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cressidagrey · 9 days ago

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It's a Love Story - Chapter 9

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

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

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

Warning:

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

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

Rhys had the seething hot realisation that he had really fucked up on Winter Solstice.

Before that…well. He could still pretend.

Pretend that maybe Azriel just needed time. That he just needed…time to adjust and would get over himself eventually.

Would get over Solstice two years ago. Would get over Mor finding her mate in Emerie… Would get over it all.

That it was just him moping and licking his wounds and he would be back to normal. That maybe he just needed to punch Rhys, get it out of his system and it would be done.

So Rhys had baited him.

Repeatedly.

Azriel didn’t fight. Didn’t protest.

As a boy…Az had attacked snarling and growling, furious and vicious.

Rhys had waited for that same exact result.

Nothing of that sort had happened.

Now…Now Azriel just looked at him, eyes dark and cold…

“Why should I tell you? I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

And then he turned and left. Not giving them a second look.

Rhys could just stare at him.

He had expected anger, protests, anything. But this...this was worse.

This was Azriel putting him on notice that he didn't trust Rhys at all anymore.

For a moment it was silent.

Then Cassian broke it.

"Give me one good reason, why I shouldn't fucking snap your neck for talking to my brother like that," Cassian seethed. "One reason."

"I didn't...think...

"You didn't think?" Cassian repeated, his voice sharp and incredulous. "Really? You didn't think that your words and actions could have a negative impact on Azriel? You just expected him to be fine after you basically told him that you don't trust him to act like an adult around Elain? That you think Elain and Mor are more important than him? You're unbelievable, Rhys."

"I did what was best for the court," Rhys protested feebly.

"Yes, a spymaster that doesn't trust his High Lord is incredibly good for our court," Cassian agreed with a sage nod, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You told him to go to a fucking pleasure hall and pay for it? You told Azriel of all people that?! What is fucking wrong with you, Rhys?!"

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh. "I was trying to make a point, Cassian," he said. "He wasn't really in love with Elain, he just liked the idea of her."

Cassian gaped at Rhys, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "That's bullshit, Rhys, and you know it," he snapped. "Azriel had feelings for Elain, real feelings. Maybe still has them. Who knows. He was ready to die, so that Lucien could live. He did that for her. Tell me to my face again that he didn't really love her."

Rhys ran a hand over his face, his frustration clear. "I...I may have underestimated the depth of Azriel's feelings for Elain," he admitted grudgingly. "But my duty as High Lord is to protect my court first and foremost. And I really didn't want to deal with a Blood Duel. Beron was still in play then, before Eris got rid of him. If he got wind..."

"I understand your duties, Rhys," Cassian said, his voice gentler now. "But you went too far this time. You crossed a line, and Azriel feels betrayed and hurt. You dismissed his feelings as if they didn't matter, and that's not right. He's not just your spymaster or soldier, he's your brother."

He was. Which was exactly why Rhys didn't want him anywhere near that particular powder keg at that time. And then Elain had already chosen her mate, and Rhys thought with that...it was done.

"He's just being stubborn. He'll get over himself eventually," Rhys said. Right?

That's how far he got, before Cassian punched him straight into the nose.

Rhys stumbled back, clutching his nose. "What the hell, Cassian?" he demanded, his voice muffled by the blood gushing from his nose.

Cassian stared at him, his expression unreadable. "You are really, really stupid, Rhys. Idiotic. Azriel’s not being stubborn, he's heartbroken. Hurt. Betrayed. And you treat his feelings as if they are nothing!"

Rhys winced, his eyes watering from the pain and the accusation in Cassian's words. "I...I just wanted to protect him. I thought it was for the best..."

Cassian barked out a sharp laugh. "You were doing more harm than good, Rhys. You can't just push someone's feelings aside because it's convenient for you. That's not how relationships work, especially not between brothers."

"And what the fuck were you thinking when you told him to behave about Mor?! Did you ever even consider to maybe try and get Mor to talk to Azriel? That maybe that would be a good solution? Make her apologise for treating him like she did treat him? Azriel had every fucking right to be hurt and angry at her. He would have had every fucking right and Mor would have needed to accept that!"

Rhys winced again. "I...I just didn't want any… arguments, Cassian. Mor and Emerie are happy now. I didn't want to dredge up old hurts and cause tensions within the court."

"So because Azriel keeps his feelings quiet and doesn't complain, you just treated him like shit. Great job, High Lord," Cassian drawled.

Rhys flinched at Cassian's words. Deep down he knew Cassian was right. He had been too focused on preserving the peace and avoiding conflict, that he had overlooked and dismissed Azriel's feelings.

"Azriel has done everyhting in his power to make everybody around him comfortable. Nobody ever does the same for him," Cassian said darkly. "I fucked up too, you know. With Mor. With not being there when I should be...but at least I never told Azriel to Behave like he is either your dog or a child." Cassian shook his head. "I have no fucking clue if you even can fix this, Rhys, even if you wanted to. He clearly doesn't trust you at all anymore."

That had just become very fucking clear.

"I...I never meant to hurt him," Rhys said, his voice cracking. "I just...I thought I was doing what was best for him. For everyone."

"Azriel was willing to go to war for you," Cassian said sharply. "We both were. We knew that everything involving you and Feyre and Tamlin was a war waiting too happen. But we took that risk. And hwne it was time for you to take that risk for your brother, you chose your court over him, Rhys. I get it. I understand why you did it, even if I disagree...I could forgive you that. BUt you telling Azriel to go to a pleasure hall, because he doesn't know his own feelings..."

Rhys felt the weight of Cassian's words settling in his gut like a heavy stone. He had never considered that his actions could be interpreted that way. "But...you have to understand, Cassian. I have responsibilities, a duty to the Night Court and its people. I have to consider the impact every decision has."

“And in this, you were also Azriel’s brother,” Cassian cut him off. “I don’t care about your reasoning. You need to start with a fucking apology. You treated him worse than you would every other of your soldiers.”

Rhys swallowed.

To say that Cassian was furious…That was a fucking understatmeent.

And even if…even if he ignored this…there was something else that…

"His mother..." he wasn't sure how to ask that question.

"Azriel made that decision," Cassian said calmly. "He didn't want you to feel like that was in any way your fault because you sealed Velaris for 50 years. Quite frankly...I think Azriel's mother has been searching for an excuse not to see him anymore for a very long time."

Rhys' expression fell, the weight of guilt pressing down on him even more heavily now, if that was even possible. "I...I didn't know," he said quietly. "I...I really didn't know that it had come to this between Azriel and his mother. I...I really didn't, Cassian, I swear."

"Of course you didn't. We kept it from you," Cassian said drily. "Azriel does know how to keep a secret. Which we have just seen. I had absolutely no clue that he has met his mate."

Rhys swallowed. This should...It should have been...something happy that Azriel met his mate. He should have been telling Rhys and Cassian all about it, eyes alight with excitement and not...not spit it out just to spite Rhys.

He had really messed it up this time, hadn't he? Rhys knew that he had to make things right with Azriel, even if it meant facing the hard truth about how he had failed him as a brother and a High Lord.

"Who do you think she is?" he asked weakly.

Cassian stared at him. "I don't fucking care. She can be Sellyn Drake for all I care and I'll be her very best friend as long as she treats Azriel well and makes him happy," Cassian told him tightly. "And you...You'll keep out of it."

Rhys recoiled as if he had been slapped, but he knew Cassian was righr. He had lost the right to be involved in Azriel's personal life, and it was his own fault.

"An apology is the least you owe Azriel, Rhys. And you owe Mor the fucking truth as well. Namely that the only reason that Azriel is probably civil to her, is that you ordered him to. Actually, you owe all of us the truth."

Rhys grimaced. He knew that he had to come clean and face the consequences of his actions, even if it meant causing more chaos and unrest within his court. "Feyre is going to kill me," he mumbled under his breaht. Cassian didn't look sorry in the slightest.

"Then you shouldn't have behaved like a fucking asshole," Cassian gave back flatly. "Let's go back to Velaris. We'll have this discussion now.”

Rhys nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the difficult conversation that was awaitng him.

"What happened to your nose?" Feyre asked as soon as he entered the River House. "Where's Az?"

"I broke it," Cassian gave back drily. "Don't worry, Rhysand deserves worse."

Rhys grimaced at the thought of having to explain the whole situation to Feyre. "Azriel...he got...upset. We had a fight. And Cassian punched me. It's...it's complicated," Rhys mumbled.

"Correction," Cassian snapped. "You were an utter prick to Azriel, who decided that he would rather spent Winter Solstice with his mate that none of us knew existed. And I punched you, because you didn't even fucking understand what you did wrong in the first place."

Feyre's eyes widened in disbelief as she listened to Cassian's explanation. "Rhys, what is he talking about?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Why would Azriel get so upset?"

"Because apparently, Little Rhysie in his infinite wisdom, did not only tell Azriel and I quote "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it," when he found out about Azriel's crush on Elain, but has also apparently spent the last 2 years telling my brother to "behave" like he's some kind of dog," Cassian said sarcastically. Rhys grimaced. "You should consider yourself lucky that I only broke your nose," Cassian told him darkly. "I ought to fucking throttle you for doing this to Az."

Shock and anger poured all over the mating bond and he met Feyre’s eyes with no small amount of trepidation.

Feyre stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and disappointment. "Is that true, Rhys? Did you really say that to Azriel?"

"Feyre Darling..." he started.

*Did you really tell Azriel "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it.”?* she demanded mentally.

Rhys winced, knowing that he couldn't lie to Feyre through the bond. *I...I may have said something along those lines,* he admitted reluctantly.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at Rhys. "And the whole 'behave' thing?" she asked sharply.

Rhys looked down, unable to meet Feyre's gaze. "I...I may have used that phrase a few times," he said quietly.

"A few times?" Feyre repeated, her voice rising in anger. "How many times, Rhys? How many times did you tell Azriel to 'behave' because of his feelings for Elain?"

“It wasn’t about Elain. It was also about Mor,“ Cassian said drily.

“What?“ Mor demanded.

Rhys winced as he realized that the truth was about to come out.

"Mor, I-"

Mor's eyes narrowed as she took in Rhys' reaction. "Tell me, Rhysand. What did you say to Azriel about me?"

Rhys sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn't avoid this conversation anymore. "I...I may have told Azriel to 'behave' around you and Emerie. I was afraid that his feelings for you would cause tension within the court."

Mor's eyes widened in disbelief. "You told him to behave around me?” She swallowed these beautiful brown eyes lined with tears. “You…I thought…I thought he was…he was happy for us but it’s was only because you told him to behave. I let him be, I didn’t try to talk to him, because he seemed fine.”

Rhys winced at Mor's words, feeling the weight of his actions. "I thought it would be easier for everyone, Mor.”

“Easier to make him lie?” Mor asked him, her voice tight. “Easier to forbid him to express his actual feelings? I know…I didn’t behave right with him but I thought we were better. But we weren’t. He was just acting like everything was fine so you wouldn’t lay into him and punish him for misbehaving!”

Rhys felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "I...I never meant to hurt him, Mor. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone."

Mor shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. "You weren't doing what was best for him. You were doing what was easiest for you."

Rhys dropped his gaze, knowing that he had brought this situation upon himself. "I...I don't know how to make it right," he admitted. "I've lost his trust, and I don't know if I can ever earn it back."

Amren huffed, crossing her arms, her dark eyes glittering with annoyance. "Well, you certainly made a mess of things, Rhysand." She leaned in closer, her voice low and intense. "But you'd better find a way to fix it. And fast. Because we're not just talking about Azriel here. We're talking about the future of this court."

Rhys nodded tightly. "I know," he said quietly.

He was very much aware what it would mean to their court if Azriel decided to leave them. The disadvantage they woul find themselves in…and this didn’t even start to cover the personal loss of losing his brother.

“Leave him be,” Nesta said at that moment.

Rhys turned to Nesta, his expression conflicted. "I can't just do nothing, Nesta. He's my brother,” he told his sister-in-law, but Nesta wasn’t having it, sticking out her chin.

"And yet you treated him like some kind of attack dog who needed to be kept under control. That's not how you treat a brother, Rhys," she seethed. “I ought to stab you.”

Rhys flinched at Nesta's words, knowing that she was right. "I know," he said quietly. "I was wrong, and I need to make things right with him."

"You sure as hell better," Cassian growled. "Azriel doesn't deserve any of this bullshit."

***

To his surprise… Sky was at home.

He hadn’t thought she would be there…he thought he would be greeted by an annoyed Hector, who would be bitchy that it was him coming home and not Sky.

But Hector was nowhere to be seen. He could hear his meowing though.

He found his mate buried in their bed, seemingly all the blankets in the house put on top of herself…and Hector pawing at the mountain of blankets, demanding to be let in.

"Are you hiding from the world, my love?" He asked softly, as he crawled into the bed next to her, lifting a few blankets so Hector could slither underneath them, which he did immediately. He carefully pulled the blankets away from her face and Sky looked at him, eyes red from crying.

In the same breath he suddenly picked up the salty scent of tears. That was all he needed to pull her into his arms.

“I thought you were having dinner with your family,” Sky whispered, her voice hoarse, burying her face against his chest.

“Didn’t end well,” he told her drily. “Yours?”

“Didn’t end well either,” she said with a laugh that turned into a sob.

A soft sniffle. No. Not again. He couldn’t deal with her crying. He couldn’t…it ripped apart his hear to see his mate like that and he held her tighter."It's all right, love," he murmured, holding her close. "I'm here with you now. Let it all out." He gently ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.

"Tell me what's happened," he said gently, his voice filled with concern.

“I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” Sky whimpered.

He nearly wanted to laugh at the pure ridiculousness of that statement. Sky, the sweetest person he had ever met, a horrible person? Not possible.

"You're not a horrible person," he said firmly. "Not at all. You're the kindest, most compassionate person I've ever met."

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds.”

He needed a moment to parse it, her stutter worse than he had ever heard it.

“What?” he could just ask dumbly as he blinked. Sky? Sky had said what?!

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds,” she repeated and began to cry again, hiding her face in her hands. “I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” she whimpered.

Azriel gently took her hands in his, guiding them away from her face. "You're not a horrible person, sweetheart," he said firmly.

She wasn’t.

He highly doubted that Sky had said that without…without her sister saying something worse first.

And it wasn’t like it wasn’t…"Besides…you said nothing that wasn’t true,” Azriel said drily.."

Sky hiccuped out a laugh and then started crying in the earnest again.

“That’s why you are so upset?” He asked softly, against her warm skin. “You aren’t a horrible person. I swear.

