn’t mean much to him anyway.

“Oof Mikey!” Came Emma’s voice from behind as she ran headfirst into the suddenly still back, before the annoyed blond-haired lady stepped round to assess the unfolding situation.. “Why did you stop- oh.”

“Can I help you two?” Izana asked, the tinge of annoyance clear in his tone. The blatant stares were making you uncomfortable, and he didn’t like that one bit.

‎

‎

Walled in on four sides, three by shelves and one being Izana, there wasn’t really any room for you to run or hide, given how small the shop was to begin with. You buried your face into the side of the white-haired man you barely knew, waiting with baited breath, ice cream still clutched in hand. The hum of the chillers around you only seemed ever louder with the silence that fell upon the store.

Scanning you up and down, Mikey’s expression remained unchanged as those blank abyss eyes seemed to reflect you and nothing else, opaque windows that had helped the man hold all his cards close to his chest all these years. You looked…familiar. He’s seen you somewhere before.

Emma glanced between the two men and you, the questions in her mind only growing by each passing second. “Do you know her?” She raised an eyebrow at Izana, who only shrugged in return, unwilling to disclose any further information.

Though in another stroke of bad luck for Izana, one more for the count on this already particularly horrid day, the dots connected for the younger of the two Sano men present, and Mikey’s eyes lit up in recognition. “You’re-“ the black-haired man paused for a moment. “Hakkai’s sister?”

That was enough to spark your curiosity, and you carefully peered out from behind Izana, doe eyes catching the white illumination from the standing refrigerator to the side.  If they knew Hakkai but not Taiju or Yuzuha - could they be on your side? Fortunately, the man on the other side was one you had met before. “...Mikey-san?”

Said man nodded, taking a step forward into the direct shine of an overhead light, as if so that you could take a better look at his face. So it was you that he had been hearing the whispers about, Izana’s little bird; he could still recall that particular night twelve years ago when the Toman Second Division Vice-Captain had brought you along to the gang meeting all apologetic, insisting that he couldn’t leave you alone at home by yourself. You were as shy as you were back then, Mikey mused, taking a good look at you as you shuffled out from behind Izana, seeming slightly more comfortable now. Though he couldn’t say that he wasn’t pleased that it was you of all people.

‎

The white-haired club owner’s grip on your shoulders visibly tightened, and you winced slightly at the pressure. “What do you want?” Izana’s tone now was sharp, violet eyes narrowed at his two siblings.

Mikey was hardly affected, his gaze fixed on you even as he responded. “Shinichiro’s looking for ya. Business,” was all he said.

“Tch.” Clicking his tongue, it was clear that Izana understood the cryptic message - and you couldn’t come along. 

“I can look after her while you’re busy,” came the Toman president’s offer, his hand already outstretched and reaching for yours before his offer had left his lips, but Izana was faster, yanking you backwards and out of reach.

“Absolutely not. She will not be going with you.”

Emma, silent up till now, stepped forward, the sweep of her blond hair backwards looking much like a momentary flash of angelic wings. “She can come with me,” she proposed cheerfully, stopping to shoot a warm smile your way. You shrank behind Izana slightly, your cheeks dusted red.

But the oldest of the three showed no sign of budging. He finally had you, and he wasn’t inclined to share. “Kakucho.”

As if a fae summoned, said man appeared behind the Sano siblings with nay a footstep to be heard nor a door opened, his working red eye respectfully lowered to the ground. “Yes sir.” 

“Take her back to her room. And stay with her.” 

“Yes sir.”

Mikey didn’t seem all too pleased at the decision made without his input. That was very rude. “Hey, I said I can take care of her!” He insisted, his arm once more shooting out to grab at you as you were shuffled past the narrow shelves, though this attempted interruption was quickly stopped by Izana with a quick chop to the offending limb.

”And I said no.”

Puffing up his cheeks only made the gang leader look like a squirrel, earning him a chuckle from you which you failed to bite back. ”I’m telling Shinichiro.”

As if that was a threat. Ignoring Mikey, Izana simply opted to walk you to the door and to his right-hand man and trusted friend’s side. “Straight to her room, Kakucho,” he repeated firmly, before turning to you. “You don’t talk to anyone else, understand?”

You nodded obediently, which earned you a ruffle of your hair.

”See you later.” Izana waved off your escort party, before turning once more to face Mikey and Emma, still waiting inside the shop. “Let’s get this over with then.”

‎

‎

It was rare to see Hakkai in such a frenzy these days, Mitsuya mused, lilac eyes watching said man frantically scan the vicinity before rushing towards him from the airport terminal exit, small suitcase all but bouncing off the floor and his legs as it was mercilessly hauled across the ground.

That striking blue hair was still visible as it bobbed above a drifting crowd of unsuspecting tourists. Comfortably leaning against the door of his car, the former Toman captain took the time to review the context of the situation he had found himself in, starting with the phone call he had received in the dead of night just a day before. He had thought nothing much of it at first, despite the strange 3am call: Hakkai had been overseas on a modeling contract for an international brand for the past week, as a well-sought after model usually was, so perhaps it was just that his former Division Vice Captain had forgotten about time zone differences.

Yet even with that excuse, the whole situation only got stranger, something that even a half-asleep former delinquent-turned-fashion designer noted; the blue-haired man sounded as if he was attempting to catch his breath after running a full marathon, huffing and puffing as he struggled to say even the few words informing Mitsuya that he was already on his way back to Japan, and would contact him when he lands. Divines only knew what was urgent enough to send Hakkai into such a rash decision, though he supposed he would find out soon.

Pushing off from his car, Mitsuya raised one hand as the third youngest Shiba sibling closed the distance, coming to a screeching halt just inches away. The lilac-haired man swore he could see the smoke trails left behind from the suddenly dispersed momentum, though judging from those blown eyes and half-style hair, it wasn’t exactly the best time for a joke. “Hakkai,” he greeted simply, sliding both hands back into his pockets. “What happened?”

“She’s missing, Taka-chan,” Hakkai stammered out, one hand on his chest as if to keep both his lungs and heart from falling out of his chest. “My lil’ sis, she’s gone.”

[penkura]

last forever [6/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This got away from me, it's over 6k words, I'm so sorry. But, here's Robin and a bit of development between our lovely couple, I suppose. I do love Zoro, I promise.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5]

��Looks like we've shaken them.”

A round of whines from your crewmates is heard, making you smile slightly.

“You guys should be happy.”

Another whine, this time making you giggle while Zoro stares at everyone else.

“Stop that. What's wrong with you all?”

“I miss her!!”

Leaving Alabasta the way you did, barely able to say goodbye to Vivi and Karoo, with her decision to stay in the kingdom rather than join you all at sea, it was rough. You missed her greatly too, but understood her choice and accepted it. You still had Nami, at the very least it wasn't just you and a bunch of boys.

“If you wanted her to stay, you should've taken her by force!”

Hearing the insults everyone throws towards Zoro makes you laugh, even as he looks up at you on the upper deck in annoyance. You wave with a smile still on your face before he looks away. Strangely, things haven't changed much between you since he told you nothing romantic would be happening. Sometimes you feel an ache in your chest when you look at him, thinking about it, but you've come to accept Zoro probably would never take back what he said or try to court you. Once you had some kind of response from your parents, you two would sign your annulment papers and move on, living as crewmates instead of faking being husband and wife for your safety.

“I do agree with Zoro, you guys,” your smile softens as everyone looks up at you in surprise, “I love Vivi too, but if we wanted her to come along, we should've just kidnapped her.”

“[Y/N]!”

“Of course, that would've made us worse criminals,” jumping down from the upper deck, you stand beside Zoro with your arms crossed, “so it's better we let Vivi stay like she decided to. We'll see her again.”

While the rest of the crew agrees with you, Zoro is surprised you're being so agreeable with him after your discussion the other night.

Well ‘discussion’ is putting it lightly and in more positive terms. Sanji confronted him the next morning and mentioned how you'd ended up in tears over what Zoro said to you, making your temporary husband feel bad for a bit. He hadn't meant to make you cry, he was just telling you the truth. Romance was the farthest thing from his mind, it shouldn't even be in yours right now. There are too many other things to worry about, your goals and helping Luffy become King of the Pirates were the main ones. Helping everyone else with theirs was secondary, romance or anything like that was so far out of his mind, he never thought of it being a thing he'd have to worry about.

When he looks at you, all you do is smile, before Zoro shakes his head to move on and get those thoughts that you're still upset out of his head. You probably are, but it's not something to worry about right now.

“Looks like we finally escaped the firing squad.”

“Yeah, finally.”

“Excellent work, swordsman.”

The newest voice makes you all freeze in shock before everyone starts to freak out. Your hand is on your sword but Zoro is in front of you before anything happens, the rest of your crew moving into position against the dark haired woman on board. You barely recognize her as Crocodile's partner Ms. All Sunday, and you're curious about her reasons for being on your ship.

While Sanji swoons over her, Nami and Chopper start to hide behind you behind Zoro, Usopp is shouting warnings, and Luffy is shouting questions, Nico Robin does little more than smile, before saying she wants to join the crew, giving her reason being that Luffy saved her life back in Alabasta.

“I was determined to die, and you saved my life. That's your crime. So I decided I would join you.”

“Well,” Luffy nods and crosses his arms, “Guess it can't be helped. Welcome aboard!”

“Luffy!!”

The next little while is spent with everyone quickly changing their minds about Robin, for the most part. Usopp interrogates her but still believes her to be dangerous, until she pulls a trick with her Devil Fruit powers making him, Luffy, and Chopper burst out laughing. Sanji is smitten simply due to her being a woman, and Robin handing over a bag of jewels to Nami has them in each other's good graces.

Zoro intends to hold out, he's not going to trust her so easily when she was out to get you all until just a few minutes ago. He halfway expects you to do the same, though he doesn't expect the next exchange between you and Luffy a few moments later, once everyone has settled and you're able to pull your captain aside.

“Luffy,” you stay quiet, only he and Zoro can really hear you while Sanji continues to fawn over Robin as Usopp and Chopper ask her to show more of her powers, “Do you really trust her? I mean…she did work with Crocodile.”

Luffy gives you a bright grin and nod, which you return slightly. “Yeah, it's fine! She's not a bad person! You can tell too, can't you?”

“Mm.” You nod, deciding to trust in Luffy and his decision. You climb up on the railing beside him, taking the extra fishing rod to help him get something for dinner. “I'll trust you then, Luffy.”

“Great! Now let's get something good for Sanji to cook for dinner!”

“Haha, right.”

No, you don't miss how Zoro doesn't say anything, instead turning away from you and Luffy, avoiding Robin as she attempts to speak to him before looking at Luffy and asking if he'd gotten any bites yet. She was trying to fit in with you all, Luffy trusted her and she seemed to trust him. You're willing to give her a chance, even if Zoro isn't.

You're sure there's going to be a discussion about this later, and you definitely aren't looking forward to it.

+!+

“You can't be serious that you trust her.”

“Zoro,” you sigh and shake your head, rubbing your forehead a bit. Your head is starting to ache at the thought of a possible argument, “I didn't say I trust her.”

“Oh, and what's your reasoning for not being skeptical? She was our enemy not even three days ago!”

“I get that…but it sounds like she trusts Luffy.”

Zoro sighs heavily and shakes his head at you this time. He's not sure what to do with you, he doesn't want to fight with you about this, but it seems to be the way it's going to go.

He just doesn't trust Robin and doesn't get why you, who seemed to have worse trust issues than he did, ever would.

“And when she betrays us?”

“She won't, Zoro.”

“You don't know that! She could be using Luffy saving her as an excuse to get information and take it to the government or another pirate crew!”

“Oh good lord,” You're nearly glaring at Zoro while he almost snarls at you over the situation, “you are the most untrusting, stubborn man I've ever met! I don't trust her yet, who I trust is Luffy!”

“Luffy doesn't know what he's doing with her! She said something she knew he'd like to hear, she's not safe!”

“Luffy is our captain!” You didn't know your voice could get this loud, nor did you think Zoro's ever would. The rest of the crew must be getting one hell of a show if they could hear you from the storeroom right now. Though, if they could, you're certain Sanji would have run in to defend you and Robin by now.

“What does that have to do with this?!”

“He makes the decisions! If he thinks Robin is safe, I'll trust Luffy!”

“You're being as much of an idiot as our captain is!”

No, he doesn't really mean it, but Zoro wants to get his point across. You should be cautious, wary of this new person who, yes, was your enemy just a few days ago. You get that, you really do, but if Luffy thinks she's a good person, then…

“Yeah, sure! I'm an idiot because I trust our captain's choice!”

“Yes you are!”

“And you're a stubborn, untrusting dumbass!”

Well you've never called him such a name before, and that's more surprising to Zoro than anything that's happened today. You've both said too many things, probably things you don't mean, but it's enough now that he's done with it all. Done with yelling or trying to talk to you about it. He knows you won't listen, you'll both just end up trading insults and he doesn't want that anymore than you do.

So instead, Zoro pushes past you to leave, stopping briefly for one more thing.

“I want those papers later. We don't need to wait on your parents anymore.”

Zoro doesn't let you respond before he's heading back up the stairs, Luffy calling him for something that he's more than willing to do if it means being away from you for now.

You, however, do feel bad for the names you called him, and wish you had stopped him quickly enough to apologize. Had you been able to properly get your words out, maybe Zoro would have listened instead of fighting with you about Robin's recruitment. Instead you both let your emotions take over, said things you didn't mean, and now he was wanting the annulment papers.

Way to go, [Y/N]. You're getting an annulment and probably losing your closest friend.

+!+

Robin finds you with the logbook a couple days later, while everyone else is off the ship checking out the latest island you've docked at. She's not that surprised that you're the one who's keeping track of your adventure, you just seemed like the right person to write out everything that happened. If it wasn't you, she would've expected Nami to be keeping track.

“Anything interesting to record, Miss Logkeep?”

Humming a bit, you nod and finish the sentence you were writing, leaning back as Robin sits across from you. You're still recording all the events of Alabasta, trying to find the words to put everyone's perspective into the log appropriately. Making sure you had all the information meant having to speak with everyone, and with you and Zoro at odds for the moment, it felt like somethings were missing, and you likely weren't going to get anything from him until you two made up somehow.

You haven't taken your annulment papers to him, he hasn't asked again since your argument. Honestly you hope he's forgotten and will let things be until you hear from your parents or he changes his mind entirely. Maybe it's useless to hope for that, but until he asked for them again, you're going to hold onto that hope.

“Yeah, trying to finish Alabasta but…”

“Need someone else's side?”

“Mm…” You nod again, and Robin gives you a smile.

She had heard the argument you and Zoro had, so she knew very well that you two weren't really speaking. Even though it was due to her presence, she didn't say anything to let on that she knew, instead deciding to keep that to herself to see where things went with the two of you. It sounded like you were extremely close, and she'd like to see what your relationship with Zoro really was like.

“Forgive me if I'm prying, but are you and the swordsman close?”

You bite your lip a bit, wondering if you really should trust her with such information. It's not like you have to reveal your temporary marriage to Robin, Zoro would likely demand the papers again and actually sign them this time if you did so. After a moment of back and forth with yourself, you sigh and nod, closing the log with your bookmark in place.

“Yeah, we traveled together before we met Luffy. About eighteen months, I think.”

While you start to relay your story of how you met Zoro, met Luffy, and came to suddenly be a pirate, Robin just smiles and listens to you. Though you and Zoro aren't speaking much right now, you seem happy to be talking about him, like there's something there that even Robin is missing. She's not sure yet, if you have feelings for him, but the smile on your face and the slight blush you seem to have tells her she's on the right track.

