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itsactuallylina · 1 month ago

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FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT ☆ YJW

SYNOPSIS: falling for your best friend's cousin was never the plan, but as you and jungwon grow closer, keeping secrets gets harder. Especially when minju starts to notice!

PAIRING: best friend’s cousin!jungwon x f!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst(most of it), flirty jungwon, high school au, love at first sight kinda, mention of panic attacks , A LOT of angst, pov switching, intended lowercase, possible mistakes

FEATURING: enhypen sunoo, illit minju, zb1 gyuvin, kiof belle , bnd taesan

WORD COUNT: 12.8k (ik it’s crazy)

A/N:lol 😝 this is a revamp (?) of my old ass smau which has like 2 chapters LMAO. i was thinking about writing it as a long fic for like a year and finally did it! first long fic too bruh. pls lmk if u like it 🥹 also english is not my first NOR my second language 😭 so sorry if there are any mistakes ; tagging @miumura

check out the masterlist —> here !

“minju, where are we going now?” — you whine, not wanting to walk again, you were pretty sure that you already had over 15 thousand steps today, and yet, minju has another place she suddenly wants to go. “i am tired”

“you’re always tired” she claims, staring into your eyes. “you’ll like it, I promise”

you groan, tilting your head back. “every time you said this, I end up regretting it later”

“excuse me?” minju says baffled, “did you regret the arcade? the rooftop picnic? the train to nowhere?”

“…okay, those were fun,” you admit, narrowing your eyes. “but i’m still tired”

she grins, already tugging your wrist. “it will be quick, just a few pictures. i’ll even let you pick the filters!”you sigh, following her. “fine fine, but if I look half-asleep in them, thats your fault”

“deal!”

you knew that you would give in, you love minju. she is your best friend after all.

the photobooth minju suggested to go to was located in the popular arcade, the one you went to that one time. as you walk in, the neon glow of the arcade flickers above you, minju is already almost at the booth area, you quickly catch up with her, escaping the air filled with buttered popcorn and soda scents. you’re mid laugh, looking at the ridiculous stickers displayed at the entrance when—

thud.

you barely register the warmth of another person before you stumble back, almost falling off your feet.

and then you look up.

wow.

you almost forgot how to breathe.

he is gorgeous. the guy standing in front of you is tall, hands stuffed in pockets.

for a second, his gaze locks onto yours—in this mere moment you notice his boba eyes, lightly curled hair and his catlike features.

you realized you probably looked like a creep, so you break off the eye contact.

“y/n, are you alright? you almost fell down” minju took a hold of your hand, worry visible on her face, before it disappeared as she looks in the way of the person you bumped into.

your best friend scoffs. “ugh, seriously? again?”

again? your brows knit together as you glance between them.

that guy chuckled, his gaze locked on you again. “I’m happy to see you too. didn’t know you had such a pretty friend.” he says with utmost confidence. you can feel the warmth appearing on your cheeks at his compliment, trying to avert your eyes somewhere else.

“oh my god, can you not?” minju sighs dramatically, you never knew she could be so annoyed at sight of someone. huh, guess there is a side of her you don’t know of.

“what? you won’t even introduce us?” he smirks, not looking away from you.

“fine, jungwon this is y/n, y/n this is jungwon, my cousin.” a nth dramatic sigh escaped from her.

so he is minjus cousin…

“nice to meet you, y/n” he says, extending his hand for you to shake, your name rolling off his tongue the way you never thought you would hear.

“uh, yea, nice to meet you too” you stutter, mentally slapping yourself for it. that’s what you say? seriously ?

“you’re really cute, you know?” jungwon suddenly said, you still didn’t calm down from the previous compliment and he throws another one at you?

the blush on your face only deepens, making you look like a tomato. gosh, so embarrassing…

“sorry, but she’s off limits to you, don’t try.” minju remarks before you could even respond.

“off limits, huh. that’s a shame” her cousin replies. “oh well, we can still be friends, right y/n?”

mention of your name makes you jolt, and before you could even think, you agree. “Of course! Yea, we can be friends, no problem”

“y/n?! whatever, just don’t cross any boundaries” ou, maybe you shouldnt have said that.

minju grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the booth. “you can ignore him if you want to”

you let yourself be dragged away, but as you step in the photo booth you make a mistake of looking back.

jungwon is watching you, a smug grin on his face, like his cousins words don’t mean a thing to him.

If only you knew that it was just a beginning.

since it was a little holiday break before the school starts, you decided to visit your favorite record shop to finally buy a vinyl from your favorite group, arctic monkeys.

walking in, you feel the warmth of the cozy atmosphere. the record shop is filled with a quiet melody, which you recognize but can’t put a name on. the air is thick with the scent of old vinyls, worn leather, and a faint trace of coffee coming from the counter. your fingers skim over the albums on display, the rough texture of cardboard meeting your skin. the lighting is dim and golden. it was a place where time slows down. you loved it.

when you find the needed section, you scan the variety, thinking which vinyl you should get. your eyes stop at the familiar black cover with a white sound wave—AM, one of your favorite albums of all time. weird how you never got it, since your first choice song, fluorescent adolescent, is on it.

your hand extends towards the album, and as you almost take it, it disappears from your sight. you firmly turn, hand still in mid-air, eyes locked onto the thief who dared to snatch your treasured almost-purchase. and then—you freeze.

yang jungwon.

the same guy who shamelessly flirted with you back at the arcade, minju’s cousin. but now, the smirk he had the first time you met is nowhere to be found, replaced by an expression that you can’t quite read.

“jungwon?” your own voice comes out before you can even think. maybe you should get that checked out.

he blinks, then lets out a small laugh that gives away his disbelief. “huh, didn’t think that i’d run into you again.”

your gaze flickers to the album he still holds in his hands. “didn’t think you’d steal my vinyl either, but here we are.”

“steal? didn’t see your name on it.” the smugness you remember makes its way back onto his face.

“i literally was about to grab it,” you huff, crossing your arms.

jungwon tilts his head, examining the record while considering something, at least from the looks of it. “you have good taste, but i’m not sure if i should be impressed or offended that your first arctic monkeys vinyl wasn’t this one.”

“i didn’t really ask for your judgment,” you say, rolling your eyes.

he grins, offering the album back to you, but as you were about to take it, he pulls it back. “how about this?” he muses, eyes shining. “i’ll let you have this if you… beat me in a game at the arcade. let’s keep it fair and simple.”

your brows shoot up. “you can’t be serious.”

he shrugs his shoulders. “oh, but i am. you win—you get your precious AM album. and if i win?” he slightly leans in, just enough to make your heart do something stupid. “you take me out for coffee.”

you can sense heat creeping up your neck as he goes back to his original position. “that sounds more like a win-win for you, though.”

“exactly.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pretending to think about your options. jungwon watches you with amusement, twirling the vinyl between his fingers. finally, you sigh. “alright, lead the way.”

his smirk widens as he gestures towards the door with an exaggerated bow. “after you, my lady.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide the flutter the silly nickname gave you. feeling his presence behind you, you go through the aisles of the store. the dim light fades into the neon gleam of the arcade across the street. the distant sound of buttons and clicking fills the air, instantly reminding you of the last time you were here.

but before you can dwell on it any longer, jungwon steps beside you. “hope you’re ready, because i won’t go easy.”

you glance up at him. “never expected you to.”

maybe you should have been a little bit less of a nerd and agreed to gyuvin’s and taesan’s offer to go to the arcade.

you’re losing horribly. you did not expect jungwon to be this good at the games.

it all started with the air hockey—you were in the lead for the first few minutes before jungwon suddenly interrupted your scoring streak and literally humbled you. was it karma for being too confident?

then came the basketball shootout. jungwon scored three points out of five effortlessly. “i’m not going easy this time,” he teased.

“you said that six times already,” you muttered, focusing on the game before you, remembering the basketball lessons you attended in middle school.

your first shot bounced off the rim, making jungwon’s smile wider. “what’s wrong? scared?”

you ignored him, concentrated again, and—swish. the next shot was clean. then the next one. and the next one. and also the last one.

jungwon’s confidence wavered as you scored four points. you won.

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “you got lucky.”

you grinned. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” it was finally your turn to tease him.

now, the dance dance revolution is happening. the glow of the DDR machine flickered as the game loaded. the platform beneath you slightly vibrated, metal panels cool under your shoes.

as soon as the game started, the arrows flooded the screen. the music played through the speakers, matching your moves. jungwon was beside you, moving effortlessly, barely missing a step.

you, on the other hand, weren’t so careful. your movements were a little frantic, messy, but fun. laughter bubbled up between breaths as you nearly tripped on a tricky move.

“is that all you got?” jungwon teased.

“just wait,” you huffed, eyes locking onto the screen.

the song sped up, so did both of you.

your movements became more precise, matching the beat. the combo is unbelievably high right now, and everything seemed good.

until it didn’t.

you can feel yourself slipping because of the slick material of your shoes. already prepared for the impact, you’re expecting the pain, squeezing your eyes shut—

but instead, you feel warmth engulfing your hand and bringing you back up.

“careful now, it’s still not the end,” jungwon says while holding your hand and continuing to dance.

you, having no choice, but to carry on with your movements, but now, with intertwined fingers with the guy beside you.

laughter filled the air as the music started to fade away before it completely stopped and the game started to count your scores.

you, still breathless, still holding hands with jungwon, look at the screen.

87.

you feel proud, but you quickly glance at the screen next to yours, and it says the exact same thing.

you look at each other’s eyes before bursting into chuckles again.

“so it’s a tie?” he asks, turning to you.

“i guess so,” you reply, chuckling a little bit.

“alright then,” jungwon says while tilting his head towards the exit. “we both get what we want.”

you nod, still catching your breath. “right. first things first—my album.”

“lead the way.”

as you both made your way back to the record shop, the warm scent of vinyls and coffee filled the air again. scanning the shelves, you grab the desired AM album before jungwon could.

he just laughed. “happy now?”

“very.” you grinned, already going to check out.

when you paid for the vinyl, you find a phone right before you.

“put your number in. you promised me a coffee, remember?” he reminded you.

for a second, you hesitated, remembering minju’s words.

“come on, we had a deal.” a little pout appeared on his face, making you chuckle.

“alright, alright.” you take the phone from him and enter your number before giving it back. you feel your own phone vibrate in your back pocket.

“just making sure it’s real.”

“do i look like someone who gives fake numbers?” you scoffed.

“not really. more like someone who’d block me instead.” jungwon hummed.

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, he was already heading toward the exit. “i’ll text you. be ready.”

and with that, you were left alone near the checkout station of your favorite record shop, with the number of a really handsome guy who was off-limits.

the break ended, and you were back at school. the bell rang, signaling the start of lunch. you packed your bag and headed toward the cafeteria to meet up with your friends. when you arrived, you could see your friend group sitting at your usual table.

“hey, everyone.” you greet them, sitting near belle. you unpack your lunch, listening to the conversation flowing around you. belle was excitedly talking about some new drama she started, while minju scrolled through her phone, occasionally nodding. across from you, gyuvin and taesan were locked in some silly debate about whether mint chocolate was a real ice cream flavor or not. the usual chaos filled the cafeteria—laughter, the clatter of trays, and distant complaints about break ending too soon.

just as you were about to take a bite of your food, minju nudged your arm. “so,” she started, “did you end up getting your album?”

you put your chopsticks down. “yeah, why?”

belle perked up. “wait, didn’t you say jungwon was there too?”

at the mention of the guy’s name, minju sighed dramatically. “ugh, don’t remind me. of course he was. he is everywhere. seeing him at school and family gatherings is enough for me, but no, of course not.” she complained further, making belle laugh.

taesan, who was half-listening, raised an eyebrow. “jungwon, as in your cousin yang jungwon?”

minju sighed again. “yes.”

gyuvin smirked, leaning toward your side with curiosity. “this kinda sounds like a wattpad story. you and jungwon at the record shop? what happened?”

you shrugged, not wanting to give details. “nothing much, we just ran into each other,” you say, leaving out the arcade and the bet. technically, you didn’t lie—you did run into each other.

minju scoffed. “yeah, and he used his annoying charm, didn’t he?”

belle grinned. “that explains why y/n looked a little flustered.”

you decided to ignore her comment, but the way minju stared at you made you shift uncomfortably.

before she could interrogate you further, a new presence approached the table.

jungwon.

your breath hitched as he casually walked past, chatting with some of his friends, some of whom you recognized. jungwon didn’t stop, but as he passed, his gaze found a way to you—just for a second. a glance and a knowing smirk.

your stomach did a weird flip.

taesan must have noticed because he nudged you with his elbow. “uh-oh. what was that?”

you quickly shake your head. “nothing.”

minju, however, caught on immediately. “y/n.”

you ignore her, suddenly finding your lunch very interesting.

but your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you had a guess who that was.

jungwon: hope you’re not backing out of our deal, pretty girl :)

you locked your phone, hoping no one saw that message.

yeah… this was going to be a problem.

if before you never noticed jungwon at school, now it’s a different story.

minju was right—he is everywhere. you go to the vending machine? he is there. go to your locker to grab a textbook? jungwon is across from you, near his own locker. even in the cafeteria, he always seems to find a way to sneak a glance at you. what’s worse? he makes it obvious. always smirking at you, showing off his dimples. at times, texting you compliments, reminding you of your promise to get coffee with him.

now, as you come out of the teachers’ lounge after discussing your projects with the physics teacher, you really hope not to bump into jungwon.

but luck is not on your side.

as you step out of the teachers’ lounge, you barely take a few steps before a familiar figure casually leans against the wall beside you.

“took you long enough.”

you blink at jungwon, who’s watching you with his signature smirk. “were you waiting for me?”

he shrugs. “let’s say i had a feeling you’d pass by here.”

you cross your arms, raising a brow. “and why exactly would you wait for me?”

“well, i think someone still owes me coffee.” he tilts his head, pretending to be in deep thought.

you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “i didn’t forget.”

“good, because i was starting to think you were trying to escape from our little deal.”

you scoff. “please, if i wanted to, you wouldn’t even see me.”

jungwon chuckled, clearly amused. “is that right? guess i’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

he steps back, shuffling his hands into his pockets as he starts to walk down the hall. “meet me at the front gate after school, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah. don’t be late.”

he grins. “i should be the one saying that, pretty.”

and with that, he disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing there, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

but someone noticed the blush on your ears, and they weren’t overjoyed with it.

minju and you had been friends since middle school. she truly cared about you, thought of you as her best friend. but as she watched your interaction with her cousin, she couldn’t help but feel the disappointment creeping in.

she wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much—maybe it was the way jungwon looked at you, like he already had you all figured out. or maybe it was the way you looked back at him, the kind of gaze she had never seen you give anyone.

minju had always been protective of you—it was a responsibility she felt. she had been by your side for years. through every bad grade, every family argument, every late-night conversation about life. you were her person, and she assumed she was yours too.

but now, watching her cousin tease you with his shameless smirk, watching you try to stop the smile from appearing on your face, she felt like someone had stabbed her with the sharpest knife.

it wasn’t jealousy, as she thought. she didn’t really care about jungwon chatting with her friends, but the thought of him stepping into the space she always thought was only hers, the thought of you abandoning her for her cousin—made her stomach twist in pain.

she knew how jungwon could effortlessly pull people in with his natural confidence, and she knew you too, how easily you could be swayed with kindness.

was she overreacting? maybe, but as she caught the faintest blush on the tips of your ears, she couldn’t shake the feeling that made her feel horrible.

and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

the afternoon sun hung low as you stepped out of the school grounds, only to be met with a familiar smirk. jungwon was already waiting, leaning against the fence, looking too pleased with himself.

“thought you’d run off and break our promise,” he teased.

you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched. “you wish. i take my debts very seriously.”

“so buying me a coffee is a debt now?” he raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

“you practically scammed me into doing this.”

jungwon let out a laugh, his dimples showing. “and yet here you are, willingly taking me to the café. interesting, isn’t it?”

you didn’t have a comeback for that, so you stayed silent, making him chuckle as he opened the café door for you.

you both walked to the counter to make your orders.

“i’ll have a peach iced tea, please,” you ordered your usual.

jungwon hummed, looking at you with an amused expression. “peach iced tea, huh? didn’t think you’d be the sweet type.”

you almost looked offended. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he grinned, turning to the barista. “i’ll have an iced americano. card, please.”

you blinked. “wait, what?”

jungwon shrugged, handing over his card before you could protest. “consider it a treat. since, you know, you’re already so sweet.” his tone was playful, but the smile told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

you groaned, hiding the warmth creeping up your face. “you’re impossible.”

he simply laughed, nudging your arm lightly as you both stepped aside to wait for your drinks.

you didn’t think jungwon would be an interesting person to talk to.

yeah, he made you feel something, but you just brushed it off as pointless flirting.

but as the conversation between the two of you kept going, you realized there was more to him than just smooth lines and smug grins. he was funny—witty in a way that kept you on your toes. he listened, asked questions, and actually seemed interested in your rants about movies, books, music—whatever else slipped past your lips.

at some point, you caught yourself not hiding the smiles anymore, leaning in a little closer. it was easy��too easy—to get comfortable around him.

still, you reminded yourself: it was just playful banter. nothing more, nothing less.

at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

as the evening settled in, you and jungwon stepped out of the café. the cool air was a stark contrast to the warmth of your conversation. the streets were quieter, bathed in the golden light of street lamps.

“you didn’t have to walk me back, you know,” you said, glancing at him.

“i wanted to.”

you didn’t protest, secretly enjoying the way his presence made the walk feel shorter, lighter—better. the conversation continued, usual teasing remarks mixed with moments of quiet comfort. by the time you reached your doorstep, an unfamiliar hesitation lingered between you two.

“well,” you started, gripping the strap of your bag. “thanks. i had fun today.”

jungwon grinned, but this time, there was no smugness behind it. his smile felt softer. “me too. see you tomorrow?”

you nodded, stepping inside, giving him a little wave he reciprocated. when the door clicked shut, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

as jungwon walked away from your house, the usual confidence in his steps faltered. the night air felt heavier, and for the first time in a while, he found himself deep in thought.

at first, it was fun—teasing you, watching you get flustered, sneaking in compliments just to see your reaction. it was easy, something he never took seriously.

but now?

now there was this unknown feeling in his chest, one he didn’t understand. the way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up as you ranted about your favorite songs, the way you looked at him when you thought he didn’t notice—it all replayed in his mind, like an arctic monkeys album on repeat.

he liked you.

the realization hit him. it was both exciting and terrifying because it wasn’t harmless flirting anymore. it wasn’t a game anymore.

and suddenly, fear crept in—the fear of messing up, of ruining the dynamic you already had, of what minju would think, of what you would think if you found out how he was starting to care.

with a sigh, he pulled out his phone, hesitating before typing a message. but in the end, he deleted it, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he continued walking.

for now, he’d play it safe.

but he knew these feelings weren’t going to disappear anytime soon.

minju has been acting weird. not in a way that it’s obvious to everyone—she still laughed at gyuvin’s dumb jokes and rolled her eyes when taesan ranted about some rock band he had a hyper fixation on. but with you, something shifted.

she didn’t text as often, and when she did, her replies seemed distant and dry. at lunch, she still sat beside you, but the stiffness in her posture gave out how she was forcing herself to act normal.

you had a guess it was about jungwon, but there was no direct proof. she hadn’t said anything, nor confronted you. she hadn’t even mentioned his name. when you caught her looking at you, you could see an unreadable emotion—something about it pained you so much, no words would be able to explain it.

the worst part about it all—she pretended everything was normal, when it was clear as hell it was not.

did she think you wouldn’t notice?

you had enough.

after a week of minju’s distant behavior—short replies, the forced smiles, all the excuses—you could not take it anymore.

so when the last class of the day ended, before she could storm off as she did the past week, you gathered up all the courage you had and reached for her wrist.

“minju, wait.”

she froze for a second, carefully turning to you, her expression blank. “what?”

you exhaled, steadying yourself. “can we talk?”

you could recognize slight hesitation in her eyes. but then she sighed, pulling her wrist from your hold. “okay.”

you didn’t miss the way her shoulders tensed, she already knew what you were about to say.

as the teacher stepped out of the classroom, leaving you two completely alone, you opened your mouth to say something—but nothing comes out. the guarded look on minju’s face made you hesitate.

still, you pressed further. “minju… have i done something wrong?”

her brows furrowed, like she did not expect that. “what do you mean?”

“you have been avoiding me—barely talking, no daily update texts, you don’t even look at me!” you said it all in one breath. “please, tell me if i have done something wrong.”

she scoffed, shaking her head. “you didn’t do anything.”

“that doesn’t sound really convincing.”

she exhaled heavily, gripping the strap of her backpack. “i just—” she stopped herself, biting her bottom lip, before muttering, “nevermind, it’s nothing.”

you frowned. “it is if it’s making you act like this.”

she looked conflicted, her fingers twitched, like she wanted to grab something, maybe steady herself. then, she let out a humorless chuckle.

“you really don’t get it, do you?”

you raised your eyebrow, signaling her to elaborate.

minju sighed. it wasn’t her usual frustrated huff, it was heavier, emotionally deeper.

“it’s jungwon.”

you blinked. “jungwon?”

she nodded, letting out a breath she was holding. “you and him. i see the way you two are.”

you looked at her confused, not exactly understanding what she meant.

she looked at you, her eyes did not hold any frustration behind them, they were hurt.

“i hate it.” her hands clenched at her sides. “i hate seeing you with him. i hate that your smile is brighter with him rather than me.”

your breath hitched at her sudden confession. “minju…”

“i know i shouldn’t feel this way, i know it’s selfish,” she continued, her voice wavering. “but i can’t help it. you were my best friend. and now—” she swallowed hard.

“now, i feel like i’m losing you.”

you could feel your heart ache. minju had always been at your side, and you’re making her feel like this.

you took a step closer, taking her hand. “ju…”

she shook her head, wiping a few stray tears with her free hand. “i just don’t want you to leave me behind.”

you hesitated, guilt twisting inside you. fidgeting with your fingers, you remembered all the times minju had been distant lately, the way she avoided you, the way warmth in her was replaced by something unfamiliar, colder. it wasn’t about jungwon. it was about you. about her. about the space growing between you.

you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her more than you already did.

your arms flung around her, hugging her tightly. you whispered, “i won’t see him anymore.”

minju’s eyes widened. “what?”

“if it brings you that much pain… i’ll stop.”

for a moment, she stared at you, as if she didn’t believe you. then her lips parted slightly, letting out a shaky breath.

“…thank you,” she whispered, hugging you back.

you gave her a small smile, as you continued to hold her. but deep down, you felt something twist painfully.

you ignored the feeling, because if staying away from jungwon would fix things, then that’s what you will do.

you will keep your distance. you will ignore the way your heart pulled you in the opposite direction.

making things right with minju was what mattered the most.

but as you held her, a storm of emotions burst inside you, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling that this decision would leave a crack in your heart that might never heal.

that night, as you lied in bed, the weight of your promise crashed on you like a big pile of stones. every time you closed your eyes, you saw jungwon’s smile — the way his dimples would appear when he teased you, the way his eyes softened when you reacted to it. you tried to push these thoughts away, telling yourself it was for minju, but to no avail. the harder you tried to fight it, the more his face lingered in your brain. was this really the right thing to do?

you decided to scroll through your chat with him — for the last time, before everything comes to an end. going back to older texts, you stared at your phone, that one message glowing on the screen: “hope you’re not backing out of our deal, pretty girl”. a smile tugged at your lips, before quickly wiping it away, remembering minju’s tear-strained face. she was—is your best friend—your person. you had to fulfill what you promised. but then why did it hurt so much, even from a mere thought of letting jungwon go?

you decided to go wash up, maybe a cold shower will freshen you up.

that’s what you thought.

the cold water hit your skin, sharp and biting, but it did little to wash away the mess in your mind. you stood there, letting the water hit you, hoping that it would drown out the thoughts about jungwon. but instead, it only made them louder. overwhelming thoughts clouded your mind. what if this was all a mistake? your—whatever it is—with jungwon. maybe he really didn’t care about you, maybe he was just bored and decided to play with you. but then you remembered the way he looked at you — like you were the only one in the whole world. undoubtedly, jungwon made you feel like it. you remember the way his hand held yours back in the arcade — warm and steady, like the tickling of a clock. even now, you swore you could still feel it, under the icy stream, the ghost of his touch hugged your fingers.

was it possible to miss someone that much?

after what you thought would be a refreshing shower, your mind never cleared up. changing into pjs and trying to sleep—uncountable attempts at emptying your head and tossing and turning in your bed.

concluding that trying to fall asleep was pointless, you went to your small balcony, the cramped comfortable place with a small couch. you always liked it, the way the city noise faded into distant hums, the way the sofa would cradle you when everything was too heavy.

you hugged you knees to your chest, looking up at the star-filled night sky, the cool air brushing against your skin. the familiar comfort of the balcony couldn’t help with the ache in your heart. why did it have to be like this? why did you have to choose between the person who was always there for you and the person who made your heart race in a way that you’d never felt before?

life is so unfair.

you knew that the next day would be challenging. you woke up earlier than usual, just so you wouldn’t bump into jungwon at your locker, just so you didn’t have to regret the decision.

one thing you were grateful for—jungwon wasn’t in your class. belle and gyuvin were—they helped you to empty your mind, they made things so much easier for you. at that moment you silently thanked them for being there.

during lunch, you sat at your usual table, forcing a smile as belle and gyuvin had a heated debate over something silly again. minju was next to you, her laugh ringing out as she teased gyuvin for his unluckiness. she was looking better, happier.

she gave you hope that everything might be okay. when she noticed you looking down, which she always did, she took a hold of your hand, squeezing it lightly. you looked at her, smiling and squeezing her hand back, signaling that everything was okay.

it was a lie.

you noticed jungwon coming closer to your location with your peripheral vision and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking, but you had to. you could since the way his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. you couldn’t reciprocate it, you shouldn’t. so you didn’t, you simply ignored him, rather engaging in a chat with your friends about who knows what.

this choices pained you, but you didn’t pay attention to it. thinking everything will be alright as long as you don’t acknowledge it. just to make sure, you squeezed the hand in your again, hoping the gesture would help to relax, but all it did was remind you of the promise that could be broken with a single glance.

it will be fine.

that’s the phrase you kept telling yourself, over and over, like a mantra. but as you sat there, surrounded by your friends, their laughter and chatting filling the air, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were lying to yourself and everyone else. you didn’t wanna believe it, refusing to accept your own thoughts. everything will become easier.

right?

the rest of the day passed in a blur. everything was as usual—you answered some questions in class, nodding along your conversations, even laughing at the right moments. you tried to delude yourself into thinking that everything was fine, and you almost succeeded. in the back of your mind, thoughts about jungwon still lingered.

when the last bell rang, you let out the sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding. you hurried back to your locker, you had to go home as quicker as possible, you didn’t want to encounter with anyone. but to your luck, fate had other plans for you.

“hey”

the familiar tone of his voice made you freeze. slowly closing the door to your locker, you stepped back, to make the distance a little bit longer between you two, as it didn’t feel as an enormous canyon already.

as your gaze met his, for the first time today, you were stunned. there he was in all his glory — jungwon. he was casually leaning against the lockers, hands holding his backpack.

“you’ve been avoiding me” the way he said this was light, but it carried something heavy, his eyes tell everything.

you open your mouth to deny, but you can’t. because its true. you have been avoiding him. you did everything just to not interact with him. suddenly, you can’t look him at the eyes, unable to focus on anything, your eyes run across the hall, just to find something. anything.

“is everything alright?” his soft, somewhat scared tone made your eyes flicker to him again. this time, he wasn’t looking at you, instead, he stared at the floor beneath him.

if the smirk that had a place on his face at the start of the conversation, now it disappeared. his face carried so many emotions, but one stood out the most.

fear.

this is the first time you see him like this, the confident, cocky jungwon, was now too scared to look at your eyes, asking such a simple, but at the same time difficult question. you didn’t know what to do.

one part of your mind whispered—to apologize for ignoring him, to hug and to comfort him. you want to say that you didn’t want to make him feel like this. but on the other hand, someone screams at you to go away, to stop seeing him, to tell him to block your number. and the one thing that pulls you to do so, is the promise between you and minju.

you never have broken your promises, never. even in the third grade when you got one C, you promised your parents to get 100 in all the classes next semester. that you did, even when you were sure that they wouldn’t mind if you got less. even in the 7th grade, when you promised to bake cookies for all your friends, with zero knowledge of baking. you still did it, even if the taste wasn’t that amazing. you still did it.

you can’t break the promise you made yesterday, the promise to your beloved best friend.

what you were about to do will hurt you, and you will definitely regret it, but it just had to be done.

“lets stop this” you say sternly, trying to hide away all the pain that your own decision brought you, hoping that it will ease the impact on jungwon, fully knowing that it wont.

“what?” his head shot up, a surprised look evident on his face. for a moment, he just stared at you, as if waiting for you to laugh and say it was a joke. but that moment didn’t come, his expression shifted, confusion and hurt played on his face, along with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.his eyebrows furrowed, “are you serious?”, his voice cracking slightly.

you just nod your head, despite the storm and explosions inside your brain. fixing the bag strap on your shoulder, you just walk away, like it didn’t bother you, like you didn’t care about the record shop, arcade, cafe, like every his message didn’t bring you joy, like you didn’t care about him.

each step was heavier than the last one, you could feel the way he stared at you from behind, even when you wanted to, you wouldn’t dare to meet his eyes. if you did, you were sure you’d break.

tears welled up in your eyes. you want to apologize, want to say that it was just a stupid prank. but you couldn’t. not even for him.

as you walked away from the school grounds, you let tears spill, not able hold them back anymore. you wiped them away, but they kept coming, they were serving a reminder of what you just did, what you just lost.

as you walked home, the weight of your decision settled with unexplainable pain in your chest, a constant sickness that didn’t fade.

when jungwon arrived home after that night, he started thinking immediately.

should he confess or should he wait? if the first, then how? where? with flowers? with a plushie? with a vinyl?

as he thought about these, the moments of your talk flickered in his memory. not wanting to forget a single detail, jungwon grabs his notepad and writes down everything he remembers.

even after scribbling down his thoughts, his heart didn’t calm down—it still raced, he couldn’t understand, it was the first time he felt this way, he didn’t think that someone would be able to make his stomach flip with every emotion known to the world. he leaned back in his chair, spinning mindlessly around his room as different outcomes played in his mind. he was fed up with all this overthinking.

he should rest.

that’s the conclusion he came to. jungwon rushed to the shower, turned up the coldest temperature and screamed in terror.

that’s not what you do, idiot

after adjusting the temperature, he basked in the comfortable rain, calming down his mind and heart. that night he slept almost worry-free.

the week went smoothly, usual eye contact with you at lunches became something more, little waves joining the routine. jungwon tried to talk with you during breaks more too, finding you at your locker or vending machine in the backyard of the school campus.

sometimes you would share short jokes with each other, laughing quietly. the other, you would get to know each other more, playing 21 questions, this way jungwon was able to show you the picture of maeumi and find out that you adore dogs, especially the small ones. that small fact brought a smile on his face, he started to imagine the walks that you two would go on, he’d bring maeumi along, and you would have a nice picnic date, maybe.

he was quickly snapped back into reality with your next question, pretending that he didn’t just imagine how you would intertwine hands.

one time, you were quiet with each other. it could’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t, it was comforting actually. the wind gently blowing on you, carrying faint noise from other classes along. you two would just laugh at that while making eye contact.

everything seemed to go smoothly, jungwon was already brainstorming ideas for his confession—already sure with his choice. there was just one question left to ask: what is your favorite arctic monkeys song.

and he was sure that today he would ask it.

the morning went as usual, he got up, brushed his teeth, got dressed and went to school. his first period was math, but even that couldn’t ruin his mindset, which wasn’t unnoticed by his friend, sunoo.

“what’s up with you today? you’re never this hyped for mr. lee’s class”, he asked, looking at jungwon like he grew 2 heads.

“it’s nothing, just have big plans” and that he did, jungwon planned to take you to the vinyl shop where you met during the break. listen to some albums and ask you the question he badly needed an answer to.

“something related to y/n?” sunoo asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

instead of a response, jungwon just smiled, the red cheeks answered for him. and when he heard the giggle his classmate made, the blush only deepened.

up until lunch, jungwon couldn’t contain the happiness he had, smiling through all his classes, even through chemistry. his classmates looked at him like a maniac, i mean, who smiles during organic chemistry explanation?

he didn’t care about all that tho, all he wanted is to see you at lunch, look at your eyes and smile.

when he met up with jay near the cafeteria, he knew that they would pass your usual table, he mentally prepared himself for that moment.

he walked in your direction, that way, you would face each other perfectly, and when he almost waved, you refused to meet his gaze, preferring to engage in a conversation with your friends.

the smile on jungwons face immediately faltered. he felt an instant drop in his chest, confusion overtook his expression, if the cafeteria wasn’t so crowded, he would definitely stand like a deer.

jays arm was placed on his back so he would continue walking, and jungwon couldn’t help but submit. a wave of emotions struck him. what was that just now?

he could only keep walking, but the only thing replaying on his mind was how you turned away from him. over and over.

did i imagine that? maybe y/n just didn’t see me, yea that has to be it.

he tried to reason with his own brain, but the more he thinks about the interaction, the more doubt he has. you looked at everyone else, hell, jungwon swore, you looked at his direction for a millisecond. you saw him, you just—chose not to.

the weird feeling appeared in his stomach, not the one from before, no. it didn’t make him giggly and happy, instead, it made him sorrowful, doubtful.

jays words don’t even make sense now, jungwon can’t hear them, all he can think about is: what did i do wrong?

when he met up with his other friends, his mind was somewhere else, he didn’t answer their questions, he couldn’t even hear them, he was deeply immersed in his own thoughts. every single possibility crossing his mind. he had to ask you what was that.

after lunch, he could not focus. if in the morning it was because of the happiness that distracted him, now it was the misery casting upon him. he had to get out of this class immediately. jungwon counted seconds until the bell. and when finally it rang—he ran to the backyard with all his strength. he doesn’t mind his friends who look at him confused, he has to go to your spot. and when he arrives—

nothing.

jungwon is met with emptiness of the backyard, if you wanted to come here, then you would, your classroom was literally a minute away, unlike his. but you didn’t.

you’re not near the vending machine, not sitting on the bench, and you’re not even crouched down in the corner where you two would usually sit.

then it hits him. it’s not a coincidence.

you’re avoiding him.

jungwon just stands there, not knowing what to do. he takes in the silence—the emptiness. the place that was associated with warmth was colder than any winter.

now he must talk to you. he checks his watch, it was 2 minutes before the bell on the last lesson. he had no choice but to come back. when his friends tried to question him, jungwon just shrugged, signaling that he didn’t want to answer anything.

he just has to wait for another hour. damn it.

when that painfully long 60 minutes passed, jungwon stuffed all his things into his backpack, not caring if it was messy, which was unlike him, he always made sure that his notebooks are all organized. the mess in his head made his actions look chaotic.

when he arrived at the lockers, he saw you. rushing to put all your textbooks in a tiny blue locker. why were you in such a hurry? is it because you didn’t want to see him?

jungwon shakes his head, there was no time to overthink, he just had to ask, you were right here, in front of him.

as he tried to calm his mind down, you were almost done. he leaned against the lockers, almost whispering:

“hey”

jungwon could see you stop in your movements, this little detail made his heart sink, his hands gripping the backpack strap so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

as you carefully close your locker and take a step back, which breaks his heart, you finally look at him, at that moment, jungwon felt mute, he couldn’t get any words out of his mouth, and he had plenty. he wanted to curse at you, question you, adore you, but all that he is able to muster out is — “you’ve been avoiding me”

you look stunned, like you didn’t expect that question, but quickly that expression transformed into one of regret? that only made jungwon more curious at what you had to say. he felt despair, he was dying to know what prompted such behavior from you.

after noticing how your orbs scanned through the school hall, he couldn’t continue looking at you, instead, shifting his gaze to the floor, wishing that it would swallow him as a whole. “is everything alright?”, he manages to whisper.

few seconds later, which felt like an eternity, you look at him, with a stare so harsh, that it felt like a hit by a metal bat.

