#slowly introducing my second oc

[maytheratseatureyes]

[liveyun]

EYES LIKE STARS | 1

banner by the amazing @itaeewon 🌧️

summary. “He was everything you were not. He was perfect—too perfect. Always kind, always excelling, always loved by everyone, even your own parents, like a reminder of everything you weren’t. And you hated this. You hated him. You hated the way he always included you, the way he tried to help, as if you ever needed his pity. He was always there, almost like a shadow you could never escape.

Returning to the town that holds both your earliest memories and silent secrets, you’re forced to confront not only the unsolved knots you’d left behind all those years ago, but the boy who was always at the center of your pain. Whose eyes have always seen right through you : Jungkook.”

title. Eyes like Stars

pairing. Jeon Jungkook x afab reader/oc

status. ongoing

rating. M (18+)

genre. e2f2e2L (you get it), angst, drama, romance, boy next door sorta situation, emotional baggage, slow burn, eventual smut

wc. 9.5k +

warnings. (for this chapter) coarse language, OC being in denial and this is just the beginning LOL , parental negligence / toxic parenting , flashbacks, slight mention injuries (knee scraping) and crying , panic attack :( , oc is kinda.. eh, SOMEONE is introduced 😵‍💫, this is it for the first part, lmk if i missed any other warnings, “english isnt my first language” so can contain grammatical errors, not proof read + the last part omfg

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Some doors, no matter how tightly shut, always find a way to open.

The sun was up after the drizzle, which bathed the town in a subtle golden haze, the kind that made everything feel a little too warm, a little too nostalgic. You walked slowly, almost as if your feet were dragging against the weight of the years you’d left behind. A part of you did not really want to be here, but a greater part of you knew you cannot continue to run away from everything like you always have.

Such a coward.

Your home stood at the end of a narrow lane, tucked away like a secret that had been kept for far too long, to the point you felt like it maybe didn’t exist anymore. The house looked the same, yet different, almost as if it had aged in your absence - funny, because although it looked pretty worn out, nothing really felt off. Or did it? The paint was chipped, the garden overgrown, the lawn and grass both destroyed.

But it was still the place you’d once called home—a place that had witnessed more arguments than apologies, more silence than understanding. You pause, staring at the old, browned door as if it’s a portal to another world— always has been— to a world where you were always second best, always compared, always found wanting, longing, no— yearning for the bare minimum. Your own once called home which always felt like a far distant place for you.

It still does.

The windows stare back at you, blank and lifeless, just like the eyes that used to watch you so closely, judging every move, every breath. You don’t want to go inside, but you know you have to. You cannot keep on running away anymore. You are tired, but you dont exactly know if doing something which has your gut churning with disdain can be exactly considered as rest or relaxation.

You notice that the shabby WELCOME door mat which was once a home for mites is no longer at the front door anymore.

As you drew closer, your eyes involuntarily flickered to the house next door. The garden was well-tended, prettiest of the flowers scattered in the greenery in full bloom, just like how you’d remembered.

As always.

The house stood as if nothing had changed there— as if time had preserved that house and all its memories in a neat little bubble. Always so full of life, always so welcoming. You bite down the bitterness which floats up your chest at the thought. Push down the small voice in the back of your head which insists that you will never be welcomed the way a static house makes you feel.

A part of you, the part you’d tried to bury, kick away— wondered if he still lived there. If his parents still looked out from the same windows, waiting for their golden boy to come home.

Who cares.

You quickly turned your gaze away, focusing on the worn steps leading up to her own front door. Your hand trembles as you reach for the doorknob, the cold metal biting into your skin. You’d previously informed your mum through a text message that you will be visiting them, which you didn’t bother or have the energy to check if she’d actually seen.

Your hand on the knob stills, and you purse your lips in thought. You’d decided it’d be a bit courteous to knock instead of just barging in — perhaps some basic decency to spare — although if it was your own home — as if it ever was. You raise your fists to knock— and the door creaked open before you could really.

There she stood.

The same face that had greeted you with tired smiles and even more tired expectations, back in the days when her face was devoid of wrinkles, and full of youthful beauty. The same person who’d cradled you on her bosom and cherished you; the same person who at least tried to make an effort to mend some broken ties, although when she was very well aware it was way too late.

“You’re back,” your mother said, her voice heavy with something that wasn’t quite disappointment but wasn’t quite relief either. She sounded tired— and your mind partially thought if it was because of you. You really felt overwhelmed by emotions, you really did.

You felt the back of your eyes burn with tears — that familiar feeling which you’d remembered was a staple one when you used to live here back in your teenage days. You wanted to engulf her in a hug and just cry, hoping that you could just, for once, forget about whatever had ever happened, and truly be a child once again.

“I’m back,” you reply, deciding to push aside any fleeting emotions which dared to threaten you. You stepped inside as soon as your mom moved aside and let the familiar scent of home—of old furniture — of broken communication — of forgotten dreams —wash over you.

— — —

Inside, the house was just as you’d remembered it. The wallpaper was still peeling in the corners, the furniture still arranged the way it had been since you were a child. It smelled like old wood, dust, the old sandalwood diffuser — and something bitter that lingered in the air, like the remnants of a fight that never really ended.

The walls seem closer than you remember, the space smaller, suffocating. Everything is the same, yet different, distorted by the journey of time and the weight of all that’s been left unsaid. Was any of the furniture ever even moved ever since you’d left? You’re in doubt.

However, the air was thick with unspoken tension, a tension that had always existed— but was now more prominent, more suffocating. You could feel the weight of your mother’s gaze on you, as if she were waiting for her to say something, anything, to break the silence that had settled between them like thick snow.

Although it’s been so long, surprisingly, you didnt really have anything to break the ice with.

Or even if you did, you didn’t want to.

You move through the house on autopilot, your feet carrying you to the living room where you remember the echoes of your parents’ voices being the loudest. You felt disgruntled — upset, at how memories of your parents fighting are the only prominent thing you can remember vividly inside this house. You wanted to laugh ; you can almost see them standing there, locked in yet another battle of wills, their words sharp and cutting, slicing through the air like knives, and you— you ?

Perhaps standing in some corner with your favorite old teddy bear, covering your ears the best you could, trembling with sobs, wondering if this would ever stop. Their words, though, are like a very vague memory to you. Almost as if someone is tingling a metal glass in the back of your head, far away, and the echoes which reach you are the only thing audible.

They were always fighting, always tearing each other apart, and you were always caught in the crossfire, collateral damage in a war that wasn’t even yours to fight.

But it was you who paid the price, every single time.

You hear footsteps, and your throat goes dry. The realization that you recognize the footsteps is beyond disturbing to you, as the fact that you even know who the owner of the footsteps is.

From recognising footsteps to vehicle horns, you grew up, and this would never not be able to turn on a switch in the back of your head. You knew the footsteps, their urgency, or even their tone, may you be called crazy. And you perhaps are delusional to think that maybe these steps are rather relaxed and slow. . .

perks of growing in a strict family, you guess.

Your father emerged from the kitchen, his steps slow and deliberate. His eyes, now very much lacking of the light they used to radiate, widen ever so slightly, but then again, come back to their usual resting form. Almost as if he tried to mask his. . . disappointment?

You weren’t sure, and his expression wasn’t one of happiness, either.

He looked older, more worn, but his eyes held the same disapproval you had seen so many times before. The kind of disapproval that was never voiced but was always felt.

A kind of disapproval you felt in your veins even before you were faced to force it, almost as if it was imprinted deep in your veins, that no matter what you’d do, you’re going to get this stamp of resentment passed onto you.

“Long time,” he muttered, his eyes flicking over yours as if assessing the damage of the years. The silence which has stretched all over these years. You were surprised that he even decided to speak up, remembering the time when you departed.. wasn’t exactly as serene as a teary goodbye sounded like, but that was a memory you refused to unlock.

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

You grimace at how dry you sounded, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe because it’s partially the fact that you didn't know what to answer, or maybe because..

Well.

You stood there, the three of you, now, in the cramped living room that had never felt like a home to you. You wonder if it did to them too, or was it just the forced idea of it being a home to rest their heads in made them used to the idea that it was a home. Misunderstandings which haunt you, as their child, you sure are to know that they must haunt them too.

You were someone who tried fixing them, who never once tried to do that themselves, right in the place where it all began, pretending it was home, when all it ever felt like was a place they were too tired to leave.

The silence in the room felt heavy, oppressive, broken only by the faint ticking of the old clock on the wall which seemed to drag time over and over.

It once again felt like their eyes pierced your very own soul, trying to burn you with their gaze.

“I’ll get dinner started,” your mother echoed, turning away before anyone could respond. It was easier, you supposed, to keep busy than to confront the reality of your return.

Or her expectations. Who knows.

You nodded, more to yourself than to anyone else, and followed your mother into the kitchen. You weren’t surprised that your father opted to go outside — a habit you’d recall which was so frequent back in the olden days when everything was a frenzied mess. Either he used to be out puffing out nicotine, or simply. . . didn’t return home until he felt like it.

— — —

The kitchen was smaller than you’d remembered, or maybe you’d just grown up. The shelves were no longer as tall as Burj Khalifa to you, and neither were the long random cabinets— who were the same dull brown, the countertops cluttered with the same appliances that had seen better days.

Your breath stuttered at how even the products you’d seen were the same, not a single new thing filled there— from the good ol’ crunchy cereal cornflakes (which was barely even consumed for breakfast,) or the chilli crisp you’d loved to drizzle on top of nearly any dish you’d had.

Truly, nothing really had changed.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” your mother’s voice reached out to you as you nearly flinched, not having expected her to begin a conversation. She was diligent in her chore; her question was like a soft command which demanded an answer, not looking up from where she was peeling potatoes, with that same old lilac handled peeler.

“Yeah,” you repeat, this time truly not knowing what else to say. To say you felt like a dumbass was an understatement; because truly, after so long, you seem to have lost the spark to even think to answer.

However , you didn’t want to explain yourself, didn’t want to justify why you’d stayed away for so long. You didn’t owe them that. You didn’t owe them anything.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. It felt better that way.

The silence returned, heavy and uncomfortable. You found yourself staring out the small kitchen window, your gaze drifting to the house next door. You could see the top of the garden wall, the vibrant green of the plants that lined it.

It was strange how one small thing could hold so many memories, how one small thing could make you feel so much. Much more than being inside of your own house ever did, or ever could.

Yet, something about it feels different now, like a memory you’ve revisited too many times, its edges blurred with the weight of all you’ve carried inside you for decades.

You can almost see him there, in the yard, surrounded by laughter that wasn’t just his—it was a magnet, he was like a magnet, pulling everyone into its orbit, everyone except you. You were always on the outside looking in, (and it’s nearly ironic how you are now too,) your heart a silent witness to the joy you could never touch, never reach.

Even when he reached out, trying to pull you into that magnetic circle of warmth, you resisted. Your pride was too wounded, your envy was too sharp. How could you join in when every smile of his was a reminder of everything you could never be?

.....

Fuck.

You quickly look away, focusing on the mundane task of setting the table, very well knowing that your mom is gonna do that again. But the curiosity lingered, like a small fucking bug, a small, nagging feeling that you couldn’t quite shake out of you.

You did not want to think about him. You did not come here all the way to remember someone who has always just,. . . you sigh, gritting your teeth. Here were you again, fretting and sweating. Your mind whirred, not wanting to remember the way his smile had once made you feel both seen and invisible at the same time.

— — —

You decide you could take a walk around to fuck around and.. uh, find out, maybe? (You weren’t sure what exactly, though.)

As you maneuver through the hallway, your gaze drifts to the old family photos hanging on the wall. They seem. . out of place, like relics from a time that never really existed, or more like pieces on . . a museum? A museum where no one cared for its content , and everything was just randomly added to make something out of nothing.

You were always smiling in those pictures, but it was a smile that never reached your eyes—a smile that hid the exhaustion inside you. And there, in the corner of every photo, was him.

Even in those memories, those old photos, he was perfect. The golden boy with the bright eyes and the easy smile. His eyes were so bright and full of a happiness that seemed to come so naturally, would crinkle at the corners when he smiled—an easy, effortless smile that lit up his entire face.

His hair, always a little tousled from running around, caught the sunlight in a way that made it glow, adding to the image of him as the golden boy. You remember the way his front teeth, slightly larger and giving him that bunny-like appearance, would peek out when he grinned, adding a touch of innocence to his already charming features. He’s grinning widely in this picture, his nose crinkled up and his fingers poised in a victory sign, aligned to his face, right above his eyes, a smile so infectious that you feel your lips stretch to a smile even before you know it.

Your heart drops to your ass.

You’re smiling.

You can still hear their voices,though. Dripping with disappointment every time they said his name, their expectations pressing down on you like a weight you could never lift. You were expected to be someone’s walking copy— perfect and what not. You were the one who couldn’t measure up, the one who always fell short, who always came last in the race.

You take a deep breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling shards of glass, each breath painful, deep and cutting. The silence in the house is deafening, only the distant noise of your mother chopping up vegetables with that same dull thud against the chop board audible.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that the absence of your parents’ voices is more suffocating than their arguments ever were. You had always wished for the fighting to stop, but now that it has, you find yourself wishing for the noise, the chaos—anything to drown out the silence that presses in on you from all sides.

Maybe you had finally gone insane.

You had run away from it all. From the piercing noises, comparison, disdain, disappointment, everything. You were so young back then, with no knowledge of the outside world or its secrets.

You’d try to settle in different parts of the world, failing miserably each time because that feeling of something missing in your soul— that deep longing and yearning for anything that wasn’t as quick as getting a quick whiff of dopamine.. never quite left following you.

And now, here you are, back where it all began, and nothing has changed. Except, perhaps, you. You’re not the same girl who left this place. You’ve seen too much, been through too much. The world has carved its mark on you, left you scarred and weary, and you’re not sure if there’s anything left of the girl you used to be.

But as you stand there, looking out at the endless pictures which hang on the old plastered walls where the past that still haunts you, you realize something.

You’re not just angry anymore.

You’re tired.

Tired of carrying this weight, this burden of resentment and hurt. Tired of blaming all the misunderstandings that were woven into the delicate fabric of your mind as you grew up, to someone who perhaps wasn't even slightly related to your pain.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t really him you despised, but the circumstances that had pushed you to see him as the source of your pain, which had settled like dust in the chambers of your heart. The misunderstandings that had tangled themselves into the delicate fabric of your mind as you grew up, weaving him into the narrative of your suffering, were unfair to you both.

It felt easier to blame him than to confront the truth—that your pain had roots far deeper than just one boy with a bright smile and kind heart.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let go.

The thought surprises you, shakes you to your core. Where the fuck did that come from?

The thought not only surprises you, but mostly, scares you. You take a cautious step back. It comes with a dozen questions which you fear that you don’t know the answers to, or are way too confused to even think about them.

You’ve held onto this anger for so long, let it define you, shape you. Who will you be without it? Can you really let go of something that has been a part of you for so long?

Did it really take you this long to realise this, all that, too in the place where you desperately ran away from?

You don’t have the answers, not yet. But standing here, in this place where it all began, you think that maybe you’re ready to start looking for them.

And that scares you more than anything else.

You find yourself staring at a sketchbook, after dinner, which was all just . . . once again, all silence. You remember how you realised that the food tasted bland, despite having a home cooked meal after nearly a decade. You tried adding salt till it was way too salty, and you had to gulp down each morsel because it became too bitter for your taste. The suffocating silence was broken when the bubbling hot stew burnt your tongue, as you yelped in pain. The only relief you got was gulping down a whole bottle of iced water from the fridge.

Your tongue feels numb now. Great.

Your eyes roam over the sketchbook again, its once pristine pages now yellowed with age. It was a relic from your childhood, buried deep in the attic with dust for years until your return home unearthed it. As you trace the lines of the drawing on the first page, you remember the day you made it—a simple scene of a house on a hill, surrounded by trees and bathed in the warm glow of a sunset, and those huge “V” shaped birds marked randomly near the sun.

You remember that you were so proud of that drawing, each line and color carefully chosen by your younger self, an attempt to capture a world that felt safe and beautiful.

An imaginary place where you’d even thought of making stick figures to show you and your parents, a world where they lived happily, but the vague pencil traces underneath the pastel scribbling show that you’d decided it was better without it.

But the memory of showing it to your parents is what lingers most. You remember how your excitement had bubbled over as you presented the drawing to your parents, your young heart brimming with pride. You’d spent hours on that piece, the house on the hill, the yellow-ish hues of the sunset, the trees swaying gently in the imaginary breeze. You thought it was the best thing you’d ever created.

But when you placed the sketchbook in front of them, eager for their approval, their reactions were far from what you had hoped.

Your mother’s eyes had flickered over the page, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t say anything at first, just handed the sketchbook over to your father, who barely glanced at it before returning to his newspaper. It was your mother who finally broke the silence, her voice flat and dismissive. “It’s… fine,” she’d said, and that single word was like a bucket of cold water on your excitement, your hard work.

You remember vividly, how your heart sank, how the colours of your drawing seemed to dull right before your eyes. How hours of scribbling felt like it’d all been to waste. The pride you’d felt moments before quickly evaporated, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You were too young to understand why her words stung so much, but old enough to know they did.

But then your mother’s tone shifted, a hint of something sharper creeping into her voice. Her eyes, dark and clear, were on you. “You know,” she’d continued, “Jungkook showed us a drawing he did just last week. It was a landscape too, but he added so much detail. The way he captured the mountains and the way the light reflected on the water… It was really impressive. His technique is really improving.”

Your father chimed in, not even looking up. “Yes, he’s always had a good eye for these things, hah. Natural talent, I suppose.”

You’d just stood there in the corner, your limbs feeling way too weak and shaky to hold you up.

You’d tried to keep your expression neutral, tried to swallow the hollow pain in your chest, but it was no use. The resentment boiled inside you, twisting something in your chest until all you could feel was the unfairness of it all. You had wanted to create something beautiful, to show them what you were capable of, that you could do better, but instead, your drawing had become just another reminder of how you didn’t measure up.

The sting of their words burned hot behind your eyes, and before you knew it, tears were blurring your vision. You didn’t want to cry in front of them, didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they had hurt you. So you bolted from the yard, the sound of their conversation fading behind you as you ran, feeling even hurt that none of your parents bothered to ask about where you were going.

But your vision was too clouded by tears, and as you reached the stairs, you’d feel your foot catch on the edge of a step. You stumbled forward, eyes widening, your arms flailing as you tried to catch yourself, but it was too late. You’d fallen, hard, the impact of your knee against the hardwood sending a sharp jolt of pain through your leg.

You remember the way your mother had smiled when she talked about Jungkook’s drawing, a soft, admiring smile that she rarely directed at you. It wasn’t just the critique of your work that hurt—it was the realization that, in their eyes, Jungkook would always outshine you. No matter how hard you tried, how much effort you put in, he was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong, while you were just… there.

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, partly from the pain, but mostly from the overwhelming sense of rejection and inadequacy. You sat there on the stairs, your knee scraped and bleeding, the ache in your chest even worse than the one on your knee. The drawing that had once filled you with pride now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how you would always fall short, no matter how hard you tried.

You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, angry at yourself for crying, angry at them for making you feel this way, and angry at Jungkook for being the perfect son they never had. The resentment grew deeper, and with it, so did the belief that you were never going to be good enough for them, no matter what you did.

— — —

The moon is full overhead when you finally change into some comfortable PJs and finally feel sleep knock on the back of your eyelids and exhaustion making its way to move gradually along your body. Today wasn’t exactly eventful, but rather a concoction of memories which tickled and stung you like a thousand bees over and over.

You’ve decided to keep the windows open, . . .for tonight, atleast, because you do not dare sleep without feeling suffocated here. It sounds silly, but having nice ventilation feels. . . fresh, or more so.

You were around fourteen, you think, as you remember sitting on the edge of the playground, kicking at the dirt with the toes of your worn sneakers. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the field, and you could hear the other kids shouting and playing, their voices mingling with the distant hum of traffic.

You weren’t interested in joining them. Your eyes were fixed on a figure in the distance, one you knew all too well.

Jungkook.

He was standing by the swings, laughing with a group of boys who seemed to hang on his every word. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he pushed it back, and his smile—God, that smile—was so bright, so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at. You hated that smile. You hated how perfect he seemed, how effortless everything was for him. And you hated how, no matter what you did, you could never seem to escape his shadow. No wonder the girls were so hung up on him, even the class president— it was ridiculous.

That day had started like any other, with your parents reminding you how you should be more like Jungkook. They praised his grades, his athletic abilities, and his charm. Either a direct implication of “Why can’t you be more like him?” or something like “You know, Jungkook— blah blah blah, all that bullshit about how he was better than you in every aspect. Even if it was the topic of increasing acne on your face, not realising—or maybe not caring—how their words cut you down. You knew they meant well, or maybe not, but each comparison felt like a knife to your heart, a reminder that you would never be good enough.

That you’ll never be him.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a presence beside you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey,” Jungkook said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “Why are you sitting here alone?” His voice was always so soft. So gentle.

You hated his voice. Why did he sound so. . . sweet ? so smooth, almost with a slight undertone of a rasp. Why did it make you want to surrender and break down into the frustration which was pent up inside you since ages?

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest heavy. You wanted to tell him to go away, to leave you alone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Because as much as you resented him, wanted him away from you, you somehow wanted him near you, a feeling which was hugely perplexing to you. It was a twisted, painful contradiction that you didn’t fully understand, nor you’d ever wanted to.

Jungkook sat down beside you, right on the dusty ground, his knee brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt, a feeling of fleeting emotions through you, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Of course he’s gonna be concerned.

And that was the thing about Jungkook—he was always so kind, so considerate, even when you didn’t want him to be. It only made you feel worse. It only made you feel like utter shit, like you were not meant for anything, not even basic human compassion.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your emotions in check. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t seem convinced. He shifted closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. He smelled like baby powder mixed with sweat. Irritating. “You know you can talk to me, right? If something’s bothering you.”

You almost laughed at the irony. How could you talk to him when he was the source of so much of your pain? When everyday you had to just, suffer because of him? How could you tell him that every time you looked at him, you felt like you were drowning in your own inadequacy? That every time he succeeded, it felt like another reminder of your failures? While he was always praised, always encouraged, while you were left to wonder why your efforts never seemed to measure up?

But instead of saying any of that, you just nodded, giving him the answer he wanted. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you as weak, as vulnerable. You couldn’t let him know how deeply he had affected you.

There was a long silence between you, the kind that felt like it was stretching out forever. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the tension in your chest building with every passing second. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jungkook spoke again.

“You know, you’re really talented,” he said, his voice slightly higher than usual, a habit you hate to have noticed when he gets excited about something. “I just saw your abstract sketches the other day. Holy shit dude, they’re amazing!”

You didn’t know if your heart hammering in your chest sounded more or the silence after his praise did. He, however, didn’t stop there.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to twist the knife deeper. Because at that moment, you realised that he didn’t understand. He couldn’t. To him, everything came so easily—success, praise, admiration. But for you, it was a constant struggle, a battle you fought every day just to keep your head above water.

You turned to look at him then, really look at him, not caring if your eyes are brimming with unshed tears or if your nose is runny with snot and tears.