“He's saved me from drowning, you know.”

“Has he now?”

You nod again, still smiling. “Not since before we joined Luffy, but a few times. My parents didn't teach me how to swim, Zoro's tried a few times,” you laugh and look at Robin, “I'm not very good!”

Robin laughs with you and gives you a smile. “Sounds like you really like him.”

She has you figured out, Robin thinks, while you blush a little and smile slightly before nodding. You simply have a crush on Zoro, and it seems he doesn't reciprocate it right now. That might change, because she has seen how protective of you Zoro is, having witnessed it first hand when she showed herself on Merry and he was in front of you almost instantly. Although she doesn't yet know all the details of your relationship, she's keen to see what happens.

When Sanji calls you all for dinner, Robin watches you and Zoro. You may not be talking to each other, but you still stay close, seated by each other without much thought, though you don't say anything to Zoro nor does he to you.

Robin knows you two will make up somehow, eventually. It seems as though you've been through far too much together to let one fight come between you.

And if you all do make it to the sky island, there might be a decent chance of seeing how well you two work together in battle.

+!+

“Come on, it's not water.”

You stare at Zoro from the Merry's deck, unsure if you believe him enough to jump down and join your crew. Finally arriving at Skypiea was a weight off and on your shoulders, with how thin the air was you felt like you couldn't breathe at first. Once you were used to that, you thought you were away from the water enough that you didn't need to worry about drowning, until watching Usopp nearly drown to death in the endless cloud sea.

Even with seeing Luffy, Chopper, and Robin freely walk through the clouds without any effects, you still weren't sure about it. Of course, you had no real fear of the water, you'd be a terrible pirate if you did.

However, knowing your inability to swim, you try to be careful on the ship, and not knowing how the Sky Island was, you were more worried than anything, even with Zoro trying to coax you off the ship and say you'd be safe.

You two have barely spoken since your argument about Robin joining the crew, so seeing him try to help you is a surprise. You're both stubborn but Zoro more so than you, which is what led to you spending more time with Robin and getting to know her, trusting her and knowing that she's no longer a threat.

Zoro's not at all impressed with you and how you've avoided speaking to him lately, but leaving you on the ship was not happening in his mind, not when everyone else had left and others were even calling for you. Luffy shouting for you to hurry up, Nami promising it was safe and you wouldn't drown, and even Sanji calling for you and saying he'd found something for you (likely the same flower you'd seen him give Nami and Robin, but it was a sweet gesture).

After another moment watching you debate, Zoro sighs and sticks a hand out to you, making you tilt your head.

“I won't let you fall. You know that.”

He's right, so you finally decide to go with your friends. Stepping onto and jumping off the railing with your shoes in one hand, the other grabbing Zoro's so he pulls you to him and keeps you from hitting the ground immediately, his other arm around your waist to help with that.

“Told ya.” Zoro sets you down and lets go of you once he sees you're stable, turning to follow after the rest of the crew before you grab his arm and stop him. “What?”

“I’m…sorry, thank you.”

“The hell you sorry about?”

“Not talking to you, calling you a dumbass, and fighting with you about Robin. I…we can…sign the papers later…”

Oh, that's what it was. Zoro wondered for a few days why you hadn't said anything to him about your marriage or your fight, he thought you'd just bring the papers to him later and say you wanted the annulment, not worrying about whatever your parents may think. He would've signed them if you did, but hearing the way you spoke just now, the slightest bit of concern and maybe sadness in your voice, it makes him shake his head in response.

“No, just…just leave it alone for now,” Zoro sighs but places his hand on your shoulder, moving you to walk in front of him, “Let's just join the others.”

Nodding, you don't miss how Zoro slightly squeezes your shoulder, before moving to keep his hand on your back and guide you, likely so you knew he wasn't letting you go so you wouldn't fall. It's a strange but kind gesture, even after he'd told you that he didn't have feelings for you and you two weren't going to be a couple.

Part of you wonders if he's lying, whether to you or himself, you're not sure yet though.

+!+

With all the trouble that Skypiea has brought you all, a night of rest and drinking was greatly needed, in your opinion. You'd all split off the next day to search for the city of gold and make your way to the end of sky island, but for now, you'll indulge in some drinks and laughs with your friends.

While he's still busy making food and handing it out, Sanji does, at one point, notice you grab a couple drinks and almost run back over to Zoro to give him one, before you go back to Nami and Robin nearby. How strange you two still are, in his eyes. You fight to the point of silent treatment, then start speaking again just earlier that day, and you're back to your usual self, bringing the mosshead things whether he asks or not. You're far too kind to Zoro, he doesn't deserve you, even though Sanji knows and understands the two of you aren't together. You do too much for him with nothing in return.

Although, rarely, Sanji has noticed that sometimes, it's Zoro who brings things to you in return. You've asked for a book once, something to drink a few times, and more recently had voiced your want for a snack, and were surprised by it a bit later when Sanji brought it to you.

“I…didn't even come ask you yet.”

Sanji shakes his head, scowling slightly before saying “Mosshead came and told me you wanted something to eat. Said I should just bring it right to you.”

You're surprised, mostly because you and Zoro haven't been speaking since your argument the other day.

“I…see…”

The blond knows of your fight, you'd gone to him shortly after and maybe you cried a little while telling him everything, but Sanji's of the belief you two must've made up if Zoro came and asked him to bring you something.

“Guess you guys made up then.”

“No…” this time you shake your head, accepting the small plate of food from Sanji with a slight smile, “We haven't…but this was sweet of him.”

Sanji was surprised at that, but now, he's more annoyed than anything. While you talk and laugh with Nami and Robin, Zoro stays where you left him, every now and then, Sanji catches him watching you. He's probably drunk, that's the only reason Sanji can think of to explain the look Zoro has on his face. It's something soft and almost faraway, like he's thinking too much about something. It only stops when you look over and smile at him, like you had back in Cocoyashi Village, making Zoro look away quickly and down the last of his drink.

There's something there, Sanji knows there is.

He's just not sure what it is yet.

+!+

Robin fully believes she knows what it is between you and Zoro, after watching you two the next day. You'd gone with her to search for the city of gold, Zoro not thinking that was a smart idea but you convinced him you'd be fine and he relented. He didn't want to have another argument leading into a silent treatment event happen. Seeing you without Zoro around, you seemed extremely interested in whatever history Robin told you. You chose to tell Robin about your situation with your family, explaining up to your meeting Zoro and leaving off your current marriage to him. You'd tell her one day, maybe once you'd come to know her more and trust her fully. Robin, though, knows there's something missing from your story. She can see it in your eyes, but she can't see exactly what it is.

What she does see happens when Eneru is nearly about to electrocute the five of you standing before him, Nami hiding behind a bit of debris. Once again Zoro has placed you behind him, and Robin can hear him quietly telling you to go to Nami, which you deny.

“I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to help you.”

Zoro's trying so hard to get you to safety that he nearly misses Eneru targeting Robin, only really noticing when you'd pushed away from him and ran to her, only to be hit with Eneru's attack after you'd shoved her out of the way.

“[Y/N]!!”

Robin's by your side and making sure you're still breathing, relief washing over her when she sees you've just been knocked out. She's more surprised at your actions and how Zoro's sending the worst glare she's ever seen towards Eneru, placing himself between the three of you.

“Don't you dare touch her again.”

“She's likely dead now so that won't be a problem.”

Eneru’s comment nearly pushes Zoro over the edge before Robin calls him.

“Swordsman, calm down! She's still breathing!”

“Doesn't matter! He shouldn't…she shouldn't have…”

Watching Zoro fight for his words and grip his swords tighter, it makes Robin realize she just might be right.

She believes it more so when you all have defeated Eneru, and are recuperating afterwards during a celebration with the Skypieans and Shandorians. Zoro had stayed by your side most of the time, constantly checking to make sure you were alright despite his injuries being worse. You barely seemed to notice, but Robin definitely did. Eventually she sees the same thing Sanji had the night before. You'd gone off with Nami once again, but also Luffy, Chopper, and Aisa this time, the five of you playing some game the little Shandorian girl had come up with, and Robin sees Zoro watching you all, but mostly you. She sees his eyes soften just a bit, the slightest smile on his face while he watches you laugh, especially when Luffy tosses Aisa to you and you catch her, making her squeal in laughter as well. This was the most peaceful she'd seen Zoro yet, and it was all because of you it seems.

How sweet.

You two are the last to wake the next morning, before your abrupt departure, and Robin is sure her hunch is right seeing you snuggled up close to Zoro with one of his arms around you before Sanji kicks Zoro to wake him up. Of course this causes an argument as soon as Zoro is up and in Sanji's face, you barely awake and rubbing your eyes to figure out what's happening.

“What the hell, I was sleeping.”

“You and the swordsman were,” Robin starts to smile while your eyes widen and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, “but we need to get going soon.”

“R-Right… did um… anyone–”

“Yeah you were really cozy with Zoro all night.” Nami grins and you have to hide your face in your hands, Zoro and Sanji still shouting at each other while Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper are gathering their things like it's a game.

Once you all do take off, as you're running to leave, you nearly trip over the ground to the point Zoro grabs you like the sack of gold everyone has and throws you over his shoulder.

“Wait, Zoro!! Put me down!!” You pound on his back a bit before he adjusts you over his shoulder better.

“Not if you're gonna trip like that!”

You don't even bother to fight him and just hang there the rest of the way to Merry, Zoro finally putting you down once you all get there, Robin hears the quietest apology from him while you shake your head and move to help get everything ready to go.

They're very interesting, those two…maybe he does actually like her.

+!+

Landing back in the sea did not go as planned for you. Your air filled octopus balloon friend let you down easily for the most part, until he suddenly ran out of air and the Merry was being quickly dropped into the water. You grabbed as tightly to the railing as you could while everyone else did the same, or grabbed each other in the case of Luffy, Usopp and Chopper, and Sanji not at all complaining as Nami latched onto him. The splash down flooded the deck with water, but once it drained enough, Merry settled and you were back as close to solid ground as possible.

“Everyone good?!” Luffy shouts a bit, Usopp and Chopper still holding onto him while most everyone states they're fine. He furrows his brow when he doesn't hear your voice or see you. “Where's [Y/N]?”

“Did she get swept out when the water drained?!” Nami feels panic seep into her bones while she looks for you in the water.

The second Nami's question reaches him, Zoro is in the water on the side of the ship you'd been on, making what felt like the millionth rescue from water he'd done in his life, most of them being for you due to your inability to swim. The first time it happened you'd been pushed in by one of your bounty targets before Zoro struck them down, quick enough that he was able to reach in and pull you out by your shirt collar like a cat by the scruff of its neck while you flailed about. You didn't eat a Devil Fruit, your parents simply never taught you to swim. Your brother attempted to, but only for so long before your parents heard and barred you from doing so. A lady didn't need to know how to swim, your mother tried to reason with you.

Zoro's able to reach you in time before you get too far down in the sea, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you upwards, surfacing not even a minute after he'd jumped in, making you gasp for air and cling tightly to him, almost suffocating your constant savior while you spit up water from your lungs.

“Zoro's got [Y/N]!! Let the ladder down!”

You hated this, hated needing to be saved anytime you ended up in the water. It's become so much that you aren't sure if you really are crying while you grip onto Zoro, or if it's just water dripping down your face, despite how hard you're biting your lip and tightening your hold on him. It's not like you had a good excuse, not like those who had eaten Devil Fruits.

Zoro puts an arm around your shoulders and stops for just a second once he gets the both of you to the ladder before starting to climb up.

“Hey,” you almost miss him speaking to you, even once he starts trying to soothe you by rubbing your back, “I've got you. You're all right.”

He's quiet while he speaks to you, whispering reassurances that all is well, you're okay, he's not going to let you go until you're on the deck again. You're alive, he's saved you again, kept you from drowning like he has Chopper and Luffy in the past. Like he always has.

Sometimes it feels like all you do is take and take and take from Zoro, from all of them. You wonder sometimes if your parents were right, when they said you were nothing more than a greedy child still, always taking but never giving back. Despite the fact you do your fair share on the ship, in battles, it feels like you shouldn't be here.

Once you're back on the deck, you still don't let go of Zoro, even when he tells you to at least loosen your grip before you choke him to death. You do, at the very least, release your grip on his shoulders and instead hide your face in his shirt, trying to keep your worried crewmates from realizing you are crying after all. Zoro simply holds your head in place, even with Luffy and Usopp trying to check you over while Chopper runs to get his bag and help you. Sanji is quickly throwing his suit jacket around you and trying to get Luffy and Usopp away so they don't cause you more distress, while Robin suggests bringing you to your bed, and Nami's run off to your room to get dry, warm clothes for you. Despite the slight distrust he still feels for Robin, Zoro nods at her suggestion, bringing Sanji's jacket around you a bit more before lifting you up in his arms, knowing you weren't letting him go anytime soon. You don't let go, not even for a second, until you're in your room and Zoro has laid you on your bed, telling you to wait for Chopper to get there while he tries to leave and change into dry clothes himself. He's stopped only by you grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stay, before Zoro promises he'll come right back. You only let go after that, giving a slight nod when he turns to leave you to change clothes yourself.

“Zoro?”

He's almost out of the room before you stop him, making him look over his shoulder to you.

“Thank you…again.”

He shakes his head, telling you not to mention it.

“I'll always save you if you need it, wife.”

+!+

You're struck with a nasty fever and congested cough the next day, blaming it on the unexpected swim you'd taken and the slightly colder area you were in. Chopper's given you all the medicine you can take for now, to try and bring your fever down, the rest was up to your own body to fight it off. Your crewmates were kind enough to take turns watching you, as you all had done when Nami was ill before you brought Chopper on board. She and Zoro are the ones to spend the most time watching you; Luffy tries to cheer you up with jokes, Usopp tells you more of his tall tales, Robin has taken to reading to you from a book she'd let you borrow, Sanji is mostly quiet so you can sleep, and Chopper is in and out checking on you and seeing if your fever has reduced any. Nami is almost as quiet as Sanji, working on a map while you rest.

Then Zoro.

He continues to reassure you that everything is OK, not constantly while he's there but he can tell, when you trail off in your sentences and look away from him, that you feel bad about something. He's not sure what, but he tells you everything is alright, you're alive and you made it out of a fight against a false god and a near drowning.

“‘M sorry you have to watch me…instead of doing your training.”

If he'd been any closer to sleep, Zoro would've missed what you said entirely. Luckily for you, he's awake enough to raise an eyebrow and shake his head.

“Don't worry about it. It's what crewmates do.”

It's what a husband does too…

“I feel like all I do is take from you…”

You don't look at him, finding your ceiling more interesting as you look over the wood pattern to avoid his eyes. You know he'll try to reassure you again, Zoro was good at that, despite his indifference to your pretend marriage. He'd never made you feel like you were a burden or less than, even if you really did mostly take and rarely give in return.

Zoro's not even sure why he always tries to make you realize things are okay, that you haven't done anything wrong. He knows about your parents acting like you should be seen and not heard, such a crappy thing to do to your own child in his opinion. Your parents were well off, they’d give to you and your brother constantly, then make you feel like you were selfish for not returning the “favor” by marrying who they chose for you. They really seemed to embody the “not every parent deserves a child” belief.

Thank God you had someone who cared for you though.

Before even saying a word in response, Zoro quietly takes hold of your free hand, letting you lace your fingers with his and making you look him in the eye again.