“N..no.” Sky said softly. “I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again.”

Azriel's heart sank at her words. "Your family? Why…why are you never seeing them again?"

“I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again. Not after what they…they said.” She was dead serious. He could hear that in her voice.

And it was…

Azriel's heart clenched at the thought of her severing ties with her family, of her…they treated her horrible but Sky loved them. Sky loved them so much. So much more than they deserved. "What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

Sky took a shaky breath, struggling to get the words out. "They... They said…said so…some things," she whispered, her voice quavering. "Things I can't…I can’t for…forgive them for."

"What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked again, his voice gentle yet firm. "I want to know."

He wanted to know. And then he wanted to kill them for upsetting her like this.

Sky closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "You do…don’t want to know."

Azriel took her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. "I do want to know," he corrected her softly. "Because whatever they said, it hurt you, and I want to be there for you."

“They…They had a pro…problem with the fact that you were Ill…Illyrian,” she whispered.

Ah. “You don’t need to say anything more,” he said wryly. “But I promise that I have heard worse. If you still want to be around them…” he hated how they treated sky but he was not about to let her cut off contact with her family just because they didn’t like him. He could deal with that. He had survived worse.

Sky shook her head fiercely. "No,” she said, her voice so weak…and so definitive. “No.”

Azriel's heart swelled with love for her as she stood her ground. "I understand, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling her closer. "If that's what you want, I'll stand by you, whatever you decide. But I don't want you to make this decision because of me."

“They…They told me that you were a cre…creature and a mo..monster and that they were surprised you hadn’t rip…ripped me apart. My father threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t give up the m��mating bond. So I told him I never wanted to hear a single word from him ever again,” she whispered, her voice growing stronger.

Azriel's eyes darkened with anger as she recounted the hurtful things her family had said about him. He tightened his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, Sky," he whispered. "You don't deserve any of this. And your family doesn't deserve you."

“I coul…couldn't just…just sit there and let them say those ter…terrible things about you, about us,” Sky whispered. “I can't be around people who would say those kinds of things about the person I love the most in the world."

“…you love me?” He whispered in wonder.

She loved him? She chose him? Even over her family? Even…

Sky looked up at him, these blue eyes looking at him. “Yes. More than anything.”

He swallowed, his heart swelling.

"I love you too, Sky. More than anything," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful that I have you in my life."

Sky smiled, her eyes shining with love. "You….You don't have to do a…anything to deserve me, Azriel. You just have to be yourself. That's all I've ever wanted. And I wouldn't change a thing about you. You're perfect, just the way you are."

Azriel felt a lump form in his throat. "I'm far from perfect, Sky," he said, his voice rough. "But I promise you, I will always do my best to make you happy. That's all I want."

He pressed soft kisses all over her face, making her giggle softly.

“Let’s just have our own Solstice celebration,“ he whispered softly.

Sky smiled at the idea. "Th..That sounds p…perfect," she whispered. “Just the two of us, together. It's a..all I need."

There still was a rabbit he had hunted in the cooling cabinet…and so while Azriel took care of cooking thst, Sky was making…something that involved stale bread, milk, eggs and plenty of sugar for dessert.

Azriel smiled as he watched her work. "What in the world are you making, love?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder. "It smells delicious."

Sky grinned, holding up the bowl she was stirring. "It's…It’s a bread pudding," she said. "I found an old recipe in a c…cookbook. It's supposed to be a t…traditional Winter Solstice dessert."

Azriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart," he said, chuckling. "I can't wait to try it." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his heart full of adoration for her.

Sky blushed at his affection. "I just hope it turns out okay," she said, adding a pinch of cinnamon to the mix. "But even if it doesn't, it will be p…perfect just because we're together."

Azriel smiled at her words, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "You're right," he said softly. "As long as we're together, it doesn't matter what we eat or what we do. Just being with you is a gift in itself."

“You should write poetry,” his mate told him sweetly and he couldn’t help but laugh. He had picked up one of the poetry books she kept weeks ago and had found the whole thing… well. As long as Sky liked it…

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think I have the talent for poetry, sweetheart," he said, grinning. "But I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Sky playfully nudged him with her shoulder. "Oh come on, I'm sure you could write the most beautiful sonnets if you r…really tried," she teased. "I've heard you whisper s…sweet nothings in my ear before, and they sound pretty poetic to me."

Azriel laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “I'll leave the sonnets to the experts and just continue whispering sweet nothings to you instead,” he promised her softly.

“Sounds perfect to me,” she agreed brightly.

Dinner with Sky was better than any dinner with the inner circle could be. Roasted rabbit and crusty bread, followed by caramel bread pudding…

And then it was just him and Sky wrapped into each others arms on the couch, with Hector stretched out in front of the fireplace, blankets wrapped around him…

They had promised each other to not go overboard with gifts. But clearly oone of them had not listened, which hadn’t been him… there was a pile of wrapped gifts appearing on the couch table.

Azriel raised an eyebrow at the pile of gifts, chuckling. "Well, someone certainly didn't stick to our agreement, did they?" he teased, glancing at Sky with a playful smile. "Not that I mind, of course," he added, reaching for one of the packages. "I just hope my gift isn't embarrassingly small in comparison."

“…I…I only got you o…one thing,“ Sky admitted weakly, staring at the pile of gift.

Then who… Azriel stared at the shadows who were swirling happily around sky.

“I think I know the culprit,” he said drily.

*I thought I told you not to buy her anything new,* he told them drily.

*We didn’t!* they assure him.

Azriel chuckled at the insistent swirling of the shadows. "I don't know, love," he said with a grin. "It seems like my shadows are feeling particularly generous this year." He reached for the nearest gift and handed it to her. "Here, why don't you open this one first?"

“You got me something?” Sky asked the shadows. “You shouldn’t have! I didn’t get anything for you!”

Azriel laughed, knowing that it was pointless to try and reason with the shadows when they were in a playful mood like this. "They don't care about that, love," he said, nudging her gently. "They just want to make you happy. Go on, open it."

Azriel had no idea what to even give the shadows anyway. *You could give us permission to ruin her sisters life,* they told him brightly

Azriel laughed again, shaking his head. *As tempting as that may be, I don’t think that's the best way to spread the holiday cheer,* he said drily.

*She deserves it,* the shadows murmured. *We wouldn’t outright kill her…*

*No, you’ll find some mischievous and chaotic way to torment her and make her life miserable,* he retorted with a grin. *Don’t physically harm her,* he warned them quietly. Tacit approval. The shadows danced in the spot as Sky opened the first box. Velvet wrapped.

Jewellery.

A chicken egg sized sapphire in the middle of a necklace consisting out of sapphire and diamonds. He just sighed. Sky stared.

“Please…Please t…tell me that’s n..not r..real,“ she said weakly, her voice shaking.

*Of course it’s real,* the shadows assured her like even the suggestion of it being fake was an affront. *Master’s mate doesn’t wear fake gems!*

Azriel would have liked to face palm.

"I'm afraid the shadows insist that they only give the best for their master's mate," he said wryly.

„This must have cost a fortune!“ Sky protested. “Where am I even supposed to wear it?“

Azriel chuckled, "I wouldn't waste my breath trying to argue with the shadows. And as for where you're supposed to wear it, well… anywhere you want, really, love."

*Please tell me you didn’t steal that,* he told the shadows

*We didn't! We got it fair and square!* the shadows protested innocently.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, not quite believing them. *And how exactly did you manage that?* he asked dryly.

*We paid for it,* they told him innocently, fluttering around like they hadn’t bought her the biggest and most expensive sapphire he had ever seen.

“I can’t…“ Sky trailed off.

“You’ll break their heart if you turn it down,“ Azriel said with a sigh."Just accept it, love," he said gently. "They mean well, even if they have a tendency to overdo it sometimes,” he said pointedly, something the shadows happily ignored. "They have their own line of credit, so whatever they buy is theirs to do with as they please," he said drily.

Sky grimaced, staring down at the necklace…

"Please…please tell me there isn't…isn’t more pr…priceless je…jewellery in that stack?" she asked with a grimace. "

Azriel laughed, "I wish I could tell you that, but knowing the shadows, I wouldn't be surprised if they've bought you enough jewelry to start your own royal collection."

They had behaved...mostly.

If one ignored the hair comb dripping with some other blue stone...and the earrings that matched that necklace...and the quill that he was pretty sure was encrusted with actual diamonds.

Otherwise they had procured plenty of books for Sky, and had somehow found her a whole stack of notebooks…

(He was pretty sure they lied to him when they told him that they hadn’t bought any of this stuff knew. Where had they kept it otherwise?!)

Azriel couldn't help but shake his head in amusement as Sky opened each gift one by one. "Well, at least they managed to keep it under control for the most part," he said with a wry smile. "But knowing them, I'm sure there's still more where that came from."

Sky's eyes widened as she looked at all the gifts. "This is too much," she protested weakly. "I don't deserve all of this," she muttered. He would have argued, but instead he just pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thank you very much," she thanked the shadows that happily twirled around her hair at her words.

Azriel chuckled, watching the shadows twirling in the air around Sky's head. "I think you just made their day," he said with a grin. "They're always happy to spoil you, love."

"I…I just hope they re…realize that I have a…absolutely no place to wear all of this," she said with a laugh. "I don't want to look like a walking jewelry store every time I leave the house…"

Azriel chuckled, "Well, they do have a bit of a tendency to go overboard when it comes to their gifts. But I can't really blame them, they just want to make you happy." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his eyes twinkling with love. "And you deserve everything and more, love, even if it makes you look like a walking jewelry store every once in a while."

She melted into the kiss.

"I went a very different route for your gift," she told him drily, handing him a sole gift bag.

The first thing he pulled from it was a tin of tuna.

The laughter was immediate. He couldn't help it. Deep belly laughter, his amusement apparent, warmth filling his chest. Azriel couldn't help but burst into laughter as he pulled the tin of tuna from the gift bag. "Is this for Hector or for me?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"I did promise to buy you tuna," Sky gave back with a laugh. "I just thought it would set the tone for the second gift."

The second gift he pulled from the bag was a knitted sweater. Slits down the back for his wings...made out of thick and warm and soft black yarn.

Azriel's laughter faded into a gentle smile as he took in the knitted sweater. "Sky, is this..." He trailed off, fingers brushing the soft, warm fabric. "Did you make this?"

"I did promise to knit you a sweater too," she said simply.

Azriel couldn't help but melt at her words, feeling his heart fill with warmth. "You remembered," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe you made this for me, sweetheart." He pulled Sky into a tight embrace, feeling her heart beat in sync with his. "It's perfect," he murmured, his voice muffled against her hair. "Just like you."

"I'm glad you like it," Sky said softly. "I know it's not as a King’s ransom in diamonds… but I wanted to give you something that was made with love."

Azriel pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression softening even more. "It means so much more to me because you made it," he said, his voice tender. "I'll cherish it always, just like I cherish you. Though I must admit my present is going to pale in comparison to that egg sized sapphire too," he told her drily.

Sky laughed, leaning into Azriel's embrace. "Well, to be fair, it's hard to compete with a sapphire that size," she said with a grin. "But I'm sure whatever you got me is perfect, even if it's not worth a small fortune."

It kinda was though. Even though it didn't look that way…mostly because he had spent a good few weeks until he had found a stone that even had a chance to stand next to her eyes. An oval sapphire flanked by two diamonds...set in white gold.

Azriel handed her the last box, trying to appear nonchalant. "Here, open this one," he said, trying to hide his nervousness. "I hope you like it."

Sky carefully untied the silk ribbon wrapped around the box and lifted the lid, her eyes widening in awe as she took in the ring inside.

"Marry me," it burst out of him.They had already accepted a mating bond. A marriage would be nothing more than a couple of vows in front of a priestess. But he...he wanted...

Azriel's heart was racing as he watched Sky's reaction to the ring, hoping and praying that she felt the same way he did. "I know that we already have the mating bond," he said softly. "But I want more than that, sweetheart. I...I want everything."

These devastating eyes lifted, looking at him."I want to spend every day for the rest of my life by your side," he continued, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night. I want to build a life with you, a family with you." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I want to make it official, in every way possible. Will you marry me, Sky?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, a hundred times yes. I want all of that too, and more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to be by your side every step of the way. I want to build a life together, a family together."

Quite frankly, Azriel thought that this Winter Solstice may be the best one he ever had, as she kissed him.

"We could get started on making that family," Sky told him, biting her lips as she pulled back. "You know how High Fae fertility can be...could take us decades..."

Azriel's eyes widened at her words, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, love?" he asked, his voice low and raspy as he pulled her close.

Sky nodded, her expression shy and hopeful as she looked up at him. "I…I want to be a mother s…someday," she said softly. "And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have children with than you."

Azriel felt his heart melt at her words. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found someone who loved him as much as Sky did. "I want that too, love," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Nothing would make me happier than to have a family with you."

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #it’s a love story

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hannieehaee · 23 days ago

Note

svt with a high maintenance s/o

having a high maintenance s/o

content: established relationship, joke about being a sugar daddy, fluff, etc.

wc: 578

a/n: considering they're all rich im pretty sure they would all pay for your high maintenance lol!

masterlist

seungcheol -

you literally own his credit card. he would not care how much money you spent from it bc he has more than enough that there's no way you could even make a dent on it. nothing makes him happier than providing for you!!

jeonghan -

as expected of jeonghan, he babies you like crazy. buys you food, gas, clothes, skin care, you name it. never judges you for being high maintenance bc he kind of is too. he's actually amused by how high maintenance you are, but enjoyes being an spectator to it.

joshua -

he seems very high maintenance himself so you'd make the perfect couple lmao. he'd insist on paying for your stuff and would join you in any self-care days.

jun -

constantly curious about what new thing you've bought or how you did your nails or hair or what you were up to last weekend while he was away. super interested in your life and what occupies it. loves to be able to be the one to pay for your needs and interests.

soonyoung -

always in awe at you. he can tell you're high maintenance just by looking at you and he loves it! feels proud to give you everything you want, always fussing and blushing when the subject came up bc like of course he's gonna pay for everything you need! he's your boyfriend, so duh!

wonwoo -

he doesnt seem that high maintenance himself but you'd create the perfect contrast together. always amused at what new thing you got done that week, wanting to see your new nails or hear about the new restaurant you went to. nonchalantly pays all your bills bc that's just a boyfriend's duty to him.

jihoon -

he's likely the richest member of svt, so neither money nor high maintenance are a problem to him. loves knowing you're well taken care of and never wants you to feel like you have to ask him for something. you can just have anything you want.

seokmin -

he's the perfect boyfriend personified. gives you anything you want and more. actually loves that you're high maintenance bc it gives him more chances to give you things and take care of you more.

mingyu -

he's constantly sending you gifts or booking spa days or massages for you even without you asking. will also pay for your nails, hair, clothes, food, etc. you never even have to ask for anything, he'll have bought it in advance.

minghao -

chuckles at how many packages arrive at your shared home per week, but other than that, he has no comments. he just enjoys giving you things, so you'll never catch him complaining.

seungkwan -

he strikes me as high maintenance himself, so i think he'd be very down to be with someone who has a similar lifestyle. tends to you emotionally, physically and financially. shares self-care days with you and buys you anything you could possibly need.

vernon -

he's known to have a shit ton of boxes at his house, so he's not one to complain if you were to spend any money on your high maintenance. he's the epitome of 'yesssir!' and will literally say that to you any time you ask for something.

chan -

will joke about being your sugar daddy but actually really enjoys being able to pay for your high maintenance habits. it makes him feel dependable and mature to provide you with your needs and interests. feels proud of how you present yourself due to it.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt reactions #seventeen reactions

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night-raven-tattler · 9 months ago

Text

Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #jade leech #epel felmier #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #epel felmier x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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navybrat817 · 11 months ago

Text

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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milkloafy · 6 months ago

Text

A SMOOTH CRIMINAL

⋆｡˚ ❀ pairing: wriothesley x gn!reader ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.4k ⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you play a harmless prank on your close friend, neuvillette, and he decides to retaliate by sending you to the fortress of meropide for your so-called “crimes”

You weren’t exactly a hardened criminal.