And for the first time, you saw the boy behind the perfect image. There was a softness in his eyes, a sincerity that made your heart ache. And for a fleeting moment, you wanted to believe him, to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were more than the sum of your insecurities.

But then reality came crashing back, and the bitterness you had tried so hard to suppress bubbled to the surface.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice flat, on the verge of cracking, devoid of the warmth you knew he was expecting. “But I don’t need your pity.”

Jungkook blinked, his doe eyes widening, taken aback by your sudden harshness. “It’s not—”

“Just leave me alone,” you’d hissed, standing up abruptly. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you turned and walked away, your heart pounding in your chest, your blood rushing onto your face. You could feel his eyes on your back, but you didn’t dare look back. Because if you did, you knew you would see the hurt in his expression, and you couldn’t handle that. Not when you were already so close to breaking.

And so you ran. Ran so fast, so hard, that you felt your chest constrict and gulp for air— the static breeze feeling like wind on your face as you ran, ran, ran. Ran till your limbs gave away and your head hurt, till you feel your insides eat you up with a strange mix of emotions—anger, regret, sadness.

But most of all, you felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, even if you felt like you did the right thing. Because in pushing Jungkook away, you had also pushed away the one person who might have understood, who might have been able to help you. . . only if you hadn’t pushed him away.

But it was too late now. The damage was done, and you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

But as you stare at the sketchbook now, under the glowing moonlight, running your fingers over the faded lines of the drawing, the sketches you’d made again — you see it with different eyes—eyes that can appreciate the innocence in those lines, the earnestness of a child who only wanted to create something beautiful. The proportions might not be perfect, almost nothing in those sketches were — but there’s a charm in their simplicity, a warmth in the colors that you hadn’t noticed before. They were all good drawings, you think, not because of their technical skill, but because they were a reflection of who you were back then—hopeful, imaginative, and full of dreams.

And maybe, just maybe, you had been a little too hard on yourself all those years ago.

You hadn’t even planned to be here.

The moment your father casually mentioned that the Jeons still lived next door, you felt that familiar, uncomfortable pressure building in your chest. You didn’t absolutely know why that information passed on, especially when after a heavy restless night of feeling like crap, your muscles aching from exhaustion , your brain unable to process every thought which you’d thought, you were finally up to join your parents for an early evening tea.

His voice was cheerful, like he had no idea the gravity of what he was suggesting, but you felt it immediately. Every time the conversation veered toward your neighbors, it dredged up feelings you weren’t ready to confront. The Jeons—his parents—meant one thing, and ultimately, one thing only: Jungkook.

The mention of their name was enough to send your mind into overdrive, painting images of polite conversation and awkward laughter, images that twisted into something far more unbearable—seeing him. You could already hear the follow-up conversation in your mother’s saccharine sweet voice, “Why don’t you come over and say hello? Catch up with the Jeons?” And worst of all, they’d ask about you. You felt despondent to even think of the conversation, if it ever took place.

You weren’t used to the warmth which Mr. and Mrs. Jeon had shown you throughout the years, which only made you doubt if they ever knew the thick wall of ash between their son and you. They were so copacetically well humored, it almost hurt to be in a conversation with them.

Almost as if you never were used to this form of decency, that it shocked you to your core.

Jungkook’s parents would definitely ask, and you'd be expected to stand there and smile like you hadn't left everything behind. You know they definitely wouldn’t mean anything hurtful, but you do not believe your mind.

Not yet, atleast.

Before your parents could suggest anything more, before they could casually lead you down that path of small talk and forced interactions, you’d mumbled a vague excuse. Something about needing to stretch your legs, or needing some air.

You really did, though.

You’d slipped out the front door like you were running away, and you shook away the bitterness forming in your throat. You weren’t sure where you were going, only that it had to be away from that conversation, away from the chance of seeing him.

As your feet carried you through the familiar streets, your mind raced faster than your heart. The narrow, winding streets were the same, the faded signs on shop windows were the same, but the memories that clung to the air—they were suffocating.

You’d always thought coming back would be simple. Walk down memory lane, see familiar faces, and pretend you were someone new. But the weight of those memories hung over you, each one sharper than the last. With every corner you turned, you felt the tug of your past, a pull you couldn’t quite shake away, no matter how hard you’d tried to shrug it off.

— — —

You found yourself slipping into a small café you hadn’t noticed before, just off the main road, desperate for a reprieve.

What’s the name— 134340? Quite strange, you think, but shrug it off once again. People are creative with their business requirements, even if that means that you probably make out nothing from eyeing the café from outside. except the fact that. . . it’s possibly space themed?

Now that is strange for a coffee shop.

You think that it’s quite new. Or, who even knows. It stands out from the dull shops lit nearby, and there’s quite a buzz which attracts you here, although you’d prefer a quiet café over a bustling one any day.

Well, fuck it.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries greeted you as you stepped inside, the hum of quiet conversation and the soft clink of mugs providing a much-needed escape. It’s surprisingly cozy, something you’d never guessed from the odd name and the theme previously. The café is small, actually smaller than most you’ve been to. Though, it’s nice, there are fewer people here, and you quite find yourself at peace already. You chose a table near the back, away from the windows, trying to create some distance from the life outside.

You hadn’t planned to stay long, but the peaceful atmosphere lulled you into a false sense of security. You let out a long breath, allowing the tension to ease from your shoulders as you sipped your coffee. Ha, thisfelt nice. For a few blissful moments, you felt like you could breathe again. Almost like. . . maybe you could handle this return to your hometown after all.

And then, the door chimes.

You barely looked up at first—just another customer, maybe a loner like you, someone else in this quiet café. But then the barista’s voice cut through the room, clear and distinct.

“Macchiato for Jungkook!”

Huh?

Your hand froze halfway to your cup. The familiar sound of his name hit you like a punch to the gut, making your breath hitch.

No fucking way.

Your gaze shot up, almost instinctively, and that’s when you saw him. There, standing by the counter, picking up his drink like it was the most casual thing in the world. Him.

Your heart seemed to lurch into your throat. It couldn’t be him—it couldn’t. And yet, there he was, right in front of you, a few inches away.

The room seemed to shrink around you, your pulse quickening as your eyes locked onto him. You felt yourself gasping for air, your peace long broken. Your body felt suddenly too warm, your chest tightening painfully as every nerve in your body screamed for you to look away.

But you just couldn’t.

He had changed.

The boy you left behind had grown into someone you barely recognized. His back was visible to you— his frame was broader, more solid than you remembered, and his shoulders— God, what the fuck? they seemed to stretch forever beneath the dark jacket he wore. His hair, slightly tousled, deep raven — as you’d remembered— framed his face in that familiar, careless way, but it was sharper now. Defined. There was no mistaking the confidence in the way he carried himself, something he hadn't fully grown into back then.

But what stood out most—what nearly knocked the breath from your lungs—were those— were those. . . tattoos peeking underneath his jacket?

Jungkook's arm, the one that used to be bare, now carried intricate black ink that snaked from his wrist to his elbow, disappearing under the sleeve of his jacket. The lines were bold, winding and curling, and you felt your jaw drop, even if he was standing at a distance. The tattoos seemed to catch the light as he reached for his drink, each motion of his arm drawing your attention like a magnet.

You couldn’t stop staring. The boy you remembered—the one who had always been so kind, so open—had become someone else entirely.

One who stood in stark contrast to the memories you had clung to.

And he was alone.

Jungkook had always been surrounded by people. He was known to be the crowd attractor, always having his admirers petting him by his neck. He was never the type to go anywhere without friends trailing behind him, their laughter filling the spaces around him. But here, now, in this café—he was by himself. There was a stillness about him that you didn’t remember, something quiet and self-assured.

Now, it almost felt like he didn’t need anyone around him to validate his presence. He was comfortable in his own skin, by himself.

That realisation hit you harder than you expected. He had changed in ways you hadn’t anticipated, ways that made your chest tighten with emotions you couldn’t even begin to name.

And then, just as you thought your heart might explode from your chest, Jungkook turned slightly, his eyes sweeping across the café—casually, as if he were taking in his surroundings—and your stomach dropped.

Fuck, fuck. The coffee was so strong, you feel it lurching up your stomach now.

You flinched, ducking your head quickly, heart pounding so loud you thought he might hear it across the room. Did he see you? Could he have recognized you after all these years? Your breath was shallow, uneven, panic rising in your throat as you wrestled with the urge to bolt from your seat.

You weren’t ready for this.

You weren’t ready to face him. Not here, not now. Not when you were still so caught up in your own thoughts, still trying to piece together the fragments of what your brain showed you. You’d come here for a cup of coffee— some peace— and seeing him again, after all this time, felt too much, and too little at once. It was like a bomb, or a bucket of ice cold water thrown directly at you.

It was overwhelming.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for your bag, your movements jerky and uncoordinated. Your heart was racing, and every instinct in your body was telling you to run. But you hesitated, torn between the undeniable urge to leave and the part of you that wanted to look at him just once more. Just to see if he had really changed as much as you thought. Just to see if he, unlike this town, your home, had changed.

But you knew better. You couldn’t stay. Not with your emotions so close to the surface, threatening to spill over. If he saw you, if he recognized you—if he spoke to you— you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Because you know you can’t.

The café, once so peaceful, now felt stifling, the walls closing in on you as your breath quickened. You couldn’t breathe. You needed to get out of here, needed to escape before everything came crashing down.

With one final glance at his figure, standing there by the counter, you pushed your chair back, the screeching sound drawing more attention than you would have liked. But you didn’t care. You grabbed your things and bolted for the door, your pulse pounding in your ears, your steps quick and uneven.

You’d nearly made it. The door was just a few steps away, and all you had to do was keep your head down and walk.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest, the anxiety twisting your insides as you tried to steady your breathing. Jungkook hadn’t seen you—or at least you hoped he hadn’t. You prayed to heavens and hells that he hadn’t. But just as you reached for the door, you saw him lean against the counter, much closer now. Far closer than you had anticipated.

Fuck. Fuck!

The café’s single door was right beside where he stood, and there was no way out without passing directly by him.

Oh no.

You shouldn’t have chosen this café. Was there no other cafés for you to try? Did HE necessarily have to be in the same café as you?

Your stomach churned, your pulse thudding in your ears, drowning out everything else. He was right there. Right there. And you could feel the heat radiating off him even from where you stood. Panic crawled up your spine, making your movements sluggish and jerky. You just needed to keep your head down and walk—walk past him without glancing his way, without catching his eye. But he was so close, and as you stepped forward, trying to make yourself as small as possible, you caught it—his scent.

That familiar scent, one that had changed just as much as he had. He no longer smelled like baby powder. It was manly now, deeper, some sort of an expensive cologne, which was strong on its own— yet soft, almost comforting in a way that made your chest constrict painfully. The scent wrapped around you, making your knees feel weak, and for a second, you nearly lost your footing. You fought the instinct to look at him—to take one glance and confirm that yes, this is the Jungkook you left behind, the one who had grown into a man. But you couldn’t. If you looked at him, you’d be done.

You were beyond cooked.

Your legs carried you forward, faster than they should have, your mind racing with every step. You felt your arm brush something—him, the edge of his jacket maybe, or his hand on the counter—and your pulse spiked violently.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

You shoved the door open, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you stumbled outside, the cool air hitting your face like a hard slap back to reality.

You were outside. You’d made it. But the world around you was spinning, the street and the sky blurring together as your heart continued to pound in your chest. You leaned against the wall just outside the café, your hand pressed to your chest, trying to catch your breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside you.

Your palms felt uncomfortably clammy and you felt a sweat head run down your temple. Your thoughts were a mess—disjointed. Everything was hitting you at once; you had run away again. You had seen him, been close enough to touch him, and you had run. Just like before.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the ache in your chest spreading as you tried to pull yourself together. It was stupid. So stupid. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid ! You were an adult now, one with full responsibilities for your actions, and yet here you were, fleeing like a scared child.

You took a deep breath, forcing the air into your lungs. Maybe you could handle this. Yeah, you needed to clear your head. It’s just the coffee messing with you. Maybe you could—

“Excuse me?”

Your entire body froze at the voice directed at you.

That voice.

Deep. Smooth. Rich. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, catching you off guard, wrapping itself around you like a tether, pulling you back toward the very thing you were trying to escape.

It wasn’t the voice you remembered—but it also very much was— heavier, weighted with a kind of maturity that made your breath catch. The boy you once knew had never sounded like this. This voice was deeper, more assured, like it had weathered years of life since you last heard it. The softness which his voice held in your memory still was back somewhere, but you couldn’t find it. And that hit you hard. He wasn’t that same boy anymore. The boy who used to tease you, who laughed with that bright, carefree chuckle—he was gone.

And now, that very voice was speaking to you.

You slowly turned to face him, your heart thudding violently in your chest as your eyes locked onto his face.

Yeah, this was your end.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jungkook.

He was right there, just a few feet away. And this close, you could see everything.

The sharpness of his jawline hit you first, carved out and more defined than you ever remembered. It was strong, angular, like someone had taken the softness he once had and sculpted it into something more. . . commanding. His lips, parted slightly as he waited for you to respond, were full and soft, but even they held a sense of control, like every movement was deliberate. Fuck, was that a piercing at the corner ? His nose—perfectly straight, leading up to those eyes.

Those eyes.

Dark, deep, and searching. They hadn’t changed much in shape, but the way they looked at you was different now—more intense, more aware. His gaze wasn’t filled with youthful curiosity or mischief anymore. It was deeper. Grounded. Like he saw more, understood more.

He was a man now.

Your stomach twisted violently, and you had to force yourself to breathe.

Your gaze traveled up, noting the way his thick brows framed his face, darker and more defined than you remembered. They furrowed slightly as he watched you, as if trying to figure out why you were staring, why you hadn’t taken the phone from his hand yet. The small furrow in his brows only made his expression more serious, more focused. He was looking at you—not just glancing, but looking.

His dark, inky black hair brushed just above his brows, a few strands falling forward in that effortless, tousled way. It was longer now, framing his face, giving him an edge that made your chest tighten.

But it wasn’t just his face. Your eyes flickered down for just a second, barely able to handle it. His neck—strong and sinewy, leading to broad shoulders that seemed even broader now in the fitted jacket he wore. He’d filled out—a lot. His arms were no longer just lean muscle from teenage years of sports. Now, they were thicker, more muscular, straining against the fabric of his sleeve. Oh my God.

Your mind raced, every detail crashing into you at once, overwhelming your senses. Your chest felt tight, and you felt like your hands were shaking by your sides.

The more you looked, the more you realized how much had changed. How much you had missed. How much you had run away from?

It felt like the world was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the flood of memories, the weight of time lost, the realization that Jungkook had grown into someone you barely recognized—yet you knew it was still him.

He was still him.

You were losing yourself in it, in all of it, your thoughts spiraling out of control, unable to process the fact that he was standing here, holding something that belonged to you, waiting for you to take it from him.

Your eyes flickered back to his face, your heart clenching painfully. He was watching you, studying you in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness. And yet, as much as he was looking at you, he didn’t know you. Didn’t recognize you. Not yet, anyway.

That hit you harder than you could’ve expected. How could he not know who you were? How could he not see it in your face, in the way you were trembling, in the panic written all over you?

But then again, why would he?

You were no longer the same girl he once knew.

And as his eyes narrowed in mild confusion, his brow furrowing just a little deeper, it became clear—he didn’t see you as the person who had disappeared from his life. Not yet.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice sending a tremor down your spine. You couldn’t miss the concern in his tone, the slight edge of worry that made your throat tighten even more.

Fuck. Of course he’d be concerned.

You blinked, the world rushing back into focus, feeling like your pupils zoomed like crazy— and suddenly, you realized you had been standing there for far too long, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Standing there like a damn weirdo.

Your phone. He is holding your phone.

For a split second, your eyes met his, and time seemed to freeze.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for the briefest of moments, something flickered there—something like recognition. You feel your eyes widening, bells ringing at the back of your head. His eyes softened, just slightly, as if he was searching your face for something familiar, something from the past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that same polite curiosity.

For a moment, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Your eyes flickered between his face and the phone in his hand, your chest tightening with each passing second. What should you do? He was right there, right in front of you. He was close enough for yoh to reach out and take back what was yours.

But you couldn’t.

Your hand now actually trembled at your side, your body frozen in place. The air felt too thick for you to gulp in, and your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“I—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, trying to make your body move. But you couldn’t.

You just couldn’t.

He tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face as he waited for you to take the phone. Why is he so concerned!? But you just stood there, rooted to the spot, like your feet had been glued to the ground. You felt the panic rising inside you again, the walls closing in as your chest tightened painfully, slowly.

“I—” you tried again, but your throat was too tight, and the word came out as nothing more than a strangled sound, like a muffled voice.

He took a step closer, and that was it. That was it.

Your body went into overdrive. Without thinking, without even trying to reason with yourself, you turned on your heel and bolted down the street, not caring if people stopped to look at you, thinking if you possibly were either a lunatic or someone who just won a lottery.

You didn’t care. You ran, ran, feeling your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you ran. Your legs felt shaky beneath you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you darted around the corner, as far away from him as possible.

You couldn’t do this.

Your heart was hammering so violently you thought it might burst right out of your chest, and all you could think about was getting away. Far, far away.

You ran till you feel your chest burn, you ran till you felt like your limbs would give up. You ran till you feel like nothing again, you ran till your mind was empty.

When you finally slowed, your breath came in harsh, ragged bursts, and your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were there. You collapsed onto a bench, your whole body trembling violently as the weight of everything crashed down on you.

You had run away.

Again.

And this time, you didn’t even have an excuse.

a/n : phew.. 😵‍💫 if you’ve made this far, thank you for reading 💜 what do we think? i’d be very glad if you let me know your thoughts 🫶🏾 if you want, there’s an anonymous feedback box where you can drop your thoughts anonymously 💌

[literaryavenger]

Broken

Summary: after Civil War you meet and bond with Bucky Barnes. You want to help him, but do you really realize how hard it's going to be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Hints to eating disorder. Language probably, for now just fluff and innocent and broken Bucky. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: This is my first story, and it's taken me a long time to even decide to post it. As of now I honestly have no idea where this story is going, the idea just popped in my head and I ran with it. I do have the first three chapters ready and I'm starting the fourth, I hope I find a plot at some point, we'll see how this one does and go from there. Also, this was a reader version of a story I had on wattpad with an OC so I had to rewrite it accordingly so if there are any mistakes that's why, feel free to point them out so I can fix them thanks.

Masterlist

You enter the kitchen of the Avengers tower and saw two people sitting at the counter, immediately recognizing the one closer to the door.

"Stevie!" you practically yell, running towards the blonde man who stands up and opens his arms in time for you to jump on him, hugging him tightly while he raises you in the air and spins a little.

"Good morning, koala bear." he says while chuckling lightly.

"When did you come back?" you ask excitedly after a few minutes of hugging, not letting go just yet.

"Last night." he answered "Nat said you had just gone to sleep, I didn't wanna wake you."

"Steve, what's happening? Is she hurting you?" a voice you've never heard says.

You let go just enough for him to be able to put you back on the ground without letting go of you.

"It's okay, Buck, it's just a hug." he say to the other man as you turn a little to look at him better. He has a confused look on his face, at which Steve adds "It's just a way to express affection, it's fine."

At this you're a little confused yourself so you look at Steve who gives you a look that tells you not to question him, so you don't.

Instead you let go of Steve, turning completely towards his friend and stepping a little closer.

"Hi," you say looking at him and introducing yourself.

He doesn't look very comfortable so you don't try to shake his hand, choosing to wave a little with a smile.

He answers with a quiet "Bucky." while looking at the ground, like he's quite sure if he's even allowed to answer.

You tilt your head to the side, considering him for a second before saying "Do you want a hug, too? I promise I won't hurt you." you add quickly after he raises his head a little and you notice a slightly worried look on his face.

He thinks about it before just shrugging and nodding his head slightly.

"Okay. Do you... want to get up?" you hesitantly ask and he raises his head a little more, still not looking at your face but slowly getting up from his chair.

You glance at Steve who seems very interested in what's happening and is watching intently without making a sound. Your eyes meet for a few seconds and he raises an eyebrow and motions slightly towards his friend as if to tell you to keep going. You nod and get closer to Bucky until you're right in front of him.

You watch him for a couple of seconds and when his head stays lowered you decide to take the lead and move to put your arms around his neck, slowly so as not to startle him.

After several seconds of you gently hugging him while he stands with his arms to his sides, you're about to pull away when you feel him slowly move his arms to your lower back and keep them there lightly, being very careful like he was afraid of hurting you.

You smile a little into his shoulder and wait a couple of minutes before pulling away.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" you tease, your hands still on his shoulders.

He gives you a little smile and finally looks you in the eyes for the first time and, as soon as his eyes meet yours, you're transfixed by how blue they are.

You're not sure how long you two stay looking into each other's eyes, but you're brought back to reality by Bucky's voice.

"Are you okay?" he asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

"Yes? Um... if you ever want another hug I'm always up for it... I love giving hugs." you say smiling and taking your hands off his shoulders as he drops his arms to his sides again.

He drops his gaze to the ground again, while your eyes stay on his face and you see a small smile and a slight nod.

After a few more seconds of looking at him you turn around and start walking towards the fridge, passing Steve and noticing a weird smirk on his face.

"What?" you ask him with a confused look but still smiling.

"Nothing..." he says, still smirking.

"Okay, weirdo." you say back laughing a little.

"Okay, weirdo. Breakfast?" he asked.

"No, I'll just drink some water." you say casually, avoiding his eyes.

"Y/N..." he says warningly.

"It's fine, Stevie, I'm just not hungry." you say, still not looking at him and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

As soon as you turn around you're met with the slightly disappointed face of Steve and the confused face of Bucky.

"Besides I don't have to train until this afternoon..." Steve's worry doesn't fade, so you add "I'll eat something later, I swear." you don't know if he's convinced, but his face softens and he lets it go.

"How about you fill me in about what happened while I was gone?" he says, changing the subject with a sympathetic smile.

"Sure, I'll just take a shower first, is that okay?" He nods and you run to your room to take a quick shower.

After you come out you put on some sweatpants and a sports bra just to not have to change until after training.

You grab a hairbrush and run back downstairs where you find Steve waiting for you alone while sitting at the table.

"Hi koala, that was a quick shower." he says with a smile when he sees you.

You lean with your back to the counter in front of the table he's sitting at and start brushing your still damp hair.

"Yep, you know me it's either 5 minutes or 50." you say smiling while he chuckles. "Where'd your friend go?" you ask casually while concentrating on brushing away a knot in your hair.

"He went to take a shower. Last night he was so tired he practically passed out in the guest room."

You humm a response before asking "So, is he gonna live here now? You know, be a part of the team and all? Tony refused to share any details with me..." you add with disappointment, which you're sure he notices because of his answer.

"Tony's still not 100% okay with it, but he's getting there. You know how he is, he doesn't talk about things until he's finished processing them... anyway yes, he'll live here and eventually be part of the team, I hope."

You look up and think about his words before nodding and waiting for him to speak again, but when he doesn't you try to sound as casual as you can while asking questions about his friend. "Why did you have to tell him what a hug is?"