“Take all you want, I'll give you what I can. You can return it another time, all right?”

You want to cry, as Zoro strokes your hand with his thumb, and you nod a bit, swallowing down the tears before they can start. The things he does to you, even after telling you he isn’t here for romance. The way he acts, the way he treats you, it really makes you want to believe he’s lying to himself, lying to you to keep up his image. It gives you the slightest bit of hope that things could change one day.

“O-okay…”

We're not a couple…I don't know why you put up with me…

Once your fever is past, you're back to your normal routine of helping out wherever possible on the ship, spending your free time in the kitchen with Sanji, helping Nami with a map, or staying near Zoro while he goes back to training. He doesn't mind if you quietly sit near him, whatever book you've borrowed from Robin in your lap. It feels almost domestic to him, and Zoro has to brush that thought away quickly, lest he start fantasizing about keeping you as his wife. He stops any random thoughts of you two sharing a bed permanently, of taking you out somewhere on the next island for a date, or convincing you to stay up with him during his night watch, just to talk about your relationship and future. No, those thoughts can't be entertained, not now at least, he can't be distracted by such frivolous feelings like wanting to hold your hand all of sudden, or expecting a good morning hug or whatever. Romance isn't in his plans, it's not on his radar. You being his wife isn't supposed to be permanent.

Still though, a thought lingers despite his pushing the others out, when Zoro catches you dozing off in the corner, still fatigued from your body fighting off that fever.

Would it really be so bad to stay married to her?

He's not sure, even as he sets his weight back in place, wiping away any sweat he can and putting on a shirt before settling himself next to you, gently leaning you against him as you sleep. You stir a bit but he quickly quiets you.

“Just me. Go back to sleep.”

“Mm…’kay…”

Despite the scent of steel and sweat, you snuggle closer to Zoro, him wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you still. He lays his head on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting those thoughts come back, not stopping a single one this time.

Thoughts of a possible future where you two stay married and act like it, where you treat each other as husband and wife, where you've both reached your goals, where you're settled down somewhere safe enough to have a child or two perhaps.

Thoughts Zoro never once imagined entertaining, but now they take over his dreams to the point he's started changing his mind.

Maybe not so bad.

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Goji, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Chapter 1:

“Mom” Megumi said, knocking me out of my own thoughts.

“Are you okay?” 

That question was a hard one to answer. Leave it to Megumi to read me like the back of a book. We are currently on the way home after you picked him up from Jujutsu High. His last class ended at 4 and unfortunately you  didn’t make it to pick him up until 4:30. You got stuck in traffic after having a long argument with his father. If you were counting you  would say that it’s the 10th argument you have had with him this week and it’s only Wednesday

Releasing a quiet sigh you put on the same mask you always wear for Megumi.

“Yea I’m okay, how was class today?” you quickly reply, giving him your biggest smile while nudging his arm from the driver's seat. Since he recently turned 14 years old you have allowed him to sit in the passenger seat from time to time. Mostly when you pick him up from school so the other students don’t find some reason to pick on him. Megumi isn’t the most social so you do everything in your power to not be that embarrassing mom that refuses to let their kid grow up. If it was up to you he would be 14 years old forever.

 “Good..” he answered hesitantly like he had more to say. You can see him chewing on the string of his hoodie, something you know he does when he's nervous. 

“Anything else?” you question hoping he will give you a hint as to what he's thinking about. You never push but right now you are worried it’s something serious. 

“I have a tournament on Friday at 6pm.” Megumi muttered quietly.

You let out a sigh in relief that it isn’t bad news. He had you worried there for a second. Megumi has been in martial arts since he was 12 years old. You were hesitant to let him join at first but realized that you did feel better with the thought of him being able to defend himself. He fell in love with the sport and since then you have been his number one supporter attending all his events and taking him to all his practices. 

“You remember what we talked about right mom,,..I just need to know if you are serious because I am?” suddenly you begin to feel uneasy. You hadn't forgotten but maybe you just pushed it down so you wouldn’t have to think about it. You and him had an agreement, both of you frustrated with the treatment they were receiving from his father.

It wasn’t an easy decision and you have been putting it off for over 4 years now. That was until it started affecting Megumi's mental health a few years ago. Megumi was diagnosed with acute depression and was placed on small doses of medication to help with his anxiety. While he got the help he needed from a psychologist you still haven’t done your part and you knew what needed to be done.

“If he doesn’t come we have to move on.” Megumi whispered and you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat.

Flashback

You can remember the day clearly. The day you were set to be wed to Toji Fushiguro.  When you got the call from your parents it was October 20th and you were walking into work. That morning you recall the leaves were falling from the trees at an extreme pace as the wind picked up rapidly around you.

Entering the office you were met by numerous stares and hushed whispers. You couldn’t make out many of the words but you remember hearing “married” and “Fushiguro”. You remember thinking to yourself that Fushiguro was the last name of the mafia leaders that your dad just represented in court. Your firm had managed to secure this case and it was an important one to a lot of important people. This was a case that went on for a year and lucky your firm was able to win. You didn’t think your parents would be alive right now if they failed. Even so you had no idea why everyone was looking at you.

Your questions were answered as soon as you walked into your fathers office. You were met with not only your parents but 2 middle aged men in suits along with a small boy that couldn’t be older than 12. 

You recognized the men as Toji Fushiguro and his father who you could recall having the last name Zenin. You only recognise them because they were a part of the many mafia leaders on trial that got off. You were aware of Toji having a son, who you assumed was the small boy standing next to him. 

Toji was nice to look, 6'2 but his height wasn't what you were focused on at the moment. It was his almost perfect face.

“Excuse me dad, you called me into your office, did you need something?.” you cut to the chase feeling uncomfortable standing in the room. You felt as though you were interrupting an important conversation and didn’t understand why your dad would call you into his office early in the morning. 

“Yes, gentlemen this is my lovely daughter I was telling you about” my dads voice boomed in the room as he guided me to sit in an open chair facing Toji. You could already tell by your fathers  voice he was coming up with some terrible idea. You were used to him trying to be flashy and show off to his colleagues and clients so you figured this time was no different. 

“Does she know about the agreement?” Toji said with a look not fazed by my fathers antics. 

“What agreement?” I said slightly, raising my voice looking to my father for an answer. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Toji shaking his head and his father looking unamused.

“Watch your mouth.” my father started his explanation. “You are to be wed to Toji, we have entered an arrangement with the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia. In exchange for winning the case his son would give us the honor of marrying my only daughter. We also will be greatly compensated for entering the family.” 

If you had a bottle of water you would drink it just to spit it out.

“Like hell I am” you said laughing while sitting in the chair holding your stomach from laughing so hard. What did he think this was some fucked up mafia romance novel. You knew your father was crazy but not this crazy. 

It took you a minute to recover from that mini laugh session. Tears of laughter were falling from your face. You felt a tap when you recovered that caused you to look up. You were met by the small boy in front of you holding out a water bottle. 

“My mom used to give me water when I would cry” he said in a quiet tone. 

“Thank you… what’s your name?” you said, taking the water from his hands gently. He looked very timed and you felt as though you didn't want to frighten him. 

“Megumi” he whispered while moving to stand back beside his dad. 

“Daughter, I'm serious. You are 20 years old and never had a boyfriend. You had your choice to marry wealthy. Our family could benefit substantially from this ordeal, plus you will also be greatly compensated.” my dad said with a stern voice. I used to be scared when he would use that tone of voice. You went to interject and curse him out but his next words stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m not giving you a choice here, the papers have already been signed”

What does he mean the papers have already been signed. The last time you remember signing anything was several days ago when he asked you to sign an agreement paper for him….

“You said that paperwork was so I can take lead on the next case” you said feeling deceived and knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up of your father seeing your true potential. 

“Technically you will still be lead on the next case” your father said chuckling to himself. 

At this point you were left speechless. You didn’t know what to do. 

You thought of crying, thought of yelling, hell you even thought of throwing something in the room. You looked around at your surroundings but stopped when you landed on Megumi's face. 

He looked terrified. Why did he look terrified?

It hit you as soon as the question popped in your brain. He was terrified of you. Megumi was scared of how you would react and for some reason you didn’t want him to be scared of you. 

Taking a deep breath you addressed the room at once. Your tone of voice cold and stern.

“When?”

Flashback Over

Since that day you and Megumi have been joint at the hip. You got married to Toji 6 years ago and the marriage has been one of the hardest things you have gone through in your 26 years of life. 

You were wed by the end of the week after having that meeting in your fathers office. The wedding was a large wedding with over 300 guests that you didn’t know. At the time you didn’t know just how wealthy the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia was but you found out that day. The venue was decorated beautifully and the itinerary was laid out nicely even though you had no say in any of the schedule or the  decorations. You were practically treated as a guest at your own wedding. 

The Zenin’s provided you with a money compensation that you have kept saved away and have only spent on Megumi’s education. You enrolled him in the finest institution to make up for the fact that he had to deal with this fucked up situation. 

Now that you think back on everything it happened so fast and life has passed you by quickly. You were still married to Toji and living in his two bedroom apartment with Megumi. Toji managed to blow through his money gambling resulting in you guys downsizing in the last few years. You offered to pay for a better living arrangement but he declined your offer. He said he preferred smaller living. 

Not that it mattered because he doesn’t return home most of the time and if he does it’s late at night. Even though Toji’s family has money and you were both compensated for the arrangement he continuously blames you and Megumi for him not being able to ‘work’. You know what he means when he says ‘work’ and you suspect that he is already taking up odd jobs which has resulted in more arguments this week. 

Focusing back to the present you realize that you have arrived home. The lights are on so you assume Toji is still inside and you just hope he has calmed down from the argument earlier.

You and Megumi get out of the car to head inside. Picking up trash in the front of the entrance as you make your way up to the 4th floor. 

You just hope for peace for the rest of the night.

✿❀○❀✿

You don’t know why you stay.

Entering the apartment you aren’t shocked anymore by the scene in front of you. The living room table and the kitchen island you just cleaned the morning before was dirty. You only left out a few hours ago so it only took less than 4 hours for Toji to create the mess. Magazines and beer bottles on the table and carry out food containers left on the kitchen island. In the corner of the living room table was a gun along with a knife and several cigarette packs. At least he had the nerve to use an ashtray for the cigarettes. Sighing loudly you tell Megumi to head to his room noticing that the boy is already moving to head that way. Just like you, he is used to a routine whenever Toji is home. 

Your body moved like it was on autopilot. You quickly looked under the cabinet for trash bags to dispose of the empty items that he left along with the magazines. Toji reads them when he's here but you notice he never takes them when he leaves. They always end up staying on the table unless you throw them out. 

The gun and the knife were another story. You accidently threw out a small knife one time by accident when you were cleaning and Toji made it his mission to remind you of it constantly that night. He was mad and in the end it resulted in you and Megumi having to get a hotel for the night to get away from the constant yelling.

“What is wrong with me?” you question yourself outloud. You should have left a long time ago and when you found out the contract expired a few weeks ago you promised Megumi that you would take him with you. You hadn’t known that the marriage contract you ‘signed’ was only good for 5 years. So while you were still married to Toji the mafia argument that binds you guys together was no longer valid. You could get a divorce finally but when it comes to the custody of  Megumi that's a different story. 

Toji knew you were planning to divorce him. He actually pre-signed the papers last week stating that he would be gone before everything was even finalized. You were nervous to even bring up the conversation of taking custody of Megumi. Would he even care?

Focusing back to the living room you stare at the clean space. Everything was clean and clear except for the gun and knife. You didn’t know what to do as you didn’t want to touch the items. You were out of gloves since the last time you had to clean blood off of a towel Toji left on the couch. 

Not wanting to leave it there, you realized you had no choice but to wake up Toji. 

Walking to the master bedroom you turned on the hall light before peaking into the bedroom. “Toji” you said weakly hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 

“I’m not sleep”

“And if I was that weak ass whisper of my name wouldn’t have woke me up.”

You roll your eyes pushing open the door to enter. Your eyes adjust to the dim light and you are met with Toji laying on his back scrolling on his phone. The thick black cover is only pulled over his mid sections and his shirt is thrown on the floor next to the bed along with his slippers he occasionally wears indoors. His abs are on full display and his black hair has grown out, making his bed hair look messier. Even though you and him don’t get along, you have eyes, he looks like a finely made roman statue. 

“Can you please get the gun and knife off the table so I can go lay down peacefully?” you said trying your hardest to be nice for the sake of Megumi in the other room.

“Why can’t you just move it?” he replied, smirking while leaning up on his elbows causing the blanket to slip off his lap. 

“My eyes are up here ma.” he continued smirking at your obvious display of checking him out. He knows he looks good which doesn’t help.

“Cut the shit, I don’t know what you have used those for. Just move them so Megumi doesn’t see them.” you gave up on being nice. Toji makes it so difficult for you to remain calm. 

“Megumi this Megumi that, a little gun isn’t gonna scare him he grew up around it.” stated Toji laying back down on the bed. 

“Please Toji.” you sighed out walking further in the room. He looked over from his phone getting a better look of you. You could see his eyes taking in your black and red sundress you rushed to throw on earlier while you were rushing out. He must have thought of something because next thing you know he’s sitting back up.

“Where were you going to lay down?” he asked, looking me over. 

“The other room.” you answered. Even though he already knew the answer. Anytime Toji was present you choose to sleep in Megumi's rooms on an air mattress you guys kept for times like this. It was easier so that you could actually get some rest. 

“I’ll make you a deal. Come lay with me and I'll move the gun.”

“Fine” you gave in too quickly like you always end up doing. That's how you find yourself laid out on the bed with a half naked Toji above you. 

Toji started leaving kisses down your neck moving slowly. He loves to tease. It's been so long since you have hooked up with each other. You were sure Toji finds company in other people but you on the other hand don’t have the time or energy to venture out. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Get out of your head ma,.. think later” Toji muttered while taking your left breast into his mouth. He moved further down your body leaving several marks, he always leaves marks. By now you are whining and tugging on his head trying to move him further down to where you need him.

“Toji stop teasing.” you beg resulting in him biting hard on your right thigh. Drawing a sharp hiss out of your throat. 

“Was that an order babe?” Toji said, looking up from in between my thighs. He’s in that kind of mood today. You could tell it was going to be a long night. 

“No.” you say, turning your head into the pillow next to you while he adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders. A stutter left you at the movement. 

“Look at me” he said. Turning back and looking down you were met with a sight that always makes you weak. Toji had such an intense look on his face his eyes shined with a look of hunger. His once brown eyes looked to be black. He turned back to the task at hand knowing that your eyes wouldn’t leave him.

He left a couple more kisses and marks on your thighs and legs before burying his face into the middle of your legs. Your legs shook as he swiped his tongue over your clit before moving to fuck you with his tongue. His nose is now grazing your clit as he tongue fucks you. 

“F-fuck, please” you practically scream. You would be fucking into his face if it wasn’t for the fact that your legs were over his shoulders. 

Toji always ate you out as if he was starving. His mouth and tongue never missed anywhere grazing over all the sensitive parts of your pussy.You felt like you were floating every single time. It was always messy because he loved to take his time. He loved to make a mess of you. 

“Please, please–” you were holding his hair at point, being careful not to tug. You know if you did he would stop and you didn’t want that. You were practically crying which you knew was one of Toji’s favorite things. 

“Please what doll?” he said looking into your eyes, mouth wet and you can see his tongue licking at his bottom lip getting more of a taste of you. 