“let’s stop this” you say, and jungwon can’t believe his ears. his breath got caught in his throat. you didn’t have to specify what you meant by ‘this’. it was obvious, you both acknowledged the growing tension between the two of you.

he felt like a deer in headlights. “are you serious?” he asks, because he feels like you’re joking. he is waiting for you to laugh at him, to point his expression, just say something, anything.

but you don’t, you just nod, rubbing salt into the wound. and when it couldn’t get worse, it did. you turned away and walked away. just walked away. the ache in his chest spread all over.

jungwon felt devastated. after everything — you just turn away from him? he wants to cry, to break down, but doesn’t find any strength in himself to do so.

he just watches your figure slowly disappear when you walk towards the direction of your home.

you cried the whole evening.

when you just got home, you broke down, disturbing everyone present. your mom looked so heartbroken at the sight of her daughter in such misery. and she couldn’t do anything but give you a comforting hug and offer your favorite tea, which was enough.

your dad decided to give you space, which you were grateful for. you didn’t know what to do and what to think. you just…had no idea.

even your older brother gave you some space by not teasing you for your tears, feeling that it was something serious.

when you went up to your room, you dropped your bag, which resulted in a loud noise, but you paid no mind to it, you just wanted to cry.

not bothering to change out of your school uniform, you collapsed onto your bed. the dampness of your pillowcase only reminded you the reason why you were crying.

jungwon.

the way he looked so hopeful, but so doubtful at the same time. visions of him only strengthened the flow of your emotions.

you want to apologize, to call him, to confess in everything you felt, how he made your heart race, or how you couldn’t think straight way back when you two met at the photobooth.

and then you remember minju. how happy she looked, like she was released from the heaviest load. or how she looked when she admitted her feelings, how much stress she buried within herself.

all these overwhelming feelings made you tremble. your fingers curled into the fabric of your jacket, gripping it so it could somehow steady you, like it could calm down the storm in your mind. you tried to take a deep breath, but it only made everything worse—you could smell the scent of cinnamon of your shampoo, the one that jungwon teased you for all the time.

you exhaled. shaky and unsteady.

why did it feel like this?

every time you though of him—his eyes searching yours in the sea of others, his smile with unforgettable dimples, that made you giggle too—it felt like a weight pressuring down on you. you squeezed your eyes shut in attempt to forget those memories, but they clung to you, like lyrics of the song you loved.

you had done the right thing.

then why was the pain so sharp?

monday was a dread. the start of the work week, the sudden change in the sleeping schedule and an overwhelming amount of tasks and responsibilities weighing over you.

but this week, it’s even worse. because this week, you had to face him again.

you still weren’t over the emotions that consumed you over the weekends, still feeling regret, melancholy and sorrow. and that showed in your academics. you had no energy to even talk, there’s no need to mention solving an equation at the board.

thanks to your good reputation, teachers decided to let you rest, that you needed. honestly, you wouldn’t have come to school, if not for the physics quiz, but there is one.

your friends—belle and gyuvin—seemed really worried, asking you numerous questions about your well being. you didn’t wanna explain, so you just said that you didn’t sleep well. an excuse that works all the time.

you felt bad for lying, but you felt that the moment his name will leave your lips, you would break down in tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself further, you saved yourself the trouble.

your look hasn’t changed at all when it was lunchtime. barely making your way to the cafeteria, dragging your legs across the floor. when you did arrive there, you felt overwhelmed, your mind clouded with scrabbled thoughts, and suddenly, it was getting harder to breathe.

trying to compose yourself, you get to your usual lunch table where everyone else were waiting. plumping yourself on the seat and greeting others, you pick on your food, having no appetite, even though you haven’t had breakfast in the morning.

all the words don’t make sense, whatever minju is telling you, it goes into one ear and leaves through the other, you can’t focus on anything.

the struggle to breathe came back. dropping your utensils, you grab your head, not being able to deal with all these noises. you could feel tears forming in your eyes, daring to roll down. the heartbeat went far away from normal.

this is not you, focus y/n

you try to tell yourself, but to no avail. you could feel like the control of your body slipped away from your grasp.

suddenly, there was a sharp sensation, someone is trying to wake you up, shaking you. its minju.

“y/n? y/n! Y/N?”

it is definitely her. her voice stands out from the crowd. you could finally see what’s happening around you, blurry, but good enough.

“follow me. inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale” minju repeated worryingly, imitating what she meant.

you did as she asked, inhale and exhale, and repeat.

feeling the warmth of the real world, you gasp, your hands quickly taking ahold of whatever first came into contact, which happened to be your best friend’s arms.

“y/n! are you alright? what happened?” all the eyes were on you, staring into your soul.

“i…don’t know, i juts lost myself for a second, i guess…”

“come with me, ill walk you to the nurses office” minju says and immediately brings you up, giving you no room to refuse.

having no choice, you follow her, hoping to get a little bit of silent time.

jungwon watched this unfold from few meters away.

the moment he saw you, tirelessly dragging yourself to your friends, he couldn’t tear away his gaze from you, not even the pain you brought stopped him. he just knew that something was wrong.

when the faint sound of chopsticks falling onto the table could be heart, he became tense, stopped eating himself.

the tears that formed at your eyes made his eyes widen, and his posture weird, like he wanted to stand up and come to you.

jungwon’s fingers twitched against the table, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, but he wanted to.

while he was in the internal conflict, his body moved up on its own, but not making more moves, like testing his limits, if he can hold himself back.

but his mind was too slow. his own cousin was already helping you, trying to snap you back into reality. he could feel his chest tighten at the sight.

was it jealousy? was it sorrow? maybe both? jungwon didn’t know, only you were on his mind.

how he hates to see you in pain and how you pained him. the contrast was overwhelming, but before he could even decide what to do, you were walking away, in the arms of minju.

what was he supposed to do? was he supposed to do anything? questions filled his mind.

he didn’t even notice how he sat back, his mind being too clouded.

jungwon hopes he will have a chance to know if you’re well.

the moment you lied down on the bed in the nurses office —you fell into a deep slumber, having no worry in the world, it might have seemed like that, but it was actually the opposite. the overwhelming amount of things that clouded your mind made you pass out.

to be frank, the sleep was nice. but the sound of someone calling your name disturbed it.

and just like that, you were woken up and met with the face of your own mom.

she sweetly said: “sweetie, i’m here to pick you up. your homeroom teacher told me what happened. are you okay?”

“im fine now. what time is it?” you answer her, scratching your head, ignoring the mess that formed there.

she looked at her watch and looked back at you. “2:30, you won’t miss much, don’t worry”

“alright, should we go now?” you stand up on your feet, holding her hand.

your mother just nodded at you, saying goodbye to the nurse.

when she finished filling out the form, she took ahold of your shoulders, as to steady you.

“im alright mom, i wont fall”

“better be safe than sorry” she said softly, but worry was evident in her voice.

“if that makes you feel better”

as you both sat down in the car, the feeling of drowsiness appeared again. the drive to your house was not short, so you decided to sleep for a bit. your mind was clear as day, like it was washed, which is so unusual for you, especially in the past few days.

when you arrive at the house, you decided to check your phone, several messages appeared, some from social media, some from other stuff, and a lot from the specific group chat.

it was your friend group chat — and multiple messages made it clear that you made them worry a lot.

minju: y/n pls text when you’re feeling better :(

belle: yes! and don’t forget to drink lots of water and rest a bunch TT

taesan: belle is right, you should rest. don’t come to school tmrw

gyuvin: you made us worried bro 😭 don’t scare us like that the next time

smiling at their care, you quickly type a response.

you: sorry everyone! thank you for all the support, and i don’t think ill come tmrw either TT

you: im alright now tho, just gonna rest a lot lol

a few bubbles appear immediately, wishing you a good rest, and saying that you should take better care of yourself.

you reacted to their messages, silently promising that you will do as they said.

putting your phone on the charger, you change into more comfortable clothes and go back to your bed, ready to make up for missing sleep the past week.

tuesday, you, as promised, didn't show up. minju was glad that you let yourself rest, even if it’s just for a day. she was worried about you after all, it wasn't like you to have a panic attack in the middle of lunch.

it was boring though. usually, you’re the one who agrees with minju, the one who would listen to her. it’s not like the others won’t, but it just wasn’t the same.

“whatever,” minju thought. “at least i leave early today”

today was some kind of a family event at her house, her mom loved inviting guests over. jungwon will be there too. minju didn't feel anger as she usually does, talking with you helped a lot more than she thought.

after the fourth period, right before lunch, minju was already packing her bag. as she walked to the gates, she noticed a familiar figure waiting there.

“jungwon?” minju asked, when she was close enough.

the said boy turned around to face her, he didn't seem surprised though, like he was waiting for her.

“oh, hey. my mom will be here soon”

“huh? auntie is picking me up?” minju was surprised to hear that, as she wasn’t notified of this.

jungwon looked at her weirdly, raising one of his brows. “yea? pretty sure, your mom texted you about this.”

minju immediately checked her phone—taking it from her pocket—and jungwon was right. there was a message from her mother that minju will be picked up from school.

“oh.”

awkwardness filled the air; it was weird, the two of them got along just well, playfully bantering, but supporting each other when needed.

“are you alright? you seem pretty out of it” minju broke the silence, genuinely worried for his well-being.

“huh? oh yeah, just fine” he replied, his words trailing off into something barely audible.. “um,” jungwon hesitated.

“is y/n good…?” the question was asked impulsively, jungwon was surprised himself.

minju looked at him weirdly. “yes, she is. why do you care?” the previous awkwardness shifted into something more sharp and stern. friendliness slowly disappearing.

“i guess, i was worried. looked like she was having a hard time yesterday.” he didn't mind minju’s tone, like it was normal for her, which it kinda was.

their one-sided tension was interrupted by the sound of a car honk. it was jungwon’s mom.

“hey, you two! get in! we’re already late!”

the two teenagers looked in her direction and sprinted off to the vehicle. both of them got into the backseat, on the opposite sides. while minju was talking with her auntie, jungwon decided to wear his headphones and tune into his world of music.

when they arrived to park household, minju and miss yang went to the kitchen to help minju’s mom, while jungwon went upstairs to minju’s room.

“you can go to my room” he recalls her saying.

as he walks in, jungwon is met with a splash of sky blue. her bed is made, with different jellycats on top of it, near it, minju’s desk stands, different makeup tools and school stuff lay on it. but jungwon’s attention goes to the board above her desk. different polaroids and photobooth photos are there, but his gaze is fixed on only one.

three photos with you and minju. you look exactly the same as the day when he first met you. the same sweater, hairstyle and lipgloss.

jungwon’s eyes widened. he doesn't know why. he is aware that you’re best friends with his cousin, so why did his chest tighten?

he still likes you.

that’s right. he still does. even after you said that you gave to stop seeing each other, his feelings still lingered.

“hey jungwon, you should go downst-”

minju stopped in her tracks when she sees her cousin staring at her board with pictures. her eyes immediately landed on what he's staring at—those pictures.

“oh, yeah, lets g-” he didn’t have time to finish his sentence as the sudden door slam scared him.

“what’s up with you? first you ask about y/n, and now you’re staring at her photos? didn't i tell you to stop whatever you're planning?” annoyance was evident in minju’s voice. she hated the fact that jungwon looked like he cared about you, minju knew he didn’t, she hoped he didn’t.

jungwon's chest tightened, his hands formed fists as a habit whenever anyone raised their voice at him.

"what are you talking about?" his voice was quite, but sharp.

minju scoffed at his ignorance. “don't play dumb, jungwon. you know exactly what im talking about. its y/n”

his jaw clenched. the sound of her name felt like a hit in the ribs. “what? i can't ask if she’s okay now?” he tried to play it cool, he didn't want to show his vulnerability.

minju let out a dry laugh. “you don’t get to pretend like you care.”

jungwon couldn’t believe what was he hearing now, he can’t back down now, that’s for sure. “you think i was, am pretending this whole time?”

minju was stubborn, her knuckles turned white. “then explain, why did she stop talking to you, huh? if you truly cared for her, then she wouldn’t walk away, right?”

jungwon flinched. his heart rate picked up and his fingers curled tighter into his palms.

he has been asking himself the exact same thing.

he sharply exhaled, forcing his voice to stay steady. “how about you tell me?”

minju froze, her eyes widened, her hands relaxed.

her reaction wasn’t unnoticed by jungwon. that’s when the realization hit him.

“so it was you? you told her to do it” his gaze locked on hers—piercing, demanding to confess.

“yea, so? it was the best choice for her” minju snapped, but quickly quieted down, as she started to pick ner nails. nervousness took a hold of her.

jungwon let out another exhale. “you cannot be serious now” he took a step closer. “who are you to decide what’s best for her?”

minju was triggered, she was everything he wasn’t to you. “i am her best friend, who are you to decide that you’re the one who she needs?”

“are you calling yourself her best friend when you can’t even see and value her feelings?”

“I-” minju had no words. he was right, she made you stop talking with him out of her selfishness. she wanted to keep you for herself. she didn’t want jungwon to take you from her. she didn’t want that to happen again.

“yeah, exactly.” he looked at her for one last time before rushing to the front door. he needed some fresh air.

“jungwon? where are you going?” “to the shop, i'll be quick!”

minju could hear voices downstairs, she was completely frozen. she was slapped with realization that she had no right to decide what’s best for you. even if she just wanted you to be happy.

tears formed in her eyes, silently running down her cheeks. minju leaned against her door and plumped on the ground, sobbing inaudibly.

she can’t just do nothing now. she was proven wrong. she hurt two of her closest people. the guilt was eating her alive.

minju stood up and sprinted to the front door, shouting “i’ll be right back!” ignoring the yell from her mom, she had no time, she had to apologize to you.

it’s a 15 minute walk from her house to yours, but she made it in 7. she started ringing your doorbell, even when she was still catching her breath.

“minju? what’s up- what happened?” you opened the door just to be met with your best friend breathing profusely, her face slightly puffy. from the looks of it, she looks like she cried. “did you cry? are you alright?”

when minju calmed down and was able to breath properly, she looked at you straight into the eyes.

“y/n, i-i am sorry. i’m so sorry.” she started apologizing, for what? you had no idea.

your brows furrowed. “huh? minju, why are you apologizing?”

her hands clenched at her sides. she looked like she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

you had never seen her like this before—so frustrated with herself, so shaken.

she swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. “i’m so sorry y/n, it was me”

you were still dumbfounded. “what?”

minju’s voice cracked, but she kept going. “i was the one who made you stop talking with jungwon” she exhaled sharply. “i thought it would be for the best, but it wasn’t. i acted on impulse and because i was selfish. i thought if you and jungwon got close, you wouldn’t need me anymore. i didn’t want you to talk to him because of that, but i never asked you how you felt, and i guess you really like him, maybe i knew it the whole time, but didn’t want to indulge into the thought that i was in the wrong, but it doesn’t matter” she rambled before making a quick pause.

minju’s eyes were glistening again, her voice barely above whisper. “i hurt you both with my actions, and i want to apologize.” she wiped her eyes harshly.

minju took a deep breath and stepped closer, bowing almost 90 degrees. “i know i don’t deserve it-” her voice was raw with emotions. “can you forgive me?”

you listened to all her ramblings, trying to catch everything. and when you did, your mind went blank.

you had tried to justify what you did—tried to convince yourself it was for the best. but now, hearing minju say it out loud, admitting her mistakes, the truth weighed heavier than you had imagined. a moment of silence has passed before you broke it off.

“minju, i forgive you” you replied to her apology. “i understand how you felt, and i guess it was wrong to just randomly start talking with your relative.”

minju stood straight and grabbed your shoulders. “no! it was entirely my fault! i have no right of controlling who you decide to talk to.”

you placed your hands on her own. “i never knew you felt that way. i’m sorry for not noticing.” you bitterly smiled, feeling guilty.

minju hugged you, shuffling her head into your neck. you instinctively hugger her back, her tears dampening your shirt.

“come on, i’ll make you some tea”

you had spent an hour or two calming minju down.

she kept apologizing even after you told her you forgive her.

you listened to her worried and reasons behind her actions, and you never knew that she felt like this.

“you should confess to him, you know?” minju suddenly said, making you almost spit out your tea.

“huh? who said i liked him?” you looked around, like searching for the guilty one.

“it is pretty obvious. you never get flustered around anyone. the only time i remember was back in 8th grade.” she put her head into her head. “was his name jongseob, or something? you liked him a lot” minju reminded you of an old crush, which made you more embarrassed.

“ugh, stop, it’s embarrassing.” you lightly hit her. “i don’t think jungwon even wants to see me now. not after i said all that stuff to him.” tearing your gaze away from her, you looked around.

“you’re kidding. he literally asked me only about you today. ‘is y/n okay?’ ‘is she doing alright’ blah blah blah” she exaggerated even more by showing talking signs with her hands.

you quietly laughed at her antics. “i don’t know. i think he doesn’t want to see me”

“if there’s anyone he doesn’t want to see, it’s me, i promise you” she breathed out. “we got into a fight which resulted in me coming here.”

you looked at her with pity. “sorry, i guess, i am the reason behind it”

“stop. don’t blame yourself. it was all me.” minju looked at you sternly.

“sorry-“ you couldn’t hold yourself.

“stop apologizing! you should fix that habit of yours, it starts to get annoying”

you laughed lightly at her, almost apologizing again.

when minju came back home, everyone was gone. her place was filled with silence.

“oh, minju, where were you? you missed everything” her mothers voice filled the air.

“sorry, i had to do something urgent. has everyone left already?” she quickly made her way to the living room, where her dad was napping and her mom was watching the TV.

“yes, about half an hour ago. did you and jungwon had a fight? he looked pretty sad.”

“uh, yeah, it was my fault. i’ll apologize to him soon, don’t worry” minju felt guilty at the mention of her cousins name.

“i hope so, he looked miserable. you two always got along well too” her mom sighed, “go to sleep, you have school tomorrow”

“alright, good night” minju said as she went upstairs.

“good night!”

the next day, you didn’t have any trouble with breathing nor steadying yourself. you were just nervous. in the morning, minju pulled you aside, telling you that you need to confess to jungwon today.

after that, your focus was shifted to something else. how will he react after seeing you? to you confessing? will he reciprocate? will he reject you? all kinds of thoughts filled your mind up until lunch.

you wanted to look for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. when you felt his presence near, you quietly turned your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.

kathump.

the feeling in your chest was back. your heart rate sped up again.

a light hit made you snap back, it was minju, she wore a teasing smile that literally said “i told you so”

your mind went back to that interaction the rest of the day. you couldn’t stop thinking about it. but when it was the time to talk to him, you were ready to go straight home.

you were scared. when minju noticed your hesitance, she slightly pushed you.

“your prince charming is waiting, look” she pointed at the direction where jungwon stood.

when you turned to look at your best friend, she was already leaving, mouthing you a good luck.

oh you needed it.

as minju disappeared from your view, you looked back at jungwon.

there he was. hands in pockets, standing tall.

you decided to take one step. and you already felt dizzy.

it’s okay. you can do it.

you quietly said to yourself. you swallowed hard. every step towards him felt heavier, like your legs didn’t want to move.

but you that you had to, that you wanted to.

as you were almost there, he looked at you. jungwon just stood there and watched your approach him. even though his hands were barely visible, you swear his fingers twitched—like he was holding himself back from walking to you.

you stoped in front of him.

silence.

the weight of everything crashed down at once .

“I-“ you started, but didn’t know how to finish. you just stared at him.

and he stared at you back. he blinked at you—his expression unreadable, but his eyes, they were curious, like they were searching for the reason you came up to him.

you turned your gaze to the ground below you, unable to stand under the pressure of his eyes. fingers finding the straps of your jacket.

“jungwon, i-“ you took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to look at him again. “i’m sorry.”

his face flickered with surprise. “for what?”

“for-“ your throat tightened like your grip on your jacket. “for pushing you away. for saying things i didn’t mean. for not asking how you feel. for-“

you exhaled.

“i miss you”

the words made their way out before you could stop them. your feelings summarized in three words. you just missed him.

jungwon froze.

he fixed his posture, continued to look at you, waited for you to continue.

your hands let go of your jacket and balled into fists. “i like you, jungwon” you made a slight pause. “i truly do, i don’t know how and when it started, but-“ you let out a shaky laugh, shaking your head.

“i just know because when i’m not around you, everything feels wrong”

jungwon was still staring, like a deer in headlights, but then, in a second—

his hands weren’t in his pockets anymore, they were on your face.

your breath hitched. you could feel the warmth, both from his hands and your fluster.

his fingertips, warm and gentle, carefully traced over your cheeks-like you weren’t real, like you could disappear in a millisecond.

his voice was barely audible. “are you serious?”

you nodded. “i am”

a small, breathless laugh escapes him.

and then-

he kissed you.

the warmth of his lips connected with yours.

your eyes widened, but you quickly adjusted, closing them, your hands made their way to his shoulders.

when his lips started moving, you couldn’t help but reciprocate. it just felt right.

you kissed each other just right. it felt wonderful.

the lack of air made you pull away first, but jungwon quickly kissed you again.

and when he did pull away, he smiled.

you saw the smile that you adored, the cutest dimples made their way back on his face.

jungwon hugged you, pulling you close by your waist. “i like you too,” he whispered into your ear. “i always wanted to say that.”

you hugged him back and lightly laughed. “so, can i be your girlfriend?” you asked him.

“i’d love that” jungwon replied, stuffing his head deeper into your hair.

you and your boyfriend lied in your room, enjoying each other’s company.

arctic monkeys’ ‘AM’ album playing in the background. and it’s all you could ever ask for.

“still can’t believe minju was the one who promoted you confess” jungwon suddenly said as he played with your hair.

“if it wasn’t for her, i’d never look at your direction again, honestly. you should thank her” looking back at him, you enlightened him.

“nah, we’re even.” he joked. “i’m glad she apologized tho, unexpected from her.”

“stop making her sound like a villain!” you hit him, but you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “she’s the one who made me go to that photobooth.”

jungwon held you tighter, kissing your cheek. “whatever, i have you now. the others don’t matter.”

at that you could only hum, closing your eyes.

as fluorescent adolescent—your favorite song—started playing, you drifted into slumber in your boyfriends arms.

#read it so many times i started to hate it lol #a month and a half #that’s crazy #super cool works #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #yang jungwon #enha jungwon #yang jungwon smau #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon angst #jungwon angst #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #fluff #angst

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soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.”

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?”

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door.

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega.

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know.

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door.

It’s going to be a long week.

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent.

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller.

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged.

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat.

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much.

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things.

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?”

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.”

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.”

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?”

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.”

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks.

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom.

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom.

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.”

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.”

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.”

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert.

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up.

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort.

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room.

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega.

Their omega.

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient.

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right.

Maybe they did need you after all.

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water.

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while.

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back.

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.”

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?”

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.”

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.”

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both.

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?”

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room.

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest.

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips.

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back.

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain.

You went into heat.

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark.

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over.

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs.

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears.

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week.

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort.

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this.

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence.

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?”

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb.

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.”

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure.

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.”

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks.

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.”

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.”

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done.

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.”

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all.

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him.

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.”

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could.

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks.

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again.

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks.

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame.

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days.

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?”

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.”

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall.

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw.

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside.

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.”

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent.

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases.

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through.

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in.

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-”

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.”

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.”

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh.

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.”

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still.

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-”

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face.

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.”

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it.

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta.

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.”

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees.

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha.

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.”

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it.

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says.

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s.

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks.

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole.

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass.

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.”

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.”

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either.

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before.

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets.

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again.

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again.

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.”

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.”

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank.

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again.

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further.

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.”

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise.

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more.

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!”

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is.

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!”

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done.

They’re both in for a long night.

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #x reader #captain price x reader #John price x reader #gaz x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #soap x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #Omegaverse

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andvys · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter three ⭐︎ So if you need to be mean, be mean to me

Warnings: angst angst angst! mean!Steve, bitchy!reader, slight allusions to unrequited love, mentions of Vecna and the upside down, argument, Steve being a dick to reader. and before anyone comes at me with the 'but your Steve is so ooc! he isn't mean anymore' this is a fic, this is enemies to lovers, you see the mean!Steve warnings, you know what you're getting yourself into.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve had buried his past self, King Steve was dead, but all it took was a little push for him to make a small appearance again, to rain nothing but chaos upon his already weak 'friendship' with you. You pushed him, and you did it a little too hard.

Word count: 5k+

Author's note: Big big biggest shoutout to my bestie @hellfire--cult for helping me and writing those evil evil lines, you're the best

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

He regrets waking up that day.

He regrets saying yes to Robin and the kids to hang out.

He regrets picking up Max’s phone call.

If he wouldn’t have done any of these things, he wouldn’t be where he is right now.

Parked in front of your house so he can drive you both to Robin’s.

It’s been a week since the day at his place, a week since you had stormed out of his house, a week since he had last seen you. It almost feels weird. He can’t even remember the last time he had gone without seeing you this long. If you’re not hanging out with the group, he sees you going into the coffee shop across from Family Video every afternoon. Sometimes you even run into each other at Bradley’s Big Buy, but since last Saturday, he hasn’t seen you anywhere – it’s almost as though you had disappeared. Maybe he would have worried if it wasn’t for Max and El gushing over your shopping trip to Indianapolis the other day, he panicked when they told him that, thinking that you were driving again when you still weren’t allowed to, but El had calmed him down, telling him that you used the train.

With a sigh, he gets out of the car. He runs his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. He rings the doorbell and takes a step back, staring at the wooden door.

How will you even react to seeing him here?

You’re surely expecting Eddie, not him.

The door opens after a moment, revealing you on the other side, looking as beautiful as always – unfortunately. You’re wearing a white top, the soft pink stripes matching the color of your glossy lips, your skin looking soft and glowy as the sun shines into your house, the fading bruises are almost all gone, finally. The scent of your perfume, something sweet and flowery invades his space, and he can’t help but inhale it, feeling warmth blooming in his chest.

He takes you in, the way you look beneath the sun rays, the way your dainty necklace lies so prettily on your chest, the way your lashes touch your skin as you blink at him.

The smile on your face instantly fades away when you lock eyes with him, the usual grumpy frown takes over instead, that pulls him back into reality.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Yeah, you’re only pretty and cute when you keep your mouth shut.

He clenches his jaw, trying not to show how annoyed he is already.

“Picking you up.”

You furrow your brows at him, “what? Where’s Eddie?”

“He forgot about his Doctor’s appointment, he had to rush out. Max called me and told me to pick you up.”

“Oh,” you nod and you stare at him for a long moment before a smile appears on your face, “she told you, huh?”

Caught off guard by the smile on your face, he stays quiet, only nodding at your words.

You chuckle to yourself, turning away from him to pick up your jacket and your keys. Surprising him by not fighting him, you step out of the house and close the door. You look him up and down, eying the keys in his hand.

“Can I drive your car?” You ask, tilting your head, “I promise I’ll take better care of it than you ever could.”

He snorts at your words, looking at you with an expression that almost makes you laugh.

“With that head injury? Yeah, not a fucking chance, Blondie.”

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, already making your way over to his car.

“It’s been like what… a month? I’m all healed, I’m feeling peachy.”

“A month and you still get dizzy and don’t even lie about it.”

Once again, you keep quiet instead of throwing a smartass remark back, it makes him furrow his brows at you. Instead of opening the door, he leans his elbow on the roof of his car, looking over at you curiously.

You open the door and put one foot in before you halt when you notice him staring.

“What?”

“Did you fall on your head or something?”

You shake your head at him, scrunching your face up.

“You’re not fighting me, are you feeling okay?” He smirks.

Scoffing at his words, you flip him off before you get into the car without a single word.

He taps his fingers against the car, looking up at the blue sky with a smirk that turns into a content smile, he thought the bickering would start the moment you opened that door. Maybe today won’t be so bad.

Though when he gets into his car and he glances at you, you’re already staring back at him with that certain look in your eyes, the one that tells him everything he needs to know. Your eyes are glimmering with that smugness, the one that’s always there when you’re about to tease him with something that you know will annoy him.

“Is Nancy gonna be there?”

“Huh?”

You blink at him innocently as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Nancy, is she gonna be there? You know, since you only get the chance to be around her during these group hangouts,” you smirk.

He squints his eyes at you, biting back the bitter words that he was about to throw at you. He turns away and starts the car.

He backs out of your driveway and without a single word, he starts driving.

“Must suck being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same, huh?”

He stares at the road ahead, blankly. He could swear there was a hint of hurt in your voice. He doesn’t look at you, despite feeling your eyes on him, he doesn’t look and only grips the steering wheel tighter.

“But what would I know,” you snort and he hears you leaning back in the seat, the leather squeaking a little as you try to get more comfortable.

Yeah, what would you know? He thinks.

You’re cold and you’re mean – he is certain that there’s not a single trace of love in your heart. How you care that deeply for Max will always remain a mystery to him.

��Are you a grandpa or something or where is the music!?”

“You make enough music for us.”

He turns to you for a brief second, to see you scrunching up your face at him, shaking your head in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lego head?”

“Your yapping and whining is enough for me.”

“Oh, so you’re saying my yapping and whining is music to your ears?” You smirk. “Just say that you love hearing my voice.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs, glaring at you. He clenches his jaw and flicks the button to turn on the music.

Material Girl by Madonna starts playing and he instantly feels his heart dropping, his cheeks start glowing red – at least, that’s what it feels like. He grows flustered underneath your stare the moment you start laughing.

“Oh wow, I knew you were a girly girl, Harrington.”

He changes the song, calming down when some Duran Duran song starts playing instead, but you are still laughing, and he can only groan in annoyance, pointing his finger at you, “shut up, Blondie.”

Your face only grows more amused, and this is where the teasing begins and the drive to Robin’s house becomes a torture for him and he practically starts counting down the second till he can finally get out of the car that he usually loves being in.

He bites his tongue, not saying a single word while you yap away the way you always do.

What a fool he was for thinking that this day could have been good, you manage to ruin every day of his.

He can only stay quiet for so long.

“Do you ever shut up or do I have to make you!?”

That seems to shut you up. At least, for a moment. When he glances at you with angry eyes, he notices the smug look on your face that still didn’t stray away from you, not even after his words.

“And how would you do that?” You ask, mockingly.

He stares at your lips for a moment, clenching his jaw and gripping the gear stick tightly. He looks away as he turns left, pulling up in Robin’s driveway, he parks the car.

“I have an idea or two,” he mumbles and gets out before you can question him. He almost thinks that his words have stunned you, when you take a moment longer to get out of the car, but when you do and your eyes meet his, you smirk again.

He starts walking backwards, taking in the sight of you as you walk towards him. Your jeans hug your hips and your legs so perfectly that he begins to hate them. He almost feels ashamed for wanting to see them from the back. His eyes move up to your top, without intending to stare at your cleavage but he does.. and fuck, he hates how attracted his body is to you.

“So cocky and for what?” You chuckle as you brush past him, not noticing his staring.

Steve’s cheeks are red, his eyes instantly fall down to your butt when he turns around to follow you onto the porch. You move your hips and he has to clench his jaw.

It’s really a shame that he can’t stand you.

You ring the doorbell and patiently wait for Robin to open, you don’t spare him a glance, you don’t even turn around to tease him any further, he doesn’t mind it though, it gives him the chance to keep looking at you. Your skin looks soft and he sometimes catches himself wondering what it would feel like to touch you, it’s glowing and he can’t help but ask himself whether it’s because of the body cream that you put on or if it’s just this pretty on it’s own – not that he ever imagines you putting lotion on your body after a shower, definitely not.

“Oh great, you didn’t kill each other!” Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

Robin grabs your hand and pulls you into her house, only throwing a glance over her shoulder at him, “come on in Dingus, you know the way.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he walks in, watching the way his best friend pays more attention to you than to him. Not only did you nestle your way into his friend group, you had also seemingly nestled your way into Robin’s heart. He watches the friendship between you slowly blossoming and he can’t help but feel jealous of that.

He stays back in the hallway for a moment, preparing for a long evening with you.

He hears Robin talking your ear off already, Max and Lucas are in the kitchen too. But no one else is around. Nancy and Jonathan are on a date, he knows that, Jonathan gushed about it to Argyle before he left the other day and Steve couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he heard them talking about Nancy. The other teens are off doing god knows what. So much for the weekly group hangouts.

He hears your laughter and he can’t help but roll his eyes. It’s not the kind of laugh that he ever gets, no, whenever you laugh with or at him, it’s like you’re mocking him or making fun of him – not that he cares, he does the same to you. It’s your thing.

But for some reason it bothers him to hear and see you laughing like this with the others.

You get along with Robin, you get along with Eddie, you get along with the teens – hell, you even get along with Nancy even though you glared daggers at each other that day at skull rock.

With him, you’re either grumpy and rude or you’re just a snappy smug brat – which seems to be the case today.

Steve walks into the kitchen, putting on a smile to greet Max and Lucas with.

“Hey,” Max mumbles grumpily, only shooting him a brief and very forced smile before she goes back to her deep conversation with you.

Another grump, he thinks to himself. It’s not a surprise that the snappy teen likes you so much, you’re both the same person.

Lucas greets him with a handshake and a friendly smile, something that two of the three girls in this room should learn.

“Are you coming to my game next friday?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nods.

“You can bring her,” Lucas wiggles his brows at him, gesturing to you with a wink, “as a date,” he whispers.

Steve scrunches his face up, as though he is disgusted by the thought of it – like he wasn’t just checking you out on the porch.

“You’re joking, right?” He mumbles as he looks over Lucas’s shoulder, glancing at you.

“No,” Lucas crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head, “you are awfully mean to her, which means that you must like her.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he looks over at you again, in sheer panic, hoping that you didn’t just hear the ridiculous words that have left Lucas’s mouth. You’re too distracted by whatever story Max is telling you though, looking back and forth between her and Robin.

He looks back at Lucas to see him staring smugly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t that what you said to Dustin when he asked you for girls advice?” He snorts, shaking his head once again, “‘the key with girls is acting like you don’t care’” Lucas mocks quietly, chuckling after that.

Steve sighs, putting his hand on his hip, “he told you that?”

Lucas leans closer, “he sure did,” he smirks as he turns his head to glance at you before her turns back around, “I remembered it the other day, and it had me thinking–”

“Alright,” Steve interrupts him, he places his hands on his shoulders, “stop that, Sinclair.”