He doesn't look you in the eye and you know he's getting uncomfortable so you don't really expect him to answer. But he does nonetheless

"Buck's not really been himself for the last 70 years... he hasn't been shown a lot of kindness or humanity. That's why I was surprised that he let you hug him so fast. Don't get me wrong I'm happy about it, it's real progress I just wasn't expecting it so soon..." You let him talk without interrupting, pretending to be more concentrated on your hair than his word so as to not make him even more uncomfortable.

You know stories about Bucky in the 40s from Steve and you have seen photos of him, only in black and white, but it was nothing compared to having him in front of you. Something about him just made you want to know more, like you were drawn to him.

You guess Steve picked up on this because, after a little pause, he adds "Look, I know you want to know more, but it's not my story to tell. If and when he's ready, it's up to him who he wants to tell." damn him for knowing you so well.

Of course you understand what he was saying and you know he's right, so you nod and say "You're right... I won't push it, I promise." before he has time to reply though Bucky enters the kitchen with different clothes and wet hair.

To not let him know you were just talking about him Steve quickly says "So, tell me, what have I missed around here?"

You thought about it for a moment as you watch Bucky make his way through the kitchen and sit at the table next to Steve.

"Um, well, Tony made a new addition to the team. It was very abrupt and it's weird that he's so young, but he's a nice kid. His name is Peter, he's 15 from Queens and apparently he's this Spider-man that's been all over youtube. What?"

As you talked you could see a bit of guilt on Steve's face. "We've met him... didn't know he was a kid though..."

"Well, what happened?" you ask, getting more and more frustrated that no one will tell you anything.

You're part of the team after all, and, even though you don't have powers or are a super soldier, you think you have a right to know why everyone suddenly disappeared one day on some mission that you weren’t allowed to know anything about, and why it took half of the team a couple more weeks than the others to come back.

It's not that it was uncommon for you not to know details of a mission you weren't assigned to, but, since Fury chose you from the SHIELD agents to join the Avengers several years ago, it's never happened that a mission required the WHOLE team except one single person.

What pissed you off even more it's that you're not the youngest in the team, nor are you the newest or the least trained.

You started as a SHIELD agent right before Natasha, granted you were a teenager, but both of you trained a lot together with Clint and you fought alongside the other Avengers in the battle of New York.

You also fought together against Ultron, where you united forces with the Maximoff twins, Wanda and Pietro, (the latter had to spend a lot of time in the medbay after, having almost died) and then also Vision, which is still a little weird since you still have Jarvis controlling the tower.

In all of this time you developed family-like bonds with the whole team.

You honestly consider Tony a father figure, him and Pepper treat you like a daughter and you love them for it. Rhodey, Happy and Bruce are like uncles.

Natasha is like a big sister and Wanda is like a younger one. Clint, Thor and even Loki (since he's been made to spend his exile with you as punishment for New York) have been like big brothers to you, Vision and Pietro are kind of like younger brothers, and now even Peter the last few months.

Scott is another new face that's quickly becoming a chaotic best friend. Sam is like a best friend that still shamelessly flirts with you, after years, obviously knowing nothing is going to happen.

And Steve is your absolute best friend, your favorite brother. He's overprotective (to be fair they all are when it comes to you) and caring, can't really say no to you, spoils you a little and you love every minute of it.

They are your family, and having them keep what feels like a very serious and important situation from you, and only you, not only makes you extremely angry, but it's also very sad to think they don't trust you enough.

Or at least that's what it feels like even though they keep telling you that's absolutely not the case.

You can see how uncomfortable Bucky is getting, while Steve is looking more and more guilty by the second, but neither is saying anything, so you just give up.

"Fine," you say, a little disappointed. "Don't tell me. I guess I'll have to wait on Tony to know."

You don't wait for them to answer as you bring your attention to Bucky.

"Can I?" you ask him while pointing to his hair with the brush that you just finished using on yourself.

He gives just you a confused look, so you explain. "Your hair is pretty long, it would be better if you brushed it before it dries otherwise it hurts like hell to do it later."

He looks at Steve with an uncertain expression, and, when the blonde just shrugs in response, Bucky looks back at you and nods.

You go around the table and position yourself behind Bucky. "I'll be as gentle as I can, but I'm sorry if I hurt you. If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?"

He nods again and you start to slowly and carefully brush his hair while telling Steve all the things you did with the others while he was gone.

The mysterious mission happened about 3 months ago, half of the team came back after a day, the others a couple of weeks later, while Steve and Bucky were the only ones to come back just now.

You tell Steve how you bonded with Peter over being "Tony's children", how Scott became something of a girlfriend and the time you spent with him and his daughter, Cassie, who was just adorable.

You tell him about the weird best friend-like friendship that Peter and Loki developed, much to Tony's annoyance, but that you find very cute and funny.

You tell him about all the pranks that you pulled with anyone and against everyone, specially with Sam, Scott and Loki and against Happy, Clint and Thor.

Steve knows everyone in the team is very quick to forgive you, he always jokes about how you have everyone wrapped around your finger, especially Tony.

And you have to admit, he's not totally wrong. Nobody really stays mad at you for more than a couple of days, and sometimes you're definitely treated like the kid of the family. The golden child.

Even Fury has a soft spot for you, which is very rare, to the point that you're the only one allowed to call him Nick.

You also tell Steve of all the "family time" he missed, which is essentially a whole lot of movie nights, game nights and things like that.

You tell him all the jokes you can remember being said, all the funny moments, all the missions and all the times when you missed him like crazy.

By the time you're done telling him everything you could remember, he's crying laughing and you're almost done with Bucky's hair.

"Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" you ask Bucky, as Steve tries to compose himself, still laughing at the prank you and Sam pulled on Clint where you turned his whole room into a giant bird's nest.

Bucky shakes his head and says a quiet "I'm okay" that you're sure Steve doesn't even hear over his own laughter.

You gently finish brushing his hair, then sit in the chair next to him leaning in and gently turning his head towards you so you can check you did a complete job.

At this point his hair is dry and falling down both sides of his face. You push his hair behind his ears to see his face better and smile, his eyes scanning your face.

Neither of you take notice that Steve has stopped laughing and is watching you with the same smirk he had after you hugged as you're both too intent in taking in each other's appearances.

"Is that better?" you ask after a few minutes of silence.

"What?" he ask, a little confused, which makes you giggle.

"Your hair. Is that better?" you ask again.

"Oh. Yeah, thank you." he says blushing, his voice still very quiet.

"You're adorable." you said with another giggle that makes Steve laugh too, while Bucky blushes even more.

You smile at him again before getting up, giving Steve a kiss on the side of the head while you pass him and going towards the door. "I'll see you guys at lunch. I'm supposed to meet Scott and Cassie in 10 minutes. Bye, Stevie."

"Bye, koala bear." Steve answers.

"Bye, Bucky."

"Bye." he says, still kind of quiet but loud enough for you to hear.

You turn around and give him one last smile before going through the living room to the elevator and to the floor that Scott's now living in and where Cassie spent the night.

part 2

[ppnuggie]

　　　　　　XENOMORPH KING x gn reader

　　　　『　king ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> xeno king hcs | meeting him

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, yautjas are in this universe ,, featuring my ocs panther (yautja talked abt later on in the hcs) & king (the xenomorph ,, briefly mentioned)

　　— here are the hcs :D this is kinda somewhat an introduction to meeting king and more hcs will come soon ,, introducing his brothers of sort ,, im making their refs slowly 😭😭🫡 so hopefully those will be up before i decide to actually turn these hcs into a story n stuff

| • it was an assignment from your higher ups ,, heading to a lesser known "shake and bake" colony located on a distant planet where the habitable zone was way out from the sun surprisingly

| • usually habitable zones for planets would be in the middle ,, but this one was farther out ,, though it also made it more dangerous to be on

| • the winters were hot and the summers were cold ,, temperatures would get quite extreme but for the most part humans could somewhat live on there

| • you were sent with a team of two other scientists ,, along with an android ,, to examine and study the planet more

| • it was on one of your more routinely walks and expeditions around the more countryside of the planet that you stumbled upon something that hadnt been picked up before by scanners or drones

| • abandoned and trashed ,, a lab that was quite dark and gruesome to look at stood in the middle of nowhere on the barren planet

| • you werent too sure of what happened there ,, though it was evident it wasnt anything good judging by all the dried up liquid stains ,, the broken glass and scratches all over the wall

| • some of the furniture and walls looked melted ,, like somewhat poured lava on it and left it there

| • alone on this expedition ,, you took your notes and marked the location on a map of the planet ,, making a mental note to come back soon

| • the more you looked around the more frightening and on edge you became ,, finding skeletal remains of creatures you werent too sure what they were

| • vials were stored away in a broken down freezer ,, or you assumed so based on their labels in an unknown language and strange color

| • there were vials with many strange colors ,, making you second guess if it even was blood inside them ,, vials storing blue and green and orange

| • none looked indigenous ,, as the most the planet had to offer were these strange rodents that burrowed in the ground most the time ,, almost like those naked molerats from your own home planet ,, except these ones werent as terrifying to look at

| • though the more on edge you became the more curious you got ,, wondering what happened here exactly

| • documents were spilt on the ground ,, scattered about and dirtied up ,, some ripped apart and some with strange prints on them

| • without much of a second thought you took them ,, hoping that maybe you could decode the foreign language and figure out what was happening in this place before it became abandoned

| • you gathered what you could of the place ,, taking a few of the vials and gathering photo evidence of the area

| • while doing so ,, you werent aware of the fact you were being watched ,, stalked and observed by an unknown creature in the vicinity

| • when you got back to the base and showed your findings your crewmates were interested ,, the android apart of your team quickly recognizing the language in the documents

| • it belonged to these creatures called 'yacht-ja' ,, or something of those sorts ,, but he wasnt able to provide much else about the documents other than that

| • you planned to go back to the lab the next week ,, wanting to gather as much information on the area as you could before you left the planet and headed back to the mothership

| • after all ,, you were here for only research and study ,, all your findings on the planet would be taken back aboard the mothership for examination and peer review from other scientists aboard

| • the goal was to gather as many samples as possible ,, document as much as you could ,, and return to your station to head to another planet and repeat the process

| • packing a large lunch in case you stayed longer than expected ,, or did too much running around and had little food ,, you headed off back towards the lab with storage for as much information and to store as many samples as possible

| • your camera was ready ,, taking as many pictures as you could whilst also grabbing more vials from the lab itself ,, storing them away in your vehicular device to take back

| • you didnt pay too much attention to the time ,, more focused and fascinated with the lab around you ,, documenting all the rooms and trying to map out exactly how big it was

| • though something about the place did feel uneasy ,, almost like you werent meant to be here at all in the first place

| • not focusing too much on the feeling you continued ,, going through all the documents and photographing the bright green stains on the wall from who knows what

| • there were a few times you thought you saw something in the corner of your eye ,, almost like a figure yet when you looked there was nothing there ,, like a ghost was playing tricks on you

| • the longer you stayed ,, the more uneasy and skeptical you became of the place ,, not feeling the once comforting and interest as last week

| • when you had finished you gathered your equipment to head back to the base ,, noticing how cold and dark it had gotten and hoping you'd be back in time before the base was put on a lockdown for the night ,, usually for safety precautions as not much was known about the nightlife on the planet

| • unbeknownst to you the scene you would come back to ,, a foreign ship not of any human making was perched ontop of some of the houses whilst the rest of the place was up in flames

| • those yautja creatures you'd been told about earlier had visited ,, wreaking havoc wherever they went as they quickly went through all the humans living there ,, killing them quickly

| • with the base nowhere in sight you didnt bother sticking around ,, heading away from the place and into the countryside once again

| • though it wouldnt help ,, being followed by one of the creatures as they latched onto your vehicle and slashed at the metal and tires ,, quickly putting an end to your escape a few miles away

| • dark skin clashed well with his bright purple stripes ,, large scar over his eye and covering his body in general ,, with a bright colored chest

| • he didnt stare for too long before trying to get at you ,, chittering something in his language as he slashed away at your windows

| • adrenaline filled you ,, now positioned in a fight or flight situation and your gut told you to flee at that moment ,, crawling over the passenger seat and exiting out the door as you made a run for it into a nearby forest

| • it wasnt too difficult for the yautja to keep up ,, right on your tail as he ran after you

| • though his chase would be cut short ,, a large creature coming from out of the bushes and tackling him

| • too worried you'll be next ,, you didnt bother to stop and look back ,, continuing to run even though your legs burned and your lungs were on fire from how much cold air you were breathing

| • somehow you ended up at that same lab ,, almost like it was tied to you now that youve discovered it

| • it felt like a scene from coraline ,, where she walks away from the house and towards where the old well would be except it all turns white

| • though there wasnt no white barren land here ,, just the same abandoned lab

| • you weren't complaining though ,, as you'd rather be somewhere sheltered than out in the open ,, making your way through the maze of rooms and hallways before settling in a far away one

| • you collapsed to the floor ,, panting heavily as you shivered ,, sweat gathered at your forehead from the running and sudden near death experience

| • your eyes felt heavy ,, drowsy and exhausted yet you stayed awake ,, keeping guard and not trusting yourself to sleep in this place ,, not when there was too much happening

| • without your knowing ,, you had fallen asleep and left defenseless in the room ,, the creature that had taken out the yautja had followed you there

| • it gazed at your sleeping form ,, noticing your unconscious shivering and making a decision in its mind

| • curling its tail around your body ,, warmth slowly started to surround your body ,, somewhat ceasing your shivering

| • it could only wait for you awaken ,, resting its head on the cold ,, harsh ground as it kept you company through the night

[fullsunrise]

Smoothie - Part 1 (M)

Word count: 2.8k

Pairing: Jeno x Original female character x Jaemin

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Porn with some plot, Dom!Jeno, Dom!Jaemin, OC is an inexperienced sub, BSDM elements, oral (m receiving), both Jaemin and Jeno are mean, barely proof read (sorry!)

Summary: After signing up on a BDSM community website on a whim, Jinhae has her first BDSM experience with Jeno and Jaemin.

Looking around the quiet Seoul neighborhood, Jinhae wanted to make sure she had the right address. There was nothing strange about the gated house that stood in front of her, and that's precisely why she could feel her stomach flip. How could two seemingly normal men own a home and also find the time to indulge? Was this just a pastime of theirs and during the day they were unassuming business men? Seoul felt like such a small place and the thought of running into them unknowingly sent shivers down her spine. 

Jinhae was way in over her head. She was about to turn around on her heels if it weren't for the click of the gate unlocking. All and any nerves she had quickly vanished when perhaps the prettiest man she's ever seen smiled gently at her. 

“Hi, you must be Jinhae, correct?”

“Yes, and you are…?”

“I'm Jaemin. Jeno is inside waiting. Would you like to come inside?”

Even though she was clearly here, standing in front of him on her very own free will, he still gave her the opportunity to leave. Maybe it was his hospitable demur or the way his cardigan fell ever so slightly off his shoulder revealing a toned bicep, but Jinhae could’ve sworn she was put under a trance.

“Sure,” she said with an equally kind smile that reflected the beaming grin from Jaemin.

The interior of the house was surprisingly modern yet it still lived in. Clean, but warm and homey. The smell of fresh linen hit her nose and Jinhae couldn't  help but let out a sigh of content. 

Jaemin was quick to pick up on her relaxed state as he hummed in reply. “I'll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled as he plopped himself on the couch. 

Jinhae couldn't help but soak in his figure as his arm draped around the back cushion and he crossed one leg over the other. For a second, she almost forgot where she was and why she was here. As if reading her mind, Jaemin motioned for her to sit down on the armchair across from him. 

“Is this your first time?”

“Is it that easy to tell?” She laughed nervously. 

“Not really, but you do seem a bit more relaxed than some of my previous relationships.”

“Have others bolted?”

He let out a hearty laugh, “Not many, but I’ve had some that were super jumpy and skittish.”

“Did they not understand what they were in for?” It seemed like an innocent enough question and Jinhae didn't intend for it to sound like she knew what to expect either. So when his warm smile dropped from his face, Jinhae knew maybe it was the wrong question to ask. 

“I’ll let you be the judge of that, sweetheart,” he said in a deep tone. His eyebrows were raised in a way that she could only describe as predatory. Her heart dropped in her stomach at how quickly his attitude changed. 

Before she could reply, footsteps echoed from beyond her chair until they stopped right behind her. The looming presence of the unknown figure was almost too much to ignore. The smell of warm cinnamon barely reached her nose when the man suddenly cleared his throat. 

“Are you going to introduce me to our lovely guest?”

“I’m sure she can introduce herself,” Jaemin said as his head cocked slightly to the right as if to say don't be shy, he doesn't bite.

The man then made his way around her, almost circling her like she was nothing but a mere sitting duck. When he sat down next to Jaemin, Jinhae could feel her mouth slowly part in awe. His facial features were a bit more rough than Jaemin. In part due to his short, blonde hair that made his stare feel a bit more intense. This must be Jeno, Jinhae thought. 

“You could stare all day if you want, but we're not going anywhere,” he teased. 

“I’m Jinhae. Nice you meet both of you,” she whispered as she sucked in a breath. With every passing minute, her nerves only grew. 

“That's a beautiful name,” Jaemin chimed in as he looked at Jeno in confirmation. Jeno endearingly smiled in response before he let his attention fall on Jinhae. 

The silence engulfed the three of them and Jinhae couldn’t help but feel like she was on display. Absent-mindedly, she uncrossed and crossed her ankles. It was nothing but a nervous habit of hers, but with the circumstances of her visit, she quickly noticed how Jeno licked his lower lip. 

“No need to be nervous, darling,” Jaemin said with a sweet smile, but it wasn't the same as the one he greeted her with. No, this one had a sinister tinge that did nothing but settle her nerves. 

“We're just going to ask you a few questions before we start the session. It’s only our first meeting so we're not going to do anything intense yet,” Jeno calmly said, his voice more soothing than she expected it to be.  

“Is that okay?” Jaemin asked as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. 

“Yes, I’m okay with that.” How could she not be? There were multiple times in the entire process where she could have easily opted out. From creating a profile, to filling out a very extensive questionnaire, and finally being matched with the very two men in front of her. It was a crazy scenario she only fantasized about in the comfort of her own sheets. Now that she was here, reality began to sink in. It was really happening. Right here. Right now. 

“Good,” Jaemin nodded in approval, leaning back into the couch.

“Is there anything you don't want us to do? Anything you're uncomfortable with?” Jeno asked curiously. 

“I don't think there's anything in particular,” she started, “I’m pretty new to all of this so I guess I’m willing to try anything until I know I don't like it.” 

It was a silly question, Jinhae thought. They must've read her answers before agreeing to meet her, right? Was this just a formality?

“Great,” Jaemin said, “Do you want to choose your word? It can be anything, really,” he added. 

Ah, that. She tried to come up with one earlier, but everything sounded so ridiculous. Maybe she was simply overthinking. Perhaps there was something around their house that would inspire her. Nothing crazy, maybe even ordinary. But to her dismay, the house was virtually spotless. Or at least that's what she thought if it wasn't for the half-empty cup on the kitchen counter. 

“Smoothie.”

This earned a deep and genuine chuckle from Jeno. Jinhae was unsure why he laughed, after all she wasn't trying to be funny. Jaemin followed her line of vision and when he found the same cup she spotted on the counter, she could almost see his patience leave his eyes. It was obvious it wasn't because of her, but instead his bubbling anger was aimed directly at the blonde haired man beside him.

“Sounds great,” Jaemin said through gritted teeth, forcing a wavering smile. He flashed a glare towards Jeno, wiping the shit-eating grin off the latter. It was only a small glimpse of their dynamic yet Jinhae wondered how close they actually were. 

“Now Jaemin, you know that's not the way we act around our guests,” Jeno teased.

“You're right, I’ll deal with you later,” Jaemin calmly agreed before looking back over at Jinhae. “Sorry about that, believe it or not we do actually live together.”

“How long have you two known each other?” It was a futile attempt at easing the tension in the room, but Jinhae couldn't help it. She was just curious.

“”I don't believe I said you can ask any questions,” Jaemin quickly replied. And in one swift motion all the attention was back on her. There was nowhere to hide now. Jinhae attempted to apologize for overstepping, but Jeno cut her off.

“He's right. You know you're lucky you're cute,” he said coldly, “Hides the fact you’re secretly a brat who can't follow basic instructions.”

Fuck. 

Jaemin sighed, “It's a shame, we thought you were smarter than that.” Jinhae tried to defend herself, but her words failed her. No sounds came out except a sigh of defeat. 

“Use your words, now,” Jeno instructed. 

“Don't get flustered on us, we’re just making sure you follow the rules.” Jaemin assured her, but Jinhae couldn't help but feel embarrassed by her impulses. 

“You're right. I’m sorry,” Jinhae said. No need to fight against it. If it were a normal conversation she would've cursed them out by now. But she had to remind herself that this was part of it. 

“It's okay, better to get it out of your system now while we're being nice,” Jaemin said, his face returning to that sickeningly sweet smirk that made uneasiness pool in her stomach. 

This was being nice? It was crazy how effective their words were. Jinhae couldn't believe how smoothly they were able to gain control of the conversation and put her in her place. To remind her of who she was in this relationship. No, not as an equal. Her role was to be subservient. Questioning their commands would be seen as rude and would lead to punishment. It was supposed to deter her, but the thought alone of them punishing her only left wetness in its wake.  

“Don't get any ideas, sweetheart.” Jeno stated, an eyebrow quirked. “Trust me, it won't be fun for you.”

Jinhae wanted so badly to challenge him. But there was no need, because they all knew that she would in fact enjoy it. All of it.

“But you want to find out, don't you?” Jaemin perked up. 

“Of course she does, look at the way she's practically squirming in her seat.” Jeno chuckled mockingly.

“No need to deny it, babe.” Jaemin grinned deviously. “You can tell us, we promise we won't get mad at you.”

“Play nice, Jaemin.” Jeno warned. But Jaemin’s face only grew more sinister as he leaned in closer. 

“I bet you're soaked right now, darling.”

And there it was. The dampness in her underwear was borderline uncomfortable now, his words only making it worse. It would be so easy to lie to them that she didn't want to find out. But this? She was stepping into a landmine. One wrong move could have her sprawled across their laps, her skirt at her ankles. It sounded so delicious, both of them touching her at the same time. It was electrifying and she could feel the warmth dance across her cheeks.

On one hand, the idea of being rewarded for being good sounded heavenly. But the idea of being bent over and having her ass slapped sounded intoxicating. Jaemin and Jeno might be the ones calling the shots, but she was also in control. They weren't the only ones playing games. 

“I can't help it,” she whispered as the red heat brightened on her cheeks. To really sell it, she rubbed her thighs together. Partly for herself and mostly because she knew they would eat it up. It was like they were smacked across their faces, leaving behind no trace of amusement.

“Aw babe, you look really flushed. Do you need help?” Jaemin said. Jinhae might’ve mistaken his concern to be real if it weren't for the fact that his dick was straining against his pants. 

“Y-yeah, I don’t feel so good,” Jinhae said, pressing the back of her hand against her temple. Might as well give them a performance. 

“You must be so hot in that sweater, too,” Jeno added, but his stare was entranced at her chest. Ah, so that's how it was going to be? Jinhae didn't think her innocent act would get them this riled up, but it gave her an extra boost of confidence to keep going.

