#i only just figured out i lost them yesterday and i wanted to wait a bit to see if i could find them

[boomerang109]

spent my birthday money on replacing my loops cause somehow i lost them and this world is too loud

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (2)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Tension, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Claustrophobia

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: i initially wanted this chapter to be a little spicy, but the waves of missing bangtan kept crashing over me as i was writing it... and i couldn’t help but be a softie. 😩 nevertheless, hope you all still enjoy this chapter. please let me know what you think. thanks for being here. thanks for reading, love you all <3😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You’re a rockstar.

You know it.

You’re commanding the room.

Your high-waisted skirt hugs your curves flawlessly, paired with a crisp white button-up and a belt to accentuate your silhouette.

You stepped into your killer stiletto heels, the ones that always make you feel powerful.

And like the rockstar you are, you breezed through your presentation with ease—after all, you’d poured days of hard work into it, and it showed. Jungkook's tweaks made a huge difference, and despite everything that happened yesterday, you’re incredibly grateful for his help.

The praise from your manager and colleagues felt like the cherry on top of a grueling quarter, and you couldn’t help but bask in a well-earned wave of pride.

After all, being in Sales is not for the faint of heart. It is a demanding job that requires sheer will and resilience.

But you're grateful to have met genuine friends at work.

The kind that makes work feel like less work.

Hanging out with them—whether it's sneaky breaks during the day or wild post-work dinners and drinks—is something you seriously look forward to. You get the juiciest gossip and fresh perspectives from every corner of the office.

“YN! Congrats on the presentation! As expected of you. You did great, babes!” Jimin cheers as he wraps you in one of his signature tight hugs, while you're making coffee in the pantry. He’s a hugger—you figured that out pretty quickly. Jimin was introduced to you by Yoongi, who you were friends with long before joining this company, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

"Thanks, Jiminie. Ugh, I almost didn’t make it today. My laptop broke down yesterday and I seriously thought I lost everything. IT totally saved me, though." You said, still feeling the stress of it all.

"Whoa, jeez... So, you met the new IT guy, Jungkook? Yoongi introduced him to us last week, I think? Said he's a friend of a friend..." He trails off, eyes following a pretty intern passing by you.

You followed his gaze, then quickly turned back to him. "Wait, he was Yoongi's friend? No, I hadn't seen him until yesterday..."

His face flashes in your mind again, and you feel a flare in your chest, and your core...

But the inked arm, the lip ring... his moans when he was—

"—coming?" Jimin interrupts, eyes narrowed, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Wha—huh?” you blink.

"I said, are you coming? Later? Dino's? Let’s celebrate that killer presentation!" Jimin grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh! Yeah... Yeah, of course!" you laughed, a little too nervously.

"You good? You look a little bothered," he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Yeah! I’m fine. Just remembered something I need to wrap up today," you lied.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. See you at Dino's after 5!" He winked and flashed a final grin before his Chelsea boots clicked down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You head back to your desk, trying to distract yourself with some admin work as the hours drag on. You make a conscious effort to avoid the IT room, which is easy enough since it’s tucked away at the far corner of the floor.

But your thoughts keep drifting back to the server room...

By the time the clock hits 5, you're more than ready to bolt. Bag slung over your shoulder, makeup refreshed, and a swipe of some cherry red lipstick —and you’re all set to end this interesting week.

Dino’s is the usual spot for your crew. Just a few blocks from the office, it's hosted everything from Yoongi’s promotion to Jimin finally getting his PTO approved (his boss is an ass).

You walk into the bar and spot Allie right away, waving you over with that big, excited grin of hers. You head over to their table, and give her a peck on the cheek.  

“Hey girl! I heard you slayed that presentation! Congrats!!!” she says, her voice all sweet and perky, like cotton candy and sunshine.

"Thanks! I really prepared for it," you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"Yeah, Jimin told me! Remember what the guy from Marketing called you? The one who tried to flirt with you while obviously married? Anyway—he called you an office vixen with brains and a nice ass. Remember? I totally agree with the guy. 100%," she recalled, laughing.

You love her.

While Yoongi is like rain at night—a brooding but steady force, someone who hangs back like training wheels on a bike. He never judges, but you still tread carefully. A man of few words, but a volume of presence… a warm cup of coffee, and sound advice—

Allie and Jimin are like the sun after the rain—radiant, gentle, and warm. You’ve always admired that about them. They draw people in, like moths to a flame. Their smiles always radiate a comforting energy that makes everyone feel seen.

“So, Yoongi’s out until next week...” Jimin said, scanning the group and doing a quick headcount. “Allie and YN are here. Tae’s coming in a bit...”

Now, Taehyung… is like sunset. There’s ember in his eyes, golden sparks, a warmth that lingers long after the light fades. In those eyes, there’s another universe you can only wish to be part of, a universe no one fully grasps, yet everything he does feels strangely familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing. Like watching a VHS tape of your childhood.

You love them. You adore them.

“He said he’s with some guys from his department” Jimin's still on his phone, probably texting Taehyung. “… Jungkook's with them too."

You froze for a moment, your dreamy gaze at your friends quickly replaced by uneasiness.

You love them. You adore them.

It was the kind of moment that made you want to break the fourth wall, shooting a knowing look to some imaginary audience as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”, like you were in a sitcom or some made-up character.

Which, of course, you’re not.

But the thought of Jungkook coming... to this bar, was making you nervous. Your mind kept circling around the word coming, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to kick yourself for being ridiculously stupid and childish right now.

You’re not sure how to face him. You’re just glad he didn’t catch you in the server room. That would’ve been awkward, right? What would you even say to him? Like “Hey? Nice dick? Need a hand? Or rather… another hand?”

And that you still don’t know what you feel. Flattered? But also creeped out? But also turned on?

That you came so hard moaning his name last night?

Because goddamn...

Your face flushes, and you can feel the warmth in places it definitely shouldn’t be, so you force yourself to pull it together before anyone notices.

Just as you think you’ve regained control, he walks in.

Jungkook.

In black long sleeves, a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and dark pants held by a belt, perfectly showcasing his waist.

How does this guy have the face of an angel and the body of a devil? You don’t understand.

You take a deep breath, forcing your thoughts to calm as Taehyung greets you with a quick but tight hug. His other friends follow, entering with happy smiles, high fives, and loud greetings. As everyone settles in, Jungkook casually slides into the seat in front of you. And for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Or how to act. Because what the fuck?

“Hey,” he said, not meeting your eyes, his focus fixed on the menu he was absently flipping through.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice awkward and unsure. You tried to mask it, but the effort only made it sound even more awkward.

“Didn’t know you’d be here. Thought it was just Tae and some guys…”

“Yeah, um, Tae and the group—we come here often,” you say, your voice weak and almost whispery.

But why are you whispering?

No way were you letting him have this kind of effect on you—not when you were rocking your killer stilettos. You, cowering for a guy? Please. Sure, you saw what he did. Sure, you felt what you felt. And so what? Big deal.

You tried to regain confidence. You straightened your back.

You shoved the lingering dirty thoughts aside, reminding yourself you had something important to say.

“Hey, I know I already thanked you, but really—thank you for helping me yesterday. What you did saved me so much time, and honestly, it made my presentation a lot better. So, thanks.” Your tone was genuine, your words earnest.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips, revealing a small dimple that you definitely didn’t need to notice right now.

“No worries, glad I could help,” he replied casually, wiping the condensation from his beer glass with a napkin, then meticulously drying the table around it. For someone so effortlessly attractive, he was almost annoyingly neat.

The night deepened, and like a typical Friday night, the bar was packed. Everyone seemed tipsy now.

The group was a chaotic mess. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing loudly enough to drown out the bar’s music. Gossip, banter, and office inside jokes flowed just as freely as the drinks. You noticed Jungkook, just as engaged in the conversation, chiming in with playful jabs and high-fives every now and then.

You lost it when Taehyung stood up, dragging a protesting Jimin toward the dance floor. Jimin half-heartedly tried to resist, but it was clear the drinks were starting to work their magic on both of them.

"I don’t dance, leave me alone!" Jimin said, shoving Taehyung.

"I had a dream that in your past life, you were a popular dancer," Taehyung laughed, only to wince as Jimin pinched him.

Just as you were enjoying the chaos the two were causing, a glass of beer tipped over, spilling its contents all over your white blouse. The cold liquid seeping into the thin fabric and drenching your chest.

Taehyung and Jimin, completely oblivious to the whole incident, were now laughing and stumbling their way onto the dance floor, joining the chaotic mass of bodies in the center.

Startled, you glanced down, inspecting the damage as you saw Allie scramble around, searching for something to help with the mess.

But Jungkook was quick to react, handing you a stack of tissues.

“Here,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grabbing the napkins and frantically dabbing at your blouse. It was no use. The thin fabric clung to your skin, and despite the dim lights, the outline of your black lace bra was now clearly visible.

You didn’t see Jungkook swallow hard as he quickly averted his gaze to the crowd, but he felt his pants tighten, forcing him to adjust in his seat.

You stood up as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Time to salvage what you could of your outfit. And your dignity.

You stayed in the bathroom, drying your blouse with the hand dryer, the hum of the machine filling the tiny space against the loud music outside. As you stand there, your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. Your eyeliner's a little smudged, your hair's a bit messy, in a kind of way that you like.

Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook, and how he carries himself within the group. So effortlessly cool and funny. You notice he wasn’t shy, like what you initially though he was. It’s still kinda awkward to look at him without flashes of him in the server room popping into your mind, but you’ve noticed he tends to avoid your gaze.

It’s strange though, because he’s not like that with anyone else.

After a few minutes, when your shirt feels dry enough, you step out of the bathroom, making your way back to your table.

But as soon as you take a few steps, a group of obviously drunk people shoving each other stumbles into you... and suddenly you're caught in the middle of their wild commotion. You try to make your way through, but the noise and the chaos are overwhelming, and you're shoved in every direction, feeling dizzy and helpless as you're swept along by the force of their movements.

Panic claws at your chest.

And breathing feels suddenly harder.

Just as you feel your knees begin to buckle, firm, strong hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. In one smooth motion, the man pulls you closer, his body a solid wall, caging you against the chaos around you. You glance up, the first thing your eyes catching is the lip ring glinting in the dim light, and then you realize—he’s taller than you, even with your heels.

What… Why is Jungkook here?

You feel his body jerk with every forceful bump from the crowd, each time pulling you closer to his chest. His jaw clenches with every impact, and you feel his grip on you tightens in response.

Suddenly, you feel him guide you away from the crowd. He struggles for a moment as he pushes through, but his strength is undeniable. Before you know it, he's gently steering you to a quieter corner of the bar, where there’s more space and the air feels easier to breathe again.

You close your eyes, trying to regain your breath and balance.

"You okay?" His voice is gentle but firm. He’s waiting for an answer.

You nod, eyes still shut, but words are stuck in your throat.

You hate tight, enclosed spaces, and you know things could’ve turned dangerous if Jungkook hadn’t intervened in time. A pang of gratitude tugs at your chest again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the ringing in your ears won’t stop, and your lips and fingers feel numb. The air feels so thick, refusing to fill your lungs properly, and everything around you seemstocloseinmakingithardertobreathe.

“Hey, what do you need?” He stares at you with concern, his gaze steady and unwavering. His hands rest gently on your shoulders, his presence calm as he silently waits for you to respond.

The noise grows louder, it's suffocating, overwhelming. You can’t breathe.

Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid gasps.

Without a word, Jungkook caged your frame with his arms, weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

Air.

Space.

The moment you step outside, you hear him say, "Breathe, YN. You're okay," over and over as you manage to let more air into your lungs.

The space feels infinite, and slowly, you finally breathe freely again.

Jungkook sat silently with you in his car, the windows rolled down, letting in the cool night air.

The parking lot was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside the bar. The car felt like a fortress, a safe space, away from the overwhelming noise and suffocating crowd you’d just escaped.

You stayed silent, focusing on steadying yourself, grounding your thoughts with the breathing exercises you’d practiced and used countless times before.

He remained quiet, only glancing at you now and then. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed—peace, space, calm.

After a few moments, when you finally felt like you could breathe again, you let out a soft sigh and turned to him. “You saved me again.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sparing you a brief glance, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s the second time you saved my life,” you said, a light smile tugging at your lips.

“Hmmm,” Jungkook hummed again, this time without even glancing at you. His focus remained straight ahead, though there was a softness in his expression.

“Are you always this quiet?” you asked, a playful smile creeping onto your face.

“Hmmm,” he repeated, but this time, his lips quirked into a subtle smile that revealed those tiny dimples on his cheeks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you feel a jittery sensation in your stomach. You quickly looked away.

Shut up, you thought to yourself. Shut the front door, lock it, throw away the key, and set the whole house on fire.

“Well, thank you. Again,” you said with a soft laugh. Then, in a quieter tone, you admitted, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten to me on time.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with concern. “Does this happen to you often? You know, attacks?”

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly. “In the past... but it’s gotten better. I haven’t had an attack in a year, but... I guess what happened earlier was just too much.”

“I see…” he replied quietly, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, finally feeling yourself relax a little more. “I feel better now. And really… thank you. I mean it—I’m truly grateful.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the car and the stillness of the night.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits, and you can’t help but let out a yawn.

“You should rest,” Jungkook says softly. “I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

You glance at him, questioning with your eyes, as if silently asking if he’s okay to drive. He notices and reassures you, “Don’t worry. I only had two bottles, and that was hours ago. I’m good.”

Too drained to argue, you simply nod and accept his offer.

7 missed calls.