Sure you had some bouts of harmless thievery as a child but even then you always returned the item to the owner out of guilt. So, how you got sent to the Fortress of Meropide for messing with your friend was beyond you.

Naturally, it just so happened that your friend was the Chief Justice, and your little prank happened to be pouring out an entire salt shaker into his water as he took a small trip to the restroom. But in your defense, Neuvillette had ordered the last La Lettre a Focalors on the menu and wouldn’t even share a bite with you.

You huffed at the memory. Salty water was too kind of a punishment, looking back at it.

Still, you didn’t expect such a petty thing would have you branded as a criminal. If you had known, you would’ve added the contents of the nearby pepper shaker into Neuvillette’s water as well. That way, this sentence would have at least felt more justified.

After your paperwork was processed, Madeline told you to enter the lift and wait for someone to give you a tour. This would be your new home for a whole…seven days. You hoped you could survive it.

You tapped your foot as you waiting for your tour guide, eyes scanning across the dark, metallic room. Despite the dim lighting, the Fortress sounded more lively than you would have expected.

Just as you were starting to grow impatient, you spotted a familiar figure walking your way.

Wriothesley, you recognized. You had a brief run-in with him only one before in your life— When you were hanging out in Neuvillette’s office waiting for him to finish the last of his work, when Wriothesley decided to pay the Iudex a surprise visit. Judging from the amused expression on his face, it would seem he remembered you too.

Now, whether it was a good or bad memory, you couldn’t exactly say. Though, for the sake of your time here, you sure hoped it was the former.

“Prisoner 8072,” he greeted with a chuckle.

You waved sheepishly. “That’s me, reporting for duty, sir.”

“At ease, solider.”

You rolled your eyes, secretly please he went along with your antics.

He beckoned you to follow him as he began to show you around the fortress. “Now, before we start the tour, would you like to tell me how you landed here?”

With an innocent look on your face, you shrugged.

Wriothesley raised his brow expectantly. “My sources tell me it was an attempted poison of the Iudex.”

Your jaw dropped. “Is that what Neuvillette is telling people?!”

“Just me,” he admitted.

You almost laughed in disbelief. “Well, it’s a little too late to defend myself now—not that I had a fair trial in the first place, mind you—but I at least have to say that poison the Chief Justice speaks of is measly table salt!” With a huff, you folded your arms across your chest. “Powerful Dragon of Water my ass… If he thinks table salt can poison him…”

Wriothesley chuckled at your pouting, patting your shoulder as a sign of sympathy. “For a week-long sentence, I would have expected that you put pepper in there as well.”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking!”

He nodded in agreement, humoring you as he showed you to the cafeteria, offering you a free meal that you graciously accepted.

“While a week-long sentence may be unjust for your the level of your…misdemeanor, I do still hope you can enjoy your stay here,” he said as the two of you finished up your food.

You considered your thoughts before stating, “I might. If you keep treating me to these free meals.”

Wriothesley laughed, the noise coming deep from his chest, and you grinned in return.

“Oh, what would the other prisoners think if they saw their duke playing favorites?” he said in mock despair.

“So you admit I’m already your favorite?”

“Do you find pleasure in putting words in my mouth?”

“Amongst other things.”

His eyes widened and you flushed as you realized the implication of what you had said.

“Salty water,” you clarified as you cleared your throat. “That is all I was referring to.”

He nodded solemnly, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. “Of course. Words and salty water.”

“Exactly.”

“Noted.” After a brief pause, Wriothesley quickly changed the subject. “Before I lead you to your dormitory, let me show you my office.”

You followed along dutifully, making sure your mouth was glued shut until the embarrassment wore off. When the door closed, he beckoned for you to have a seat on the chair in front of his desk.

“To earn your keep here, we use a currency called Credit Coupons,” he explained. “Now, typically, the most steady and secure way for an inmate to earn these is by working in the production line–heating an shaping metals. A physically demanding job even for the strongest of individuals.”

You almost broke out into a sweat at the thought. Neuvillette would definitely be getting an earful from you once you were free from this injustice.

Wriothesley laughed at the horrified look on your face.

“But luckily for you,” he said, “by special order from the Iudex himself, it was request you do administrative work in the office with me instead.”

“Oh, my gods,” you sighed in relief. Neuvillette was safe for now.

“Don’t get too excited yet,” he warned with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Are you sure it’s better to be trapped in here with me for seven days than to brave the production line?”

You quirked your head to the side. “You seem friendly enough.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He stood up from his chair, pushing it in and waiting for you to follow suit. “Though brief, I look forward to working with you.”

“You as well.”

He nodded. “Now, it is getting late. Allow me to me conclude this tour by showing you the dormitories.”

The thought of seeing your new bed for the week excited you. You were tired from walking around so much and you couldn’t wait to shower and collapse on a mattress—no matter how thin it may be.

Wriothesley dropped you off at the door of your room, watching as you examined the place. You blinked slowly.

He laughed. “Not to your liking?”

“I’ve seen hotel rooms that look worse,” you said while shaking your head. “I can manage!”

“If it is too uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. Perhaps I can provide you with some special accommodations.”

You hid a smile. “Such favoritism already. Is this what being friends with the Chief Justice does for you here?”

“Connections don’t quell you any favor in this part of Fontaine,” he said. “This treatment is based on your own merit.” He paused. “And the fact that the Iudex specified that he didn’t intend for this to be a genuine prison sentence.”

You almost snorted at the revelation, the pieces clicking together. “Is this his prank in retaliation for me adding salt to his water?!” you groaned, only upset because you didn’t think of this first. “What an abuse of power.”

Wriothesley chuckled. “Such is the life.”

As he got ready to leave you to your bed quarters for the night, he paused at the exit. You looked at him expectantly.

“Did you need something?”

He shook his head. “No, not at the moment. I only wanted to say, I look forward to your assistance around the office tomorrow.”

You smiled in agreement. Who wouldn’t want a break from real life and escape to a prison ruled by a surprisingly benevolent duke?

“Also—“ you looked up to see his sideways grin “—tomorrow’s breakfast is on me.”

With a chuckle, you found yourself agreeing to his offer. “I’ll look forward to the morning then.”

“Have a good night in your temporary home.”

As Wriothesley left the dormitory, you couldn’t shake the smile from your face. If you were going to be here for a week, you might as well make the most of it. At least with the Duke, your time wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe even after your sentence, you would still come and visit him.

You closed your eyes as your head landed on your pillow. It was harder than you expected. Quite uncomfortable, actually. You made a face.

Perhaps Wriothesley could come up and visit you when this was over instead.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley genshin #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #wriothesely x reader

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valwrote · 11 months ago

Text

MELUSINES ON THE MISSION

pairing: neuvilette x reader

synopsis: he takes you to Merusea Village for his birthday as a friend, leaves the village with you as his significant other. All thanks to some wingwomen- no melusines.

contains : reader is a baker by profession, fluff, wingwomen melusines, whipped, lovesick neuvilette, mutual pining, corny, neuvillette can deal with anything expect romantic feelings and gestures, spoilers for 4.2 story quest, references to his birthday letter.

a/n : happy birthday to best boi neuvi. he is deffo a lovesick dude and you can't change my mind.

sequel of this fic , but can be read as a stand alone.

Neuvillette stared at the calender, eyebrows knitted together, pen twirling in his slender fingers.

"Should it be in spring? No that would be inconvenient...same holds true for autumn." He grumbled.

"My Dear Ludex, What's got you so tensed?" Furina chimed in, taking a glance at calender.

"I am trying to settle on a day to serve the purpose of being my birthday." Neuvillette sighed. If only he remembered the actual date. Furina took the pen from his hand and randomly circled a date without sparing a glance.

"18th of December? Why so?"

"My dear Ludex, this is such a trivial matter! Don't waste your energy on this. We must save it for the thrills of the court!" She patted his shoulder and walked off.

18th Decemeber.

That was today.

Neuvillette recalled while signing some documents he had received this morning. He finished up his work and turned around to arrange all the files and declutter the cabinets.

When he glanced back, he saw a small gift on the edge of this table. A smile crept up onto his face as he peeked a bit further to see the head of a melusine sticking out.

"You can stop hiding." He mused as the melusine slowly revealed themselves. Slowly but surely more melusines emerged out of their hiding spots.

"Happy Birthday Monsieur Neuvillette!" They all cheered as Neuvillette had a hearty laugh. The strict and straightforward Chief Justice had a soft spot for the adorable creatures and went to lengths to assure their safety.

"Thank you all. I appreciate your kind gesture." He smiled and picked up the small gift delicately and unwrapped the present. His ears could pick up the melusines muttered amongst themselves.

"...ask him."

"No you ask him!"

"Ask me what?" Neuvillette looked up to see the pleading faces of the Melusines. Yup, they were most definitely trying to persuade him into agreeing to something and Neuvillette knew he couldn't refuse.

"Will you come to Merusea Village this time?" They asked but it sounded more of a demand than a question.

Neuvillette paused. Of course they would ask that. He hadn't visited last year due to the chaos in Fontaine and the death of Focalors. He couldn't bring himself to celebrate his birthday after her death. This time, he agreed on it.

"Sure. I will make sure to extricate myself of my duties and come to Merusea Village." He reassured the Melusines, who bounced up and down in excitement before scurrying out of his office.

Neuvillette sat down and began making preparations so that he could depart worry-free to Merusea Village without any problems arising.

He found his thoughts drifting towards you. A promise he had made you a month ago.

"My schedule is full for the following month. However, I will be sure to pay you a visit after that." He recalled his words to you. Neuvillette had now made up his mind. He was going to take you with him to Merusea Village for his birthday and let all the melusines meet you.

He couldn't help but long for that queasy feeling with stirred in his chest everytime he was in your proximity. He would feel jittery and his palms would feel clammy and sweaty everytime he saw your beaming smile and witty remarks that never ceased to amaze him.

Well that was easier said than done.

"Would like to accompany me to Merusea Village?" He said before facepalming. "No that would be too straightforward...I might sound authoritative and I don't wish to given off that impression..." Neuvillette had been pacing back and forth in front of the bakery and had been rehearsing the past 15 minutes.

He remained apathetic towards the people who would gasp and mutter at the sight of the Chief Justice's unannounced appearance. "Hello, it is my birthday today and I would like you to accompany me to Merusea Village." Neuvillette said before groaning in annoyance.

"No..if I were to straight away declare that it is my birthday then, it would sound self-centered of me." He muttered, his hand on his chin. "Ah, Yes. Greetings, it has been a long time since we last met. According to our public pronouncements, it is my birthday today and since I take out time each year to visit Merusea Village, I would love for you to accompany m–

"It's your birthday?" You gasped, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. You could see him tense up before turning around and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh erm- yes." He fake coughed to compose himself again. "You should've told me, Monsieur! I would've prepared you a special cake!" You suggested. It would've made up for a good and genuine gift.

"No need for it. I was wondering if you would accompany me–"

"To some place you visit every year on your birthday? Sure! I was just finishing closing up the shop for the weekend, so yes I can accompany you!" You chimed at him. Spending time with Neuvillette, that too on his birthday!? Now that was opportunity you weren't letting go.

You weren't going to admit that you had taken interest in him and wanted to get opportunities to get to know him better but since he was a busy man, this was a perfect opportunity!

"Then let's leave, shall we?" He offered his gloved hand to you. You reached out to take it but he retracted his hand back and instead gestured in the direction you had to walk towards.

You could see his ears turn pink as he started to walk away. You were about to hold his hand? Then why did he back away?? Right someone as high and mighty as the Chief Justice won't settle for a ordinary baker–

You shook your thoughts away and followed him.

"Monseiur Neuvillette is here!" The Melusines erupted into cheers and circled around him. You could see him smile and pat their heads. Neuvillette's smile had swept your heart off its feet. Your heart swoll at the sight of him smiling, heartily laughing at the swarm of Melusines. Dare you say, you were trying to stop your face from turning red.

"Everyone, meet [Name]. They are my friend and I presumed you would all love to meet them." He gestured towards you as the little melusine heads turned towards you, judgingly.

"Um- hello." You awkwardly smiled. The Melusines seemed to have marked you off their suspicion list considering they had now dragged you away to indulge in their silly activities.

Chasing other melusines, laughing with them, sitting around the bonfire, making flower crowns, it seems like you had a whole new world. You took the crown to Neuvillette. "Monseiur Neuvillette! Look!" You ran up to him as he turned towards you, with a smile lingering on his face.

"Is that a flower crown?" He mused, inspecting the bundle of flowers. You nodded and reached up to put it on his head. However, as you were putting it on his head, you both found yourselves gazing at eachother, fondly.

His eyes said so much despite his face showing so little. You two were unaware of the conversation between the melusines in the background.

"Oui oui! Monsieur Neuvillette definitely likes her!"

"Oui! You are so right, he looks at her in a certain way!"

"Should we help him?"

"Yes!" They all agreed.

"Monseiur Neuvillette! [Name]!" All of them yelled. You and Neuvillette snap out of it and turn your faces away, both of your cheeks flushing a shade of red.