“Can I cum please Toji?” you asked as you could feel a couple of tears fall onto your check. By now he has been eating you out for over 30 minutes and you have given up on acting like you didn’t need him inside you.

“Hmm,,.not yet only after you have been good to me” Toji said, moving up from the position he was in. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Get on your knees doll.” he ordered. You could barely feel your legs as you got off the bed and kneeled between his legs. You hadn’t moved quick enough for Toji because you felt his hand firmly gripping your hair tugging you closer to him. 

“Suck me” Toji said, looking down at you. He hadn’t removed his sweatpants yet but you know what he wanted. 

You placed your lips on the outline of his dick. Sucking and licking at the cotton as if it wasn’t in the way. He groaned several times lightly pulling at your hair while grinding into your face. While he was patient with you when it came to his pleasure, that was a different story. 

Toji stood up pulling his sweatpants down while still keeping a firm grip on your hair.

“Ahh, wait-” you were cut off by him practically shoving himself down your throat. You were extremely wet now and knew you had to be leaking onto the floor. He was choking you on his cock which caused more tears to stream down your face. 

His hips moved pushing him deeper in your throat while his hands worked to control your head. You could feel the tip of his dick in the back of your throat. 

Toji was well endowed and if it wasn’t for you being with him sexually for the last 6 years you knew there was no way you would be able to take him this deep. He knew this and reminded you from time to time that he has ‘trained your throat’ for him. 

The sounds in the room were deep groans from Toji and moans from you that could be heard only when he slipped out of your throat. You could tell by his movement that Toji was close. Groaning his hips jerked and he slipped back, tapping his wet cock against your tongue. 

“Fu- Swallow it” he stuttered in between his higher pitched groans. He was moaning at this point. Surely enough he emptied in your mouth without giving you a chance to take a breath until he was done. 

As you went to swallow you were yanked to stand on your legs by your throat. He had a firm grasp on your throat that almost caused me to choke. He pulled me in front of him so you only had to glance up some to see his face. 

“Now swallow” he said, his hand not leaving your throat wanting to feel you swallow his load. You swallowed looking him straight in the eyes as you did. Your eyes were still teary and your legs were weak as you stood in front of him. That seemed to not be enough for him. 

“Open” he said in almost a whisper tone. Grazing his hand against your lips he looked as if he was holding himself back to not lose control. His eyes remained black and his expression didn’t give away what he was going to do. 

Toji gently grabbed your face with his other hand while you opened your mouth, remembering to keep eye contact. He leaned down and spit directly in your mouth. Hand still around your throat as you swallowed his spit. His spit tasted like cigarettes and you can smell the beer strong from his mouth. 

‘Smack’ his hand lightly smacked your face while he spit in your mouth again. The slap wasn’t hard but it still made a sound that echoed in the room. 

“I told you to stop thinking doll, it’s okay i’ll help you relax” Toji said walking you backwards until you fell on the bed with him on top of you. 

“Do you want me to make you cum?” he said, teasing his fingers at my entrance. 

“Please, y-you promised.” you sobbed at this point needing him inside you. You felt wet and empty and knew that the only way you would get relief is if he was inside you. 

“Promised?” he chuckled, slipping two fingers inside of you. He never starts with one knowing you will open right up for him. 

“Hmm.” he hums. 

“I don’t remember making that promise.” Toji moved on to tease your clit while his two fingers continued pumping into you at a slow rate. You were moaning into your hand while you were almost riding his fingers at this point. If he stops you, you might die.  

“I’m tired, maybe we should stop for the night doll.” he said, not looking tired at all. You knew he was testing you to see what kind of reaction he could get out of you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but you needed to cum. 

You moved from under him pushing him on his back so you were now on top of him. Your legs were still shaking but you moved on and you were on your knees hovered over him. 

Reaching behind, you grip his cock lining him up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his throbbing member entered you. You forgot that Toji doesn’t need much of a recovery after cumming, his second rounds always last longer. You might have taken on more than you can handle. 

“I found the papers you had in the bedside drawer” he said, giving you one of his flashy smiles while he leaned back with his hands behind his head.

What papers? The only thing you had in the drawer was…. Oh shit

You freeze up, not moving scared of his reaction.

“Don’t stop now doll” Toji grabbed my waist moving my body up and down slowly on his cock. 

“If you do a good job i’ll sign them for you” he casually said watching your boobs move up and down because of his actions.

“You promise?” you choked out feeling tears threatening to escape your eyes. He gave you a look like he was searching for what to say. His black eyes looked like their regular  brown color as he sat up so you two were face to face. 

“I promise.” Toji whispered into your lips kissing you for the first time tonight. You can’t recall the last time you guys kissed. This kiss was passionate and you were right about his breath smelling like beer but now you were fully tasting it. You weren’t used to this kind of emotion from Toji. You didn’t even compete for dominance just wanting to feel him close to you. 

The room was filled with moans and cries as you rode him into oblivion. Motivated by him signing the papers but you were also feeling an urgent need to make this memorable. Something was telling you that this was the last time that you would be able to feel him.

 You couldn’t tell who came first but you felt it as Toji filled you up. You thanked  yourself for starting birth control recently. 

When you caught your breath you moved to clean yourself up leaving Toji in the room. You took a shower in the bathroom using hot water to relax your muscles. After washing you glanced at yourself in the mirror. 

“Jesus.” you knew Toji left plenty of marks but you looked like you had been mauled. 

Leaving the bathroom after changing into one of your night gowns you were stopped in your tracks. Toji was now lying under the covers curled up on the right side of the bed. The lamp was on by the desk and while you walked over to turn it off you noticed papers and a pen sitting on the table. 

Picking it up you realized he had actually signed it. Toji signed the custody papers giving you full custody of Megumi. 

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sob. At this point you didn’t know if you were crying tears of joy or sadness. While you were losing a marriage you were gaining something more important. You couldn’t help but to have feelings for Toji after all these years and the thought of leaving scared you as he was the only thing you have known for the last few years. Starting over was scary but you knew you needed to. 

Turning to leave the room you were stopped by a hand on your arm.

“Don’t go. Lay with me, one last time.” looking down you were met by the face of the man you married 6 years ago.

tag: @beetusbritt❤ divider by @cafekitsune art credit 1: ig: arekushisu (commission do not use) art credit 2: twitter: ayushnz_ ❀follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀

-kenzie & des

[lil-frenchfri77]

Begin Again Chapter 2

Summary: Ever since Bella came back to Forks things between y/n and her boys have been different. Embry and Quil stopped answering phone calls and texts, they’ve even been avoiding her everytime she shows up at their house. So y/n does the only thing she can think to do, she latches onto Jacob just like Bella, and when he starts acting like Embry and Quil did, she makes the decision to not put so much effort into a friendship that is clearly one sided. But what happens one day when Sam’s pack is in town at the same time as y/n and her new friends and two certain boys imprint on their former best friend? And what happens when a former best friend doesn’t feel the same way?

Authors note: Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!! I am actually so freaking excited that so many people liked the first chapter. When I posted this I never thought that I would be getting any kind of traction or reads but the 20 people that liked my first chapter are really making me feel good about myself and my writing skills. I don't know how consistent my chapter updating will be I have a really hard time with sticking to things but the enthusiasm i'm feeling after posting for the first time is really making my productivity flow.

Not beta read, lemme know If there are any egregious spelling or grammar errors and I will 100% go back and fix it

Word count: 1.8k

Embry Call x Fem!Swan!Reader x Quil Ateara

Slight Stiles Stlinski x Reader

Chapter 1 | Master list | Chapter 3

For the next two weeks your routine is almost exactly the same. You meet Scott and Stiles by your locker every morning and sit with their friends at lunch. It is such a crazy thing to think that if you had gotten to school any later that day then you would have never met them. And looking back, you can’t imagine not being friends with them now. They were filling the void that Embry and Quil had left in your heart. 

Your life was looking up and you were doing great, even Bella seemed to be doing better. She was hanging out with you and Jacob, and had even started going out with some of the kids from school. You and Stiles were getting closer to each other too. You spent most of your time in class, the ones you shared, talking to him and goofing off. You both had gotten in trouble a few times but that didn't deter you from talking. Like now. 

“Hey, so I was thinking about going into town this weekend, I need to do some clothes shopping and I was wondering, if perhaps, you’re free?” You had been meaning to ask him for the past few days but you had only now just worked up the courage. It was the first time you would be spending any time together outside of school and you were nervous. 

“Oh, uhh. Yeah totally!” His response was almost instant and the way that his cheeks turned a light pink told you that he didn't mean to answer you that fast. “Um, I mean, Yeah. I’m down to go with you.” Stiles blushed even harder and then turned forward to pay attention to what the teacher was saying. 

“Okay, cool. I’ll come pick you up around noon on Saturday?” 

“That’s good.” That was the end of the conversation. It seemed he was too caught up in the fact that you had asked him out to remember to talk to you for the rest of class. 

After school that day Jacob was leaning on your car, waiting for you to come out. He had been doing this a lot lately, waiting for you to get out of school so he could get a ride from you back to the reservation. Which didn’t really make sense to you but you figured if he liked doing this then why change it. 

“You will never guess what I did today.” It was the first thing that came out of your mouth when you got close enough to him. You couldn't wait to tell him about your hang out with Stiles on Saturday. “I asked Stiles on a date and he said yes!” You couldn't contain your excitement.  It was too hard to give him the time to guess what you did so you decided to just tell him. 

“Wow, that's a big step for you.” Jacob smiled, glad to see you happy. He knew that after the last few months you had that you deserved all the happiness you could get. “When are you going? Your sister asked me to go to the movies with her and this Mike guy on Sunday night and I really don't want to have to deal with it all alone.” 

“Well, we’re hanging out Saturday afternoon so I'm totally free to go with you guys on Sunday.” Jacob had had a crush on Bella for as long as you could remember, but you knew that he didn't want to be stuck in an awkward situation with her and some other guy. 

“Sooooo?” Stiles drawled, “what exactly are we looking for? Or what exactly are you looking for?” You two had been out for about 2 hours now and so far all you had found was a puffy green jacket and a pair of fluffy brown socks, which you only bought because they matched Stiles eyes. 

“I don’t know yet. I guess I'll know when I see it.” Your reply was nonchalant but you knew exactly what you were looking for. You just didn't want to let him know before you actually found it. Last week when you and your dad were in town you had seen a book that Stiles had been talking about religiously and with his birthday coming up you thought it would be the perfect gift. 

“Do you want to grab lunch too or do you want to just eat at my house?” you ask him, not seeing the way he turns to look at you with heart eyes. 

“We can go to the diner after you're done shopping.” He suggests. 

“Yea totally.” 

That’s when you heard it, the loud rumble of laughter from a group of boys at the other end of the street. You both looked up to where the noise came from. A slight gasp came from your parted lips as you saw Quil and Embry play fighting with the other boys from Sam’s group. Your face dropped as the two boys seemed to look up in unison and lock eyes with you. 

“Do you know them? They look like they know you.” Stiles asked, looking over at you to see you in some kind of trance staring at them. “Hey, y/n/n? Are you okay?” 

That seemed to snap you out of whatever daze you were stuck in. You looked away from them and back to Stiles before nodding and grabbing his hand to drag him into the nearest building. Which happened to be the bookstore you were looking for in the first place. 

“Sorry about that, they were just some old friends of mine. We don't really talk anymore and I haven’t seen them in some time so it was kind of shocking.” The apology spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it but that make it untrue. It was hard seeing them like that, happy and having fun when they left you feeling the way that they did. But you also couldn't help feeling a sort of resentment at them. 

“Nah it’s alright.” He dismissed taking a look around the bookstore. You had completely forgotten why you were in this store for a second, but when you remembered you had to hurry and spot the book before he could. 

Luckily you were able to find it and discreetly buy it while he looked around the store and grabbed a few things off the shelfs. When he was done checking out you slipped your hand into his, locked fingers, and led him out of the store. 

They had never felt like this before. As they locked eyes with you they saw their future flash before their eyes. You, Embry, Quil, and a happy little family. The euphoria and sense of calm that washed over them as they saw all of this was the most exquisite feeling either of the boys had ever felt. It was like nothing they had ever experienced and they had an inkling that they would never feel it again without you. 

When they watched you grab that boy's hand and run off it was like their entire world came crashing down. Their hearts, now beating in unison, felt like they were cracking. Before they could ever have you, you were gone and with someone else. Embry looked away first, face crumbling under the weight of these newfound emotions. He had never felt anything so fast, and to have it all ripped away from him so suddenly felt like a knife right into his soul. 

Quill was no better. The two boys had always shared everything growing up, they were the closest to each other of all the pack members. So it made sense that they would imprint on the same girl. And of course that girl would be their childhood best friend. The same girl they pinned after for years before turning for the first time and never speaking to her again. It was the hardest thing they ever had to do, and now, because of their actions, they were reaping the consequences. 

The dejection and rejection they were feeling was amplified by each other, every emotion coursing through their veins heightened by what the other was feeling. They wanted to whine and curl up into a ball at your feet and beg you to forgive them for the rest of their lives if that's what it took to make it up to you. 

It seemed as though the other boys around them knew not to say anything. No teasing remarks or mocking jabs were taken at the expense of the boys. All of them could sense that Embry and Quil had just imprinted on you. Everyone saw the way that you ran off like the sight of them would burn you if you looked for too long. 

“Come on, I think it’s time to head back.” it was Sam who spoke up. Always the one to take charge and take the lead in situations where no one knew what to do. But even now, he was struggling to find the right words to say or the right actions to take that could help these boys. He had never heard of an imprintee rejecting their mate. 

“No, but, we should go talk to her.” Embry whined out. Just the thought of leaving you behind after just finding out that he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with you sounded like agony. He would rather never be able to shift again than leave without you. 

“I think it's pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk to either of you right now. Give it time. Think about how you want to approach her, what you’ll say. Right now is not the time or place for any of this, especially after that reaction.” Sam reasoned. He knew that getting everyone back to the pack house right now was his only option. He couldn't let Quil or Embry do something stupid and impulsive that could put people in danger. 

Everyone could see the way that the two boys hesitated to do what Sam asked. The longing and desire to be with you, so present in their eyes that they were waiting for something to happen. So Sam did the only reasonable thing he could think to do in that moment, and he commanded everyone to head back to the pack house at that instant. 

Begrudgingly Embry and Quil did as they were told and turned around to head back to the house. Looking back every so often, while the shop you had disappeared into was still in sight, to see if they could catch another glimpse of you through the windows or see you leaving. Just as the shop was about to disappear from their view the door gently swung open and you walked out laughing, head thrown back and a hand on your stomach as you full body cackled at whatever the mystery boy you were with voiced. Said boy, who was holding your other hand as he exited the building after you.

It tore their hearts even further in two. So with their tails, real and figurative, tucked between their legs they made their way back. Heads hung low and spirits completely drained.

What had started out as a normal Saturday had officially become one of the worst days of their lives.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #59] Betting Against Yeonjun

warnings: there's a section towards the start where I was really going thru it with my adoration for jk lmao bingo if you spot it!!!, seokjin, byeol at her best!!, jungkook also at his best!!!!, mmm I luv our starluvrs <3, conversations re: the first night they met waaaa, okay phew where to start: smut, jungkook's phone gallery is a hotbed of sin (recording), semi-public (club booths), bratty b, dominant koo, a lil degradation, (he says something that would piss me off (b is a better woman than I!! (but she gets her own back!!))), oral (m), lots of lovely words, a little titty worship <3, b on top (yeehaw), creampie, cum eating, oral (f), jimin + nabi!!!!!

a/n: this was the final chapter on wattpad before bd got taken down :( it's very bittersweet. also makes me suuuuuper aware of how few updates we've had since (1.... we have had 1 update (wattpad really knocked the wind from my sails, and if you've been keeping up with me outside of bd, you'll know how crazy busy I've been (the plus side is that I'm so nearly freeee to write to my hearts content for a couple of weeks! <3)))

wc: 10.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

While Jeongguk has always looked good behind the bar of Dionysus, you can't help but think he looks so much better in the middle of a tight-knit crowd, with an arm looped around your waist and a drink in his hand.