18 messages.

You finally checked your phone and quickly called your friends back, explaining what had happened and assuring them Jungkook was kind enough to drive you home.

“Here, Taehyung wants to talk to you,” you said, handing the phone to Jungkook.

He took it without hesitation, his expression calm as he listened. “Mm,” he nodded a few times, offering short, clipped answers before handing the phone back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung asked for the third time, his voice laced with concern. In the background, you could hear Allie and Jimin babbling on the phone, their words slurring and pointless, as they were clearly drunk.

“Yes, Tae, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a small sigh, grateful but slightly exasperated.

After a few more exchanges of "call me when you get home," you finally ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a tired exhale.

You entered your address on an app Jungkook’s phone, your fingers briefly brushing against his as you handed it back to him. For a split second, you felt him stiffen, but he quickly regained composure, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without saying a word.

The drive was quiet, the kind of calm that made you feel sleepier. You stared out the window, the passing buildings turning into light streaks making your eyes heavy.

You were surprised by how comforting Jungkook’s presence was—like yesterday had never happened, but between then and now, so much had occurred, and he felt… strangely familiar.

Jungkook would glance at you every now and then, but the two of you didn’t speak.

The silence spoke words that didn’t need to be said. You basked in the comfort of it throughout the rest of the drive.

The drive felt long, but somehow it went by quickly. Jungkook pulled over with ease, and he glanced at you when you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"Hey, thank you again for tonight— for everything," you say, the hum of the car steady, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nods. Then he meets your eyes. Then he smiles.

You watch the curve of his mouth, your eyes lingering on the silver ring in his lip.

He catches your gaze, then the rest of your face, then your lips.

Your heart beats loudly now, echoing against the steady hum of the car.

And just as you thought your heart was about to leap out of your chest—

"Goodnight," Jungkook says softly, his voice low and steady, his gaze lingering on yours.

For a moment, it feels like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You manage to say "goodnight" in the faintest voice, barely audible.

You step out of the car and make your way quickly to your apartment building. Once you reach your unit and close the door behind you, you hear the soft sound of his car pulling away.

And as you settle into the warmth and comfort of your house, a deep sense of calm settles over you. A wave of déjà vu washes over you, making you pause.

You close your eyes, trying to remember when you’ve felt this way before.

And you can almost feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through you.

 Your mind drifts back to the car.

With Jungkook.

🐙 a/n: Hiii!!! Please let me know whatchu think and which part you liked, or did not like lol! I like hearing your thoughts <3 again, thanks for reading and see you in Part 3! Mwaaahh 😘 or if you have kwesjins, letmeknowww!!!

Taglist: @taekritimin123 @vantelover1306 @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @daskewl @almatiarau

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

[neocrias]

I just know you - c.hs

synopsis: you take the day to be quiet and distant, but your boyfriend doesn't really seem to notice.

pairing: vernon x gn reader

wc: 1k; super short, really just for the vibes

genre/aus: fluff; estabilished relationship

warnings: none at all lol; vernon is really a simp and reader is a little childish.

"So... you haven't even noticed, right?" you cross your arms, leaning against the wall while giving the most cynical look at your boyfriend sitting at the sofa.

Vernon takes off his headphones clumsily with a confused look on his face, turning to look at you with his eyebrows knit-together.

"Sorry, what?" that's all he says. You almost roll your eyes, offended. You haven't gotten off your bedroom almost all day, so he should at least be worried...right?

But Vernon apparentely was way too off to notice anything. Ever since you woke up, passing through him in the living room only once to get to the kitchen and drink some water, he's been the same: lying there with headphones on while watching something on his ipad.

"I haven't talked to you all day. And you didn't even notice it." You blurt out, coughing after you made your effort to speak.

"Well...I figured you'd have a sore throat after the karaoke you went to yesterday with your friends." He shrug his shoulders, tensing them right afterwards. "Wait...is there another reason? Did I do something?"

You freeze. That's precisely the reason you've been quiet in your room all day. But how did he figure that all by himself?

Actually, you have been enjoying some lazy time to yourself. You woke up with a dry throat and you just knew your day was over, so all you could do ever since then was laying, watching TV, drinking water and staying as quiet as possible not to worsen your condition. At some point, you were even mentally thanking your boyfriend for being so low-maintenance and not getting out of the couch to make you questions or picking up conversation, because you knew you couldn't resist his big brown eyes and would end up talking to him all afternoon. However, after some reflection, you were also wondering why the hell would he think it was normal for you two to spend the whole day going non-verbal. You missed him, and you wanted him to annoyingly make you speak even though you couldn't for being almost voiceless and incredibly tired.

He didn't even notice you were silent all day. He didn't miss you like you missed him - at least that's what you thought, and these thoughts made you march to him pissed off and slightly upset, with a frown and a big pout on your face - all which slowly melted at his confession.

"B-but you didn't even check on me..." You purred, still a little sulky. Vernon just raised his eyebrows, seeming a bit lost.

"I just thought you'd like to rest."

You take a deep breath. Okay. Your boyfriend is, indeed, considerate - which makes your heart flutter a little - but you had somewhat a pride on you, and even though you were speechless - both by your physical conditions and his cute demeanor - you couldn't let him win that easily.

"You...you could've offered me some medicine. Or mint drops. Why didn't you offer me mint drops?" You really had to invent something to complain about at this point, like a child, because he just left you so mesmerized.

"But they're in your bed stand. I bought some in the morning when I was at the grocery shop." Vernon clarifies, smiling a little and your hearts stops for a moment. He's the cutest, and I'm stupid.

You stop for a while, not knowing what to say next.

"...So, you're not upset that I didn't talk or approach you?"

Vernon shakes his head.

"And you didn't mind that I was in my room all day resting?"

He repeats the gesture, pouting a little.

"I don't get it..." You cough. "You knew all of this beforehand, and you didn't even get mad that I didn't talk to you all day!? You just let me be because that was exactly what I wanted? It makes no sense! Wow, you must really-" You raise your voice out of surprise, but it fails in the middle of your monologue, causing you to cough really hard and your throat to hurt quite a lot.

"Hey, you shouldn't force it, babe." Vernon warns carefully, moving a little on the sofa to look at you better. "What was it?"

You grab the closest notebook at the coffee table and a pen, starting to write what you were going to tell him before you got cut out by your own malfunctioning throat.

"Wow, you must really like me then" Your caligraphy spells. Vernon tightens his eyes as he approaches to read the paper in your hands better, and when he's finished, he throws you a shy smile.

"I'd say a fair amount." He shrugs his shoulders, playfully, watching you roll your eyes at him. "Fine, let's get you to bed then. I'll be by your side since you miss me so much and can't stand a whole day without my company. Just remember not to talk, darling."

Vernon motions to stand up, but you stop him before he does it, writing once again on the notebook before showing it to him.

"And how did you know I was voiceless?"

"Well, last night when you arrived and was telling me about the karaoke and how much you had fun, your voice sounded a little odd, so I just figured it would be even worse by today."

"You're really that attentive!?" You can't help but exclamate at loud, surprised at how loved you can feel by him. Vernon rapidly moves to shut you, starting to guide you towards the bedroom.

"Shhh, let's go rest, babe." It's all he says. What Vernon ommits, though, is that of course he'd pay attention to the minimal details of your voice. After all, that's one of his favorite features of you. It's your sweet voice that tells him the most loveable things he's ever heard and of course he missed hearing it during that day, but he just really wanted you to get better.

After all, it seemed like dating super quiet and chill Vernon ended up being more tender than you could ever imagine. He just knew you too damn well.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[apute11as]

Chosen family - Barcelona femeni x teen!reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping a secret for too long and the team start to figure it out and how to help you through it!

Warnings⚠️ Abus3, vi0lence, loss of parents, descriptions of injury, angst, hurt comfort, fluff

Author note: hey guys this is an angsty one, don’t read if you get triggered by any of the themes above! Hope everyone is well, I’ll be posting at lot more soon just getting through exam season right now! But yeah enjoy the story, leave any feedback or requests in the comments 🩷