"You guys should stay for a bit longer!" The Melusines tugged on your clothes and his robe. Eyes widen like puppies. Now how could you refuse to those cute faces.

"Sure! I would love too. It is the weekend anyways." You nodded and Neuvillette also agreed.

Now the plan was in full swing.

Neuvillette went inside the accommodation the melusines had prepared. He walked over to the desk and spotted a neatly kept letter.

Dear Neuvillette,

I wish to tell you that you are really pretty and I find you interesting. I can't seem to find the courage to express it though.

Sincerely,

[Name]

His face flushed red as he did a double take, flipping the letter to assess its legitimacy. The Melusines peeped through the small window, seeing his reaction.

"He is blushing!" One whispered.

"Huh? I never thought those cheesy and corny sentences would actually make him all flushed." Another marveled

"I tried my best okay? It's hard to act like that girl considering we just met her." The third nudged the other.

"You think sending them fake letters is going to work?" The fourth asked.

"Duh!" The first 3 yelled at him.

You, on the hand, were reading the letter given to you over and over again.

Dear [Name],

You seem to have captured my thoughts. I find myself thinking about you every passing moment. However, I don't mind this feeling.

Sincerely,

Neuvillette.

You giggled like a high-schooler with a big fat crush on a ficitional guy. Who knew the Chief Justice was so lovey-dovey! How endearing.

"The plan worked!" The first melusine beamed.

"Both of them hopeless." 2nd one sighed.

"Hopelessly in love!" 3rd one snickered.

"Let's wait and watch." The 4th reminded.

The next day, you both were busy with groups of Melusines, chatting and playing yet both of you kept catching glances at eachother and looked away in embarrassment.

The Melusines rejoiced in their plan of fake letters to both of you, working. This kept on going. Both of you would find a letter in your room each time you came to freshen up or rest.

You and Neuvillette found yourselves blushing and feeling clammy at the letters, unaware of the true sender of these letters, until...

Meet me by the lake, 9pm.

As planned, both of you reached the lake, looking around to find the other. When you caught sight of Neuvillette, your breath was taken away. His white hair framed his fair perfectly and his eyes shined in the moonlight.

"Hello.." you started.

"Hello to you too." He replied. Well this is awkward.

"So um..do you truly believe I am- uh pretty as you mentioned in the letter?" Neuvillette asked, refusing to make eye contact. How fascinating that a man of status and authority is reduced to a flustered mush infront of the person he wishes to be with.

"Huh- what letter? I don't remember sending you a letter." You tilted your head in confusion. You received letters but you never wrote any reply back.

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Then who sent- oh. The melusines.." he sighed, pinching his nose. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience." He apologized.

"Oh.." you sounded disappointed. So it was a lie then? Neuvillette said any of those sweet words which you had read in the letters. You could feel your heart break and chest ache. How did you manage to fall into this rabbit hole of loving the Ludex of Fontaine only to have your hopes crushed.

"What did they write in the letters given to you?" He calmly asked after a brief moment of silence.

"They said that you kept thinking about me and how you liked me and didn't mind the feeling...it is fine though! I am glad it is a lie hahaha." You waved your hands dismissively.

"..it is true." He blurted out. In his mind, it was now or never.

"Huh?" You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"It is true. I am indeed infatuated with you." You could visibly see his face flush pink. After your brain computed the information, you also turned red.

"I- I feel the same-..I always thought that I was too plain and simple for your liking.." you awkwardly muttered.

"No. It may be inappropriate of me to say this but..I believe that you are just perfect. You are perfect the very way you are, [Name]." The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue, though his flustered face told another story.

You hugged him without a warning, nuzzling your face into his chest. The hug felt warm, like the ocean hugging you with their waves as the sun dawned its warmth on your skin. Neuvillette wrapped his arms around you. You could hear his heart thundering against his chest.

"You like me that much huh?" You wriggled your eyebrows, with a teasing grin.

"Let's not bring that matter up." He huffed, trying to maintain his calm and composed composure. Oh he definitely was feeling giddy but why admit it?

"We will miss you!" The Melusines whined and fake cried, clinging to your legs as Neuvillette chuckled.

"Well, let's leave, shall we? It is a long walk back." He asked you, a soft smile on his face, his smile lines crinkling. Oh Archons! If only you had a Kamera on you.

"Mhm!" You nodded. He, again offered you his gloved hand, which you took into yours as you both started your journey back.

This time he didn't back away. Instead, he took your hand firmly in his and walked away, together, with you by his side.

a/n : happy birthday dear Neuvillette. Gosh i love this man so much, it's unhealthy. I can listen to him talk for hours about different tastes of water.

not proof read.

don't copy, plagiarize, repost.

©definitelysel

#genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fontaine #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #neuvillete x reader

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solkara · 5 months ago

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❛ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 , alicent hightower and rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , as the eldest and only heir to viserys targaryen naturally you were born with more responsibilities than you could count your sister being one of them

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , alicent hightower x male! targaryen! reader x rhaenyra targaryen

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , omg so I didn't know if this anon wanted the request to be fem! reader or male! but I made it male cuz well...I can? also this part is sorta just the set up for part 2 so sorry if it's a bit boring

house of the dragon masterlist , next part

⌗ you were the first born son of viserys targaryen and aemma arryn. so naturally you were expected to be the perfect heir to the iron throne. as was expected of you. and you performed that duty to perfection. as a protege in art of the sword an avid seeker of knowledge and an understudy to your father the king. and not to metion well mannered and respectful man in the making. it was no wonder you sister looked up to you so much.

⌗ since the day rhaenyra was born she was drawn to you. perfering to be in your presence more than any other. the only once who could even come close to rivaling the love your sister had for you was your mother. she followed you everywhere like a duckling trailing it's mother.

⌗ your younger sister wanted to do everything with you. from watching you train to going on dragon rides together. and would throw fits when you would try to venture off on your own. which most people chalked down to her naturally childish nature. but if they delved deeper than the surface they would see it for what it really was. possessiveness.

⌗ though you didn't mind. as you did truly love your sister. and she had soon made a friend with the lord hands daughter. the lady alicent hightower. and it seemed her possessiveness had faded. as she spent more and more time with the Hightower girl and less with you. or so you thought.

⌗ as you grew older you were exposed to more and more of the world. no longer were you seen as a child but as a man grown. and with your day's being filled with the teachings of being of how to be a man and one day a king. your uncle prince daemon took it upon himself to teach you the art of bodily pleasure. by taking you to a whore house.

⌗ he paying for the finest whores and wine. claiming his favorite nephew deserved nothing but the best. as the two of you spent hours within the belly of the brothel until you were both spent of seed and drunk. but while the two of them enjoyed a night of endulace. they were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing within the castle. and that storms name was rhaenyra.

⌗ see when had rhaenyra caught word that prince daemon had taken her beloved older brother to a brothel she was incensed. how dare her uncle take her dear older brother into such a filthy place. and allow all of those vile whores to touch what would eventually be her's.

⌗ if you had wanted to learn about pleasure why didn't you come to her? as she had ingrained into her head that you would one day marry in the tradition of old valyria. so when you returned disheveled and hung over. she confronted you. screaming at you with tears streaming down her face. to be honest you didn't understand a word the was coming out of her mouth. as you lay splayed on you bed. but then out of no where she kissed you.

⌗ it was rough and passionate. and for some reason you kissed back. as rhaenyra straddled the two of you proceeded to kiss for what felt like hours. nothing more. you wouldn't allow it to get that far. and while it angered your sister that you couldn't go any further than kissing. she settled for kisses. for now. and so began the secret kisses.

⌗ it became like a game to the two of you. to see how many times the two of you could kiss in a day without being caught. though it was mostly rhaenyra who initiated it. you went along with it to keep her from throwing a tantrum. and at one point you were convinced the two of you had locked lips in every corner of the castle.

⌗ and everything was good. until it wasn't. your mother was dead. and here you stood staring at the funeral pyre of your mother and brother. with bloodshot eyes and a heart heavy with grief. you stood with your uncle and sister. as the two provided you comfort. but you refused to accept it. not daemon's comforting words nor rhaenyra's attempt to hold your hand. your mother was dead and nothing would make you feel better.

⌗ looking to your dragon ivax. a beautiful creature with scales as white as snow and eyes as red as blood. the dragon you raised from a hatchling who had now become the largest dragon in the seven kingdoms's. even larger than vaghar. he was your other half. and there he stood waiting for the command. and with a heavy heart you said it "dracarys".

⌗ and you stood there for what felt like forever. watching the burning pile that used to be your mother. the guests had long left and you were all the remains. or so you thought. as you felt someone stand next to you. you thought it was rhaenyra. but when you turned your head. you were surprised to be greeted with the sight of alicent hightower.

⌗ no words were spoken between the two of you. but there was an air of understanding. and as the pair stood in silence. both of their chests couldn't help but bloom with unfamiliar feelings. but little did they know they were being watched by a pair of jealous purple eyes.

@harjasblog , Hi I got a request for rhaenyra and reader. So basically like rhaenyra and the reader used to be dating and for some reasons reader gets married to Alicent and they have their children. Rhaenyra finds out about this and becomes jealous . So she makes a plan to get the reader back, so she attempts to seduces the reader but the reader stays loyal and tells Alicent everything. The. Alicent and Rhaenyra have big problems and then the eye for an eye thing happens and the reader tell rhaenyra that they hate her and rhaenyra goes mad and delusion. So she attempts to take the throne to get the reader back and that what causes the divide of the house.

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yoonmetogether · 13 days ago

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Part 1 - Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit. warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude), character death minors pls dni wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l part i. play nice I interlude: strangers l part ii. I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood.

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got married has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist husband who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your husband didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, done taekwondo and thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off.

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, grabbing his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t try some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Honey, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I didn’t want to talk about any outside stuff. I just wanted to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a cabin where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a ferry to Jeju to visit the beach where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, Angel. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto the shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your hand a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.”

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.”

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Honey,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens.

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, honey. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that sinks in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, vaguely familiar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, cutting you deep because you thought you were more important to him than that. Even though it broke your heart, you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a huff at how fake you look.

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, feeling two hands hover on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men.

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his left shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a tall, lithe man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to roughly grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting to see him next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was practically etched into your soul, like it was meant to be there forever.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal gash that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A pit settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you.

Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table. But you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You look at him with a puzzled expression.

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he’s wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care, however, so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly.

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, even though you have many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check if you have any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. An indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

Now… Now you get his number?? This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized.

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Oh. So he wants to play games. And he’s a fucking coward.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a hoodie and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Jay saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that your fiancé is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head. Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs. You think to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings, and for a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping more on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.”

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before that? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat the other morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him, D calls for you, but you pay no attention and pop open the door, hesitating when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case and the door doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start. He leans over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really anymore as you’ve come to hate the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off. And you’re very much on edge lately.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “And besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of bay water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows, the rapid blinking of his eyes, but there’s none of that now. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to us. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your shirt. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes fly open and feet move on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take it. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes Jungkook with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?”

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. You recognize him. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life maid?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it.

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. Does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your heart pounds in your ears when Lee slides his beady eyes to you, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brothers but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now. The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot another cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the lighters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you unravel the plastic. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The wrapper you crumple and the lighter you flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing of the metal and plastic on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly gruffs out, “Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Are you threatening me?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as one of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You’re positive if you weren’t present, this night would’ve ended in bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, kiddo,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, the confidence it gave you. And that scares you.

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened.

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you run out of tears, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads don’t entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

masterlist

taglist:

@viankiss @taegijns @polarnightmyg @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 10 months ago

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Auntie Row

Rowena & Winchester little sister!reader, team free will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Rowena has a soft spot for the Winchester’s little sister, and they get into lots of trouble together (I suck at synopsis, just read the fic it’s better)

Warnings: honestly nothing, time frame makes no sense with reader’s age but 🤷‍♀️

“Rowena, what do you think you’re doing?”

The witch looked up in surprise when the Winchester brothers entered.

“Sammy!” You, the brothers’ six-year-old sister, ran straight to your big brother and giggled when he lifted you into his arms.

“Oh, you’re back,” Rowena said, cringing. “That was quick.”

“Auntie Row is teaching me how to do magic, like Hermione!” You babbled excitedly.

“Rowena…” Dean growled in warning.

“Now now, she’s a growing girl!” Rowena defended herself. “Learning magic is a perfectly natural part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam scoffed.

“But Sammy!” You whined.

“Nu-uh,” Sam shook his head. “C’mon, it’s about time you had a nap.” He carried you out without another word to Rowena, who huffed dramatically and started to gather her belongings.

“When we said you could watch Y/N—“ Dean began, but Rowena cut him off.

“I know you didn’t mean this, but honestly Dean Winchester, how d’you expect the girl to defend herself if she can’t use magic?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “We’ll protect her.”

“Oh honestly, you can’t be around her all the time! If she had magic, she could—“

“For the last time Rowena; no.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Uh, guys.” Sam returned to the room with a slight frown on his face. “Y/N said she wants Rowena to continue her story from last night. She’s refusing to sleep without it.”

“Well,” Rowena smirked. “Duty calls.”

“Hey.” Dean caught Rowena by the arm, and she glared at him. “Magic always comes with a price. I don’t want her to have to pay it.”

Rowena softened.

“I understand, Dean Winchester.”

His grip slackened, and Rowena left to go to you.

…

“I have a little something for you,” Rowena said as she stepped into your room.

“Can we finish the story?” You asked.

“Of course, sweet girl, of course. But first, I want to show you something. You remember that cursed necklace from the story? The one that protected the witch from the angry mob?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded excitedly.

“Well, I think it’s time it protected someone else.” Rowena grinned, unclasping the necklace that was hidden behind her shirt and carefully putting it on you.

“Really?” Your eyes went wide as you stared up at the witch.

“Yes. That will protect you from anyone who wants to harm you. That way you don’t have to use any magic, just like your brothers said.”

“Thank you, Auntie Row,” you breathed sincerely, reverence painting your tone as you admired the glowing red jewel.

Rowena leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You’re very welcome, sweet thing. Now, let’s finish that story, shall we?”

…

“Kiddo, please, it’s just for a few days,” Sam tried to soothe you, but you still wouldn’t let go of his leg and continued to cry. “Mary’s gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

“I could really help you guys on this one,” Mary argued.

“She needs someone to watch her,” Dean reasoned.

“And why am I the automatic choice?” Mary countered.

“You two are not helping,” Sam said through gritted teeth as he picked you up, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. He hated Mary’s distance from you; you were John’s, but not hers. He understood her reason for not getting close to you, but you were just a little kid, and you didn’t deserve that. Sam just rubbed your back, still trying to soothe you as you continued to sniffle.