Under the cosmic lights of Dionysus, there's a glisten to his lips—alcohol yet to be licked away—and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Hair dark and dishevelled, his fringe tickles at his brows. You don't push it out of his face, 'cause it'll just fall back into position as soon as he moves to the beat of the music.

With a smile on his face, Jeongguk turns to his friends. Chants the lyrics to some song that soundtracked the summers of their youth. Is rowdy and careless in how he jumps around, but not once does he ever loosen his grip on you.

You're all in your finest—the boys in suits, and girls in cocktail dresses. While Nabi is in a deep navy satin number, Danbi has gone for black. Seoyeon opted for an early night, her and Yoongi heading home when the rest of you made your way to the bar.

In the dress picked out for you by Jeongguk all those weeks ago, you're far too overdressed for a bar like this—but you're also under the influence of far too much alcohol.

You know this is one of those golden moments; the nights you won't remember but will have stories to tell about it in years to come. Folklore. Whispers of Aurelian affairs weaved into your subconscious.

History has been made tonight. Not the kind that'll be read about in textbooks, but the kind that grandkids will be told a dozen times over—in a home that's covered in tiny specks of shimmer, while the scent of samgyeopsal waltzes from the kitchen to the courtyard.

So, no, Jeongguk doesn't loosen his grip, and he doesn't think he ever will.

You ignore just how many drinks have been knocked against you, and have also long forgotten the annoyance of sticky liquor on your feet. It's nothing a shower won't fix. Knowing the man beside you as intimately as you do, you're almost positive it's where you'll end up in a few hours, anyway.

Thoughts of you and him doing as you so often do have you wishing you were home already. Tonight is for celebrating, though—and oh, how lovely it is to have an excuse to celebrate Jeon Jeongguk.

Venus herself would've had a hard time crafting him, you think. Carved from marble and yet soft as the silky words he likes to wrap you up in, he's unlike anything of this earth.

For all of his thoughts about you, and the cosmos, and how he's certain 'Milky Way' is written where a location should be on your birth certificate, you've had just as many deliberations.

He says he was born in Busan, but men like him don't just come to be as a result of random genetics. He's forged of gold. Perfection in the form of a mere mortal man.

But then he's shouting something to Jimin over the sound of the music, and he stutters a little. Repeats himself with a goofy little grin, unphased by his innate imperfections, and it only serves to make your heart swell.

Jeongguk isn't perfect. He's capable of making mistakes and saying the wrong things. He wears toe-separating socks more often than you care to acknowledge, and sometimes he can be a little stroppy for no reason.

The pout always eases, though, and he derives such joy from those stupid socks that you can't ever bring yourself to tell him how ridiculous they are.

Perfection isn't measured in traits. It's measured in perception.

And you've never perceived a human more perfect for you than Jeon Jeongguk.

Anyone who looks your way would agree—or maybe they'd just see the way you're looking at him, all dewy-eyed and fawn-like, and know that there must be a little magic between you both.

When he turns his attention back to you and realises just how much adoration is glittering your eyes, he does the only thing he can do: tightens the arm he has around your waist and press the sweetest of kisses into your lips.

"Get a room!"

"Disgusting!"

"PDA! Gross!"

The noise that erupts for your friends is nothing short of embarrassing, even if it is obscured by the thudding base of the club speakers.

None of them really mean it. All have smiles on their faces. Are laughing.

Even if they weren't, they'd far rather you and Jeongguk were insufferably sweet, instead of still pretending like you aren't crazy about one another. You ignore them all anyway. Pout when he pulls away from the kiss. Get him back on your lips just as quickly as he left them.

Jeongguk's lips curve into a smile as he sinks his lips into yours and revels in the way it feels.

In the middle of a bar he could call home, surrounded by people he adores, Jeongguk's got you .

Has caught a shooting star, and is gloating just because he can.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbles into your lips barely loud enough for you to hear, yet your arms wrap around his neck because you know exactly what he said. Kiss him back with a smile just as insufferable as his.

"Yeah?" You giggle.

Your friends have stopped caring—or at least, they've stopped teasing you. Are just letting you be. Suits Jeongguk fine. Just gives him the green light to tighten his arm around your back and lift you ever so slightly.

"You know I do."

Jeongguk loves without condition. Doesn't need to hear you say it back, not when he knows how you feel.

And yet you indulge him regardless.

"I love you, too," you tell him, and then can't help but giggle at how stupid it all feels. He puts you back on your feet. Press a kiss to your forehead, and then urges you back into the group. Shaking your head, you pull back. "Just gonna get another drink."

"I'll come with."

"Stay," you insist, squeezing his hand as you pull his grip away from your hand. He should be with his friends, you think. Plus you'll order him a drink, too. Won't put it on his tab, 'cause you know damn well that bar tab his friends love so much will no doubt migrate to his restaurant. Still, you make sure to call back, "Will only be a minute, babe!"

You know it'll pacify him for a moment or so, and you also just wanna indulge in the simple pleasure of watching his lip ring do the thing. You'll never grow tired of it. Two birds, one pathetically pretty heart-shaped stone.

You lose yourself in the crowd. Know this place like the back of your hands. Doesn't take you long to find yourself by the bar with an incredibly sober Yeonjun raising his brows in your direction.

He saw you coming. Already has a few empty shot glasses lined up on the tray ready to make you starfuckers.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to say something that'd feel far wittier in your drunk mind than would be in reality when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

Instantly, you flinch away.

The hand isn't cold nor is it aggressive; it's just not Jeongguk's. You knew without hesitation. Eyes flicking over to the mirrored backsplash of the bar, you briefly catch Yeonjun's unimpressed gaze.

He doesn't know the man who's taken the spot beside you, but he knows the man is far closer than a stranger should be.

He's strapping. Incredibly good looking. Broad shoulders, hair slicked back. Is put together in a way that men in Dionysus rarely are.

"Water?" Yeonjun offers you, 'cause no matter how much he likes to wind Jeongguk up, he's grown into a good man. Has a lot to thank Jeongguk for. His care for drunk punters, and making sure they're okay, is one of those things.

Yeonjun also knows Jeongguk would pluck every single cerulean hair from his head if he were ever to let anything happen to a single hair on yours.

"Yeah," you nod, edging away from the man beside you.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The man closes the space you created.

"You were in your element tonight," he says, looking down towards you. "Could be making a name for yourself instead of doing some kid's hard work for him."

When your eyes flicker up at him, they're sharp. Pointed. Daggers where daisies once were. Edging away again, you create a distance that isn't so easily closed this time.

"And you could piss off, Seokjin."

"Oh," he hums with the kind of smirk that would have sent you reeling once upon time. Just makes your stomach churn, now. "Full name? Am I in trouble?"

"I'd have to actually give a shit about you for you to be in trouble," you tell him, and are kind of surprised by how little you feel. You're not even angry. You're bored. A little irritated. Mostly indifferent. "And quite frankly the way you've been behaving recently has just confirmed everything I already knew about you. If you could stop interfering with my life, I'd really appreciate it."

"Interfering?" He half snorts, taking a swig on his drink. "You're the one who invited practically my entire department to your little boyfriend's fundraiser."

"I invited their wallets," you correct him, before turning back to Yeonjun. "The usual, please. Four."

He doesn't need to clarify what you're after. He knows the drill. Gets cracking on the starfuckers.

"Icy," Seokjin continues to tease. There's an arrogance to him. Curiosity, too.

You're not the woman who used to cry in his shower and beg him to stay. Your hair is longer, and your wardrobe is less refined. The role you played to be favoured by him is long-forgotten about now.

Stars don't belong in boxes. They'll just burn out. He never got the luxury to see you shine as brightly as you could, and now that he is, he thinks he likes it.

"There's a reason why you kept coming back, or have you forgotten?" He says with a kind of sleaziness you never before attributed to him. When you come to think about it, you realise that maybe you should have. "Need reminding?"

"No. What I really need is for you to gain a little bit of that decorum you like to pretend you have, and then I need you to stop embarrassing yourself," you assure him as you pull your phone from the small clutch bag you've been carrying with you. Flicking open your message thread with Jeongguk, you manage to put together a very tipsy string of messages that tell him to come to the bar. "You're beating a dead horse."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be talking to me right now," he smirks. "And if anything, I'm the horse in this equation, given how much I know you like rid—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, frankly taken aback by his vulgarity.

If there's one thing Seokjin always was when he was with you, it was respectful. Not to you, or your feelings, but to other people's perception of him. For him to be stooping to such a level just to get a rise out of you means one of two things: the insidious 'boys club' nature of his workplace has corrupted him, or that he thinks so little of you that he believes this is what'd make you fold.

"We ended well over a year ago, and you didn't even want to be in that relationship for just as long! Christ alive. You never had trouble getting laid when we were together. Find some other poor woman to bother—or better yet, just go home. Save everyone's sanity."

Seokjin shrugs. Casts his dark eyes down your glitter-speckled body. Smirks. "You know I always want what I can't have."

You're unattainable. Out of his reach. Belong to skies, when his feet are cemented into the sidewalk.

It's not why he's here, though.

You know him too intimately to understand how his brain works.

Kim Seokjin will never be the man he pretends to be. Will always be the lackey of some CEO. Will never quite own a penthouse, even though he'll probably land somewhere a few floors below. His full-potential will never be reached because he doesn't know how to apply himself in a way that isn't intended on bringing other people down.

He won't climb ladders; he'll just drag people beneath his feet to make himself feel taller. Goes through life as if he's wearing Cuban heels, and steps on the toes of anyone who threatens to achieve more than him.

When you were together, he didn't cheat for the forbidden romance of it all, or anything borne in innate human desires. He didn't do it because he particularly liked other women, or because you weren't satisfactory enough. Quite the opposite.

He cheated for the gratification of coming back to you. He'd hold your body with hands that had been covered in the evidence of someone else; tarnish you and leave himself squeaky clean. Was a power trip. An ego stroker.

It's what's fuelling him right now, you think. The way he knows your body and how his hands used to stroke up the curve of your waist. The eroticism of it all. Thoughts like that used to make you shudder. Now, they make you want to dry-heave.

He knows his hands have been replaced with Jeongguk's lips; that your skin is golden where it once was void of anything but markers of Seokjin.

You went to Jeongguk's apartment once after Seokjin had left those very markers on your throat. They were invisible, but you could feel them. His hands, his lips. How tender he'd been with your skin no matter how rough he had been with your heart.

Jeongguk had crafted you a nest out of every single pillow in his home that night. It was almost like he knew birds would play a pivotal role in the both of your lives. Was giving them— you —a safe place to hatch. To bloom. To shine.

Seokjin doesn't want you.

He just wants Jeongguk to be beneath him.

If that means also getting you beneath him in a more literal sense of the word, then so be it.

But as Jeongguk comes to stand in the space between you both, nodding towards Yeonjun with all the nonchalance he can afford, you know that nobody else will ever have you like he does.

Picking up one of the starfuckers, Jeongguk shoots it back. Picks up a second. Looks to you. Softly wraps his hand around your throat and strokes his thumb up towards your earlobe. Holds the shot to your lips. Waits for you to tip your head back ever so gently—and when you do, he slowly pours the liquor into your mouth for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off yours. Not even when you close them to swallow down the familiar sensation of what it feels like to be in love with him. Just naturally happens whenever you drink a starfucker. Always has done.

"Missed you," he tenderly says, as if it hasn't been a matter of minutes.

When he's holding you like this, his strong hand commanding the angle at which you can look at him, you're without any autonomy. You're his, his, his. The presence of a man you barely even remember being with fades into nothingness behind Jeongguk.

An incredibly love-drunk smile finds its way back to your lips. Jeongguk smiles, too, letting the hand holding your neck ease so that his arm can wrap over your shoulders, as yours does the same around his back. Hooked onto one another, physically as much as you are emotionally, there's a unified front to your partnership.

"These ours?" He asks, nodding towards the remaining starfuckers. You nod. Say nothing, 'cause you don't need to. Just squeeze his waist even tighter. Jeongguk glances up to Yeonjun. "Tab? Four more, and two lemonades."

"Right you are, boss," Yeonjun nods, and gets to work.

"Cheers," Jeongguk thanks him, then picks up one of the starfuckers. Turns ever so slightly, but not enough to loosen his grip on you. Smiles in Seokjin's direction. "Want one? They're good. Practically made her fall in love with me, though, so be careful. You might get a crush on me, too."

"Think I'd be fine," Seokjin scoffs back. "I don't tend to fall for charity cases that can only get girls who feel sorry for them."

"You'd be surprised by how much a starfucker could change your tastes," Jeongguk entertains him. "Take B for example. Used to date limp dick losers who couldn't get her off—"

"Gguk!"

"—One starfucker was all it took, and now it's a seven days a week occurrence. Ain't that a beautiful thing?"

Seokjin grates his jaw. Tries not to let it show. Fails.

"So you have to get her drunk to fuck her?" He sneers.

"Nah," Jeongguk laughs a little at such an absurd suggestion. "Just like I wouldn't need to be drunk to tell you to back off."

"Can she not talk for herself?"

He knows damn well you're able to speak for yourself — he just chooses to disregard everything you say.

"Can you not take a hint? You're not welcome," Jeongguk snaps, before swigging down the shot he had offered Seokjin. Is a little aggressive in how he tosses down the plastic shot glass. "Get fucked—by yourself, that is. My girlfriend isn't included in that suggestion."

"I think—"

"Seokjin," you finally sigh, voice laced with contempt. Shaking your head, you really don't know what more you can say to really drive it home. He never cared this much when you were together. "You're embarrassing yourself. Go home. Find a new bar. I don't care. Yes, I used your connections to get more money to the auction, and no, I'm not sorry. Use the money you saved from losing the bid to get a therapist, or a hooker, or anything that'll help you be a little less insufferable. Maybe an STD check, while you're at it."

He could make a crude remark about how he always wore condoms whenever he cheated.

You know this to be true, 'cause you know you tasted the latex on him once. Thinking about it doesn't hurt like it used to. Annoys you more than anything.

Instead, Seokjin concedes. Can feel the eyes of the bartender searing into him. Knows that you're right; he is embarrassing himself.

That was one thing he could never fault you for. You were always right. Each and every time you called him out on his bullshit, you were right to do so.

"You know where to find me whenever you're done fixing whatever's broken with him," Seokjin simply shrugs. Knows you have a complex. That you tried to 'fix' him, too.

"Fixed it already," Jeongguk says, 'cause he isn't letting Seokjin have the last word. "Seriously, man. You lost. Not because I won, but because you were never worthy of winning in the first place. Stay away or don't, but this is always what you're gonna be greeted with. Always."

Seokjin doesn't look at you. He stares Jeongguk out, instead. Smirks, as if he thinks Jeongguk is an idiot, but lets the ambiguity of any words he could speak linger in the air. Decides it will be a little more torment if he leaves you both wondering what he could have said instead.