“So warm,” she huffed as she pulled the sweater over her head to reveal her satin camisole underneath. It draped just perfectly over her bust and thin enough to show her nipples. Jaemin gave Jeno a glance and he nodded in approval without breaking his stare on her newly revealed skin. 

“We’ll help you, but first you need to show us how much of a good girl you are. Can you do that for us, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” Jinhae replied, rubbing her thighs together again. This time in anticipation. As she rose from her position on the chair, Jeno quickly shot up and placed his hands on her shoulders to lower her back down. 

“Ah-ah, did we say you could get up?”

“No, sorry.”

Jeno chuckled as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Let's try that one more time. Did we say you can get up?”

“N-no, sir,” she whispered. Shit, with a voice like that how could anyone not comply?

“That's more like it, darling. Now, let's hope you don't forget next time.” Jeno said softly, but his tone was contrasted by the abrupt clinking sound of his belt. 

“Now you're gonna show Jeno how much you deserve it. Isn’t that right, angel?” Jaemin said lazily from his seat on the couch. 

“Yes, sir,” Jinhae said with confidence, but it quickly faltered when Jeno snickered. 

“Looks like this one is messing with you,” Jeno laughed, pulling his tank over his head. Fuck, of course he was ripped. Jinhae would have ogled a bit longer if they let her. 

“She’ll learn quickly not to do that,” Jaemin replied, his voice increasing in volume, his tone borderline threatening. 

Clueless. Jinhae felt utterly clueless as to what she did wrong now. Did he not like to be addressed as Sir? If not that, then what? It wasn't exactly fair that they never mentioned it to her before they started. It had to be on purpose. 

“Don't act like you didn't do anything wrong, now,” Jeno said, pulling his jeans down to his ankles, just now in his briefs. “You can make it up to him, but first I need you to open your mouth nice and wide.”

Without hesitating, she did exactly as instructed. Jeno let out a deep grunt in approval before he roughly grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up at him. 

“Such a pretty mouth,” he mused to himself. 

“Do you think she's gonna suck you well?” Jaemin chimed in. He only watched from his position on the couch, still clothed. Like he was waiting patiently for his turn. 

“I know she will, cause she loves sucking dick. Hmm?”

“Yes, sir.”

He let out a guttural groan of satisfaction at her reply. Then, he finally took off his briefs. Jinhae was practically drooling at the sight of his erection, but didn't have much time before he forced his way into her. Nothing could prepare for the fullness she felt in her mouth. When he began to thrust without hesitation, it burned. 

It was obvious he didn't care that each time he hit the back of her throat she let out a cry. In fact, it made him speed up his pace as he roughly fucked her throat. The burning sensation only grew and tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She was such a mess. And she loved it. 

“Such a good fucking slut,” Jeno cried in pleasure as his moans and lewd sounds coming from her mouth filled the living room. 

“She’s such a whore for dick,” Jaemin said as Jeno neared his release. “Isn't that right, baby girl?” Jinhae could barely let out a sound. The only noise she could muster was a barely inaudible “hmm”. But that only sent Jeno over the edge. It all happened so quickly, one second she was trying to reply to Jaemin, the next Jeno released inside her mouth. 

“Show us how good girls swallow,” Jaemin ordered, his eyes locked with hers. She did as told, feeling  the hot liquid move down her throat. Jeno slowly took his dick out, his movements less harsh than before.

“Now I believe good girls who do what they're told get to come,” Jeno mused as he flashed her a devilish grin. 

“I don't think we should let her, Jeno,” Jaemin quipped as he finally stood up from the couch. “After all, she made a lot of rookie mistakes today.”

“Ah, you want to play with her?” Jeno asked, his eyes never leaving hers. She was so entranced in his stare that she didn't notice Jaemin move around so that he was now behind her. 

“I think it would be nice to see if our kitten is willing to beg for it,” Jaemin mused as his hands began to massage her neck. 

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Jeno replied. He cradled her jaw in the palm of his hand gently before it slowly snaked towards the strap of her camisole. 

[romanstheory]

Mine All Mine

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, language, Jey x OC

Word Count: 2,340

18+

Person In The Picture

"Destiny you've performed in front of thousands of people before why are you nervous now?" My manager says as we walk out of the building after signing my WWE contract. "This is different I belong on stage singing and dancing, I'm not sure i belong in a wrestling ring no matter how long i've trained" My stomach twists, I've been a WWE fan my entire life and I've always wanted to get in the ring but man am I nervous. There's so much that could go wrong, so that could happen. "Then pretend you're dancing and singing in the wrestling ring. You were made for this, Des". I inhale deeply before we both get in the car.

Today is it... my debut. I've been told to arrive early and see Hunter in his office to discuss how my debut will be going. Up until now i've been left in the dark and I can only assume it's because they have no idea what to do with me. I've been under contract for months and people have been whispering and gossiping about how I will be introduced. Hands in my oversized sweatpants I walk to Hunter's office, knocking twice before being invited in. "Hey Destiny, how are you?" hunter says looking over his glasses. "I'm great, and yourself?" I reply before sitting in one of the two chair in front of the big desk. It smells like one of those mahogany candles in here, so strong it slaps you in the face.

"So as you already know you will be debuting today" He begins "But in order to slowly introduce you to the craft we're going to have you tag with someone.... Someone who is late now". Hunter annoyingly looks at the clock on the wall behind me and then at the door that is now swinging open. "I'm so sorry boss man the traffic out there was cr-" Jey says walking into the room, eyes darting to me for a second... a long, long second and then to Hunter. "Am I really that late?" Jey asks "I can come back...". Hunter rubs his temples and chuckles to himself "No man just take a seat. This is Destiny, you probably know her from her music but she's going to be debuting tonight and that's what I wanted to talk to you both about". Jey and I nod at each other.

I would be the worlds biggest liar if I said I wasn't secretly scanning him from head to toe. Cut off cropped shirt, joggers, and jordans. So simple but somehow so sexy. "So... Jey you've been around for quite a while now" He begins "And the crowd loves you. I want you and Destiny here to team tonight. We will see how it goes tonight, but I think Jey would be the perfect person to show you the ropes. Any push back, suggestions, anything?" I remain painfully silent.... What am I going to say? Throw me in the ring alone? Jey looks at me and then back at Hunter "I want the ring reserved for us alone two hours before every RAW live event". It wasn't a suggestion, but a demand. "If we're going to do it we're doing it the right way". Hunter nods and says it's done. He picks up his phone and i'm assuming sends out a text to have whoever clear the ring. "How is two and a half tonight? Extra thirty to adjust". I inhale deeply "Sounds good to me" I say softly

---

"You know how to take a bump?" Jey asks me resting his weight against the ropes. "Yeah I've been training for months" I reply quickly "I know the basics but I'm not confident". Poking his bottom lip out he nods his head. For an hour we run the ropes practicing out joint move set, building my tolerance for taking bumps, getting our hearts pumping. My confidence quickly builds while we practice over and over again for our time in the ring. "Not bad, turn it up when it's really go time though" Jey says locking eyes with me, chest raising and falling quickly while his body recovers.

"Do you ever get nervous when you go out here?" I ask, sitting in the middle of the rings staring at the empty seats that will soon be full. In the center of this ring I feel so small, so minoot in the grand scheme of this show. Jey sits next to me, legs crossed "Every night, If you don't then you ain't doing it right". I lay back in the ring and cover my face with my hands. "I'm really about to do this.... I'm REALLY about to do this" I say out loud but more to myself. "Yeah and it's time to go get ready" Jey softly pats my thigh sending electric through my body.

---

Quickly I put my gear on, adrenaline pumping through my veins before I amp myself up even more. We are closing the show, the match has been hyped up all night long... Pressure is on. Jey has done his own thing all night, and I've become acquainted with the other women in the locker room. I make my way to the curtain when Jey's music hits. "Just pretend like you're dancing and singing in a WWE ring" I say to myself under my breath when my music finally comes on. The curtain opens and I swear I walked straight into heaven. The lights were bright, fans loud, music blaring. And my mind shuts off but my body moves.

Flexing, interacting with the fans, soaking everything up. And there goes Jey at the bottom of the ramp like he promised he would be so I didn't have to go into the room alone. Jey mouths the word "wow" while his eyes scan my body, stopping at my ass for longer than a moment. He sits on the ropes allowing me easy access into the ring and the match begins.

Jey is in the ring obliterating Chad Gable when Auska tries to interfere. Before she can I deliver a super kick. The match was well received getting us "this is awesome" chants over and over again. Jey's music blasts as the crowd sings along. Quickly I get on the top rope, Jey directly behind me as we do his signature arm movement to hype the crowd up even more. Incredible.... It was all so incredible and I think I'm already addicted to the high the crowd just gave me. Itching for more I cannot wait until next week.

Backstage I jump into Jey's arms, squealing in excitement. "That was amazing!" Tightly I wrap my arms around him. "You were amazing" He replies. "We have to stay together! They loved us together! We could do so much, take over RAW even!" Excitement overtakes every part of me. "You might be onto something" He replies with a smirk, putting me down, hands slightly grazing my ass but I don't mine or even acknowledge it and neither does he. I've found myself wanting to be close to him all the time. And the way he makes my spot purr.... How could I stay away.

---

Weeks pass and we main event every show, captivating the fans together every Monday night and every house show we attend. Jey and I have become closer and closer every week. Traveling together, staying at the same hotels, eating at new places together, slight flirting every now and again. Tonight we're in my hometown and my entire immediate family will be there front row. I've updated my attire to be blue and black to coordinate with Jey, we look like a real team now. We arrive at the hotel "Give me like five minutes and then come to the room" Jey says stopping in the middle of the hotel lobby. Typically we share a room to cut costs, two bed or he takes to couch if only one is available. I huff and gesture for him to go on.

Five minutes later exactly he texts me telling me to come up, do I do. Swiping my room key I slowly open the door. "Jey?" I close the door softly behind me. The light are off despite the flickering of what I can only assume is a candle around the corner. "I figured you could use some relaxing" He says softly putting his hand around my waist, guiding me around the corner to reveal my favorite wine, chocolate, and blue roses, of course they're blue. A grin spreads across my face, this seems intimate, romantic even but it's sweet nonetheless. "This is beautiful! Thank you" I coo. We drain our glasses and eat the chocolate but I keep catching him staring at me.

"What are you looking at?" I joke before leaning back on my elbows. "You" Is all he says in return, his eyes stuck on mine as if they're glued together. "I'm always looking at you" Is this.... Is this really happening right now? Sitting up, I crawl onto his lap "And what do you think about when you look at me?" I purr into his ear. I can feel him growing under me. "First I thought about what you looked like under those sweatpants, now I wanna lay you across this bed and see what you look like when you cum" He replies eyes still locked on mine. Warmth rips through my body settling into my middle. I knew it, I knew he kept looking at me that day in Hunter's office but I never had the balls to straight up ask him.

Pressing my lips onto his, he slides his hands under my loose shirt exploring my body. "I've been waiting for this" He whispers into my lips. His hands rest on my ass, squeezing it, moving it so I jiggle on top of him. Jey plants soft kisses on my jaw and neck, lightly licking in between. My hands trail through his freshly cut hair. He smells so damn good. My body aches for him, the feel of him, to be close to him. His lips trail my body like he's hungry for me the way I am for him. His hands grip my ass and thighs firmly before he lays my back onto the bed, standing, looking at my body. i slide my clothes off, giving him a show before laying back on the bed. His swollen member struggles against his joggers. "Damn Des..." Jey says, mouth slightly open.

He undresses himself, sliding his boxers off, his fully erect member springing free. I gasp at his size gaining me a chuckle from him. Hovering over me he kisses me deeply, passionately before taking my breast into his mouth. I moan softly, closing my eyes while his tongue circles my nipple, nipping it slightly sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Jey looks up at me and I swear I can see a fire burning behind his eyes. I want him so bad this might just be enough for me to meet my undoing. "Please" I whisper, his eyes still locked on mine "I need you now". My breast leaves him mouth with a 'pop' before he grabs my legs, throwing them over his shoulder. His member teases my entrance, I can feel the warmth from his body so close to mine I want to push him into me myself.

"Des" Jey says, I hum in response "You are incredible... God damn you're perfect" Hungrily he scans my body again before pushing himself into me slowly. I gasp at his size "Are you okay? Should I stop?" Jey asks sweetly. I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. "Keep going, I need you" I whisper. He continues pushing his length into me until out bodies are flush together and his sits there allowing me time to adjust. Slowly he begins pulling out and pressing back in, groaning, gripping my legs tightly. Loud moans escape me "Oh my god!" I moan. Jey presses his lips into an 'o' shape before spewing out curse words over and over again. His strokes feel passionate, calculated, and like he cares more about me finishing than him.

Jey presses my legs up to my chest allowing him to go deeper into me causing me to let out a lustful yelp. His tattoos flex and move iwth each stroke, god his beautiful tattoos.... and his arms. I swear this man is perfect in every single way. My eyes drift from his body to his face that now hovers just above mine, sweat collecting at his brow. I pull his lips to mine and kiss him like I love him while he strokes me long and deep. Fireworks explode between us and as if he felt it too both of our eyes shoot open only to close again before our kisses got sloppier. Tongues loop and battle back and fourth, his stokes get faster and suddenly both of us are loud. "Ahh! Fuck! Mhhh! You feel so good" Jey groans "This is mine. Only mine!"

Curse words leave my mouth, I can barely form a thought. "O- FUCK JEY! O-only y-yours" I groan back. "This pussy is mine and only mine" He groans in my ear. Fuck! I reach my climax, my vision blurs and my body trembles as he continues stroking me, pressing deeply into me before releasing his load into me. He presses his arms into the bed on either side of me, panting just like I am. "I meant that. I need this... You to be all mine." He says through his breaths. "I did too" I say breathlessly. The rest of the night I spend in Jey's arms watching movies and telling jokes. Of all of the places in this world I've been in his arms is my favorite. And to think, weeks ago he was coaching me, comforting me and now he is mine... all mine.

[calamiitywrites]

— qimir x reader

trigger warning: graphic scenes and descriptions of violence, blood and death. please proceed with caution.

request via ask: "I actually would like to request a one shot or maybe even a story where the reader ( or an oc doesn't matter ) is hunting Jedi for her own reasons and is on her way to becoming a sith, but she's terrified of her force because it's not only powerful, but full of rage so needless to say it stems from the dark side. I don't want her to replace Osha or Mae, in fact I want them included in the story. however, I do want Qimir to end up teaching this character. Add some seduction of course, some mystery and I want it from the character's pov. I know this idea is all over the place and I'm not giving you much to work with but I would definitely like to see him interact with this character who could learn a lot from him but has the potential to be a stand alone character herself."

note from author: I think I understand the gist of what you're requesting so I will definitely interpret it in my own way. Please let me know if this is what you had in mind :) also, sorry it's so long, I had to introduce the character first haha!- calamiity

There's a distant hum that tickles at her brainstem and finds itself traveling down to the pit of her stomach. she should be weary of this sensation because it was nothing more than the force riddling through her body. decorating her veins in a fire that could coat the 7 levels of hell in different degrees of flame. What kind of beast had she become to worship a power that made her feel this way? The moonlight, a silvered blade slicing through the night did nothing to hide her or shield the outside world from seeing what she truly was, a beast in human form. it whispered to the stars about her, but the sky was her only companion. Without judgement, It listened to her battle cries and the pleas of the Jedi that she cut down mercilessly. Crimson clung to her robes and dripped slowly down the exposed pieces of her face outlined by the fabric that covered her nose and lips. the deep red of it was in complete contrast to the darkness reflected in her irises. She had allowed the force to nearly consume her from the inside out and the eerie abundance of obsidian that nearly took over her entire vision told her that she had gone too far tonight. Her power — a forbidden curse with a seductive allure. The force must be exercised and properly managed, but the emotions beneath the surface of her consciousness were far too powerful for tradition. Wrath, Loss, Pain and Vengeance. They all danced the danse macabre within her soul, drenching it in affliction. there was no turning back now. Her veins were like molten lava, but they were chilled by the sound of the whimpering jedi that lay at her feet. Before she could stop herself, her eyes wandered to the delicate skin under his chin and she could feel the power of the force expand and contract around his throat. It took half of a second for her to realize that he was choking. a gentle tilt of her head was the only give away to her true curiosity. could she really end his life this way? how long would it take? A thread, a piercing silver stream of light slid through the forefront of her mind and she followed it. It broke off to her left and her eyes caught movement behind the shop window that sat uncloaked. It occurred to her that the 4 jedi she had murdered in front of the shop window was witnessed by someone. rather or not she was wearing a mask didn't matter, the idea of being seen in her most volatile state nearly made her shutter. however, there was no turning back now. With the distraction of the hidden bystander, the once choking jedi had gotten up and began sneaking away. She couldn't let that happen. Refocusing, she retrieved his lightsaber and ignited it with deliberate slowness. Aligning her gaze with his position, she extended her left arm to match his height, letting the dark blue blade hover above her other hand. Once she was certain of her aim, she harnessed the Force and propelled his saber like an arrow. It flew straight and true, embedding itself in the center of his back and causing him to collapse lifelessly where he stood. She turned back to the glass in search of the movement that she had seen before, but there was nothing. although she was sure that the person was still there, there was no reason to pursue them. instead, she flexed her force once more to create a smoke screen and vanish into the night where she had come. The night’s embrace was both her refuge and her torment, and as the echoes of her power faded into the void, she was left with the haunting realization that the greatest battle she would ever face was not against her foes, but against the seduction of her own darkness.

Her ragged gasps were the only thing that filled her ears as she removed the bloodstained robes that clung to her skin. A bath would do her some good, but it wasn’t until she was completely bare that she noticed the weight missing from her belt—the sai dagger made from cortosis was gone. Panic surged through her as she realized she must have dropped it during the chaos. however, she couldn't go back to that shop now. the bystander from before had already seen her cloaked figure, if she chanced it now then he would most likely get a glimpse of her. her best bet would be to return in the morning disguised as a merchant.

At first light she followed through with her plan to return to the shop where she had committed the atrocities from the night prior. it was strange to see that the fallen jedi had been removed, the ground cleaned and the sound of murmuring voices questioning if the chaos they heard about last night was even real. "I heard it was a rumor." said one store vendor. "No way, there have been many Jedi killings over the past few days. You heard about that cloaked figure that went after Indara a few nights back?" another spoke.

She paused for a brief moment at the name, she had never killed a jedi named Indara....perhaps there was another seeking out revenge? either way, it made her job easier. one less monkey for the zoo.

"I heard it was a drunk bar fight that went wrong and that they turned on each other." she chimed in. if everyone was going to put out some gossip, she might as well add her tidbit to throw them off a bit.

"There have been a lot of them spotted at the pub lately." the older woman agreed.

She hid the half hearted smile that graced her lips when she turned away from them, but her heart sank as she locked eyes with her missing dagger prominently displayed, as if it were for sale, in the window of the shop from last night. The idea of it being displayed as a trinket for someone to snag it nearly made her mouth run dry. She knew she had to retrieve it before the blade—or its significance—fell into the wrong hands. but how?

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridget x fem! Oc

Knight! AU, in which Athene has been captivated by the princess.

"My princess, you know I'm assigned to keep you safe, I can't just-!" Athene tried, like every morning, to get the royal to allow her to keep her place at her side, a place she'd do anything to keep.

"But.. i'm just going out with Ella! Just take the day off!" Bridget, ever the sweetheart, really just wanted her to have -another- day off and just go off just Ella.

"Princess-!"

"Bridget."

"Princess Bridget, please, allow me to do my job for just one day, i'll be in your shadow for the whole day." Like every other day.

"... okay, but you have to help me carry these!" Bridget held up two trays of cupcakes, and Athene took them from her with a smile.

"Anything for my princess."

"Atheneeeeeee!"

-

"Go walk by the princess, i'll take that from you." Athene replaced Ella with pushing the cart, the girl shooting her a grateful look before speeding up a bit to match Bridget's pace as she walked with the new students.

"Soooo, who are you?" Chloe eventually asked, looking at Athene, who had noticed Red anxiously glancing at her.

"That's Athene! She's the head of my royal guard, my parents hired the best magic swordsman there was!" Bridget proudly introduced, Athene looked over at her as she spoke, her gaze softened significantly.

"She's the captain of my mom's guard, she's always at her side, it's the brunette that was standing next to us when we sat down." Red whispered to Chloe, who's eyes widened as they glanced between Athene and Bridget.

"I'm glas I at least add to your pride, else I would be here for nothing." Athene chuckled, handing her princess another tray of cupcakes to hand out.

"They're not...?" Chloe mumbled to Red, who shook her head.

"Together? Dating? No, I thought she was hooked back in our time but this is probably even worse, I mean i can just-." She waved her hand through the air in a cutting motion.

"Uliana." Athene stepped closer to Bridget, looming over her shoulder, a good head taller than her and taking full advantage.

"Bridget." Uliana hissed out, Red noticed how Athene almost lunged at her, but Bridget reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, which was so out of character for her mom she almost fainted, but then again this was all very weird so why not.

"Why don't you put a leash on your guard dog, mh?" Morgie barked at her when Hook finished his sentence, Athene giving him a deadpanned stare.

"Uliana, I'm asking you to be mindful of the magical repercussions." Athene gave a second warning to the sea witch, who rolled her eyes and ate all of the feathers.

"My princess, if you'd allow me-." She was about to pick Bridget up to jump onto the balcony and get her to safety, but Ella had already rushed her away and was gesturing for the others to follow.

"Oh... right."

"Why does she look so sad, oh my god i'm gonna cry!" Chloe had tears in her eyes as she watched Athene swallow, probably extremely happy to finally get to show her loyalty.

"Oh this is perfect!" Red groaned, dragging Chloe with as she left the knight.

-

"Princess!" Athene rushed up to the huddle of girls, immediately kneeling before hers.

"Oh my gosh Athene! You don't have to kneel!" Bridget immediately crouched down, and Athene looked up at her.

"I failed at my duty to get you to safety, I should have acted faster and stopped it from happening completely." Ella sighed, she knew she should've let Athene handle it, the girl would be beating herself up about this for ages now.

"Oh no! No no no! It's not-! You did great Athene! You should take the rest of the day off to do your homework! Get ready for castlecoming... who're you going with by the way?" Athene swallowed at that, slowly standing up, holding her princess' hands in hers, softly cradling them.

"About that, would you do me the honour of g-?"

"My god, that was fucking amazing! You were amazing out there Ella, you too Bridget!" Charming appeared and ruined the moment that the two future kids were waiting for.

"The only time I don't like my father." Chloe whispered to Red under her breath, watching the dance her mom did around getting asked out directly.

"Yeah, that was pretty damn sad." Red answered, clearly not as pressed about this as Chloe, who wanted to see them get their true love.

"How about we go together? As friends, of course." Ella said the last part too late for Bridget, who was flushed red and trying not to faint at the idea of going with her crush.

"Oh that sounds amazing! We have to go dress shopping! We only have two days left!!" Ella looked over at Athene apologetically, who was clenching her jaw, and hands, her knuckles whiter than snow as she glared at Chloe's mom.

She was about to grit her teeth at the bluenette when Bridget turned around with a huge grin and a blush that could shame tomatoes, dragging Athene away to search for a dress.