Lucas laughs, eying the flustered look on Steve’s face, who shoots him another glare before he steps away. He clears his throat, looking at the kitchen island where Robin had already prepared all the snacks.

He grabs two bowls, glancing back at Lucas, “help me carry the snacks over to the living room, man. These ladies are too busy gossiping,” he says, expecting you to turn around and throw a comment back at him, but you don’t.

Robin squints her eyes, nodding at him, “don’t give us the sass, Dingus.”

Lucas chuckles at her, he walks over to the kitchen island, reaching for the bowl of sour gummies and the M&M’s, “when is Steve ever not sassy?”

At that, you finally turn to face them, a smirk tugging at your lips, you don’t have to say anything to show him that you agree with Lucas.

He only rolls his eyes at you, no further words needed as he leaves the kitchen, stepping into the living room with Lucas trailing behind.

“Wow, you didn’t even say anything to her.”

Steve has to roll his eyes again, the teasing in his voice isn’t very subtle. He opens his mouth to speak when the doorbell rings and Lucas rushes out of the room before he can even move or say anything.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Lucas says after opening the front door.

“Found him on the side of the road.” Steve hears Eddie’s voice.

“Oh you two are such jokesters. You think I’d miss out on game night?” Dustin’s voice sounds through the hallway. “What are we even playing?”

Robin replies enthusiastically as she walks into the living room with Dustin by her side and Eddie tagging along, greeting Steve with a grin.

“Oh boy, the board’s definitely getting flipped today,” Dustin laughs.

Steve raises his brows, “you mean you will flip the board?”

Dustin tilts his head as he looks at his older friend, his smile turning into a playful frown, “hello to you too, Steve.”

“Henderson.”

Dustin claims the loveseat before anyone else can, slumping down with a grin on his face, he reaches for one of the sour gummies in the bowl.

“What’s wrong? Did your phone date not go so well with your girlfriend?” Steve teases.

“At least I have a girlfriend,” Dustin winks at him.

As you walk into the room, Lucas faces Steve again, with a teasing grin, “what do you mean, he’s got one too, she’s right there.”

Dustin gives him a funny look before he turns around with furrowed eyebrows, confusion flashing in his eyes before they widen and he turns back to look at a very unimpressed Steve.

“What!? You two are dating?” He shrieks loud enough for you to freeze in your spot.

Steve closes his eyes, shaking his head at him.

“Huh?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Dustin, “Henderson, I think that Sinclair might have a little too much imagination over there.”

Lucas only shrugs, still grinning.

“You’re playing matchmaker with the wrong people,” Robin laughs, looking between you and Steve.

“Absolutely,” Eddie chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to her.

“Can we just play the game now?” You ask as both you and Max sit down on the ground in front of the board game that Robin had already put out.

“Ooh, we’re playing Ludo?” Dustin asks.

Everyone nods, everyone except for Robin.

“What?” She chuckles, cupping her cheek as she looks around, “that’s Wahoo.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, “Wahoo?”

“That’s what the game is called,” Robin says, pointing to the board.

Steve watches the way you shake your head in confusion, slightly pouting as you stare at her. Fuck… you almost look cute.

As Eddie reaches for the dice, he throws it up in the air, catching it between two fingers, “this game is called Sorry! my friends,” he smirks, cockily. “We only need four players so who goes first?”

Lucas, who starts scarving down the snacks, waves a hand at Eddie, “I’ll sit this round out,” he says with a mouthful of chips.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth!” Max rolls her eyes at him.

“Red, Dustin, Robin and Steve go first,” Eddie says. “The master has spoken, now let the games begin,” he says in his deep voice.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, “this isn’t D&D dude, we don’t need a master.”

“Still.”

“Okay!” Robin claps her hands together, “let’s play!”

And as the game started, everyone laughed, everyone was having fun, everyone was joking around, it was all lighthearted. Dustin was throwing tantrums in his team with Robin, while Eddie snickered. Robin was a loser, and she accepted that she sucked at this game, competing against a bunch of stubborn teens. She was the first to sit out and stop playing. Max and Lucas preferred to stay out after the first few rounds, amused by watching the gameplay.

And then, Steve and you were outright competing as if it were a championship. Neither of you even noticed that it was only you two left, everyone else stopped playing a while ago, watching this intense competition instead.

While you took it all with ease, teasing him with a few jabs here and there whenever he was losing against you, Steve took it all a little more seriously. Because the moment he lost against you more than once, the anger in him started rising – not because of the game, but because of the looks you were giving him, those smug and cocky looks, the comments that weren’t even that bad – but everything, everything about you was pissing him off this day.

Your attitude this morning, your comments, your jabs, your arrogance, you’ve been getting on his nerves from the moment you got into his car.

And right now, he can feel his chest heaving, burning in anger and frustration.

His jaw is clenched, his eyes are hurting from the intense glares that you start giving each other.

Neither of you feel the eyes of the others on you two, the nervous glances, the warning ones because everyone knows what will follow after this.

You both want to win against the other so desperately and currently, it’s a tie between the two of you. He won three rounds, you won three rounds – this apparently will be the last one, this one will decide who will win this very meaningless, stupid game.

But Robin can’t take it any longer, she can’t keep watching the two of you getting angrier each passing second, knowing that this round will only lead to another, and both you and Steve could sit here all night, because you are both stubborn brats when it comes to each other – as it seems.

“Okay!” Robin throws her hands up, snatching the dice from Steve’s hand that he was just about to throw, “can you two stop? It’s a tie, move on!”

You and Steve look away from one another, raising your heads to look at Robin who glares at the two of you.

“We’ll finish and then we’re done!”

Steve groans at your words.

“No!” Robin shakes her head, “because one will win and the other won’t, and then it’s a fucking mess, so stop playing! You fought interdimensional monsters together, for fucks sake!”

“Right, that doesn’t mean anything.” Steve rolls his eyes before he looks back at you, only to see your face fall.

He almost feels guilty. You risked your life out there, not only for Max and Lucas but also for him.

“That doesn’t mean anything!? Well aren’t you fucking grateful, Harrington.”

“Everyone fought, not just you, don’t think you’re all high and mighty,” he mumbles through the anger that he is still feeling.

A part of him is begging to just move on and keep his mouth shut, but he is frustrated, not just because of the game, but because of you, every small comment from you reminds him of how much he can’t stand you.

“Hey, hey, hey, break it up,” Eddie says as he gets up from the couch, raising his hands up as he takes in the hurt but angry look in your eyes.

You shake your head, “no, no, let him keep going! I want to hear what this bastard with his hero complex has to say to me.”

Eddie can see the way Steve is fuming, the way the anger in his eyes gets stronger and stronger. He stands up, moving closer to you as you get up as well.

“You fought with us once. Once! And you think that makes you equal to us!? You have no idea what we all went through, you have no idea the people we lost along the way, you know nothing!” He snaps at you, ignoring the way you draw back as your eyes fill with something he can’t read.

Max straightens up in her seat, already reaching for her crutches as her eyes widen, seeing the way your lips twitch as blink up at Steve.

“Steve, stop!”

If he wasn’t so angry, he would have heard the fear in Max’s voice, something that normally would’ve made him draw back in an instant.

You glance at her, shaking your head, yet again. “No, Max, it’s okay.” You turn back to face him, looking into his eyes coldly – that’s the only look he knows, that’s the one he cannot stand. “What does Steve Harrington know about loss!?”

Steve feels his gut twisting, he clenches his jaw but doesn’t answer your question, he keeps staring at you.

“What? Mom and Dad left you the whole house to yourself, and you consider that loss!?” You frown, lifting your arm, you gesture to the people in the room. “I see Robin alive, I see Eddie alive, I see all of the kids alive, so who exactly did you fucking lose, Harrington?”

Behind the anger and the emptiness in your eyes, is sadness and pain, something he can’t see through the haze that he is in, right now. All he sees is something, someone he hates, someone who acts like she knows everything, someone who does nothing but bring chaos and anger into his heart and into a friends group that is so sacred to him.

He never felt this angry before, not even when he found Nancy with Jonathan, not even when she cheated on him and left, not during a single fight with his dad, nothing had ever made him feel such rage.

“You are so fucking horrible!” He snaps at you, not caring about anything, right this second. Everyone in the room disappears, Dustin, Max and Lucas are no longer there, and neither are Robin and Eddie, it’s just you and him now. “I hate the fucking day we ran into you at Skull Rock! You are the most despicable and cold hearted bitch I’ve ever met! I would be surprised if you ever loved somebody!”

He can’t see the shock or the pain that nestles into your features.

He doesn’t even hear the gasps from the others in the room.

“Steve!” Max yells, reminding him of the fact that she is there, that everyone else is here too.

The girl almost falls over when she jumps up. Lucas stands up as well, steadying her before she can fall. They both look at you, both of them see the hurt in your eyes, the way you helplessly stare back at the guy that you risked your life for.

Robin and Eddie stare at him in disbelief, not knowing the Steve that they are looking at, right now.

All that Steve can see is red though.

“No, Mayfield, let me fucking finish because she needs to understand how terrible she is.” He practically spits in your face, not tearing his eyes away from yours, at all. “I-I mean, don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did – even more, I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all. You’re not someone easy to fucking love, Blondie. Trust me on that.”

And the moment those words fall from his lips, the room falls silent, dead silent. His heart stops racing and his skin runs cold. Suddenly, he is brought back into the room, the haze fleeting away more and more and he can now see clear again.

And as he looks at you, really looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach and every trace of anger is gone, replaced by a guilt he had never felt before.

Your eyes are filled with tears as you stare at him with nothing but pain, not a single trace of coldness in them, not a single trace of anger or indifference or even hate for the man in front of you. All he can see is pain, pain, pain.. Your tears are welling up more and more, threatening to spill down your cheeks. Your throat bobbed up and down, like you are trying to gulp down the ball of nerves and sobs threaten to fall from your lips.

For a split second, he can see through you and he sees something there never was before – something that tells him that you would let him do this, until he’d get enough of hurting you, that you would let him break you, little by little. But, he had enough.

You look down as your bottom lip starts to tremble.

As he sees that, Steve feels like the most horrible person on the planet. Worse than his dad, worse than the monsters he had fought, worse than Vecna.

What had prompted him to throw such awful and vile words at you?

The guilt that takes over almost feels unbearable and the moment he wants to take back those words, to apologize, you are already gone.

Lucas calls out to you, but the slamming of the front door is all he gets back.

Before Steve can even look around the room, his back is slammed against the nearest wall and he is met by the sight of an angry Eddie, his eyes darker than ever, nose flaring as he grips the collars of his polo, pressing him harshly against the wall.

“I would fucking punch you in the face right now, Harrington. Don’t forget who was the first person to jump into the water to save your ass!” He yells at him, giving him one final push that knocks the breath out of him before Eddie lets go and leaves to go after you.

Steve looks down, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Steve… what the fuck?” Dustin mumbles, softly, staring at his older friend in disappointment.

Robin looks around the room, before her eyes lock on Steve, she looks at him in confusion, not understanding where all of this came from.

“Dingus.. what the hell was that? Why did you–”

“Everyone leave the room.”

It’s Max’s voice that sounds through the room, awfully calm. So calm that it takes everyone aback.

Lucas stares at his girlfriend, completely confused.

All it takes is a single look from her though and he and Dustin scatter out of the room. Dustin pulls Robin along who protests at first but follows when she looks back at Max, who only shakes her head.

It’s silent for a long minute, and Steve doesn’t know what to feel.

“That was fucked up, Steve.” Max says.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the tears that threaten to build up.

Not only did he hurt you, something he never thought was even possible. He also showed his friends a side of him he wanted to keep buried. A side that surely makes them feel less safe around him now.

“I-I know, I don’t.. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Max purses her lips, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact.

“She may not have been with us from the start, hell, I wasn’t either. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t experience it just the same. She may not have fought monsters, Steve. But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.”

You fought monsters, you fought the bats off of him.

He snaps his head up, staring at her with a frown on his face.

“Max I–”

The redhead shakes her head, anger and disappointment still on her face.

“I’m not the one you have to apologize to. I will not tell you her story, I’m not allowed to do that. But you are wrong, you are terribly wrong about everything you just said about her.”

She reaches for her crutches, giving him one final look before she leaves the room.

He stares at the ground with a gnawing feeling in his chest, hating himself more and more as the seconds go by.

The look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his life.

How could he ruin everything in the span of a few minutes?

How could he not see the hurt in your eyes after only the first words that he threw at you?

How could he not see the vulnerable side of you?

How was he so blinded by the act you had put on?

He judged a book by its cover, just like King Steve had done in the past. There is no excuse. No fucking excuse for what he had done to you.

♡

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington #stranger things angst

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hereforuconnwbb · 1 month ago

Text

Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER FOUR

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

~paige plays for uconn and azzi plays for stanford~

word count: 11.7k

warning: language, suggestive content

i was supposed to publish this a few hours ago but as i was going over it my dumbass wasnt rlly making any sense and there were some mistakes (i probs still forgot some in there😓) so i had to cut some bits and add more stuff so that its adding up properly (im hoping it adds up now... 🤞🏽) but yurrrr heres chapter 4 😏

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

Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting lines across Azzi’s ceiling as she stared up, her mind stuck on last night. The teasing, the tension, the way Paige’s voice had dropped lower, her words making Azzi’s stomach flip. And then Caroline had walked in, snapping the moment in half before anything could actually happen.

Azzi groaned, throwing an arm over her face.

It wasn’t just what almost happened—it was how much she had wanted it to.

Her phone sat beside her on the bed, the screen dark, but she knew Paige usually texted her first thing in the morning. Normally, Azzi would check immediately, eager to see whatever dumb or teasing thing Paige had come up with. But this morning, she hesitated. She wasn’t sure where they stood after last night. Would it be weird? Would Paige brush past it like nothing happened?

Taking a slow breath, she finally grabbed her phone, unlocking it with her thumb. No messages.

Paige hadn’t texted.

Azzi exhaled, locking the screen and tossing it beside her. Maybe that was for the best.

—-----------------------

Across the country, Paige was lying in her dorm bed, staring at her phone. Still nothing from Azzi. She huffed, running a hand through her hair before rolling onto her stomach.

Was she supposed to say something first? Probably. But what? Good morning. Hope you slept well. By the way, you looked way too good in that tank top while teasing the hell out of me last night. Yeah, no.

She locked her phone and flipped onto her back, draping an arm over her eyes. The shift between them had been coming for a while, but now that it actually happened—now that they both knew—what were they supposed to do? Keep flirting until one of them finally cracked?

Minutes passed before she finally caved, unlocking her phone and typing out a message.

Paige: Morning.

She stared at the screen, waiting. Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then nothing.

Azzi had seen it. She wasn’t answering.

Paige raised an eyebrow. Oh, so that’s how it was?

She smirked, settling against her pillows, fingers moving quickly.

Paige: Ignoring me already? That’s cold.

This time, the response was quick.

Azzi: I was thinking about responding, but I didn’t want to boost your ego first thing in the morning.

Paige grinned.

Paige: Too late. You already admitted you were thinking about me.

Azzi groaned, pressing her phone against her forehead before replying.

Azzi: Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Paige: Can’t help it.

Azzi hesitated, then typed:

Azzi: …Did you sleep well?

Paige paused. A simple question, but they both knew what it really meant.

Paige: Took me a while to fall asleep. Kept thinking.

Azzi’s heart skipped.

Azzi: About?

The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then finally—

Paige: Take a wild guess.

Azzi stared at the message, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Before she could respond, a loud knock on her door made her jolt.

“Azzi! We’re heading down for breakfast,” Caroline called.

Azzi exhaled, running a hand through her hair before quickly typing out a reply.

Azzi: I have a feeling we’re thinking about the same thing.

Paige’s response was immediate.

Paige: You should think about it more. I’ll be waiting. ;)

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the warmth creeping up her neck. Paige was impossible. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the worst part? It was working.

Caroline knocked again, more impatient this time. “Azzi, seriously, we’re gonna be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Azzi muttered, pushing herself out of bed.

By the time she met up with her teammates in the hallway, she had forced her expression into something neutral. Caroline, of course, wasn’t fooled.

The second they stepped into the elevator, Caroline gave her a look. “You’ve been weird since last night.”

Azzi stiffened. “What?”

“You know what.” Caroline leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “You and Paige.”

Azzi nearly choked on air. “There is no ‘me and Paige.’”

Caroline just smirked. “Right. That’s why you’ve been checking your phone every two seconds.”

Azzi cursed internally. She should’ve known Caroline would notice. Trying to brush it off, she shrugged. “We were just talking.”

“Mhm.” Caroline clearly wasn’t buying it.

Azzi sighed, rubbing her temple. “Look, it’s—complicated.”

Caroline tilted her head. “Complicated how?”

Azzi hesitated. She and Paige hadn’t really defined whatever this was. Were they just flirting? Was it leading to something more? Did they even need to talk about it yet?

“I don’t know,” Azzi admitted.

Caroline nodded like she expected that answer. “Well, you better figure it out before one of you combusts.”

Azzi opened her mouth to argue, but the elevator doors slid open. Saved by breakfast.

—-----------------------

Across the country, Paige was stirring her cereal around her bowl, only half paying attention to the conversation around her. KK, sitting across from her, was watching her with narrowed eyes.

“You’re being weird,” KK finally said.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “How?”

KK pointed her spoon at her. “You’re distracted. You’ve barely said anything all morning.”

Paige shrugged. “Just tired.”

“Uh-huh.” KK wasn’t convinced. “You FaceTimed Azzi last night, didn’t you?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “What makes you think that?”

“Because every time you two talk at night, you act like this the next day.” KK smirked. “So what happened? More flirting? More almost moments?”

Paige huffed, shoving a spoonful of cereal in her mouth to avoid answering. KK just laughed.

“I swear, at this point, I should start taking bets on how long it’s gonna take for you two to finally do something.”

Paige nearly choked, coughing as she glared at KK. “Shut up.”

KK just grinned. “Oh, you definitely did something.”

Paige groaned, pushing her bowl away. She wasn’t going to survive this breakfast.

—-----------------------

Paige had a long morning of workouts, classes, and film study, but no matter how busy she kept herself, her mind always wandered back to the night before. The shift between her and Azzi was undeniable now. Their usual late-night calls had always carried a level of comfort, but last night had been different—charged. It had started with her checking in on Azzi, making sure she was okay after the loss, and somehow, by the end, they were toeing a line neither of them had explicitly crossed before.

Even now, sitting in the locker room before practice, Paige absentmindedly scrolled through their messages. The conversation had been light that morning, mostly filled with teasing over how Paige had “corrupted” their calls into something more suggestive, but she could tell that neither of them was ignoring what had happened. If anything, they were testing it, pushing at the edges to see where it would lead.

KK plopped down beside her, glancing at her phone. “You’ve been smiling at that screen for like five minutes. Wanna share with the class?”

Paige locked her phone immediately, shooting KK a glare. “Mind your business.”

“Oh, so that’s a yes.” KK grinned, nudging her. “Come on, I already know it’s Azzi.”

Paige rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. There was no point—KK had already pieced things together weeks ago. “You are actually the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet, you still love me.” KK smirked, dodging the half-hearted shove Paige sent her way. “So, when’s the next ‘accidental’ meet-up? Y’all are practically dating at this point.”

Paige opened her mouth to argue but hesitated. They weren’t dating—at least, they hadn’t talked about it—but the way they’d been acting lately…it was a fair assumption.

“Shut up,” Paige muttered, standing up before KK could keep digging. “I gotta go warm up.”

“Uh-huh, run away all you want. I know the truth,” KK called after her.

As practice started, Paige did her best to focus, but the thought of Azzi lingered in the back of her mind.

—-----------------------

Meanwhile, on the West Coast, Azzi was dealing with her own distractions.

She sat in the team lounge, half-listening to her teammates talk as she scrolled through her messages with Paige. The teasing was light, playful, but every now and then, a message made her stomach flip—like when Paige had casually dropped a “wish I could see you right now” in the middle of their back-and-forth.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to say something just as bold, when Caroline sat down beside her. “You look like you’re having a very serious internal debate.”

Azzi sighed, locking her phone. “Just…thinking.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Thinking about Paige?”

Azzi groaned. “Why does everyone know everything?”

Caroline laughed. “Because you’re bad at hiding things.” She leaned in. “So, what’s going on now?”

Azzi hesitated, unsure how to explain the shift between her and Paige. She didn’t even know how to define it herself. “We’ve just been…talking more. It’s different now.”

Caroline smirked. “Different how?”

Azzi bit her lip, debating how much to admit. “Just…more.”

Caroline hummed knowingly. “So, when are you seeing her next?”

That was the thing—Azzi didn’t know. Their teams were both in the thick of their seasons, traveling across the country. The distance was always there, but lately, it felt heavier.

“No clue,” Azzi admitted. “But I want to.”

She didn’t realize just how soon it would be.

—-----------------------

The exhaustion hit as soon as Paige flopped onto the couch in the team lounge after practice. The day had been brutal—scrimmages, drills, weight training—Geno wasn’t letting up, and neither were the assistant coaches. She let her head drop back, closing her eyes for a moment, only to hear someone collapse onto the seat next to her with a dramatic groan.

KK.

“I swear, my legs are gonna give out,” KK muttered, stretching out with a wince. “If we don’t get a break soon, I might actually cry.”

Paige huffed out a small laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

KK shot her a glare. “Am I? Or am I speaking facts?” She nudged Paige’s arm. “You’re just as dead as me, don’t even try to act tough.”

Paige smirked but didn’t deny it. Instead, she sighed. “Yeah, I’m tired as hell.”

KK was quiet for a second before she suddenly sat up. “Wait. Hold on. You do know we have a break coming up, right?”

Paige frowned, turning her head. “What?”

KK gave her a look like she was an idiot. “We literally get a few days off after the next game. How did you not know that?”

Paige blinked. She honestly hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Between practices, games, and keeping up with everything else, the idea of an actual break hadn’t even crossed her mind.

KK scoffed. “Wow. And you call yourself the leader of this team.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

But KK was already grinning, leaning toward her. “Sooo…what are you gonna do with your time off?”

Paige shrugged, grabbing her water bottle. “I don’t know. Probably just chill or go home.”

KK hummed. “You know…” She dragged the word out, her voice teasing. “A certain someone might have a game around then.”

Paige froze mid-sip.

KK smirked. “I checked. Stanford has a game.”

Paige slowly lowered her bottle, her mind already racing.

KK’s grin widened. “And I mean…you have all this free time. It’s kinda crazy how the universe works, huh?”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did you seriously just set me up for this whole conversation?”

KK laughed. “I literally just gave you the idea. The rest is on you.”

Paige shook her head, but she couldn’t fight the small smile forming. She had been thinking about how much she missed Azzi—this just gave her the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

Her fingers twitched against her phone, an idea forming.

“You should do it,” KK nudged her. “Surprise her. She’d lose her mind.”

Paige exhaled, already opening Instagram.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Maybe I will.”

She scrolled until she found Caroline’s profile and hesitated for only a second before typing out a message request.

Paige: Yo, I need your help with something. It’s about Azzi.

She hovered over the send button for a second before pressing it.

Now, she just had to wait. She set her phone down, trying not to stare at it like that would somehow make Caroline reply faster.

KK, of course, was watching her like a hawk. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”

Paige scoffed. “I’m fine.”

KK smirked. “Nah, you’re nervous.”

Paige just rolled her eyes, leaning back into the couch, arms crossed. She hated waiting. She’d much rather be taking action, but she also knew she needed Caroline on board for this to work. Azzi would probably kill her if she just showed up out of nowhere—okay, maybe not kill her, but she’d definitely be caught off guard.

Her phone buzzed.

Paige snatched it up immediately.

Caroline: ??? What did you do

Paige exhaled sharply, typing back.

Paige: Wtf?? Nothing. Chill lol. I just need your help with something.

It only took a few seconds for Caroline to reply.

Caroline: Mhm. Sure. What is it

Paige hesitated for a second before getting to the point.

Paige: I wanna surprise Azzi at her next game. But she can’t know.

The three little dots appeared, then disappeared. Then reappeared.

Finally, a message came through.

Caroline: LMAO. Oh, she’s gonna LOSE IT.

Paige smirked.

Paige: So you’re in?

Caroline: Absolutely.

Paige exhaled in relief. Step one—done.

Caroline: When’s your break again?

Paige: Right after our next game. That’s when I’d fly out.

Caroline: Alright. I’ll help you figure it out. But just saying, if you ignore her when you show up, she’s gonna be PISSED.

Paige grinned.

Paige: That’s kinda the point.

Caroline: You’re insane. I respect it.

Paige chuckled, already picturing how this would go. If there was one thing she knew about Azzi, it was that she hated being ignored. She’d get riled up, probably confront her about it, and—Paige wasn’t gonna lie—she kind of wanted to see that.

KK was still watching her. “Judging by your face, I’m guessing she’s in?”

Paige locked her phone. “Oh yeah.”

KK shook her head, laughing. “You’re really about to drive Azzi insane.”

Paige smirked. “That’s the plan.”

—-----------------------

It was the night after their blowout game against Xavier which also marked Paige’s last night before flying out to surprise Azzi. She barely slept—not because of nerves (she was sure Azzi would love the surprise once she got over being ignored), but because she had spent hours making sure every detail was planned perfectly.”

Her bags were packed and waiting by the door, her alarm set way too early, and her phone charged so she wouldn’t miss any updates.

When morning came, she slipped out of her dorm before most of her teammates were even awake, grabbing an Uber to the airport.

Once she checked in, she sent Caroline a quick message.

Paige: Made it to the airport. Boarding in like an hour.

Caroline: Damn, you’re really doing this. Azzi’s gonna lose her mind lol.

Paige: That’s the plan 😉

Caroline: She’s already pouting that you haven’t answered her all morning btw.

Paige: Good.

Paige grinned to herself as she made her way through security, tossing her phone into the bin before stepping through the scanner. When she got to her gate, she grabbed a quick breakfast and found a seat away from the crowd. She kept her hood up, half-watching the news on one of the overhead screens while checking her texts.

Nothing from Azzi.

Not yet, at least.

It wasn’t surprising. Azzi had already messaged her a couple of times yesterday, and Paige had forced herself not to answer. She hated ignoring her, but it was part of the plan. If she kept Azzi waiting long enough, her reaction would be even better.

Her flight got called for boarding, and she sent Caroline another update.

Paige: Getting on the plane. Next stop: Cali.

Caroline: Lmfao you’re insane. Safe flight.

Paige: Always.

She settled into her seat, threw on her headphones, and let herself relax as the plane took off.

—-----------------------

Azzi had checked her phone at least ten times that morning.

Nothing.

Her texts to Paige still sat on read. Her last message—just a simple good morning, have a great day ❤️—hadn’t even been acknowledged. Paige never ignored her like this.

She knew she shouldn’t be upset. Maybe Paige was busy. Maybe she had a team meeting or classes. But it didn’t sit right with her.

Caroline had noticed, of course.

“You good?”

Azzi sighed, locking her phone and tossing it onto her bed. “Yeah.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow.

Azzi groaned, flopping back. “She’s just… ignoring me. Like completely.”

Caroline hummed, pretending to think. “That’s weird. Maybe she’s busy?”

Azzi turned her head to glare at her. “You’re the worst liar ever.”

Caroline laughed, throwing her hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying! Maybe she’s planning something.”

Azzi’s frown deepened.

If Paige was planning something, why would she be acting like this? Paige wasn’t the type to just cut her off with no explanation.

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she was overthinking. Maybe—

Her phone buzzed.

Paige: Hey. Sorry, been busy. Talk later?

Azzi sat up instantly.

What the hell? That was it? No explanation? No usual warmth? Just talk later?

Her jaw clenched as she typed back.

Azzi: Oh. Okay.

She didn’t even wait for a response before locking her phone and setting it aside.

She was done thinking about it.

Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

—-----------------------

Paige leaned back in her seat as she landed, stretching after the long flight. She sent Caroline another update.

Paige: Landed. Heading to the hotel now.

Caroline: She’s so pissed btw lol. Good luck.

Paige: Perfect 😈

Paige grabbed her bags, pulled up her hood, and made her way out of the airport.

Azzi had no idea what was coming.

—-----------------------

Paige dropped her bags onto the hotel bed, stretching out her sore muscles from the flight. She had a few hours before the game, and she needed to figure out what to wear. If she was going to make an entrance, she had to do it right.

She flopped down and shot Caroline a message.

Paige: What should I wear to the game?

Caroline: Idk, look casual but hot.

Paige: Wow. Helpful.

Caroline: Fine, fine. What are you thinking?

Paige: Short cargos? Maybe a white top?

Caroline: Okay, that’s a start.

Paige stared at her suitcase, then glanced at her phone again, smirking as an idea popped into her head.

Paige: What if I wear Azzi’s jersey on top?

Caroline: Ohhhh. Oh, she’s gonna fold. DO IT.

Paige: Bet. Where do I get one?

Caroline sent back a quick location for the nearest store that sold Stanford gear. Paige was out of the hotel in minutes.

By the time she found the store, she was practically jogging inside. She scanned the racks, eyes landing on the bold Fudd #35 jerseys. Grabbing one in her size, she rushed to the counter, throwing down her card before the cashier could even finish their greeting.

Ten minutes later, she was back at the hotel, slipping into her outfit: white tank, short cargos, and Azzi’s jersey on top. She checked herself in the mirror, adjusting the fit.

Yeah. This was gonna wreck Azzi.

She smirked, snapped a quick selfie, and sent it to Caroline.

Paige: Fit check. You approve?

Caroline: Lmaooo. She’s done for.

Paige: Exactly.

Now, all she had to do was show up and make sure Azzi saw her.

—-----------------------

Azzi couldn’t focus. No matter how hard she tried to shake the feeling, something was off.

It had started the night before, a pit settling in her stomach when Paige didn’t text her like she usually did before bed. It was stupid—she knew that. Paige didn’t owe her constant conversation. But after weeks of late-night calls, teasing texts, and stolen moments despite the distance, the sudden silence hit her hard.

She had tried to brush it off, convincing herself that maybe Paige had just fallen asleep early. But when she woke up to nothing, that pit in her stomach deepened. No good morning message, no random meme or TikTok link, no teasing remark about her weird breakfast habits. It was a complete shutout, and Azzi had no idea why.

Now, standing in the tunnel as her team prepared to take the court, she clenched her jaw, shifting from foot to foot in frustration. She hated distractions before a game, and right now, Paige was the biggest one.

Caroline nudged her shoulder. “You good?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Yeah.”

Caroline arched her brow, unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve been weird all day.”

“I’m fine,” Azzi insisted, rolling her shoulders back in an attempt to physically shake the feeling away.

She couldn’t let Paige mess with her head.

She had a game to win.

—-----------------------

Paige, meanwhile, sat courtside, heart hammering in her chest as she adjusted Azzi’s jersey over her white top.

The arena was loud, fans buzzing with excitement as the Stanford team ran from the tunnel on to the court for warmup. Paige kept her head low, fingers gripping the edge of her shorts as she tried not to make it obvious she was watching one person in particular.

Azzi looked locked in—at least, on the surface. But Paige knew her too well.

The tightness in her movements, the way her brows furrowed just a little too deep—it was clear something was bothering her. Paige swallowed hard, knowing exactly what.

Azzi was pissed at her.

And if Paige was being honest, she kind of deserved it.

But the plan was already in motion. She just had to hold out a little longer.

Her grip tightened on the fabric of Azzi’s jersey.

She couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she noticed her.

As the team continued warming up, Caroline bounced on her toes, shaking out her arms while scanning the crowd. She wasn’t searching for anyone—just soaking in the energy of the arena—when her gaze landed on Paige.

Blonde hair. Tied back into a perfect bun.

Caroline smirked. Of course.

She had already spotted Paige earlier, but seeing her now, sitting courtside like she owned the place, just made it funnier. Dressed in a plain white shirt with Azzi’s jersey pulled over it, Paige looked like she belonged in the Stanford fan section.

She sat back in her seat with a manspread, one arm draped over the chair next to her—all confidence and ease, effortlessly blending in. But Caroline could spot that smugness a mile away.

It was such a Paige move.

A slow grin stretched across Caroline’s face. She immediately gave Paige a thumbs-up, silently hyping her up for the bold play. Paige simply smirked, tilting her chin up in acknowledgment.

Caroline had to give it to her. This plan was genius.

Quickly, she jogged over to the sidelines, making sure Azzi was still focused on her warm-up before slipping past the other players. Paige saw her coming and grinned, standing up just in time for Caroline to reach her.

“You are so messy for this,” Caroline whispered, but her tone was pure amusement.

Paige chuckled, eyes flickering toward Azzi for a second before landing back on Caroline. “Good, right?”

Caroline bit her lip to keep from laughing. “She’s so pissed at you right now.”

Paige ran a hand down her face dramatically. “I know. She’s probably plotting my murder.”

Caroline smirked, shaking her head. “Nah, she won’t be mad once she sees you. Well—maybe for a second. But then she’ll fold.”

Paige grinned. “That’s the plan.”

Without another word, they dapped each other up, the silent confirmation that this was about to be so worth it.

Caroline quickly jogged back to the court before Azzi could notice she was missing, but her excitement buzzed under her skin.

Paige had played this perfectly.

—-----------------------

The energy in the arena was electric, the kind that buzzed through every inch of the building and made every movement feel heavier, sharper. The Stanford crowd was loud, and Azzi was locked in—jaw tight, eyes sharp, moving with that calculated precision that made her so lethal. Paige knew that look. It was the same one Azzi had before every big game, the one that meant she was about to turn up.

Paige leaned forward in her seat, elbows resting on her knees, eyes never leaving Azzi. The game had barely tipped off, but Paige was already locked in like she was the one about to step onto the court. Every move Azzi made, every shot she took, every defensive stop—Paige watched like her life depended on it.

Stanford’s offense flowed smoothly, and Azzi was at the center of it. She started strong, knocking down a smooth pull-up jumper off a screen, then cutting backdoor on the next possession for an easy layup. Paige smirked, nodding her head. Yeah, that’s my girl.

Caroline, who was subbing in at the scorer’s table, stole a quick glance at Paige and let out a knowing chuckle. Paige was so obvious. The way she sat forward every time Azzi touched the ball, how she reacted to every shot like she was playing herself, the small fist clench whenever Azzi locked up on defense—Caroline had never seen Paige so animated during a game that wasn’t her own.

Stanford was holding a small lead when Azzi got really going. She drilled a deep three from the wing, nothing but net, and Paige shot up in her seat, clapping hard.

“Hell yeah, Azzi!” she yelled before remembering where she was and quickly sitting back down, glancing around to see if anyone noticed.

Caroline caught it and definitely noticed. She shook her head, grinning as she ran back onto the court. This was gonna be good.

—-----------------------

The game stayed tight, the opposing team making runs to keep it close. Azzi was Stanford’s rock, steady and composed even under pressure. But Paige could see how badly she wanted this. She knew the little things—the way Azzi’s shoulders tensed when she missed a shot she knew she should’ve hit, how she bit her lip when she was deep in thought during a timeout.

Paige could feel her own adrenaline spiking as the game reached the final minutes. Stanford was up by two, but the opposing team had possession. Azzi was locked in on defense, shadowing her player step for step. The girl tried to shake her with a crossover, but Azzi didn’t budge, staying in front of her.