He just doesn't realise that neither of you could care any less than you already do.

At this point, he's just like an annoying mosquito buzzing around. With any hope, he'll find another blood source he enjoys more and become an irritating presence for someone else instead.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters, shaking his head when Seokjin finally retreats. Squeezes you tighter and presses a kiss to your cheek, before pulling the fresh drinks made by Yeonjun closer to your side of the bar. "He's fuckin' insufferable, B. The fuck did you ever see in him?"

Jeongguk pours the starfuckers into the lemonades, turning it into a makeshift version of a starlover. It'll do the job, and was easier to order than it would have been to explain the process to Yeonjun in the middle of a busy shift.

"Before we get into that—" you take the drink offered to you by Jeongguk, sipping a little down " —Seven days a week? Really?"

"Oh, c'mon," Jeongguk grins, as he begins to lead you both away from the bar. "You can't be annoyed with me! He was being a tool!"

The door that leads up to the private booths is closed today—none were booked out, and it saves the clean down time if that entire section stays off limits to punters.

Elevated above the dancefloor, the booths are in the balcony section that wraps around the room. People in the booths can see down to the dancefloor below, but you'd be hard pressed trying to look up into the booths from the dancefloor. They offer a little anonymity. Privacy.

It's why Jeongguk stuck Jiyeong and her friends up there on New Years Eve—purely so that he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Jeongguk isn't just any punter, though. He's the one who installed the door to make his life a little bit easier by keeping drunk stragglers out of the booths. Knows the code, 'cause it's just his birthday backwards.

And right now, he wants a little privacy with you.

"You didn't have to be one back!" You reprimand him as he punches in the code for the door, but you're smiling, too. It's not like you actually gave a shit. If anything, it was kind of hot watching him brag so arrogantly.

"I did," he assures you, quickly encouraging you through the door so as to not draw any attention to yourselves. Taps your ass just 'cause he can. Squeeze, again, just 'cause he can. "Didn't want the old man thinking I was a little virgin."

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him away as you begin to head up the stairs. He's right behind you. Is squeezing your ass again as soon as he can be. "No one is ever gonna look at you and think that."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeongguk flirts. "So when we first met, you thought I was some sort of sexed-up fuck boy, huh?"

"No," you innocently offer, stepping up into one of the booths, and sinking down into one of the plush sofas that run along the back wall. "But I did wish you hadn't been behind the bar so I could find out for myself."

Jeongguk puts his drink on the table in front of the booth sofas, then comes and plonks himself right down next to you. Is practically on your lap. Doesn't care. Is like a fully-grown dog who doesn't realise he's not a puppy anymore.

You just let him. Personal space is null and void.

"Oh? So you went home with Jimin 'cause I turned you on?" He nods to himself. Smirks. Looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Nice."

"Shut up," you laugh, a little scandalised that he's mentioning it so carelessly.

Jeongguk's got half a dozen starfuckers in his system, and does not care for tact. In fact, if he had it his way, he'd set the world to rights. Would make that ancient wish of yours come true, now that he isn't behind the bar.

You set about neatly arranging his hair as he steals your drink from your hand to take a sip.

"You were so pretty," he quietly says. Wraps his hand around your wrist to stop you from preening. Pulls your knuckles to his lips and presses a tender kiss against them. It comes naturally, being like this. "Still are. But that first night... Fuck. Spent my whole shift watching out for you. Was gutted when I got home and you were there."

It was so long ago now that it's almost hard to believe Jeongguk remembers it as clearly as he thinks he does.

"Looking for somewhere to charge your phone," he laughs softly, shaking his head, as he recounts the memories. "Just for you to end up forgetting it. What will we do with you, hey? Silly, pretty baby."

Your face scrunches up at his recollection of the details. Had you never gone home with Jimin, then perhaps you'd have never ended up here—but you kind of wish it had never happened. Wish that you'd stayed by the bar all night. That you'd have had the water Jeongguk gave you. That you'd have sobered up by the time he finished his shift, and asked if he wanted to walk you home.

The 'you' of present day is not the you that shot through the bar that night with reckless abandon for who got blinded by your shine. You wouldn't have stayed, if you'd have gone home with Jeongguk. Or wouldn't have asked him to stay. Would have fucked him and never spoken to him again.

Or maybe you wouldn't have. Who knows?

"Sorry it was all so... messy," you offer a little sheepishly.

Bad decisions were made by you both—but stars can only form when dust clouds collapse. You needed to break a little before you could become who you were meant to be.

Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Messy can be good," he promises, then adjusts you both. Pulls you across his lap. With a leg either side of his, you let your nose find its home next to his. Smile as his hands stroke up your back.

"Yeah?" You whisper against his lips.

"Mhmm," he mumbles, letting his lips sink into yours for a moment, before adding, "Got a canvas we made together that proves it."

The curve of your lips as you press into the kiss can be felt by him. Just gets him smiling, too. As his lip ring presses into your plump bottom lip, part of you wishes you were back in those damn busan photobooths. Want to see what it looks like. How you move together.

Slowly, he encourages your hips to languidly grind. Keeps the momentum slow, you both ignore the chaos of the club that echoes around you. He controls you with a hand on your waist, the other resting on your bare thigh.

The dress you're in—the one he chose—is everything he could ever want and more from an outfit on your body. It sparkles like the Han river under Banpo bridge during the evening light show, and clings to your body like droplets of water slowly sinking down an ice sculpture. Provides him with easy access, yet leaves his imagination free to go wild.

He knows your body well enough, now though. Knows the underwear you're wearing. Is impatient. Wants to push them to the side and get his hard cock buried in your tight walls.

Good things come to those who wait, though, and Jeongguk is more than willing to be a good boy for you.

Hidden in the darkness of the club, the thudding music is no match for the beat of your hearts. Lights splash you in colour every so often, but for the most part, you revel in your obscured entanglement.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and your hands tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel how hard he is beneath you as you grind on his lap. It'd be easy, you think, to fuck him right now.

Jeongguk is right—good things do come to those who wait.

And he's been such a good boy.

You let your lips trail down to his throat. Latch on to his sweet spot just beneath his ear. Suck. Graze your teeth. Do the same to his earlobe, and feel his grip tighten. A moan vibrates in his throat.

Lips brushing against his ear, you whisper, "Phone."

Though your tone is soft, Jeongguk knows it's a command. Digs into his back pocket, keeping you firmly in place. The movement just has his thick bulge pressing even deeper against you, as his grip on your waist gets tighter.

It has you smiling; giddy with how glorious it is to have a man of such calibre so greedy for you.

It's not like it isn't reciprocal. Never before have you ever been so feral for a partner; so risky in your need to have them experiencing bliss because of you. Before Jeongguk, sex always served a purpose. Was never just sex for the sake of sex. There were deep-rooted issues and insecurities you were trying to fix.

But you're secure, now; in his grip, his hands, his heart. You don't have any ulterior motive for the things you do other than an innate need to make Jeongguk come undone. His buttons, his belts, his primal need to make you his; you'll undo them all.

Flicking open his camera, you stay in his lap as you reach across the sofa and rest the phone up against the wall that separates it from the next booth over. Tap on the little red record button. Though the lighting isn't entirely clear, enough bleeds in from the LED screens behind the DJ to clearly show the pair of you. Once his camera settings adjust to low light, you may as well have the main lights turned on.

Jeongguk raises a brow, tilting his head with sweet, puppy-like confusion.

"We're drunk," you tell him, as if either of you need any liquor to behave like animals. "Wanna make sure you remember this in the morning."

Jeongguk's hips push upwards as his hands on your waist keep you tight against his lap. "You think I ever forget fucking you?"

"Who said anything about fucking?" You tease with a smirk, biting down on your bottom lip.

He groans.

"If you blue ball me again, I'll die," he tells you. Flails a little. Leans back against the booth. Pouts. Wait for you to lean closer and deliver a pretty little kiss to make him feel better.

"We can't fuck here," you tell him with complete certainty, as if that's not exactly what you're hoping for. "Anyone could see us."

No one would be able to see you in this position, and you damn well know it, but it still feels incredibly exposed. You're a few metres from your friends and hundreds of other random club-goers. If you were to peep over the balcony railings, your hiding spot would be revealed.

"So?" Jeongguk smirks. "Everyone knows we fuck. Bet you they've imagined it. And you know how pretty you are when you cum? Everyone deserves to see that at least once in their life, B."

"We're gonna end up at an orgy one day, aren't we?" You tease him for his sheer unrelenting need to show you off.

He shakes his head. "Fuck no. Ain't no way anyone else is ever gonna touch you."

"No?"

"No," he tells you, stroking his hand up your chest and tightening his grip around the base of your throat. "You only cum for me."

It's a statement just as much as it is a command.

The thoughts are in Jeongguk's head now, though. You, and those cosmic calamities you call your eyes, and how they'd stare him out as someone else fucked you. The feeling gets under his skin and pollutes his heart. Pumps sulphur into his veins. Turns his blood green.

"Say it," he grits, as his hands move down to cup your chest. "Tell me who you cum for."

Yanking down the material of the top of your dress, Jeongguk wastes no time. Repeats a similar action with the cups of your bra. Gets your chest exposed.

If either of you were to look at his phone screen, you'd find your silhouettes look like fuckin' sin—but all you can focus on is him.

His lips latch around one of your nipples, harshly sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand massages at the other, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger. Head tipping back, you continue grinding against him. Don't give him an answer 'cause it feels too good to focus on anything else but the sensation of him.

You indulge in the sheer volume of the club speakers. Moan without reservation. Gasp as he pulls away and delivers a sharp spank to your tit, before latching onto your other nipple.

The way your hips grind even deeper against him is testament to how badly you want him; the wetness seeping through your underwear and onto his trousers.

He grazes his teeth against your nipple. Makes you shudder. Licks. Kisses. Sucks again, then pulls away with an oh-so-satisfying pop. Holding your chest with his hands, Jeongguk is stern as he repeats: "Tell me who you cum for."

You could do it. Could say him. Could do as he asks.

Thing is, you don't think he really wants that.

You think he wants to be mean.

And you know you want him to be mean.

With a small shrug, you widen your eyes. Feign innocence. Like butter wouldn't melt, you suppose, "Anyone who touches me right."

He scoffs.

There's a look in Jeongguk's eyes that promises you that he'll get you leant against that damn balcony while he fucks you just to prove a point—not only to you, but to any fucker who thinks they could ever make you feel the way he does.

"Word?" He grits.

"Chess," you say without hesitation.

It's the green light he needs, but still he tells you, "Gonna be mean."

As much as he enjoys playing the roles of a person he's not when he fucks you, he also never wants you to ever take it to heart. Loves you so purely that he'll always do what he can to keep you comfortable.

It's cute.

Also entirely irrelevant right now, 'cause you want him to be mean.

"You're gonna try ," you tease.

Jeongguk scoffs, again. Likes how bratty you can be. Smirks. Knocks his head to the side. Shakes it. Grips your tits a little harder, then spanks one of them and is pleased with how your body jolts.

A wanton moan escapes your lips. Eyes on his, you're Jeongguk's to devour.

"You think anyone else could get you like this, huh?" He grits, dropping a hand to your spread legs. Sinks his hand between his crotch and yours. Is greeted with evidence of your arousal. Strokes his fingers against you. Gathers some of your slick on his fingers, and is ever so pleased when your lips part for him without a word. Sinking his fingers into your wet, wanting mouth, Jeongguk smirks. "Needy little slut."

The vibration of your moan around his fingers just confirms everything Jeongguk already knows.

He laughs. Is arrogant. Cocksure. Obscenely hot. Your brows furrow as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, before he grips the base of your throat again.

"If you aren't gonna use that mouth to give me serious answers, you're gonna use it for something else instead, aren't you?"

Oh, you're eager . Don't need telling twice. Are off his lap and sinking between his legs without even so much as a guided instruction.

"That's it," he husks as you quickly undo his belt. His trousers, too. Tug them down his thighs. Get his Calvins on show, and his furiously hard cock tenting in them. Your lips press kisses against the fabric, tongue wetting his shaft through the cotton. "Stop fuckin' teasing, baby. Suck it."

If there's one thing you know about Jeongguk, it's that he gets whiny when he doesn't get his own way. On your knees, eyes flicking up to his lust-laced features, you're not gonna be a good girl for him just 'cause he wants you to be. You're gonna hold out. Gonna get him whiny. Gonna—

"You know how many girls down there want this cock, huh? How many waste their time at the bar vying for my attention?" Jeongguk arrogantly smirks. Watches the change in your expression. The hardening of your eyes. The power relinquishing from you to him. The sulphur that's transferred. The club lights paint you in green. He licks his lips. Says, "If I want my cock sucked, I can get it sucked. Give me a reason not to."

Back in the early days, you and Jeongguk had been through his message requests together. He'd downplayed it, but you know it's true. Girls practically drool on the Dionysus bar for him.

If he wanted to, he could.

But he wants you.

Only ever wants you.

You're feeling challenged, though. Are petty. Shrug, "You know how many people hit on me by that very bar?"

He does. Has seen it himself. And has also seen how quickly you dismiss it. Never feels threatened.

Your hands work in tandem, one of them pushing up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his toned abs, the other tugging down on his boxers, revealing his cock.

There's something celestial about having Jeongguk like this. Hard and weak at the exact same time. The tip of his cock has the sheen of precum spilling from his slit, and you don't think you've ever seen him this hard. He's needy. Pathetic. Gorgeous.

Your tongue licks a stripe up his shaft, and Jeongguk's eyes close. His hand finds a home in your hair as his gaze lands on you again.

"I could do this for them," you assure him. Though the music is loud, Jeongguk reads your lips. Twitches as your tongue flicks against his slit. Lips pressing a kiss to his tip, you jerk him a little just to remind him of who is in the position of power right now. "Could fuck anyone I want."

Jeongguk smiles at this. Finds it funny. Cute, even.

"You could," he acknowledges. Tightens his grip on your hair. Gets you back in position, your lips wrapping around his cock as he begins to encourage a momentum. "But I'm still the only one who'll make you cum, aren't I? Could slut yourself out, but it's still me you'll be thinking about. Me you'll be wishing you were with. Me who you'll crawl back to 'cause no one else satisfies you."

With every sentence, he fucks his cock deeper into your mouth. Is practically hitting the back of your throat. Getting your eyes all watery—and he knows your pussy is even wetter.

He lets you do the hard work, but makes sure he pushes your head to the right rhythm. Keeps your movements shallow, focused on his tip, now. Is after one thing and one thing only.

Which is why when he starts moaning in a way that you know means he's close, you pull away.

"Fuck," he hisses, almost keeling over in his seat. The look he gives you is one of sheer disbelief.

"What?" You smile as if butter wouldn't melt. Pretend like you didn't realise he was about to spill over. "You wanna cum, or something?"

"You know I—"

"Go get one of your other girls, then."

Dragging you up onto his lap, Jeongguk laughs, clutches the sides of your face with his hands. Nudges his nose against yours. Doesn't care to keep up the pretence anymore, 'cause he's sensing a nerve was struck.

Even if you are just being petulant for the sake of it, he doesn't ever want you to feel like it's a viable option. Says, "You know I don't want anyone else. Stupid."

"S'not what you said," you childishly pout against his lips. You know damn well he didn't mean it. Honestly, hearing him speak with such arrogance was a turn on; the acknowledgement that even though he's desired, you know he's chosen you. "You said—"

"Hey—you said you could fuck anyone down there," he reminds you. Presses a feathery kiss against the tip of your nose. "And you could. I don't want you to, though."