“If you boys needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

The three adults turned in surprise at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

“I mean honestly, it’s not like I haven’t babysat before.”

Dean was hesitant. “I don’t know if—“

“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, going to grab her duffel. She tossed over her shoulder, “now I can help on the hunt!”

“Am I gonna stay with Auntie Row?” You asked Sam, your eyes wide and pleading.

“I…yeah honey, you are,” Sam sighed.

“Yay!” You grinned, wiping your tears away and squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Ok, ok,” Sam chuckled, lowering you to the ground so you could run to Rowena for a hug. “It’s probably best that you guys don’t stay in the bunker.” Sam directed his next words at the witch holding his little sister. “The bunker’s system still goes a little wonky with a witch inside, so one of your safe houses is probably a better idea.”

“That works for me.” Rowena grinned. “How would you like to go to Paris, sweet thing?” She asked you.

“This is a horrible idea,” Dean sighed. But he still grabbed his bag and headed out to Baby anyway.

…

“We’re back!” Sam called as he stepped into the bunker.

“Sammy! De!” You squealed, running to your big brothers and reaching them just as they came down the stairs. Dean scooped you into his arms and held you tight, comforted to see such a happy sight after such a grueling hunt.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, noticing your outfit.

“Auntie Row took me to shops in Paris, and we got a lot of clothes!” You babbled excitedly as Dean let Sam pull you into his arms.

“You’re spoiling her, Rowena,” Dean chuckled, no longer quite so hesitant about the witch now that he saw how happy you were.

“And she deserves every bit of it,” Rowena said.

…

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry darling, but you must sit still!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sam asked curiously as he stepped into your room to see you and Rowena sitting in front of your vanity.

“I’m trying to do her hair, but she won’t stop squirming,” Rowena explained, running a little pink brush through your hair.

“It’s all knotty!” You whined.

“Well it won’t be in a minute,” Rowena said.

Sam just smiled as he watched you, finally getting experiences that you’d never had before; motherly experiences.

The more he watched, though, the more he noticed how much you were squirming, and how much you seemed to be whining.

“Hey, you seem kinda grumpy, kid. Did you get a nap today?” He asked, coming to stand beside you and Rowena.

“Yeah,” you sniffled.

“You’re kinda pale,” he muttered under his breath, getting on one knee and reaching the back of his hand out to touch your forehead. “Jeez kid, you’re burning up.”

“She’s ill?” Rowena put the brush down and turned your chair around so you were facing her, repeating Sam’s gesture and checking your temperature. “She is quite hot.”

“Hey, let’s get you into some pjs, ok?” Sam suggested, lifting you into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

“I already had a nap!” You insisted, squirming in Sam’s arms.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case,” Dean said, stepping into your room. “Something wrong?”

“She’s got a fever,” Sam sighed. “You should go without me.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rowena spoke up. “Just leave her with me.”

“I don’t want to leave her when she’s sick,” Sam argued.

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll give her some herbs and she’ll be out like a light, she’ll sleep until you get back.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sighed.

“How about this,” Rowena said. “You put her to bed, and leave once she’s asleep. I’ll watch over her, and I’ll call you if she worsens.”

“Alright.” Sam looked at you. “Is that ok kiddo?”

You nodded sleepily, suddenly not so eager to fight another nap.

“Sammy, my tummy hurts,” you whimpered.

Sam nearly melted at this, more reluctant than ever to leave you.

“I know sweetheart, c’mon let’s get you into some pjs and then you can go to sleep, ok?”

Sam helped you get dressed while Dean packed for the hunt. It didn’t take long to have you tucked into bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sam lingered in your doorway, unsure about leaving you like this.

“She’ll be fine,” Rowena soothed the Winchester brother. “She’s asleep, and I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag that Dean had packed him. “Just…take care of her, ok?”

“Always,” Rowena responded.

And she did. When the Winchester brothers returned, your fever had broken and you were resting on the couch with Rowena, some cartoon playing on the tv.

��Hello boys,” she greeted when she saw them.

“Hey kid.” Sam went straight to you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Are you feeling any better?”

Rowena went to speak to Dean while you answered Sam with a distracted “yeah,” continuing to watch your cartoon.

“Her fever broke,” she explained to him. “I think it’s best if she rests a bit more, though.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Dean said sincerely. “She really seems to like you.”

Rowena smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

…

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked you.

You nodded, finally pulling your gaze from the cartoon.

“Yeah, I like Auntie Row!”

Sam smiled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months ago

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The Villain's Protector (Part 1) - Don't Blame Me

Summary: The reader wants out from working for the CIA so they propose a deal. She acts as the captured Soldier Boy's caretaker and she's free to go in six months. Their idea of stealing Soldier Boy's supe altering powers aren't exactly for what the reader thinks though and she needs Solider Boy to escape for her own plans. But those plans go awry when the CIA unleashes a dangerous life-changing weapon and the only way for her and Soldier Boy to survive is to stick together...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, violence, torture, bombing,

A/N: This series takes place post Season 3. Please enjoy this first part and let me know what you think!

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“Y/L/N.” You lifted an eyebrow, finding an unfamiliar older woman at the entrance to your office. Your supervisor nodded beside her and you pulled your headphones off, letting them rest around your neck. “You’re off desk duty.”

“The chatter from these guys-”

“Yeah, I know. Somebody else will handle it. As of five minutes ago, you report to her now,” said your supervisor, rattling a knuckle on the door. You were ready to argue about how you were promised desk duty to finish out these last six months but she was gone before you could blink. You grumbled as the older woman stepped inside, closing the heavy door behind her.

“I heard you want out,” she said. You leaned back in your chair, cocking your head. “Nobody ever really leaves the CIA you know.”

“What’s my handle ID?” you asked, the woman raising her chin. “I ain’t telling you jack shit until I know you’re legit.”

“Black Midnight Angel. You want to get to work now? Or you going to waste more of my time?” You narrowed your eyes, the woman giving it right back. “Work this job for six months until you leave and the agency will pay for your schooling. And I know you’re skeptical so we already wired the funds to your bank account.”

“Black ops?” you asked quietly. She shook her head, taking a seat in the chair across your desk.

“Mallory Fischer,” she said, your lips pressing into a thin line. “You know what I do then.”

“Yes, I do. Question is why do you want me on your team? There are far more qualified people.” She looked you up and down, a small smirk crossing her lips.

“You’re right. Your agent assessment scores are average aside from your intel work. Last time you were in the field you were shot-”

“Why. Me.” You knew it was coming. You knew exactly what was coming.

“You have a year of medical school under your belt.” That…was not what you were expecting. Did she not…know? Maybe not. Fine. You weren’t bringing that up if you could help it.

“I do. You should know that the reason I couldn’t finish was because the CIA recruited me, despite my desire to not join,” you said, letting it hang in the air. Mallory rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. “You people fucked up my life plan you know. I’m thirty two. I’m going to be a good 5 years minimum behind my peers by the time I graduate.”

“Did I give you the impression that I give a shit?” You grumbled but kept your mouth shut. “You agreed to work here.”

“You threatened to deport my friend if I didn’t,” you growled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had an ex-boyfriend with ties to-”

“Just stop. What the fuck do you want with me?”

“I have Soldier Boy.” You laughed, Mallory dead eyed. “I’m quite serious.”

“He fucking blew up last week.” Mallory cocked her head. You sighed, running a hand over your mouth. “He fell from, what, the seventieth floor? He’s really that strong?”

“He’s damn near indestructible. If it makes you feel better, Maeve survived too. But seeing as how she hates Vought more than most, we let her slide. Pretty sure she and her girlfriend went up to-”

“So she’s free and you don’t give a fuck about what she does. Fine. But what the fuck does ‘I have Soldier Boy’ mean exactly?” you asked. Mallory eyed you up and down.

“He’s Homelanders father.” You rolled your eyes and she frowned. “Why exactly is that not surprising to you?”

“Come on,” you laughed. “The most powerful supe to exist suddenly disappears right around the time Homelander was born? They’re both the poster child for all american wonder boy. I figured he was the dad doing a book report in middle school. It’s not that complicated.”

“Then you can understand why having Homelander’s father provides us an opportunity. His power is the only weapon we have that comes close to taking Homelander out. You watch the news. Homelander is losing his shit. We need to find a way to deal-”

“You don’t need Soldier Boy’s powers to fucking catch Homelander. If you caught pops, you can catch the kid and for the record, I am not one of your fucking super agents so you want me for research, fine. But save the shooting and catching Homelander for your own people.” You scooted your chair in closer to your computer, Mallory grabbing your hand roughly when you placed it on your mouse.

“Soldier Boy didn’t have the power to knock out other supes powers until after the Russian’s tortured him. We need to understand that ability of his and what made it change.” You sighed, pulling your hand away. “Work the job and in six months you’re gone.”

“And what exactly does this job entail?”

“We need a doctor, or the next best thing, for the night shift. Twelve hour shifts. You feed him, clean him, tend to him. Most of the time he’s going to be out cold. It’s maybe an hour of real work a night. You can do whatever the fuck you want in your office when you’re taking care of him, I really don’t care. We just need him in working order, got it?”

You pushed away from your computer, lifting your chin. “And that hour where he’s not out cold? How the fuck do I go near him without dying?”

“You better not be claustrophobic.”

Two Days Later

Mallory had ditched you not five minutes after seven pm after showing you to an office in the very plain looking warehouse in upstate New York. She’d naturally failed to mention that Soldier Boy was being held at a facility outside of the city. But you weren’t about to complain, not when the commute was shorter than your original one. So there you stood, a frozen TV dinner in your backpack, a guard dressed head to toe in black combat gear with an assault rifle almost as big as you, still wondering what the hell you were meant to do.

“You guys got a break room?” you sighed, dumping the bag on the desk and pulling out your dinner.

“Two doors down on the left. Unisex bathroom is around the corner,” he said, still not revealing his face from behind his dark mask. That was fine. He was an overqualified security guard in your mind. “Mallory left a schedule and map of the building on your desk. Burn them when you’ve memorized it.”

“Yup,” you said, walking past him and heading down the hall. “So how many guards are there right now?”

“The only staff on the night shift is yourself, a dozen interior guards, and four patrolling external officers.”

“No custodial staff?” you asked, entering the bare bones room with a microwave, old fridge and a wobbly table. Wonderful.

“No. They clean during the day. The facility isn’t large enough to warrant external help.” You hummed, popping the tray out of the box and into the microwave. “Do you have any further questions?”

“Is the Novichok gas always on in the room he’s held in?” you asked. He shook his head.

“He’s kept in a cryo tube during the night. Before entering the room, we will fill the room with gas for five minutes that will allow him to waken slightly but remain harmless. You will then enter in your hazmat suit and remove him from the chamber where you will perform your duties. When you indicate you are finished, we will increase the gas until he passes out and you can place him back in the tube. When you leave the room, we will stop the gas.”

“Does he eat during the day? What about the bathroom?” He was still and you frowned. “Dude. I get that everything is need to know but I need to know basic shit about my patient.”

“You feed him according to the schedule. He has a catheter.”

“And going number two?”

“He doesn’t get solids.”

“I don’t care what kind of liquid diet he’s on, he’s still going to shit.”

“I have my job, you have yours.”

You grumbled when he left, hitting the power on for your dinner. Just what you wanted for a career. Wipe the ass of the world’s most powerful supe.

You tried to forget about that portion of your “duties” as you ate your meal. It was still going to be easier than your first rotation in med school, that was for sure. He’d just…lay there drugged out of his mind. With the small threat in the air of if your hazmat suit tore for any reason, like say an angry supe being held prisoner grabbed it and ripped the plastic which he very likely was capable of even in that state.

Easy peasy.

You were able to distract yourself for an hour by walking the halls to figure out the layout of the building. The guard had been right. It wasn’t a large building. There were a few offices and typical building facilities in the front of the building. Security was stationed in the middle and Soldier Boy’s holding cell along with a viewing room was in the back corner. What appeared to be an operating room was further down the hall but that wasn’t entirely uncalled for in a black ops prison like this. You couldn’t exactly take your wounded agents or prisoners to a normal hospital.

You ended your self-guided tour in the viewing room staring down at the dark room below. Save for the soft blue light emitting from the cryo tube. You couldn’t see much at the angle. The top of the tube was see through but all you spotted were a pair of bare feet.

“He’s not strapped down?” you asked as the door to your right opened, a guard stepping through, this one slightly shorter than the one you’d spoken to originally.

“No. You’ll need to move him around. He’s wearing a face mask providing a direct stream of Novichok gas to him. You only need to remove it when you shove a tube down his throat for feeding. I’d suggest saving that for last.”

You quirked an eyebrow up. He was a supe, sure. This was a CIA secret holding prison, sure. The treatment of prisoners didn’t exactly have to adhere to the Geneva Convention in this kind of environment.

But it felt gross treating him like a meat puppet, keeping him alive only to figure out his powers. Which made you consider something else.

“Why go through the trouble of keeping him alive? Wouldn’t it be easier to just drown him? Or just take his DNA and recreate the power aspect?” you asked. Unsurprisingly, the guard didn’t answer. You crossed your arms, glancing at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t much past eight and there were still a few hours until his scheduled “wake” time. “New plan.”

“New…plan?” he asked. You just knew he was rolling his eyes at you behind those thick black goggles.

“Well he’s my patient, isn’t he? I’m making a new schedule, one that’s more appropriate for the patient.”

“You can’t do that,” he said quickly, your chin raising. “He’s a prisoner.”

“I know I’m just the glorified ass wiper for this guy but the more he feels like he has someone in his corner, the more apt he is to let a secret loose. Maybe he says jack shit but maybe he tells me what the russians did so you can figure out whatever power crap you’re looking for. Got it?”

“That’s the Y/N I’d expect.” You turned around, Mallory appearing in a doorway behind you. “Dismissed, Greg.”

“Don’t play games with me,” you said when the guard left. Mallory took a few steps forward to join you at your side, peering down into the room below.

“We had to know you’d be a team player. You’re not dumb. I think you can understand why I want you to do this job, even if you don’t have your medical degree.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Am I supposed to be his doctor or his fake friend? Which is it?” you asked.

“Both. It probably won’t work, the cocky bastard’s too smart for it, but it doesn’t hurt to try every option. I’d like to think you in particular would be willing to do whatever it takes to figure out that supe destroying beam of his. Am I wrong?” You ignored her, staring through the glass to the dark room.

“You hired me to be his doctor so that’s what I’ll be. Anything more will be my choice, am I clear?”