P.s. My DMs are always open for anything, Woso related or if you just want to talk! Always here for anything xx

~~~~~~~~~~

You tried to push down the worry of your current situation as you got ready for training in your room. You were only 16 years old, due to your mother passing a year ago, you lived with your father in Barcelona.

The team knew about all of this of course, Alexia more than anyone had been especially supportive, knowing how it felt having lost her father when she wasn’t much older than you. She’d become somewhat of a sister to you. Her, alba and Eli becoming the female figures you lacked in your life, always offering advice and help whenever you needed it.

They knew your father wasn’t the most loving and that since your mother’s passing he’d become a cruel depiction of his former self. What they didn’t know was quite how deep that cruelty ran. He had turned to drinking when your mother had died, you regularly came home from training to find him passed out from the alcohol. It had started as pitiful, he’d just cry and you’d hug him and the two of you would comfort each other, but recently his sadness had turned to anger.

He’d always had a temper and was never the nicest but your mother’s warm presence always made his outbursts bearable but now that she was gone he had no one to regulate that anger. At first it started with hurtful words, some aimed at you and some not but in recent times, his anger had turned physical.

The first time he hit you, you’d wanted nothing more than to cry into Alexia’s arms and have her tell you everything was going to be ok. You decided against that, using your better judgment that it would cause a complicated mess that you didn’t want to condemn her to. It had happened twice more since, on Monday he’d shoved you backwards into a wardrobe, causing you to cut your head, something you’d brushed off as tripping and falling which the team seemed to buy. Yesterday he’d grabbed you by the wrists and squeezed until bruises formed, before pushing you into the table where you bashed your ribs.

Now as you observed yourself in the mirror, you could see the dark bruises that had already formed across your stomach and ribs, matching ones adorned your wrists. You pulled your hoodie over your head and slung your bag over your shoulder, wincing slightly as it came back round and hit your side.

Ingrid and Mapi would be here to pick you up soon as they’d starting taking you to training as you’d told them your father picked up earlier shifts at work (also known as day drinking). Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door you leaped from your spot in the kitchen and went to open it. You of course, were met with the faces of Mapi and Ingrid who smiled widely at you.

“Hola pequeña!” beamed Mapi

“Hola Mapi” you sighed. What you weren’t expecting was for her to barge through the door.

“Sorry bebita I just need to fill up my water. Someone decided to take a sharp turn whilst I was having a drink.” She explained, gesturing to Ingrid who looked unimpressed at the blonde’s antics.

“Woah what’s all this?” She questioned at the various, empty beer and rum bottles that littered your kitchen.

“Erm my dad had some people over yesterday that’s all” you offered nervously

“Seems like they had quite a party” she said, getting at the sheer quantity of it with a raised eyebrow.

“Haha yeah I don’t know I wasn’t there” you replied

“Wait where were you then?” asked Ingrid, asserting herself into the conversation

“Well… I was at my friend’s house for a bit, then I came home” you offered, unconvincingly.

“Oh ok then, well grown adults really should be clearing up after themselves, we can swing by after and help you if your dad is at work?” Added Mapi

“NO!” You yelled, alarming the pair of them. “Sorry, no thank you he’ll be home later and said he’d sort it but thanks anyways” you said, attempting to save yourself due to the accidental outburst.

“Sure that’s fine…” Mapi replied, sounding unsure

“Ready to go now?” Questioned Ingrid from her new found position in the hallway

“Yep so ready!” You responded

The drive to training was slightly awkward, so you’d ask for some music in an attempt to diffuse the situation (it had little effect).

——

Upon reaching the ground, you hurried out the car and wandered a little ahead, fully aware of the fact that they strolled behind muttering about your odd behaviour. You made it inside with the couple trailing a few paces behind you and were met with the smiling face of Lucy bronze.

“Hey y/n how are you?” She beamed

“Hey Luce I’m good how are you?” You replied, offering her a smile of your own

“Good good, Keira kept pestering me about being late this morning though” she said with a sigh

“You were still in bed when we were leaving in 30 minutes!” Keira insisted with an eye roll.

You chuckled at the couple’s childlike antics as you walked over to your locker and began stripping off your clothing when you heard a sharp intake of breath next to you.

“What?” You questioned the English defender

“What happened to your ribs?” She asked in a hushed voice

“Mierda, I forgot about them. I erm tripped… and fell… into the bed post” you replied, knowing you had to work on your lying.

“It looks quite painful and it’s all around your front and sides, how can you do that from falling?” Asked Lucy, concern lacing her voice

“I just did ok, leave it please!” You demanded with a huff, pulling your jersey over your head.

Lucy didn’t push further, though she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you.

——

When you finally made it outside you were met with the warm Catalonian sun beaming down on your face. You had a mandatory team talk and then Jonatan, as usual asked you to pair up. Without a second thought, alexia gripped your wrists and dragged you to her to partner up. You winced noticeably at the gesture as her firm grip found its self on the new formed bruises from yesterday.

“Estas bien pequeña (are you ok)” she questioned with a concerned expression

“Si Ale estoy bien (I’m ok)” you assured the older girl.

“What’s this on your wrists?” She inquired with a firm tone. “Did I do this?” she was now increasingly concerned.

“No no you didn’t do it it was already there” you replied hurriedly

“What was it from?” She questioned further

“Erm from… the match? I had a tussle with someone she gripped my wrists too hard” you lied

“You’re lying to me bebita I can see it in your eyes” she scolded “but why are you lying I don’t understand” her brow furrowed

“Alexia! Y/N! Stop gossiping and get over here!” Yelled Mapi in a teasing tone, a tone that only she could get away with using towards Alexia due to their close friendship

“ay dios mío Maria we’re coming” replied Alexia and before she could say anything more you’d disappeared, already jogging over to join the group and no doubt, avoid her further questioning.

——

Training ended and you rushed ahead, desperate to get away asap to avoid questioning from the multiple behaviours that had noticed your odd behaviour or the state of your body.

You reached the changing room out of breath (more so from sprinting over there than the actual 2 hour training session you’d just attended). You quickly shoved your stuff into your bag and began to scramble away before your upper arm was grasped.

“Where do you think you’re going” rung the voice of Lucy Bronze

“Home?” You replied as if it were obvious

“I thought Alexia was taking you home?” She questioned

“Oh erm yeah tell her it’s ok I’m gonna take a bus” you offered hoping she’d leave you alone

“Alexia come here” beckoned Lucy, her body shielding you from the exit, as you groaned at the implications of this conversation.

“Que pasa?” Questioned alexia with curiosity

“Y/N says she’s getting the bus home” grasped Lucy

“No she’s coming with me? I’m taking her home” she was confused.

“I think the two of you need to have a chat” suggested the brunette

“Yes I think so too” Alexia responded, her disapproval clear in her voice.

The two of you wandered to her car silently, she kept glancing over at you, almost to check you hadn’t disappeared again. She even opened the car door and watched you get in to ensure your presence.

The drive started in silence yet again, with you picking at the skin on your fingernails, but that was short lived.

“Bebita please answer me truthfully when I ask you this…” Alexia began, her eyes not leaving the road ahead. “What happened to your wrists and ribs? Yes Lucy told me about that before you change the subject again” she finished

“I don’t know what to say Ale” you said, your eyes beginning to gloss over.

“The truth Por favor amor” she insisted, her eyes still not looking at yours.

“My papa, he’s taken up drinking lately, quite heavily and it’s changed him” you started

Alexia knew where this was going but she let you finish, unsure of what to say even when you did.

“He-he gets angry now all the time. He used to be an angry person anyways but Mama always used to calm him down and now she’s gone I just-“ you choked back on tears.

Alexia had pulled the car over and took your hand it hers, squeezing gently as if willing you to continue.

“He would shout at me, come home drunk and just scream” you continued. “It wasn’t physical for a while it was just words, b-but recently…” you trailed off once more, finally meeting Alexia’s eyes that were glossed over and full of sadness. “Recently he started to do other things. He hit me and threw me into things, like in something to take his anger out on” Alexia’s grip lay firmer on your hand as she let you finish. “It’s like he’s a different person lo siento” you spluttered as the tears streamed down your face

“Bebita you have nothing! And I mean nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry that we didn’t notice sooner” she replied with a maternal warmth in voice.

“It’s ok Ale I was trying to hide it” you added, calming down a little.

“But why pequeña? We could’ve helped you” tears were threatening to fall from her eyes now.

“But all that would happen is I’d end up in care or on my own and I can’t do that Ale, anyone is better than no one at all” you urged.

“You would have had me! You do have me!” She corrected.

“I know Alexia and I love you so much for that but I couldn’t live with you, interrupt your life, how would you girlfriend feel?” You questioned the blonde.

“She would understand bebita you know that really” insisted Alexia.

“What am I going to do” you cried

“Is he home?” She asked

“Who?” You rebounded

“Your papa” Alexia winced at the name that in her opinion, that man was no longer worthy of.

“No he’ll be at the bar for at least a few more hours”

“Bueno, we’re going to go back to your apartment and gather some stuff and then we’re going to drive to my Mami’s okay?”

“Okay” you weren’t overly convinced yet you still went along with the older girl’s plan, praying your father hadn’t decided to make an early departure from the bar.

——

Upon reaching your apartment block, you gave Alexia your keys as she insisted she would go first, keeping a protective arm on your body behind hers. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised your father was still out.

Alexia’s eyes scanned the floor, taking in the broken glass and general mess everywhere, the two of you tread carefully over to your room. The first thing Alexia noticed upon entering was the sheer contrast of your bedroom, to the rest of the house. It was near spotless, with most of your belongings having seemingly vanished.

“I put most of it under my bed or in the wardrobe” you proclaimed, as if you’d just read her mind. “I didn’t want to give him any extra ammo” you half joked, but Alexia didn’t laugh, instead she pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that said more than words ever could.

You pulled away eventually, realising that you were going to have to start doing some packing as every minute that ticked by was time closer to your father coming home. You started by gathering up your football gear, as it was likely your most important possessions, asides from your memory box that you’d made up when your mother had passed. Standing there for a second, you ran your hands over the cold metal of the lid, reminiscing on a time when your family was “perfect” and things were much happier.

Alexia on the other side of your room, was gathering up some clothes for you. On another day, you’d cringe at the fact that your captain was rummaging through your underwear drawer, but today was not that day.

“Almost done bebé?” questioned the midfielder

“So just gathering some last bits” you assured her, before piling a couple of textbooks, your water bottle and your laptop into your bag.

Just as the two of you made your way out of the bedroom, your mind clicked.

“Wait!” you urged

Alexia turned around at rapid speed, a mix of confusion and concern overtaking her. But before she could question you, you reappeared at the door holding a stuffed bear.

“Sorry it’s childish, it’s just something my Abuela gave me when I was younger”

“No no not childish at all, it’s sweet actually” she smiled. “Don’t tell anyone but I’ve still got my childhood teddy bear at the back of my wardrobe” she admitted

“Really?”

“Sí, now vamos cariño” she insisted

——

You loaded your stuff into Alexia’s cupra before walking around to open the passenger seat door, Alexia following suit.

“I’ve text Mami telling her what’s happened and she said you’re more than welcome to stay at hers” offered the captain “if you’d rather stay with me that’s perfectly fine, I have a spare room, you’ll have to share with the Nala though” she chuckled.

“Thank you Alexia, I’m honestly happy either way I’m just so grateful you’ve been so kind” you replied genuinely.

“Don’t thank me chica te amo mucho ok? If you ever need anything or anyone I’m here, remember that.”

“Gracias Ale”

——

The journey to Eli’s was short and once you’d arrived, Alexia made quick work of unloading your minimal bags and carrying them all herself, despite your protests.

She did however hand one to you when the two of you reached the door, just so that she had a spare hand to knock with, which she did.

The door opened and you were surprisingly greeted with the face of Alba, Alexia’s younger sister.

“Hola chica, it’s been a while” she hugged you, albeit lighter than normal (the first indicator that her mother had told her everything).

“I saw you last week Albs” you smiled

“Oh yes… well it’s been a while anyways” she laughed awkwardly

“Hola mija” came Eli’s voice from behind

“Hola Mrs putellas, thank you so much for offering me a room” you smiled and hugged her back.

“I’ve told you call me Eli, and it’s no problem at all. I hope you don’t mind but Alexia told us what happened, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you’re basically my daughter already”

She wasn’t wrong, even before your father’s drinking problem, you were here at least once a week for dinner (Alexia and Alba insisting you were their mother’s favourite child, to which she didn’t disagree with).

“Gracias Eli” you smiled at her

——

The four of you sat and ate dinner and discussed what was to happen, ultimately deciding you’d stay with Alexia for a little while as her apartment was closer to the training grounds and it would be easier for her to take you with her everyday. Then it was decided that Eli would file for your adoption, something you knew your father would agree to as just he wasn’t himself anymore. You’d set him up in rehabilitation for his alcoholism and see to it that he gets better.

Despite Alexia’s disapproval, you’d decided not to file a statement and testify against your father, stating that it would cause unnecessary issues and that you’d be far away from him anyways. Eventually, all was agreed and you and Alexia returned home to inform Olga of the plans, which to your slight surprise, she was completely okay with.

Alexia decided that the two of you wouldn’t attend training this week, you had no match anyways due to it being Christmas break so the two of you spent some time together. This helped not only you, but her more than you’d ever know. Ultimately, you decided that you’d tell the team what happened after the break, deciding now to enjoy the holidays with your knew found family.

[ashwhowrites]

can you pleaseeeee write something like this but for robin? instead, it's just steve who keeps interrupting them. 💀 "damn it dingus you really need a girlfriend."

also, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to always post such amazing works for us to read 🫶

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Interuptions

Robin giggled as she dragged her girlfriend into the video store closet.

"You're on the clock, Buckley" Y/N teased, but doing nothing to stop her girlfriend's wandering hands.

"Just a few minutes, Steve will survive" Robin said, her lips kissing the sweet spot on Y/N's neck. Y/N gave in, shivering as Robin's lips moved around her neck. She stretched out her neck, giving Robin more access.

Within minutes the two were in a heated make out session. Robin had Y/N pushed against the wall, her hand under Y/N's bra. Y/N tried to quiet her moans as Robin played with her nipples.

The two jumped apart when the door swung open. Steve on the other side.