Paige sat up straighter, gripping the edge of her seat.

The girl went up for a contested jumper, and Azzi blocked it.

The crowd exploded. Paige exploded. She jumped up, her hands flying to her head before she let out a yell. “LET’S FUCKING GO, AZZI!”

Caroline turned toward the sideline and caught Paige’s reaction again. She smirked, shaking her head slightly. Yeah, Azzi was about to lose it when she found out Paige was here.

Stanford secured the rebound, and after a few free throws, the win was locked in. The final buzzer sounded, and Azzi exhaled, letting the tension drain from her shoulders as she high-fived her teammates.

She had no idea.

Caroline jogged over to her during the post-game huddle, casually bumping her shoulder. “Good game.”

Azzi sighed. “Thanks. That was a battle.”

Caroline nodded, then tilted her head slightly, her smirk barely contained. “You had a pretty enthusiastic fan tonight.”

Azzi furrowed her brows. “Huh?”

Caroline just gave her a pointed look before subtly tilting her head toward the sideline. “Look over there.”

Azzi followed her gaze, and—

She froze.

Blonde hair tied up in a bun. Her jersey.

Paige.

Sitting courtside, her smirk smug as hell.

Azzi’s breath caught. Her heart skipped a beat.

No. No way.

Paige was here?

Everything suddenly clicked. The constant text messages that Paige suspiciously stopped sending an hour before the game. The way Caroline had been weirdly smirking all night.

Her jersey.

Paige planned this.

Azzi’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as the realization sank in. She had spent the last day annoyed as hell at Paige for ignoring her—only to find out Paige had flown out here to surprise her at her game?

Azzi’s whole body tensed as the realization settled in. She didn’t know whether she wanted to yell at her or kiss her.

Paige had ignored her for the past day, leaving her annoyed, restless, and frustrated—just for this? A surprise that made Azzi’s stomach flip and her heart pound in ways she wasn’t prepared for?

She was still frozen in place when Paige—smug as hell—tilted her head slightly and shot her a teasing little wave. Azzi narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenching as Caroline barely held in her laughter beside her.

“Oh my God,” Azzi muttered, rubbing her temples. “She’s so annoying.”

Caroline grinned. “Annoying, but…”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “But this was… a lot.”

Caroline bumped her shoulder. “Just admit you love it.”

Azzi shot her a look, but her stomach was doing too many damn flips for her to deny it.

The rest of the team was still caught up in post-game talk, but Azzi’s attention was locked on Paige, who was casually leaning back in her seat like she hadn’t just driven Azzi up the wall for a full day.

She looked so satisfied with herself.

Azzi exhaled, running a hand over her face before mumbling, “I’m gonna kill her.”

Caroline just snickered. “Sure you are.”

Azzi shook her head, turning back to the rest of the team, trying to focus as they wrapped up post-game talks. But she could feel Paige’s gaze on her. She knew Paige was enjoying every second of this.

And worst of all? Azzi couldn’t even be mad.

She was supposed to be pissed—Paige had ignored her for a day and a half just for this—but instead, all she could think about was the fact that Paige had flown out here just to see her. Just to sit courtside in her jersey. Just to pull off a surprise that had Azzi’s whole mind spinning.

God, she was so whipped.

As the team started making their way toward the tunnel, Caroline leaned in and whispered, “So… you gonna talk to her, or are you gonna keep pretending you’re mad?”

Azzi shot her a look but didn’t answer.

Caroline grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then, before Azzi could say anything else, Caroline was jogging ahead—just as Paige, still radiating smugness, slipped past security and walked straight into the tunnel.

Azzi exhaled sharply. Of course she did.

Azzi took a deep breath as she walked toward the tunnel, trying to process the game she had just played. They had won, and everyone seemed to think she played well, but she knew she could’ve done better. Right now, all she wanted was to get back to the locker room and unwind.

But then she saw her.

Paige stood a few steps ahead, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, looking way too pleased with herself for someone who had been ignoring her for two days.

Azzi’s steps slowed, and despite everything, a warmth spread through her chest.

She almost thought she was imagining things. But no—Paige was actually there, standing in her jersey, paired with an almost unfairly good outfit. The white top underneath was just fitted enough, and the damn short cargo shorts had no business looking that good on her.

Azzi should have been mad.

She was mad.

Right?

Paige tilted her head, smirk deepening as she took in Azzi’s obvious reaction. “Hey, superstar.”

Azzi exhaled sharply through her nose, quickening her steps and stopping just inches away from Paige, eyes narrowed.

“You ignored me for this?” she demanded, voice low.

Paige didn’t flinch. If anything, she looked amused. “You mad?”

Azzi crossed her arms. “Yes.”

Paige’s smirk grew. “No, you’re not.”

Azzi clenched her jaw. “You ignored me for almost two days, Paige.”

Paige gave an easy shrug. “And?”

Azzi scoffed. “And I should be mad.”

Paige’s voice softened just slightly, teasing fading into something quieter. “But you’re not.”

Azzi bit her cheek, willing herself not to fold. But it was so hard when Paige was standing this close, looking at her like that.

Azzi sighed, the frustration melting into something much softer. “…You’re so annoying.”

Paige beamed. “And yet, here you are, melting for me.”

Azzi groaned. “I hate you.”

“Liar.” Paige’s voice dropped, her gaze flickering just slightly to Azzi’s lips before meeting her eyes again.

Azzi swallowed. Nope. She was not doing this here, in the middle of the tunnel, with the whole arena still buzzing outside.

Before she could step back, movement from the side caught her attention.

Caroline.

Azzi turned her head just as Caroline strolled up with a massive smirk, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“I knew something was up,” Caroline said, crossing her arms as she took in Paige’s outfit. “And you really thought wearing her jersey was subtle?”

Paige grinned, looking completely unbothered. “I mean… she noticed.”

Azzi hated how flustered she felt. She shot Caroline a glare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Caroline ignored her, eyes gleaming as she leaned toward Paige. “So, when’s the wedding?”

Azzi groaned loudly. Paige just laughed.

Caroline held up her hands. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you lovebirds alone… for now.” She winked at Paige and Azzi as she walked back.

Paige watched Caroline disappear into the locker room, shaking her head with a small laugh. When she turned back to Azzi, her teasing smirk softened into something warmer, more affectionate.

Azzi rolled her eyes. But her heart was still racing. Because as much as she wanted to be mad, all she could think about was the fact that Paige was here.

Azzi exhaled sharply. “I hate both of you.”

Paige just grinned. “Again… liar.”

They both let out a chuckle.

“C’mere” Paige murmured, opening her arms.

Azzi didn’t hesitate.

She stepped forward, melting into Paige’s embrace, her arms looping around Paige’s shoulders and fingers brushing against the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. Paige’s own arms wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in close, her hands resting just above her lower back.

Azzi let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, pressing herself deeper into the hug, her forehead resting against Paige’s collarbone. She could feel the steady rise and fall of Paige’s chest, the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the faintest traces of laundry detergent and something so distinctly Paige. It made her relax in an instant.

Paige’s hands moved slowly, caressing Azzi’s back in soothing circles.

“You played so good, Az,” she murmured into her hair, her voice soft and full of admiration. “Seriously. You were locked in, making big shots, playing defense—key reason for that win.”

Azzi exhaled, sinking further into Paige’s warmth, letting herself enjoy the moment.

“You think so?” she mumbled against Paige’s shoulder.

Paige scoffed lightly. “Think so? Baby, I know so.”

Azzi felt her cheeks heat at the casual use of baby, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she pressed closer. Paige chuckled softly at the reaction, her breath warm against Azzi’s temple before she placed a lingering kiss on the top of her head. Then another. And another.

Azzi closed her eyes, feeling the tension from the game finally dissipate.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice slightly muffled, “you look really good in my jersey.”

Paige smirked, her hands still caressing Azzi’s back. “Oh yeah?”

Azzi pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, lips twitching. “Yeah.”

Paige leaned in slightly, their faces mere inches apart, her voice teasing. “Should’ve worn it sooner, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t fight the smile pulling at her lips. “Shut up.”

Paige just grinned.

Before either of them could say anything else, a loud voice interrupted.

“Alright, lovebirds, break it up,” Caroline called from the doorway, her arms crossed.

Paige sighed dramatically, her grip on Azzi tightening playfully for a second before she reluctantly pulled back. Azzi immediately missed the warmth.

“I gotta go before she starts really running her mouth,” Paige muttered, giving Azzi’s waist one last squeeze.

Caroline smirked. “Too late for that.”

Paige shot her a look before turning back to Azzi. “We’ll meet up after, yeah?”

Azzi nodded, then hesitated before quickly leaning in, pressing a soft kiss against Paige’s cheek. Paige’s eyes widened slightly, but she recovered fast, her smirk returning.

Azzi tilted her head. “Where are you staying?”

Paige blinked. “Oh, uh—hotel. Not far from here.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Which one? And what room?”

Paige chuckled. “You tryna rob me or something?”

Azzi gave her a look. “Paige.”

Paige bit back a smile. “Fine, fine. It’s—” she told her the hotel and room number.

Azzi nodded. “Okay. I’ll text you.”

Paige smirked. “Or you could just show up.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but fought back a smile as she stepped back toward the locker room.

Caroline, who had been watching the whole exchange with barely contained amusement, finally turned away.

And the second she did, Azzi took her chance—quickly leaning back in to steal another kiss, this time at the corner of Paige’s mouth before pulling away with a small smirk.

Paige blinked, momentarily stunned.

Azzi tilted her head. “See you later?”

Paige exhaled sharply, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yeah, Az. See you later.”

Azzi turned and walked off, leaving Paige standing there, staring after her like an absolute goner.

Had that just happened?

Her hand absentmindedly brushed against the spot where Azzi had kissed her, her brain trying to process the last few minutes. Azzi had been so soft with her, so quick to close the distance between them, so—bold.

Paige shook her head, a smirk pulling at her lips as she finally turned on her heel, heading out of the arena.

Caroline had been right. Azzi was folding.

—-----------------------

As she stepped outside into the cool night air, she pulled out her phone, quickly typing a message to Caroline.

Paige: solid W on the assist 👏🏻👏🏻

Caroline: I know. You owe me big time 😌

Paige: relax. All you did was tell me to wear the jersey

Caroline: yeah, and now she’s about to sneak off to your hotel later. You’re welcome.

Paige huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. Caroline wasn’t wrong.

She pocketed her phone and walked toward her hotel, feeling a little lighter with every step.

—-----------------------

Back at the locker room, Azzi was definitely not paying attention to whatever post-game speech her coach was giving.

Her mind was still stuck on Paige.

On the way Paige had pulled her close, on the way she smelled like something fresh and familiar, on the way her hands had traced slow circles against her back, on the way she had called her babe so easily.

On the way she had leaned in for that second kiss without even thinking about it.

Gosh.

Azzi clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus.

She just needed to shower, grab her things, and then—then she’d figure out what the hell she was going to do.

She wasn’t backing out now.

Not when she had already asked Paige for the address.

Not when Paige had told her to just show up.

And especially not when her entire body was already aching for another hug, another whispered compliment, another anything from Paige.

She just had to play it cool.

Easy.

Right?

—-----------------------

Back in the dorm, Azzi stood in front of her closet, eyes scanning over her options even though she already knew what she was going to wear.

She had told herself—really told herself—that she was just going to keep it casual. Paige had only invited her over to relax, nothing crazy. They were just going to hang out, maybe talk about the game, just be together.

But somehow, she still found herself reaching for a fitted pink cropped tank top, one that showed off just enough to make a statement without trying too hard. She paired it with short, ripped jeans, the kind that hugged her hips just right.

Her hair was the last thing she focused on, pulling it into a slicked-back bun, leaving the front curls out to frame her face.

She stared at herself in the mirror, lips pressing together. Okay, yeah. She looked good.

Too good for just a chill night?

Before she could overthink it, her door swung open, and Caroline strolled in like she owned the place.

“Wow,” Caroline drawled, crossing her arms as she took in Azzi’s outfit. “So this is your definition of ‘just hanging out,’ huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, pretending to adjust her top. “What are you talking about?”

Caroline smirked. “Don’t play dumb. You’re dressing way too nice for a casual hangout in Paige’s hotel room. You tryna make her pass out the second she opens the door?”

Azzi felt her face heat up. “Shut up.”

“I mean—” Caroline gestured at her. “This whole thing? The top, the shorts? Paige is gonna gush. Probably won’t even let you inside without standing there admiring you for ten minutes first.”

Azzi huffed, shaking her head as she grabbed her phone and her bag. “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m right though,” Caroline countered, grinning. “She already showed up to your game in your jersey. You might as well return the favor by making her speechless tonight.”

Azzi tried not to let the teasing get to her, but Caroline’s words settled somewhere deep inside her.

Was she doing too much?

Or—maybe—was she just finally letting herself do what she wanted to do?

Either way, there was no turning back now.

She was about to find out exactly how Paige was going to react.

Azzi took one last look at herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands down the front of her top before huffing out a breath. It’s just Paige. That thought should’ve calmed her, but instead, it only made her more nervous.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser.

Paige: Text me when you’re on your way.

Azzi smiled to herself, fingers hovering over the screen before she quickly typed out a reply.

Azzi: Leaving my dorm now.

She grabbed her pink jacket off the chair and slipped it on, zipping it up halfway. As much as she wanted to see Paige’s reaction when she took it off, she wasn’t about to freeze walking out of her dorm just for the sake of dramatics.

“Okay, okay,” Caroline said, watching her with an amused expression. “You’re already glowing. Relax.”

Azzi shot her a flat look. “I am relaxed.”

Caroline snorted. “Right. That’s why you’re fidgeting with your hoodie zipper like you’re about to walk down the aisle instead of, I don’t know, go see your not-girlfriend in her hotel room.”

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as she pulled the hood up slightly, if only to avoid giving Caroline the satisfaction of seeing how flustered she actually was.

“I’m leaving now before you make me rethink my entire life.”

Caroline held up her hands in surrender, but her teasing smirk never wavered. “Have fun. Or, you know, try not to combust when she inevitably loses her mind over you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, stepping out the door without another word.

But as she made her way outside, heart already racing at the thought of seeing Paige again—this time, with no game, no crowd, no distractions—she couldn’t help but think that maybe Caroline had a point.

Paige was going to lose her mind.

And Azzi?

She was so ready to see it.

—-----------------------

Azzi slid into the driver’s seat of her car, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before exhaling deeply. The night air was cool, but she could still feel the warmth on her skin from getting ready—whether it was nerves or excitement, she wasn’t sure. Probably both.

She started the engine and plugged in the hotel’s address, her phone screen illuminating her face as the navigation loaded. The drive wasn’t far, but it felt significant—like a shift in something she wasn’t quite ready to name.

The streets were quiet, the late hour making traffic almost nonexistent. With one hand on the wheel, she reached for her phone at the red light and shot Paige a quick text.

Azzi: Just got in the car. On my way.

A reply came almost instantly.

Paige: Bout time.

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto her lips. The light turned green, and she pressed down on the gas, heart picking up speed along with the car.

As she got closer to the hotel, her thoughts started racing. She wasn’t sure what to expect—actually, that was a lie. She knew exactly what to expect. Paige waiting for her with that signature smirk. Paige leaning back like she had all the time in the world. Paige probably being annoyingly smug about Azzi coming all this way just to see her.

—-----------------------

She pulled into the hotel parking lot, turning off the engine but staying seated for a second. Her fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel as she tried to calm the anticipation thrumming through her.

Then, her phone buzzed again.

Paige: You just gonna sit out there or you coming in?

Azzi huffed out a laugh. Of course, Paige was waiting for her.

She grabbed her phone, jacket still zipped up as she stepped out of the car and locked it behind her. Her sneakers barely made a sound against the pavement as she walked toward the entrance, pulse quickening with every step.

This wasn’t just a meet-up. Not after everything that had happened.

And she had a feeling tonight was going to change everything.

—-----------------------

Azzi stepped into the hotel lobby, the cool air conditioning hitting her skin as she scanned the quiet space. It was late, so there weren’t many people around—just the receptionist at the front desk and a few scattered guests lingering near the elevators.

Her phone buzzed again.

Paige: 5th level, Room 535.

Azzi exhaled through her nose, a small smile tugging at her lips. She made her way across the polished floor, slipping into the elevator and pressing the button for the fifth floor. The doors slid shut, enclosing her in the soft hum of the moving lift.

As she leaned back against the wall, her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored interior. She looked… composed, but her fingers still fidgeted slightly with the zipper of her jacket. The pink tank top underneath clung to her just right, and she could already hear Caroline’s teasing in her head about how much effort she’d put into getting ready.

A quiet ding signaled her arrival, and the doors slid open. Azzi stepped out, the hallway stretching out ahead of her in warm, dim lighting. The carpet muffled her footsteps as she made her way toward Paige’s room, heart thudding in a steady rhythm.

She barely had a chance to knock before the door swung open.

Paige stood there, leaning against the doorframe, one hand gripping the edge of the door while the other rested lazily on her hip. She was wearing a plain black hoodie and shorts, the sweatshirt hanging loose over her frame—Azzi could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. And somehow, that made it even worse.

The slow smirk Paige gave her wasn’t helping.

“Took you long enough.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but stepped inside, brushing past Paige as she did. She caught the faint scent of her body wash—something clean and slightly citrusy—lingering in the air.

Azzi stepped further into the room, scanning the space as Paige shut the door behind her. It was a standard hotel room—neutral tones, soft lighting, a single bed that looked inviting—but the only thing Azzi’s mind really registered was Paige.

Paige, who stretched her arms above her head with a satisfied sigh before flopping onto the bed like she owned the place.

Azzi barely had a second to process it before her eyes caught on the way Paige’s hoodie shifted, rising just enough to expose the toned expanse of her stomach. The fabric bunched up slightly, leaving her abs on full display, and Azzi’s brain short-circuited for a moment.

Her mouth felt dry. God.

Paige had changed out of the jersey, now in just a hoodie with no shirt underneath and a pair of shorts that did nothing to help Azzi’s situation. The way she was sprawled out so effortlessly, completely at ease, made it even worse.

Paige’s eyes flickered to her, a slow, knowing smile forming.

“You just gonna stand there?” she teased, patting the spot next to her. “C’mon.”

Azzi inhaled slowly, willing her face to stay neutral as she made her way over. She tried not to overthink it as she sat down beside Paige, her body instantly feeling warmer, too aware of how close they were.

Even the minimal space between them felt like too much.

Paige shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow, and Azzi could feel the weight of her gaze. It was impossible to ignore.

The warmth in her chest only grew hotter.

- She exhaled through her nose, suddenly feeling stifled. Without thinking, she reached for the zipper of her jacket, tugging it down slowly. The sound of the zipper filled the quiet room, dragging far longer than it should have.

Paige had stopped moving.

Azzi could feel her eyes locked on her as she slid the hoodie off her shoulders, revealing the fitted cropped pink tank top underneath. She wasn’t usually this bold, but something about the air between them, the way Paige’s gaze darkened slightly, sent a thrill through her.

Paige’s lips parted slightly, her eyes trailing over her like she wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Damn,” Paige muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Azzi to hear.

Azzi felt her stomach flip, heat creeping up her neck, but she just raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What?”

Paige shook her head, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. “Nothing,” she murmured, her voice lower than before. “Just… you look really good.”

Azzi’s heartbeat stuttered.

The tension had shifted, thickened, like they were teetering on the edge of something neither of them could ignore.

Azzi swallowed, forcing herself to stay composed despite the way her heart pounded. She played it off with a small smile, tilting her head slightly.

“Thanks,” she murmured, feeling the warmth of Paige’s eyes still on her.

There was a beat of silence, thick and charged. Paige’s gaze lingered, and Azzi could feel it, feel the way it traced over her bare shoulders, her collarbone, down to where the fabric of her cropped tank top hugged her frame.

Then Paige shifted, leaning back against the pillows with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Damn,” she said, exaggeratedly fanning herself. “Is it just me, or is it getting kinda hot in here?”

Azzi’s breath caught.

Before she could even think of a response, Paige reached for the hem of her hoodie and tugged it over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Azzi’s brain short-circuited.

Paige was left in nothing but a black Nike sports bra and her shorts, her toned arms and defined abs completely exposed. The way the dim hotel lighting hit her skin only made it worse.

Azzi could not look away.

She felt warmth creep up her neck, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of the bedspread as Paige stretched her arms above her head again, muscles flexing just enough to make Azzi’s throat go dry.

Paige shot her a knowing look, tilting her head. “Something wrong?”

Azzi blinked rapidly, trying to shake herself out of whatever daze she had just fallen into. “No,” she said, a little too quickly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Paige hummed, clearly amused, but didn’t push. Instead, she settled back against the pillows, arms folded behind her head, completely at ease—while Azzi was still trying to remember how to breathe.

The air between them was thick, heavier than before, like they were walking a fine line neither of them was ready to break just yet.

—-----------------------

Azzi could still feel the heat on her face, and it had nothing to do with the warmth of the room. She needed to look anywhere else—the TV, the hotel lamp, the bland paintings on the wall.

But her eyes betrayed her.

Paige was lounging so effortlessly, arms still folded behind her head, her toned stomach fully on display, abs flexing slightly as she shifted. She looked completely unbothered, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Azzi swallowed hard.

The confident smirk on Paige’s lips told her she knew exactly what she was doing.

Azzi tried to play it cool, leaning back on her hands, pretending like she wasn’t struggling to keep her breathing steady.

“You’re really out here getting too comfortable, huh?” she teased, hoping to steer herself back to safer ground.

Paige just shrugged, her smirk deepening. “It’s my hotel room. Might as well make myself at home.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, forcing herself to glance away. “Yeah, well…” Her voice trailed off, but before she could even think, the words slipped out under her breath.

“You look hot, though…”

The second the words left her mouth, her body froze.

Her eyes widened slightly, her breath catching in her throat as she realized what she had just said.

Paige definitely caught it.

The smirk on her lips turned into something sharper, more pleased, her blue eyes darkening with amusement as she lifted an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

Azzi wanted to die.

She cleared her throat, shaking her head quickly. “Nothing.”

Paige pushed herself up onto her elbows, her gaze locked onto Azzi’s like a challenge.

“Nah,” she said, biting her lip slightly. “I think I heard you say something.”

Azzi groaned, rubbing a hand over her face as she tried to recover, but her skin was burning. “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled, her voice lower, smug. “So you do think I look hot?”

Azzi refused to answer.

Paige leaned in slightly, tilting her head, her eyes practically twinkling. “Don’t worry, Az,” she murmured. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Azzi’s breath hitched.

The air between them shifted again, tension crackling like an unspoken challenge neither of them wanted to acknowledge just yet.

Azzi swallowed hard, pressing her lips together, but it was useless.

Paige noticed.

Of course she did.

That damn smirk was back, sharp and knowing, her blue eyes gleaming with something that made Azzi’s skin burn.

“You good?” Paige asked, her voice dipping into something lower, smoother.

Azzi blinked rapidly, snapping herself out of it. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine.”

Paige hummed, clearly not convinced.

Then, without warning, she reached over, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s bare shoulder.

Azzi barely had time to react before she felt a gentle tug.

Paige’s fingers were playing with the strap of her tank top, toying with it slowly, dragging it between her fingers before letting it slide just slightly down Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi swore her breath got caught in her throat.

Paige leaned in a little, her eyes flickering up to meet hers, her lips curling into something dangerously playful.

“You know…” Paige murmured, her fingers still tracing the strap lazily. “This reminds me of something.”

Azzi felt a shiver crawl up her spine.

“…What?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Paige tilted her head, that knowing smirk deepening.

“That one night,” she said. “When we were on the phone. And you kept playing with your tank top strap.”

Azzi froze.

Her heart slammed against her chest as the memory rushed back—that night, when she had been teasing Paige, letting her tank top strap slip lower and lower just to get a reaction out of her.

And now Paige was flipping the script.

“I wasn’t—” Azzi started, but Paige cut her off with a soft chuckle.

“You so were,” she murmured, her fingers still tracing over Azzi’s shoulder, barely there, yet so much.

Azzi could barely breathe.

The air between them felt dangerous, charged with something unspoken, something they had been dancing around for so long.

And Paige? She knew it.

She let the strap slip just a little further, her fingers grazing Azzi’s collarbone, her touch featherlight, teasing.

Azzi felt hot. Everywhere.

The deliberate touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she barely registered Paige’s teasing voice.

“Didn’t think I’d forget about that little show you put on for me, did you?” Paige murmured, her voice smooth, edged with something unmistakable.

Azzi swallowed, heat pooling in her stomach. “I—I wasn’t putting on a show,” she tried to argue, but her voice betrayed her, breathy and uneven.

Paige smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief. She let the strap go, her fingers trailing featherlight down Azzi’s arm before settling on her waist. The warmth of Paige’s hand burned through the thin fabric, and Azzi’s pulse thundered in her ears.

Azzi tried to focus—tried to keep her eyes locked on Paige’s face—but it was impossible when Paige was sitting there, toned stomach and defined abs on full display, looking so effortlessly confident, so effortlessly… hot.

The tension crackled between them, neither willing to break first, until Azzi couldn’t take it anymore. Her gaze flickered down to Paige’s lips, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in, closing the distance.

The kiss was slow at first, almost hesitant—Paige’s lips molding against hers, soft and warm. But then Paige tilted her head, deepening it, and Azzi felt herself melt into her. Paige’s hands tightened on her waist, and in one smooth motion, she pulled Azzi fully onto her lap.

Azzi gasped against her lips, hands flying to Paige’s bare shoulders for balance. But Paige didn’t stop—didn’t give her a second to process. Instead, she kissed her again, harder this time, and Azzi responded in kind. Their lips moved in sync, breaths mingling, the room suddenly feeling much warmer.

Paige’s tongue swiped against Azzi’s bottom lip, teasing, asking for entrance, until Azzi parted her lips just enough to let her in. The moment their tongues met, a low sound rumbled from Paige’s throat, and Azzi felt it all the way down to her core. The kiss turned heated, tongues tangling in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, neither of them willing to pull away.

Azzi’s fingers curled into Paige’s shoulders, gripping tight as she lost herself in the sensation—Paige’s hands roaming up and down her back, Paige’s lips moving with a kind of confidence that made her dizzy. Paige kissed like she knew exactly what she was doing, like she’d been waiting for this as much as Azzi had.

Azzi barely noticed when Paige’s hands slid up, fingertips brushing just under the hem of her tank top, before retreating just as quickly. Teasing. Always teasing.

She pulled back, just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against Paige’s. Paige’s hands stayed firm on her waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against her skin.

Azzi licked her lips, dazed. “Wow.”

Paige grinned, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded, still breathless. “Yeah.”

Paige chuckled, tilting her head back against the headboard. “Told you you’d fold.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. “Shut up.”

Paige hummed, her grip on Azzi’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “Make me.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She crashed her lips back onto Paige’s, fingers tightening against her shoulders. Paige barely had a second to smirk before she was kissing her back, matching Azzi’s urgency with just as much intensity. Their lips moved in sync, the heat between them undeniable, impossible to ignore.

Paige’s hands slid up from Azzi’s waist, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin beneath her tank top, teasing but never pressing too much. It drove Azzi insane—the way Paige knew exactly how to make her want more without giving it right away.

Azzi sighed against Paige’s lips, and that was all it took for Paige to take control. Without warning, she flipped them, shifting their positions so that Azzi was suddenly beneath her, head hitting the pillows. Paige settled between her legs, pressing her weight down just enough to make Azzi breathless.

Paige’s lips curled into a smirk. “That’s better.”

Azzi blinked up at her, wide-eyed and stunned. “H-how did you—?”

Paige only grinned, lowering herself down until their lips met again. This time, she didn’t rush. She took her time, savoring every kiss, making sure Azzi felt each one. Her hands roamed, fingers tracing patterns along Azzi’s sides before slipping under the hem of her tank top again, pushing it up just a little.

Azzi gasped when Paige’s lips left hers, trailing downward, along her jaw, down the column of her neck. She tilted her head back instinctively, giving Paige more space, her fingers threading into soft blonde hair as she felt Paige’s lips press against her skin.

Then she felt it—Paige sucking lightly, her lips lingering, her tongue flicking over the spot right below her ear. A shiver ran through Azzi’s entire body.

“Paige,” she breathed, her grip tightening in blonde locks.

Paige hummed against her skin, pleased with the reaction. She continued her slow descent, placing open-mouthed kisses down Azzi’s neck, lingering long enough to leave faint marks. When she got to Azzi’s collarbone, she bit down lightly before soothing the spot with her tongue.

Azzi’s breathing grew unsteady, chest rising and falling beneath Paige, heat spreading through every inch of her skin. Paige wasn’t just teasing her now—she was claiming her, making sure Azzi would feel every single place she kissed.

When Paige pulled back, her eyes usually light blue now dark and full of mischief, Azzi was left dazed, her lips slightly parted as she tried to catch her breath.

Paige smirked. “I wish I was able to do this sooner.”

Azzi swallowed, her pulse still racing. “Same,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Paige leaned in again, lips brushing against Azzi’s jaw before moving back up to capture her lips once more. The kiss was slower this time, softer, but no less intense.

Azzi didn’t know how long they stayed like that, tangled in each other, Paige’s lips on hers, on her neck, on her collarbone. All she knew was that she didn’t want it to stop.

Paige pulled back slightly, just enough to admire her work, her fingers lightly tracing over the faint marks she had left behind. A satisfied smirk tugged at her lips as her gaze flickered up to Azzi’s flushed face.

“You’re so sensitive,” Paige murmured, dragging a thumb over one of the marks just to watch Azzi squirm beneath her. “Look at this…” She pressed another kiss just below Azzi’s jaw, lips lingering for a second. “I barely even tried.”

Azzi exhaled sharply, her hands gripping Paige’s arms as heat flared beneath her skin. Paige’s voice alone was enough to set her on fire, but the way she was looking at her right now—like she had all the time in the world to explore every inch of her—was almost too much.

Azzi wasn’t about to let Paige have all the control.

With a spark of determination, she shifted slightly beneath Paige, tilting her chin up with feigned innocence before letting her fingers ghost down Paige’s bare sides, her nails dragging lightly over the toned skin of her abdomen.

Paige inhaled sharply at the touch, her muscles tensing.

“Oh, you think you’re funny?” Paige challenged, her voice dropping lower.

Azzi hummed in response, letting her fingers continue their slow, teasing path over Paige’s stomach, deliberately pressing against the defined ridges of her abs. She was fully aware of how much Paige loved being touched like this—how much she craved it, even if she’d never admit it.

Paige’s smirk faltered for just a second before she moved, effortlessly capturing Azzi’s wrists and pinning them down beside her head, intertwining their fingers.

Azzi’s breath hitched.

Paige hovered over her, their noses nearly brushing, their lips close enough that Azzi could feel the warmth of Paige’s breath. The weight of Paige’s body pressing down against her, the strength in her grip—it made Azzi’s head spin.

“Not so bold now, huh?” Paige teased, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s, taunting, waiting.

Azzi swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. She could feel every inch of Paige against her, feel the heat radiating between them, feel the tension wrapping around them like a thread pulled too tight.

Paige squeezed her hands gently, her thumbs brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “What’s wrong?” she murmured, eyes flickering between Azzi’s parted lips and the flushed skin of her cheeks. “You were real confident a second ago.”

Azzi wasn’t sure if she wanted to push back or pull Paige down completely. Either way, she wasn’t backing down. She could feel the weight of Paige’s body pressing against hers, and the heat radiating between them was almost too much to ignore.

Paige seemed to sense the moment too, her grip loosening just slightly around Azzi’s wrists. She gave her a brief, teasing smile before flipping them over in one swift move. Now, Paige was leaning back against the headboard of the bed, with Azzi straddling her lap. The change in position was electric, and Azzi’s heart raced as she looked down at Paige, feeling the weight of the moment.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s back, pulling her closer until they were pressed flush against each other, like an embrace that somehow felt more intense than anything they had shared before. Paige buried her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck, her breath hot against her skin. The gentle rhythm of Paige’s exhales made Azzi shiver, and she let out a small breath as she leaned into the comfort of the embrace.

“I need you to message Caroline,” Paige said softly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s skin as she spoke. “Let her know you’re spending the night with me. Tell her you’ll be back tomorrow so she doesn’t worry.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment, but she nodded, the gentle pressure of Paige’s arms around her easing any lingering uncertainty. She reached for her phone, fingers tapping out the message quickly. As soon as she hit send, her phone buzzed with Caroline’s response: “Well, look at you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… ;)”

Paige grinned, pulling back slightly to look at the marks she’d left on Azzi’s skin. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she traced her fingertips gently over them, her touch lingering with a possessive tenderness that sent warmth through Azzi’s chest. Then, without a word, Paige placed several soft, lingering kisses over the marks, her lips gentle and warm against Azzi’s skin.

Once Azzi finished texting Caroline back, she raised an eyebrow and let out a playful laugh. “It’s not fair,” she said with a teasing smile, “I’m the only one with marks.” Without waiting for an answer, she leaned down, brushing her lips against Paige’s neck and leaving a few marks of her own.

The heat between them seemed to rise again as they met each other’s gaze, and in that moment, it was clear: things had shifted. The playful teasing, the laughter, the soft touches—all of it had led them here. The connection between them had deepened in ways neither of them could fully explain, but neither of them wanted to pull away, either.

As they kissed again, it was slower this time—gentle but full of meaning. Azzi could feel every sensation as their lips met, the warmth, the sweetness, the promise of something more. The kiss lingered, not rushed, but full of a quiet intensity. But eventually, they pulled back, both of them breathing a little heavier, the air between them felt thick with unspoken tension. Paige’s chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her hand lingering close to Azzi’s, unsure whether to close the distance again or pull away.

Paige’s voice broke the silence, hesitant, almost stuttering. “Azzi… I— I really need you. But, if… if you don’t want this, we can stop, okay? I don’t want to rush you or—”

Azzi’s heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. The hesitation in Paige’s voice, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes—it made something deep inside her ache. She couldn’t stand the thought of Paige doubting this, doubting them.

She cupped Paige’s cheek, her touch both soft and certain, her thumb brushing lightly over her skin. “Paige,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the wildfire in her chest. “You don’t have to worry. I want this. I want you… so bad.”

The words carried more weight than she expected, wrapping around them, filling the space between them. For a moment, Paige just stared at her, something vulnerable flashing behind those blue eyes before she let out a shaky breath. The tension that had held them so tightly for so long seemed to break, melting away as Paige turned her face into Azzi’s palm, pressing a lingering kiss there before threading their fingers together.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She closed the space between them, her lips meeting Paige’s in a kiss that was slow, deep, and unrelenting—full of every unspoken word, every bottled-up feeling, every ounce of longing they had been too afraid to voice. Paige responded just as desperately, her fingers tightening around Azzi’s like she never wanted to let go.

Their lips moved together with a newfound certainty, each touch infused with trust and desire, as if they were finally allowing themselves to embrace what had always been there. The hesitation that once lingered between them was gone, replaced by the undeniable pull drawing them closer. In this moment, nothing else mattered—not the world outside, not the doubts they’d once wrestled with—just the quiet, electric connection between them.