"Ooh, you just fucked up Ella." Red hissed jokingly, Ella groaned.

"I know! Why did I do that?!" Chloe shrugged, but then her eyes widened and she looked at Ella, then at Red, before dragging the latter away.

"We're gonna go do homework now! Bye Ella!"

"Uh... bye?"

"Mom's going to not show up to her date with Bridget to try the most basic trick in the book!"

"And get my mom to become a monster?!" Red looked at her with a frown, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

"No! Silly... she's going to ditch her, and Athene is going to swoop in and dance with her! And done! They're in love!" Red's frown deepened.

"But they won't be, because if that's what happened, then they should be happy now, but they're not, so that couldn't be what happened! Or, maybe, Bridget's feeling for Ella are so strong that her ditching her might break it, but she won't go on to dance with Athene immediately after that! If that is what happened, which it isn't, she'll refuse to dance with Athene, then turn into a monster by whatever Uliana's gonna do." Red took a deep breath, looking at Chloe, who looked like she was in denial about it.

"She wouldn't do that, she's way too nice- she's gonna do that." Chloe grimaced.

"So we stop my mom from ditching her, we get her to fall in love with Athene in two days, or, we stop Uliana from turning her into whatever made her seen as a monster!" She concluded.

"Maybe, in two days? Yeah the last one is the most probable solution."

-

"You put even the finest silks to shame with your beauty, I don't see why you would dress up this much for some girl." That isn't me.

"She's not some girl Athene, it's Ella. Now, this one flatters me more doesn't it?" She came out from behind the curtain in their private room with a beautiful dark pink ball gown on, her hair up in a bun, to make sure it didn't get tangled in the fabric.

"Your mom won't allow you to be with a commoner, even you have boundaries, the lowest you could go is with a duchess." Like me. "You are the only child after all."

"Mh, well, i'm gonna be queen anyway, so it doesn't matter much." Bridget brushed off her comment with a bright smile, giving Athene a little twirl.

"I love y- it. But I think the light pink suits you way better, the one with the roses along the corset." Bridget sighed, sitting down on the edge of the platform she was standing on, looking at where Athene was sitting.

"It's so weird, like I don't even know what her favourite shade of pink on me is! How am I supposed to choose!" Athene sighed.

"Whatever you feel the prettiest in is the only thing i'll ever find beautiful." Bridget let out a giggle.

"You're only saying that! You big flirt." Athene clenched her hand, but stood up once more to sit down next to Bridget and undo the delicate lacing on the corset for her.

"I'm not, but I can tell you that you should never hold back on wearing any colour, the gods just decided to make you look like a goddess in whatever you choose to wear." Bridget hid her face in her hands, feeling Athene's hands trace something on her back.

"What're you writing?" She eventually asked.

"I'm making a heart, because you're the queen of mi- ahem. The queen of them, all of them, anyone that doesn't believe in that will have to face off with my sword. My princess." Bridget giggled again, allowing her knight to slowly push the dress off of her shoulders and help her out of it.

"You big goofball." Athene nearly grabbed her and shook her around to try get some sense into her.

"You can start with mine though, i'll watch as your collection grows." Athene pulled something out of her pocket, an amulet, which... didn't have anything in it yet.

"There's nothing in there?" Bridget asked, tilting her head as she took ahold of the oval shaped amulet, which looked more like a thorny cage than anything else.

"Yet, I want you to have this." Athene took off her breastplate, unbuttoning the blouse underneath, Bridget watching with intrigue.

"What?!" Bridget gasped as Athene reached inside her own chest, dark blue magic swirling around her  hand as it disappeared into her chest.

"No! Athene! Do not give me-!" She was too late, the brunette had already pulled out the dark red oval shaped crystal.

"I know you're not supposed to give your heart to anyone but-."

"To anyone but your bride! Do not give me this! What if I lose it?! Or break it?! Do you want me to get a heart attack?!" Bridget clasped onto the opened blouse, pulling Athene down and coming face to face with the girl.

"I... know, but I want you to have it, you'll always have me, every little part of me is yours, even when I'm not your knight, i'll always be yours in my heart, which i'm giving to you to symbolise that I'm not leaving. Ever." She opened the amulet, placing the crystal inside, which fit snugly, and used her magic to seal it shut.

"Don't lose it." Bridget had tears in her eyes, her mouth hung open in disbelieve.

"Why would you- i'm-." She stopped herself, falling into Athene's chest and sobbing into it as she wrapped her arms around her.

"I hate you so much!" She cried, her nails digging into her sides as if she didn't just give her her literal heart.

Athene let her cry, stroking her hair and holding her close.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Why would you do this to yourself?!"

-

"Red, my little princess, you have to sleep now." Athene tried to get a little Red to stop jumping on the bed and settle down for story time.

"If you can get ready for bed in under five minutes i'll let you ride a horse with me tomorrow morning." She had never seen the princess run that fast before... well, maybe a few times, but not for bed.

"Done!"

"Brushed your teeth?"

"Check!"

"Well that settles it! We're going horse riding tomorrow!" Red cheered, quickly jumping under her sheets before Athene said anything.

"You're such a good kid, you know that right?" Red hesitated, but nodded.

"What do you want to hear about?"

"Can you tell me about my mom?" Athene's breath hitched, she looked at Red with wide eyes, the little Princess' eyes still so wide and innocent, even though she'd seen so much bloodshed.

"I-... sure. Settle in for the ride little one."

Red shot up in her bed, breathing loudly and clutching her chest, trying to calm down.

Luckily she hadn't woken Chloe, so she could wind down on her own.

"We have to stay for castlecoming."

-

"You guys need dresses?" Athene showed up to the new student's dorm the morning of castlecoming, two dresses in hand and with a smile on her face.

"I had to get out because Bridget wanted to bake something in peace, also, i'm being iced out because, well I gave her something she didn't really want and now she's terrified of losing it or breaking it, which it basically impossible." She let out a laugh, coming in past Red and handing the blue dress to Chloe.

"I'll help you guys get changed, well, i'll help Chloe with her make up, and i'll get any last changes on accessories you guys want, but that's considered helping, right?" Red nodded, holding her own red dress to her chest, happy that her parent figure did actually know what to do, like always.

"What'd you give her?" Red sent Chloe a glare, who simply shrugged.

"My heart."

"How?! What?!" Chloe freaked out, Red didn't.

"It's an old Wonderlandian tradition, give your heart to your bride and live a thousand years by her side. Essentially just becoming someone's property." Red explained, Athene shrugged.

"I see it as a deep pledge of my loyalty, also maybe a proposal, but with the way she reacted it definitely isn't something i'm going to be telling her." She awkwardly smiled, tying her hair up in a bun.

"If you need anything, call Bridget's room, i'm in there." She pointed at the landline on the table in a corner, and the two princesses shrugged.

"Sure."

-

"I'm back!" Athene smiled at Bridget, who glared at her, as best as she could.

"Princess- Bridget. You know that you're too adorable to be able to glare, please don't get early wrinkles because of me." She smoothed out her frown with her thumb, then stepped back to admire her dress.

"How do you feel in that?"

"Annoyed, disgruntled, mad."

"And if I asked how you feel with the dress being the source of the feelings?"

"Good." Athene kissed her forehead and went to sit on her bed, admiring the light pink ballgown.

"You look phenomenal, no wonder you feel good, if you didn't i'd have a few heads rolling." Bridget gasped.

"No! Don't kill people! That's bad Athene!" The knight merely smirked at her, and the princess held a hand up to cover her mouth, realising she had broken her promise of not speaking to her. -she had already broken it but this was in a bad way-

"Well, we can't have my princess in a bad mood for her first dance! I'll help with the corset, come here." Bridget stepped in between the girl's legs, lifting her dress to go over them so she was able to stand close enough.

"Why aren't you wearing my heart?" Athene eventually asked, once she was almost done lacing her up.

"Why aren't you wearing your dress?" She evaded the question, and she let her.

"I'm going to be wearing a suit, i'm still on duty and a dress would constrict my movement." Bridget hummed, turning around once she was done to face her.

"I'll wear your heart," Athene smiled up at her, and she leaned a bit closer. "-if you accept the night off to enjoy yourself with your date." She deflated.

"I don't have a date, I was't fast enough with asking her."

-

"Ella?" Bridget watched as the girl of her dreams danced with Charming, and Ella shot her a guilty look.

She stood there on the dance floor, staring at them as she betrayed her, when someone softly grabbed her hand and turned her around.

"Don't cry my princess, she's clearly not worth your tears." She glared at Ella for not only stealing her date but also ditching her.

Bridget looked up at her with a trembling bottom lip and teary eyes, trying to talk but nothing came out.

"Let's just dance."

Red watched as Bridget happily walked over to Ella, who went to dance with Charming, and then got intercepted by Athene, who was wearing a matching off white suit with light pink accessories.

"Oh my god this is so sad, why would- OH MY GOD!" Chloe gasped the last bit out when she saw Athene being pushed back by Bridget, who sped off, and now it was her turn to just stand there.

"I think we have a half half chance that this might stop my mom from being a maniac." Red piped up, trying to wave Athene over, who was staring blankly at the exit, arms limp by her torso.

"You think it's the good half?"

"Let's go see shall we?"

-

"Hey Uliana! Get the fuck away from Bridget!" Red yelled at the villain, who stepped back in shock from being caught, but soon resumed her actions of trying to give Bridget a cupcake.

When they arrived, they were just in time and slapped the cupcake out of Bridget's hands, the princess merely looking down at the mess.

"Get away from her." Red hissed out, pointing a dagger at the sea witch.

"Let's go wash your hands Bridget." Chloe coaxed her towards a fountain and washed her hands for the dazed girl.

-

"Let's go then...." Red spoke up once they were back in the stardust room, holding up the pocketwatch.

"Let's go!" Chloe grabbed it with her and they returned to their respective time, just to find that they were back to when Uma pointed out that Bridget was being disrespectful to her.

"I'm just trying to play my favourite game." She trialed off, standing up and being helped up by Athene, who stood besides her in a golden chrstplate??? Not black???

Red held her breath as her mom turned to her, then let it out with a confused sigh.

"Hearts!" She glanced at Athene, nothing changed with her except maybe she had less scarring on her body and her armour was golden.

"I'm just so happy that my daughter gets to attend Auradon prep with you all!" She smiled at her daughter, and Athene smiled at her too, the familiar, warm smile she used to give her when she still read her bedtime stories, until she was ripped away from her by her mother.

"Well, nothing I say can top that, so... happy schoolyear ya'll!" Everyone stood up, and Red and Bridget hugged.

"You've grown so much! Oh i'm going to miss you!" She pinched her daughter's cheeks, Red scrunching her nose.

"Mom!" She whined, Athene laughing at them.

"Don't be so rude! She's not going to see you for a few months!"

"Three months Athene! I've never not seen my baby for more than a week! Please be nice to everyone and remember! You get more with sugar than salt!" Red slowly nodded, glancing between Athene and Bridget, did the change also change their relationship?

"Soo, Athene, how's your girlfriend doing?" Athene frowned at her, shaking her head.

"Don't have one! Now stop asking me that you little brat!" She was about to jokingly put her in a headlock when Bridget stopped her.

"This is why I told you not to give me your heart! You're never going to find love that way." She shook her head with a sigh, not noticing how Athene looked at her.

"I've already found it."

"Mh?"

"Red's dorm of course! Let's go get you settled in!" Red arched an eyebrow at the slip up, but still followed the knight to her dorm, which she would be sharing with Chloe, again.

"Red! Oh my god it worked!" Chloe jumped into her arms, not noticing Athene behind her.

"As much as i'm confused by how you two know each other, i'm just going to set down your bags there." Chloe looked up at Athene with wide eyes, quickly scrambling off of Red, who rolled her eyes.

"Of course..." she glanced at Red with a questioning look, Red simply shook her head no.

"Really?! But didn't she show up to take Bridget back to her dorm?"

"Maybe they're destined to be like this."

-

"Oh! Remember when I had a crush on you when I was... 20? I think." Bridget laughed at the memory, not seeing Athene's face fall.

"Mom! Isn't this about me leaving? Not about you and your past romances!" Red saw the discomfort on Athene's face, it was hard to miss, even the Charmings saw it.

"Mhm, that was quite the phase." Athene simply replied, this mind blowing revelation nearly blew her apart, she could've had the woman of her dreams when she was 20, but she never asked her out and now she'll never have a chance again.

"If I ever get into a situation where i'm like her, please kill me." Chloe whispered to Red, who simply nodded in return, grabbing her hand and resting it on her thigh.

"Same goes for you." She whispered back to the flushed Charming girl.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 1

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Taglist: @christinabae@southerngirl41@reci24@jeyusos-girl@jeyusosgirl@melaninsugababy@baconeggndcheez@bemybabiibish@jstarr86@nbanenefrmdao@purplehairgawdess@arination99@alyyaanna@m3llowww@gomussy@jeysbae@hennyyybarb@babysyhsy @bebesobrielo @jeysbae @empressdede

gif credit: @laknxght

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Friday Nights just got 100 times hotter ❤️

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aliyahwwe: congrats bby i'll miss u 😢

user: hope she replaces @kaylabraxtonwwe

AirielleJones: ew blocked. we don't do that here

`shotziwwe: noooo please don't leave us 😭

SEPTEMBER 4th 2020

Airielle Jones smiled to herself as she looked around the backstage area. After working her ass off for two years down at NXT she was finally getting an opportunity to showcase her talents on the main roster. 

“Airielle?” She looked over when she heard her name being called. “I’m Kayla. Nice to meet you.” Kayla said, shaking Airielle’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

“So Paul said you can shadow me for the day and tomorrow you’ll do Talking Smack with me.” Airielle didn’t think it was possible for her smile to get any bigger. 

“Oh wow. Hopefully I won’t be in your way.” She said and Kayla waved her off. 

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, follow me.” Kayla had Airielle follow her around backstage, introducing her to passing superstars and upper management that Airielle had yet to meet. 

“So I have a segment to film with Sheamus and then one with Jey Uso at the end of the night. Have you met either of them yet?”Kayla said as A.J Styles just walked away from them and  Airelle shook her head. 

“No, I've met his twin though. I’m good friends with his wife.” 

“Oh. You know Trin?” Airielle nodded. “How?” 

“We go to the same hair salon in Pensacola.” 

“Oh wow, Small world.” Kayla said and beckoned Airielle to follow her. 

Airielle watched in awe as Kayla recorded her segment with Sheamus. She couldn’t wait until she was able to do what she loved. 

“Hey kid.” She smiled at Hunter when he walked over to her. 

“Hi. Mr Levesque.” She said, shaking his hand in greeting. 

“Please call me Paul. How you like the main roster?” He gestured around and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle. 

“It’s awesome. Gonna take some getting used to thought.” She said and he laughed, giving her a pat on the back. 

“You’re gonna do great, kid.” He said giving her one last smile before walking away. 

Kayla led Airielle around backstage showing her around the Amway Center when they bumped into Jey Uso. 

“Oh, hey Jey,. This is Airielle, Airielle this is Jey.” Kayla said and Airielle held her hand out. 

“Nice to meet you Jey.” She said, smiling at him. Josh was hooked, instantly. The second she smiled at him he was a goner. He realized he must’ve been staring at her because she slowly put her hand down, arched an eyebrow at him and turned her head to look at Kayla. 

“Shit, I zoned out. My bad.” He said, clearing his throat and giving them an awkward laugh “I’m Josh.” He said and she laughed. 

“Nice to meet you.” She said again waving bye and she and Kayla started to walk away from him. Josh groaned to himself as he watched her walk away. She was definitely gonna be trouble. 

Airielle and Kayla were sitting in The Gorilla position, watching the main event of the show when Paul walked over to them. 

“Hey kid, you got the post match.” He said to Airielle and her eyes widened. Paul laughed at the look on her face. “You don’t mind right?” He asked Kayla and she shook her head no. 

“Absolutely not. I’ll help her get ready.” She said and Paul nodded. 

“Good Luck,” he said giving her a thumbs up  before walking off. 

It was almost time for Airielle to go out and do the post match interview. There weren’t any fans but she was still nervous. 

Kayla sensed her nervousness and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze. “Girl, you got this, don't worry.” Airielle nodded and followed a stage hand to the side entrance of the ramp. Airielle watched as Jey- Josh hit the uso splash and pinned Matt Riddle for the 3-count.  She and Josh made eye contact as she made her way into the ring. 

“Congratulations Jey.” She said smiling. “You have earned your opportunity for the universal championship against your cousin Roman Reigns, at Clash of Champions. How important was this victory for you?” She held the microphone close to him so he could answer. 

Josh looked at her and his mind went blank. He blinked trying to refocus himself. He said the only thing that came to mind.  “Yes, sir!” He yelled out twice. “Hey big dog! I made the family proud, too. But guess what, Roman Reigns its locked down! Welcome…. You know the rest.” He said winking at her as his theme music played. 

“You did good.” Kayla said, hugging her. “Sorry I'm a hugger.” Kayla said as she pulled away from Airielle. 

“It’s okay and thank you. I don’t know why I was so nervous.” 

“Girl, you were a natural out there. So um, we film "Talking Smack" tomorrow morning nine am sharp. Meet me in the underground parking lot at eight.” Airielle nodded and gave Kayla one last hug before walking out of the arena and towards her rental. 

SEPTEMBER 5th 2020

Airielle rushed towards Kayla. “I’m sorry I’m late.” It was 8:30 am. “I’m still getting used to being up this early.” 

“It’s only thirty minutes. You’re good.” Kayla said and motioned for Airielle to follow her into the arena. “Woods is joining us today. Have you met him?” Airielle nodded. “Cool, we have Shinsuke, Cesaro, Alexa and Jey as guests today.” Airielle nodded again and continued to listen to Kayla as she went over how the show was going to happen. 

“Oh hey, Airielle’s here.” Xavier Woods said, causing Josh to look up from his phone and towards Airielle and Kayla. “Have you met her yet?” Josh groaned and nodded. 

“Yeah, made a complete ass outta myself.” He said, sucking his teeth when Woods started laughing at him. “It ain't funny Uce. I felt like an idiot just standing staring at her.” He rolled his eyes and pushed Woods away from him when he continued to laugh. “I’ll see you later.” Josh said, flipping Woods off as he walked away.

Airielle felt at home as she talked with Kayla, Woods, and Alexa during the Talking Smack taping. She felt like she actually belonged. Alexa had just left the panel and it was time to bring Josh in. 

“Well we have one more guest to join us right now.” She said looking between Kayla and Woods. 

“Right and I’ve used the word easy, but you know what’s not easy.” Kayla chimed in. “When you have to go head-on with family and that's what this guy will be doing come-” She was cut off as Josh came into the shot spraying the three of them with silly string. 

Airielle laughed as Woods started yelling about the string getting stuck in his hair. She started to pull the string out of her hair as Kayla started to talk about what happened the night before on Smackdown. She noticed that Josh was trying his hardest to not look in her direction and frowned before she remembered that she was on camera and plastered a smile on her face. She zoned back into the conversation when it was her turn to talk. 

“So let's say you go on the clash of champions and you become our new universal champion.” Airielle started and Josh felt his heart start to beat faster at the sound of her voice. “What’s your plan?” Their eyes met for the first time that day  and once again Josh was stuck. All thoughts flew out of his head. He snapped back once Woods kicked his leg under the table. He ignored the weird looks Kayla and Woods were giving him and answered Airielle’s question. 

“Real talk I can’t even rap that around my head. I aint never looked at me as no, real talk I ain't never thought about the big title. Never thought about a IC title, US title. It was always tryna chase yall.” He said pointing towards Woods. “It was always about beating y’alls record. I love the New Day. It was always eyes on the tag team titles. But now it’s like oh.” He stopped and smiled. “I can do it, you know.” 

She watched as he talked about how much winning the title would mean to him and she couldn’t help but smile, he was so passionate about wrestling, it was adorable to see. 

“That was so much fun.” Airielle said to Kayla once filming was done. Wood and Josh said goodbye before leaving Airielle and Kayla still sitting at the table. 

“Yeah, it was.” Kayla said with a frown on her face. 

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” Kayla looked over at Airielle and placed her hands overtop of hers. 

“No, you were fantastic. It’s just..” She paused and looked around before sliding her chair closer to Airielle. “Can you keep a secret?” Airielle leaned closer to Kayla and nodded. 

“Did Josh seem off to you? I mean I know you just met him, but..” Kayla sighed. Airielle shrugged, 

“I mean, maybe he was nervous about something. Is.. is he your boyfriend?” 

“No, I mean we.. you know, and went on some dates but we haven’t made anything official. We’re keeping it on the low.” Airielle nodded but she didn’t know what to say. She was slightly disappointed because she found Josh to be extremely attractive but it didn’t matter because she had promised herself  that she would not jeopardize her job for a quick fuck with one of these superstars. 

Clash Of Champions 2020

AIRIELLEJONES

liked by kaylabraxtonwwe, carmellawwe, trinity_fatu and 180,000 others

AirielleJones: Siri, play Beyoncé "Freakum Dress"

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user: 🥵

yasmine_jones: yasss! step on they fuvkin necks 😍

user: she just keeps blessing the TL

Airielle had been on the main roster for about 4 weeks now and she honestly couldn’t have been any happier. Sure she missed some of her friends from NXT but being on Smackdown had opened up way more opportunities for her than being on NXT. 

She was walking towards catering when she heard someone call out her name. She smiled when she saw that it was Kayla who called her name. She walked over and was immediately pulled into a hug. 

“First PLE. Are you excited?” Kayla asked and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle. She was about to respond when someone else called her name. 

“Airielle?! I missed you” Airielle smiled brightly at Trinity and rushed over to give her a hug. “Damn, look at you. I gotta come raid ya closet girl. “ 

Josh was walking around the arena with Jon looking for Trinity. 

“What the point of having a damn phone if she ain’t gon’ answer it.” Jon grumbled as he pressed Trinity’s name on his phone again, cursing her when her voicemail picked up again. “Why you so quiet Josh? You nervous?” 

“Hell yeah I'm nervous. I aint never have a opportunity like this before Uce. What if I screw it up.” 

“Man shut up.” He said, laughing when Josh stopped walking and glared at him. 

“What-” 

“Shut up. You and big uce gon go out there and kill it. Stop worrying.”  Josh nodded and took a deep breath. “You got this Uce.”  Jon said as he pulled his brother into a hug.  “Now help me find my wife.” 

They started walking again towards catering. That was the only place left to check. Jon cursed as he bumped into his brother almost knocking himself over. “Damn, what the f-” 

“I found her.” Josh said lowly nodding his head over to where Trinity was standing, talking to Airielle and Kayla. Jon started to limp his way over but stopped when he noticed his brother wasn't following him. 

“You coming?”  Josh shook his head, 

“Nah, imma stay right here.” He said ignoring the look his twin was giving him. “I just don’t want to go over there.” He said avoiding his brother's eyes. 

“Josh, stop playing and come on.” Jon rolled his eyes when Josh didn’t move. He hobbled over to his wife. “TRIN!” He yelled. She jumped, turning to face him. “Why you not answering ya phone man.” He said, rolling his eyes at her. “Sup Kayla.” He said fist bumping her and turned his attention to Airielle. “Oh shit. I know you.” He said, causing her to laugh. 