"I thought you locked it!" Y/N whispered harshly

Robin rolled her eyes and walked out of the closet, shoving Steve aside.

~~

Robin moaned as Y/N's tongue swirled around her clit. Her back arched off the bed and her hands were tangled in Y/N's hair.

Robin had no shame as she rode Y/N's tongue, whimpering and whining loudly. Robin loved when her girlfriend ate her out, she was skilled and knew how to make Robin melt into the mattress.

"Close" Robin choked out

"BUCKLEY!"

Robin panicked and threw the blanket over her girlfriend. Y/N under the blanket as she covered her mouth with her hand. She clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she kept them open she'd get lost in the sight of Robin's wet cunt. Robin pushed down her shirt and tried to look presentable.

Robin panted as Steve walked through her open bedroom door.

"Are you ready?" Steve asked, completely oblivious to Y/N hiding in between Robin's thighs.

"For?"

"I have a date and need you to be there In case I need to escape!" Steve explained. "Now hurry, gotta leave like yesterday."

Robin groaned as Steve walked out of her room. Y/N slipped out from the blanket, wiping her mouth.

"Maybe next time?" Y/N offered with a smile

~~

Steve was passed out drunk on Robin's couch, a long night of partying left him unconscious.

Robin waited until Steve began to snore before she got up. Walking as quietly as she could to her bedroom. She creeped in, Y/N was rubbing lotion on her legs. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she only wore a towel.

Robin closed the door behind her, a smirk on her face as she crawled on the bed. She pushed Y/N's wet hair to the side and pressed kisses to her naked skin.

"Smell amazing" Robin hummed, her hands easily moving down to Y/N's thighs. Y/N felt herself getting turned on as her girlfriend rubbed her thighs. Robin inched closer to Y/N's cunt. Using one finger to slide up and down her cunt, Y/N shivered and whined for more.

Robin took mercy on her and sunk two fingers inside her girlfriend. Y/N let out a low moan as Robin's fingers moved inside of her, Y/N clenched around her.

"Yeah? That feels good?" Robin cooed in Y/N's ear.

"Fuck, Rob" Y/N moaned

Robin smirked and slipped in another finger.

"Rub your clit for me, baby" Robin demanded. She picked up her pace, fucking Y/N harder as Y/N played with her clit. Y/N threw her head back as she circled her clit, her brain fuzzy as Robin's fingers hit every spot inside of her.

"I need to cum" Y/N whined, rubbing her clit as fast as she could as Robin fucked her.

"Right there!" Y/N gasped, "there fuck"

"ROBIN I NEED TO PUKE!" Steve's loud voice cut through the room. Both girls groaned with frustration as Robin removed her fingers.

Robin dropped her forehead against Y/N's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him" Robin growled as she got up, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

~~

Y/N and Robin were tangled together in Y/N's sheets. One place they figured they could escape from Steve. Their clothes were scattered on her bedroom floor.

Robin panted as she moved her hips against Y/N's thigh. Robin's bare cunt easily move against Y/N's skin, the pressure was perfect against Robin's clit. Y/N held Robin's hips in a bruising grip.

"That's it, Roby. Ride my thigh like a good girl" Y/N teased, her lips in a smirk as Robin shuttered at the nickname. Robin smashed her hands on the headboard, right above Y/N's head.

Robin rode her thigh desperately, chasing the burning orgasm she needed for weeks. Her skin was drenched in sweat and her thighs began to shake.

Y/N's phone by her bed began to ring, but both girls ignored it. Y/N kept her focus on sucking marks on Robin's skin, and Robin could only hear her breathing pick up as she got closer to her orgasm.

The phone rang again, Y/N picked it up and slammed it down right away, ending the noise.

"Gonna" Robin choked out

"That's it, cu-"

"RINGGGG"

Robin huffed and kept her hips moving as she reached for Y/N's phone. She chucked the whole thing to the floor, yanking the cord out of the wall.

Both girls sighed with relief as no more sound distracted them. Robin thrashed on Y/N's thigh, her cum soaking Y/N's skin as Robin cried out. Robin rode out her orgasm, her hips jolting as the pleasure became painful.

Robin shivered at the sensitivity on her clit when Y/N gently pushed her off. She pushed Robin on her back and moved between her legs, Robin shuddered as Y/N's tongue flattened in between her folds, licking up all the cum that ran down Robin's cunt.

Y/N jumped as a loud bang landed on her front door, over and over. She quickly threw on a robe and walked to her window.

"It's Harrigton" Y/N laughed

"He seriously needs to get a girlfriend," Robin said as she rolled her eyes.

[dreamweave01]

So.... your AU is putting me through so many thoughts rn, so few questions. You might've answered some already, but--

What was the order of mikey pulling the bros in? Like was it all at once, or one at a time?

Were the bros' reactions mainly positive when they figured out what was going on, or mostly negative bc they would be essentially abandoning the world they lived in?

What was splinter/Draxum's/Big Mama's reactions to having three random turtles show up like this? Like they've never met these turtles before, so were they like: "yes yes adoption papers were submitted yesterday" or were they more hesitant?

For Mikey's world, was the footclan taken down yet or are they working in the background still?

Anyways I am looking 👀

I haven't really figured out the exact order, but I do know that it was all in one trip. Mikey set off on his mission to rescue his brothers (without telling his parents of course, because who tells their parents these kinds of things?) and came back home with all three.

The moment he discovered them, he couldn't just leave them. With how their timelines were, there was a good chance that if he waited, there wouldn't be any brothers left to save.

Which kind of goes into the next question. Leo, Raph, and Donnie didn't have anything left. No friends, no home, no family. So it wasn't like they were against leaving.

Leonardo for instance was more than willing to jump into this new life. A second chance? He was going to take it, no questions asked.

Raphael was only hesitant because he was scared to hurt his family again. Mikey had to reassure him multiple times that he wouldn't lose control again.

Donatello on the other hand immediately came to the conclusion that it was a trick, some set up so that people could use him again, exploiting his greatest weakness: the family he had lost. But a part of him wanted to believe it, (that and the only other alternative was to let the Purple Dragons kill him,) so he went along with it against his better judgement.

The three parents were. . . well, let's just say, they weren't exactly expecting to have three new sons that day. It was a lot to take in all at once. Splinter and Draxum (especially Draxum) weren't exactly thrilled that Mikey had gone on this big quest without telling anyone. What if something had gone wrong? What if he had overextended his ninpo again? What if he had gotten stuck in one of these other timelines?

Big Mama had worried just as much as the dads, but she was more focused over the new faces Mikey had brought home. She's worked with a lot of different people over the years, and she knew a troubled soul when she saw one (or three in this case.) And when Michelangelo told the parents these new turtles were his brothers? Something Draxum had immediately assumed, knowing Mikey.

Big Mama vowed to herself in that moment that she would make sure those boys would never have to go through the hell they endured ever again.

As for the Foot clan, Mikey (with Cassandra's help) showed them a better path than the one they were on. Nowadays, they own a very lovely chain of shoe stores and coffee shops. Their cupcakes especially have become quite popular in New York City.

[kaliforniahigh]

Decided to write another installment to this thingy I wrote yesterday. I'm actually thinking of making Noah x Brat!Reader kind of a thing? I don't know, I'll see where this goes.

Warnings: smut, pool activities, fem. orgasm denial, fem. edging, fingering, Noah is a little mean and reader is a brat as usual.

Currently, Noah had you pressed to the wall of the pool with his whole body. You both had rented an Airbnb to spend a few days relaxing during the summer.

No thoughts of touring, writing or making music. Just you and Noah and the blazing hot sun hitting your skin and cocktails by the pool. But it seemed like Noah had just figured out a new game for you to play.

"I don't want you to make a sound, you hear me?", he told you, face close to your ear, as he hitched one of your legs over his waist and pressed himself even closer to you.

"Ok", you answered in a whisper, nodding your head to show him you understood.

"You learned last time that only good girls get what they want, right?", he brought his wet hand to brush over your cheek as he gave you a lingering kiss on your lip.

"I'll be a good girl", you reassured him, batting your wet eyelashes at him, and he smiled at how compliant you were for him.

"Good", he gave you another peck on the lips. "Now spread those pretty legs for me, baby"

You moved the leg that wasn't over his hip to the side, giving him more space to slide his hand down and cup your cunt over your bikini bottom.

You held back a heavy sigh that threatened to scape from your lips, as he kept teasing you, before he slipped the flimsy fabric to the side, and used a finger to feel the wetness collecting at your entrance. He could feel how wet you were for him, even underwater.

He wasted no time before slipping one long finger inside of you, curling the digit up in a come-hither motion. This time, you couldn't muffle the whimper that erupted from the back of your throat as he reached that spot inside you. You clamped your hand over your mouth and hoped he didn't hear it.

But, he was already pulling his hand away and shaking his head, tutting at you in disapproval.

"No", you whined at the loss of contact. "Please, keep going", you begged, breathless.

"I told you to be quiet, and you weren't"

"I promise I'll be quiet. Please? I just want you to touch me again"

"If you don't follow my instructions, I'll leave you here, desperate and usatisfied"

He grabbed your other leg with a little more force and hooked it on his waist as well, you core pressing on his stomach. You looked at him, waiting for him to touch you again, but he didn't.

"C'mon, baby. Rub yourself on me", he instructed, grabbing the laces on both sides of your bikini and untying them, leaving your bottom half naked before him.

You started with small movements, grinding your pussy up and down on his toned stomach. Before long, he was grabbing your ass cheeks, helping you along the way and speeding up your movements.

He could feel your wetness coating his skin, and had to focus really hard on not busting right then and there.

"You wanna cum, baby?", he asked you, tone condescending.

You nodded your head yes in answer, even though you already knew he was not gonna let you. Not yet, at least.

"Keep rubbing this pretty cunt on me while I think about it"

He reached down, halting your movements for a few seconds so he could slip his finger back inside.

"Keep going", he tapped your legs twice and you resumed your movements over him.

The feeling of his finger and the way his palm was rubbing your clit so perfectly had you on edge in no time. You almost lost it when his other hand reached to pinch your nipple in between his fingers. Lost in your pleasure, you didn't even register the moan leaving your lips until he stopped altogether.

Before he could disentangle from you, you tightened you legs on his hips, trying to keep him in place.

"No, no, no. Please", you pawed at him, grabbing his shoulders. But he was already slipping away from you, swimming to the other side of the pool. "Noah, please", you begged, tears gathering on your waterline as your body shook a little from the denial.

He didn't answer you, but he watched the way your legs squeezed together under the water, trying to feel just a sliver of the pleasure from just a few seconds ago.

Before he could say something, probably a snarky remark, you were pulling youself up to sit on the edge of the pool, spreading your legs open as you looked at him dead in the eye.

Your right hand traveled lower over your abdomen, and you started to rub slow circles over your clit. He swam his way over to you and moved your hand away with a sharp slap.

"You don't get to make yourself cum", he said, as he dipped his hand under the pool to grab your bikini bottom. Gathering both of your wrists in one hand, he tied them together behind your back with the wet fabric, making sure it was tight.

"Now, you're going to wait until I'm feeling nice enough", he patted your leg twice before swimming away from you once again.

With that, he left you sitting there, with your hands tied behind your back, completely unsatisfied.

Tag List: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @montgomery-929496 @stardustsirenmelody @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @w0manof-flesh44 @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @turn-your-life-into-folklore @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @haehihello @anameunmusical @blade-dressed-in-red @jilliemiw86 @vinyardmauro @ohheykayyyxo @chey-h @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens

If you haven't been tagged, it's because you don't have your age mentioned on your blog!

[daenysx]

Avoid this If I'm not doing this right. But your writing is phenomenal and I wanna read more of it. This is a request for modern Aemond Targaryen scenario. I'm imagining something like, he is in a fling type of thing with someone, nothing serious. But it suddenly hits him, he comes to realization. (I hope this makes sense 🥹)

thank you so much, angel, i hope i got this right <33333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, fluff

"-so basically we're supposed to edit all the writings, it's actually fun, but it takes a few hours to finish one of them. My eyes are hurting, I have to remember taking my glasses with me tomorrow."

In Aemond's defense, he's listening. Really, he's focused on every detail of your first day on the editorial board of a school paper. It's just- hard to keep himself from smiling as he's watching you make yourself a huge glass of iced latte by using his espresso machine. You move in his kitchen like it's your own, know the places of glasses by heart.

"Do you want one? I can try to make one without milk, you're probably better at using this machine than me, though."

He finds himself shaking his head. The coffee you make always hits harder. He never thought why, maybe it's the feeling of someone doing something for him. His mouth suddenly tastes weird. It always happens when he gets lost in his head.

You're taking a big sip from your coffee, your face relaxes visibly. Aemond's fascinated by the sight of you loving the drink so much. "I've been waiting for this since that last page. I hope I didn't mess up editing it."

"I'm sure you did fine," he says. He feels like a fool who can't form a sentence using more than five words.

"Are you okay?" you ask, taking another sip. He looks good, he always does. There's an unsettled look in his eyes, though, as if he's trying to figure something out. You've always liked solving his puzzles, watching his big blue eyes and charming smile.

"Yes, I just-" fell in love with you. Want you in my life. In every corner of my apartment, your perfume lingering in my air, your clothes and books invading my space. "I was thinking about something else. Sorry."

"It's okay," you smile. "Can we watch that movie you told me yesterday?"

Aemond nods, you take your coffee with you as you step inside his living room. The couch is soft, he started keeping a fluffy blanket on it after your second time coming here. It's like a piece of you that he likes to keep, sometimes he falls asleep under it thinking about telling you the book he's currently reading.

He doesn't know anything about falling in love, only he's a quick learner and he thinks things come naturally sometimes. It's exciting, discovering what it would be like to love you, he's ready to find out the rest. Settling down on the couch next to you, he helps you with the blanket. You're all comfy in his space and the smell of your hair hits him like a nice wave of affection.

"Can I- can we-" someone punch him in the face so that he can stop mumbling.

You look at him with a pair of curious eyes and he leans in with an instinct.

"I've been waiting," you say, your hand cups his cheek and he can feel the softness.

"Hmm," he tilts his head, your neck adjusted just right for him to reach you. You close your eyes, your elbow leaning on the couch. This close, Aemond's cologne is distinctive and you like how it feels familiar. When his lips touch yours for the first time, it's both warm and safe. It feels right.

The kiss doesn't last long, Aemond brushes his lips on your chin when he pulls himself back. Your hand finds his, his long fingers fit right in your own. It's a good way to spend the evening, he thinks. He can even confess how he feels if he kisses you one more time.