“Fine. Now let’s get you acquainted with your patient.”

“Fine.” You turned and left the room, heading down a set of stairs. You were in a changing room that had hazmat suits and respirators, different outfits for you to choose from. Along the back was a fridge that held his food, a thick mixture that looked completely unappealing. Beside the fridge was a cart for you to bring in and out, a medical bag on top but otherwise it was bare.

You stared at the options and sighed as you picked up the gas mask on its own. For one, if he wanted to kill you, he really could, suit or no suit. But mostly you had a bad feeling in your gut, like he needed some actual human interaction. If they were barely letting him be conscious during the day, he was going to start having problems. Namely, the angry supe was only going to get angrier which meant more violent which meant way more likely he killed you.

A gentle hand might be the only way to get through these six months in one piece.

After securing your mask, you made a note of the log by the fridge, surprised to find he’d been fed roughly an hour before your shift started. Huh. Maybe they were treating him better than you’d though. With your bag in hand, you hit the button on the wall, thick metal doors opening and allowing you to step into an air lock. You hit the button behind you, sealing it off and then a large black one with a hazard symbol over it. A small light appeared red over the button for a moment before turning green. You hit the button on the far wall and another thick door opened to the dim room. A fine mist clung to the air, deadly novichok swirling all around you. You raised your arm, checking for any reaction but you weren’t expecting one. Novichok was an aerosol. You had to breathe it in to suffer any consequences which hopefully you’d never find out how that felt.

The door shut quietly behind you, leaving you alone save for Mallory observing from behind the thick glass panel above.

You set the bag down, approaching the side of the far end of the chamber and hitting a large black button. A locking mechanism released, the door swinging open and allowing you to grab the end of the pull out tray. The first thing you noticed was Soldier Boy was naked, followed by a slight warmth to the air. The tray helped but he was heavy, a solid wall of muscle you noticed as your eyes darted over his body. Every inch of him oozed strength.

Ever so gently, you moved to his side, knuckles grazing over up his leg, over his strong thigh, soldi chest. You rested your palm over his chest, a slow, steady beat thrumming away.

You didn’t falter, didn’t do anything strange as you started to check his pulse, mind wandering while you went through the motions.

Sure, you’d be his fucking doctor. Until you figured out how to get him out of there that was.

Ten minutes later you returned to the viewing room where Mallory had remained, her focus on Soldier Boy below.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. I know you’re thinking about how to break him out. Why do you think I hired you?” You smirked, cocking your head.

“So you don’t want me for my medical knowledge. Shocking.”

“Fuck no, just like I know you have no desire to finish med school. Use that money for whatever the fuck you want. You do what I ask and we’ll give you ten times that and maybe we end up dealing with your little…problem along the way.”

You glanced at Soldier Boy, pursing your lips. “Why the ruse? Why not just tell me you want me to act like I’m the only one on his side?”

“Because I had to see how good an actor you are. The second I told you he can take away another supes powers…you should have seen your face. You were already in. You’ll have to be on all the time with him though. No mistakes. He’ll snap your neck if he finds out.”

Your gaze shot back to Mallory, her mouth forming a small smile. “I’m good at pretending everything is just fine. So what exactly is the plan to get him to trust me?”

“Be his friend. A few weeks from now you’ll miraculously break him out after learning about the torture he goes through during the day in our attempts to understand his powers. He’ll be leery of course but weak with the massive dose of novichok will get in him. By the time it wears off, he’ll trust that you’re a caretaker for him, likely even fall for you. And then? You prove your loyalty, shower him with that love he so desperately wants but won’t admit to. By then, he’ll blow the powers out of whoever you tell him to. He’ll be our loaded gun without even realizing.”

“That’s what you wanted all along,” you said, Mallory nodding for the two of you to leave the room, heading down a hallway. “Because if it doesn’t work, you can blame it all on me.”

“There’s a reason I wanted you on this job kid and it’s not just because that man will take one look at you and want to screw you. You will need to adapt on the fly. Use that head of yours and we’ll relay the list of supes we want him to take out and then he’ll go back in his box.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s just hope he doesn’t kill me first.”

You were tired when you got home from work the next day around seven thirty in the morning. Mallory and security had given you an in-depth briefing of their plans. It was all very simple. Manipulate him. Make him see you as his only friend. Break him out and make him reliant on you to the point where he was doing exactly what they wanted without lifting a finger.

Except that wasn’t your plan. You’d break him out, play along to get him there but the second you had him alone, you’d tell him the truth.

And if he killed you in a fit of rage, so be it.

If he even could.

Three Weeks Later

You were grateful Mallory no longer came into work during your shifts. She wasn’t suspicious of you. Shit, she thought she had you read like an open book and you were perfectly happy to let everyone keep on thinking that. The guards left you alone unless you asked for something from them which meant you spent a lot of time either in Ben’s room, you’d taken to calling him Ben when you went in with him, or sitting in the observation room with a book.

It wasn’t hard to feign boredom when there wasn’t much to do. You desperately wanted to spend more time with Ben but it was dangerous to leave him off the gas for more than thirty minutes at a time. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call cognitively aware when you’d pull open the drawer and assess him. His eyes would flutter open weakly, a glimpse of an angry glare behind them before he’d call you a bitch and they’d shut again, his chest rising and falling deeper than when he slept.

Which meant you were in for a fun time in about forty five minutes when you were supposed to “break him free” according to the plan. You were meant to go about your usual routine with him before they’d take him away to the operating room they called it. More like commit war crimes against a prisoner.

You didn’t know exactly what they were doing to him during the day but it was bad enough that Ben was starting to show injuries. Injuries. On an all powerful supe. Nothing major. A few bruises and scratches but it meant something was up and you wanted to be done with this charade and now.

You just needed Soldier Boy to take care of Reaper, that god awful supe, and then he could do whatever the fuck he wanted for all you cared.

A faint scream in the distance made your head snap up. You heard it again and closed your book. Who the hell would be screaming in a place like this? You got up and headed down the hall, dipping your head in the observation room.

A louder scream rang out as you saw the empty cryo chamber. You ran out to the hall, bumping into a guard.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, Lance from the sounds of it.

“Where is he?” you asked, more screams heard now.

“Oh. Yeah, they kept him in the operating room longer today so he can do his ‘breakout’ with you soon. Sorry for the noise, he can get loud sometimes.”

“What?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“The breakout. You’re supposed to grab him from the operating-“

“I know which room I’m supposed to fake the breakout from. Why is he screaming?” you asked. The guard blinked, raising an eyebrow.

“He always screams. I would too if they shoved nuclear waste through a needle into my eyeball.” You scrunched up one eye, the guard giving you a look like you were the weird one. “It’s the only way they get the red matter out of him…”

“If you have your fucking red matter then what the fuck are you faking a break out for,” you growled. The guard held up his hands. “I asked a question.”

“Listen. I’m only telling you this cause I like you. They needed to fake a breakout that way they can drop their red matter bomb they’ve been brewing up and wipe out Soldier Boy and let the fallout spread down to the city and kill all the supes there, including Homelander. You were…the fall guy,” he said quietly. Your eye twitched as you grabbed his assault rifle, jamming the end under his jaw. “Y/N-”

“The only reason I’ll let you live is because you warned me. Now put on your gas mask.” He hesitantly did as told, securing it before you clocked him in the back of the head.

Soldier Boy let out another pained scream and you’d had enough. You grabbed your gas mask from your office and ducked into the security office, grateful to find it empty. A large red button behind glass sat on the far end of the console.

NOVICHOK - EMERGENCY USE ONLY

“Fuckers,” you said before smashing it, jamming it with the butt of your weapon. You watched on screen as people started to panic and then came the screams in the hallways as the nerve gas tore through their nervous systems, quickly but oh so painfully killing them. You knew there’d be a few people that would see the flashing amber lights in the halls and get their masks on before they keeled over. Whatever.

You’d deal with those people easily enough.

The monitors showed most people had gone down, convulsing violently as they foamed at the mouth. The south hallway was clear and after checking your gun, you ducked back outside, slipping the sidearm from the guard you’d knocked out into the back of your jeans. Soldier Boy had stopped screaming, the halls eerily quiet. Still, you stepped carefully, amber flashes bouncing off the dull gray walls.

Past the bodies, you went down the far passage, taking a breath before opening the double doors. Blood stained the walls. Dried blood. Old, rusty, oxidized blood.

“What the fuck…” you trailed off, eyes settling on where a barely conscious Soldier Boy lay restrained on the metal table in the center of the room.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, your eyes widening briefly. He rarely spent time awake with you and the rare occasion he did he’d only ever called you curses.

“Can you fight?” you asked, unbuckling the thick leather restraint wrapped around his right wrist. He was strong, powerful. But even he couldn’t escape when they kept him gasing him all the time. He grunted, closing his eyes. “Most of them are dead but there’s stragglers to deal with.”

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow under your mask, removing the leather restraints over his torso and left wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here. I need to get you up North,” you said, strapping the gun over your body. You helped him sit up, Soldier Boy’s body lax, littered with dark bruises. “Can you walk?”

He only stared as he slumped against your chest, face jammed against your body before mumbling, “You got great tits.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” you muttered. You grasped his shoulders, forcing him upright, Soldier Boy scowling as you barely kept his heavy body steady. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he tried to growl, coming out like a petulant child instead. You rolled your eyes, scanning the room quickly. Trays of syringes littered the room, bottles of something red inside some, a cream white liquid in another. “Fuck off.”

You dropped his shoulder, grasping his jaw hard, Soldier Boy flinching slightly at the touch. You’d deal with whatever the fuck that reaction was later.

“I will leave you here to die you insolent little man-child. Cut. The. Shit. Now.” The hardness in his gaze stopped, an almost panicked expression replacing it. “Work with me here. What’d they do to you? Why are you the equivalent of a sack of potatoes?”

“They keep me gassed and stick the white stuff in my eyes. I think it’s novichok,” he said. He closed his eyes, slumping forward ever so slightly before flying them open. “It’s the only way they get the drugs in. Or out.”

“Out?” You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. “Later. Can you move on your own or no?”

“I’m fucked for at least a few hours. Does that answer your fucking question?” He spit out the words, his glare indicating you’d be thrown against a wall if he were capable at the moment.

“Little bastard,” you grumbled to yourself, slinging the automatic rifle across your chest. He raised an eyebrow as you sighed. “Here’s how this works. You do as I say or you can die here. Your choice.”

“Get me the hell out of this shithole,” he growled, reluctantly holding out a hand. You turned, squatting down and pulling him into a fireman’s carry. He was warm against you, two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle. “At least you ain’t a weakling.”

“Shut up. Take that handgun in my waistband and shoot anything that moves and I mean anything.” He grunted which you took as an answer. You shifted you itself. Fuck, he was heavy. Dead weight too.

He might be able to run his mouth but that was all he had going for him. He nearly dropped the gun the second he took it out of the back of your jeans. Without another word, you exited the room, fine mist filling the corridors. Quickly, you moved down the hall, Soldier Boy grunting more than once.

“Shut up,” you whispered.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, albeit more quietly. With gritted teeth, you continued forward, eyes flaring wide when you saw movement ahead. Gunfire rang out as you spun around, Soldier Boy hissing as loud shots fired off behind you. It went quiet, Ben dropping huffing against your back. “Thanks for using me as a fucking meat shield. That’s the only reason you busted me out, isn’t it?”

You dropped him straight on the ground, straddling his hips, not even a flicker of amusement on his face. You held up the gun, Soldier Boy scoffing. “What part of listening to what the fuck I say don’t you understand?”

“Leave me to die then, bitch.” You grabbed his jaw, pressing your thumb right under his eyes socket, his eyes narrowing. You pointed the gun at the inner corner, his eyes focused on the barrel.

“I need you to kill a supe for me. Reaper.”

“Reaper? That dumb fuck kid? Why the-” You pressed the hot barrel against his cheek, Ben growling.

“It doesn’t matter why I want him dead but I do. You will die if we stay here, Ben,” you said, tucking the gun back away. You sighed, checking the silent hallways once before re-focusing on him. “Lots of people hurt you. People here hurt you. But I am the only one that’s ever tried to protect you from something. So be quiet or I will leave.”

A grin crawled onto his face, a frown forming on yours. “You need me, don’t you sweetheart? Cut the tough guy act-”

You grabbed his throat, Soldier Boy’s eyes narrowing. “A bomb is going to drop killing all supes on the eastern seaboard. That’s us and you know what? Fuck it. Maybe I get lucky and this thing kills Reaper somehow and I don’t need you.”

“Dramatic are we?” he said as you stood upright. You got three steps down the hall when he slammed his fist against the cement floor. “Fine! I’ll shut up and kill Reaper for you. Now get me out.”

You smirked, wiping it off your face and hoisting him up once more. He stuck to his word, keeping his lips sealed as you made your way out, shooting one more guard at the front lobby area before you were in the parking lot.

After a quick check for trackers and bombs, you picked him up off the cold pavement, sitting him in the passenger seat of your SUV.

“My suit,” he mumbled. “Need my suit.”

“Already in my trunk. I was supposed to take break you out,” you said, closing the door.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked when you got behind the wheel, leaning over to buckle him up so he didn’t slump over.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling off your mask and tossing it in the back seat. “We need to-“

You both tensed when the night sky lit up red in the distance, a towering inferno blazing up into the atmosphere from the direction of the city.

He grabbed your hand as a shockwave barreled toward you, both of you flinching as a strange feeling washed through your bones.

But you also felt a sharp familiar zap kick in and course through your arm, straight into his hand. He pulled his hand away, staring at you.

“What the fuck was that? Why the fuck aren’t we dead?” he asked, flexing his hand as best he could.

“I sort of…can’t die. I guess that bomb can’t kill me…or Reaper,” you mumbled, turning the car on and driving out of the compound. All the while you felt his drugged up stare. “I can’t control it. But good news for you, apparently you can’t die either when you’re touching me.”

You didn’t want to acknowledge that you felt all of his fear and pain when you’d somehow protected him. How afraid he was. How fucking alone he felt way, way deep down in a place even he didn’t touch until the moment of immediate death.

You slowed down, reaching over to hold his hand, ignoring the way he relaxed at the touch. Soldier Boy was out cold fast as the adrenaline wore off, his grasp on you too tight to slip out of.

You didn’t get far though, barely a few miles up the road when you saw people arguing outside a house, strange red streaks across their skin.

What the fuck did that bomb do?

Unfortunately for the two of you, you didn’t have to wait long to find out.

____________

A/N: Part 2 coming soon!