“Hi, Jon. Nice to see you again.” She said, smiling at him. 

“I thought you were with Josh?” Trin asked and Jon nodded and pointed behind him where Josh was waiting down the hall. 

“I was, he acting weird.” All the girls looked down the hall towards Josh whose eyes widened when he saw them looking at him. Airielle looked at Kayla out of the corner of her eye and saw that she was now looking down at her heels with a sad look on her face. 

I’ll see y’all later. Don’t forget to text me when you get back to Pensacola.” Trinity told Airielle. 

“Hey you okay?” Airielle asked once Trin and Jon walked away from them. Kayla shrugged. 

“I mean.” She sighed. “He’s been ignoring me. He won’t tell me what’s going on.” 

“Well honestly fuck him. If he’s ghosting you it’s his loss.” She said, pulling Kayla into a hug. 

Josh, Jon and Trinity were now in Joe’s locker room, as Josh and Joe got ready for the show. 

“Is everything okay with you and Kayla?” Trin asked once Josh sat down on the couch next to her. Josh arched his eyebrow and shrugged. 

“Yeah why?”  

“She was the reason why you didn’t come over earlier with Jon right?” She narrowed her eyes at him when he avoided her eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“Josh..” 

Josh cleared his throat and shrugged. “Yeah, me and Kay cool. I mean we not together though but..” He shrugged again, trailing off. Trinity studied him then let out a gasp. 

“What about Airielle?” She asked and he choked on the water he was sipping. 

“What happened?” Josh rolled his eyes and sunk lower into the couch. 

“Nothing happened, he just made an ass outta himself.” Joe said, overhearing their conversation. Josh sucked his teeth and glared over at his older cousin. “You ain’t see talking smack from a couple weeks ago? Man was stuck the second she started talking to him.”

“Josh got a crush.”

“I’m a grown ass man, I ain’t got no damn crush.” He said, rolling his eyes when they all laughed at him. 

First chapter of the rewrite. I hope you guys like it

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

[pxnsneverland]

Ruthless Grace | Austin Butler x OC (part 2)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

plot summary: Amidst the grime and squalor of Victorian England's winding cobblestone alleys, a young woman's life hangs precariously in the balance. Violet, a poor peasant girl with long raven locks and piercing gray eyes, possesses a haunting beauty that belies the harsh realities of her existence. Tragedy struck two years prior when Violet's mother succumbed to illness, leaving her to fend for herself and her father – a cruel, selfish man consumed by vices of alcohol and gambling. On one fateful night, Violet's father drags her unwillingly to that very den of iniquity, and there she learns a horrifying truth from the club's greedy, perverted owner: to repay his mounting gambling debts, her father has sold her into sexual servitude. Violet's vehement protests fall on deaf ears, until an unlikely savior emerges from the shadows. Lord Austin Butler intervenes with a bargain of his own. This dangerous man offers to pay off Violet's father's debts in exchange for her accompaniment, and Violet is torn from the only life she has known. While Austin's demeanor remains shrouded in mystery and detachment at first, Violet gradually glimpses his softer, even playful side as time passes within the manor's walls and an unexpected connection blossoms between the unlikely pair.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 3,025

warnings/notes: Still kind of an introductory/background chapter. But Austin does get introduced in this one :)

Chapter 2: An Unwelcome Visitor

One particularly bleak morning brought more than typical London drizzle; it brought Mr. Henry Cartwright—or 'Rat,' as he was aptly nicknamed—slinking through the narrow, cobbled streets towards their humble abode. His arrival was never without dread; his shadow seemed to cast a pall over whatever it touched, and today, its reach felt more chilling than usual. Violet watched from behind the partially closed door as this man who held her fate in his greasy palms approached. She could see the false smile plastered on his face, a grimace disguised as a greeting.

“Miss Everly,” Henry Cartwright began, his voice smooth like oil, but with an edge that hinted at the impatience beneath. “Your father has failed to meet his obligations again. And here I find myself, contemplating what measures to take to assure his... cooperation.”

Violet’s heart sank. She knew too well what this meant: further debts, more threats, or worse—actualization of those threats. The room felt colder as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a definitive thud.

“I have no money to give you, Mr. Cartwright,” Violet said quietly, her gaze steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. Her voice carried a defiance born not of hope but of resignation to whatever might come next.

Cartwright chuckled darkly, pacing slowly around the sparse room as if appraising it for valuables that did not exist. "Ah, but my dear," he sneered, eyes glinting with a cruel amusement as he stopped to face her, "it's not your money I'm after. You must understand, the debts of your father have grown too substantial to be ignored any longer."

Violet felt the walls close in, the weight of her impending doom pressing down on her shoulders. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the distant sound of a horse-drawn cart rattling over cobblestones outside. Henry Cartwright's gaze was like a vise, tightening with every second she remained silent.

"You see, Miss Everly," Rat continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper as he leaned closer, "your father's ineptitude has forced my hand. There's a certain... clientele at my club who would pay handsomely for the company of someone as rare and beautiful as you. It would certainly settle his accounts... and maybe even leave some over for your own keep."

Violet recoiled as if struck. The very air around her seemed to thicken with revulsion. Her mind raced, desperate for an escape from this nightmare, but her body felt frozen, ensnared by the horrifying reality of Rat's proposition. Rat's smirk widened as he observed her horror, taking perverse pleasure in the power he wielded over her. Violet's heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage, each beat a drum of panic. Yet, amidst the terror, a spark of her indomitable spirit flickered to life.

"No," she whispered, the word barely audible yet loaded with all the conviction she could muster. Rat paused, his expression shifting to one of surprise and then quickly to anger.

"What did you say?" he hissed, stepping closer.

Violet straightened up, her gray eyes hardening like flint. "I said no." Her voice gained strength from somewhere deep within her, a place untouched by fear or despair. "I am not a coin to be traded at your whim."

Rat laughed, a cold, humorless sound. "You might think you have a choice in this matter, Miss Everly, but let me assure you — you do not. This is not just your fate but also a solution to your father’s incompetence."

"I would rather die than live at the mercy of your vile desires," Violet retorted, her defiance lighting up her gaunt features.

The amusement on Rat’s face vanished, replaced by a menacing scowl. "Be careful, young lady. You are in no position to issue threats. Remember, I can make your life exceedingly difficult."

Violet's resolve did not falter, though her heart trembled within her chest. She knew the danger of antagonizing a man like Rat, but the thought of subjugation under his control was more terrifying than any threat he could utter.

"Then you shall have to do what you must," Violet said, her voice steady, though inside she felt like a fragile bird in a storm.

Rat's eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a cruel sneer. "Very well, Miss Everly. Since you choose defiance, expect no mercy from me." With those chilling words, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, each step heavy with menace.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Violet slumped against the wall, her legs weak with relief and fear. Tears threatened to spill over — not merely from fright but also from a deep-seated rage against the injustice of her plight and the depravity of men like Rat. In the silence that followed Rat's departure, the small, dimly lit room felt both sanctuary and prison. Violet's breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a battle against the despair that threatened to engulf her. Her father, who had been silent during the entire confrontation, now looked at her with a mix of bewilderment and indifference. His gaze was glazed, numbed by alcohol and years of moral decay.

"Violet, you shouldn't have spoken to him like that," he slurred, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "You've just made things worse for us."

Violet turned to face her father, her expression wrought with a mixture of pain and defiance. "Made things worse? How, Father? By refusing to be sold like property?" Her voice trembled from the intense emotion that churned within her, but her stance was resolute. "No, Father, it is you who have made things worse with your recklessness."

Edward Everly shuffled uncomfortably, his bloodshot eyes avoiding her piercing gaze. "You don't understand, Violet.”

"That does not excuse you from your vices!" Violet's words cut through the dim room like a blade. The very air seemed charged with her fury, an electric tension that made even Edward shift uneasily on his feet.

Edward's gaze shifted again, landing on the grimy window pane as if seeking an escape from Violet’s searing condemnation. “You think it’s easy? Surviving in this godforsaken place?” His voice cracked, an unusual display of emotion from a man she knew more as a figure of stubborn indifference and cruelty.

“Survival does not necessitate the selling of one’s soul,” Violet retorted sharply, her eyes never leaving his face despite the sting of tears that blurred her vision.

A shadow passed over Edward’s face—a flicker of guilt, perhaps, or merely resentment at being challenged. “You don’t know the burdens I carry,” he muttered, turning away from her piercing eyes.

Violet felt a momentary pang of pity for the man who had once been her protector, before quickly steeling her heart against it. "And you, Father, have never understood the burden of your actions on others," she replied softly, yet with a steeliness that surprised even her.

The tension between them stretched taut as a bowstring. Edward stood, his jaw clenched, the veins in his neck bulging with suppressed rage. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on his face, making him look more monster than man. Abruptly, he grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and yanked it on with jerky movements.

"Where are you going?" Violet asked, her voice steady despite the fear that gripped her heart.

"To settle things with Rat," Edward growled, his words slurring together as he struggled to maintain control over his enflamed emotions.

Without waiting for a response, Edward stumbled out of the room, his heavy boots echoing against the wooden floorboards. Violet watched him go, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. Fear for what her father might do in his drunken state mixed with fury at his betrayal and sadness for the broken shell of a man he had become.

Left alone, Violet’s thoughts raced as she pondered her next move. The walls of the dank room felt like they were closing in on her, each shadow playing tricks on her eyes as if mocking her plight. She knew that standing up to Rat had probably only bought her a brief reprieve. Men like him did not take defiance lightly, and she had no illusions about the lengths to which he would go to assert his control.

The sound of raucous laughter and clinking glasses from down below reminded her of where she was — in the bowels of a club. Rising to her feet, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, refusing to allow them any further claim on her spirit. With quiet steps, she went down the stairs and approached the door that led into the club.

********************

The dimly lit back room of the club was thick with the smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke, a miasma that clung to every surface as obstinately as the patrons clung to their vices. Violet's heart hammered in her chest, each beat a loud echo in her ears that seemed to drown out the low murmur of conversation around her. She stood stiffly beside her father, her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of her worn skirt. Rat sat behind a cluttered desk covered in papers and empty glasses, his beady eyes appraising Violet like a merchant assessing a piece of merchandise. Edward shifted uncomfortably beside her, his gaze avoiding hers.

"Ah, the gem of the night," Rat exclaimed with a greasy smile, his voice dripping with feigned delight.

Violet felt a shiver course through her spine at his words, her skin crawling under the weight of his gaze. She remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line, as Rat stood and circled around the desk with the predatory grace of a vulture swooping down on its prey. He stopped inches from her, his fetid breath brushing against her face as he leaned in close.

"You'll do nicely," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with unwholesome anticipation. Violet recoiled instinctively, but Rat's hand shot out, gripping her chin with a firmness that made escape impossible.

“Get your hands off of me,” Violet spat struggling to keep her eyes locked on his. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her weak.

Rat snickered roughly letting go of her chin. “You’ve got fire. I’ll be sure to do something about that quickly.”

“What are you talking about?” Violet raised a brow.

Edward's laugh, a hollow sound devoid of any paternal warmth, grated on her nerves. "Now, now, Violet, be good," he chided, his words slurred slightly as he took another swig from the bottle he had managed to procure upon their arrival.

Rat's chuckle was low and menacing as he turned his attention back to Violet's father. "Edward, you've truly outdone yourself this time," he sneered, eyeing Violet like a hawk regarding its next meal. His voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper, though loud enough for Violet to overhear. "Remember our agreement. She's mine until the debts are squared away."

Violet felt her blood run cold at his words, the finality of her situation crashing down around her like the walls of a decrepit house succumbing to its own decay. A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she quashed it quickly, her instinct for survival sharpening her focus. She needed to think, to plan, not simply react.

"Never," she breathed, her voice trembling not from fear, but from a fierce resolve that took even her by surprise. Violet turned sharply to face her father, stepping forward so that they were eye-to-eye, forcing him to confront the reality of what he had done. "How could you?" The accusation was more than a question; it was a denouncement of every moment of neglect and abuse she had suffered under his care.

Edward, his face a mixture of inebriated confusion and dim irritation, tried to formulate a response, a pathetic attempt at justification hanging limply between them. "It's all for the best," he stuttered, his eyes not meeting hers. "You'll have food and—a roof."

Violet's laugh was bitter, laced with incredulity and contempt. "A roof? A cage, more like," she retorted sharply, her anger giving her voice a steely edge. "You barter away your flesh and blood for a few coins to squander on your vices. You are less than a man."

Edward's face reddened, his eyes briefly flashing with something that might have been shame, but it was quickly drowned out by a resurgence of his habitual defiance. "You don't understand the pressures I'm under!" he shouted back, his voice rising over the din of the club.

"I understand perfectly," Violet countered coldly. "I understand that you are a coward, Father. A coward who would sell his daughter to shield himself from his own failures."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the usual cacophony momentarily subdued as patrons turned to witness the spectacle unfolding. Rat, sensing the shift in atmosphere, clapped his hands with mock cheerfulness. "Enough of this family drama," he interjected smoothly, his tone brooking no argument. "Violet, you are now under my care. Edward, you know the terms. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be."

With a disdainful glance at her father, Violet pulled her arm free from his grasp and took a step back, distancing herself both physically and emotionally. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribcage, each thud resonating with the resolve that hardened in her eyes. She wouldn't let despair consume her; she would fight, somehow.

“Now, Now, Cartwright,” came a voice that belonged to a hooded figure seated near them at the opposite table. “You should know better than to do your dastardly deeds in the open.” The figure removed his hood revealing a young man with blue eyes and blonde hair that flickered in the candlelight.

Rat sneered. “Lord Butler. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Stay tuned for part 3!! Click HERE to view!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations on your milestone! If you are still doing this, can I request a jukebox roulette for Rex with a F! Reader or OC, with the song:

I'm so excited to see what you do with this!

Thank you so much @callsign-denmark !

You are such a sweetheart.

I listened to this song, and then the album and I just love this band! Thank you for introducing them to me!

Alright, so I hope you love my interpretation of this, it might not be what you were hoping for, but I tried.

Love oo

Glowing In The Dark

Warnings: Severe injury, tears, begging, pleading, declarations of love, realities of war, passing out from exhaustion, refusing to leave, surgery, symbiotic relationship, angst, hurt/comfort. I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

The bruises, cuts, and pain that radiated on your face and body, was too much for Rex. He held your hand as you waited for a medic. The fighting had been especially brutal, and the med tent was inundated with casualties, some far worse than yours.  

Tears pricked his eyes as you lay there moaning in pain.

“You’re alright, cyar’ika. You’re going to be alright. Just hang in there. Please.”

He pressed a subtle kiss to the back of your hand, not that he really needed to be subtle, every single person part of the 501st knew you two were together. It was the worst kept secret, and frankly neither of you cared. 

He certainly didn’t, when you showed up in his life you were a light in the darkness. 

Not just figuratively, but also quite literally. You’d fallen into a bioluminescent pond and when you came upon Rex and General Skywalker, with your own elite Commando unit, he thought you were a glowing angel in the dark. 

It was thanks to your ethereal appearance, he survived that mission. The other side, thought you were a ghost, and scared them into dropping their weapons. 

You coughed, and groaned in pain, he squeezed your hand, “Cyar’ika, hang in there. Just think about what we’re going to do next shore leave. You promised me to take me… what was that again, oh right window shopping. Whatever that is. You said we’d spend the day together, relaxing and enjoying the day. So… you need to hold on so we can do that together.”

The warm liquid filling his eyes was getting to be too much, as he subtly brushed them away. 

“Remember the last time we were on Trip Zip, you convinced me to go to a poetry reading. I know I grumbled all night about it, but I’ll gladly suffer through another night of that if it means I get to sit beside you, holding your hand, feeling your body pressed against mine. So please hold on.”

There was a tear that slid down your cheek, as the pain was becoming unbearable. 

“MEDIC!” Rex called again, hoping someone was free. Where was Kix when he needed him!

“Rex…” you softly whispered.

He leaned in closer, “What is it, cyar’ika?”

“I … I …” you coughed again, “ I love … you.”

“I love you, too, but right now save your strength. Just stay awake for me, okay?”

Your head moved slowly, an almost imperceptible nod. 

“Do you remember our first night together? How hard you held on to me, never wanting to let me go? That’s how hard I need you to fight right now. I need you to keep awake, to stay here with me. Please, you’re my light in the dark. I can’t lose you.”

The usually stoic voice trembled out of his mouth. He didn’t want to lose it, he needed to stay strong for you.

With each passing minute and second, he felt his heart screaming more and more for you, begging for you to not leave him. To stay by his side, to always stay. 

“Baby …” his voice was barely above a whisper, the only person who could hear him was you, “don’t leave me. Please. I’ve learned to bear the loss of so many of my brothers, I’ve tried to be strong, to not let it get to me, but … please.” He pressed his forehead against your hand, “Please, I won’t make it if you leave me too.”

His body slowly moved closer, kneeling beside the stretcher you were on, “I’ve learned to bear their passing, the responsibility of their loss, of what it means to be Captain, and … I promise, I’ll bear everything else. I’ll do everything and anything, just please … please stay.”

Tears streamed down his cheek as he felt the grip that had been so strong moments slowly start to wane. 

“MEDIC!” He shouted again, praying this time that one of the medics were free. 

“Vod?” Kix ran over to the tent the minute he heard Rex’s voice, he’d just made it back from the front but as soon as he saw your face, the way your body slowly started to relax, he knew there was no time. 

Rex turned to look at his vod, tears trickling down his face as he clenched your hand against his chest, “Vod, I … I can’t see her glow… where’s her glow?”

“MEDIC TEAM ON ME!”

Within an instant you were lifted away from Rex and taken behind the surgical screen, Rex stayed kneeling on the ground in that very spot, afraid to move, afraid that if he did he’d lose his connection to you. 

Despite everyone trying to coax him to a seat, to rest, to get some food, he refused. He simply waited kneeling in that spot, his eyes closed the entire time you were in surgery.  It was almost six hours later when Kix and his team brought you back to him. You looked better, there was a slight glow to your skin. Despite the fact it had almost been a year since you fell into that bioluminescent pool, you still glowed in the dark. 

“Don’t worry she’ll be alright,” Kix pressed his hand against Rex’s shoulder, “took out quite a bit of shrapnel, fixed a few broken bones, and a perforated bowel, but she’ll be alright. Once we get them onboard the Resolute, she’ll be going straight into a bacta tank.”

Rex crumpled against the ground as soon as he knew you were safe, he was beyond exhausted from the stress and anxiety of almost losing you. Kix, simply smirked, shaking his head as they arranged for him to have a cot right beside you.

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Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

[rimunagenius]

Number

Pairing: Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford x f!Reader (soon will become an ‘x fem!OC’ during the second chapter)

Word Count: 897

Warnings: I think it’s just foul language

Summary: Getting a new neighbor is always fun or even interesting. But an annoyingly cute biker who makes too much noise, isn’t.

Note: I did totally get this from a movie or show i saw on my tt fyp soooo…i don’t own the plot, nor do i own the Sons or the SOA plot (my boy Kurt Sutter does) but i just own my reader inserts kids as characters. If you find the name or know the name of whatever movie or show this is (if you recognize the dialogue), pls comment it so i can put it in here.

Masterlist

Part 1 of the Unexpected Treasure series !

It was hard to get your little one to bed. Recently she’s being crying all night long and when she sleeps, she only sleep for two hours and then wakes up. Your oldest ones weren’t bad at all. So easy even.

Tonight was a rough night. You had already done three laps around the back yard, two around the kitchen and living room, and 6 of her bedroom. Her eyes finally started to close as you were slowly and silently rocking her in the rocking chair in her room.

Laying her in the crib slowly, carefully calculating any moves to not wake her up, you stood up and closed the door, leaving a crack so you could hear her from next door.

You had applied moisturizer to your fresh and healing tattoo before hearing the an odiously loud rumbling of bikes outside the door.

Groaning loudly you quickly made your way outside the front door before crossing your lawn over to the neighbors. You saw four men outside and just one bike while they stood in the garage. The rumbling was loud that you signaling them to keep it down wasn’t heard.

“Hey!” You stood closely behind the two with their backs faced to you, and yelled in their ears so they could hear. They turned around quickly and looked upset at the loudness of your voice.

“What gives, lady?!” One with crazy messy curly black hair turned around, finger lodged in his ear.

“Bloody hell, woman.” The other one who seemed to have facial scars turned around. The rumbling of the bike stopped immediately after the two stopped yelling at you. A man with long blonde hair and another man with long brown hair looked at you.

“Why are you guys doing making so much goddamn noise!?” You were visibly upset that these men dragged you out of your house at 10pm to rev stupid bike engines.

“Introducing ourselves to the neighbors, darlin— his neighbors.” The blonde one pointed towards the man with the crazy scars. You knew someone was moving in but the bikes weren’t really a problem when they were leaving and coming back so little.

“Well, I’m the neighbors, and we’re introduced, so if you wouldn’t mind, could you please shut the fuck up.” You looked at all four then before turning around and walking back across your lawn. You made it to the door before the one with the accent started talking to you.

“Wait, hold on. Let’s start over okay? My names Filip, what yours?” He had long hair, salt and pepper colors and the leather and kutte were actually very attractive on this man. But you didn’t know him, and men weren’t exactly your specialty considering you have three kids who’s dads left them.

“That’s cool. Just think of me as the person next door who likes it quiet.”

“Aye, but come on, love. Don’t be like that. We live next door to eachother and I feel bad. I feel terrible. I’m sorry. Will ya accept my apology?

“I don’t need your apology, I just need the quiet.” You then turned to go up the 3 steps to your porch before he started talking once again.

“Why don’t I take ya out to dinner to apologize for my rudeness? You give me yer’ number and I already have your address. I’ll call you up like a proper lad, and ask ya out.”

You giggled, “You want my number?” You smiled as you looked at him, and back at the other three men who seemed to resume talking but kept looking over to listen. Your sarcasm evident to them as the snickered amongst eachother.

“I do. I do want your number.” He nodded as he fixed his hair, his eyes never leaving yours once.

“Which number do you want? Filip?” You knew his name, you just didn’t have the capacity to care about or spare his feelings considering you had three children to get inside to and a early shift at the hospital to get some of the very little sleep for.

“Filip, now I like the way you say that, darlin.” He huffed as he smirked while he looked at you and then back to his friends before looking to you again. “How many numbers do ya have?”

“Oh I have plenty, darlin,” you mocked his endearment for you. “I have numbers falling out my ears. For instance, nine.”

“Nine?”

“Yeah, that’s how many months my baby girl is.”

“You got a little girl?” He looked intrigued and surprised in your statement. The guilt for being too loud already getting to his conscience.

“Yeah. Sexy huh? And how about this? Four is how old my oldest boy is. Two is how old my other son is. Two is the amount of time i’ve been married and divorced. Twenty is the amount of money I have left in my bank account. 850-3943 is my phone number, and im guessing zero is the amount of times your going to call it.”

“That impresses me, and your wrong about the zero thing, sweetheart.” He spoke as you walked inside and shut the door. He turned around and walked back to the boys as she looked back at your house, the living room light being shut off at the same time.

“Damn, she was pissed.” The man with long hair spoke, adjusting his beanie.