Paige’s hands found the hem of Azzi’s cropped tank top, her fingers brushing against warm skin as she slowly pushed it upward. She hesitated for half a second—giving Azzi the chance to stop her, to pull away—but Azzi only leaned in closer, her breath hitching as Paige tugged the fabric over her head and tossed it aside. The sudden cool air against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, but Paige’s hands were quick to chase the warmth, palms skimming over her back, pulling her in like she never wanted to let go.

Azzi barely registered anything else—the soft rustle of sheets as they shifted, the way Paige murmured something against her lips, or the way her own hands instinctively found their way to Paige’s bare skin. All she knew was the heat between them, the slow, intoxicating press of Paige’s body against hers, and the unspoken promise lingering in every touch.

The rest of the world faded away, leaving only them.

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

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #wbb

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coveofsecrets · 10 days ago

Note

the platonic burning spice x child reader fiction WAS SO GOOD. maybe you could do a part 2 pls? you don't have to! 🤍

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

"𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗"

-> Platonic! Burning Spice Cookie x reader

-> Warnings: Spoilers for Beast Yeast chapter 6, mentions of major character death, mentions of death

-> Word count: 966

-> waaaahahahahhaaa thank youuuuu <<33!! Not gonna lie, this was super challenging to do! Figuring out what Burning Spice would do as a character, and also his dialogue, was super difficult, but really fun! I hope you enjoy, Anon! This fic is a direct part two to this, so to understand this fic, please read the other one!

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Whispers in cracked corridors.

Rumors within dusty floors.

Stories spun along the breeze.

“Have you heard about the child Lord Destroyer’s been keeping?” Purple tail swaying, brushing against the owner’s fur.

“Yes…” Tongue flickering between fangs. “I have, but nobody’s allowed to see them, not even the general.”

“Well, I’ve seen the thing once, through the crack of their room door.”

“Really? What did they look like?”

“Weak.” A grunt. “Puny. If not protected, they would not survive even a second in this land.”

“Impossible! Why would The Great Destroyer allow a weak thing in his temple? There must be something about that child, if he's keeping it.”

“That’s what I’m thinking, too! Our lord prohibits any sort of interaction with that weakling, keeping them barred in there like a princess, so why does he have something like that?”

“Hmph. I’m not sure. Possibly untapped potential?”

“Plausible, but Lord Destroyer is not the kind of beast to recruit somebody for that…”

Red paws tapping against the floor, followed by a bark, “Are you two questioning Our Lord’s choices?”

The two squeak, “G- General-!”

“You both,” The Nutmeg Tiger growls, “I will not hear another word from either of you. The Great Destroyer’s thinking is something both of you cannot possibly comprehend, and for you to even try and grasp it is almost laughable. This could very well go for treason!”

“General, we weren’t meaning to go for treason-”

“Do not speak when you are spoken to, weakling!”

Purple mouth snaps shut, red eyes narrowing in almost defiance.

The tiger centaur pays no mind to it, instead choosing to continue. “Whatever Our Lord is doing, surely has reason behind it. I will not stand for you two questioning his divine plans. Is that clear?”

“Yes....” This time, the Cilantro Cobra speaks. “Our… apologies, general. We won’t do this next time…”

“Hmph.” A huff, “I hope you don’t. The Great Destroyer’s ideas are much greater than you lowlives.”

Burning Spice has no idea what he’s doing.

He should’ve killed you.

He should’ve crumbled your existence.

He should’ve laid waste to your form like he did before, once again leaving behind what he loved.

Yet, with his paranshu raised above his head, your eyes fearfully staring at the bright thing…

“Baba, baba!”

He remembers those same eyes looking up at him, as if he had hung up the stars themselves; your sweet voice calling for him as your bare feet violently pad over to reach their father.

God.

He couldn’t do it.

Burning Spice couldn’t kill his child.

No matter how much he wanted to, his body could not follow his command.

So what does he do now?

Burning Spice cannot kill you, so perhaps he could kick you out of here?

No, the spice storms will tear you apart.

If he lets you wander, his troops will reave your being.

Why does he care so much?!

His head has this horrible ache from all this thinking, so to make the confusing part of his brain happy, and to make this pain disappear, he sends you away.

To be more specific, he locks you in a room to which only a few cooks can come in to place food far away from you. Now, some part of him will be content, and also, he can stop looking at your pathetic self.

It takes months before he’s able to face you again.

Months before the Beast has to stop facing the present, and turn back to the past.

“Child.” Water hitting the sandy floors, he speaks. “Are you bored?”

…huh?

Sitting in front of this unfamiliar man, to the question, you pause.

Months of being held captive, with nobody except your own thoughts to keep you company, and when your captor speaks to you, it’s… this?

“Excuse?” You cannot help but ask for clarification, wondering if somehow you misheard.

To your question, though, the Beast’s eyes twitch. “I asked-” The sand starting to dry out- “if you are bored, child.”

Bored?

You heard right, which… only confuses you further.

“I am… confused on what you mean?”

“Do you need entertainment?” The desert is no longer blessed by the gentle touch of the rain, but it is not angry. “I presume that sitting in a room with nothing but your thoughts to occupy yourself is boring.”

Why is he asking that?

If you need entertainment?

What’s his goal?

You decide to echo your thoughts: “Why… are you asking that-?”

Only to be met with a scowl, lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth, the yellow things glinting off of the little light in the room. His eyes are narrowed, lashes blanketing red irises, barely concealing his fury. Soon, though, as if he saw something in your face, the creature forces his expression to flatten, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I would prefer-” he growls after a few seconds. “To not answer that question. All you need to know is if you’re bored. Is that clear?”

…huh… best not to press.

“Good. Now, answer my question: are you bored or not?”

“I… guess so, yes.”

Being stuck in a room for months on end, with nothing to do is not… fun, at all.

“Then what entertainment do you wish for?”

Entertainment?

You blink.

What entertainment is there? Actually, why is he asking if I must be entertained? Mm… I feel like I shouldn’t ask that.

“Conversation with you?” You eventually request, “I’d like to ask a few questions as to where I am.”

The beast’s nostrils flare, a corner of his lips twitching, but he acquiesces. “Alright. But if there is anything I do not wish to divulge, I shall not. Is that fair?”

Huh.

How easy.

Once again, you nod.

He's not being violent in me towards any way, and he hasn't made me do anything... if so, then why's he keeping me here against my will?

What does he want from you?

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #platonic cookie run #platonic cookie run x reader #crk #crk x reader #platonic crk #platonic crk x reader #burning spice cookie #burning spice cookie x reader #platonic burning spice cookie #platonic burning spice cookie x reader

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mari-lair · 4 months ago

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hello ! i love your fics and analysis! I was wondering which tbhk ships you think will become endgame?

Anon I have the most white bread of answers but since you asked-

1 - Hananene.

Nene starts the manga by wanting a date. It doesn't matter with who, any hot guy will do. She has many infatuations but isn't in love with anyone, she just want to be loved.

Nene has a lot of small character developments in different areas throughout the manga, but her strongest and most consistent change is her increasing love for Hanako and her acceptance of it.

She is still a girl with a ton of emotions, and she finds hot people attractive BUT now she want Hanako and only Hanako. She rejects everyone she used to have a crush on, there is no doki doki's when she gets the attention of pretty people cause they aren't the boys she wants attention from anymore.

Even Teru doesn't compare to Hanako. She went on a 'date' with him and felt more excited about bragging than the actual 'date'

AND SHE DID NOT BRAG when hanako got back, she just wanted to enjoy that he's back.

I don't even know why I am going so in dept on the couple stablished since chapter 1 but since i'm already rambling: Despite everything crazy going on in the festival NENE'S BIGGEST FOCUS WAS TO CONFESS TO HANAKO. That's something she thinks more about than her own death, like girl- Hanako is her whole world. She will not get a romance with another person.

There is the question of "Will Nene survive?"

If she doesn't, she'll disappear and have no boyfriend but I bet she'll be thinking about Hanako in her death. If she finds a way to become a supernatural in a very wild narrative choice she will be able to stay with hanako in their cursed eternity forever.

In the case she lives and Hanako gets exorcised she won't move on. Aidairo loves tragedies and obsessive love, so I can't see her approaching crushes with the same whimsy after her love dies. And Aidairo would likely preffer to make her suffer in her grief and longing than give her a rebound with some random guy, cause it sure won't be Kou.

2 - Mitsukou

My personal preferences aside, it is clear they are written to have romantic implications. Kou will either die with Mitsuba (As shown in the new timeline), and stay with him in death.

Or live to have an intense homoerotic 'friendship' with him.

He legit can't get mitsuba off his head, he thinks about him more than anything during the manga and he has A LOT of problems to think about.

I can't personally picture an explicit confession but we had a lot of equivalents already. It would be weird for Aidairo to send them to the aquarium, make Kou obsessed with mitsuba (and vise verse), show that they are 'very very close' in this new timeline, keep drawing them star-struck by each other and so on without romance in the head.

Kou is also never able to put his feelings into words, like, bro that's suspicious as hell.

They always get matching art with all the couples in Aidairo's twitter arts too.

That's not queerbaiting, they may not be explicit but by the lord they are not subtle at all, there is never a single "oh Mitsuba is like a brother to me" moment, they don't undo any of the gay implications we see, they double down on it.

Kou may be bi but it sure isn't the Nene route that Aidairo is playing.

3 - Aoikane

Akane has loved Aoi since he was a little kid. Waaaaaaay before he got a clock keeper contract.

He saw that Aoi cared so much about his opinion that she'd break out of her cold persona and burst into tears at the idea of being hated, and he locked in for life.

They are the codependent childhood friends troupe, the "I know you better than anyone" troupe, the "you are a part of my life I can't live without" troupe and they both love each other from the very start of the manga, not showing romantic interest in anyone else.

Nothing has made Akane change his mind about being with Aoi. Not being stabbed, not being rejected many times, not facing how bad aoi is at deling with her issues head on. He'll do anything for her time and time again.

in Akane's own words:

They had many build ups and a whole arc dedicated to their developments with each other (which is a lot considering they aren't main characters and Aoi usually get no focus in this manga.)

Narratively, it wouldn't make any sense to dedicate so many chapters pointing out how much they mean to each other and slowly working through their issues only to slap another ship at the end.

And is not like Aidairo said "They had their arc let's never talk about them again!", the author went out of her way to say "Even in a world where Aoi is in an arranged marriage, she still loves Akane"

They aren't subtle.

From the matching names, to the way they both crumble when they are separated from one another and keep thinking about marriage, they are very devoted. They have already explicitly confessed to the audience that they are in love with each other.

They'll either stay together forever or they'll die together.

#I wanted to put 'terukaneaoi' here but i gotta be realistic for once. Sorry teru i love you and i am down for being proven wrong on this #but i am 90% sure you'll end up alone #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #hananene #mitsukou #aoikane

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison."

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising.

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive.

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing.

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie.

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #stanford pines #grunkle ford #the axolotl #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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sallowedbethyname · 4 months ago

Text

to be home, to be loved, ch.1

pairing: sebastian sallow x reader (hogwarts legacy)

rating: mature (eventual smut)

themes: found family, friends to lovers, slow burn

summary: Eleazar Fig and Solomon Sallow died. Anne Sallow had disappeared. You, Sebastian, and Ominis tried as best as you can to move on, learn, and heal from everything that had happened. In an effort to keep Sebastian company and gave Ominis a new refuge after your fifth year at Hogwarts ended, you proposed an idea: the three of you living together in the house Professor Fig left you.

notes: am i too late to write fics for the infamous, the illustrious, the genius sebastian sallow when hogwarts legacy came out almost 2 years ago? probably, but that never stopped me before, so here it is!

read the full chapter on AO3

read chapter 2

It had been over a week since Spring arrived, melting white snow to make way for verdant green and vibrant colors. Hogwarts was lovely this time of the year, with blooming flowers and swirling butterflies softening the solemness of the castle. It was almost hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, you had been fighting for your life against Ranrok, shaking the very foundation of the castle. Yet Hogwarts still stood tall and majestic. Unshakeable.

Everyone called you Hogwarts’ Hero, but you wondered if they knew that your sleep had been plagued with vivid dreams of bright flashes of red, the memories of the Keepers, and the light fading from your mentor’s eyes as he drew his last breath. Who would've expected that you'd have trauma by the end of your fifth year? Certainly not you.

The teachers, bless their hearts, seem to be paying more attention to you these days. Even more than before, when they used to give you tasks and extra lessons to make up for lost time. Among them, Professor Weasley was the one who often reached out to you to inquire about your O.W.L preparations.

Curiously, though, the deputy headmistress didn't seem interested in your O.W.L or Field Guide today. Instead, she regarded you with a gentle, sympathetic expression as she handed you a thick envelope.

“I know the grief of losing Professor Fig must be too fresh for you, but with the year ending and… in light of everything that has happened recently, I'm afraid this cannot wait.”

You stilled in your seat, immediately assuming the worst. Had the remaining goblin forces taken arms again? A new enemy entering the fray? Or perhaps you weren't meticulous enough when locking away Isidora’s repository and some of the magic had leaked away?

Professor Weasley cleared her throat. “This is Professor Fig’s will. He'd entrusted this to me the night you fought Ranrok. I assume you knew that Professor Fig and Miriam had no children?”

“Yes,” you slowly replied, thinking back to the months before Hogwarts where Fig patiently taught you everything you need to know about magic.

What Professor Weasley said next made your eyes widen in surprise.

“Well… Professor Fig had decided to list you as his beneficiary. This means all his possessions now belong to you, including his house in London.”

“I— what?”

“It’s all stated in his will,” Professor Weasley nodded at the envelope before you, urging you to open it.

You hesitated. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and disbelief. You wondered if this is a setup. Perhaps Professor Weasley decided to give you a surprise test before O.W.L to really gauge your readiness? But what purpose would it serve? The deputy headmistress has no reason to trick you and even if she did, she wouldn’t resort to using Fig, wouldn’t she? It would be too cruel.

Still, the deputy headmistress was silent while you mentally hyper-analyzed your current predicament. Nervously, you reached out for the envelope, pulling out its contents with trembling hands. Complicated words jumped out at you when you unfurled the parchment. You weren’t really well-versed in legal phrases and languages, but as you read through the pages and saw the stamps and signatures that belonged to Fig, you realized that everything Professor Weasly said was true.

Professor Fig left you everything.

“I… This is…”

You could feel your eyes getting wet with tears but blinked them all away, refusing to let out even the smallest sob or sniffle. Not in front of Professor Weasley, at least. Professor Fig never really expressed any sort of familial affection to you. Any praise and encouragement mostly only came because of your aptitude for magic and quick thinking. Because of that, you assumed he only saw you as his student. You two hadn’t known each other that long, after all.

You flipped the pages and began to reread everything from the beginning and, to nobody’s surprise, nothing’s changed. The content of his will stayed the same.

But why, you found yourself thinking. A big wave of grief swept over you. A part of yourself secretly wishing Fig could’ve told you all this on his own. After all, despite everything, he had been the closest thing to a father that you’ve ever had.

Not for the first time, your chest swelled with rage towards Ranrok, though you know it was futile.

“I had the pleasure to talk with Fig not long after he discovered you,” Professor Weasley finally spoke with a gentle voice. “He told me how gifted you are, how he had never seen someone learn magic so quickly. He was very proud of you, dear. And I’m sure that sentiment only grew bigger until the very end of his journey.”

“I… I don't know what to say, Professor, I…” you stammered.

With a flick of her wand, a cup of warm tea appeared on the desk and Professor Weasley offered it to you. “Fig also told me that you were living in an orphanage. I suppose he hoped that, though he’s no longer with us, you can now have a home to return to aside from Hogwarts.”

You sobbed, unable to hold back the tears. Without wasting a beat, Professor Weasley was already at your side, rubbing soothing circles on your back. The warm gesture was appreciated, of course, but you tried your best to stop crying.

“Your mentor is a good man,” she said. “He had made sure that you’ll never live in want.”

“Truthfully, Professor, I don’t know if I deserved this. I…” you paused, rubbing your eyes with the sleeve of your cloak.

“Nonsense, you’ve done so much for the wizarding world. I know Fig, he wouldn’t have made this decision if he wasn’t sure,” Professor Weasley reassured her. “But… it's up to you, in the end, whatever you want to do with Professor Fig’s possessions. I advise you to sleep on it tonight before coming up with a decision.”

Your nose flared as you took a deep breath, blinking away the burn in your eyes. “Alright,” you said, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever. “I'll give it a thought. Thank you, Professor.”

The deputy headmistress nodded. “Well, I shan't keep you any longer. You still have classes to attend, after all. But rest assured, I'll always offer you my assistance should you need it.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Try as you might, you couldn't stop thinking about Fig’s will. You barely paid attention to whatever Professor Sharp was saying (you were pretty sure he was giving you disappointed looks the whole time) and, when class was finally over, you began walking aimlessly around Hogwarts, hoping the excursion could help you process everything that had just happened.

Of course, you had been giving some thought as to how you were going to spend the term break before your sixth year began. Natty and Poppy had also invited you for a sleepover at their houses. But, ultimately, you thought you were going to spend most of your time back at the orphanage, though you absolutely did not look forward to it.

But now, things have changed drastically.

You weren't trying to be ungrateful or petulant but… how many fifteen-year-olds out there got entrusted a house and a certain amount of wealth all of a sudden?

The details of Fig’s home trickled back into your brain as you recalled the few times you had been there. It was a simple two-story house with brick walls, cobblestone roofs, a garden filled with peculiar magical plants, and a chipper house-elf named Hobbs. The insides of the house were filled with books and knick-knacks from Fig and Miriam’s adventure. It was warm there. And quiet, detached from the hustle and bustle of London’s city center.

‘Wouldn't it be so empty if only Hobbs and I lived there? How can I even stay there when Professor Fig is already gone?’ you wondered, uncertain.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realize that one of the armors in the corridor had already broken down into pieces, its parts strewn messily across the floor, no doubt it was because of their usual fight. But this detail slipped your mind and, the next moment, you found yourself falling down to your knees after you tripped over what seemed to be an iron breastplate.

“Ow!”

“...Is that the Hogwarts' Hero I hear stumbling down the corridor?”

Cheeks reddening, you looked up to see none other than Ominis Gaunt standing in the middle of the corridor with his wand stretched forward, glowing red.

“Yup, it's me. And don't call me that,” you sighed before pushing yourself back up and casting Reparo to fix the armor. “Fancy seeing you all by yourself, Ominis, Sebastian's not with you?”

“He’s being held back by Professor Garlick.”

“What, did he make a student faint with a mandrake?” you asked as you inspected the repaired armor, satisfied with your work.

“Almost lost an arm from accidentally dropping his Chinese chomping cabbage.”

You winced. “That… didn't sound good.”

That did not quite sound like Sebastian as well. You may not have known him long enough, yet Sebastian was not exactly someone you'd call clumsy. No, he had always moved with certainty and confidence, with intentions behind each of his actions. Needless to say, he wouldn't have done something as foolish as accidentally dropping a magical cabbage that could tear one's limbs.

You turned to look at Ominis, half-surprised that he was still there.

“How is he doing?”

“He’s… managing, though I can sense that Anne's situation still bothers him greatly,” Ominis quietly answered, carefully picking his words. “But I believe that he has come to terms with it. Slowly making peace with everything.”

“That's good to hear,” you nodded.

Of course, like Ominis, you had been witnessing Sebastian making good progress. He seemed to be fully committed to the promise he made to you in The Undercroft a few days ago, and for that, you couldn't have been more relieved.

“Speaking of Sebastian, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about,” the blond-haired boy spoke again and it piqued your interest.

“Mm?”

“Not here, let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“...Alright, lead the way.”

You assumed he would lead you to The Undercroft, yet it seemed Ominis had a different plan in mind because the two of you had just made a turn that certainly did not lead to your secret base.

“Where are we heading?”

“The Black Lake,” he answered and your eyebrows shot up. “I’m unsure if this is something Sebastian should hear. Not yet, at least.”

You tilted your head to the side. This was certainly unexpected. After all, a good portion of your fifth year was spent doing unsanctioned and dangerous things with Sebastian, away from Ominis’ disapproving gaze. Now it was you and Ominis who were scheming together while keeping Sebastian out of the loop.

“This… was certainly a surprising turn of events.”

“You’re the only one I can turn to. And as to why, I'm sure you don't need a reminder.”

That shut you up. “Fair enough.”

It didn't take long before you reached the Black Lake. You held back a shiver when a chilly spring wind blew, mussing up the strands of hair that escaped your braid. Still, the sight of a verdant meadow after four months of pure white was very much welcomed. When you squinted, you could see the silhouette of the giant squid that lingered in the murky depth of the lake.

Ominis led you to a quieter, more secluded part of the lake and you followed, sitting next to him on the grass.

“So, what is it?”

“I know I said that Sebastian seemed to be doing alright, but… with the term break approaching, I can't help but worry for him. Anne is keeping her distance, Solomon's gone. Sebastian will be all alone.”

“Ah… that,” you hummed. “I've been wondering about that, too, actually. Of course, I don't know Sebastian as well as you do, but I wondered if he'd be okay going back to an empty home. I figured the grief would be too much.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I will just say it as it is. Aside from the grief, I worry he would try to do something stupid. Something we've agreed we'd help him put a stop to.”

An uncomfortable sensation pricked your skin, trailing down your spine. The faintest echo of Crucio that Sebastian cast on you back at Salazar’s Scriptorium. It was consensual, yes, you had asked for him to do it, but the pain was unbearable. It was as if you were being burned from the inside. As if a thousand knives pierced your skin over and over again. Your throat constricting on its own and breathing had been impossible.

Still, some days you wondered what was worse, the consensual Unforgivable curse or the anger he lashed out at you whenever he got too frustrated about his quest to find a cure for Anne.

‘Water under the bridge,’ you thought to yourself.

“I suppose you couldn't take him with you?”

“With me,” Ominis repeated slowly. “You’re suggesting that we bring Sebastian to a house where children are not taught but also encouraged to use the Unforgivable curses.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Curses aside, you know how I preferred not to stay in that house. I used to visit Feldcroft in the past, but now…”

There was an awkward silence for a moment as you realized it wasn’t just Sebastian who lost his family and home. Ominis also lost a shelter. You looked up towards the blue sky, wishing you could find someplace for your two friends. Perhaps the three of you could sneak and hide in the Room of Requirements for the entire term break. That wouldn’t be too much of a bad idea, would it? Wild, but… plausible? You certainly wouldn’t have any problems with it.

Absent-mindedly, you put your hand inside the pocket of your cloak. It was at that moment your fingers brushed against an envelope.

Professor Fig’s will.

Suddenly, another idea popped into your head.

“Something happened to me earlier.”

“Yes…?” Ominis arched an eyebrow, unsure of what it had to do with your current predicament.

“Professor Weasley gave me Professor Fig’s will. He had listed me as his beneficiary… which means all of his possessions, including his home, are entrusted to me. I’ve been to the house a few times before and… it was quite spacious. There were spare rooms available.”

Ominis immediately turned to face you. “Are you suggesting that Sebastian could live with you during our term break?”

“I— well…”

Now that you had said it, you realized how ridiculous you may have sounded.

“I know that you tend to come up with bizarre ideas, but would your family even be okay with this? Can’t imagine they’d be pleased if you suddenly came home with a boy.”

‘They probably wouldn’t… if they existed,’ you thought to yourself.

“Um… I sort of don't have one…”

“What do you mean you don't— oh,” Ominis immediately fell silent when he understood what you implied. The blond shifted awkwardly. “I must admit I have heard some rumors regarding your… family, but I didn’t dare to ask I…” he faltered. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t apologize. Really!”

An awkward silence stretched for a brief moment before he finally let out a sigh. “Well, that’s even more bizarre, then. A girl and a boy living together. Did it ever cross your mind that your idea is rather unconventional, if not, inappropriate?”

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Ominis did not have to make it seem more serious than it really was. The three of you were just friends and nothing more. You highly doubt that Sebastian would do anything weird. Besides, it’s not like any of you had a lot of options.

“I know… it was just—” you took a deep breath. “Look, I just thought we could all stay there. Yes, you included. There's enough room for everyone to have their own privacy and there’s also a house-elf, so it’s not like it’s going to be just us.”

Ominis still looked like he suddenly got his vision and saw that you actually have three heads instead of one.

“I don’t know what to say, thank you for the invitation? But have you considered the fact that there’s a possibility that something unwanted could happen?”

“Sebastian wouldn’t do that! And neither would you!” you replied with wide eyes, perplexed. “And even if any of you somehow did, which I highly doubt, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself.”

You were quite certain that Ominis didn't doubt you. After all, you did have the ability to wield ancient magical power and have successfully thwarted a goblin rebellion.

“Besides,” you took a deep breath. “I really don't know if I'm going to be able to live there with only a house-elf to keep me company.”

He paused. “Why is that?”

A rueful smile bloomed on your lips. “The silence would be too much for me to bear.”

“Ah…”

“A- anyway, you don't have to agree to my idea if you're uncomfortable about it. I was just thinking out loud… we need a place where one or the two of us can keep Sebastian company and you need a place to escape your family. I thought the house could be a good option.”

Ominis finally let out another defeated sigh. “You’re not wrong.”

Biting your lower lip, you inched forward, not wanting to put more stress on him. “I suppose there is a possibility that Sebastian would be completely fine living in Feldcroft alone and things would be the same despite… what had happened. At any rate, we wouldn't know unless we talked to him about it, no?”

“Yes, I suppose you're right,” he muttered. “We should talk to him tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

The Slytherin boy arched an eyebrow. “We're going to Feldcroft with him tomorrow, remember?”

Right. You remembered Sebastian asking you to go with him and Ominis to his cottage in Feldcroft. This would be his second visit after Solomon’s death and Anne’s disappearance. The first happened just moments after he learned of his sister’s disappearance. Suddenly, your chest felt heavy.

“Alright. We'll talk to him tomorrow.”

Ominis nodded. “I have to go back, Sebastian is probably searching for me already. Talk to you soon.”

“Me, too. I promised Natty we’re going to Hogsmeade together. See you, Ominis.”

He stood up and dusted his robe. His expression was unreadable.

“Despite everything that had happened,” he spoke again in a soft voice. “I’m grateful for all the help that you’ve done for Sebastian. I reckon it must’ve been hard for you, too, back then. I’m sorry, I realized there were times when I was being too harsh on you.”

The heaviness in your chest grew and though Ominis couldn’t see you, you still hid your face from him. A small part of you worried he could somehow sense the relief you were trying to suppress. Still, a treacherous part of you continued to wonder if Sebastian would still do what he did if you had made different choices. Had you, despite your best intention, unknowingly and foolishly led him into darkness?

You took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Ominis.”

That night, you dreamt about Isidora’s final repository, tucked deep beneath Hogwarts. Yet instead of locking it away, you absorbed it. Unknown, unlimited power coursing through your veins, taking you to a greater height.

You dreamt that you found Anne and, with that treacherous power, you broke her curse.

Feldcroft was as humble and quiet as the first time you visited it. The evening sun bathed the little hamlet in a warm, golden hue, enhancing the colors of the daffodils that grew all over the grassy field. It seemed to be more alive, with villagers loitering around merchants and children running across the meadows. With the goblin forces gone, peace had returned to the hamlet.

Beside you, Sebastian was staring at the idyllic sight with a hollowness in his eyes. The price of freedom surely had never been so steep. Feldcroft was safe, but Solomon was gone, Anne did not want to speak to him, and some villagers were eyeing him warily. There were rumors that the young Sallow boy had cast one of the Unforgivable curses during the last goblin attack. Opinions were divided, some thinking he should be thoroughly investigated, while others thought “Well, good riddance! He saved his sister!”

“Sebastian…”

“Come on,” the brown-haired boy said. “All this walk is making me tired.”

You glanced at Ominis, who seemed to be holding back as many emotions and thoughts as you did. Sighing, you followed Sebastian as he made his way home.

The Sallow cottage was in a slightly worse state, which wasn’t unreasonable, considering nobody lived there anymore. Sebastian hadn’t said anything about his desire to return, but the three of you came to the house anyway to keep it clean and well-maintained.

Solomon Sallow was laid to rest in a simple graveyard in the back of the cottage. Anne had told everyone in the village that he died peacefully in his sleep. Silence stretched as Sebastian stood before the grave, while you and Ominis stood a few feet behind him, watching. The brown-haired boy was still as a statue and you wondered what went through his mind.

But then he sighed and turned to face you, his face calm and eyes clear without a hint of tears.

“I'm done here. Let's get inside.”

With a flick of his wand, the door to the cottage opened easily. Inside, it was as if time was frozen. There was a glass on the table where Anne used to sit, the bed was unmade, an opened letter sitting on top of a nearby fireplace, and the windows were starting to collect dust.

“Well… let’s get to it, then. Nothing a few Scourgify can’t solve,” Sebastian said, trying to maintain a carefree attitude.

The three of you worked in silence, repeating the spell to clean any dust and dirt you laid your eyes on. You turned your attention towards the bookshelf by the window, noticing more opened letters were scattered on the shelves and the floor around it. You averted your gaze, not wanting to take a single peek at the content. One of them caught your eye anyway because it had your name written on it in handwriting you had grown familiar with.

Unable to resist the urge, you carefully picked it up from the floor. As you suspected, it was Sebastian’s letter to Anne, and he was talking about you.

Dear Anne,

Do you remember the new fifth-year I brought with me during my last visit? I forgot to tell you this, but she’s very strong. She’s capable of magic beyond our comprehension and she agreed to help us find a cure. I couldn’t be more grateful that I met her.

Wait for us, Anne. We will cure you, no matter what.

Sebastian

“You know, reading someone else’s letter is considered a breach of privacy,” Sebastian’s voice almost made you jump. You turned to find him already standing next to you, eyes fixated on the letter in your hand.

“I’m sorry. It had my name on it, I got curious,” you shook your head before tucking the letter back into the first empty envelope you could find and stuck it between the books.

“It’s fine. There wasn’t anything scandalous there anyway, thankfully. It was just me singing your praises,” he replied, a faint hint of playfulness lacing his tone.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, uncertain. You never did manage to use your power on Anne. It wasn’t like you knew how to reverse or break a curse — the Keepers didn’t give you much knowledge beyond how crucial it was to use your power responsibly — but you wished you could’ve at least tried.

“I’ve been thinking about reaching out to the Keepers again, now that they’re all present in The Map Chamber,” you finally confessed, picking your words carefully. “These past few weeks I… I’ve been trying to practice the ancient magic on my own, but it proved to be a bit difficult without a mentor. I just…”

You sighed.

“I still wanted to try, if you’re alright with it. To cure Anne, I mean. We… I… didn’t manage to try it before.”

Sebastian's eyes widened as he stared at you in surprise. “If I’m al— of course, it is alright with me! Goodness, after everything I’ve done you still—” he stopped himself, taking a steadying breath before continuing. “Thank you. I… you don’t know how much this means to me.”

A soft smile curved on your lips. “I’ll start working hard, Sebastian. Of course, I have to remind you that there is no guarantee that it will work. Isidora tried to remove pain and ended up creating a destructive force that she could not control. But I promise I will try. Figure something out. Find a middle ground that Isidora couldn’t.”

“And that is enough for me. Really,” he says, half-laughing, averting his gaze because he just couldn’t look you in the eye. The gratefulness he felt was just too great and raw he feared that you could spot it with just a glance. “Though, I suppose… we can only do that if we know where Anne is, can’t we?”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Yes, you’re right…” you trailed off before shaking your head and giving him a bright grin. “I believe she’ll come around. You didn’t lose hope back then, so let’s not lose it now.”

The weight of the unspoken fact laid heavy between the two of you: there was a solid chance that Anne wouldn’t return. Yet you chose to gloss over it for Sebastian’s sake. You also would like to believe that the bond between the twins was stronger than any adversities thrown at them, including their current predicament.

It seemed that Sebastian thought of the same thing because he smiled at you and nodded.

“I won’t.”

It took around three hours to clean the Sallow cottage until it was spick and span. By that time, the sun had set and the three of you decided to make use of the dining room to eat some desserts you had stolen earlier from Hogwarts’ kitchen.

“I find it a sacrilege that you knew how to get into the kitchen and not tell us,” Sebastian said with a mouth full of bread.

“Sebastian, for the sake of decorum, please swallow your food before you speak,” Ominis lamented, his face contorting in disgust.

“With all due respect, you cannot see me, Ominis.”

“But I can hear you, Sebastian, I'm not deaf.”

You found yourself smiling at their bickering. At moments like these, it was so easy to slip back into your normal routine, so easy to believe that everything was alright. No dark arts. No curses. No forbidden artifacts.

“I have to agree with Ominis on this one, Sebastian, it's gross.”

“See? She has spoken. Listen to her.”

The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes. Still, he finally swallowed his bread and you were grateful for that.

“You're saying that as if I never listened to you.”

Ominis let out a sigh that sounded as if he was a 500-year-old vampire who had grown extremely tired and weary of life.

“Cases where you listened to me are, unfortunately, rare.”

“Alright, alright. We can go to the kitchen tomorrow, I'll show you the way,” you interjected, worried that the discussion would lead to sore topics. “The house-elves were very friendly, I'm sure we won't have any trouble getting there.”

Sebastian grinned. “I know I can always count on you.”

Perhaps it was the playful glint in his eyes or the carefree smile on his lips, but his words made you smile. You tried to mask it by eating another mouthful of your cream puff.

“Though I have to say, bit of a shame I knew about Hogwarts' kitchen so late… but there's always next year, I suppose,” he spoke again.

You glanced at Ominis, and, as if sensing your gaze, the blond boy spoke.

“Speaking of Hogwarts, are you planning to stay here for this term break?”

There was a short silence. Sebastian leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling.

“I dunno,” he answered. “I suppose I could… but without Anne this house just felt…”

A pause. He shook his head.

“Well, if you're planning to stay here for the entire break like you used to, I guess it wouldn't be so bad,” he finished, nudging Ominis with his knee.

“I can't. Not for the entire period. The last time I did that, my lovely mother and father had been even more unbearable than they used to be,” Ominis said in disdain. “I must spend a few days or weeks at home, unfortunately, to prevent them from going rabid.”

“Darn it. I'm so sorry, that sounds horrible, Ominis,” Sebastian sighed.

“I agree, some people just… shouldn't be allowed to become parents,” you muttered.

“It was nothing I couldn't handle, as unfortunate as it sounds. But if it does get worse, I won't hesitate to make my escape. You’ll probably find me on your doorstep, Sebastian.”

The brown-haired boy let out a hum. “Escape, huh? These days I've been thinking about that, too. Going somewhere far away from Feldcroft, leaving this place for good…” he said with a faraway look in his eyes, imagining his perfect paradise. “But I couldn't abandon this place when I still don't know where Anne is. Feldcroft is… Feldcroft is the last thread that connected me to my sister.”

“Are you going to stay, then?” Ominis quietly asked.

“I dunno. Frankly, I don't like being here without Anne,” he replied before locking eyes with you. He smiled. ��What about you, ace? I reckon you'd go somewhere fun after your heroic deeds this year?”

Your heart leaped ever so slightly at the nickname. ‘Ace’, Sebastian often called you, because you always bested him in a duel, because of your terrifying and extraordinary skills. He used it teasingly at first. A way of getting under your skin or initiating a friendly banter. Now, there was a softness to it.