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys x reader #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfic #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy au #the boys #apocalypse au

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1d1195 · 2 months ago

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Honey VIII

Read Honey here | ~6.3k words

From me: Last part! Glad you enjoyed! 💕

Warnings: angst, blood, hospital stuff, some fluff. I actually think it's terrible so I apologize if you're like 'this is the dumbest thing I've ever read.'

Summary: “Please, love. Cece needs you,” he whispered.

She shook her head at the thought. Cece didn’t need her. She was just the nanny.

“You’re not just the nanny.”

Harry was already suspicious when the alarm company called him and there was no subsequent text from Miss Honey. It was evident the power had gone out again. But he headed home to make sure things were okay. Only because he knew the service was so spotty when the power went out. Harry didn’t think anything of it because his mind was so overwhelmed with thoughts of the pretty girl that loved his daughter and tasted better than he ever could have imagined.

Despite their awkward breakfast, he was pretty sure her duties would come first. Even if he was planning on letting her go.

It took a lot of thought over the last few days, but he decided he couldn’t be in love with someone who worked for him. He couldn’t have sex with someone he was paying to live there. It felt wrong ten times over. She wouldn’t be his nanny anymore, but he was praying it wouldn’t mean she would be leaving his house any time soon, either.

Harry was so distracted by his thoughts of telling her right when he got in that he didn’t even notice the light at the end of the driveway was on.

When he pulled into the driveway he hurried out of the car and rushed through the house. “Hey love,” he called. “Everything okay? The power is probably still weird from the storm...” he was shedding his jacket, his work bag tossed to the side. He threw his lunch bag down too, clunking with the Tupperware he brought home from Niall and himself. “Listen, we gotta talk—”

All thoughts of said talk were gone when he approached the sitting room.

The shattered glass of one of his windows decorated the floor like the worst confetti he could possibly imagine. Her phone was on the counter displaying exactly zero of the tens of texts and calls Harry had sent her. And her smart watch was tossed haphazardly on the ground, leading toward the backdoor.

Perhaps of course, most notably and most terrifyingly, there was no sign of Cece.

Harry felt a thousand emotions course through him. He wanted to scream and claw his heart out to make it stop hurting. Doubt clouded his mind briefly and nearly brought him to his knees. His trust wavering again. Was it all a trick? No. Never. It couldn’t have been. That was... that wasn’t something that could be faked.

Dinner wasn’t awaiting him, and he hadn’t even come to expect it but now that it wasn’t there, he hated the way he felt. Aching and longing for something he didn’t want—didn’t think he could have. She was supposed to have Cece wrapped around her pretty body, kissing her hair, and telling her how to make whatever was on the menu for the evening. He was supposed to be falling for how pretty she looked with his baby, their baby. Because Cece and Harry didn’t stand a chance. They fell for her. Hard.

Something happening to his baby made him nauseous and weak. His hands were shaking as he reached for his phone but was met without service. One of the last untraumatized brain cells in his mind began to take over. A slow rational thought. What if doubt wasn’t needed? What if she was in danger as much as Cece? Harry felt his stomach churn violently again. A film of sweat coated every inch of his body at once.

Right as he sincerely thought he was going to throw up or pass out, there was a faint muffled sound.

The sound of crying.

If the house wasn’t silent, even if there was only the hum of the refrigerator, he might have missed it. But it was silent. Not a sound. Except a cry.

Harry sprinted up the steps. Taking two at a time and listening to the muffled noise. He hurried to his bedroom. He noted his journal was askew on his bed, open and spine bent; a pen tossed against the comforter as well. The crying was louder, coming from his closet.

He nearly ripped the door off the hinges and crouched down to the little one on the floor. “Oh, baby girl,” he cooed and the relief he felt was so crushing he still thought he might pass out. The relief was downright overwhelming. The whooshing in his ears was so loud. He was a little worried he might drop poor Cece in his dizziness. “S’okay, baby. Daddy’s here,” he kissed her wet cheeks. He was saddened by how tear-soaked they were. “M’here,” his voice cracked as he pressed his lips along her face. “M’sorry, sweet girl.”

It was so dark in his room, and he wanted to see her and make sure she was physically okay. He couldn’t hold Cece close enough. His heart felt the slightest bit better—marginally. “What happened, baby?” He frowned. Her little sobs started to subside.

He turned the flashlight on his phone and glanced around the dark closet. Harry noted Cece’s favorite little stuffy first. Purposefully placed right where he scooped her up from. Harry grabbed it, handing it to Cece now that she had calmed down a bit. Her little shoulders shaking made his heart hurt.

His eyes noted the piece of paper ripped from his journal next. Her handwriting wasn’t neat and pretty like he had seen in recipes or the notes she left writing Dada and Niall on lunches. This was scribbled quickly, messy. Hurried.

H—

I’m SO sorry, I saw something... I hid her.

His stomach rolled. New fear taking over but just as powerful as the one he felt about Cece. Maybe worse in some ways. Because at least he knew where Cece was and knew that she did everything she could to keep her safe.

“Cece,” he croaked. Harry wanted her to stay little forever. But right then, he wished she could speak. “Where’s Miss Honey?”

The police investigation was just like a movie. There were more people at his house than he could fathom. There were telephones with secured lines tracking and pinging possible leads. The power was back on, and the security company sent the footage they had directly to the police.

Often kidnappings that lasted over twenty-four hours didn’t bode well.

So, when hour forty-three approached Harry was feeling beyond helpless, beyond hopeless. Cece losing the most maternal figure in her life made him feel like death warmed over. He didn’t answer a single work call. He couldn’t. His only thoughts were of her and how fucked up it felt. Anne and Gemma came and took Cece. Niall was watching the company and spending as much time with Harry as humanly possible.

He raked his hands through his hair again trying to piece together the image of the two men in masks that he had been staring at for the last thirty hours wondering who would want to hurt him so badly.

They were good. Even if they were dumb enough to take safety away from Harry.

The human body could last about three days without water. He prayed that whoever took the sweet girl didn’t want her dead as it approached day two.

Her head was killing her. This was the worst hangover she ever felt. Her body felt weak. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue felt just as dry. The floor was cold and the time asleep felt like nothing. The voices down the hall were back. They had been coming back and forth for the time she had been here. Deciding if killing her was faster than letting her just die naturally. Painfully.

Her blinks felt slow. The cramps in her stomach and legs didn’t even hurt anymore. She hoped Cece was okay and that Harry didn’t hate her for leaving her alone. Cece wasn’t alone for long—at least she hoped she wasn’t. Hopefully Harry found her shortly after she was yanked out of his home. Cece would have woken up alone in the dark and it made her stomach hurt worse than the hunger pains or dehydration setting in.

How long had it been? Time didn’t have meaning anymore, but she wasn’t stupid. Without water, she was fucked. She was merely collateral damage. Nothing more. Cece was safe. That was what she needed to remember and hold onto while her mind played tricks on her. They didn’t care about her—that much was obvious. She was cold, dehydrated, exhausted, and worried.

Harry was going to hate her. What if they went back for Cece? What if it wasn’t enough? If she had the physiology to produce tears and didn’t lack liquid, she would have cried.

“Hey love,” Harry whispered. She knew it was a figment of her imagination. Without water she was hallucinating. She didn’t answer him. It was too painful. “Y’need t’get out of here,” his voice had a pleading tone to it. But she was tired. She could barely move... let alone think. “Please, love. Cece needs you,” he whispered.

She shook her head at the thought. Cece didn’t need her. She was just the nanny.

“You’re not just the nanny.”

Hope infiltrated her heart. It was so unfair the hallucination would dangle that line of thinking in front of her. Even if it was her own subconscious trying to convince her. But she was. Harry had Cece. That’s what mattered more than anything else. Her family had hardly seen her in years. “C’mon, baby, please,” he begged.

She slowly sat up against the wall and it felt like she was going to fall right back over. Her eyelids fluttered, aching to close with how exhausted she felt. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Now y’gotta stand,” he reminded her. She swayed too much to feel like she had the strength to stand. But somehow, she did. Leaning back along the wall. Her hands were tied behind her. Her feet duct taped together. The voices from the other side of the house had disappeared again, a door closed. Faintly, she heard the crunch of gravel and tires exiting the driving away. She was alone again.

There was no furniture in the room, but she had been staring at the same four walls for who knew how long and there was nothing she could do to escape.

But there had to be something right?

The Harry she had conjured up was silent as he watched her. Even her brain was too tired, half alive, to make him talk. Moving painfully slow across the room wiggling awkwardly so she didn’t fall flat on her face with her feet duct taped together. She stared out the window. Freedom so close she could cry. It was her only hope, but she didn’t know what to do with it. She stared at the sill, the panes, through exhausted eyes. The strength it took to stand was hard. There was no way she could bust out the glass if she wanted to. “I know, baby, but y’gotta figure it out,” Harry begged.

She dropped onto the ground again, worried she would disappoint her hallucination. But only finally saw a glimmer of hope when she thought about passing out again. Her butt ached because she still hadn’t fully healed from the bruise she got from her fall in Harry’s office. She rolled onto her side and felt around for the metal heat vent cover protruding from the wall that she caught a glance of when she thought about falling onto the ground and just giving up.

She felt behind her, blindly and awkwardly, with her fingers for the lip of the cover closest to the floor. She pulled on it, hoping it was sharp. It was, given it sliced her finger making her hiss. She aimed lower on her arm. Getting the corner of the cover to line up with her wrists, she slowly sawed through. It cut her arm several times and now she worried on top of dehydration she was going to lose some blood too. Hopefully the cuts weren’t too deep, but her body was nearing numbness from how tired she was and she had no way of knowing how hard she injured herself from behind. She hoped this wasn’t part of her hallucination because it would be entirely unfair to make it out in her head only to continue to be trapped.

Once her arms were free, her shoulders felt achy, and she cried out at the relief of stretching them forward. Because of the blood, it was hard to get the duct tape to peel at her ankles. It took even longer for it to rip off. She stood again, bracing herself on the windowsill. She lifted her sore arm to unlock the window in the middle of the panes. She pushed on the window, but it stuck. She whimpered. “You can do it,” he whispered. “C’mon, kitten, you’re almost there. I’ll come find you, I promise.” Her hallucination was so nice she thought about just laying back down and letting him lull her to sleep. “No, no,” he shook his head. “You’re almost out, baby. I promise.”

She groaned and pushed the window out of the way enough to wiggle her body through. She fell to ground outside with a thud and she again, strongly considered just lying there on the cold dirt because it felt better than trying to stand. “One more time, kitten. M’not too far.”

How could her hallucination possibly know he wasn’t too far? That was a horrible thing to allow herself to hope. But she stood, half blind from her exhaustion. Then followed the tire tracks out of the driveway and down the dirt road. She was sure she looked drunk. Or maybe more like a zombie. But she just wanted to find someone. She was aching everywhere and felt weaker than when she was laying down. Her heartbeat was too fast, the blood she had in her system sounded like a hurricane in her ears.

She could have walked only fifty steps down that road, or she could have walked a mile. She wasn’t sure. Time was different now. Like it was moving backwards, forwards, and standing still all at once.

There was the sound of tires and she was so tired, her eyes barely opened. So scared and exhausted. Even her hallucination had abandoned her. It was over. She was done for, so it didn’t matter how tired she was. How hopeful she was. She dropped to one knee and then the other. Her body crumpling under her own weight. Right before her head smacked into the hard ground something caught her.

“Holy shit,” it felt weird that she would suddenly hallucinate Niall’s voice as well. That didn’t seem fair to Harry.

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered. His hallucination was so close to her face. She could smell his breath, minty. She sighed with relief, melting into his imaginary body. He was warm, solid, and she was glad he was there even if it was just her imagination allowing her one last moment with Harry regardless of if he was real or not.

Then she was floating, and she was sure she had died.

Harry stepped into her hospital room after they completed their tests. He had been waiting impatiently for the okay to see her once she woke up. It had been hours of pacing. The drive from the place he found her nearly crumpling, half-conscious was terrifying beyond anything he could have imagined. He cradled her in his arms in the backseat practically sobbing as it felt like Niall was purposefully driving slower to the hospital. Harry was so scared; he used a napkin to dab water on her lips as she slipped in and out of a wakeful state. “We’re almost there, sweetheart, please hang on,” he begged and pushed her hair away from her eyes. Harry got blood on his clothes that dripped from her fingers and wrists. Harry wanted to scream.

But now, she looked better, and he didn’t want to think about that drive again as long as he lived. She was severely dehydrated. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her skin was paler than normal but was slowly returning to her natural color. He was so grateful she was alive and there.

In every sense of the word, she was so beautiful it practically hurt him to look at her.

The second their gaze connected she began sobbing.

“I’m. So. Sorry.” She sniveled. “Is she okay?! Please tell me that she’s okay. No one has told me. I swear I’m going to be sick,” she moaned. “Please, please, please—”

Harry grabbed her hand quickly and squeezed it. “She’s perfect, love,” he whispered softly, reassuringly. Carefully, he cupped her face, wiping his thumb on her cheek soothingly. “Not a hair out of place.”

Her relief just caused more tears to fall. “You’re sure? You took her to a doctor? I left her alone, Harry. After you told me that...” her voice choked off, shaking her head, and looking at her hands. “She didn’t get a UTI? She wasn’t dehydrated from being stuck in—?“

“Miss Honey,” Harry murmured unable to keep the adoration out of his voice as he said the nickname of the sweet girl. “She’s fine. We’re going t’worry ‘bout you for a bit,” he squeezed her hand encouragingly. “You had me scared, love. More than that. I thought I lost you. That was terrifying.”

She sniffled, her shoulders shaking while she tried to wipe her eyes, but the tears were too quick. “Can I see her?”

“She’s with m’mum,” he assured her. “I just want t’make sure that y’were—”

“Please?” She begged.

“Love, she’s—”

“Please, please, Harry. Please,” she sobbed. “We can go right—” She started to pick at the tape over the IV and wires in her arm and hand.

“Hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her antsy hands. He looked her in the eyes and cupped the side of her face. “Love,” he whispered trying to calm her.

“Please,” she sniveled.

God. She would burn the whole city down. Harry was putty to her begging. He pulled his phone out and FaceTimed his mother. “Hey Mum, can we see Miss Cecelia?” He asked in greeting. At the same time, he squeezed her hand encouragingly.

“Look Cece, it’s Dada,” Anne kissed the top of her head. Harry felt relief himself, knowing she was okay and continued to be safe in Anne’s arms. There was a police detail outside his mother’s house, and one would remain at his own as well for the time being.

“Hi Ce,” he cooed. “Do y’wanna see Miss Honey?” He asked.