“Yeah, Chibs. Opies right, you gotta stop moving and pissin off your neighbors. This has happened like four times already.”

“Oi, shut up, Tiggy.”

“You got her number though, right?” The blonde asked, his eyebrows wiggling in a mockingly manner.

“Aye, Jackie boy.”

༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ ༒

IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC I CAN MOST DEFINITELY START ONE!!

Taglist:

Hey, heads up! future chapters will be longer, but i made this one short bc i didn’t have any idea on how to make further scenarios where they interacted more.

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle Series

Coming Home 

Chapter – 17 

 Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)  

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?  

Marabelle Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist  

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor  

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x Daniel(from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson                                                                                   Leo Rys x Katie Rys 

Most characters belong to Pixelberry Studios  

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo, gun violence 

Many thanks to @selina012 for pre-reading. 

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement with sprinkles of Canon 

Chapter Summary – Sophie settles into her new home at the palace, as well as Marabelle in the Royal stables. Leo comes home with his new bride. The memorial for the victims of the university attack takes place in the Capital. 

Music & Title Inspiration:

Words: 5.0k 

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.  

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.  

A/N3: Heartfelt thanks to @Selina012 for joining me in writing ideas and with dialogue/content for this chapter and series. 

Cordonian Royal Palace 

There was something almost dreamlike about walking arm-and-arm with Liam up to one of the lavish bedrooms at the palace. They had scarcely closed the door when his arms slid around her, pulling her tightly against him and tucking her into the warmth of his chest. 

"Are you alright," his warm voice caressing her ear as gently as his breath. 

"Just fine," Sophie gently responded. As she let herself relax and fall into him, Liam tilted her chin upward. His mouth met hers, warm and welcoming. For a few precious moments, there was no outside world. There was only him and her. Nothing between them or tearing them apart. Nothing but him and her, together at last. 

With his arms around her waist, he spun her slowly and tenderly to show her around her luxurious and elegant chamber. It was elegantly and beautifully appointed with richly stained oak furniture. The decor was a soft beige with hints of gold and red, lending a cozy ambiance to the entire space. The walls were adorned with rich gold and scarlet tapestries that shimmered underneath the light of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. 

In the center of the room is a large bed with soft silk quilts, fluffy cushions and pillows stacked in a color that complimented the decor of the room and appears comfortable and luxurious.  

Across the room, she could see the vanity desk and mirror with the signature red chair, adorned with rich red velvet and tufted cushions. The courtyard was in view beyond the terrace doors. 

Liam led Sophie outside onto the balcony and pointed out to the courtyard and whispered, “someday ... all of this will be your little place, too.” 

Sophie smiled demurely and nodded, full of hope for the future. A breeze blew by with the scents of flowers from the gardens. 

He finally loosened his embrace a little and planted a sweet and chaste kiss on her forehead. The smile on his face was genuine, and the glint of love was in his eyes. 

After a few moments, her thoughts turned to Hana and her doctor’s comments. Sophie was informed that Hana was in shock and needed to be checked by a nurse while at the palace. Sophie wondered how she was settling into her room. 

“Thank you, Liam, for inviting Hana to stay at the palace while she recovers. She was a comfort to me in the hotel that night, and I am truly grateful for our new friendship," Sophie said with sincerity.  

"My love, you do not need to thank me. It is not my intention to ever make you feel like you must hold gratitude for basic human decency. Especially not when you have been through such an ordeal yourself." 

Sophie had to stifle a laugh at his phrasing, and he responded with a chuckle. "What is so funny," his eyebrow cocked up with the beginnings of a teasing grin on his handsome face. 

"It just seems to me," she begins, hesitating only briefly before the seriousness and courage returned to her, "that there's just something about an 'ordeal' that leaves a woman wanting in your life, huh?" 

Sophie looked down with a smirk. 

Liam looked back at her with a perplexed look for only a second before he gives a soft snort and shakes his head with the realization. 

"Is it any wonder why I love you?" 

She merely hums her appreciation in response and continues her own examination of her new surroundings. 

Liam leaned into her more fully, sliding his arm down the length of her body to slip his fingers between her own and lift their hands into a tight clutch before him, effectively stopping her in her path. 

"Everything you want in the world is available to you, within these very walls. So, if there is anything at all you might desire or even fancy to want, you shall have it," he paused for a brief second. She caught the slight trepidation in his tone. "This is your home for as long as you should so wish, Soph. So, I want you to feel like it's completely yours. Your things are already being moved over from Ramsford and will join you here, shortly.” 

Reminded about Marabelle, her thoughts turned to her loyal companion who had accompanied her through so many days and nights. Sophie hadn’t seen her horse for days and wondered if she was all right at the House Beaumont stables. 

“And Marabelle?” Sophie wondered aloud. 

“Marabelle will now be homed here in the palace stables.”  

Liam seemed to read her mind and said softly, "According to the stable hands, Marabelle became agitated when the shooting happened, as if she sensed her owner was in danger. But rest assured, she is fine and has calmed down now. She will now be homed here in the palace stables." 

Sophie felt unexpected emotions. It had never occurred to her that Marabelle could sense her danger so keenly. This tacit understanding and connection beyond words made her cherish the emotional bond with Marabelle even more. 

Sophie looked up at him with a rather appreciative smile, but he could see the flicker of mischief behind it and was at once curious to know exactly what it is she was thinking about. "What is it," he chuckled softly. 

"Can I decorate?" 

His laughter rang out, a rich warm sound. Sophie didn't even try and pretend like she doesn't absolutely love it when he is relaxed enough to throw back his head and laugh in earnest like he did then. 

"My love, if you think I'd even consider toying with the notion of saying no to your whim or desire, then you haven't known me nearly well enough." His eyes gleamed at her with their twinkle of laughter. 

"Don't blame this on me, Liam. You're the one who suggested I'd find everything I wanted here and be willing to give it to me." 

"Would you believe me," he reached for her free hand with his and lifted both to hold up at his chest level, between them, "if I told you there is nothing in the entire palace grounds and even the kingdom itself, that I would refuse you and anything you wanted." 

He pressed a sweet kiss against the smoothness of the back of her palm and she felt a jolt from the simple gesture. 

"Can I trust that?" Sophie teased with a flirtatious smile, leaning in toward him. 

"Please, allow me to prove to you the sincerity in that promise, because it's quite important to me that you have faith in it." Liam teased back in response. 

"Your majesty." They heard the whisper from the closed door just before it cracked open. Liam did not remove his gaze from Sophie. 

"Speak freely, Tyler, no need for the secrecy and subterfuge. "Liam said calmly but gravely. 

"My apologies, sir, you have an urgent call from the Italian ambassador." 

"Right. Of course, thank you." Liam cleared his throat and cleared his expression, revealing a kind smile as he gently squeezed his grip around Sophie's hands. "I will see you at lunch, my love?" 

Sophie nods her agreement, smiling gently at him as he gently pats her hands before letting go, offering a gentle squeeze at his retreat before heading out. 

After Liam leaves to answer the call in his office, Sophie chose to check on Hana in a nearby bedroom. She began the short journey across the palace's royal wing, passing by an enormous stained-glass window overlooking the lavish courtyard. As she finally approached a familiar corridor and took two steps down the hallway, she sees a blur out of the corner of her eye. 

‘Hah! An unfamiliar woman ducks out of an alcove ... and swings her fist at Sophie's head!’ 

With the quick reflexes from childhood equestrian training, Sophie ‘ducked down just enough that the fist passes harmlessly over her head.’ 

‘Hff! The stranger's other hand comes up to drive another punch at Sophie.’ 

Dodging the second strike, her fist whistles past her face.' 

‘Thunk! Before she can think twice, her hand shoots up and snatches the woman by the wrist. Using her attacker's momentum against her, she yanks the stranger towards the floor and shoves her off-balance onto the ground, sending the stranger sprawling.’ 

‘"What the..." and before Sophie could finish her thought, the woman launched into a roundhouse kick.’   

‘"Yahhh!" In a panic, Sophie stepped forward and stumbled even further into the arc of her kick, but just before it makes contact ... the woman drops into a standing position. 

"You've got potential, but you could use a lot of polish."’ The woman looked at Sophie with an examined eye. 

Sophie gasped and distanced herself from the woman, "Oookay, back up. Who are you?” 

The woman gives a short bow. 

"I'm Mara. Isn't it obvious?" She made a brief introduction of herself. 

Sophie was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized, "You're ... my new bodyguard?" 

"Correct. You're smart. That's good." Mara nodded with a brief smile. 

"Alright Mara, have I done something to make you mad at me?" Sophie looked at this woman in front of her, discontented and confused. 

"Of course not." 

"Then can you explain to me why you tried to punch me in the face? Twice?" Sophia stared at her warily, her eyes alert. 

Prince Liam said you needed the best protection, and I'm here to offer the best that I can.' Mara raised her head in a serious tone. 

You ... did that as some sort of training exercise? 

"I didn't want you to get used to fighting from the ground." Mara nodded. 

Sophie shook her head disapprovingly, feeling both good and amused at Mara’s weird ‘protection’ method. “For someone tasked with protecting my life, that seemed pretty unsportsmanlike to me!" 

" Do you think everyone who attacks you will be honorable?" 

Anticipating Sophie’s reaction, Mara puts her hands behind her back and bounces on her toes, a cheerful smile plastered to her face. 

Sophie looked into Mara’s determined eyes with a mixture of reassurance and unease. Mara’s style is a little hard for her to accept, and she’s not sure she can fully trust her new bodyguard.  

"My instructions were not to be friendly or easy. Prince Liam said, 'get tough and get smart, and don't let anyone near her again' so I will stick to my orders. "Seeming to read Sophie’s mind, Mara explained with a serious look. 

Sophie raised a questioning eyebrow at Mara. 

Mara replied," from now until we capture the enemies or stop them, whichever is first, I am your shadow, Lady Sophia. Nothing else matters to me right now." 

Sophie hears a door open behind her as Liam steps into the hallway. 

"Oh, I see you've met Mara." Liam’s eyes were tinged with relief and anticipation. 

"Yeah, she ... introduced herself...if you can call it that." Sophie nodded and gave a rueful smile. 

Liam smiled, not surprised by the way Mara made her entrance. “I wanted to run an idea by you before we head to lunch." 

 Gardens of the Royal Palace 

The garden lost its old laughter, replaced by an indescribable repression and silence. The flowers also seem to be overshadowed by this sudden change, losing their bright and vibrant past. Madeleine sat alone in a corner of the garden, her dark green dress blending in with her surroundings. 

She sat still, her eyes blank into the distance, her ears filled with the whispers of people around her, talking about the shooting at Cordonia University that shocked the nation. For Madeline, it was a relief that the focus was no longer on her embarrassing divorce from Leo. 

It had been a month since Prince Leo had abdicated the throne and Liam had been made Crown prince. That moment marked not only a major change in the Cordonian monarchy, but also the end of Madeleine's dream of being queen. Her father, Duke Godfrey, who had placed great hopes in her political engagement with Leo, was now bitterly disappointed. The relationship between father and daughter fell to a freezing point, almost beyond recovery. And she herself, because of the sudden collapse of the dream of becoming a queen, fell into a deep confusion and pain. 

During the period when her engagement was broken off, Madeleine went from being the queen in waiting to become the object of public discussion overnight. Curiosity, sarcasm, sympathy... A storm of complex looks and words. She could not bear this change, so she chose to escape, hiding in the family estate in the Duchy of Krona, for a whole month, cut off all contact with the outside world. Even her friends Penelope and Kiara, who were turned away the first few times they tried to visit, gradually lost patience and stopped coming. 

In the lonely manor, Madeleine tries to use silence to heal her wounds, but she gradually senses that the atmosphere inside the manor is abnormal. To say nothing of her father's disappointment, even her mother, always carefree and fond of partying and gossiping, the Duchess of Adelaide became eccentric and seemed to be hiding things from her. In addition, some rarely seen faces frequently appear in the Duchy, either as guests to Adelaide or as mysterious visitors with hidden agendas. Immersed in her own world, however, Madeleine did not pay much attention to these subtle changes. 

Until a few days ago, the sudden shooting at the University of Cordonia shattered all the quiet. The innocent students got hurt even killed, and the whole country of Cordonia was filled with grief and anger. It was like a blow to Madeleine's heart. She realized she couldn't run away any longer. She knew that, as a member of the aristocracy, she had to stand up. The pride and self-respect that remained in her heart did not allow her to remain silent and withdraw when her country was in danger. 

So, she took courage, walked out of the house where she had been imprisoned, and went back to the palace. However, she still chose a cautious lifestyle, trying to avoid the eyes and comments of the crowd. She knew that though she had walked out of the gate of the manor, the shadow in her heart would not be removed for a moment.) 

As Madeleine sat alone in the pavilion in the palace garden, lost in her own memories, the silence was suddenly broken by a soft sound of conversation. She jerked back and caught two familiar figures -- Penelope and Kiara. Their figures stretched out in the afternoon sun and stood out. 

"I really can't imagine that shooting could have happened in Cordonia, it was so horrible. I hope the victims will be fine." There was a tremor in Penelope's voice, a timid and gentle nature that made her terrified by the mass violence. 

Kiara was more profound, with some anxiety in her voice: "Cordonia is not peaceful these days. Prince Leo suddenly abdicated last month, and Liam was appointed crown prince. I don't know what the future holds." 

Upon hearing Leo's name, Penelope instantly thought of Madeleine: "That reminds me, how is Madeleine? We haven't seen her for a long time since Prince Leo abdicated." 

Kiara snorted contemptuously. "Don't mention Madeleine. Don't forget, we went to Krona a couple of times to find her, and she turned us away. Apparently, she chose to hide, rather than face the truth. People like her don't deserve our attention anymore." 

Madeline's heart felt like it had been poured on fire, and anger flared up. She had wanted to leave quietly to avoid the awkward encounter, but Kiara's words were like a sharp knife, cutting through the last of her self-esteem. She straightened her back and, in an almost haughty manner, walked slowly towards her former friend. 

"Penelope, Kiara, I can't believe you remember me." Madeline tried to keep a calm voice, even as the anger inside swelled. 

A flash of surprise crossed Penelope's face, followed by concern. "Madeline! Long time no see, how have you been?" She held out her hand happily, only to be shunned awkwardly by Madeleine. 

Kiara, on the other hand, was far more indifferent, refusing even to look Madeleine in the eye: "Penelope, why should you be so polite to her?" Even though she was once Prince Leo's fiancée, but now she has been annulled by him, now she has lost her value. Following Prince Liam is the right thing to do now." 

Madeline fought back her anger with a sneer on her lips. "Oh? Did you, now? Kiara, my engagement was broken off by Leo, but that doesn't mean I lost. At least I had a chance of being queen, and it is not for you to judge me." 

Penelope saw this and quickly stepped forward to make peace, "Kiara, Madeleine was our friend, she helped us a lot, she must be very sad now. Why can't we sit down and talk it over?" 

Kiara folded her arms and glanced at Penelope with a few lines of dissatisfaction: "Penelope, you’re too good-tempered. What we should focus on is facts and values, not friendship." 

Madeline could not listen anymore, and every word seemed to her like an insult and insult. She shook her head and looked at Penelope coldly. "I accept your kindness, Penelope, but I don't need your sympathy or pity." With that, she turned, her dress made a sharp arc in the air and swept away. 

Leo's perspective ...

In the deep and solemn study of the royal palace of Cordonia, the dim light reflected the portraits of the Kings hanging on the wall, and the air was filled with a sense of heaviness and unease. Outside the window, dark clouds billowed, as if foreshadowing the turmoil the kingdom was experiencing. Now, in the study, Leo and King Constantine stood facing each other, their figures very stiff in the weak light. 

"Father." Leo's voice was low, with a subtle tremor. He had just rushed back from abroad, worried about his father's health and shocked and saddened by the shooting at Cordonia University. 

King Constantine's eyes were sharp and complex. He said slowly, "You have come back at last. I thought you had forgotten this country." 

Leo took a deep breath and said, "I haven't forgotten, but I need time to find out what I really want in life. Also, I heard about the shooting and I'm worried about it and about your health." 

"Do you even know to worry?" Constantine sneered. "You have thrown all this away at the most crucial moment, including your crown prince and your fiancée Madeleine." 

Leo's hands were clenched in fists and his voice was low but firm: "Father, I admit that I did what I did, but it was because I was really not up to the task of being Crown prince, it was not the right life for me. As for Madeline, there was no real affection between me and her, and I can't stand being married to her. Besides, I have one more thing to tell you this time I'm back. I met Katie abroad and she showed me what true happiness is, and I have decided to marry her." 

Constantine frowned and expressed his discontent. "Leo, do you have any idea what you're doing? Duke Godfrey is an important friend and ally of the royalty, and your engagement with Madeleine is not just about the two of you, it's about the stability of the country! Now, you're telling me you're going to be with a foreign woman? Have you realized that because you left, I had to put Liam on the front, and now he's under pressure that doesn't belong to him!" 

"I know I've disappointed you with my decision, but I can't go against my heart." Leo looked down, but then raised his head firmly, without any hesitation or guilt, "I believe that Liam can take on the responsibilities of Crown Prince and that he is better suited to the position than I am." 

The atmosphere in the study grew tense, and eventually the conversation between father and son broke up. Constantine waved his hand, indicating that the conversation was over. "Well, you'd better go. I'm tired and need to rest." He stood up slowly under the help of his assistant, and his figure seemed particularly tired. 

Leo watched his father fade away with a mixture of guilt and conviction. He looked at the direction of his father's departure, his heart both worried about his father's body, but also confused about his future. Katie's smile and Cordonia's future are intertwined in his mind, making him feel more tangled and struggling than ever before. 

But he also believes time will tell. No matter how bumpy the road ahead, he will walk hand in hand with Katie to face the wind and rain of the future together. Giving up the throne does not mean he has given up on Cordonia, and he will quietly support his brother Liam in a way that is not bound by royal obligations, to do his part for his homeland in a way that suits him. 

【 Memorial Service 】 

The capital, Cordonia University. 

The mood was somber and solemn in front of the auditorium, where a memorial service was being held for the victims of the shooting. 

The sky is low, and the drizzle is endless, as if God is silently mourning for the souls of these early deaths. The rain sweeps the world in a hazy gray, covering the land with a veil of sadness. 

Around the palace, as well as far away as the university campus, and even every corner of the country, the flag is half lowered on the flagpole, swaying gently in the wind, like a silent guardian, expressing deep respect for the dead and do not give up. This silent symbol conveys the deep sorrow of the whole country over this tragedy. 

On the green belt in front of the hall, 14 white crosses stood quietly, each bearing the photos and names of the victims, and below them flickering candles whose weak but firm light was warm in the rain. All around hung black elegiac couplets, written on the sad eulogies, the living to the dead endless sorrow. 

With music playing heavily and slowly, the royal family was the first to enter the venue. King Constantine and Queen Regina entered hand in hand, their steps heavy, their faces serious. He was followed by Prince Liam, dressed in a stiff black mourning suit and with mixed emotions in his eyes. Prince Leo stood behind Liam, and although he is no longer Crown Prince, he chose to stand here and pay his respects to the victims. Each member of the royal family wears a special medallion on their chest, which they have specially made for this day of mourning. 

As the nobles entered, Madeleine was dressed in black, her face pale, her eyes both sad and unwilling. The Duchess of Olivia's bright red head shone out in the crowd, and her eyes were uncharacteristically firm, conveying a silent conviction. Duchess Bethany entered the meeting with the Beaumont family, including Bertrand and Duke Barthelemy, their eyes searching for Sophia's figure. 

In the crowd, Sophie, as a student representative, wore a pure black dress with a small white flower pinned to her chest. Her face was solemn, her eyes glistening with tears, but her steps were firm. She eased her way to the front row to sit beside Daniel and exchanged an encouraging look with Maxwell, who was also wearing a black suit. Maxwell stood alongside his brother Bertrand in the line of nobles, his eyes showing concern and support for his cousin. 

The memorial officially began, Sophie, as a student representative, held a bouquet of white flowers, slowly walked to the front of the crosses of the victims, gently placed the bouquet under one of the crosses, and offered the first bouquet of flowers in the entire activity. Then Queen Regina and King Constantine nodded. Sophia walked slowly to the podium where the royal family stood, faced the crowd and made a low bow as she delivered her speech. 

"Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, dear professors and classmates, and every friend here today," Sophia's voice was clear and firm, "we are gathered here on this special day to remember the innocent lives that were lost. Their smiles and dreams came to an abrupt end in this sudden disaster, leaving us with endless grief and thoughts." 

She paused, glancing over the rows of crosses, and continued, "But more than grief, we should remember their beautiful memories and pass on this love and hope. Together, let us pray for the dead, cheer for the living, and protect this land we love." 

Prince Liam slowly stepped forward. He looked deeply at Sophia, pulled out a badge of the same design, and gently placed it on her chest. His fingers inadvertently touched the fabric on her chest, bringing a burst of warmth to Sophie. The insignia, encrusted with tiny diamonds and glinting in the dim light, is not only a symbol of the mourning from royalty, but also a symbol of their recognition to Sophie, and Liam's deep affection for her. Their eyes met at this moment, without words, but their hearts were deeply connected. 

Constantine, Regina, Liam, and Leo sign their names in the book of Condolence and light the candle at the cross; Nobles line up, holding baskets or bouquets of flowers, and praying for the dead. Students and professors also came forward to place various memorial items in front of the cross, offering their condolences and blessings. 

As the memorial ceremony went on, more and more people from all walks of life outside the school joined the ranks of mourning spontaneously. They stood in front of the cross, or bowed their heads in silence, or whispered to each other, everyone's heart was full of condolences and wishes for the dead. 

A book of condolence, signed by members of the royal family, was set aside, filled with messages. Numerous wreaths, baskets and bouquets of flowers were placed around the white cross, adding a touch of colorful light to the oppressive weather. Mementos of all sorts - stuffed animals, schoolbags, shoes, eulogy envelopes and elegiac couplets - fill the green belt lawn. Each one carries the deep memory of the living for the dead. 

The mourning lasted from early morning until dusk. The royal palace and the campus of the heavy bell slowly tolled, the deep and distant bell, echoed in the rain, through the clouds straight to the heart. Later, 14 colorful balloons with photos and eulogies of the deceased were slowly released and struggled to rise through the rain, each carrying a message of despair for the deceased and hope for the future. Despite the rain and overcast skies, the balloons are like a rainbow of bright colors, bringing a warm glow to a land shrouded in sadness. They stagger in the air, and finally disappear in the vast rain, taking people's tears and sadness, but also leaving a faint but firm light of hope. 

The rain is still thin and dense underground, and it seems that it is crying for this tragedy. The scene was immersed in a solemn, only the sound of rain, the crackle of candles and the silent crying of people's hearts. But there was also an unyielding power in the air. In this black sea, everyone, in their own way, pays their deepest respect and memory to the 14 lives lost. The field in front of the auditorium of the University of Cordonia is today the focus of national and international attention, a witness to human grief and a witness to the brilliance of humanity shining in the darkness. This is not only a memorial event, but also a spiritual baptism and rebirth. 

 Throne Room, Palace 

Neville walked down the wide corridor slowly and stopped in front of the large doors of the throne room. For him, it was a routine practice to come here, but today his mood was particularly difficult. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Liam Rys had summoned his appearance. 