starry girl sleepover ☆

[engie-ivy]

(December time! Festive fics! Trigger warning: mentions of assault, but nothing graphic. Happy ending though🙂)

1257 words.

When his friends are forced to spend Christmas without Sirius, all they can do is hope for a Christmas miracle.

Until You're Home Again

It’s Gonna Be a Cold Cold Christmas - Dana Scallon

“Hello love,” Remus leans over and kisses Sirius’ cheek. “It's cold outside. You would be freezing, stubbornly insisting on still wearing that leather jacket of yours.”

He takes off his coat and hangs it over the chair, rubbing his hands together to get some warmth in them. Before he sits down, he trails his fingers gently across Sirius’ cheek.

“Oh, before I forget.” He rummages through his coat pocket. “Mary baked you a batch of your favourite cookies. I'll just put them here beside you, so you can eat them when… when you can, okay, love?” His hand trembles slightly as he places the box on Sirius’ bedside table.

“Christmas is coming up soon, you know? I haven't put up the tree this year.” He chuckles. “I can just imagine how you would scold me for my lack of Christmas cheer, wouldn't you, love?”

The only response he gets is the steady beep of the machine.

Lily slides into the chair across from Remus and passes over a hot chocolate. “How was he today?”

Remus shrugs, fiddling with the lid of his cup. “The same, I guess. At least it's not worse, but it's not… better either.”

Lily sighs. “I'm sorry. And any news on the upcoming trial?”

“Our lawyer has suggested postponing,” Remus replies, still staring at his cup. “She says that if we wait, maybe we can charge them with murder instead of attempted murder or aggravated assault.” He swallows. “And I want them to get the maximum sentence, of course I do, but…” He looks up and meets Lily's eyes. “I don't want to lose him. I can't… Oh god, I can't lose him, Lily.” His voice breaks towards the end.

A determined look appears on Lily's face. “She's a lawyer, not a doctor! Whatever she has to say about Sirius waking up or not doesn't matter!”

Remus averts his eyes again. “The doctors aren't giving me much hope either. All they're saying is that they had hoped Sirius would've shown more signs of consciousness by now.”

Lily reaches over and squeezes Remus’ hand. “You should come over to our place after visiting hours tomorrow. It's Christmas Day, and we're all getting together.”

“I don't know, Lils,” Remus replies. “I'm not really in the mood for a celebration.”

“Remus John Lupin,” Lily says sternly. “If you think that we're all merrily going to be singing Christmas carols around the Christmas tree while Sirius is in the hospital in such a state you are sorely mistaken!” She lowers her voice. “We're all going to be miserable. We just figured we could be miserable together.”

“I'm sorry, Lily,” Remus says. “Of course you're not…” He shakes his head. “I'm sorry, and I'd love to come over tomorrow.”

Lily smiles at him. “And who knows, maybe we'll get a Christmas miracle.”

1 year later

“Oi! Those cookies are for tonight!” Mary snatches the box away.

“Awww, come on, Mary,” Sirius pouts. “Last year I wasn't able to eat any. I have to make up for lost time.”

“Sirius Orion Black. Are you using what happened to you as a way to get cookies?”

“It depends,” Sirius says. “Is it working?”

“Dammit, yes, it is.” Mary hands him back the box.

James and Lily come out of the kitchen, just as Marlene and Dorcas arrive. “Dinner is in the oven,” James says. “And should be ready within half an hour.”

“Marls, look!” Sirius says, as Marlene kisses his cheek to greet him. He lifts up his right arm almost over his head. “I almost have full range of motion back in my arm!”

“That's amazing!” Marlene beams at him. “All your hard work in physical therapy is really paying off!”

“And I went to the supermarket on my own yesterday,” Sirius adds.

“Mate, I'm so proud of you!” James places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as he smiles at him even brighter than Marlene.

Sirius huffs. “You two saving lives in the Emergency Room on a daily basis, acting all proud just because I went to a supermarket.”

“Our jobs have nothing to do with how hard you've been working in exposure therapy,” James says sternly. “What we do for a living doesn't take anything away from your hard-earned progress.”

“Yes,” Marlene agrees. “You're actually facing your fears, which is the most difficult thing anyone can do.”

“And he's not the only one,” Lily whispers, looking at Remus.

Remus bites his lip, because she isn't wrong. Remus has been having… not the easiest time himself.

Sirius needs to learn by exposure that it's safe for him to go outside on his own and he doesn't have to be afraid, and it won't be at all helpful for his progress if his boyfriend would prefer to lock him up inside a room where nothing bad can ever happen to him ever again. Sirius is working very hard in exposure therapy, and the last thing Remus wants is to make it more difficult for him by adding his own worries. Just like Sirius, Remus needs to learn nothing bad is going to happen when Sirius goes out on his own.

But then again, Remus didn't think anything bad was going to happen when Sirius went out for a run that one morning.

“This looks wonderful, James,” Fabian and Gideon say in unison, looking at the table covered with food.

Lily nudges James. “Make a toast, honey.”

Mary looks around the room threateningly, making Peter cower. “My make-up is on point today, so no one dare make me cry.”

James chuckles. “I'll keep it short then. Here's to Christmas Eve all together as it should be!”

Everyone holds up their glasses. “To Christmas Eve all together!”

But before they can all start to eat, Remus scrapes his throat and gets to his feet. “I actually have something to say as well.”

“I'm warning you, Lupin…” Mary says with a glare.

“Last year, I thought I was never going to spend Christmas with you ever again,” Remus speaks, turning to Sirius, who is, of course, sitting next to him. “And that made me realize I never want to spend Christmas without you ever again. Apparently, never leaving you out of my sight for a single moment is considered ‘unhealthy’ according to my therapist. So, since I can't glue myself to your side all day, at least I want to come home to you at the end of the day. Always.” Remus drops down to one knee and pulls out a square box from his inner pocket. He flips it open, displaying an elegant, silver ring. “Sirius Orion Black. Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god.” Sirius presses his hands to his mouth as tears well up in his eyes. “Rem…Really? I mean, are you sure?” He takes one of Remus’ hands in his own, the tears now streaming down his face. “I know I like to show how much better I'm doing, but the truth is, I'm still such a mess. Gods, Rem, I can barely go outside by myself! Are you sure you want to be dealing with all of that?”

“One hundred percent,” Remus replies instantly, though his voice is a little choked by the emotions. “Everything. Forever.”

Sirius searches Remus’ eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he then says. “Yes. Please, yes.” He lets himself fall forward into Remus’ arms.

“Damn you, Remus Lupin,” Mary sobs, mascara streaks running down her cheeks.

“Sorry,” Remus says, but he actually isn't sorry at all. Not with his Christmas miracle in his arms.

[justpeaxchy]

Can I request a short fic for Hiccup x fem!reader where they're just good friends, sharing a love for books?

Thank you!

'Oh, Simple Thing.'

A/n: AHH thank you so much for the request! I was actually gonna try and write something with a platonic relationship kind of thing, so you came in at a perfect time lol!

Warnings (?): none!

Hiccup x !fem! Reader (platonic)

Books, books, and more books. And Hiccup also. The two things that can help relieve you from your daily responsibilities.

'C'mon, c'mon, where is it..!?'

Your hands desperately searched through the wooden shelves of your hut, groaning in annoyance every time you couldn't find the one thing you've been earnestly desiring to have for the last ten minutes. It was as though you checked all the cracks in your home to find the treasured object, your frustration increasing with each failed attempt. Out of all the days when you needed it the most, it wasn't there.

"It's gotta be in here somewhere..!" You muttered, throwing your arms out in exasperation. You had one with you almost all the time, so it peeved you that it was nowhere to be seen. 'Think, think, think...where did I have it last..?' Trying to figure out where it may have gone, your feet strode over to the notepad you had made, hastily opening it to check one more time if it was hidden somewhere inside the pages. Again, no luck.

'You've got to be kidding me..'

Stomping over to the desk close by, you practically threw the notepad across it with an irked furrow of your brows. Everything was going fine today, all until this specific item couldn't be located. "Where are you, you little--"

A knock on the door interrupted your complaints, forcing you to trudge over to it with a sigh. "Yeah, what is it?" You grumbled, opening the door with a bored expression. It lightened up a bit at the sight of your best friend, bringing your infuriated guard down. "Hiccup?" Your eyes glanced at the small stack of books he struggled to hold in his arms, not yet noticing something else in his hands. "..Uh, what're you doing..?"

"Hey!" He staggered, "I wanted to bring you these!" He lifted his face above the pile, a genial smile tracing his lips. "It's some extra books my dad said you could borrow for a bit..and I know you've been wanting to read some new ones, so I got these for you."

Briefly skimming over the heaps of the leather coverings that hid each page within them, you didn't completely notice Hiccup almost stumbling to stand straight. "What's it about..?"

He carefully balanced himself again, silently hoping you would lend a hand so he wouldn't be at risk of falling over. "Oh, y'know, the history of Berk, some tall-tale stories...all that good stuff.." He knew you were one to actually like reading those subjects, not fully understanding why you wanted to study on the past of Berk...but everyone had their different tastes, he supposed. His was mostly about dragons after all.

"Oh, cool.." You mumbled, finally seeing a small object in his overcrowded hands. "Wait...is that...?" Your eyes slowly began to widen, heart being filled with joy and relief at the sight of the one thing you've been pining after this whole time. It was excellent, it was splendid, it was practically radiating with light as your mouth gaped. It was...

"My pencil!"

Hiccup blinked in confusion for a moment, only to nod at your words once he grasped what you meant. "Oh, yeah. You forgot that you gave it to me when we went to map out the island yesterday with Astrid--"

He didn't get to finish as you abruptly leaned forward and quickly snatched the cherished pencil, leaving him to yelp as he tried to prevent himself from collapsing. "Hey! Watch it--"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I've been searching for this for so long!" You brought the charcoaled piece of hewn wood up to your cheek, ‘hugging’ it as though it were a long-lost family member.

Laughing nervously, Hiccup pleadingly stared at you for help. "Yup..! Now, why don't you--"

"Okay, thanks! Bye!" You jokingly moved to shut the door on him, snickering as he hurriedly reeled inside before you could. You firmly put an arm out in front of him so he wouldn't totter down on the floor, stopping a few books from falling. "Geez, you're always tripping in one way or another.."

"And who's fault is that?" He retorted, a fake wearisome expression on his face.

Shrugging, you grabbed a couple of books from him, your whimsical smile not fading away while you did so. "Oh yeah, my bad."

The future Chief sighed, faintly shaking his head. "Why were you so desperate for it anyways?"

The two of you steadily walked towards the desk in the room, your tone of voice suddenly doused in excitement; the usual lighthearted attitude. "Because! I needed it so I could write on some new information I discovered about the Woolly Howl!" Carefully setting the books down once close enough, you continued: "Did you know that they can withstand an entire blizzard? I mean, how awesome is that?"

Hiccup lifted his chin, pretending to be in deep thought before he shrugged. "Yeah, I did actually." He recoiled as you pinched his hand, staring at you as if you'd grown another arm. "What was that for!?"

"For being too smart."

He briefly waved his arms as he stuttered for a response. "W..what? Is it a crime to already know something you didn't?"

Chuckling, you put your witty attitude away and patted his shoulder. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Thank you for bringing me these amazing books-" You gestured at them as you finished: "..And thank you for giving my pencil back!" Without another minute wasted, you swiftly grabbed your notepad and flipped to an available blank page. You were about to write the information you had just obtained about the Woolly Howl, but he interrupted you with a clear of his throat.

Glancing over at him, you questioningly raised your brows. "Yes? What is it?" The amusement that came when he merely tapped the sides of his legs only lasted for a couple of seconds before you paused what you were originally going to do. "C'mon, spit it out."

"Well, I just.." He pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. "So...you're not going to read what I gave you..?" Hiccup muttered, pointing to the books like you couldn't see them.

"...Right now?"

"Yes."

You slowly put your notepad down, staring at him thoroughly to figure out what he was trying to do. "And what's got you so desperate for me to do that?" You reflected his earlier words back to him, watching as he instantly grasped a specific book in his hands, the leather showing signs of old age.

"There's this particular one I, uh, wanted to..y'know, see if we could study.." He held it up to his face, making only his eyes more visible.

You internally groaned, already predicting what it might be. "...Let me guess, it's about--"

"Dragons.." You both said, although your voice was more dragged out than his.

Sighing, your head slightly tilted at him. You loved books, but the more you were stuck on just one certain topic, it got boring quite fast. "Look, you know I enjoy reading...but every time we've been meeting up this past week, it feels like the only thing we've been getting into was dragons--"

"But you were gonna write some new information on the Woolly Howl! Y'know, a dragon?" Hiccup brought the book down so you could fully see him again with a defeated sigh. "...If you really don't want to, it's fine...I guess.." He muttered, a downcast gaze landing on the floor.

Not getting the hint, however, you merely shrugged in agreement. "Okay then."

Your response was seemingly not what he was aiming for. It was evident in the way he briefly threw his arms up with an expression that was no longer so disheartening. "Wow, okay. So that's how it is.." He placed the book down, pulling out a chair to sit at the desk while you stood. "Alright, alright. Enough joking, we can work on your mission of writing any information you want on the Woolly Howl."

He beckoned for you to sit in the other chair, which you unhurriedly did as you tried to conclude if he was truly fine with doing what you were set out to do. Usually, you both read to get your minds off the responsibilities that could so quickly take up a lot of your time; the pressures of growing and actually becoming an adult would sometimes make the two of you scurry off to someplace else. Thankfully, Astrid was there to redirect you both and help you face the reality that life would always be filled with responsibilities which may not entirely be pleasant, but that wouldn't stop you from enjoying yourselves throughout it all.

You viewed Astrid as a sister, someone that you could also easily be around. Her firmness was very much needed and appreciated whenever you started to act a certain way towards that topic, and you wondered how worse your attitude could've gotten if she hadn't been there for you to give you the necessary wakeup call.

Hiccup was the one who would allay you from your anxieties, his personality being the other thing that you needed to balance out your ‘lessons’ from his betrothed. It was the perfect combination of savory and sweet.

Gently pushing your notepad to the side of the table, you leaned your cheek in the palm of your hand, expectantly staring at him for a moment. "Well, are we gonna read that book or what?"

He blinked, putting your words together in the hinges of his mind. "...What..?"

"You heard me. C'mon, let's go, I don't got all day!" You faked a yawn, stretching your arms as you suppressed a grin. You actually did have the rest of the day to yourself, so that statement wasn't fully correct. Not that he would know, of course.