Though, you probably only imagined it.

“Oh, she's definitely going somewhere alright. Somewhere better than ours,” Ominis muttered.

“Somewhere better? What do you mean?”

“It's a bit of a long story. To keep things brief, Professor Fig made me the beneficiary of his will, meaning, all his possessions are now mine,” you explained. “I now have my own house.”

Sebastian's eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, brown eyes widening in surprise. “Beneficiary?” he repeated, utterly bewildered. “Woah, who would've thought? But I suppose it's not too outlandish, you were quite close with him and you saved Hogwarts. Well deserved!”

“It's a bit strange though, isn't it? I thought he would've picked a relative.”

“Maybe he doesn't have one and that's why he chose you. Could be anything, really,” he shrugged. His gaze momentarily shifts from you to Ominis. “Hold on, I didn't expect you'd tell Ominis before me. You wound me, ace.”

“This isn't a competition, Sebastian,” Ominis replied coolly, though you could sense a bit of amusement seeping into his tone.

“You were still caught up in Herbology class yesterday,” you explained with a shake of your head. “Didn't realize you're quite possessive.”

“I mean, I saw you first,” he said with a low chuckle, the simple action successfully made your treacherous heart race. “And I was the one who dragged you into this circle, so… without me, you wouldn't have been friends with Ominis.”

You let out a laugh and you could hear the other Slytherin boy let out a bored sigh. “It doesn't work like that.”

“Ominis is right. Besides, I remember you made him mad at me for a few days because you told me about The Undercroft. So, the way I see it, you sort of ruined Ominis’ first impression of me.”

“It was a betrayal of our pact,” Ominis nodded dramatically.

“The end justifies the means!” Sebastian retorted, raising both of his hands, a cheeky grin curving on his lips. “Anyway, Fig’s will. What are you planning to do with them?”

Holding his gaze, you sat up straighter, somehow feeling nervous about what you were about to say.

“This is just a thought. A random idea that came into my mind,” you started, greatly intimidated by the innocent way he tilted his head. “Fig’s house is rather spacious and… I don’t know if I could live there alone. Well, I suppose I won’t be alone, there’s a house-elf there, too. But I figure it would still be very, very quiet, with Fig already gone and all… I don’t know, the quiet just… unnerves me lately. So I thought… I’d like to invite the two of you to stay there, with me.”

“You’re asking us what?” Sebastian blurted.

Had this been another one of your mindless, silly discussions, you would’ve laughed at his dumbfounded expression. But unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“But we’re…” he took a panicked look at Ominis. “We’re boys!”

You let out a groan. “You’re saying that as if we hadn’t explored Salazar’s Scriptorium and spent who knows how long exploring goblin camps together!”

“That’s different!” he spluttered, absolutely flabbergasted. “This is… this is living together! Do you not have other friends?”

“I do, but they all have a loving and functional family, so I can’t exactly ask them!”

“I—” he was ready to retort, but you knew he knew there was no arguing that fact. Still, he shook his head. “And what about your family, huh?”

This time, Ominis spoke. “She’s an orphan.”

“She’s a— hang on. Again, how could you know this but I don’t?!”

“You never asked!” you quickly replied, almost impatiently. “But that’s beside the point. You asked me what I wanted to do with the house, well, that’s my idea, but it doesn’t mean I’m forcing any of you to do it. It’s just… a wild, random thought.”

Sebastian was still staring at you as if you had just encouraged everyone to learn Avada Kedavra and insisted that it was actually an ethical spell.

“I mean, I think you'd benefit from being a bit more cautious and careful,” he carefully said.

“Sebastian, I have the ability to turn you into a chicken. No offense, you're a great duelist, but I don't think you can harm me even if you wanted to. And I trust you wouldn't.”

“Of course I wouldn't!”

An awkward silence fell. You couldn't help but glare at Ominis for being awfully silent and unhelpful, before realizing he couldn't see you. Mentally cursing yourself, you began to speak.

“Anyway, it was just an idea,” you waved your hand flippantly, now eager to return to Hogwarts.

Yet Sebastian seemed to have a different opinion. “But you said you couldn't stand the silence and you're still grieving over Fig's passing.”

Your eyes met his and, for a moment, you feared he could look into your soul. He couldn't have possibly found a spell that gave him Dementor’s ability, could he?

“Yes,” you admitted anyway.

You and silence never really went hand in hand. The orphanage had been noisy most of the time. Bustling with a cacophony of children's screams, cries, and chatters. Silence used to be a respite you had often chased yet eluded you.

But things had changed. When the noises receded and the room grew quiet, your mind became unbearably loud. There were so many sounds and thoughts echoing in the back of your head. The sound of Avada Kedavra cutting through the air, the deafening crack as the stone ceiling collapsed above you, burying Fig’s body under its colossal size, the roaring of a dragon. Each night a different memory.

Before you, Sebastian shifted on his seat, his eyes carefully searching yours. “Well, it can't be helped, can it, ace? We'll go with you. Though, Ominis would probably tap out every once in a while because he has such a pleasant family.”

“I'll try to make my family visit as brief as possible,” Ominis murmured. “Anywhere is better than home.”

You stilled, not at all expecting them to agree. A part of yourself wanted to laugh at the turn of events. You and Ominis should've been the one giving support to Sebastian, yet the tables turned and now you were the one being cared for. Perhaps Ominis had orchestrated the flow of the conversation to keep Sebastian in the dark. You found yourself not minding it, though.

For now, you let yourself revel in the rare feeling of your friends coming to your rescue.

“Alright. It's a deal. No going back on your promises.”

“Of course,” Ominis replied, his voice soft, a gentle smile curving on his lips.

Sebastian locked eyes with you again and he grinned. “Wouldn't even dream about it.”

Time went by in a terrifying sleep. Somehow, you finished your O.W.L exams and your last day at Hogwarts had arrived. The Gryffindor table erupted in a loud, booming cheer when Phineas Nigellus Black, without masking his disdain, announced that they had won the house cup. You couldn't help but revel in your fellow housemates’ euphoria.

“Imelda Reyes was talking about how Slytherin would win the house cup,” Nellie Oggspire said conspiratorially. “I told her if Gryffindor didn't win, then the system is rigged and Hogwarts’ integrity should be questioned! You have saved this school and the wizarding world! I say that should warrant a permanent house cup victory for Gryffindor until the next seven years!”

It was a wild idea, but you found yourself not minding it. Besides, you agreed with Nellie.

“What's important is that we won,” Natty said, a satisfied smile blooming on her lips as she sat straighter than usual. She started picking up pastries from the table and placed them on your plate. “Now, I believe our hero should have her own feast!”

“Hear, hear!” Garreth whistled.

You let out a hearty laugh, happy at the absurd amount of pastries and desserts filling your plate. However, when your eyes caught the empty seat where Fig usually sat, an emptiness crept its way into your heart. Grief had been woken up from its slumber. You tore your gaze away and, somehow, it landed on the Slytherin table. Meeting with Sebastian's. He gave you a knowing smile and raised his glass. A silent acknowledgment, which you returned.

Still, the emptiness clung to your figure as you dragged your feet back to your room, where your neatly packed trunks had been waiting. For a moment, you stood there, casting your gaze around the room, determined to memorize every detail even though you would return in a few months.

“Hey, don't look too sad.”

You turned around to find Natty leaning against the doorframe, a sympathetic smile curling on her lips.

“We'll all see each other again in a few months.”

A sigh. You let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’m being sappy, aren’t I?”

Natty’s dark eyes crinkled in delight. “You’re not, this school tends to have that effect on people. And don't worry. I'll make sure to write you lots of letters. That way, you won't feel too lonely.”

The smile on your lips grew.

“Thank you, Natty.”

The journey to Hogsmeade train station was loud, as the students' chatter filled the air like the humming of a thousand bees. You managed to claim an empty thestral carriage for Garreth, Natty, Poppy, and yourself. As other students began to fill the remaining carriages, you spotted Sebastian and Ominis in the crowd. Quickly, you raised your hands, calling out to them.

Soon enough, your carriage was filled with familiar faces. The faces of your first friends in Hogwarts. Some roped you into trouble, some helped you achieve the unimaginable. All of them you cherished.

“Huh, I think this is my first time seeing you joining the train ride to London, Sallow,” Garreth was the first to speak, eyeing the brown-haired boy curiously.

Sebastian's eyes locked with yours for a fleeting second before he cleared his throat. “I'm moving somewhere closer to London this year.”

Garreth hummed in acknowledgment. Silence blanketed the carriage for a moment, only broken by the huffing of the thestral and the sound of the wheel grounding against wet soil.

“I'm sorry about your uncle,” Poppy finally spoke with a gentleness akin to the caution one might show when approaching a wounded puppy. “First Anne and now your uncle… you've been through a lot.”

This time, Sebastian avoided your eyes, but you could somewhat feel the tension in his body. Feldcroft was not at all far from Hogwarts and words traveled far. Condolences had been given, as everyone, just like the villagers in that little hamlet, believed that Solomon Sallow died of natural causes. The gruesome truth was only known by you, Sebastian, Ominis, and Anne, and all of you guarded it close to your chests.

“Thank you, Poppy, I appreciate it,” Sebastian replied with a hollow smile that did not quite reach his eyes, an expression that could be easily mistaken as grief.

“How's Anne? Is she coming with you to London?” Natty asked.

You opened your mouth, wanting to interject, worried that the innocent question would only rub more salt into Sebastian's wound. But to your surprise, the boy was smiling earnestly. His eyes reflected just the right amount of sadness. Enough to make everything believable.

“Anne is in France with one of our great aunts. She moved there after Uncle Solomon passed away. It was a tough decision, but… we agreed it was for the best.”

“I see…” Natty replied, completely none the wiser. “Well, I wish only the best for you, Sebastian. I know how much you care for your sister. I hope that one day, you'll be able to find a cure for her.”

This time, Sebastian faltered. From his side, Ominis inched forward, opening his mouth, no doubt eager to change the topic, worried about how it would affect Sebastian.

Yet before he could say a word, Garreth spoke.

“I believe you will find that cure, Sallow,” he said plainly, simply, as if stating that anyone with a brain can brew an Edurus potion. “What? This world is a big place and magic is a boundless thing. I'm pretty sure it's out there somewhere. If not now, perhaps sometime in the future.”

“I think this is my first time hearing you saying something so wise, Garreth,” Natty said in amazement. “I did not know you had it in you.”

“Rude!” Garreth retorted, feigning a hurt expression. “I'll have you know that this brain of mine contains a multitude of new potion recipes ready to be tested! You think I am incapable of weaving pretty words?”

“It's a bit hard to imagine that when you regularly blow up your cauldron, to be honest,” Poppy said, grimacing.

“And stealing from Professor Sharp's ingredients vault,” Ominis spoke for the first time, half-amused, half-relieved to fuel a new topic that did not concern Sebastian, Solomon, or Anne.

Garreth protested, yet his voice was drowned by Natty and Poppy’s laughter. As your friends recounted more of his shenanigans, you locked eyes with Sebastian once again. His expression was soft, akin to relief. You tilted your head to one side, pink lips curling into a lopsided smile, which widened when he mirrored your actions.

No words were spoken, but you knew he found comfort in Garreth's words, and for that, you couldn't have been more relieved.

It was almost sunset when the train arrived at King’s Cross Station in London. Students flooded out of the train, ready to be reunited with their families, ready to go home. Poppy found her grandmother in the crowd and you could hear her delighted squeal as she wrapped the older woman in a big hug. Garreth went his separate way not long after. You noticed him being welcomed by a group of people, all having almost identical red hair and the same kindhearted look. Must be the Weasleys.

“Well, here we are, London,” from your side, Sebastian hummed. “Where to now?”

“The house is on the outskirts of the city. I think it's best if we take a carriage there. What do you think, Ominis?” you asked, turning to the blond-haired boy who had been rather quiet throughout the entire ride home.

To your surprise, Ominis looked exhausted. You looked down to find him nervously fiddling with his wand.

“My mother’s helpers are here. I can sense them,” he quietly said, dipping his head low. “I suppose this means I have to go see my parents first.”

“Oh…” you stilled, unsure of what to do.

If it were up to you, you'd waste no time whisking him away and maybe transfigure this helper into a chicken. The rest of his family, too. Good riddance. Yet you knew it wasn't what Ominis wanted. You probably couldn't do it either. Plus, you'd rather not get involved with the authorities, lousy as they were.

“We understand, have a safe trip, Ominis,” Sebastian said, patting the boy's back. “Let us know if you need us to kidnap you from that hell hole.”

Ominis tried to smile, but it came out strained.

“Thank you, but I'd rather you not go anywhere near my family. I don't want them to taint any of you,” he turned towards your direction. “Especially you, since we know nothing of your blood status.”

“...I understand. Please, be careful, Ominis.”

He nodded. You couldn't help but find how drastically Ominis changed in a matter of seconds. The sweet, gentle Ominis always seemed to glow when he was in Hogwarts. His smile was relaxed and his voice soft. A serene look on his face whenever he dozed off in class. Yet now, his light had been dimmed out. Eyebrows furrowed, hands couldn't stop picking on his fingernails. He looked terrified.

“I will,” he said anyway. “Be on the lookout. I honestly do not know how long I must stay at that torture house… but I'll try to join you as soon as I can.”

Sebastian patted Ominis' shoulder once again, this time giving it a firm squeeze. “Stay safe, and I mean it, call us if you need some help to escape.”

“I will. Don't worry. I have my ways,” the blond-haired boy said, relenting. He took a deep breath and placed both hands on his trolley. “See you again. And don't do anything weird when I'm gone.”

“We won't. Not too much, at least,” Sebastian replied, amusement lacing his tone.

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear the last sentence,” Ominis huffed. He stood there for a moment, still facing the two of you. “Well, I better get going.”

“See you, Ominis.”

The Gaunt boy nodded. His expression was grim. But he adjusted his bag handles and pushed his trunk towards one of the exits. True to his words, you could see about three wizards waiting there, all dressed in black. They crowded around Ominis as soon as he was close enough, taking his belongings away from his hands to carry them on their own. No doubt it was how the heir of an important, old-money family should be treated. Yet you couldn't help but think your friend looked like a caged dove. There was a weight on his shoulders that wasn't really there before.

“He'll be alright. We've done this a couple of times before. Don't worry,” Sebastian said, nudging you with his elbow.

“Right,” you sighed and looked around the still-crowded station. “Let's go, then, but make sure nobody sees us. I'd rather them not ask any questions or worse, spread gossip.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Bit too late to consider that detail, don't you think?”

“Oh, shut it.”

Quietly, away from everyone's eyes, you and Sebastian slipped away, but not before casting one last glance at the view behind you. At the train, at Natty, Poppy, and Garreth, laughing as their families welcomed them home, hands laced together. At Ominis’ disappearing figure.

“You coming? I don’t mind leading but I kind of don’t know the way.”

You turned to find Sebastian leaning on his trolley, looking at you with an arched eyebrow, a playful smile tugging on his lips.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Follow me, country boy.”

“Lead the way, city girl.”

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #karinawrites

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sadistic-kiss · 30 days ago

Text

Use Me (Kinktober Fic)

Succubus Reader x Various JJK Men

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Eleven.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Toji was livid.

You had been running him around like a damn chicken with its head cut off!

~First, it was the bounce house…

“Toji~ Come bounce with me~.” You waved at him with a cute smile. You were dressed like a sexy bunny, hopping around with floppy ears.

When he crawled into the bounce house- that was more like a gigantic maze- he thought he had you, but he could never get his hands on you! You would giggle and then disappear right before he got you. Leading him to dead ends and then running behind him in another direction. He got so fed up that he took out his blade and began to stab the bounce house as everyone inside screamed, trying to escape the deflating prison.

~Then it was the bubble run…

When he ripped himself out of the plastic, he caught sight of you skipping toward the field of bubbles, dressed in some sexy magical girl costume with a tiny skirt.

He chased after you and got lost in the sea of bubbles.

“Toji~”

“Over here~!”

“Are you even trying to catch me~?”

You would pop in and out like a ghost, making him dizzy.

After a good minute of that bullshit, he found the stupid bubble machine, kicked it to bits, and then sent it flying over the trees.

~Then… there was the fucking pool incident…

He was downright seething, ignoring the copies of you that he knew he couldn’t catch. The real you wasn’t here.

He had to find you.

“Toji~?”

“Don’t you want to play with us?”

“Where are you going?”

Your magical girl and bunny clones followed after him, trying to pull him in a different direction, which had to mean he was going the right way.

Walking through the crowd of people, he looked around very carefully. You would probably be somewhere trying to get food.

Duh- it was seriously that simple.

Scouting the backyard, he was about to go inside, but then he stopped, spotting you talking to a group of people.

You were dressed in a sexy mermaid bikini, smiling and nodding as you engaged in your conversation with what he assumed was your next treat.

You looked toward him and gasped, trying to run. That made him even more energized. This was the first time you seemed shocked!

“Got you!” He growled, charging for you. He wasn’t gonna let you get away this time!

This had to be you!

“Oh no, you- woah!” Just as he flung toward you, you had disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was flying… diving right into the pool with a big splash.

Everyone was laughing as he popped back up with a growl. His gaze was locked onto your three clones, who were giggling within the crowd. Swimming to the edge of the pool, he paused. A sweet… savory smell… touched his nose. Taking a deep breath, his eyes darted upward where Choso’s room was located. The window was open, letting out the fragrance of his favorite meal.

“Hey, you need help?” Someone offered their hand.

“No…I’m good now.” He jumped out of the water. He stalked his prey with the determination of a hound.

~Present~

So yeah, Toji had quite the night.

And he had his reasons to be mad at you.

Despite this, as he dragged you down the hall with your hair within his grip you did not feel fear but pure excitement.

‘Oh, I’m about to get so fucked.’

That thought made your minions giggle.

“You think this is funny?“ Toji stopped as he twisted your head so you could look up at him.

You poked out your bottom lip and tried to fix your eyes as sad as possible, “I’m sorry~.”

“You made me lose out on a bet, and not to mention this.” He pointed downward, and your eyes followed to see the large tent underneath his costume.

You swallowed the drool that threatened to escape your lips. Your Bunny girl clone began to drool, but the mermaid you elbowed her.

You were all in trouble here. Every last one of…well-you.

However, you only started all of this because of what he did earlier!

Looking up at him, you voice your defense, “You started it first, you flushed my treat!”

“Mhm~”

“So mean…”

“You teased us first.”

Your clones spoke up like an angry mob of yous.

Toji grinned wickedly, “Is that what this is all about?”

You give him a slight nod.

“Fine. Let me give you that treat after I punish you for your little stunt.”

Oh, sweet heavens~

You were about to say something, but then you caught sight of the door that led to your supposed room.

Toji noticed your distracted gaze and looked to see what it was you spotted.

He chuckled, “Who told you? Was it Yu?”

“Told me what?”

You received a quick swat to your ass making you squeak.

“Don’t be a brat. Who told you about the room?”

“Uh- Nanami-“

Toji snorted, “That’s the answer you want to go with?”

“Maybe…” You couldn’t hide your excitement, and you think that lessened his need to punish you for lying. “…Can I see it?”

“It’s not ready yet.”

“I…have an idea how I want it to look.” You smile already configuring the room to your liking. So as soon as Toji opened the door, you were greeted with the place fully furnished and decorated just as you imagined.

You were released as you stepped into the room to admire what was soon to be real.

“Cute…” Toji commented as he stepped in, “…you will need to write a list of all of this down- aye-Where do you three think you are going?” Your clones were about to skip off to cause more havoc, but they stopped at Toji’s comment.

“Uh-“

He reached out to pull all three of them into the room. “Bed, all of you.” Toji snapped while pointing.

You were so giddy about the room and what was to cum- you had to do your best to remember that Toji was ‘mad’ at you. You had to hold in your giggles as all four of you ‘groaned’ walking toward the bed. Climbing on top of the bed you positioned your ass in the air, chest to the blanket. You already knew what he wanted.

You could hear him shedding his wet clothes off, dropping them into the corner. You took a peek to see that monstrous length that had you shivering. Your tail couldn’t stop swishing in excitement. So you had to play your part with your words.

“I’m sorry sir~ I didn’t mean to make you lose out on money.”

“Yeah, we are sorry~!”

A slight gasp left your lips as Toji flipped over the skirt of your magical girl clone.

“Oh, I know princess.” Toji’s tone was nothing more than lustful excitement. You could tell he was trying to pace himself so he didn’t dive right on in. He was savoring this. He squeezed the fat off your ass, toying with you. He then reached over to tap your bunny clone's ass. She squirmed, your need bleeding out. “Be still.” He demanded.

She mewled but otherwise went still as his hand groped her ass in any way that pleased him.

You could tune into your clones all at once, feeling everything at the same time. It was tough to do when fighting and even horrible if they got hurt, but during intimate moments, it made everything more heightened. You felt a lot more dizzy being so mentally spread out, but in a good way.

It was a euphoric feeling to go through.

Usually, you’ve only done this when you were with two or more of them at the same time, sometimes in the same room or different places. Never like this though.

Did Toji truly think he could handle four of you?

That was silly! Perhaps you should voice such concerns!

“Toji, I’m not sure if this is a good idea…you shouldn’t play with all of me-“

Smack!

“Ah~” You flinched as his hand smacked your cheek.

“Let me worry about that. Hmm…let’s see…I lost out on about fifty dollars. So that will be…um…uh…”

“Twelve and a half?”

“I was getting there- but yeah, we will just go with twelve each. Since I’m feeling nice.”

You poked your head up a bit, “Does that one count for me?”

“Nope. It starts now. Make sure you count for me girls.” With that, he began his little punishment.

Each smack had you groaning, no matter if it was you or your clone, you could feel it all. He would smack one ass and then bounce to the next and the next, finding a sort of playful rhythm. You didn’t shout out the number until he slapped the last one, and all of you spoke in unison-

“One! We are sorry Sir~!”

Toji was loving it. He grinned the whole time, enjoying the jiggle of your ass. Each one of you in a different sexy costume, making a different kind of noise or face. All of them are his favorites.

What’s better than one of you? Four of you!

…The punishment went on until you reached ten-

“Ah~ Ten- we are sorry~!”

Toji had to stop for a second squeezing his cock, he was aching to be inside you. He could see your juices leak past each costume. He had so much to feast upon- It was hard to decide which one he wanted first. He just had to go for the one that was in front of his face, which just so happened to be the bikini-dressed clone.

Pulling her swimsuit down, he dove in tongue first.

You all released a scream, your thighs squeezing tight as you felt Toji’s tongue ravage your cunt. Yet he didn’t stop there. He reached over to your skirt and slipped two fingers passed the fabric so he could toy with you as well. Your mind was drowning in pleasure, feeling the thrust of his fingers along with his tongue had you breathing heavily. Just this was driving you insane. Your other two clones moaned, reaching down to put pressure between their legs.

You don’t even think a minute went by before you all screeched and came at once.

Your bikini clone fell forward, shivering in post-orgasm. Toji didn’t give you any time to breathe. He flipped her over and then grabbed you, smooshing you on top of yourself.

“T-toji-ah~wait- aaah~!’ You cried as he pushed his cock into your mermaid clone.

All of your eyes rolled as you felt the intense stretch of your pussy.

Though he wasn’t inside of you, you fluttered around nothing, feeling the pleasure through your clone. You all could feel it.

“Wait? Tch- you gonna tell me how I shouldn’t fuck you? I already told you I’m fine. I’ll let you go when I’ve had my fill.” He released a chuckle as he snapped his hips forward without enough prep. The mermaid you was moaning nonstop digging her nails into your back as Toji fucked her relentlessly. He then pulled out and slammed into you, making your bite into yourself. It was like he couldn’t choose which one he wanted to be inside, switching to your pussy and then the clone, giving you guys equal treatment.

All of it pleasurable and dizzying.

He didn’t forget about your other clones either. He grabbed your magical girl clone and pulled her into a wet kiss. He then flicked his fingers at your last clone, telling her to come closer, which she did with excitement. Snatching down her top he swapped from kissing one of you to sucking the tit of the other. All while keeping up the thrust of his hips.

A man of talent, he was.

Your mind split into four as you felt everything that was going on- from being fucked- to being kissed- from having your breasts teased. It was all too much. You couldn’t think straight.

“AH!” You all cried as you came for the second time.

Toji released a little growl as he quickly pulled out from your spamming cunt.

“I’m not gonna let you off that easily.”He jumped onto the bed. “Get up here so I can feed you, that’s what you wanted right?”

Your clones were scrambling to get more, but you tried to reason with him (as best as you could while also climbing over) because if he died, you weren’t going to hear the end of it! What are you feasting on?! You hadn’t a clue as to what the exchange was, but Toji didn’t get tired until Toji was tired. Which was scary, how did you know when enough was enough?!

“Toji… maybe we should…um…” You were stuttering, losing your train of thought as Toji began to make out with your three clones. Hands were everywhere, a big love pile of you and Toji- it was hard not to feel so lost in the lust. His big cock within your hands, you could feel every vein and every pulse, his greedy hands upon you seeking to make you cum again and again. You didn’t want to kill him, so you tried to make one more valiant effort. “Mmm~” You moaned, body trembling. “I-I ah-don’t want to kill you…hmm..”

Toji broke from a sloppy kiss and grabbed you by your arms dragging you over to the love mess, “You let me worry about that sweetheart, the only thing that should be on your mind is riding my cock.”

Lifting you right above his tip, you released a choked gasp.

He grinned, knowing that you were drunk off pleasure. “Can you manage that pet or do you need help?”

You nodded your head, “I can-I can handle it-oh Toji-“

You let out a moan as he stretched you more than a normal human being would feel comfortable with. Either Toji was lucky or unlucky- because having a cock this big scared a lot of women away. It was very hard for him to actually fuck anyone because it took way too much prep work (he was lazy) and normally the only people that could take him were pornstars. It was nice to have his partner in immense pleasure instead of awkward pain. Being able to fuck you with no restraints is well worth the risk of dying. (In Toji’s mind).

“Fuck- You feel so good-“ his eyes rolled as he laid back, “-get that pussy up here too, I wanna eat you out while you ride me.”

One of your clones threw her leg over Toji, ready to ride his face till dawn.

At first, you were doing a good job riding Toji, but then the added sensation of being eaten out had you drooling and panting. Your hands rest on his chest as you grab your own hands and cry together with pleasure. Both of you could barely focus on doing your assigned jobs.

“Come on now-“ Toji lifted your hips while glaring down at you, “- you said you could do it.”

“C-can’t- t-too much-too much-“ You murmured while twitching.

“Ha- the succubus that claims it’s too much, can’t believe I’ve found your weakness.” He tapped one of your other clones on the sideline, “You help yourself cum…-and you…use my hand until you cum.” He grinned evilly, knowing all of this would really drive you crazy. He truly did find your weak spot, and now he was going to exploit it- he was pure evil! “Get to work ladies.”

Once you all got into position, the pleasurable torture continued.

You were aiding yourself, using all your strength to help the ride, going numb upon Toji’s large cock, another part of you was riding Toji’s hand, gripping his wrist, while another part of you was being ravished by this hungry man. All of you were a crying mess of pleasure.

Trembling and shaking until you came.

It was a chorus of cries as you collapsed, feeling used up.

Toji pushed your clone off his face and flipped you over so he could press you into the bed. His lips met yours and then he was driving his cock deeper inside you as you spasmed around him. Your clones were crying out your pleasure that was silenced by Toji. The way he was thrusting into you was like a wild bull. It was all too much, so much so that you lost your clones and the illusion of the room. The two of you were just on the floor of an almost empty room, which didn’t matter to him or you.

Sweat and your juices clung to his body as he chased his release.

Then with one final snap he growled and pushed deep into you, you felt your body explode with heat as his cum filled you up. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and then you blacked out.

You gasped awake, panting heavily as you blinked your eyes a few times. Your body was buzzing with energy. You felt like how Yu gets when he drinks way too many energy drinks. You felt like you were going to burst.

“Woah…” Toji commented next to you.

You sat up to look at him, he was lying back on the floor with scratch marks all over his body, his lip was also bleeding, most likely from your fangs cutting into him.

“What?” You question him, no longer holding back your true voice.

“…Nothing…” You noticed his wary gaze upon you as he slowly sat up.

Getting up, you find a half-covered mirror and move the cloth from it.

Within the reflection, you could see what had him worried.

Your eyes were bright, your horns were so long they began to curl, your wings were thick and powerful, and your tail was sharper. Nails long and hair as healthy as can be. The markings on you were drawn out on your entire body, and it glowed beautifully, always moving like it was alive.

You felt fucking amazing.

You looked fucking amazing.

You began to giggle and then you began to laugh heartedly as you touched your face and body lovingly.

You felt alive.

Still giggling like an evil villain, you strut to the door and waved your hand as it opened with grace.

“Thanks for the meal Toji~”

And with that, you left the room, leaving the man looking dumbfounded.

“Fuck…” He cursed before flopping backward.

Maybe they overfed you tonight.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Twelve.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

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katsfixationcorner · 2 months ago

Text

Sleepless Nights

tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Chapter One

Next Chapter

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is struggling to put his life together after the Blip. Free from HYDRA’s control, he now has the freedom of choosing how he lives his life but he has no idea how. He’s somehow managed to maintain moderate normalcy but his constant nightmares serve as a reminder that he could never be anything more than a killer. Before he can truly heal, he needs to deal with his lack of sleep, which proves difficult until a chance encounter intertwines his life with that of his neighbor across the hall.

Warnings: Slice of Life, Canon-divergent, Slow-burn, Friends to Lovers, Neighbors Trope, Depictions of trauma, Mild Stalking, No use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I’m not a mental health professional. All trauma/mental illness depictions are based on my personal knowledge/experience. If any depictions are incorrect or misrepresented, kindly educate me.

This is my first fic! I hope you enjoy~

I do NOT consent to have my work copied, translated, or run through AI.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Change makes James ‘Bucky’ Barnes uncomfortable. He’s trying his best to be okay with it but he still has a very lengthy list of things he’s trying to work through. Dealing with change isn’t exactly at the top.

When things change, bad things happen. It always starts with the small things normal people don’t notice: a mailbox gets left open, a neighbor’s doormat gets skewed, the subway train he takes to his therapist appointments is five minutes late.

Then it escalates. It always escalates.

Instead of random instances, it manifests in the people around him: the neighbor’s dog barks at a late hour, a nondescript van parks on the street outside his apartment complex, a stranger gives him a second glance at the grocery store. It’s always the things that other people don’t think twice about that Bucky can’t ignore. When he ignores them -when things slip by his radar- people around him get hurt or disappear.

Now when you live in an apartment building people disappear all the time. People move out frequently. Just this month alone Bucky has already noticed several people he doesn’t recognize walking to and from his building.

It’s unnerving.

Unsettling.

Bucky likes to keep tabs on those around him. When he can’t, bad thoughts flood his mind like a running faucet filling a bathtub. Who are they? What do they do? How long will they be around? Or worse things like: Do they know who he is -who he was? Do they know which unit he lives in? Has he bolted the front door? What about the windows? If he has to make a run for it, could he make the jump to the building next door?

Sometimes the bathtub overflows, spilling his thoughts out of his head and into his bloodstream. When that happens, he freezes, unable to do anything more than sit with his back to a wall and his eyes glued to his front door. His small apartment becomes enemy territory. Every sound -no matter how mundane- explodes in his ears and triggers violent involuntary tremors. His entire body goes into lock-down mode as he prepares to defend against a non-existent threat. It often takes hours for Bucky to recover the ability to move let alone care for himself.

He doesn’t go anywhere on those days, even if they happen to interfere with his schedule.

Bucky likes his schedule: morning workouts, grocery shopping every other Monday, lunch with a friend on Wednesdays, therapy on Thursdays. It isn’t much but it makes him feel normal, like he’s a regular person who isn’t still trying to heal from a lifetime of trauma. Every other day, Bucky stays at home trying to catch up on things he’s missed and doing his damndest to get through the day without losing it.

Not even the promise of sleep offers him any sort of respite. The night only gives way to new terrors, the kind he can’t escape no matter how good a day he’s had. Nightmares -flashes of blood, pain, and an innocent person’s pleas- overtake him every time he beds down for the night.

Nothing helps - and he’s tried everything. Thanks to the serum, his body devours medication, alcohol, and other nasty habits he’s given into too quickly to feel any effect. The TV -though helpful at first- has become more annoying than useful. Leaving a window open to let in the city ambience isn’t an option, and the thin apartment walls won’t mask any music he has on for long. At least not at the volume needed to make any meaningful impact in his sleep schedule.

He doesn’t even have a stereo.

Most nights the nightmares wake him violently, bolting him upright so suddenly his torso jerks forward and his breath gets caught in his chest.

Tonight is no different.

After a particularly distressing one, Bucky finds himself woken by his own choking gasps. As he struggles to regain control of the air flowing into his lungs, Bucky presses his hands against the floor underneath him. The blanket between him and the wood is thin and scratchy. In an effort to still his breaths, Bucky slides his flesh hand across the fabric, picking absently at the tiny lint balls dotted along the blanket folds. The soothing action is safe enough to direct his mind towards; it carries no weight nor threatens to trigger any locked memory.

With every passing minute, Bucky’s breathing becomes less strained and more manageable. He tries to turn his attention to the room around him. The living room is dark, the moonlight streaming through the thin blinds being the only source of light in the room. From what he can see into the kitchen, nothing seems off or disturbed. Both areas are bare with only the essential furniture. There’s no dining table, though there is one barstool in the kitchen. The sofa, coffee table, bookshelf, and TV are all in their usual locations.

Taking note of his surroundings starts to help Bucky regulate his breathing. Just as he was regaining composure, Bucky’s body flinches suddenly as he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He tenses, pulling his knees up to his chest as he prepares to roll out of the way of an attack. Though as his eyes adjust, the silent assassins morph into shadows dancing across the kitchen counters.

He lets out a breath and leans against the cool leather of the sofa. Bucky does his best to redirect his mind to the room. He can see the front door now. It’s still dead-bolted. Good. Maybe he can actually get through the night with only this mild incident.

But as his panic turns from a roaring fire into simmering embers, the memories begin to seep into his mind threatening to reignite the blaze.

The wall suddenly seems way too close. Screams and gunfire begin trickling into the stillness of the dark apartment. The sound starts at a low hum in the back of his mind. But before long it grows into a roaring avalanche threatening to bury him under the weight of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky groans out a swear as he drags his hands down his face. He grips his head tightly as if he can keep the torment at bay with pressure. It doesn’t help. The panic threatens to return, forcing Bucky to make a decision: either try to relax and go back to sleep or do something about it.

After barely a second of thought, Bucky concludes there’s no way he can sit still. Before he pushes himself off his makeshift bed, he extends his legs until they burn from the stretch, grimacing at the stiffness caused by sitting still for a while. He eventually detangles himself from the bed sheet then manages to pull himself up.

Without thinking about it, Bucky wanders in the direction of the bathroom. The cramped enclosed space provides a more secure environment than the living room. Bucky feels like he can breathe a bit better in here. The screams that followed him, however, won’t let him rest.