She wiped her eyes with the hand still attached to wires. Harry handed her the phone. It seemed her wiping was for nothing as she started to sob once more. “Hi sweet girl,” she tried to smile, but her lips quivered with more tears and anguish. “I’m so glad you’re okay, pretty baby,” she looked like she wanted to reach out and pull her through the phone and into her arms.

“Mama!”

Time seemed to freeze again. For a moment, she was certain she really was dead. Because this was heaven. Someone loved her so unconditionally. It wasn’t fair she was only shown on a phone and miles and miles away.

Time came rushing back as she choked on another sob and pushed the phone back to Harry unable to say another word. Harry felt his heart bouncing erratically in his chest as he looked on in complete awe of her. When he finally pulled his gaze from her teary face, he saw Anne had a knowing smile as she waved at Harry, ending the call.

“Please don’t fire me,” she begged. “Please, please, please. I won’t... I’ll sleep in the basement or outside, I don’t care. I just love her so much and she’s... she’s so perfect Harry and I want to make sure she’s okay all the time and if you fire me I won’t—” Harry couldn’t believe how lovely she was.

“Kitten, I have to fire you,” his voice was soft, and he cupped her face and swiped at the tears that fell faster than he could wipe.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I can’t be in love with someone I employ.”

Her tears slowed for the first time in what seemed like hours. She wiped once more, and she swallowed. “What?”

“I’m so in love with you, kitten,” he kissed her forehead. “M’getting you and Cece a security detail and I want you t’move your stuff into m’room. I want you t’do whatever y’want and—”

“Harry, I like working,” she smiled weakly but that sneaky hope flooded her.

“Then y’can open a day care at the office. A school. I don’t care. Y’can have every penny I earn t’do with whatever y’want. I jus’ want you t’be at home with me and Cece every day. I want you so badly, love. I thought I couldn’t have it all. But I want it all. So m’going to. M’going t’love you with everything I have,” he assured her. She shook her head, a fresh wave a tears flowed down her face. She still seemed scared and immensely dehydrated.

That was a lot to spring on someone but if she was serious, if she would willingly sleep in the yard to be close to Cece, then he thought she could handle what he had to say. His little one called her Mama. He would forever be grateful for the woman that birthed her. Chloe’s framed picture would be at every milestone. The sweet girl had already been taking Cece’s monthly pictures for her first year of life alongside her birth mother’s photo. Chloe wasn’t going to be forgotten, and Cece was a lucky girl to have a second mother who adored her as much as the woman she lost.

But in all that, Harry could see her worry and caution in her eyes. “I love you beyond what you provide for Cecelia,” he whispered as if he could read her mind. “You are the love I didn’t know I needed—didn’t think I deserved. You are everything I could have wanted and more.” When she didn’t respond immediately, he didn’t blame her. He cupped her cheek. “Y’don’t have t’say anything right now. Jus’ get better, yeah? There’s a little girl who needs her Mama,” he smirked.

“Babies,” she hiccuped unable to catch her breath. “Almost always say Dada first,” her smile was apologetic. Harry was going to give her everything she had ever dreamed of, but she did take the first word away from him. Which was a little unfair even in her worried mind.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Well, our baby is going t’be an overachiever.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

“You need rest, kitten,” he breathed but he wanted her lips on his more than anything.

“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll cry again.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her and nosed along her jawline, following it with kisses. “Is that your way of bargaining?”

“Is it working?” She seemed a little breathless. Like when he had her in her bed and made her cry out with his name on her lips. He brushed his mouth across hers. Soft, gentle. It was almost painful. It felt so good and so perfect. Everything he never believed he could have.

“For the record, Harry Styles,” she sighed when Harry rested his forehead against hers. He smiled at her lazily. Like he already knew what she was going to say. Maybe he did. She hoped he did because it seemed pretty obvious to her. “I love you, too.”

Harry tended to all the logistics over the next hour. Phone calls, rides, police, and more than she could possibly think of. Niall sat beside her because Harry refused to leave her alone while she was on the mend. He was happy to be there and even happier to hang out with with one of his newest and closest friends.

The wicked grin on his face told her they were jumping into all the details she failed to tell him for the last week. “Were you going to mention you slept with him?”

She blushed. “He told you?”

“Don’t worry, he didn’t say anything specific,” he winked. “I took several imaginative liberties.”

“You,” she shook her head with a smirk, “have a death wish.”

“Did you really push him away after?” He asked.

She swallowed and looked at her hands, her gaze fixated on her fingertip wrapped tight from the wound she got trying to escape. “Niall, he doesn’t need me.”

“But he wants you.”

“I just thought... he already has everything. He has a beautiful baby, a great career, a home, and—”

“He has a home because of you. He doesn’t have someone to share it with.”

“Well, he has you,” she mumbled.

“You’re much prettier than me,” he chuckled rubbing her free hand and kissing the back of it softly. “You scared the life out of him.”

“He’s been through so much, Ni. I know he said he didn’t love Chloe romantically, but he must have, right? Because of Cece?”

“It was a drunk night. He got to know her over nine months, but she wasn’t a settle down with one guy kind of woman. At least not at the time. If there had been more time, who knows what would have happened. But there wasn’t. They made a cute kid, and I know no one regrets their relationship. But it was one and done, darling. Chloe never owned his heart the way you do.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted that. Wanted all his heart. “What if he just loves the idea of me? Or the things I do?”

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he screamed at me to drive faster. Sobbed over you while he rubbed water on your lips. He thought he was going to lose you, and he was terrified. If he only loved you because of the things you did, he wouldn’t have been awake for the last two days straight trying to find you. He sent Cece elsewhere. He would have let the police handle a missing nanny case,” he reminded her. “But not the woman that stole his heart.”

She swallowed around the tears that clogged the emotion in her throat. “Have you seen his abs?” She whispered.

Niall snorted. “Gross.”

“I want to lick every single one. And his tattoos.”

“Oh, for the love of god.”

She smiled weakly. Her heart felt pulled in a hundred different directions. Unsure of what needed to be handled first. “Do you know if my family knows?”

“They’re on their way,” Harry said from the doorway.

Her jaw dropped. “What?!”

“They jus’ got to the airport. S’a long flight. But they’ll be here.”

“My brothers, too?” She croaked.

“Is now a good time to tell you that you owe me three more months worth of lunches for not telling me about the sex? And another two for the ab comment?”

She laughed but Harry smiled, rolling his eyes while he watched her. “What ab comment?”

“I can walk,” she reminded him. But Harry held her, cradled against him and shook his head.

“You’ll be lucky if I let y’walk in a week.”

“Oh, you’re going to be annoying, aren’t you?” He shrugged and entered the house through the garage.

“Hey love birds,” Niall called. The kitchen smelled delicious. “Not sure if it’ll taste nearly as good as your food, darling.”

Harry ignored his friend and brought her right to the couch. He placed her carefully in the corner of the cushions the way she liked and wrapped her new winter blanket around her. He went to her favorite store the week before and bought one for February. It was so faintly pink it looked almost white. It was decorated with hearts of different shades of reds and pinks along with the word love patterned into the soft material. He hoped she would like it. Because as silly as it was, he wanted to wrap her up with it and ergo wrap her up with love. That was the only thought he had when he saw it. “Here,” he hummed and kissed her forehead as he brought a straw to her lips.

She sucked on the water that even though the doctors had kept her for a few days to ensure she was better, it felt like heaven to have the cold liquid. Harry stroked her cheek like she was going to disappear. “You don’t have to watch me the whole time.”

“You owe me at least a month worth of lunches, darling. The way he screamed at me? Or how he complained about driving you to the hospital? He’s not leaving your side.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry pointedly. “She’s not making you a single lunch,” Harry grumbled.

“I always make him lunch,” she reminded him. “Add it to your tab, Ni,” she called.

“Not anymore.”

“How did you know where I was?” She asked, still sipping. Niall was eerily quiet, which was a bad sign. Maybe. “Did you two do something illegal?”

Harry shook his head. “Of course not.”

Niall snorted.

She gaped. “Harry Styles.”

“I jus’ looked up the property sales for the men that they identified which is perfectly legal. Niall and I may have gone t’each one while they dealt with finding them because the police assured me, they wouldn’t leave y’alone. So, while they tracked movement and cars and false plates, we tracked locations. Because they assured me that’s not how kidnappers work.”

“You guys interfered with a police investigation? What if they showed up at one of the locations and you were unarmed and alone?” She asked, alarm present in her voice. Nervous for something that didn't even happen.

“We would have called the police at that point,” Niall answered.

“Probably,” Harry muttered. “They didn’t behave like normal kidnappers.”

“Well, I wasn’t their first target,” she shrugged casually. Throwing off all the intentional plans probably through everyone for a loop. Her kidnappers and the police.

Harry looked conflicted briefly and then he winced as if whatever thought he had was too difficult to speak. But she already knew what it was because it was the very reason Harry was tending to her right now: holding her face while she drank precious, delicious, ice water.

“Ni,” she called keeping her eyes on Harry. “Can you grab my bag out of the car?”

“Course,” he headed off the kitchen toward the garage.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” she whispered. “That it was me and not her and you’re grateful for that. I’m so glad it was me,” she tilted his face up because he refused to look at her. “It doesn’t mean you love me any less,” she smiled softly. “I would also think you’re a monster if you didn’t feel that way.”

He shook his head unable to voice how incredible it was for her to know his thoughts. “I would never want t’make that decision,” he murmured. “If they took her...” He shook his head, and an involuntary shiver went through him. She moved her hand to the side of his cheek.

“It’s her. Every time,” she promised. “If it was you or her,” she rubbed her thumb on his lip. “You’re a lot stronger than her,” she reminded him. “Plus, I would have burned the whole city down to find you.”

Harry smiled and kissed her softly before her next sip of water.

“Are you done being gross?” Niall asked.

“Haven’t started,” she called back.

“Disgusting.”

Harry rested his forehead on hers. Right then the front door opened. She stiffened; worry painting her face. Harry squeezed her reassuringly. Gemma was holding the sweet little baby as she entered the room, and she gasped. Tears flooded her eyes so quickly Harry was just glad to see her sweet face melt with adoration for their little love. “Oh,” she sobbed. “Cece,” she whimpered.

Gemma smiled, dropped the diaper bag and quickly made her way over not hesitating a moment or prolonging her suffering any longer. “Let’s go see Mama, girly,” she cooed, passing the baby to her outstretched arms. She kissed her hair and clutched her to her as she cried. Cece didn’t really understand what was happening, but she loved her snuggles and nuzzled against her shirt. Harry cupped the back of her hand on Cece’s head and kissed the crown of Cece’s head before he kissed her temple. He stroked her cheek again of the tears.

“Thanks, Gem,” Harry smirked at his sister.

“Niall,” Gemma gave his shoulder a squeeze and then she leaned over and pressed her lips to the woman’s cheek that would forever be called Mama. “What are we making?”

“Your family, Mum, Eliza, everyone is going t’come over,” he told her softly while she breathed in Cece’s scent. “S’why Niall is cooking.”

She nodded unable to feel the weight of his words because she was overwhelmed with holding the little one. “Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Harry shook his head and gazed at the two girls right in front of him. “M’never going t’forget t’say it, kitten. I swear. M’going t’say it every single day,” he promised. “But, y’never have t’thank me. I owe you m’entire existence,” he whispered. “Thank you,” his lips brushed over hers and then down to Cece’s forehead.

“You don’t have to thank me,” her voice was soft. “You... you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

He smiled, his heart so full it felt overwhelming. “You deserve it, kitten.”

The terror that ripped through Harry’s throat at the sight of his bed half empty had him springing up and slamming his door against the wall. The police posted outside their house couldn’t have been that bad, could they? They couldn’t be. They would have called or come in if they had to.

Harry pulled the door out of the way to her old room. What he said in the hospital? He was dead serious. She wasn’t living down the hall from him anymore. She could turn her old room into a library or an office, he didn’t care. Harry left the hospital only once while she was there. To ensure the house was safe for her return. During that time, he moved all her clothes, her bathroom stuff, her books, all of her was going in his room where he could be close to her.

Or so he thought.

However, she wasn’t in her old room. Harry frowned, the worry creeping up his stomach and into his chest. Then, an overwhelming sense of relief went through him when he realized his mistake. He went to the next door and the nightlight painted the room and everything in it with the gentle glow. There, on the floor was the sweet girl, facing the crib, breathing at regular intervals.

“Kitten,” he cooed kneeling down behind her and gently shaking her.

She bounced and her eyes flickered to the crib. “What’s wrong, is she okay?”

“She’s fine, m’love,” his heart skipped a beat with how much he loved her. “Y’can’t be sleeping on the floor after the day you’ve had, sweetheart, c’mon.”

There was a brief pause while Harry stared at her. Cece’s little breaths were the only background noise they had. Soft and sweet, perfectly healthy. “I can’t leave her,” she whispered.

Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Of course. That was stupid of him. “Okay, okay,” he kissed the side of her face. He stood, scooped Cece out of the crib kissing her forehead as he did. She got to her knees watching anxiously as Harry held her like she was going to disappear. “C’mon,” he hummed, holding his hand out for the sleepy girl. She stood, then paused, blinking rapidly. “Are y’okay?” He asked, putting an arm around her waist immediately and shifting Cece to his other arm.

She nodded. “A little dizzy.”

Harry squeezed around her hips. He guided them back to their bedroom. “Here we go,” he placed Cece on the bed in the middle then slowly sat down the newest love of his life on the edge of the bed. “Are y’okay, kitten?” He repeated.

She nodded. “Just dizzy.”

“Do y’need medical attention?”

She shook her head. “Just got up too fast, I think.”

He kissed her forehead and sighed. “Wish y’woke me up. Scared me,” he tugged her toward the pillows beside Cece. Harry curled himself around her, her bum pressed close to his pelvic bone, their thighs and knees spooned together. She shifted a bunch, moving pillows and blankets to keep Cece in place while she slept soundly.

Harry draped an arm around her body and tugged her toward him even though there was no more room to move her back into his embrace. “I love you,” he murmured.

She brought his hand to her mouth, and she kissed his knuckles. “I love you.”

“Cece okay?” He wondered, hoping her answer would reassure her own worry.

“Yes,” she nodded. Harry kissed the back of her head and felt himself warm with her body so close. He could see the rise and fall of Cece breathing on the bed in the light from the moon streaming through the window.

“You’re okay?” He asked his voice quiet and soft.

She nodded. “I’m perfect,” she whispered.

He smiled. Sleepy, happy, and completely thrilled that he could have everything he ever dreamed of having right in his bed. “God, sweetheart. I couldn’t agree more.”

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