Hiccup didn't fight the smile that was now visible on his face, copying your actions by leaning his cheek in his hand. "Why do I get the feeling that's not true?" He flinched and veered away from you as you tried to pinch him again, chuckling at your failed attempt. "Alright, alright!" He paused, grabbing your attention as he spoke in a more sincere tone of voice. "Thank you, though. Are you sure you want to read right now? I was only kidding...for the most part."

The dramatic roll of your eyes almost made him laugh while you carefully picked up the book he originally had. "Well, if you just keep sitting there I might not be so sure..."

Immediately, he nodded and took it from your hold, hastily opening it like he was receiving a gift of some sorts. "I'll remind you of the Woolly Howl once we're done, don't worry!"

---------------

After a while of rambling and debating on what certain dragons were able to do, you both decided that it was time to move on. With a content nod, Hiccup closed the book and casually tilted back slightly in his seat. "I can only imagine the look on Fishleg's face when he finds out about this.."

You rested your head on the table, finally relaxed. "Mhm..." After a moment, you abruptly remembered what your intentions were before he waltzed into your hut, making you straighten your back as you quickly collected together your notepad and beloved pencil. "Hey! Didn't you say you would remind me of what I was gonna write?"

You eagerly flipped to a blank page, waiting for him to say something. All that came was silence, causing you to raise your brows at him, puzzled. "...Well?"

He tapped his chin, appearing to be in thought before shrugging. "Y'know, I think I actually forgot what it was you said about the Woolly Howl..."

"Hiccup!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry-- Ouch!"

It was safe to say that you managed to pinch him, without missing this time.

-------------

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hello! I am the anon who requested the winged!child! Dracule reader, I got so giddy when I saw your reply. And yes the red haired is fine.

Seriously your work is awesome ♡♡

Lost Birds ( Red Haired Pirates x gn!child!Dracule!Reader)

A/N: Guys Finally! After watching the screen for hours it finally hit me and I think I COOKED, also thank you anon l, you’re gonna make me blush. -Yall I fell asleep while writing that this was meant to be posted yesterday 💀

Dividers by @saradika

Yassop sat at the crow’s nest, watching over the ship as usual and looking for any danger to the Red Force; his attention diverted to bustle below him, his crew involved in their usual antics despite the dangers awaiting them upon their arrival.

He glanced at his Captain talking to his first mate; when he first announced they were to head to Marineford, he was surprised, but he never hesitated; he knew what was at stake, how much lives could be lost if this was left alone

His thoughts were quickly interrupted as a sound came from above him; his head shooting up, he promptly took out his weapon and aimed it at an approaching figure, alerting the crew below him

His eyes narrowed as a sound started being heard the closer the figure got

“What is it, Yassop?” Beckman questions from the deck

Yassop stayed silent with his weapons still drawn, his eyes carefully analysing the figure in approaching them,

“We have company,” Yassop finally responded in a calm voice.

“There!” He said shooting towards the figure

“Ah!” Dokucha exclaims quickly, diving down to avoid the shot

“Hey! Mister, that’s rude!” they exclaim, landing on the deck of the ship only to shriek at the sound of a gun being cocked right behind them

Behind them stood Benn Beckman, pointing his weapon at them the rest of the officers not far behind

“Who are you?” He inquired, the usual cigarette resting on his lips, his eyebrows raising as Dokucha turned around, his weapon lowering slightly

“You’re just a kid…wait, you’re…”

“Dokucha?” Asks Shanks, walking closer to the small child kneeling down next to them

“Uncle Shanks? Uncle Shanks!” They laugh, throwing themselves at the man

Shanks laughed, wrapping his arms around the child, who was visibly smaller than him

"It's been a while since I've seen you" he smiled, brushing their hair

“You know them, Cap?” Question Yassop climbing down from his previous spot

“Did you drink too much yassop, or did you forget their face?” Pipes Beckman

Yassop Glances at the kid for a few seconds, taking notice of the wings, quickly realizing that not only were those the source of the noise that had alerted him before but that they were too familiar to him

He turns his head around in a flash as recognition washes in his features

“This is Hawkeyes kid?!”

“Papa?” The kid questions happily hearing their father's nickname

Beckmann sighs at this

“What are you doing here?”

“Umm, Papa went somewhere, and I wanted to fly for a bit; I flew too far and got lost.”

Shanks snickers at their words, standing up and ruffling their hair

“I think your father is heading to the same place we are headed, so you are in luck.”

“You’ll take me to Papa Uncle Shanks?”

“I’ll take you to him, but be warned,” he says to the child, smiling,” It’ll probably be a bit chaotic when we get there.”

“Okay!” they exclaim, their eyes glancing at the man behind him

“Hey! You were the one shooting me!” they accused, flying towards the sniper

Yasopp laughs, watching the child make a dash at them

“I wasn’t aiming at you, it was a warning shot,” the man replies nervously

“I ‘m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Don’t be hard on the poor man, Dokucha; you did take all of us off guard,” laughed Shanks

“Hmph”

“Just don’t fly too far from our ship,” he says, still ruffling their hair

“I don’t want you getting lost again.”

“Okayyy, Uncle Shanks,”

“Is this really Hawkeye’s kid?” Mutters Hongo, looking at the child

“Im Papa’s kid!” The child cheers

Hongo smiles a bit, shaking his head at the sight

“I like your wings,” he tells the child

“Thank you!” They said, spinning around and flapping their wings

“Mmhm!”

“How do you sleep without smacking your wings everywhere?”

Hongo asks with an amused smile

They gasp offended

“I know how to use them! Let me smack you with them!” They said, shooting toward the doctor

“Still as lively as ever,” Shanks laughs, taking hold of them

“Let me at them, Uncle Shanks!”

“No need for that; Hongo’s one of us,” Shanks responds, putting the child down

“Hongo is our doctor, after all.”

They pout at him

Beckmann raises an eyebrow at the child

“Do you wanna cause a fight, little one?”

“They were insulting my flying!”

Beckmann sighs in amusement at the child

“He was just asking you about your wings.”

“Oh”

He smiles and ruffles the kid's hair,

“Just don’t smack the doctor.”

Okay I admit that ending could use some work but.. yeah thats it it needs more work 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Five different perspectives on Nanami Kento.

Tags: Angst, humour, mystery, character study.

Warnings: canon-typical violence.

"I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful‚

The eye of a little god, four-cornered."

~ The Mirror, Sylvia Plath

Yoshinari remembers that day well. Even now, decades later, his team leader's near-panicked expression stands out with harsh clarity in his mind. Yoshinari had just mentioned that he hadn't finished the analysis due that afternoon because he'd been struck down with a bad bout of flu. Whirling on his heel, the team lead had really let fly with his irritation.

"But we had an agreement! You were to complete the analysis the day before yesterday! There'll be no excuse at all for us walking into that meeting unprepared!"

"But sir ... I had a lot to catch up on that evening. And I - "

"I'm done with this conversation! Come up with something, or explain to the chief why you couldn't finish your basic tasks on time."

Left standing in the empty hallway, Yoshinari had let frustration, anger, self-pity and helplessness wash over him, bitter as a brackish tide. Nobody ever listened to him. Nobody ever understood how the demands of this job couldn't be humanly met unless he practically lived at the office. Nobody cared what his state of health was. Nobody -

"Are you all right?"

Hastily wiping off the corner of his eye, he turned to see none other than Nanami Kento standing in the doorway leading from the hallway to the main office floor. Nanami, whose reports were always turned in on time. Nanami, whose suits were never rumpled, whose clients never complain, whose presentations were always meticulous, who never spilled a drop or wasted a crumb when he ate -

Tamping down the rising envy and resentment for the tall man standing before him, Yoshinari sighed and embraced the inevitable. It isn't Nanami's fault. Nanami is simply doing the job, like the rest of them. He just happened to be a lot more competent at it than most. 

"I'm a bit ... under the weather, that's all. There's a meeting this afternoon. I won't be prepared because I haven't had time to get the quarterly analysis done."

Nanami watched him in silence. Yoshinari continued, chest feeling slightly less heavy as he vented to his quiet companion.

"I just wish ... that we were given more value, you know? We're not robots. We're people. And sometimes, we ... I can't get all my tasks done. I just wanted ... some understanding. That's all."

Yoshinari realized just how petulant he sounded the more he spoke. His voice trailed off, and he avoided the other man's gaze. What must Nanami think of someone like him? Did he pity him? Was he annoyed by him and his complaining? Was he indifferent, like everyone else? It was hard to tell.

Nanami never lost his composure, never expressed strong emotion, never seemed anything other than cool and detached. He must think that someone like Yoshinari was worthy of pity and contempt. Nothing more.

Without waiting for Nanami's reply, Yoshinari turned and made his way to the elevators, trying to focus on the client briefing lined up (and not the humiliation and reprimands he'd have to endure later.)

The humiliation never came, though. Walking into the meeting that afternoon, Yoshinari was met with the huffy, slightly startled demeanor of the team leader when he was complimented on his 'sterling work', handed a steaming cup of coffee and patted on the back. He sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze, mind still struggling to grapple with what had occurred.

When he got a chance, he snuck a look at the analysis that supposedly came from him. There, in the phrasing, the layout, the orderly sequences of figures and the in-depth breakdown of each element, he recognises the hand of Nanami Kento.

When the meeting was over, he tried to find Nanami, to thank him for that unexpected favour. A part of him was beginning to take the assistance with a pinch of salt; what did Nanami expect in return for this?

When he eventually spied Nanami, he paused, the report crumpling slightly in his hand. Coat draped over his chair, tie cast over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up and chair reclining, Nanami's hollowed eyes and sharply-defined cheekbones were covered with a white handkerchief, the marks of exhaustion clear in his bearing.

Many years later, watching his grandchildren chase each other around the darkened trunk of a plum tree, a soft, secret smile finds its home on Yoshinari's face as he remembers that day. He glances up at the delicate blossoms, pushing their heads insistently into the fresh bite of a new spring day and wonders if Nanami ever had grandchildren of his own.

Warmth. Kinship. Command.

When Master calls me out, I recognise the tug and relentless pull into another place. This place. This world of scent and colour and sound, where I am given form.

My Master's hands smell of paper, freshly cut apples and grass. They are firm and familiar as their fingers run through my fur. Sometimes, Master brings us out of the other place without urgency, simply to keep us at his side.

Megumi.

That is my Master's given name. He is dark in spirit, light of foot, and his mouth seldom curves, like the other humans. But when we are all together, pack, bodies curled up and sharing warmth, Master's eyes are like a distant lamp, flickering softly.

The white-veined one names my Master as Megumi. He is the one with power like a great summer storm, sweeping with acrid sharpness across the senses and scorching the unseen world in his wake. His hair is white too, his spirit leaping from one focus to the next, lightning and laughter.

The white-veined one is trustworthy. He is pack, but even though Master trusts him completely, he makes others nervous.

And then, there is the Blademaster. This one is almost familiar. He is like Master in many ways. He smells of good food, old leather and the sharp tang of polished metal. His power is an underground river, swift and subtle, rising to a well-controlled roar when he calls upon it.

The Blademaster avoids pack. He likes to sit alone on the benches at sunset, sometimes, with his food in an oval box at his side. He stares a lot into the sky. Only he knows what he sees there.

The sky doesn't hold much interest for me, but the smells from the Blademaster's box always call for attention. He has meat in there. And cheese. Sometimes, if I press my nose into his hand, he shares his food. It is good food. It tastes better when he offers it out of his own palm.

The Blademaster's hand is bigger, rougher around the fingers than Master's. He is an experienced warrior, and he has been in many fights. The scent of it is on him, in ways that cannot be disguised. He carries the smell of old wounds, of battles that etched away at the parts of him than leave no visible scars. 

Sometimes, his pain is great. Those times, he needs pack, even if he doesn't know it. I find him, at his bench. Even though he has no food, I sit with him. His fingers in my fur are different, but warm, like Master's.

We watch the sky together.

It's the bustle of the lunch rush that brings him suddenly into her mind; tall, broad-shouldered, imposing in his dark, pinstripe suit. She's seen many, many salarymen enter her establishment over the years, but none quite like him.

He'd seemed hard, humourless, exacting, a man of substance and character, whittled away bit by bit by the hundred inconveniences and troubles of everyday life. Her attempts to cheer him up always fell flat. Her jokes landed like stale bread on a food critic's plate.

"Hey, Nanami! Good to see you! Decided to loaf around on your lunch break again?"

"How am I loafing?"

"Ah, that was just a pun. You know. Because you come here to buy sandwiches."

"Do you charge extra for the puns? Because I'm not paying for that."

"Wow. So cold ... "

And on another occasion:

"Hey Nanami! Knock knock."

" ... "

"You're supposed to say 'who's there?'"

"Who's there."

"As a question, not a statement!"

"Does it matter?"

"Fine. It's doughnut."

"Doughnut who?"

"Dough nut enter the shop without checking out the specials!"

"Please just give me the sandwich."

Ah, those were good times. Maybe he did appreciate her silly attempts at humour on some level. She'd never know.

Sometimes, she wonders if she shouldn't have asked him for help. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut about that pesky stiffness and pain in her shoulder joint. There was no way she could have known what would happen next.

She recalls, with perfect clarity, the sudden change in his demeanour. The subtle straightening of his posture, the focus of that intense honey-brown stare, the way he'd looked at and past her, as if glancing through some secret window into an unknown she could never fathom. And then, he'd raised his arm, swung it in that swift, decisive motion, and her pain disappeared in a matter of seconds.

She still wonders how exactly he'd accomplished that. Was he a spiritual healer of some kind? She couldn't think of an occupation less suited to someone like him. All the same, she was thankful. She'd even packed a free almond croissant and coffee with his sandwich the next day, kept aside for the lunch rush.

Except, he'd never shown up. Not that day, or the next, or the day after that. Nanami simply disappeared from the normal routine of his life altogether.

Of course, she made some enqueries. She was somewhat concerned, considering how sudden his absence had been. What if he'd overworked himself enough to end up in hospital? It wasn't unheard of.

His work colleagues, some of whom also frequented the bakery, told her that he'd suddenly up and left. Handed in his resignation and promptly disappeared.

She'd never heard from him, ever again. It wasn't that she was upset or offended. Customers changed their whims daily. But with him ... something about it concerned her. What would prompt a creature of habit, like Nanami, to suddenly change his routine? There was probably a perfectly sound explanation for it, but it worried her all the same.

After all these years, even now, as manager of her own small dessert shop, not far from the original bakery she'd served at, she'd never taken the casse-croûte off the menu.

It would remain there, for the day he might come through the door once again, and she'd say it, just like she'd rehearsed in her mind so many times. 

"Welcome back, Nanami. The usual?"