With his body still on autopilot, Bucky pulls back the shower curtain and turns the water on, not caring about what temperature it’s been set to. As the screams get muffled by the running water, Bucky stumbles his way to the sink, gripping the edges tightly as he leans into it. He lets a minute pass before he forces himself to look up at his reflection.

Bucky looks awful. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and unkempt stubble make how little he’s been sleeping obvious. Even his eyes -usually a cool steely blue- are muted and grey. Scars litter his shoulders and torso, evidence of a tortured past etched into his skin. Even if -by some miracle- he came across someone who wasn’t aware of what he’s done, they’d know the second they saw how destroyed his body is.

He can only stomach a few seconds of glaring before his gaze drops to the dog tags around his neck. He doesn’t like who he sees. It’s been such a long time since he has that he’s not even sure he ever thought differently. When he looks at himself, all he ever sees is a man broken beyond repair - the shattered remnants of a soldier HYDRA ripped apart.

The rushing water pulls Bucky out of a new set of spiraling thoughts. He makes an attempt to shake them away before straightening up to peel off his sweat soaked boxers. They get tossed into a corner as Bucky steps into the shower.

Bucky doesn’t spend a lot of time under the water. He doesn’t even wash much, only enough to get rid of the layer of sweat on his skin. Once it’s gone, he feels a bit better. The water becomes cold rather quickly (not that it was very warm to begin with). By the time Bucky decides to get out, his teeth are chattering and his body trembles from the low temperature.

Bucky’s always cold. He always has been. At least since…it doesn’t matter. The discomfort of being chilled to the bone is something he’s used to, something normal, something he deserves. He doesn’t even notice it anymore. The fact that the room never even steamed up leaving him to get hit with a rush of cold air when he opens the shower curtain doesn’t even phase him.

Bucky shakes the intruding thoughts away then tugs a towel free from the wall rack like he does every day and pulls it across his body carelessly. It’s only when his skin is rubbed raw that he stops, realizing now that he’s been dry for a couple minutes. A small exhale leaves his lips as he returns the now-damp towel to its place

Bucky isn’t quite sure what to do now. The screams have dulled and he’s left with the quietness of his apartment. The silence never helps with the storm brewing in his mind. Bucky knows it’s only a matter of time before he can’t continue pushing his memories away.

Though he isn’t sure what to make of the thoughts seeping in and out of his consciousness, he does know one thing: he’s sure as hell not going back to sleep.

With a sigh, Bucky retrieves his boxers from the floor then walks into his bedroom. Like the rest of his apartment, it’s sparsely decorated. The dresser by the door is practically brand new and rarely used. It’s where he keeps his comfortable clothes -underwear, socks, one pair of sweatpants, and some t-shirts Sam forced on him- while the items he wears more frequently are folded in neat piles on the edge of the bed. The bed, which is just a mattress on the floor, is only made with a fitted sheet and a singular pillow. Several small boxes containing various pieces of his life Steve put together for him cover the surface.

Bucky went through them once. When he came across a collection of old photographs, he dropped them back into the box then closed the lid. He couldn’t bring himself to look through the pictures, especially when most of them contain the face of someone he loved, someone he doesn’t have anymore.

He hasn’t touched the boxes since. It’s easier to ignore them, but he can’t bring himself to hide them away in a closet. So there they sit, taking up space on a mattress he never uses.

Bucky doesn’t even notice them anymore. He drops his boxers onto a clear spot on the mattress then pulls on the first things he grabs: a pair of worn jeans and a simple long sleeved shirt. As he gets dressed, his gaze wanders past the boxes, stopping on a plastic hamper at the foot of the bed. It’s practically empty but Bucky takes it anyway. He spends the next few minutes tossing anything he can find into the basket. He doesn’t care what’s fresh and what isn’t; he just needs to do something.

When he returns to the living room, Bucky bunches the sweat stained blankets together then shoves them into the hamper. He walks around the room once -grabbing his shoes, keys, detergent, and several dollars worth of quarters- before exiting the apartment, locking the door, and making the descent to the complex’s laundry room.

The laundry room is probably the only place outside of his apartment where Bucky feels relatively safe. It’s in the basement so it has no windows and only one entrance, and it’s never quiet. The machines are old and rumble whenever they’re in use.

It’s perfect.

When Bucky pushes the door open, a wave of hot air bursts free and hits him in the face. Bucky takes a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs. The stale warm air helps relax his muscles. After half a minute of standing in the doorway absorbing the heat, most of the tension leaves Bucky’s shoulders. He takes another deep breath, exhaling slowly, before finally stepping into the room.

None of the machines are in use so Bucky gets to pick whichever ones he wants. He makes his way to the far end of the room, depositing the hamper and detergent on top of the last washer. He takes his time filling the machine, ensuring every piece of clothing is right side out before tossing it in.

Bucky doesn’t mind the monotony of the chore. If anything it gives him something else to focus on. Thankfully the machines are pretty simple. Of all the things he’s had to learn lately, using these laundry machines has been the easiest by far. Press a few buttons, give it the amount of money it asks for, then wait for the timer to beep. Easy.

As the washer roars to life, Bucky leans back against one of the dryers and crosses his arms over his chest. He watches the machine rattle while trying not to pay attention to the time on the display.

Thirty minutes.

He could easily head back upstairs and take a few laps of his apartment before the machine goes off, but he can’t seem to make himself move. The thought of leaving his things here unsupervised leaves a knot in the pit of his stomach.

No, he won’t leave, only so the odd feeling goes away. Besides, he doesn’t mind standing for long periods of time. Lord knows he doesn’t have anything better to be doing.

By the time Bucky’s machine reaches fifteen minutes, his mind has been efficiently distracted. He no longer lingers on the terrifying thoughts in the back of his mind. They’ll eventually force themselves back to the front, but it’s manageable for the moment. That is until any calming thought he has is ripped away by the sound of the door opening.

Bucky’s eyes snap up to the intruder - a young woman carrying a wicker hamper with a plastic bag hanging from her wrist. She stops in her tracks when their eyes meet. A look of surprise and hesitation crosses her features before it shifts into a polite mask of neutrality. She gives Bucky a nod then continues forward as if she never stopped at all, unloading her own laundry into a machine near the doorway.

Bucky watches her cautiously. He’s never seen her before and that could be dangerous.

Sure he’s down here doing laundry at- Wait, how late is it?

When she pauses to place her phone on the machine, his gaze flickers from her back to the analog clock that hangs over the middle-most washer.

Would a normal person do their laundry at a quarter to three in the morning or is she here because he’s here?

His eyes narrow when the thought presents itself. He redirects his gaze back to her and continues assessing the situation. She could just be going about her own business, but Bucky doesn’t know that.

He needs to be sure.

He scans the stranger while she closes the machine, eyeing all of her movements with suspicion. Her hair is tied up and messy - she must just be up at this hour normally. If she came from somewhere, Bucky muses, she might have been more put together. Her shirt has no pockets nor do her pants. They’re tight, hugging her form comfortably, so Bucky decides it’s unlikely she’s concealing any weapons. Though he knows that means very little when his own body is practically a weapon.

Plastic rustles as she digs through her bag in search of her detergent. Once she’s finished, she ties the bag and places it on top of the machine along with her hamper. She groans quietly, leaning forward to input the settings she wants then picks up her phone. Bucky can’t see what she’s doing from where he’s standing, but when her machine turns on he realizes she was just paying wirelessly - something he hasn’t learned to do nor does he wish to.

Unlike Bucky, the woman feels safe enough to leave her belongings unsupervised. She doesn’t pay him any mind - as if he isn’t a threat - when she turns to leave, leaving her bag and hamper on her machine. Bucky watches her walk away until the closing door blocks his view.

He really shouldn’t bother, he thinks to himself - though his mind decides otherwise. She’s in the same building he lives in, using the same machines he is at the same time he happens to be here. None of that can be a coincidence. He’s never seen anyone down here this late, and he unfortunately has a habit of doing laundry in the small hours of the morning. He also happens to know just about everyone in the building (at least their face), and he doesn’t know her.

He needs to be sure.

It’s difficult - even for him - to catch the sound of the stranger’s footsteps through the rumbling of the machines. By the time her faint steps reach his ears, he’s already moving towards the door. He stalks quietly through the hall, catching up to her just as she rounds a corner. She doesn’t seem to notice him at all, barely looking behind her as she climbs up the stairs towards the first floor. Bucky waits at the foot of the stairs, pressed against the wall listening for any disturbance. Only when he hears her reach the landing above him does he make a move, taking two stairs at a time while remaining silent and light on his feet.

This dance of theirs continues until the stranger breaks her pattern and opens the door leading to the third floor hall.

His floor.

Cursing under his breath, Bucky bounds up the stairs, managing to catch the door with the tip of his foot before it closes. Before she has a chance to notice anything, Bucky slides his foot free then closes it carefully, holding it open enough to see through yet in a way that it doesn’t look open. He waits for a second to pass, ensuring she isn’t paying any attention to her surroundings, before glancing through the crack between the door and the wall.

True to Bucky’s suspicions, the stranger walks down the hall only to pause in front of his door. Bucky’s breath gets caught in his chest. His eyes never leave her, fully expecting her to make an attempt to break into his home, and preparing to interfere. To his surprise she doesn’t pay his door any mind. Instead, she turns to the right and reaches for the door across from his. In less than a second, the stranger -who Bucky was absolutely sure was after him- disappears from his sight, retreating into the privacy of her own apartment.

It’s only when Bucky hears the click of a lock does he realize the tightness in his chest has eased. He’s been so careful up until this point and yet one woman manages to get past him - and she lives directly across from him.

Bucky comes to a conclusion rather quickly: he needs to figure out who she is. It’s not for him, he reasons as he retreats to the laundry room. If she happens to be an ex-HYDRA agent or some form of secret service, he as well as everyone else could be compromised.

That’s what he tells himself, at least, as he glances into the bag the woman left on her washing machine. Nothing but detergent and dryer sheets. Bucky scoffs to himself then returns to his own machine, leaning on the wall this time so he can watch the door.

It’ll take a bit of time and effort to find out everything he needs to know. It took him a couple months to clear everyone else on his floor. Maybe the nightmares will leave him alone if he can prove that no one near him is out to get him.

Besides, he’s got nothing but time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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dreamingofep · 1 month ago

Text

His First Bite: A Sinned Awakening Story 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: It's 1959 and Elvis has just been bitten. He doesn't know how to navigate his new life but a night on the town changed it all.

TW: Harem warning, mentions of blood/gore, SMUT, oral, dirty dirty feelings

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.5k

A/n: Well here it is... a dirty extra chapter I had locked in the vault for a year.🫣 When I started writing this, I totally chickened out and could not write such scenario but Vampire!E has been living in my head lately...begging to be let out.😏 I touched a bit on this scene in part 9 when I wanted to show more background of vampire!E and show why he is the way he is. Its just filth and couldn't post it til now so please enjoy this bad boy 😈🩸

♱

Paris 1959

The hungry pit in his stomach was relentless. Nothing could satiate him. Everything he ended up eating would be wasted a few moments later when he puked it up. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. It must have been whatever was left over from his illness. At least he was off for the next few days and didn’t have to think about anything Army-related. Some of the guys convinced him to go to Paris for a few days.

It couldn’t be a bad idea, he hadn’t gotten out of Germany since he first arrived. He needed a break from Army life and the incessant pressure that they put on him in here. As much as he wanted to focus on what he was doing here, he couldn’t help but think of home. He missed his old life and the love that he had from his fans. He constantly worried if they would tolerate him and his music when he got out of here. He knew things could be over tomorrow and the next best thing would come along, making him lost and forgotten. He missed being on stage and engaging with the people who loved him so much.

He straightened his suit as he stepped out of the car. He looks up at the old building with big sparkling letters “Moulin Rouge.” It was a well-known nightclub here in Paris. It was said the girls were divine and they were just the thing to make him distracted with how awful he’s been feeling. He just wanted someone’s attention. Make all this noise in his head disappear. With not being able to eat right, he also constantly heard this pounding in his head. It was relentless and he couldn’t drown it out. Every noise was too loud for him and it was driving him up the wall. Maybe he just needed a distraction and it would all go away.

The club was told he was coming. They sectioned off a table in the front for him and a few other army buddies to sit at. They served them champagne and anything else they wanted. He wasn’t interested in any food tonight, he wanted to watch the girls on stage and drown in their presence. This nightclub should have been called what it really was; a strip tease club.

The girls started to come out would dance to whatever song the band was playing. Slowly, their clothes would come off piece by piece revealing their perfect bodies. The place erupted with cheers and whistles when there was nothing else left to the imagination. Every girl had a different routine and drove everyone in there insane. Even Elvis. He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time and the slightest thing was making his cock hard. It pressed hotly down his thigh and he did everything in his power to not palm it through his pants. He did everything to try and ignore it but these girls were making him think horrible things.

Toward the end of the night, he was becoming restless and the pounding in his head was worsening. He was starving but no food would help. He didn’t know what was happening but he might have to see a doctor if this carried on for much longer. Elvis stood up and leaned down to one of the guys, “Get the girls up to my room.”

“Which one?”

He thought for a moment and couldn’t decide.

“All of them.”

They were staying in the hotel next door and he figured it would be easy to sneak them upstairs. He was on the top floor and no one was bothering him thankfully. He took off his jacket and went to the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Something was lacking in his eyes. There was no spark in him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was but he could see there was something wrong with him. He blamed it on his illness. Whatever he had nearly killed him.

He heard footsteps coming to the door and the loudest thumping in his ears. He couldn’t figure out what it was but it was taking over his senses. He walked to the door and tried to gather himself before letting them in. The door opened and a dozen girls, either in their costumes or thin robes stood before him.

“Please, come in,” he says warmly. They each walked in one by one and that thumping sound only increased. They all looked at him with lust, not believing they were in the same room with him and wanted to tear him apart. Some of them made themselves comfortable and sat on the bed or in a chair but all eyes were on him.

“You all were lovely tonight, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he says low. He takes a sharp breath in before speaking again and he can distinctly smell all of their perfume. Some wore a floral type and some wore something more natural. It was so strange to him to be able to pick up on all these scents and then something else hits him like a truck. He smelled something so sweet, so delicious, his mouth watered at the thought of it. He couldn’t figure out what it was but they all smelled the same way and he wanted them closer to him to find out what it was and lick it off of them.

There was an empty chair behind him by the window and he sat down, spreading his legs out before him. He could hear them all take a sharp breath as they looked at him. He didn’t know how to get them closer other than inviting them to him. There was one girl with big blue eyes and red lipstick who didn’t stop looking at him from the moment she walked in. She was really beautiful and there was something about her he liked.

“Come here,” he says gently with a smile.

She happily walks over and steps to the side of him, wearing a sly smile. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it.

“What’s your name darlin’?”

“Claire.”

“Oh, I love that name… you were so mesmerizing up there,” he coos as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. That warm, sweet scent flooded his senses once again and his whole body responded to it. It was a hunger and a lust that burned through him. He had trouble breathing with her this close.

She sighs into his touch and plays with his shirt.

“Thank you, we were happy you could make it. We heard you were in Europe and wondered if we’d ever get a kiss from the one and only,” she teased.

“Is that what they’re saying about me?”

“I don’t know about everyone else, but us girls were quite interested,” she quips.

He looked down at her lips and they were plump and inviting. His eyes continued to trail down her chest and the robe that she wore was practically see-through. Her hard nipples poked through and he couldn’t help but want to suck on them. She was warm in his lap, radiating with need with every second that went by. He places his hand on her face and takes another deep breath in. God that smell was electrifying. He needed that wherever he went.

“All of you can kiss me for as long as you want,” he hums as he presses his lips to hers.

They were soft and full and she let out a soft moan when his lips crashed into hers. She looks up at him dazed and shocked at how good it was. She went in for another kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. Another wave of her scent came hurling at Elvis and he groaned because of it. The way he was acting was strange even to himself. He had never been like this with any woman.

Another girl walked to him and waited for her kiss. The girl in his lap didn’t get up as one by one, every girl in that room got kisses from him. They all groaned when they felt his lips on theirs, pure ecstasy pouring into them. It made his cock hard just the way they were reacting to him. He didn’t have to do much and these girls were dying for attention from him.

The girl in his lap started to unbutton his shirt and slip her hand across his chest. Her skin was so soft and the pounding sound he heard in his head only got worse. He pulled her in closer and started to kiss her more feverishly. She loved it and let her robe fall off her shoulders. He slipped his hand along her waist and his mouth moved down her face. He covered her face in warm wet kisses and moved down to her neck. That pounding sound became crystal clear when his fingers touched the side of her neck where he could see her pulse. His hand slid down to the top of her breast and the sound he heard matched the feeling of her heart pounding away under his hand.

I can hear their hearts… how is that possible…

Everything in him was telling him to put his mouth on those spots. He needed to feel it against his skin. His hand squeezes her breast and he brings her nipple to his mouth. He sucks and squeezes her, making her make this soft moan that makes his cock harder. He felt someone at his legs, rubbing their hands up and down his calves and their breathing ragged.

Someone pulled his hand off of the girl and brought it to their own breast, making him squeeze her too.

"Please touch me," she cries.

He pauses and looks at these women fawning over him. They were all so desperate for him and the sounds of their heartbeats nearly drove him mad. He had to focus on one at a time.

His mouth was back on her nipples and sucked and teased them till they were red and swollen. He moved up her collarbone to her neck and groaned when he felt her galloping heart race against his lips. His mouth sucked on her neck harder and he felt this overwhelming power surge through him. She trembled against him and held onto him tighter.

The girl at his feet slowly started to slither her hands up his thighs and palm his length through his pants. He groans deeply and quickly looks down at her. It felt so good, he hadn’t had anyone touch him like this in so long. He watches her hands try to unbutton his pants and reach into them to pull his cock out. She looked up at him with innocent eyes and slowly pumped him in her hand. God, he could fuck her all night with the way she looked at him. He nodded his head at her to keep going and she happily obliged.

That mouthwatering scent continued to swirl in his head and almost became too distracting. He began to feel overwhelmed if he didn’t get what his body was craving. He started to breathe heavier as the girls around him took turns kissing on him. They kissed any part of him that they could get their hands on. It drove him wild and he started to kiss them more feverishly and nip at any exposed skin he could get his mouth on. They responded with moans and sighs from his touch and it made him feel intoxicated. A buzzing high started to take over and he wanted more from them. This hunger inside him couldn’t be suppressed.

He returned his attention to the girl on his lap and grabbed the back of her head forcefully.

“Touch me,” he commanded.

She takes a sharp breath in before reaching down and jerking his cock slowly, groaning when she feels the size of him. His eyes roll back and buries his face in her neck. That sweet smell was the best from there and he feels like he’s in a frenzy. He can’t control how much he wants to stay there and bask himself in her scent.

He sucks and nips at her neck harder, feeling a pool of warmth reside under her skin. His jaw has this sharp pain that takes over his mouth but he tries to ignore it. He found it harder to breathe and all he could think about was wanting to nip at her neck a little harder… like that would be so satisfying for him and help this hunger inside him.

He lets that dark voice win and sinks his teeth into her neck. She screams out in pain but her blood pools in his mouth quickly and once his tongue tastes that perfect nectar, he’s unglued. It was the best-tasting thing he’s ever had in his mouth. It was rich and sweet and made the hunger inside him come more alive. He held onto her body tighter and started to suck harder and gulp mouthfuls of her pooling blood. He was in heaven. She scratched at this chest and continued to cry out in pain.

The other girls started to see the blood dripping from her neck and became frightened. They all quickly stepped away and gasped in horror. Elvis took his teeth out of her and felt so good but the moment he opened his eyes and saw what he had done, he was mortified. The girl’s face was scared beyond belief and scrambled to get off of him. She covered her neck and winced in pain. He didn’t know what he had done. He bit someone and he liked it far too much.

He stands up from the chair and begins to panic.

“Darlin’ I-I-I, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you-,” the stammers and they all cry out terrified and turn their faces away from him, like his very appearance is the most horrifying thing they’ve ever seen. The bathroom was directly to his right and he could see crystal clear, even from here, these bloodthirsty red eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening. In long strides, he rushed to get a closer look at himself. His eyes were terrifying and blood was smeared all over his mouth.

“Oh my God,” he says shakily.

When he opens his mouth, he can see the razor-sharp fangs that descend from his normal incisors. He truly was terrifying and couldn’t understand what was happening.

He was a vampire.

That was the only thing he knew for sure. The hunger he’s had these last few days wasn’t for food but for blood. And that incessant pounding in his head wasn’t a headache, it was everyone’s heartbeat he could hear, calling out to him like a siren. It was fuzzy, but he remembers that night the army captain came to his bedside and promised to give him a gift, something to guarantee him making it out of Germany alive. He couldn’t believe it. He felt deceived and fearful. He didn’t know what this meant for his future.

He heard the girls murmuring in the other room and he realized he needed to do something about them. He walks back into the bedroom and they all tremble looking at him. He felt helpless and just wanted them to forget what they’d seen.

“I’m sorry.. p-please forgive me,” he pleads. They all hold their breath and look away from him.

He takes another step forward and begs for them to listen.

“Please! I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forget what you’ve seen!” He pleads.

They all look at him and the fear washes away from their faces. They look at him with awe again and want to get closer to him. Elvis was relieved and breathed normally again.

He could make them forget whatever he needed them to. They wouldn’t remember how his eyes were monstrous and bloodthirsty.

He had power.

His throat felt tight and that hunger he had earlier came back with a vengeance. He tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t scare them again was difficult but he had to try. He looked at them all in the eyes and licked his lips before speaking.

“Do you trust me?”

They nod their heads at them and look at him like they want to take a bite out of him.

“Good don’t be afraid of my eyes or my teeth, I’ll be gentle,” he breathes, “Do you want me?”

They nod their heads and whimper at the question. That made him feel disastrously weak and pull his shirt off his body and pulled his pants down. He got on the bed and sat up with the pillows behind his back, his legs spread and his cock at full attention.

“I want you too… I’ll try to please you all night, if that’s what you want.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to do that, there were a lot of them and only one of him but he just wanted them close. He wanted to bask in their scent and fuck them til the sun came up.

One of the brunettes came forward first and got between his legs, looking at his cock with anticipation.

“Come closer,” he begged, “Get on top of me.”

He could hear how her heart pounded against her ribcage at the request. God, he couldn’t get enough of it and it excited him in the worst of ways.

She straddles his hips and presses her wet cunt to his shaft. They both groan when they feel how needy they are. He pulls her close and starts to suck on her neck. She groans at the sensation and grinds herself against his length. He felt the bed shift in weight and more of the girls wanted to get closer to him, hoping they would get an ounce of his attention. Elvis had never felt so deprived of human touch but this searing thirst in his throat made it so much worse. His hands squeeze onto her hips and gently lifts her up and sinks her down on his aching cock. She squeezed tightly around him, not prepared for the size of his length. He momentarily lifts his head from her neck and looks her in the eyes, encouraging her to move. She groans helplessly and slowly bobs up and down on him. He curses how good her pussy feels. So warm and tight around him.

He looks to the right of him and another girl is trembling watching Elvis please the girl on top of him. He motions her to come closer to him with a flick of his finger. She kneels on the side of him and rubs his chest. He guides his fingers under her dress and to his pleasure, she’s wearing nothing underneath it and is soaking wet. He rubs his fingers back and forth through her folds until they are covered in her arousal. He then pushes two of his fingers at her entrance and slowly thrusts them in and out of her. She holds onto him tightly, overwhelmed with the feeling of him inside her, and cries out his name. Just watching these girl’s faces get off because of him made him want to cum.

Another girl to his left started to kiss on him and beg for his attention. He pulled her close and sucked on her breasts, making her groan prolifically. He couldn’t get enough of them. He had never done something like this but it had never felt so right. He began to thrust his hips harder into the girl on top of him and he could feel her walls flutter after every move he made. The hunger washed over him again and he wanted to make this beautiful girl cum all over him while he sunk his teeth into her neck.

He pulled her close and wasted no time. His hips drove into her, making her cry out his name and he sucked on where he wanted to take a bite. He felt this overwhelming instinct come over him and he gently sunk his teeth into her neck. She cried out but didn’t stop moving on him. He let the blood pool into his mouth before greedily sucking it out of her. It was the best feeling he could have imagined. He felt satisfied beyond belief. The sound of groans filled the room as some of them watched him make these girls come undone. His fingers still pumped in and out of the other girl and he could tell she was about to finish. She was grinding herself on his fingers begging for release.

He groans into the girl’s neck when he feels her walls pulse around him and squeeze his cock. He had to take his teeth out of her neck to make sure didn’t bite any harder as she rode him through her orgasm.

“That’s it baby, keep cumming. You feel so good,” he growls. She keeps her eyes closed and nods her head, grinding herself at the base of his cock. He turns his head to the side and watches the other girl cum on his finger, squeezing them for dear life. She drips down his knuckles and he nearly loses it at just the sight.

The girl on top of him slumps onto his chest, gasping for breath. Elvis takes the opportunity to lick the remaining blood that was leaking from her neck and give a satisfied groan.

“Please forget I bit you, I’m sorry for the pain,” he whispers in her ear. She hums in agreement and slowly gets off of him. He then slowly took his fingers out of the girl next to him who was also just as spent. He wanted a taste though. He wanted to see if a certain person’s blood tasted any different from another. He pulled her in and took a bite into her neck and reveled in the sweet taste of her blood. It all tasted good to him and he couldn’t waste a drop.

After he was done feeding from her, the girls stared at him waiting to hear what he wanted next. He looked down at his hard cock that was begging for release. Another girl came forward, her heart racing uncontrollably when she looked at him. She crawled in between his legs and he stopped her from coming any further. He leaned over and caressed her face when he looked at her.

“Make me cum, please. I want you to use your mouth,” he instructs.

She whimpers at his instructions and takes his hard length in her hand, pumping it a few times before licking the tip of him. God, it felt good. He closed his eyes and enjoyed how her tongue worshipped him.

He wanted more blood, it clouded his whole mind. He didn’t know how to stop. This was all so new to him. So he pulled the next girl in and attacked her breasts with kisses and nipping them softly. Her sweet moans only egged him to go further. He picked her up easily and had her straddle his face. He grabbed her by the hips and pushed her glistening cunt to his mouth. He eats her out in a fervor and enjoys the taste of her. Moans filled the whole room as he felt his release coming. He bucked his hips into the girl’s mouth and had her take more of him. She happily obliges and he hits the back of her throat, making his hips buck into her again and releasing his hot cum into her mouth. He groans heavily against the girl on top of him and makes her come undone too.

They were all overcome with ecstasy and pleasure radiating through them. He gently lifted the girl off of him and took a bite into her breast, relishing in the sound of her galloping heartbeat so close to him. One by one, he tasted every single girl’s blood that night, barely able to get enough but he felt so much better. That hunger that he was dealing with the last few weeks subsided tremendously. It was well into the early morning that he discovered he didn’t grow tired. He had been trying to close his eyes while at the army base but never felt like he got an ounce of sleep. Now he knows why… vampires don’t sleep.

He also discovered not too late into the evening, he didn’t need rest from any activity. He was able to keep his cock hard all night even after finishing. He had never felt such pleasure like this and kept his promise of pleasing every girl in that room, some of them multiple times. By the time the sun was up, everyone was asleep well into the afternoon. Elvis had girls on top of him peacefully sleeping and not scared to death that a vampire fed from them all night long. He checked their necks and the spots his fangs pierced into their necks had completely healed. Some of them had slight bruises on their necks from his sucking a bit too hard but nothing too telling it was a vampire that did it.

He manages to slip out of the bed and take a shower. He looked at his reflection and thankfully his eyes went back to their normal blue shade. His face was a smeared bloody mess and had to wash it off. He didn’t want the reminder that he was now a monster. A monster who craved blood so much he couldn’t function otherwise. The cool water felt good on his skin and he took his time there. There was so much he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything more about vampires other than what folktales have said for generations. All he knew was he craved blood and that made all the rest of his senses calm down. Everything felt so overwhelming if he didn’t have his teeth buried in someone’s neck.

Elvis put on new clothes and the shrill sound of the phone rang in his ears. He tried to cover his ears with his hands but it was no use, everything was so loud to him. He quickly emerges from the bathroom and angrily picks up the receiver.

“What!?” He growls annoyed.

“Mr. Presley, This is Mr. Leonard, the owner of the Moulin Rouge. You need to get the girls back here for the first show of the evening,” he says sternly and very annoyed.

“Sure,” Elvis snaps and hangs up immediately.

The sound of a knock on the door ticks him off more and he quickly opens the door.

“What?” He snarls before looking to see who it is. It was one of his guys standing there, surprised by his tone of voice.

“Hey… the owner isn’t very happy you took all of the girls last night…” he says carefully. He looks past Elvis’ shoulder and sees his bed full of naked women and more of them sleeping on the floor.

“What the hell happened last night?” He asks wide-eyed.

Elvis can’t help but chuckle softly, “you wouldn’t believe me even if I tried explaining,” he says slyly.

“But I can tell you this, I’ve never been better.”

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11@that-hotdog

@louisejgy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114_@raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart @aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen @eapep @ladelinee

@iloveelvisss @ccab @buglass @its2amlol @peaceloveelvis

@theycametoconquertheearth53 @iloveelvis2 @rollerink @atleastpleasetelephone

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis x you #elvis imagine #elvis x y/n #vampire elvis #sinned awakening #au elvis fic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut

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sparks-and-smoke · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: Old Letters (Re-written)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (referred to as Petal) Word Count: 2,787 Summary: Lost and alone after moving to DC Steve visits the Smithsonian and stumbles upon a face he thought he’d never see again. This is a soulmate AU, just so we are all aware. Warnings/tropes: grief, loss, angst, mental health, conspiracy theories, stalking if you squint. Reader insert, no use of Y/N A/N: Yes, this is a little re-write of something I already posted. And yes I like it better this way. Rewrite of chapter two is incoming as well. This is going to be a pretty slow updating fic, because I actively want to make the chapters longer, but I have a small child so writing time is limited. So, IF YOU WOULD LIKED TAGGED, let me know I'll add you to a list <3 Beta read by the ever lovely @voice-of-velhart

Next chapter

The mind numbing cadence of the narrator should have been comforting. Steve was sure it was to others, the simple clear baritone voice explaining the exhibits around him for those who either could not read or could not retain written words. It was one of the accessibility he would have loved to see when he was a young disabled man in the 40’s. One of those rare things that gave him hope for the growth of humanity. But today, as he wandered through the exhibit that laid out his life like a textbook he couldn’t help but want the voice to stop.

Stop talking about his friends and loved ones like they were these lofty historical beings that were lost to the sands of time. Stop talking about Bucky and Dugan and Morita and Jones like they were heroes or icons... And talk about them as people. The way Pinky snored like a lumberjack once you were anywhere above sea level. Or the way Dugan could drink anyone under the table and still manage to steal a tank single handed. Or the way Falsworth could get him laughing so hard it would almost give away their location if Bucky didn’t punch the shit out of his arm to keep him silent.

It was all so long ago now. To the patrons and children who ran around oohing and ahhing over the glory that was the tale of Captain America. And not the tangible raw memory that lived in his head day in and day out. He kept his mouth shut, throat bobbing as he made his way silently through the different collections of his life. The memorials and exhibit pieces that should be his and not locked behind glass.

He winced as the voice over head got small things wrong. Like his actual birthday. Or the make and model of his motorcycle even though it was sitting right there behind a velvet rope. It wouldn’t have taken a curator very long to fix those little things but he had a feeling this particular set piece hadn’t been a hot spot until a year or so ago when he had been pulled from the ice, and clearly whoever had been in charge had been too busy finding new set pieces to fix the clerical errors in the script. It wasn’t like he was gonna call them and correct them. He would settle for just grumbling in his head like an old man.

It wasn’t a bad showcase, all things considered. Nothing the Smithsonian did was. They were America’s most famous museum for a reason. But it did make Steve's chest ache. He had been avoiding coming here for most of his time in DC, what did they have here that he could possibly find productive? But then he heard something interesting.

"The disappearance Mrs. Rogers has been a mystery that has plagued historians and scientists alike for generations…"

Petal, well not actually Petal, that was what he had called her in private. In his letters home. No, the voice overhead had called her Mrs. Rogers. Referred to his wife and that had Steve's full attention. Following the lead of the vocal guide he wandered to a small set piece in the back. A large gallery wall, set with pictures and letters and memorabilia from his life at home, things he had been told were sealed away, littered the glass cases of the exhibit. His wife, his love, plastered all over the wall for the world to see. It didn't matter that her name was blocked out. That they had kept her legal name from the public record. Her face. Her words. They were everywhere.

It made him see red.

“Those were private.” he heard himself say as his eyes scanned over the exhaustive catalog of personal conversations between himself and his soulmate. His nails digging crescent shaped indentations into his palms as he began to shake.

Letters and photos that he had thought lost were now plastered up in the god damned Smithsonian. Things he had never, ever wanted anyone else to see. Fears and sorrows he had written with confidence that only the love of his life would read the words. This was too much, it was too far. He could forgive the misinformation and the lack of fact checking. The bike, the medical information, the uniform, the memorial to Bucky. Those were nothing compared to this, And a red hot rage bubbled up inside him as his eyes landed on a very intimate letter that had passed between the two of them. One that had turned his ears hot with lust at the time but now just made his blood turn to ice.

No. Those were not for anyone else’s eyes.

He had to leave. To storm into the curator's office and demand this portion of the exhibit be taken down immediately. It was a violation of privacy at its deepest level. An injustice that he couldn't stand for. Not in his own exhibit…

He barely heard the giggling of the women as he passed by them. Anger fueling him forward with an almost mission like focus. Causing him to ignore anyone who dared talk to him unless they had the power to shut this down. But something deep inside him tugged. Told him to stop. To listen. His feet halted on their own accord and he perked an ear. Almost frustrated at himself as he listened in instead of pushing forward.

But Steve never ignored his gut. Not even in a time like this.

“No, I’m serious! You look just like her, it's totally eerie! Look!” Steve turned his head to glance at the women. A group of three, dressed in work attire, clearly here on lunch or maybe they worked at one of the buildings. The tall willowy brunette was gesturing at a picture of Petal. A picture from the war bonds tour with his wife all dolled up for the press. “Curl your hair and slap on some red lipstick and you could totally pass as her…”

The woman in the center stood rigidly, her face hidden behind her hair, but he could tell by her posture she was deeply uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I guess a little.” She said in a quiet voice that Steve could barely hear over the crowd and the tour guide.

“Oh, come off it! You’re like her Doppelganger. I’m kinda getting creeping me out.” Steve dared a step closer so he could see the girl's face. If she looked half as much like his wife as her friends claimed she must be stunning. His wife had been the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. And yes, perhaps he was biased but he didn’t care. He knew it to be fact. She was everything and even just seeing a shade of her in this woman was too tempting to pass up.

The girl stared up at the wall, the lights of the display case illuminating her with an otherworldly glow. And Steve felt the air drag from his lungs as if it was being squeezed out of him.

She didn’t look like his wife. That was his wife. He would know her anywhere. Could claim her in the darkest night, half drunk or dying he would know her. The visage of her was etched on his mind like a memorial. The sound of her burned into his heart like a siren's call. That was his wife. She was alive and she was standing right in front of him staring up at their love letters like they were the words of strangers.