💠💠💠💠💠

Thank you for reading 💐

@choicesficwriterscreations

@choicescommunityevents

📌tags are in the comments.

[desirees-world18]

An Affair- Antoine Lambert

Show: Emily in Paris

Pairing: Antoine Lambert x OC

Warnings: minors DNI 🔞. cussing, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, begging, overstimulation, cheating, affair, and age gap. i think i got everything if not please let me know so it can be added. this is my very first written post on here so please be nice but critiques are always appreciated :)

NSFW content underneath line. enjoy:)

____________________________________________

Anastasia Kingston had always dreamed of moving to Paris. The allure of the City of Love or The City of Lights, with its charming cafés, beautiful architecture, and rich history, had captivated her since she was a child. So, when she received a job offer from Savoir, a prestigious marketing firm in Paris, she jumped at the opportunity. It was a chance to leave her small town in England behind and start anew in one of the most romantic cities in the world.

With a mixture of excitement and nerves, Anastasia arrived in Paris on a crisp autumn morning. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and the distant hum of city life. Her new apartment, a quaint studio in the Marais district, was everything she had hoped for-cozy, stylish, and quintessentially Parisian.

On her second week at Savoir, Anastasia was introduced to some of the clients they had been working with. Among them was Antoine Lambert, a charismatic and strikingly handsome man with an easy smile and an air of confidence. Antoine was the owner of Maison Lavaux, a perfume company renowned for its luxurious scents. Known for his charm and persuasive skills, he quickly caught Anastasia's attention.

One afternoon, Anastasia, Antoine, Sylvie, Luc, Julian, and Emily gathered in the Savoir conference room to discuss new scents for Maison Lavaux. The meeting was intense, filled with debates and discussions. Finally, it was Anastasia who convinced Antoine on the new perfume scent. Impressed and relieved, Antoine decided to celebrate. "How about dinner to celebrate your brilliant idea?"

Antoine asked Anastasia with a twinkle in his eye after the meeting had concluded. Anastasia hesitated but then agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement. They found themselves at a chic bistro, sharing a bottle of Bordeaux and talking long into the night. As they sipped their wine and exchanged lingering glances, the tension between them reached its peak.

Unable to resist any longer, they found themselves entwined in a passionate embrace, kissing as if the world around them had ceased to exist. Their affair began that night when Anastasia invited him back to her apartment. As they entered her cozy studio, Antoine pulled her into a passionate kiss, which quickly turned into a heated make-out session. His hands roamed her body, while hers wrapped around his neck.

He placed his hands on her hips, moving them against his growing bulge, causing her to break the kiss and moan. "You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this," he whispered, still moving her hips against him. He pulled her shirt over her head, kissing down her chest as Anastasia's moans grew more frequent and her movements more frantic. He paused to unbutton his shirt, tossing it aside, and Anastasia did the same with her bra.

He took her nipple into his mouth, alternating between her breasts, eliciting more moans from her. "Fuck, Antoine," Anastasia moaned, grinding her pant-covered core against him. Antoine pulled away from her chest to pull down his pants, and she followed suit, both discarding their bottoms, leaving only their underwear.

Antoine lowered Anastasia onto his covered erection, grinding her against him. Anastasia moved faster, pressing down harder as she felt her release approaching. One of her hands tangled in his hair, pulling at it and eliciting a low moan from him. He curled his finger upward, slowly thrusting it in and out. "I think you can handle another one," he murmured. Anastasia nodded quickly, desperate for more. He added a second finger, curling both upward before thrusting them deeper.

"What's wrong? Do you have to come?" he teased. "Y-yes, please let me come," Anastasia begged, and Antoine shook his head with a smirk. He added another finger, thrusting faster, her legs starting to spasm again. She finally released all over his fingers, which he slowly withdrew, bringing them to his mouth. "You made quite the mess," Antoine remarked, sucking her juices from his fingers while maintaining eye contact. He pulled her into a kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

He then removed her panties and his boxers, tossing them aside. Antoine ran his tip through her folds, lubing himself up before pulling Anastasia closer by her hips. He lifted her and slowly lowered her onto his cock, ensuring she felt every inch and vein. Once fully inside, he let go of her hips, allowing her to adjust to his size. "Show me how good you can ride my cock, sweet girl," Antoine urged, leaning his head back with a smirk.

She lifted herself almost to the tip before lowering herself back down, riding him harder and faster. When Anastasia started growing tired, Antoine wrapped his hands onto her hips, planted his feet onto the floor, and started roughly pounding up into her. Anastasia moaned out in shock but when she leaned her upper body back, they both moaned out as his cock hit even deeper than before.

By the time they were done, they had gone multiple rounds, tried multiple positions, and had multiple orgasms. Their encounters were filled with a mix of exhilaration and guilt. Anastasia knew Antoine was married, but she couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards him. Antoine, for his part, was equally captivated by Anastasia, finding in her a sense of excitement and freshness that had been missing in his life. Months passed, and their clandestine relationship grew more intense.

They would steal moments together whenever they could, always careful to keep their affair hidden from their colleagues and, most importantly, Antoine's wife, Catherine. One afternoon, as Anastasia and Antoine lay tangled in each other's arms in her apartment, Antoine's phone buzzed with a message. He glanced at it and froze, his face draining of color. "It's Catherine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She knows." Panic surged through Anastasia. "What are we going to do?" she asked, her mind racing with the possible consequences. "We need to talk to her," Antoine replied, his tone resolute but calm. "I'll handle it." Later that evening, Antoine returned home to find Catherine waiting for him. Her expression was composed, almost serene. "Antoine," she began, "I know about you and Anastasia."

Antoine braced himself for an onslaught of anger and accusations, but to his surprise, Catherine remained calm. "I've known for a while," she continued. "And I've had time to think about it. I'm not angry, Antoine. In fact, I'm relieved." Relieved? Antoine couldn't believe his ears. "What do you mean?" he asked, bewildered. Catherine took a deep breath. "Our marriage has been more of a partnership than a romance for some time now. I've come to realize that I want more from life, and so do you. If Anastasia makes you happy, then I won't stand in the way. I approve."

Antoine was stunned. He had never expected this reaction. Catherine's understanding and acceptance felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He nodded, gratitude and relief flooding through him. The next day, Antoine shared Catherine's response with Anastasia. She was equally shocked but felt a sense of relief and hope for the future. Their relationship, once shrouded in secrecy and guilt, now had a chance to flourish openly.

With Catherine's blessing, Anastasia and Antoine continued their romance, their bond growing stronger each day. Anastasia's life in Paris had taken an unexpected turn, but she embraced it with open arms, knowing that sometimes, the most unexpected paths lead to the most beautiful destinations.

[insomniac-hours]

18 // Imposter

This is part of my Yantober writing list Ryder the White Crewmate TW; Among Us oc, Alien oc, Blood Warning, Murder, Kidnapping Mentions, Basic Yandere Behavior

White Crewmate Yan that meets you as The Skeld took off, violet eyes taking in your smiling face and happy sounds as you chat with the other crewmates.

White Crewmate Yan that waits for you to come to him, falling in love with you in seconds as you introduce yourself to him and get comfortable quickly.

White Crewmate Yan that trails after you, doing his tasks quickly so he can have time to help you with yours.

You're too chatty, taking up too much time as you move from room to room at an almost snail-like pace but it's okay, he likes it about you after all!

White Crewmate Yan that watches over you, wanting you to be safe at all times.

White Crewmate Yan that is quick to start getting rid of others once you seem to be moving on from him.

White Crewmate Yan that happily takes up your time once you start realizing the others are dying, holding you in his arms as you fear for your life.

White Crewmate Yan that comforts you, stroking your hair and promising that he would protect you and keep you safe at all times.

White Crewmate Yan that despises Red for figuring out that something is wrong and starting to spread word that there is an imposter on board.

White Crewmate Yan that is quick to vouch for you at all times, watching as Blue, Green, Pink, and Purple get ejected so fast.

White Crewmate Yan who laughs each time another innocent crewmate dies and your trust in Red slowly fades.

White Crewmate Yan that is quick to point fingers at Red once there's only four left.

You, White, Black and Red, confused and scared Red unsure of who to blame next.

White Crewmate Yan that doesn't hesitate to stab Red and Black in minutes, violet eyes staring at you as you scream and cry in fear from his misshapen hand, a long spike replacing it.

White Crewmate Yan that is quick to grab you, yanking you into his arms and holding you against his blood-soaked chest, cooing softly as he strokes your hair in an attempt at comfort.

It would be much more comforting if he wasn't smearing blood into your hair, and you weren't terrified for your life after witnessing two of your friends die before your very eyes.

Imposter Yan that refuses to let you go now that you're his, anyone who even dares come looking for you will perish in seconds.

[tsukimefuku]

to be loved is to be changed ❖ nanami kento

summary: after an unexpected talk with gojo, you begrudgingly went to work for jujutsu high. meeting new people and encountering a friend from the past has you wondering how much things might have changed (or not).

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader based off of an oc, soft/implied nanami x oc/reader, students being students, gojo being gojo, nostalgia, fluff, some life contemplation.

wc: 2.9K

notes, etc: i wrote this to the sound of nothing in my way (keane), and i'm editing it to the sound of akatsuki no kodou (unchain). this story came into my mind as i remembered that garfield plushie image that got very famous a while ago (to be loved is to be changed). finally, "majo" means witch in japanese.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

"Gojo said he has the situation under control," you repeated to yourself, nervously, as the train approached Tokyo. You could see the sunlight darting in between the city's skyline, casting streaks of light over you and the empty seat by your side, occupied solely by your tiny luggage.  "He has it under control."

You sighed, rubbing your own arm in an unsuccessful attempt of self-comforting, just before the train slowly stopped in its tracks. Clenching your fists in knuckle-white balls, you got up, holding your dark green beaten up travel suitcase and making your way out in between hurried people. 

Every step sent a wave of impact up your legs, and you were especially concerned with the fact that you probably forgot to breathe for a few seconds. 

"He's got it under control."

Right after you exited the Shibuya train station, you darted your eyes through the crowd, trying to find him. Your cellphone, already six years ancient, barely qualified as a communication device anymore. The screen, cracked by time and your own lackluster capacity to keep things unscathed, offered little to no support if you needed to text someone. He has the six eyes, you figured, he'll probably find me before I find him, anyway.

And you were completely right.

"It's been a long time!" You heard the unmistakable voice resonating behind you, a playful cadence that vibrated through the air. Turning around, you saw Gojo waving at you, and you waved back weakly — something uncharacteristic for you, always sardonic and well carried yourself. Thing is, you were just still terrified at what Jujutsu High might be once again plotting, and how it could involve you. "How was your trip? Wow, your hair really is big."

"Anxiously ridden, pretty boy. It's been a minute," you answered, stretching forcefully a half smile on your cheek.

Instead of the characteristic pout he'd have ten years ago when you called him pretty boy, his face was covered by a frivolous smile, to which the blindfold only served to enhance its mystery and intentions.

He had changed, and so had you.

He wasn't that boy that saved you anymore.

Neither were you the person he had saved. Not anymore, at least — thankfully.

"Don't worry, everything is taken care of. I've got the car here to take us back straight to Jujutsu High."

Ah, inside the belly of the beast, it seems. Just perfect.

***

As he presented your room where you'd be until you could find an appropriate apartment or flat for yourself, you wondered where all the people could've gone. You saw some students sparring by the track field, but apart from that, the place was uneasily peaceful. 

"It's kind of… Empty around here, isn't it?" You noted. 

"Oh, we have few sorcerers, which is why having you on board will be nice. You can aid Shoko and get some weight off her shoulders. Maybe she'll even ditch the eye bags!" He chirped, jokingly. You huffed from a smile, taking in slowly what it all meant. 

A decade later, after you sworn never to come to Jujutsu High, here you were, ready to work for them.

What a ploy.

"I'll let you get settled. Then, come outside, I'd like to introduce you to the students!"

"Me? To the students? Why?" You inquired, considerably confused.

"Because you will help me in teaching these kids. Maybe you can teach them RCT, because God knows Shoko couldn't even teach me, and I'm something of a genius. Hurry up!" He playfully chanted, waltzing out of the room before you could muster up an answer.

Changed, but not so much, it seems.

After you had splayed your things on your bed, separating all your cans and glass jars, all containing an assortment of different herbs and dried ingredients, you got up, heavy heart rumbling inside your chest, as you realized you'd be venturing around the lion's den for quite some time before you could find someplace else to live.

You quietly made your way outside, innocuous thumps hitting the hardwood floor below your sock covered feet, right before you reached outside and jammed them inside the already beaten up sneakers — that is, if they could even be called that anymore.

You approached the teens, and none of them paid much attention to you as you came silently towards them. There were five of them, and… A panda? What?

Gojo clapped twice, garnering everyone's attention. There were three boys, and two girls.

"Students, please, welcome your new teacher!"

"Hello! Itadori Yuuji!" The pink haired boy chirped, happily.

"Fushiguro Megumi, it's nice to meet you," the brooding one said, bowing politely.

"Kelp."

Say what now?

"That's Inumaki Toge, he's a cursed speech user. He speaks in rice ball ingredients due to his technique," Gojo clarified.

Oh, I see.

"Finally, a woman teacher that might actually teach us something!" One of the girls said. She seemed spunky with her short red hair. "I'm Kugisaki Nobara."

Finally, you looked at the last girl who sat by the stairs, holding onto a staff that had a blade on its tip. "I'm Maki."

You then looked at the panda, and kept staring at him. Everyone was silent for a moment, as you tried to grasp what exactly was going on. 

"I'm Panda," the panda answered.

You were left dumbfounded, but decided to not inquire further, considering it might be rude.

Who the hell knows.

"It's good to meet you, guys. Hope you can learn a thing or two from me. I've lived many things," you concluded, in a somewhat ominous fashion. Your attempt of a joke fell on deaf ears, and they all seemed a little confused, if not slightly taken aback. Yuuji tried a polite laugh, but Megumi elbowed him.

Gojo chuckled, grinning widely as he put his hands on his waist. "Never mind, students. She's like that. That wasn't even the worst thing she's said out of the blue."

He turned his blindfold covered-face towards you.

"You haven't changed at all," Gojo noted.

Except you had.

"Oh, come! There's more that I want to show you before I leave to take care of some things," he then exclaimed, long strides, instantly making his way out from the students without even waving them goodbye.

You followed suit, and accompanied him hurriedly. You were by no means small, but Gojo was enormous, and had what could be called "legs for days". Each step he took, required two steps from you to keep up.

"Hurry, woman!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" You answered, pacing quickly behind him.

You both walked across the track field, went up two flights of stairs, and stopped in front of a red wooden door that made way inside one of the multiple buildings inside the campus. Seemed huge for such a short-staffed personnel.

Gojo knocked on the door three times, and waited around five seconds before effectively barging in unceremoniously.

"Come!" He yelled at you, and you began to step inside.

"Gojo, I was finishing my report about today's mission with Yaga on the phone. You should learn to wait for someone to effectively let you inside the premises after knocking," you heard a so familiar voice say.

"Nanami?" You asked, walking towards the tall blonde man in front of you. You had seen him in Tokyo around four to five years ago, completely by accident, and forgot to get his number on that opportunity. At that time, he wasn't enrolled with jujutsu affairs anymore, and you remember chastising him for it.

Now, he had a pale beige suit on, wore a blue button shirt with a yellow splatter print tie, and had a particularly unique pair of glasses covering his eyes.

"It's you!"

His eyes widened slightly as he said your name.

You nodded. "Yeah. Myself, plus the long hair. It's nice to see you again."

A genuine smile covered your face.

He tipped his head softly, "it's nice to see you again, too. What has brought you here to Jujutsu High?"

You scoffed, looking at Gojo. He lifted his hands, saying, "well, they were up plotting against her, so I just pulled a few strings that basically required her to come here."

You sighed.

"Yeah. They were up to their classic shit, I guess."

Nanami sighed back.

"I see."

"So, about your work here," Gojo began, "given you have very little experience in effectively fighting in the field to exorcize curses, Nanami is being now appointed to shepherd you until you are acclimated!"

"Say what now?" You asked, at a loss for words. Isn't jujutsu sorcery a solo sport? Why the hell am I going to have a partner?

"And who has made that decision? Gojo, you should've informed me about this beforehand. I can't be caught off guard this way."

"What?! I wanted to make a surprise! You guys haven't seen each other in a decade!" He said in his defense.

"Actually, I ran into Nanami by accident around five years ago here at Tokyo, when he was a salaryman," you replied. "He was too good for that, so I gave him a hard time and told him to go back to being a jujutsu sorcerer."

"Huh?" Gojo asked. "Five years ago?"

"Yes" Nanami acquiesced.

"I bumped into him, we had a chat, I took my train, and well, here I am, I guess," you concluded, smiling.

Gojo chuckled, and put his hands in his pockets, realizing the timing.

"Are you sure you still want to complain about shepherding her?" He asked Nanami, with a hint of mischief in his voice.

Nanami sighed, yet again.

"I have no objections on that matter. I'd just like to have been informed beforehand."

"Oh, come on, Nanami. Gojo tried his best to make a surprise, he just disregarded the fact that you clearly hate surprises."

"Hey!" Gojo complained.

Nanami shook his head at Gojo's antics, but underneath his blank facade, you saw the all too familiar amusement he had all the times you picked fun at Gojo.

We haven't changed. Have we?

***

Weeks had passed, and you couldn't live another second like this. You just couldn't.

The long hair getting glued to the back of your neck, sweaty tangles that took eons to brush out, was simply becoming too much of a hassle.

You sat in the bathroom, on the toilet, shortly after your latest mission with Nanami, and grabbed the first pair of scissors you could find inside your own small bag of toiletry amenities — they were for cutting nails, at most, and fit pathetically small inside your palms.

Grunting, you got up and walked towards the mirror of the collective bathroom, ready to start chopping your hair away, because the mere thought that it would still be there in the following hour reveled your body with anticipated discomfort.

At that moment, both Nobara and Maki, two of the students you had been teaching closely these last few weeks, went inside the bathroom. They stopped in their tracks, looking at you, doubtfully, as you held a black lock of hair extended to the side of your head, flaunting the tiny scissors underneath it.

"Sensei, what are you doing?" Nobara asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm cutting my hair," you answered, ready to start trimming.

Maki and Nobara stared at you for a moment.

You sighed.

"Look, I don't know anything properly around here, leaving the campus is usually a pain in the ass for me because I still don't understand how this assistant shenanigans works, and I just need to cut this hair out before I go completely insane." You sighed. "And this manicure scissors are all I have. So I'm cutting my hair."

Nobara and Maki shared a brief look between them.

"Sensei, with all due respect," Maki began.

You looked at her from the reflex on the mirror.

"You definitely are not cutting your hair like that."

"Huh?" You mumbled.

"Look, I have better scissors with me. Let me get them and we can help you. I'm pretty familiar with it, I take care of my hair myself." Nobara offered, approaching you.

You pondered for a moment. "Okay. I really could use some help."

Around an hour had passed since the girls had run into you in the bathroom. They took you back to your room, properly put a towel around your neck, and Nobara chipped away at your rich thick black locks of hair as she and Maki complained about their peer's latest shenanigans. Apparently, Inumaki and Panda were given to stealing their jackets and skirts to run around the campus. You chuckled at the image of that, up until Nobara reminded you she had a sharp pair of scissors to your hair.

After you were finished, you looked into the tiny mirror you had on your makeshift dorm room, and saw the same face from ten years ago, with the same short black hair.

Was it the same, though?

***

You had been feeling specially sad for the past few days. After finishing another mission with Nanami, you both went back to campus, and you had offered him your classic Oka tea, which you both drank many times together in Odate, ten years prior.

The Oka tea, your specialty, the secret recipe of your family — your pride.

However, when you searched through your herbs, dried ingredients and spices you brought, you realized the dried orange was completely missing.

You knew, as well as anyone in your family, that the Oka tea could never miss any ingredient, especially the dried orange slices.

I'm so sorry, Nanami. I wanted to teach you to make some Oka tea today, but I just can't do it without the dried orange slices. It's just not Oka tea without it. You remembered saying.

You weren't usually that attached to recipesto such a personal degree, but being here, in Jujutsu High, elicited so many memories from your past that you felt homesick, and the only way you knew you could taste home back again would be with a warm cup of Oka tea.

Nanami wasn't annoyed at your upsetting at all, and pointed out that recipes really were meant to be followed in order to obtain the best outcome when cooking.

Right now, you were sitting at the tiny kitchen they had for the use of people that lived inside campus, and you felt heartbroken, missing your tea, as you gazed at all the other ingredients you had left on the counter since then. 

There was a knock on the door, and you told the person to come in. It was Nanami, and he carried a plastic bag with him.

"Hey, Nanami," you greeted, slightly disheartened. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He put the bag over the counter and looked at you.

"I bought us some dried orange slices for you to make your tea."

"... What?" You looked inside the bag, and sure enough, there was a small plastic packaging with some dried orange slices inside it. "Nanami, thank you so much."

"It wasn't troublesome at all, there is a store that sells dried ingredients and similar types of products near where I live."

You smiled at him.

"Well, now I can show you the recipe, then."

He nodded.

"I hadn't anticipated you'd actually be missing any ingredient for this tea, or to not have it already prepared and at your disposal," the sorcerer huffed, amusement and nostalgia glimmering underneath his chiseled passiveness. "I remember you usually tossed into hot water some packets that you, for some reason, always kept on yourself, and it always tasted the same. It was an unexpectedly odd phenomenon," Nanami pointed out, referring to the time you both spent working together at Odate.

"Haven't you heard? I'm a majo."

You poked fun at your own past, when you were shunned, called and treated like a witch by the very people from your hometown.

The faintest hint of a smile covered his face.

After mixing up all the ingredients, including the dried orange slices Nanami had brought you, walking him step by step on how to make Oka tea, you served one cup for each.

The smell was familiar, and you could almost see the snow that engulfed the first two decades of your life falling again all around you.

Then, you took a sip, and you were completely taken aback. Nanami noticed it, and drank the tea too, looking slightly puzzled at his mug.

"It has a different taste" he noted, looking at you. "Was any other ingredient missing?"

You looked at him, then at the mug, then at him again. You were positively sure you followed the exact same recipe you had been making for the past 18 years. It could be the quality of the dried orange slices, but it was unlikely. This was just strange, overall.

Then, you pondered.

"It's not bad, it's just… different."

Indeed, the tea still had no need for added sugars or sweeteners, and had the same everlasting flowery and citrus smell, so characteristic to it. 

"Yes. It tastes very good." Nanami replied, taking another sip, contently. "This would go well with some croissants and jam."

You chuckled.

"Yeah, it would."

"So, what happened? Do you have any ideas?" He inquired.

You shrugged.

"I don't know. It just changed, I guess."

"Hm," he finally hummed, looking at you as you began brushing the nape of your hair with your fingers, smiling at yourself, gazing at the cup of tea.

To be loved is to be changed.

—

End notes:

I wrote this in about a 1-1:30h sitting, and I’m so happy at how it turned out.

If you liked it and could spare some time to leave a comment, I’d be very happy. 💜