Pain. This is all that she thinks, all that she feels. It is all-consuming. It isn't like the time she broke her finger after a particularly bad fall when she was ten years old. Not even like the wound left when her mother died; gaping, raw around the edges, on display for all that looked her way.

This pain was, somehow, even worse than that. Pain that twisted and tore through the fabric of her, agony piled on agony, neverending. It stretched beyond her, into a night of unknown horrors that she had no means of comprehending.

Something was very, very wrong with her body. This much she could tell, even as she wove in and out of consciousness. The sense of change to her own form, of being maimed in some fundamental sense, was so strong that she wondered how she was still alive.

His hands. So cold. Pain beyond imagining. She doesn't want to enter that forbidden entryway in her thoughts. Someone did this to her. Someone made her helpless, controlled her. Turned her into this grotesque travesty of a living thing. She should feel furious, that this had been done to her. But she doesn't have the capacity for anything but pleading, begging for a swift release from this torment.

Something is shifting around her now. She cannot even brace for the agony, because there are no known muscles for her to do so. Her body feels like a shapeless, amorphous mass that changes according to the unknown puppeteer's will.

Now, she feels the brush of fetid air on her flesh, the dank, mossy wall of some subterranean feature, a dizzying sense of being propelled at high speed through a narrow space.

Someone is moving alongside her, dodging, weaving. Not the puppeteer. Another. Their movements are swift, strong, filled with a measured grace that dances around her striking, flailing limbs (if they can still be called such) with dexterity. She tries to fight back against the overpowering will, to stop any harm coming to that person. It is futile.

Another shift, her body stretched in another direction. And - oh! Air! Damp and rank in scent, something like a sewer, but never more welcome. Her senses had been cloaked, due to the current nature of her body, but now, she was aware of eyes, ears, nose, a budding mouth that opened in a soundless cry for help.

He heard her.

He was standing over her, feet braced on her alien form. A man in dark glasses and a suit, a strangely patterned sword at his side. The sensation of the strangely blunt blade cleaving her flesh as she hurtles at him is weighted, some kind of energy behind it.

He can cause damage to her in this form! He can ...

But her mouth doesn't work the way it's supposed to. She can't beg him, can't plead with him to end this abysmal existence that only serves as torture. The terror, anger, frustration and hopelessness have no channel by which to reach the outside world any longer.

No! Please! Help me!

Wrung from dregs of her despair, a single tear forms at the corner of her existing eye, rolling down the distended, distorted skin.

Is this it? Is this all she can summon?

But he sees it. His hand is reaching down, towards where she lies, helpless beneath his feet, helpless to the whim of another. His thumb is warm, so warm, as he strokes beneath her eye, dashing away the trace of the tear.

In the moments that follow, before her consciousness finally descends into blessed, blessed darkness, she memorizes the feel of that touch, the last thing on this earthly plane that she'll ever know.

For all her suffering, let it never be said that she hasn't known true kindness.

Gojo and Namamin. Side by side, they're day and night. Yuuji can see that, and often delights in it. He thinks about it now, as he brushes his teeth, one hand carding absently through the tangles in his hair.

Gojo operated on a certain wavelength Yuuji had been attuned to since the very beginning. Nanamin, less so.

When Yuuji really thinks about it, it reminds him somewhat of the recipes his grandfather taught him. Gramps's house was one run on self-sufficiency. There was never an excuse for slacking off.

Gojo was like the spicy miso ramen he'd learned to make, the one with the specially crafted chilli oil and the perfect ramen egg for topping. A wash of heat, scorching the tongue and throat, a burst of flavour that somehow lingered long after it had rushed past your teeth like a flashflood. It entertained, it sustained, it left you feeling warm and energized.

Nanamin was like bread.

Now, Yuuji wasn't crazy about bread. He was more of a rice-bowl kinda guy. But the baking of bread was something he'd never quite managed to get the hang of, to begin with. His grandfather eyeballed ingredients, kneaded with rapid, dexterous fists, added an extra pinch of salt here, or a splash of milk there, depending on the type and texture of bread he wanted. It was as if Gramps could envision an end product that Yuuji had no concept of at all.

Namamin had been just as difficult to gauge in the mixing bowl of Yuuji's experience. Practical, rule-following, collected and proper. Spontaneity could take a hike, as far as Nanamin was concerned. Not the kind of man to pretend to be dead and then hop out of a box when you least expect it.

Ha. Anyway.

Bread. That's the analogy he was going with, and the one he was finding increasingly appropriate.

Pulling on his uniform jacket, Yuuji felt the familiar tug and rumble of hunger ascend from his stomach. He tied the laces on his signature red sneakers and grabbed his backpack, heading for the Tech cafeteria for breakfast.

Thinking over it further, bread was ... a staple. It was not to everyone's taste. It was simple, filling, a great companion piece for more flavourful ingredients. And hellishly difficult to bake correctly. For Yuuji, at least.

Yeah. Bread. It was a good comparison.

Turning the corner, Yuuji nearly ran right into the current occupant of his thoughts.

"Ah ... Nanamin! You're here early today!"

"Good morning, Yuuji. Please be careful. I have a cup of hot coffee here."

Falling into step beside the stoic sorcerer (uninvited) Yuuji decided to share some of his thoughts, an uncharacteristically serious expression adorning his face.

"Nanamin, there's something I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If I had to compare you to a food, it'd be bread."

A silence meets this statement. Nanami takes a sip of his coffee. Undeterred, Yuuji continues.

"Like, I love a good katsudon, but when it's midnight and I've been training hard, and I wake up all tired and my body's all sore ... I just go make a sandwich, ya know? Even when Gramps was in hospital and I used to get back from school, and oh, yeah, I sometimes forgot to buy groceries ... there was still bread. Just a loaf, there on the counter. And it didn't matter if there were no other ingredients to cook with, or anything, because you can't go wrong with a fried egg on some fresh, crispy toast. Ahh, yeah. The best."

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

"Itadori ... is this your way of informing me that you find me reliable?"

"Huh? Oh ... I mean, yeah. But that's not all."

"It isn't?"

"Nah. 'Cos I baked bread with my Gramps, see? And it was hard to get right. But I did, at some point. And it felt ... great. And I never got it wrong again. And Gramps is gone now, I know. But when I miss him, kinda, baking bread helps me remember what it was like having him around."

Having said his piece, Yuuji folded his arms behind his head, marching peaceably alongside Nanami, lightly humming the theme song to the latest show he'd been watching. Nanami was now looking down, into his coffee. He didn't take another sip. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than usual.

"I like sandwiches. Trying different fillings is something of a hobby of mine."

Yuuji nods, a light grin forming on his face.

"I can tell."

"Having said that ... I'm partial to fried chicken and beer on a Tuesday afternoon. It ... reminds me of when I was younger."

"Whoa. For real?"

"Yes."

"But Nanamin ... isn't fried chicken and beer the kind of thing you share with others?"

"It is."

"Hmmm."

Yuuji appears to give this some serious thought, before slapping his fist into his palm as an epiphany strikes.

"But wait! Let's get it together next time! I won't drink the beer, don't worry. I can get a soda or something."

"What - "

"And we can order the MegaBox deal that also comes with a medium pizza and cheese croquettes!"

"Yuuji - "

"Oooh, I'm so excited! I wonder what their pizza base is like? But hey, Nanamin, I've gotta run ahead. Maki-senpai's training with me today and she'll kick my ass if I'm late. See ya on Tuesday!"

All thoughts of bread firmly shelved for the present, Yuuji trotted further up the corridor and through the sliding doors of the cafeteria, pausing to wave at Nanami as he left his line of vision.

Yuuji doesn't get to see the small smile that temporarily eases the harsh lines of the sorcerer's face. It is fleeting, gentle, an echo of a smile he'd worn for another, long ago.

Dividers by: @sister-lucifer

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Maybe

Part 1 (coffees and tips)

Part 2 (somebody I care about)

Civilian turns into the next aisle of their local supermarket. They got milk, eggs, something to eat for tonight…snacks. They need snacks. Some candy would be nice. Oh, no, popcorn. Yes, popcorn to eat with a movie. Tonight is going to be a good night. Their shift went well and they got a ton of tips, their toast didn't burn this morning and they haven't lost a single thing. Today was a good day. Only, Villain hadn't passed by the shop today, or yesterday, or the day before that. Maybe the fight with Superhero scared them off a bit? The coffeeshop is supposed to be a safe place for villains and a superhero that just bursts in is kind of contradicting. They really hope they can see them tomorrow, work hasn't been the same.

They turn into the other aisle and see a surprising figure ahead. They are dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie, hair a little messed up but in a cute way and holding a shopping basket. Civilian’s heart makes a little jump. “Hi, Villain. Didn't expect you here,” Civilian says excitedly. Was that too much? Villain looks up a little surprised but then pulls their lips into a smile. “Hi,” they answer while putting a frozen pizza in their basket. “I normaly don’t come here, but I didn't have anything to eat so… deepfreeze chemical shit it is.” Civilian can't help but chuckle. “Don't you have henchmen that can cook for you?” Villain grabs another pizza. “Technically yes, but after three days of planning and scheming we could all use a break.”

“Oh,” Civilian answers, “that's why you didn't show up.” Villain’s smile turned into a smirk. “What? Missed me?” they ask stepping forward. “Maybe,” Civilian answers, not backing away. Villain hums in agreement and corners Civilian against the freezer door. “I might have missed you too, honestly,” Civilian feels that funny feeling in their stomach flare up again. Was it them or was the room getting hotter? “Really?” they whisper. They are so close together right now, they could practically taste Villain’s lips. Villain leans in even closer and whispers in their ear. “Every minute. I couldn't even focus on my plans, that's why it took so long.” Civilian’s breath hitches and they feel a blush creep up their neck. Villain lets out a soft, but deep chuckle. “Oh, dear, so easily flushed. I wonder…” Before Civilian could do anything, they felt a soft peck on their cheek. They turned as red as the tomato in their cart. Villain was still smirking and let out a satisfied hum. “I should stop there though, before you turn into a puddle.” Civilian didn't want them to stop, they wanted them to keep going. “Please, no, keep going.”

Villain’s smirl grew into a full smile. “That sounded pretty, but that's not for here. How about you go home and I drop off these pizzas to my gremlins that are apparently my henchmen. I'll come to your place later and you can ask me those nice questions again.” Civilian nods but they preferred the Villain coming straight home with them. As if Villain could read their mind they answered: “As I said, my henchmen are like gremlins and it's nearing midnight. Believe me, it’s only chaos that ensues.” Civilian just hoped they won't have to wait too long. “Will you hurry?” Civilian asked. Villain's cocked their head to the side. “Maybe.”

Villain obviously paid Civilian’s groceries.

Hi! This was the obvious poll winner so here it is! It's my first time writing something like this so go easy on me. As always I hope you enjoyed!

My are open if you want to ask me anything! (A snippet, a question, share a thought,... Anything!)

[thebibutterflyao3]

"Meadow"

@pandalilymicrofics - 1080 words

part six - part seven - part eight

“Luna? Do you know where my rose quartz went?” Pandora called out, digging through her drawer of bagged crystals. She carefully stacked the small, divided containers that she’d assembled for her more open-minded patients. If they kept the container sitting open in their house, the energy shift helped somewhat, in her experience. 

However, her daughter was either ignoring her or had her headphones on because she didn’t answer. Luna tended to zone out to her music when she finished with her homework, occasionally painting people and imaginary creatures on her walls and ceiling. Last time Pandora checked, there were four new faces up them. At least she’s making friends at her new school.

“I swear I just bought a pound of polished rose. Where is it?” Pandora muttered to herself as she sifted through the gauzy bags. “And the amethyst?! Am I hallucinating, or have they grown legs and walked away?”

She began pulling all of the crystals out and spreading the bags across the top of her dresser. Once the drawer was nearly empty, she saw the missing bags tucked into the back corner, half-full. Pandora lifted them up and studied the contents, puzzled. “Luna?”

When she still didn’t receive a response, Pandora palmed the opened bags and made her way up the stairs to her daughter’s lair. The second floor was entirely hers, the perks of being an only child. Not that Luna seemed to notice. More often than not, she was lost in her own world.

“Luna?” she said, hesitating when she realised Luna was, in fact, on a ladder painting. The flower-filled meadow and castle on her wall remained half-finished, but Pandora didn’t comment on it. Not wanting to startle her daughter by suddenly appearing in her room, she knocked lightly on the door. “Earth to Luna. May I come in?”

“Of course, Maman,” Luna said. She continued to paint bright red hair on two of the new figures. “Did you need something?”

Pandora held up the bags. “Any idea how this happened?”

Luna glanced at the bags, then nodded, entirely unfazed. “I needed them for an experiment. Is that alright?”

“Well, yes. I wish you’d told me you needed them though.” Pandora stepped closer, her gaze caught on the one figure that Luna had finished painting. It was a boy with dark hair and glasses that looked eerily similar to her client, Mr. Potter. “Who is that? A new friend?”

“Mm-hmm, his name is Harry and I like him,” Luna said, matter-of-fact. She pointed at each of the faces as she spoke. “I went to his house after school yesterday with Ron and Hermione. This one here will be Ginny when it's done. She’s Ron’s sister, but she wasn’t there. She had football practice.”

Pandora closed her hand around the bags and squeezed. It took every ounce of her self-control not to launch into a lecture about safe sex, but she knew Luna could recite it back to her by now. She chose to ignore the fact that her daughter appeared to have a crush on her client’s son. That was irrelevant, and none of her business. “Were either of his parents home?”

“His mum came in shortly after we did, but don’t worry, Maman. We just watched movies and she made us snacks,” Luna replied. She smiled, brushing a thumb fondly over the cheek of Harry’s portrait. “He’s nice. I think you would like him.”

“I’m sure he is.”

Pandora considered a number of tactics to draw out more information, then realised she was dangerously close to psychoanalysing her daughter. Nope. Back off. She has a right to share when she’s ready. The voice in her head was, as usual, her late husband’s. Xeno always knew when to intervene.

Luna rolled her neck side to side, wincing when it cracked. “I think I’m done for tonight. Kinda hungry, actually.”

“I’ll fix something while you clean up, yes?” Pandora waited for her answer before moving from the doorway. It wouldn’t be the first time that Luna tuned her out while she stood right in front of her. Teenagers.

“Yes, Maman.” 

On the way down the stairs, Pandora’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She quickly answered it, smiling when she saw Regulus’s name, then his glaring face on the screen. “‘Allo, Reg. What’s with the face?”

“I had the misfortune of meeting your brother’s new ‘friend’ last night,” he grumbled, shoving his fringe out of his face. “He’s a piece of work, Panda. What rubbish tip did he find that twat in?”

Pandora frowned. “What friend? He stopped by my office this morning to give it a facelift, but he was alone.”