"No?"

"No, Byeol," Jeongguk whispers against your lips now. Lets his hand sink to your underwear. Pushes them to the side. Lines you up against his shaft. Encourages you to rock ever so gently, coating him in everything you are. "Want you forever, B. Just you and me. You want that, hmm? This, forever?"

Jeon Jeongguk has this way of making you feel powerful and pathetic all within the same moment. You want him so badly it hurts. And so you nod. Raise your hips. Line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Remind him, "No one else makes you feel like I do. They never will."

It's funny, 'cause that's exactly what Jeongguk was wanting to hear from you earlier. If he really wanted, he could be a dick—but you're the one being needy now, and he likes it so much. Adores it, even. You're so cute , he thinks. So he shakes his head. "No one, baby. Just you."

"You're mine," you tell him, then sink down onto his length. Both of you gasp from the sensation. You've been waiting for this; desperate for it. Foreplay is fun, but all Jeongguk ever wants these days is to utterly and completely lose himself in you. This, to him, is Nirvana.

He nods. Lets his eyes close as your walls adjust to his size. He's so big that it should be painful, but there's something about fucking Jeongguk that just works. The fit is snug, but it's perfect. "Yeah, baby. Yours."

Your hips grind ever so gently, the feeling of fullness he gives you hitting just right. Clit rubbing against his neatly trimmed patch of hair above the base of his cock, you're overwhelmed with just how good it feels to give yourself up for him.

As the sensation settles in, he encourages your movements. Gets you bouncing, his hands on your ass to keep control. Presses wet kisses to the base of your throat. Promises, "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

A man of traditions, Jeongguk takes 'ladies first' incredibly seriously. Knows he's been edged so well this evening that he won't last long at all. Needs to make sure you get there before him.

He sits you up straight. Stops your movements. Has you warming his cock as he just kind of stares at you for a moment. Everything else is drowned out around you both; the music, the lights, the fact this is Jeongguk's place of work, the way his phone is still recording you both.

With a hand on your waist, he holds your cheek with the other. Smiles as your eyes close, head sinking into his touch. Is so in love with you it feels like his heart might just explode.

"My pretty girl," he grins, biting down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head as if he can't believe his luck.

Your chest is exposed, pretty purple posies blooming on your skin from his lips. There's a sheen of glitter all over your body, and Jeongguk knows there must be one on his, too. It's getting harder to distinguish the pair of you as the days go by; your orbit growing smaller.

Both of his hands drop your pussy. One spreads your lips, while the other slowly rubs against your clit. Instantly, you tense a little, the pleasure pulsing through you.

"My pretty, needy girl," he corrects himself, and is incredibly pleased when you nod.

As one of your hands wraps around his wrist, you try your hardest to not start fucking him again. Want this feeling to persevere, but also innately want to coax an orgasm out of him. It's human nature. He's building you up. You wanna do the same right back.

Thick and firm inside you, Jeongguk's cock throbs from just how tightly your walls clamp around him when he begins toying with your clit. Head tipping back, the laugh that stutters in Jeongguk's chest has you whining.

"Stop being so hot," he groans. "Gonna make me cum so fuckin' fast."

Admitting this is a mistake, for it just makes you wanna interrupt his plans of making your finish first. Gets your ass bouncing on his map as Jeongguk desperately tries to hold himself back; to regain a little control. It's a fruitless endeavour. The silky warmth of your cunt is too good.

"Fuck," he grits, giving into the feeling. "B—"

His words are cut off by your lips stealing a kiss from him, that he then steals right back. Messy and without any considered thought behind them, your kisses dissolve into frantic, breathless whimpers. Jeongguk can't hold off.

Head knocking back, Jeongguk's grip on your waist tightens. He holds you down in place, his thick shaft filling you entirely. He's bottomed out; fully encased in the woman he loves. It's too fuckin much. His legs shake. Chest shudders.

And then it's happening; thick ropes of cum spurting into your cunt, filling the spaces he can't reach. He just wines. Whimpers. Curses. "Fuck. Cumming. Making me cum so fuckin' hard, babe. Fuck. Oh, fuck, this cunt. So fuckin' perfect."

His praise is met with the sweetest of giggles, which only encourage him to cum even harder . Both endless and over far too soon, Jeongguk cums so deeply inside you it feels like he's losing all the oxygen in his brain; like a trap door has been pulled beneath him and he'll never stop falling.

Lips finding yours once more, he eases his grip on your hips. Encourages slow strokes of your pussy up and down his cock just to ease the final spurts of cum out of him.

With a laugh and an incredibly heavy chest Jeongguk leans back once more. Shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. Nor can you.

When his gaze finally lands on you a moment or so later, he's still grinning as he whines, "I wanted to make you cum first."

As mad as it sounds, making Jeongguk cum is satisfying enough for you.

He would disagree. Thinks the concept of you not cumming is pure insanity. How anyone could have you like this and not strive to make you come undone is criminal. Also knows he can't stay inside you for much longer, 'cause the overstimulation might just kill him off.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Jeongguk leverages his position. Lays you down, your head near his phone, his cock still inside you. Kisses the base of your throat as he reaches up for his phone. It's warm from the battery being drained, but it's still recording. He leans across and stands it up against one of your drinks on the table. Not much is in frame—but enough to capture his soaked cock glistening under the club lights as he pulls out of you.

Jeongguk is impatient. Tucks himself into his boxers and sinks down immediately. Plugs your hole with his fingers, keeping his cum inside you. Latches his lips around your clit. Sucks. Whines. Vibrates. Makes you writhe as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head.

If heaven is a place on earth, Jeongguk knows it must be between your legs.

His tongue strokes against you as his fingers curl. There's little care given to how messy it all is. If anything, it just makes him like it even more. Wants to fuck you all over again, but knows his cock isn't up for it yet, even if he is.

There's a small shudder to your body; a little warning sign that Jeongguk is edging you closer and closer to coming undone. Just a little more and you'll be there.

He withdraws his fingers, and sinks his tongue to your entrance. Gathers his cum on his tongue, then spreads it all over your needy cunt. Lays claim to you in a way that no one ever has before. Spits. Flicks his tongue so rapidly against your clit it's hard to comprehend. Gets you shaking. Shuddering.

And then he's sucking, fingers plugging you once more. Your body writhes, and he holds you in place. Sucks harder. Fingers faster. Shakes his head, still sucking on your clit. Releases your with pop and then delves back in.

You whine his name, but it's obscured by the bass pumping through the speakers. All you can do is focus on him. How he feels. How much he wants you to feel good, and how well he succeeds at it.

The pressure builds like a star about to burst—and then stardust is scattering around you both, your orgasm disrupting the very atmosphere you're orbiting in.

Sparking through you, the sensation of your orgasm almost makes you fucking cry. Your body shakes. Jeongguk doesn't relent. Goes until you're spent, legs jolting, whimpers pathetic.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you encourage him up. Get his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth. The taste of his cum intertwined with yours only serves to make you whine even more.

The pair of you are spent and sticky, and somehow still desperate for another.

He's the one who eases up first. Pulls back. Presses kisses all over your face. Your neck. Your chest. Your lips once more. Whispers with a smirk, "You got jealous ."

"Didn't," you pout a little.

"Did," he grins, letting his body collapse on yours, 'cause there's no way he wants to go back down to the dancefloor. Not yet. "Jealous and possessive."

"Says you," you huff a little, stroking up and down his still-clothed back with the tips of your nails. Part of you wishes you were home, in bed, clothes tangled in a pile on the floor. It's okay, though. You know it's where you'll end up.

Head on your chest, Jeongguk holds your tits just 'cause he can. Gets one of your nipples in his mouth, again just 'cause he can. Sucks. Pulls back just to say, "Oh, yeah. I was. Fucking hate the idea of you with anyone else." His lips latch around your nipple again, until he takes a second to add, "I'm literally in love with you."

You're caught between laughing and moaning when his lips wrap around your other nipple. There's no reason for him to be toying with you in the way that he is. Both of you have finished. He's just doing it 'cause he likes it.

"You're in love with my tits," you brush off his declaration.

Shaking his head, nipple still in his mouth, he looks up at you. Poutily lets your nipple slip from his lips. Assures you, "I'm an ass guy," then presses your tits together to get both of your nipples in his mouth at the same time.

"You're an ass, full stop," you laugh. "Lucky I love you."

Now this does pull his attention away from your chest.

"Yeah?" He grins, repositioning himself so that his nose can nudge against yours. On top of you, his chain pools against your chin—and then his lips are sinking into yours, pretty kisses taking the place of needless declarations. You both know exactly how you feel about one another.

"Yeah," you nod into his kisses. "So much."

By the time you finish your mindless chatter in the form of aftercare, Jeongguk's phone has a low battery warning on the screen. Neither of you even wanna think about how long that damn video must be.

You set the world to rights; finish your drinks, and cosy up together just to indulge in a little more time alone—but the night is getting away from you. Your friends will be wondering where you are.

Glancing around to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, Jeongguk's face bunches up when he clocks the security camera he'd forgotten about in the corner of the booth. Nods, to drag your attention to it.

"Yeonjun's gonna have a field day with that one," you grimace.

"I'll delete it before he can," Jeongguk promises you.

Far more sober than you both were earlier, Jeongguk deposits you off with your friends when you get back down to the dancefloor. Ignores their questioning of where you've both been. Gives you a quick kiss before he goes to the bar.

Yeonjun's brows seem to be perpetually raised—but it's just 'cause his eyes caught the glimmer of the booth door being opened half an hour ago, and knows damn well exactly where Jeongguk has been.

The fact that Jeongguk's hair is pointing in all different directions only confirms exactly what Yeonjun thinks he must have been doing.

"Need to go into the office," Jeongguk tells Yeonjun, but is met with the shake of his head.

"No need," Yeonjun deadpans. Leans a little bit closer. Assures him, "Cameras are off. Your secrets are safe, boss."

Jeongguk wants to die. Not for the fun reasons he normally does, but for the sheer embarrassment of his junior almost reprimanding him.

He also doesn't trust the cerulean-haired fucker as far as he can throw him.

"I'm still gonna check."

"Fine. But you'll owe me 20,000."

"Huh?"

"It's a bet," Yeonjun says. "I bet you 20,000 that they're off."

If Jeongguk wasn't already convinced, he is now. Yeonjun hates losing these dumb bets.

Still, Jeongguk agrees.

Not even two minutes later, he's walking back by the bar, chewing on minty gum that's kept in the office for far more innocent purposes than this, dropping two 10,000 won notes down for Yeonjun.

"You're welcome!" Yeonjun shouts after Jeongguk with a smug grin. Shakes his head. Puts on the thick accent of an old man and mutters to himself, "Kids these days. Randy bastards. No decorum. No class. Just hormones and bad decisions."

But as Jeongguk is drawn to you in the crowd, like a stargazer is drawn to Polaris, he knows that for all the bad decisions he's ever made, there is one universal truth: No decision has ever been better than making you starfuckers on that very first night.

Arm looping over your shoulders, he presses a kiss to the side of your head. Steals Jimin's drink from him. Gags when he realises it's neat tequila. Offers it to you regardless. Apologises when you also gag.

The night is lost to Dionysus. Just like its namesake, the club is a cesspit of sin and debauchery, but it's impossible not to love the way it feels.

You don't leave until the final song of the night.

"My place or yours?" Jeongguk asks as you meander down the street together, a little behind the rest of your friends. With convenience store snacks in your hands, Jeongguk's phone dead in his back pocket and your clutch bag in his hands, the pair of you are the poster children of a reckless youth maturing into something far better.

Gone are the days of seeking out new strangers, or living for the weekends.

This is it, you think. An endless back and forth of his place, or yours, until one day it'll become obsolete.

So you indulge in what little you have left of the early days. "Yours."

"You know Jimin'll wanna watch The Notebook in the morning, right?" He reminds you with a smile. Is at such ease with his life. Isn't sure what he did to deserve it all.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Choosing to walk the half an hour distance it takes to get back to Jeongguk's place, instead of opting for a taxi like the others to their respective homes, you and Jeongguk revel in the early hours of the morning. Talk nonsense. Talk business. Talk nonsense about business.

Time wasted with him is really not wasted at all. Even if the sun is coming up by the time you're entering his building, nodding at the doorman, neither of you are tired of one another. It's hard to imagine a reality where that would ever be true.

When you reach his apartment door, both of you stop in your tracks. It's still on the latch. Ajar. He glances over to you, brows furrowed. Steps in front of you, tucking you in behind him.

Says, "Keep quiet."

Slowly edging the door open, the entryway is a mess. Where a neat pile of shoes typically sits, clothes are strewn. It confuses him for a second—until he hears something that makes him dry heave.

He pushes the door fully open, and is met by Jimin cosplaying as his best Jeongguk impression, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. His hands are over his crotch, naked and bare for all to see. Behind him, a half-naked girl darts to his room.

Both you and Jeongguk look at Jimin with equal parts shock and horror.

"At least close the bloody door!" Jeongguk almost shrieks.

"I thought you were going to DB's!"

"Well apparently not—wait," Jeongguk looks around the room. Recognises the clothes. So do you. Knows exactly who was wearing them earlier that evening. Gasps. Whisper-shouts, "Is that—"

"Shut up!" Jimin whisper-hisses back, and retreats backwards, hands still covering his modesty as if neither you nor Jeongguk have ever seen it before. "You didn't see shit!"

He escapes into his room, and you do hear his lock go, just to be safe.

Both you and Jeongguk look at each other in a state of shock. It's only broken when you say, "Well I guess he won't be watching The Notebook tomorrow."

But Jeongguk shakes his head. Nods towards the deep navy dress that's crumpled on the floor beside Jimin's shirt. The same dress Nabi had been in earlier that evening. Says, "It's her favourite film. She's the reason he watches it."

And on the counter, rests a flyer from the gallery event. It's folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Looks like the ones Jeongguk always attributed to Hayun.

It's only now that he realises he'd been wrong this whole time.

Just like Jimin watched The Notebook 'cause the girl he could never seem to get over loved it, Hayun made paper butterflies, 'cause her best friend taught her how to make them. Said it'd be a good little party trick to make boys fall in love with her.

And it had been—but it had also just been an entirely fabricated part of her personality. The irony of it all isn't lost on Jeongguk. All he can do is laugh. It confirms everything he already knew: he never understood love until you came along.

"What is it with us and walking in our housemates shagging?" You laugh as you kick off your shoes, unaware of Jeongguk's realisation. Sure he'd told you about Hayun's butterflies before you made your first birds, but it was so long ago that it's a distant memory, now.

"No idea," Jeongguk grins as he follows suit. Holds your hand as you head towards his bathroom. Forgets to grab his towels, but doesn't care even when he remembers. Will risk the naked dash across his apartment later. All he wants is to be with you right now. "We're not far off, though. Yoongi practically caught us at it earlier."

You hum as Jeongguk starts the shower, checking yourself over in the mirror as you discard your dress. The hickies bestowed upon you are ridiculous. The teasing from your friends will be relentless.

"Maybe we should stop being so reckless," you suppose with a glint in your eyes that Jeongguk catches as he turns to study you in the mirror. Slipping your dress off, you keep your eyes on him.

"Where's the fun in that?" He grins, coming to stand behind you. Dipping his lips to the base of your neck, his hands hold your hips. His kisses are gentle. Sleepy.

"So you want to get caught?"

"Never said that," he mumbles. "But I do want everyone to know you're mine, so if that's what it takes..."