Regulus shook his head, clearly exhausted. “Barmy? Barney? Something like that? He winds Evan up every time he opens his mouth, so I don’t know why he’s keeping him around.” A noise in the background distracted him for a moment, then he waved at someone off-screen. “Sirius, what was that shithead’s name? The one with Evan?”

“Barty,” Sirius said, chuckling. “He wasn’t that bad, Reggie. You just didn’t like that he was hitting on you half the night.”

“Poorly. Very poorly hitting on me,” Regulus corrected. “He was so crude, Panda.”

Sirius cackled in the background. “He really was. It was hilarious! I thought Reggie’s disgust face was going to be permanently stuck.”

Pandora propped her phone against the utensil holder with the rainbow rooster painted on the side and  listened to the two of them banter playfully as she began gathering ingredients for croque monsier. Cream, butter, cheese…more cheese. 

“What about you, Pandora?” Sirius said, his icy blue eyes appearing over his brother’s shoulder as he leaned into frame. “Any gossip? A new beau?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. But…” Pandora scrunched her nose, unsure if she should share her suspicions about Luna’s Harry. It wasn’t as though either of them knew Mr. Potter though, or were likely to ever meet him.  “I think ma lune has a crush on my client’s son. He's the spitting image of his dad.”

Regulus blinked rapidly, then tilted his head to the side like a curious kitten. “Well, that’s…certainly…”

“Awkward,” Sirius interrupted. “That’s awkward as fuck. Is the dad fit?”

“He’s objectively attractive, I suppose, but that’s all I’ll say about him,” she warned, pointing her spatula at the screen. A glob of cream landed in Sirius’s hair. 

Sirius grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Doctor-patient bullshite, I get it.”

[currently-hyper-fixating]

Ben Linus (Lost) x Reader PART SIX

other parts are pinned :)

word count: 2675

summary: you're at the Dharma Initiative for an art residency in 1992 and develop feelings for Ben Linus. Twelve years later, you're back on the island as a survivor of Oceanic flight 815 with no memory of your time at the initiative, or Ben.

note: another long-ish update ahh- having a hard time not updating so much but this is the only one for the day and possibly for the next few days! gotta stop procrastinating, this is just so fun to write and update lol

tagging (let me know if you want to be added or want to be removed at any point) @darkwing-katy @spiltmiiilk @alienwithabox @wintersnails @storywriter12 @bootlmoth

Summer 1992

--

You had been thinking about what Ethan had come up to you and said yesterday, deciding that it was an act independent of Ben, which was even more interesting to you. Ben had continued to be more distant to you, and for the most part, you were fine- but you occasionally peaked out your curtain to see if he was walking by. 

Maybe you did want to see him again, especially considering Ethan’s suggestion that he was concerned for you. 

Self-preservation was important, but it wasn’t really like you could just leave the island whenever you wanted to, anyways. The sub only came and went every few months, and even in the case of medical emergencies, members of the Dharma Initiative generally did not leave the island until their work was considered done. It would be extremely difficult to leave at this point, which Ben should have known.

You were supposed to be there for 6 months, at least until the end of December. You figured lasting until then wouldn’t be an issue, and you weren’t thrilled about the prospect of what was waiting for you back home.

And then there was another component with talking to Ethan, the sweet teenager whose own parents had a significant role in the organization. Ethan had insinuated that he was of use to the ‘hostiles.’ 

Nobody had told you much about them anyways, so why would you be afraid of them? Some vague language around a truce wasn’t enough for you to write off an entire group of people. Was there really no way to cohabitate on this island?

When you left your house in uniform that morning, you made it a point to find Ethan. Just my luck, you thought, spotting him talking to Ben by his parent’s house. You made your way over, trying to avoid eye contact with Ben as you felt his stare on you. 

“Can I talk to you, Ethan?” You asked, smiling his way. 

“We’re actually about to go for a delivery together,” Ben told you curtly, clipboard in hand. 

“Can I see that?” You asked, giving him a polite smile as well. 

He handed it over to you with his lips flatlined, watching as you took out a pen and crossed his name off the sheet. “Looks like I’m actually going with Ethan, why don’t you enjoy your time off?”

You handed the papers back to Ben, grinning at him. He stood there shocked, briefly eyeing Ethan who was smiling back at you. 

As he stood there, you turned your body fully towards Ethan, effectively ignoring Ben. “Are you ready?”

Ethan finished loading a crate of supplies for the Flame into the back of the van, and then joined you in the passenger’s seat. “That was pretty funny, y/n,” He looked over at you as you started driving, laughing. 

You shrugged, “Well, I wanted a chance to talk to you more about what you said the other day.”

He nodded at you. “I just think it’s something to think about,” he said, as if your conversation from yesterday picked up and no time had passed at all. “I know you’re not really here to be involved in the initiative like that-” he paused, watching out the window as you drove down dirt paths slowly. “But if you like being here and want to stay here, dealing with the other people who live here is probably going to come up at some point.”

Ethan, unlike Ben, was not fully aware of the plan to gas the barracks. He knew that his life as he knew it would change- it already had, he had been spending years now following Ben into the ‘hostiles’ camp. 

But he didn’t fully understand that many of his people would end up dying. He did, however, feel a deep connection to this island, and he wanted to help the ‘hostiles.’

He had watched as his father- albeit mostly through the direction of others above him- aided in plans to eradicate these people, to find out more about them through brainwashing and interrogation. Through this knowledge, it was easier for him to justify helping Ben kidnap a baby. It was easier to follow Charles Widmore’s orders. 

Saving the island felt like a more worthy cause than whatever the Dharma Initiative he had grown up with had been vaguely telling him about for years. 

And, he felt like that could be extended to you. 

“Have you run into the other people who live here?” You asked Ethan, deciding you needed actual answers about these people to make any further decisions. 

“Briefly,” he told you, somewhat lying. “All they care about is protecting the island.”

“Protecting it from…?” 

Ethan gestured to the Flame station as you arrived, “From the work we’re doing here.” You made a face at him as you parked the van, turning your head to look at the farm animals in the front of the station. 

“Honestly Ethan, I need a lot more to go off of than that.”

“They saved Ben’s life when he was a child,” Ethan said, getting out of the van as he said so. He raised his eyebrows at you, leaning against the door. “Does that give you more to go off of?”

--

Fall 2004

You woke up on a futon in a room almost similar in style to that of the bedroom in the hatch back at your camp. Your brain felt foggy and your head pounded as you sat yourself up and began to take in your surroundings. 

You were in what seemed like another Dharma station, but the room you were in was much bigger. The fluorescent lights were still there, what a great staple, you thought sarcastically, but there was also a bed, what seemed to be a bathroom, and bookshelves lining the walls.

It was much cleaner than the hatch at your camp, and seemed like someone had put a decent amount of effort into the space. 

You looked in front of you, realizing that on the coffee table there was a folded stack of clothing and a note: 

Feel free to shower and change your clothes :) 

You stared quizzically at the note, wondering who had written it for you. But you made your way over to the bathroom with the pile of clothes nonetheless, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to shower and actually use a bathroom on this island. 

You noticed your bag was missing, but nothing else on your person was gone as you stripped down to shower. The bathroom looked very similar to the one in Locke’s hatch, further confirming to you that this must have been another Dharma station. There was a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, shampoo- you took your time showering and brushing your teeth, happy to have a clean pair of clothes and feel more comfortable. 

After you had gotten changed you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face looked strained from the stress of being here for a few months now, and bags had started to form under your eyes from not sleeping well here. 

Who knew sleeping on the ground of a beach wouldn’t be great for you?

You had been given a dress- strange attire for the island, but it did feel nice to look cleaner and more relaxed for a change. 

You hadn’t even begun to process how you ended up here before a knock came at the door, and a woman with blonde hair entered the room slowly and cautiously. 

“Is it okay if I come in?”

You left the bathroom, looking at her by the door and nodding. “Did you write this note?” 

She smiled at you, “I did. I’m Juliet.”

You shifted slightly and made your way back to sitting on the futon, where she had approached. “I’m y/n,” you introduced back, smiling politely. 

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, looking genuinely concerned. “If you don’t want to wear a dress I have other clothes you can have, don’t feel like you have to wear that.” 

You shook your head at her, “No it’s okay, I’m actually pretty comfortable.” 

“Good,” she said gently, something about her presence calming.

“Some of your friends came here and are being held,” she said, some regret shining through in her voice through the sentence. “They’re okay, I just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you,” you figured it was Michael, Jack, Sawyer, Kate, and Hurley- who else from your group would be coming? You hesitated, feeling a little bit silly as the words tumbled out- “Am I a prisoner?”

She laughed softly at you, “No- you’re not supposed to leave this room for now, but that should just be until your friends are more settled in here.” 

“What do you do here?” You asked, feeling increasingly nervous about your situation as you spoke to her. You believed what she was telling you, but it didn’t stop you from feeling uneasy. Was she even in a position to be telling you all of this?

She looked at you for a minute in silence, as if considering what to tell you. “I’m a doctor. A fertility specialist.” 

“Did you kidnap Claire?” You asked, more bluntly than accusatory. 

She shook her head, “No, the person who took Claire wasn’t supposed to. He panicked because you all found out he wasn’t on the plane- he was trying to help her get medical attention, originally.” 

“Why not just approach the group and explain that you have medical supplies and are able to help her?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at her slightly. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “That’s not the way Ben runs things.” The connection forming for you was startling- Ben was the leader here?

Your group had imprisoned the leader of the ‘others’ without even knowing it? He hadn’t alluded to this even slightly when you had briefly spent time with him. 

Juliet seemed to notice your reaction and changed the subject promptly. “What do you do?” 

You looked at her, realizing it was the first time in a while anybody had asked you anything about yourself. Your group on the island seemed too preoccupied to have this type of conversation most of the time, so you had mostly kept to yourself. 

You smiled at her, “I’m an artist. Or, I was at least. I was in a car accident years ago and haven’t really been able to make much since.” 

She looked at you sympathetically, knowingly. Of course Juliet had known about you- everyone she had consulted about Ben’s behavior towards her had pointed to you as the start of his, well, possessiveness. He seemed to be trying to replicate some type of hold he had over you years ago with her, and it made her feel bad for you to see you end up right back here. 

She found herself wondering why Ben had brought you back here, what was he trying to accomplish?  All she had really been told about you being there was to keep Tom far away from you and not say anything about you having been on the island before. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she spoke after a while. “Can I ask why you can’t?”

“I guess there are a few reasons. My motor skills are damaged slightly so it’s technically harder, and I don’t really have any inspiration to make anything anymore. When I woke up from my accident I had been given a lot of money pretty quickly, so I didn’t really have to work at all. I’ve just been travelling and trying to find some kind of purpose for a while.”

You didn’t know why you trusted her with all this- maybe because she was the only person who had taken any interest in a while. 

“I hope you find it,” she spoke earnestly, continuing to smile in the same gentle and sleepy fashion. “And if you ever want me to do a check up and see if we can work on strengthening your motor skills somehow, just let me know.” 

You nodded, wondering why she had been so kind to you despite your suspiciousness towards her. “Thank you.” 

“I’m going to head back, do you need anything before I leave?” 

You shook your head at her, “No, I’m mostly just really tired.” 

“You can rest here for as long as you need.” 

After Juliet left you found yourself combing through some of the books on the shelves around you and wandering around the room. After surveying your surroundings, you realized you should have asked more specifically about where you were, but it didn’t seem like you were in danger here, and you could freely ask Juliet questions later. 

You thought back to the dark rings around your eyes and the comfort of being on the futon earlier as opposed to sleeping on the ground for weeks, and made your way over to the bed in the room. You laid back, feeling relieved to have your back touch a mattress again. There was something about the comfort that enveloped you, and you quickly fell asleep as you lay there. 

When you woke up, smoothing the dress you were still wearing, you looked up to see Ben sitting in a chair at the other end of the room.

He had cleaned himself up quickly, wearing a blue button down with its sleeves rolled up his arms. His face was shaven and his bruises had seemed to start fading in some places. He wore gold-rimmed reading glasses that looked as though they were starting to slide down his face as he poured over a book in front of him, looking up slightly as you stared at him. 

“You’re awake,” he smiled, closing the book in front of him. 

You looked at him, slightly confused, “Why are you in here?” you asked. 

“In my bedroom?” He countered, smile fading and eyebrows raised at you in a very deadpan fashion.

A wave of embarrassment came over you as you sat up fully, getting out of bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t kn-”

He cut you off, holding a hand up slightly and smiling again, “It’s okay, I’m glad you were able to sleep.” 

You noticed how much more calm and composed he seemed even a few hours later. It became clear that being here, leading the ‘others’ behind a desk of the sorts was more his style than going out himself- You thought back to him drenched in his own dried blood with wounds everywhere, and now to the man in front of you who appeared, mostly, fine. 

“Why am I in your bedroom?”

“Just thought you’d be more comfortable here,” he shrugged, folding up his glasses and setting them on top of his book on the coffee table. He looked up at you, wide, blue eyes peering into you intensely even from across the room. “Are you hungry?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to say or make of the situation. You had just recently realized he was the leader here, and had only now gotten proper sleep for the first time in weeks. The information was still a lot to process. 

“Can you tell me where we are?” You asked, meeting his patient and inquisitive gaze. 

He tilted his head as if he was thinking about it for a moment. “I think it would be easier to show you. Why don’t you come to dinner with me and I’ll show you around.” He smiled at you, watching as your confusion and- maybe fear- stayed plastered on your face.

Ben was persistent, you thought, wondering how he did as a leader of these people. “You can ask me some questions then, hmm?” He stood up, smiling still. It wasn't really a choice, you realized.

“You don’t want to just stay in this room the whole time, do you?” He raised his eyebrow at you, some degree of taunting and challenge in his voice. 

“Okay,” you responded, brushing your hair with your fingers and readying yourself to follow him out the door. 

Part Seven!