"A ring would do the job just fine," you tell him without much thought. "Far less embarrassing, too."

Jeongguk rests his pointy chin on your shoulder. Looks at you in the mirror. "A ring?"

It's only now that you realise the gravity of what you've said. You're tired and your brain isn't really functioning right and oh god—you've barely even been dating for five minutes. It's too soon for any of that.

"Well I've already got a necklace," you try and downplay it, reaching up to touch the silver bird that sits between your collarbones. "Earrings work, too."

Jeongguk smirks. Stands. Rids himself of clothes, and walks to the shower. Tests the temperature of the water. Nonchalantly says, "Always thought you hated the idea of marriage."

"It's archaic," you casually reply, unclasping your bra, and letting it drop to the floor. Jeongguk's eyes are all over you. There's nothing about you he doesn't adore—your need to bicker with him included. "The tax benefits are nice, though."

He nods as you discard your underwear. Says, "I'd make you sign a prenup. Wouldn't want you stealing all my sculptures in the divorce."

" Action figures ," you correct him, joining him in the shower. He doesn't get a chance to argue back, for you're on your tippy toes and pressing a kiss against his lips to remedy the insult you know he's about to feign. "And you're already planning the divorce? That's not very promising. May as well not get married."

He shrugs. "Just making sure I have my ducks in a row before I commit to anything."

"Virgo," you accusingly tease, narrowing your eyes with a terribly hidden smile.

"What was it you said about Virgos?" He teases right back. "That we're written in the stars?"

You can bicker and you can argue all you like—but when Jeongguk has you in his sheets a little while later, curled up against his chest, softly settling into sleep like stardust into the atmosphere, he knows it must be true.

"Sweet dreams, B," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You mumble a response, half asleep already. Let him do as he pleases as he pulls your hand up to his lips. Barely register it when a tender kiss is pressed to your empty ring finger.

"Obsessed," you murmur against his chest—but also delicately press a kiss right where you know his heart is.

He just nods. Yawns. "Obsessed."

[nctinkverse]

Promissa Redux

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Genre: mature, smut, angst, fluff, minors dni.

Preview and plot warnings (I will update as I go): dad Jaehyun, pregnancy, MC is a mom, mature, slow burn, excessive angst, abundant plot, and probably way too much dialogue, exes to lovers, Jaehyun 's family is in this (at least as I imagine they might be), a lot of intimacy, explicit content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of exes, heavy make-out session and annoying co-workers.

WC Preview: 1000

WC Total: Not sure, probably it will be 5.000 - 10.000?

Chapter 1 - Shattered promises & Broken vows. Chapter 2 - Valentines Day.

Chapter 3 - One call away is not close enough.

SYNOPSIS: Most of the fairy tales and romance novels, it all seems perfect after the happily ever after. But what if some stories started at the end?

Well not the end per se, nobody was dying.

But you always questioned, do princess get a divorce?

Do female main characters give up the man they fought to love after so many chapters?

At 32 years of age, divorced, mom to an incredible 5-year-old girl who was the greatest thing you and the love of your life ever did, you thought again about the same questions you had when you were 14 and your parents got divorced.

Jung was your last name for 2 years, Mrs. Jung was your title and you loved it, he was sweet, loving, an amazing father and so good to you in bed that you never forgot truly what it felt like to be loved by him.

Your story stated way past the end, the not so happily ever after.

It didn’t have many twists and turns like a superhero movie that keeps you hanging at the edge of your seat for the next plot twist.

In your mind, life was already full of uncertainties, hard decisions, mistakes and paying the price for choosing paths.

Life itself was already hard enough without the responsibilities of superpowers.

So how you ended up thinking about all that again at 32 years old, while holding an engagement ring box you found on your lover’s pocket while picking it up of the floor, it was something you will have to find the answers, probably soon.

------------------------Preview----------------------------------------

You were fast asleep when the phone rang. The name on the screen making you jump, why is he calling at this hour? This can’t be a good thing.

Immediately you laid your back on the headboard and answered the call.

"Hi."

"Jaehyun, is something wrong?"

"Oh, no…" You let out a relieved breath, being half asleep making you grumpy.

"Good lord, Jaehyun, it's 4 a.m!" You said, raising your voice a little.

"Oh shoot… um sorry… I didn’t check for the time zones. I should have called another –

You interrupted his rambling. He’s not usually someone to call, he could just spill so you can go back to sleep.

"Jae, spill, what’s the gossip, huh?"

He let out a little laugh since the gossip joke was an old one between you two.

"No gossip, but I do have something."

"Clearly, it's something good or you wouldn’t be calling on impulse, spill, Jaehyun."

"Yeah right…" He hesitated a bit, his telltale sign usually being him coughing even though there was nothing wrong with his voice. "I got sent this script for this movie, they want me as the main male character..." He hesitated again, which made you ask.

"Jaehyun, what did you do?"

"I sent a copy of the script to your mailbox."

You could feel your sleepiness going away as you scolded him.

"Jaehyun, are you nuts? You can’t ship stuff like this in the mail! What if it gets –"

"It got delivered today." He interrupted, making you stop your thinking.

Scrambling for a thought since he didn’t elaborate, you asked.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with it?! I’m not a male actor, Jung."

"Read, dummy, read."

"And do what?"

"Tell me if you want it."

You opened your mouth to be obnoxious, pointing out the obvious, but Jaehyun must have listened to your 'I’m about to give you an earful' breath and went first.

"Listen, it’s an amazing script, just like the ones you used to want to work on. There’s an opening for a cinematographer, and I know you’re a hell of a good one, so if you want, it’s yours." He said in one breath, probably afraid you would interrupt again.

But from all he said, this part really got you confused.

"What do you mean it’s mine?"

"I showed the director your profile and portfolio, and he said yes."

"Fuck, Jaehyun." You didn’t know what to say since he was never one to interfere in your personal life since the D word.

"You’re sleepy, and I know how grumpy you can be at this hour, so… I still have to tell you two more things, the job is in the states, probably 3-4 months of filming, and I am supposed to give an answer on the male character in 48 hours. We would have to work together, and we would probably have to strike a deal with my parents since we can’t pull Junnie out of school, so…"

You understood what he said, but you needed at least a cup of coffee to process it. But before you could say anything, he went off again.

"I can give it up if you want." He said almost like a whisper.

"Give what up?"

"The character."

"You didn’t like it?"

"No, but –

You interrupted again.

"So, if you do like it, why would you give it up?" It made no sense to you.

"For you –"

It still didn’t make sense why he would give it up.

"Give it up for ME?"

"I like it, Y/N, but this script has you written all over it… and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being there."

Now you got him, yet he was about the last person in this world who could make you uncomfortable.

"Yuno…" You said in a softer tone.

You heard his breath and a soft "yeah?"

"I don’t hate you." You stated in your most soft yet firm tone, it was one of the things he must not forget about you two.

"I know, Y/N, I know."

"I am going to read it and think about what you said, ok? Don’t do anything hasty."

"Ok, I will let you go back to sleep."

"I’m not sleeping after all this, you know right?" You said, letting out a small huff.

"I know."

"What I am about to do is getting up, making some coffee and grabbing the script out of my mailbox, does it sound good to you?" You were being just a bit playful.

"It does, love."

That word made you warm like butter melting on a frying pan. Still, that wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him to call you. So, you let it slide.

"Well, for sure it’s better than staying in bed tossing and turning."

He let out a small giggle, he knew you were one of those to fight a lot with your bed at night.

"Good morning, love."

"Good afternoon to you?" You didn’t know what timezone he was on, so you tried.

"Try again." He said with a smiling voice.

"Good night!" You said like you had guessed the lottery numbers.

He let out a giggle sound and said, "Give little Nari 1000 kisses from me, will you?

"Why just a thousand?" You said with a little pout. You could hear his playful tone.

"Don’t you know our daughter? She might ask for in real life a thousand kisses; since you are the closest parent, you might fall victim to it, so I think that��s a great number for kisses."

You both giggled, Jung Nari, the lily to our garden, was at that phase where hyperboles would be a tough concept for her to grasp.

"Ok, fine." You agreed still giggling.

"I will call… stay safe."

"You too, Jaehyun."

"Bye."

"Bye."

And the line went silent.

[highinmiamiii]

NO FEELINGS - ch. 1

a billy butcher x reader story

years after a wild love in 90s London, Butcher runs into his past flame at that same grimy Nevada steakhouse he’d told Hughie about. Where he’d wanted to go with Len since they were lads. Tension, unspoken history, and unresolved feelings simmer as both grapple with what they've become.

(A/N): this is just a short little vague introduction. feedback is appreciated as always—let me know what you think! and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just drop a comment. thank you for the support, i cannot wait to get really started on this. prelude chapter set in 90s london soon…

Butcher slid into the worn leather booth of the topless steakhouse, the place he’d told Hughie about. The one he’d always wanted to visit with Lenny. He wasn't sure what drove him here now, maybe the weight of unfinished promises, or the itch of an unfinished life, maybe a celebration for finally having the key to end this all. Kessler—his ever-present darker conscience—sneered from across the table, leaning back like he owned the place.

“Celebratin', are we? Makin’ a toast to not being a dead man... yet?" Kessler’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe crack a cold one open to that virus, eh? Damn good reason to have a drink.”

Butcher ignored him, waving down the waitress instead. The place smelled of grease, burnt meat, and the faint, familiar scent of desperation—Nevada in all its glory. The steakhouse was a dive. Dim lights, gaudy neon signs, waitresses in barely-there outfits serving patrons who barely looked alive. It felt appropriate, a place where he could fade into the noise and booze.

His mind kept drifting back to Lenny, to the promises they made as boys. But Lenny was long gone, and Butcher was still here. Breathing. Existing. Barely.

“What’s the point, mate?” Kessler drawled, a smug grin tugging at his lip. “You’ve come this far, might as well end it on a high note. Wipe ‘em all out—‘every last one’ like ya said, whoever’s left. Ain’t no room for savin’ the day, Billy. That ain’t you.”

Butcher lit a cigarette, ignoring the imaginary weight of Kessler's presence. He hadn’t come to make decisions tonight—he just needed a moment to exist outside the war he was fighting, the war inside himself.

That’s when the waitress appeared. He barely looked up from his drink as she spoke. A raspy, tired voice offered him a menu, but it wasn’t her voice that caught him—it was the ink on her arm.

There, on her inner upper arm, was a faded “Never Mind the Bollocks” tattoo. The same damn Sex Pistols tattoo he’d drunkenly convinced the girl who he’d thought would be the love of his life to get years ago in London.

The memories hit him like a punch in the gut.

🇬🇧 London, 1990s 🇬🇧

They’d met at some dive punk show, a dingy pub filled with misfits, and she had been the loudest voice in the room. She wasn’t British, that much was clear. Her accent, her defiance—everything about her screamed rebellion. She’d saved for years just to get to London, to live the life she’d always dreamed of. But the reality was different. Money was tighter, dreams crumbled under the weight of the city’s indifference, and the romantic notion of freedom faded with every job rejection and overpriced rent.

Butcher had been drawn to her fire—an American girl with grungy style and stubborn resolve. She reminded him of himself. Bold. Fearless. But unlike him, she still had a dream. That dream had kept her going.

They’d spent nights stumbling through the streets of Camden, getting drunk on cheap lager, ranting about the world’s injustices. And then one night, after too many drinks and too many laughs, he’d dragged her to a tattoo parlor.

“Go on then, love, don’t be a priss, get the ink. Bollocks to it,” he’d slurred. And she had. The tattoo was a reminder of their wild nights, of a time when the world felt theirs to conquer.

But then Lenny had died. His world crumbled. Butcher became a ghost of himself. He stopped answering her calls. Stopped showing up. Not because he didn’t love her—but because the weight of grief suffocated any connection he’d had to the world, to her. Seasons faded, savings ran out, friend groups grew apart and suddenly she was back in the states, no sign of his presence or existence in sight but the small reminder of what they had, or rather, what could’ve been, on her left arm.

He looked up at her now, and something in his chest tightened. She didn’t recognize him—not immediately. He looked different. Older. Weathered. And she? She’d aged too, but there was still a flicker of that fire behind her eyes, dulled perhaps, but not gone.

Butcher felt Kessler smirking at him from across the table, his voice low and mocking. “Well, well... Looks like fate’s a real bastard, huh? Fancy seeing her here. What’s next, a reunion? Gonna sweep her off her feet again? You ain’t that guy anymore, Billy. We both know it”

He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

The waitress set his drink down, her expression neutral, maybe a little bored. But her eyes lingered on him for a second too long. Butcher’s gut twisted. Did she know? Or was it just a flicker of memory, a hint of recognition buried beneath the years?

He offered her a smirk. “Nice ink.”

she cocks her head back, taking a long deep breath, knowing he’s likely noticed by now as much as she didn’t want him to. she’d spent so long trying to erase him from my memory, she felt so foolish for letting myself fall so deeply in love with him all those years ago. she rests her hand on her hip and adjust the very thin white tank top they had her working in, thank god no one had tipped me enough to take it off yet, this place was fucking dehumanizing. even more embarrassing to see butcher here after all these years, she never thought she’d see him again, thought they’d be separated by continent for the rest of time. Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t bite. “Old mistake,” she said, her voice clipped, as if daring him to say more.

“Looks like she remembers,” Kessler snickered in his head.

Butcher leaned back, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Aren’t we all just walkin’ mistakes?” He said with a deep sigh.

She didn’t answer, just shot him a look—a look with all the bitter undertones he deserved. But she didn’t say a word, and as she walked away, he could feel the weight of the past settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Last thing she wants is to hear from you again man” Kessler’s voice taunted in his ear.

Maybe. But for the first time in years, Butcher wasn’t sure he wanted to.

She walked away, heart pounding. She knew. God, she knew the moment she saw him. Those goddamn eyes and stupid cocky wide smirk she’d fallen for all those years ago. The snarky demeanor that kept her going until one day he was gone. The way his eyes widened when he saw the tattoo was a dead giveaway, but it was the way he carried himself—the same stoicism, the same haunted look behind those eyes. Billy Butcher, of course. Great.

She’d spent years trying to forget. And now here he was, like some ghost from the past, sitting in the sleaziest steakhouse in Nevada, looking like death warmed over. Part of her wanted to slap him, to scream at him for leaving, for abandoning her without a word after Lenny’s death. But she knew she had gotten too attached. It’d been what, a year together? How dumb of her to think or believe that it would’ve ever been more than a fling. She had to come back to America eventually, they both knew the jig would be up soon, she just hadn’t expected it to end so abruptly.

So instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat, wiped the grimy table next to his, and said nothing.

This wasn’t London. She wasn’t the girl she used to be. She’d been young, stupid, and hopelessly in love. Now she was just... tired. Working for tips in a place that smelled like old beer and regret, serving men who didn’t care enough to look her in the eye. This was what her life had come to. And seeing Butcher again only twisted the knife deeper.

But no. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. Not yet. Not ever.

Butcher watched her walk away, a strange heaviness settling over him. The memories of London were sharp, but the reality in front of him was sharper. She’d changed. So had he.

“So what now?” Kessler whispered. “Stick around? See if you can fuck things up again? You’re real good at that, ain’t ya?”

Maybe. But something in him, something deep and stubborn, made him want to stay. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something worse. Whatever it was, Butcher wasn’t leaving Nevada. Not yet.

He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the back. Whatever had brought him here tonight—fate, coincidence, or just bad fucking luck—he wasn’t walking away from it.

Not this time.

current tags: @sickforbillybutcher