How did she not know. More then that how was even she alive at all. It had been over 70 years. She should be an old woman, a distant memory if not already long gone from this world and yet there she was. Looking resplendent in the glow of the display case. Steve's mind whirled as he tried to file through all the information he had on his wife, or rather the absence of information. The utter mystery that had been plaguing his memory since he first busted into time square a year and a half ago.

What happened to you.

It had been one of the first things Steve looked into when he realized he had been gone 70+ years. He had gone on a tirade trying to find hide or hair of what had happened to you or your family after he went MIA. He hadn’t cared if you were old or grey or heaven forbid dead, but he needed to know where you were. He had spent the better part of a month trying and failing to find anything about what had happened to you after the events of February 5, 1945. He had pulled S.H.I.E.L.D. files, missing persons reports, death records, it didn't matter. If he had the means he took it. Slogging through every bit of information he could manage.

Turns out after Steve took the plunge Peggy took it upon herself to find "Petal" and offer her condolences. Only to find an empty apartment and no trace of life. Food left on the counters, coffee half drank in the living room, lights left on… As if you had just gotten up and walked out of your life.

It had been Peggy Carter and Howard Stark who had taken it upon themselves to try and find you. Peggy and Howard that took the letters and sealed them away. Redacted you're name from historical documents when you couldn't be found. Protected Steve and his wife even in death.

It had led him down a rabbit hole of sorts. Conspiracy theories and true crimes cases all about what had happened to Mrs. Rogers. to podcasts and documentaries that frustrated him more than helped, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to know. He needed anything, everything that might be an answer. Only to find that his soulmate, the other half of his heart, had vanished around the same time he landed in the ice.

You and your sisters were a mystery. A conspiracy theory. The display case in front of you said as much. One of the most divisive missing persons cases in American history. Up there with Amelia Earhart and the Somerton man… It had broken his heart. Left him empty and wandering without a sense of closure. He could still feel the bond you had shared, a tunnel of energy that led to somewhere but it was impossible to tell where. Soulmates didn’t work like bloodhounds; you couldn’t just follow the connection until you reached the other end. It was more complicated and the feeling only left him with more questions than answers.

And now, there you were right there. In front of him looking radiant if not self conscious and the aching tug in his chest was starting to become agonizing. But he couldn’t get his feet to move. As if he had been rooted to the spot where he stood staring like a lost child gazing at the stars. You were just as beautiful as you had always been. And it was hard to move past the simple detail as he stared at her. He was positive in that moment that even if this had been their first encounter he would have been just as speechless as he had been in 1939. And he felt like he could hardly breath as he heard her voice again.

“I don’t know guys, she's beautiful, but I don't see it.” You told your friends. Your eyes scan over the pictures. A strange sensation coming over you as you gazed at the old stills. Meet and greets for the USO tour, Steve kissing his wife goodbye in Chicago, an old photo of the pair together in a park somewhere. The park seemed familiar, but you couldn't place it. Maybe it was back in Brooklyn. You and Captain Rogers were after all from the same borough.

Mary, your friend who has so far been fawning over the love letters and the contents thereof clicks her tongue. “Naww, there is totally a resemblance. Maybe you should ask your grandma if she lost a lover to the war.” she wiggles her brows but you don’t seem impressed.

“My grandma passed away a very long time ago, and she couldn’t have been Mrs. Rogers because she was soulmates with my papa. But nice try.” you sigh, pulling your arms tight over your chest. “Besides, even if she was, I would only feel bad. I mean look at this! I would hate for the whole world to be able to come and ogle at the love confessions I made to my husband as he was facing down death everyday! It’s kind of cruel in a way. Hanging all of this out for the world to see. Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable to read them all?”

Amanda, the redhead, just shrugged. “I mean she is probably dead. So I doubt she cares.” Steve's hands gripped at his jacket. The callous response has Steve hackles rising up. His girl has shitty friends, or disrespectful ones at least, but at least she still had a heart. Still had empathy for others. Even if she didn’t know that those letters were hers.

“Yeah but Captain Rogers is alive! I highly doubt he appreciates his private thoughts up on display. I sure wouldn’t.” Your stomach was lurking as you're heart when out to this poor couple whose life had been made into books, and movies, and comics. Their heartache and separation sensationalized for the modern housewife and hormonal teenagers to romanticize. All while ignoring the privacy and wishes of the people involved.

“Since when do you feel so passionate about this. ” The brunette shuffled, starting to look a little ashamed. Good, Steve thought. She should. Everyone ogling at their past heartbreak should

Steve watched as you seemed to check yourself. “I- I don't know, it just rubs me wrong. It a human decency issue! A violation of privacy!" You turn on your friend with a frown as you realize she really isn't repulsed by this at all. "It's invasive and dehumanizing. It just like Anne Franks diaries being made into a book. It's tragic and horrible. These people went through some of the worst things human beings can process. And we stand her and gawk at their pain.” Steve's chest feels restrictive. Pride and grief twisting around inside it in a harrowing cocktail as he listens to her defend him… Them,

"We shouldn't be here. I'm leaving. And I'm gonna right the museum and tell them how awful this is! That they should be ashamed!" Steve stays back and watches as you turn on your heels and head toward the aviation exhibit. You're friends rolling their eyes at your abundance of empathy. Steve simply ducks his head, to keep you from seeing him as you breeze past. He doesn’t wanna approach you, not yet. He needs to figure out what the hell just happened but as you pull farther away the tug in his chest could crack a rib.

"God, you're so dramatic petal. Are you serious? Really, over old letters from god knows when." Your friend shouted after you. The other rolling her eyes and following the pair. Good to know his girl hadn't lost her spark. Or her sense of justice.

The instinct to turn and follow you is intense. Almost overwhelming but he ignores it. Instead choosing to stay behind and clear his head. Has to have a plan of attack. A strategy. He can’t chase his girl off, he can’t lose her a second time he won't let that happen. No, whatever was happening. Whatever cruel trick of fate this was, he had to outsmart it. Right it. But he knew one thing down to his marrow. That was his soulmate, and she would not slip away from him.

First thing first, he was gonna get this portion of the exhibit taken down and his letters and pictures returned to him. Then he was going to find out what was wrong with his girl and why she didn't remember. But one thing was for sure he was gonna get her back. Even if he had to start from scratch and make her fall in love with him again, he was getting Petal back now that he knew she was alive. Nothing could stop him.

With a new found purpose and mission Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a few calls. He was gonna get this all squared away so he could focus on the main objective. You.

Found you Petal…

Tag List: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers, @delilah-hey @tldrthor This is the version going on the masterlist :)

#marvel #steve rogers #ce characters #avengers #steve rogers x reader #Sparks writes sometimes #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x plus size reader #female reader #reader insert

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ladysomething · 2 months ago

Note

Heyyy, I don’t know if anyone have asked you this question, but at which fic are you going to realise in those three weeks?

my submission for the @formulampreg fest!

it's going to be 2 (maybe 3?) chapters. you can have a little snip :)

No sooner than he’s decided that he can’t worry about it tonight, the crowd seems to fall silent. Charles turns his head, wondering what could cause such a reaction, but he realises soon enough.

Lord Verstappen stands at the edge of the crowd, hands behind his back and expression blank and impassive. He’s gotten handsome with age, face filling out and growing into his features. His face is broad and defined, cheekbones casting shadows, blue eyes bright, full lips inviting even in their slight downturn.

His shoulders, too, have filled out, impressively stretched against his clean cut suit.

He seems to be looking for somebody in particular, eyes scanning the crowd with purpose—though a distinct air disinterest, like he’s above something as tedious as a ball.

That’s the Max that Charles remembers.

Charles can’t take his eyes off him.

But, then—

Max’s eyes lock with his, pausing in their perusal, and Charles’ breath stills in his chest.

Max, still looking directly at Charles, leans in close to his partner—whom Charles didn’t even notice before now—and then breaks away, walking directly towards him.

“Is he coming here?” Maman mutters from beside Charles. Charles feels like his heart is seizing in his chest. “Oh that boy, I should’ve known—Duke Verstappen, how delightful to see you again!”

Max shifts his eyes from Charles to Maman, and Charles finally feels like he can breathe for the first time since he walked in.

“Lady Leclerc, it’s wonderful to see you again. I was so sorry to hear about Hervé. I remember him to be a very kind man.”

Maman goes quiet for a moment, and then, much more genuinely than Charles expected, she says, “Thank you, Your Grace. He always had quite a soft spot for you.”

Charles remembers that, as well. Papa had always let Max run off to them whenever he didn’t want to be at home anymore, even risking Lord Verstappen’s ire on more than one occasion to keep Max safe and comfortable in their home.

That was, of course, until Max had presented as alpha, and Charles as an omega soon after. Papa had been less welcoming of Max’s proximity to Charles, then.

“And I for him,” Max says quietly. “I tried to be in London for his funeral, but unfortunately I was unable to cross the Channel at the time. But please know, I think about him often and fondly.”

Maman gives him a soft, kind smile, and Max gives her one back.

And then Max turns to him, bright blue eyes fixed directly on Charles’ face.

“My Lord,” Max says softly.

Charles dips into curtsey, looking up at Max through his lashes as he does. He can’t take his eyes off of Max for even a moment.

“Your Grace,” he greets, sounding breathless even to his own ears.

“Would you save me a dance?” Max asks as he rises.

Charles silently extends his hand, and passes over the pencil he has with him for gentlemen to use to fill in the card. Carlos had brought his own—very presumptuous of him.

Max pauses, finger brushing over the top of the card where Carlos has signed his name, and then he quickly fills his own in underneath, in the third slot. Charles has the strangest desire to look at the card, see Max’s name on there, but he’ll wait until he has privacy to see whether Max writes with harsh lines or gentle swoops.

Max drops the card, then hands the pencil back.

“My Lord,” he says softly.

Charles dips into another curtsey.

“Your Grace.”

Then Max disappears into the crowd, head high, not stopping for anybody who seeks his attention.

#anon ask #and I've been meaning to tell you

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mybworlds · 3 months ago

Text

Part of your world

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: Marcus Acacius and you meet. You immediately catch his attention, including Geta's.

Masterlist

A/N Thank you so much for the amount of love and support, it means a lot. It's a very long chapter, sorry, guys so take your time 🙏🏼 Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Taglist @harriedandharassed; @orcasoul; @blazeflays; @ijustlovemensm; @duck-duck-goose2; @blacksnape123

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

That night Marcus lies on his side with one hand under his cheek, staring out of his bedroom window at the star-filled sky. He didn't sleep a wink. He tossed and turned in bed several times, but the god of sleep wasn't on his side that night.

Tired of not being able to sleep, at the first light of dawn, Marcus puts on his tunic again and sneaks off to the beach. Luckily none of his servants are awake yet or else at least a couple would have run to his side preventing him from being alone for a while.

The sand is still cold at that hour, the wind barely ruffles his hair and dress, the sea is barely choppy. It's a picture of heaven and Marcus needs something like this to help him relax and keep the anxiety and fear in the pit of his stomach at bay.

The man thinks back to the previous evening. It went well, but inevitably he and Lucilla discussed their future union. She accepts it, but with rules. She wants to be able to continue being who she is, she wants to enjoy her birth privileges and she wants to be able to defend her ideas, whatever they may be. She knows that theirs is only a political union and that there will certainly never be any kind of emotional involvement between them and that they will probably not see each other except during the first night of their wedding, then everyone will do their part certainly, but without any other type of obligation. Marcus then told her that the two emperors suspect she is conspiring against them, but he did so with the intent of warning her not to expose herself too much. The woman maintained a composed calm, telling him that she would do everything discreetly and that he had no reason to fear for her or for himself as her husband.

Marcus can't help but feel forced to endure all of this. The truth is that he doesn't care about politics, marriage and all that. He just wants to be free and fight for his ideals of freedom and justice, but no one seems to care about these values. Everyone seems to have forgotten them and this always makes him feel out of place.

He sighs sadly when something, or rather someone, catches his attention: it's a girl, she's lying on her side, her hair falls partly on her face, on her shoulders, along her back covering her nakedness. She is still partly hidden among the waves of the sea that wet her exposed skin and make some locks of her hair wave. He quickly approaches, lifting her into his arms and carrying her a little further from the shore.

When they are far enough away, he sits on his knees in the wet sand, brushes her hair away from her face, and recognizes you. Anyone could have understood his astonishment at seeing the same girl from Sicily, the girl he himself had tried in vain to find when he was still there, the young woman who had saved him from the fury of the sea and then disappeared, now close to his home.

“Hey,” He shakes you gently before placing his cloak over your body “can you hear me? Wake up,” he asks brushing your hair away from your face and taking a long moment to gaze at you as if bewitched by your beauty.

You open and close your eyes over and over again, finally managing to keep them open and almost jump when you realize you're in his arms. You look scared.

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay,” Acacius tells you, holding you against him “How did you find me? Did you... Did you follow me or something?” he asks you, then reminds you that you don’t understand him. “Oh, yeah, sorry, you and I don’t understand each other. Um, maybe I can try asking one of my servants if he can make himself understood by you or…”

“It's not necessary,” you mutter and Acacius frowns even more. So, you pretended not to understand? Why?

You sit down, moving slightly away from him and with your gaze you search for something, it's an old vial full of encrusted algae and with a strange liquid inside. You immediately grab it, holding it in your hands as if it were a precious treasure.

“So, can you talk?” he asks you using a surprised and suspicious tone. You nod, “Why didn’t you talk to me when we first met?” he asks you.

You look down for a moment, then look up again, “I was scared.” You whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. Don't be.” You and him remain silent for a while, he doesn't mind staying in your company even if it's silent, then he remembers that you're naked and that you're probably freezing “Oh, forgive me. I'm such a fool. Come inside. I'll have you draw a hot bath and then you'll tell me how you got here." he adds, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to get up. You grab his hand, but after a few moments you pull it back and look at him scared, “What is it?” he asks you.

“N — nothing.” he sees you swallow and then look into his eyes, you seem worried and agitated by who knows what. Maybe you don't want to tell him how you found him or you don't trust him enough to do so.

“If you don't want to tell me how you got here, that's fine. Don't worry. I'll listen to you whenever you want. Okay?” You nod, relaxing your shoulders and he also finds himself nodding his head and then make your way to his villa.

He sees you squeeze the bottle, who knows what it is! Maybe when you feel more at ease you'll tell him about it.

As you get closer to his villa, you do nothing but walk with your chin up, your eyes wide open and a big smile on your lips. It's Marcus who invites you to be careful where you put your feet, to climb this step now or not to put your feet in the ground when you are in the peristylium. It seems like you've never seen anything because you keep running from one corner of the house to another, touching the marble columns, jumping when you set your feet on the tiles.

“You have a beautiful house.” you tell him turning around and observing the splendid inlays and busts on the sides “Why do you have heads in the garden?” you ask him, frowning.

Marcus smiles, “They’re busts of my ancestors. They’re statues, they’re not real,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say in a whisper. You look into his eyes and your gaze seems to almost want to read him inside. He, who has seen so much, met and crossed so many glances, can barely stand yours.

“Have you never seen one?” he asks, his gaze wandering from you to a bust of a distant ancestor of his.

You shake your head, “I saw some drawings though,” you say, running a finger along the outline of the sculpture.

Marcus starts walking again and you follow him, turning your head from one side to the other as if you don't want to miss even a single detail of what you see.

“Are you hungry?” he asks you. “After your bath I’ll have a big meal prepared for you, if you wish.”

You don't answer him, you're a few steps behind and you're as if enraptured by what you see. You seem incredulous and so absorbed, you have such a beautiful and unique look that you almost seem like a creature from another world.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out to you and moving his gaze in the direction your gaze is directed. The man immediately understands what has intrigued you and perhaps even scared you a little: it’s a statue of him.

He doesn't like it at all. He doesn't recognize himself in that representation, too pompous and proud. If it had been up to him, he would have let it sink into the abyss, but it's a gift from the emperors and doing so would mean causing them a grave offence, so Marcus keeps it there in his villa.

“I don’t like it. That’s not me,” Acacius confesses to you with a sad sigh.

“Instead, it’s beautiful. I mean, you are beautiful, not the statue. The statue is an object. You are here and you are real.” You tell him, catching his attention and making him smile slightly. You are sincere and this is a rare and unique quality.

“Thank you for your words. It means a lot to me.” he tells you, making to take your hand in a completely spontaneous gesture, but you pull away almost scared and so he desists, clearing his throat “Sorry.”

You shake slowly, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be rude, but...” you say, tightening your cloak.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my servant now who will help you take a hot bath, help you dry off, and then help you find a dress that fits you,” the man informs you.

“Maybe I can do it myself,” you suggest as the man starts walking again. “I don’t want to disturb you or anyone else.”

Marcus smiles. Again.

“It’s a joy to help you and even if I don’t agree, slaves are there for this, to do what we don’t do.”

“If you don’t share, why don’t you free them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you pause in the hallway.

“It’s complicated. Wait here. I’ll send someone to help you.” He says, giving you one last look. “See you later.”

You didn't think that potion would hurt you so much, your throat felt like it was closing up, you almost felt like you were suffocating, then your legs started to shake, you did everything you could to resist and not give in, in the end the pain got the better of you and you fainted.

Finding Marcus, the man for whom you did all this, fills you with joy when you wake up, even if you haven't been able to express it as you would have liked.

You immediately felt overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions, enthusiasm and fear at the same time, his hands are so warm, calloused, big, you can feel them full of cuts, who knows if they were inflicted in battle... just as you are thinking this, a terrifying image appears before your eyes, he’s covered in blood, there’s a large cut right next to one eyebrow from which blood is gushing, he has in his hands a sword also stained with blood. He’s lying on the ground on what looks like sand, you see him breathing heavily and then that terrible scene disappears as it appeared. The General looks at you perplexed, while you are shaken by the shivers and fear of what you have just seen.

He’s so kind, so hospitable, it seems impossible to reconcile his sweetness with the violent image that has just appeared before your eyes or those you have seen previously.

His servants are very polite and curious, they insistently ask you where you are from as your accent is unknown to them. You procrastinate, asking now about this, now about that. As they explain to you the various things that surround you and their usefulness, you realize that what you have read or your aunt's words have not fully conveyed what you are seeing and feeling. It's all much more.

A maid insists on braiding your hair into a high bun, but you protest so much and avoid that thing she calls a comb that in the end you give up and leave it loose. She also wanted to make you wear a dress that was the color of the sea, but instead you were struck by another one that was white like sea foam.

When you're finally alone, you walk over to your bed and sink into it. Oh, it's so soft and warm. Your bed at home was a giant oyster, it was nice and cozy, but this on earth is much better!

You open and close your eyes several times, you feel exhausted, but happy. You are under his roof, you have spoken to him, he knows you exist. These are already steps forward. You smile, sighing and relaxing completely, when you open your eyes again the light coming from the candles is very dim, you have fallen into a deep sleep.

You've never slept so much, you wonder if this isn't also an effect of your aunt Mira's potion. You sit down placing your hands on your thighs and then your knees, you have no pain and this is also a sign that the potion is working. Not that you doubted it, but it all still seems so incredible to you!

You look out of one of the many windows in your room, you pull aside the delicate curtain and observe the moon and the many stars that surround it, you are as if enraptured by it, at least until you realize that your room looks out onto the gardens of General Acacius' villa where the statue dedicated to him dominates.

You turn and look at the vial prepared by your aunt and drink a few drops of the potion, as per her instructions, then you decide to hide the vial under the bed in a hidden corner between the wall and the bed so that no one can find it.

Once this is done, you decide to go out and let yourself be caressed by the light wind of that evening, you feel light and yet your heart is heavy as if gripped by a strange sensation. Probably the images that first appeared before your eyes just disturbed you a lot.

You hear footsteps, fast, a very small child with blond curls crying runs in your direction, immediately behind him you see what you imagine is his mother followed by three other women behind them still Acacius.

“Hi,” you greet the red-faced, crying-eyed boy. He stops and looks at you, and you kneel down in front of him, “you’re beautiful, you know? What’s your name?”

“Fas - us,” the little one barks.

You raise your head towards the woman behind the little boy, the woman must be a few years older than you. She has brown hair tied in a braid and the clothes of someone who works in the kitchen judging by the stains, “My lady,” she says to you softly, “his name is Faustus, he's small and cannot yet say it clearly.”

You nod and then smile at the little one, “You really have a beautiful name. Why are you crying?”

“My lady,” the woman intervenes again, “he misses his father.”

“Oh.” you say in a sad whisper “Come here,” you say to the little one, gently holding his little body to yours, “you know, when I was little, I didn't have a dad either. I only had my mother, then when I grew up he came back.” you tell him, while the little one rubs his eyes “Do you want to hear a little song my mother always sang to me when I was little?”

He nods.

You smile and the sweet words, full of hope, love, happiness of your mother's song float in the air enchanting the little one for about a couple of minutes, when you look up, you notice how everyone was fascinated and speechless when they heard that melody. Acacius has a strange light in his eyes, but you don't feel danger or threat, but rather dying to know you, curiosity. His lips then curve upwards and you smile sweetly back.

Little Faustus unexpectedly throws his arms around your neck and for a moment you are paralyzed before returning his sweet embrace.

“My lady,” the woman says, “forgive him, he’s not usually this open with strangers.” She apologizes.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. He's beautiful,” you say, placing a hand on the baby’s little back and closing your eyes, relaxing against his little body.

After a few minutes the baby's breathing normalizes until he moves away from you, you dry a couple of tears that are still wetting his little face and smile at him, he smiles back showing you his tiny teeth making your smile wider.

“My lady, thank you for what you have done,” the woman says, placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Faustus, say thank you.”

“Tk you.” he says making you smile.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” you say getting up, while the mother takes the little one by the hand and they walk away followed by the other two women.

You followed them with your gaze, turning in their direction, then you heard a sad sigh behind you and Marcus' slow footsteps approaching you.

“It's a sad story about Faustus and his mother,” the man reveals to you, appearing at your side and keeping his gaze towards the corridor where the group has headed.

“What story?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the man to the hallway.

He hums sadly and then turns his gaze to you, observes your face for a few seconds and then with a serious look he answers you, “I don’t want to disturb your first night, um… You didn’t tell me your name yet.”

You tell him and he repeats it with such sweetness that it seems like music to your ears. You smile at each other.

“Do you want something to eat? Not knowing what you like, I had you prepare meat, fish, fruit, wine... in short, I hope you'll like something.” he tells you, slightly raising his shoulders as if he felt uncomfortable.

You nod, slightly raising the corners of your mouth upwards.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, pointing to a door behind him with his open palm in a gesture as if to say ladies first.

Marcus can't help but look at your face, your curious eyes zigzagging from one corner to another of the many rooms you pass through until you reach the triclinium, your hands caress and touch everything around you with curiosity. Your eyes seem to see so many things only now for the first time and your beauty touches the divine.

Where do you come from?

Such is your beauty that Marcus can't help but think that you are as beautiful, perfect and unattainable as the gods.

Yes, you must be a goddess sent there by him to enchant and conquer him and he's very happy to be enchanted by your beauty, your voice and the sweetness that shines through in your ways and gestures, as sweet as they are innocent.

“You have a beautiful voice, I've never heard anyone sing like that,” Marcus tells you, as you turn an apple over in your hands curiously, then smell it and smile “It’s an apple,” he adds as if wanting to help you.

You smile sweetly at him, placing the apple back in the basket you took it from, “I know, but I’ve never smelled it before.”

He hums, “I know nothing about you.” The man begins, sitting down on the triclinium “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you say and from the look on your face and your suddenly downcast eyes, Acacius can tell that you really don’t know what to say to him. You are not lying or stalling for time on how to answer him.

“You told the little one first that you grew up with your mother and then your father came back, is that a true story?” he asks you looking at your face and when you look up he sees them full of a veiled sadness.

“No, or rather that’s how I would have liked it to be. I mean, my mother died when I was about six of your age…” Acacius frowns “I meant six years, I’m tired, sorry.” He nods although he remains perplexed by your statement.

Is it possible that you really are what he saw: a sea creature? He has read about the existence of such creatures, but... No, that's impossible!

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of this absurd thought, “I'm sorry. What about your father?”

You tsk, you shake your head, “He was and still is an overprotective father. He has prevented me from doing so many things in my life.” you say in a bitter tone, then you frown and he follows your gaze, you are looking almost with disgust or perhaps sadness at the prawns or blue fish placed in beautiful ceramic bowls garnished with spices.

“What is it?” he asks you, not understanding your expression.

"Why are you doing this?"

Acacius is perplexed, “Do what?”

“Kill fish, they are defenseless creatures. They did not harm you.” you reply looking him in the eye with disappointment.

“Um, we have to feed ourselves. We would die.” he answers you in a matter-of-fact tone “We don’t do it for fun. Well, some people kill deer or other animals for fun, but mostly to survive.”

You look down, pressing your lips into a straight line, for a few minutes you don't speak, then you speak again, “I’m sorry, I overreacted. Um, you’re… very kind and… it’s so hard for me to reconcile this sweet version of you with the General I saw a while back.”

Marcus sighs, “I don't always like being the General, but I am. And I have duties to perform, sometimes I do things I'm not proud of at all. You know, sometimes it really costs me to be that way.” he confides in you, lowering his head and putting aside the armor he has always used to shield himself during all these years of his life. When he raises his head, he sees you sit down next to him and, in such a sweet and spontaneous gesture, rest your head on his shoulder.

No one had ever done it. No one had ever dared to be so close to him, everyone - he knows it well - fears him, not as much as they fear the Emperors, but he knows that his often hard gaze and his piercing eyes tend to keep everyone away.

“You’re such a sweet creature.” The words come from his heart. Marcus turns his head, “You know, I never get around anyone more than necessary.” he confesses to you by sticking his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent which - perhaps it's just his suggestion - smells of iodine and other perfumes he's never smelled before.

“It’s because you’re a contradictory human,” you reply. “You want someone by your side, but at the same time you keep everyone away.” you just move away from him “You’re scared. Even if you hide it well.”

The man misses a beat when he hears those words and in front of your gaze that seems to read him so deeply, almost scaring him, he who has faced armies and peoples with courage, he who stands up to Emperors albeit politely, is afraid. He doesn't know if it's you or what you were able to bring to light in a few hours, revealing it to his own eyes and intuiting it while spending such a short time with him.

“You are… um, amazing. Yes, I think that’s the right word,” he says, smiling slowly at you. “No one has ever spoken to me like that. Not even my own subordinates.”

“Well, I’m not your subordinate, Marcus,” you reply, smiling at him.

“Do I seem bold to you, if... well, if I tell you that you are beautiful?” your expression changes, but you don't lose your smile, you shake your head slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.” You lower your gaze in a split section. “Intuitive, sweet, captivating.” Acacius sighs, “You must be starving, while I look like… well, I want to hit on you.”

You frown, “Hit on me? What does that mean?”

The man smiles as if touched by your innocence, “You don't know anything at all, do you?”

After eating and saying a few words here and there about what this or what that thing is, Marcus — not at all tired or annoyed by your presence, on the contrary more and more curious by your originality — offers you a walk along the seashore.

The sun's rays are getting weaker, the sand is cool at your feet and Marcus for the first time in years and years indulges himself in the luxury of being able to take off that armor that he always wore it with pride, but which from time to time weighs like a millstone. He tells you about himself like he never did before, he even finds himself confiding in you about episodes of his childhood and early adolescence and you smile at him, in that light your eyes seem to shine with pure magic.

Being with you makes him feel lighter. And he likes it. Until then, being with others had been limited to when someone gave him orders or when he himself ordered others to carry out what had been planned for the conquest of this or that land. You're not asking him for anything, you don't want anything. He still hasn't understood why you're there and why with someone like him, but for the first time he chooses not to ask questions, but to accept your mysterious presence as a gift.

You answer a few more of his questions, not because he doesn't have any, but because after so much time he can finally speak freely and not about politics, not about interests, not about the Empire, but about himself and Rome never gives space to all this. You do it and you're a breath of fresh air in his life.

“Marcus?” you say. “Can I ask you something?”

If you look at him that way, you can ask for anything and he will give it to you.

“Tell me.”

“What’s the story of Faustus?” you ask him.

He sighs sadly, “As I told you before, his is a sad story. His mother, Iulia, and her mother were slaves and served the Emperor Septimius Severus. He also treated them well all in all, Iulia grew up knowing what her role was and therefore she learned to stay in her place. In short, she’s a slave and then women... have no freedom of speech or thought.”

“Why?” you ask him and he looks at you.

You are not really a creature of this world!

“Unfortunately, this is how our society works. Men are in charge.”

“And you agree?” you ask him.

He watches the ripples of the sea, “Come let's sit here.” he says to you, stopping not far from the entrance of his villa and sitting on the now completely cold sand. Marcus watches the light summer wind caress your long hair and move it slightly, he then watches the now dark horizon “No. I don't agree at all. You women are everything to this society, you make such an important contribution and not only for the most obvious reason, but you are intelligent, charismatic, and sometimes gifted with an unrivaled wit.”

Marcus really thinks it, he's not just saying it, he really believes it.

“Returning to Iulia, well.. her mother died shortly after the death of the Emperor, he was succeeded by the current Emperors Caracalla and Geta.” Marcus takes a break “They reign according to their own rules and according to their own personal enjoyment, as to this last aspect, well the young Iulia became the object of desire of the young Caracalla and one evening...” Marcus feels his throat tighten as he tells this story out loud, but you asked what the story of the boy you just met is and so he decides to tell you the whole story “he raped her and she got pregnant.” he hears you holding your breath “His brother Geta covered up what his brother had done and so he entrusted young Iulia to me, taking her away from his brother.”

“And the boy?” you ask him. “Does he know that...?”

“Of course not! His mother told him that his father is away and will return one day, but of course that will never happen.” he explains it to you again and then takes a long, very long break.

“Don’t you like them?” you ask him naively.

“Quiet, sweet girl!” he admonishes you looking around with a worried expression and you imitate his looking around and then find yourself eye to eye with him again “Never, and I mean never, speak ill of them.”

You frown, “What would happen?”

He holds his breath, “You’d die. Whoever opposes them, dies. One way or another.” he replies and your eyes widen in disbelief or probably scared to learn this “I serve them whether I want to or not. I have no say in the matter.” You frown without taking your eyes off his contrite face “Did you think it was different for men?”

“I thought that since you were a General you could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted,” you admit with a shrug.

He smiles, “It's not that simple,” he's about to take your hand, but then thinks better of it, he doesn't know if you'd like such a touch from him “We men, although we are certainly freer than you women, are still part of Rome and Rome sometimes sucks you in, eats you alive day after day and then spits you out if you are no longer useful.” he sees you swallow and slowly bring your legs closer to your chest “Sometimes I feel like that. Eaten up and then spat out like I don't even have a heart or feelings.” he adds in a murmur.

“Marcus, oh Marcus.” you say and he turns around looking at your saddened face “Why don’t you go away?”

He chuckles, but it's not a happy chuckle, on the contrary. “You know,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “with you I'm breathing again after a long, long time and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reminding me that I am a person before a General.” you smile at him, but he senses that it's an embarrassed smile from this contact so he moves his hand away and places it on his lap “This is who I am. I can neither fight it nor escape from this role.”

You nod and then fearfully place a hand on his, “I wish I could do more for you,” you say, your breath shaking. It's like you're afraid to touch him... why?

“You do, you're already doing it, you know?”

“Really?”

Marcus nods, “You really are the sweetest creature in the world.” He pauses. “I wonder why you chose me, why you're here.” The man sees your skin crease. “Are you cold?”

You shake your head, moving your hand away from him and placing it on your thigh with your head down.

“There's something you're not telling me, right?” You look up and stare into his dark eyes for a long moment before slowly nodding “I already knew that.” You swallow “But, whatever it is,” Marcus gently strokes your arm, “it’s fine with me. You make me human.” your smile widens as if you find what he just said funny “Seriously,” the man insists, “and thank you for listening to me. Your sweetness warms my heart for the first time. You know,” he starts staring at the now completely dark horizon again “the Emperors want me to get married.” he confides in you “I’m not afraid, but I’m forced to do what I don’t want. That’s why, as I told you, you are never completely free even though you are a man.”

You, unexpectedly again, rest your head on his shoulder and this time make an extra gesture that on one hand stops him for a moment, but on the other hand it makes his heart beat so fast, you reach out a hand towards his and squeeze it, intertwining your fingers with his.

If Marcus could, he would marry you.

The next day, you are awakened by the cawing of seagulls and a soft light that filters through the thin curtains that flutter in the summer wind.

You stretch with a smile, sitting in the center of the bed, placing a hand on your legs in a gesture as if to check that they are still there and that you are not dreaming of having them.

So, you wake up humming to yourself ready to live this new day. You don't know what to expect or if Marcus will be there by your side.

Marcus... you think about how sad and lonely his life has been, he has glory and power, but he’s completely alone. No one really rejoices with him, no one talks to him.

For him to confide in you, who have been in his life for less than a day, means that he desperately needed to talk and be heard by someone, anyone, you.

There's a knock at the door, you turn around to see the door open and Iulia enters the room, “Oh, my lady, are you already up?!” she exclaims surprise holding in her hands a tray full of fruit and bread with a strange semi-shiny substance spread on it.

“Iulia?” you call her.

“My lady?”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me uncomfortable,” you tell her, shrugging and revealing your name. She looks at you sympathetically as she places the tray on a table in the center of your room.

“I’m not allowed to do that. The General was very clear,” she replies softly.

You nod, “He treats you well.” It's not a question, it's a statement, she looks at you almost scared “Don't be afraid.” You reassure her by moving closer to her and placing a hand on her shoulder as a sign of understanding and affection and at that moment a series of violent images appear before your eyes: it's Iulia, she's younger, she cries, she's the victim of increasingly cruel pranks by two blond boys, then another cruel and terrifying image appears before your eyes, she’s held tightly by the wrists and then you see a young man with blond curly hair leaning over her, she screams, then the image disappears and another image appears before your eyes of one of the two young blond boys rudely handing over Iulia to a younger Acacius.

You jump, “Are you all right, my lady?” Iulia asks you, noticing your shocked expression. “Do you want a hot bath? You're shaking.” she adds worriedly.

“No. No. I'm fine. Thank you.” You reply, shaking your head as if to erase those images. You don't dare to imagine what it was like to actually live those scenes.

Poor Iulia...

“Come, I'll help you undress, my lady.” Iulia insists, walking towards your bed. You let her take off your nightgown, “You have beautiful skin, if I can dare, my lady.” You smile, but you don’t know what to say to her.

You think about how much she suffered in undergoing what she experienced, but above all in having to also raise a child who is kid out of...

You sigh, maybe your father is right about one thing: humans are strange creatures and some are truly dangerous.

“My lady, did you rest well?” she asks you again kindly.

You give a small smile, “Yes, thank you. I don't think I've ever slept so soundly.”

Iulia helps you clean up before getting ready for the bath. The water smells wonderful, “What is that smell?” you ask curiously.

“It’s lavender, my lady. Do you like it?” she asks as she helps you not to slip while getting into the tub.

“Yes,” you hum closing your eyes.

“Today is a beautiful day. The sun is high in the sky, thanking the god Apollo.” she claims moving away just enough to give you some privacy, but remaining in the same room as you.

In this sudden pleasant silence that envelops you and the woman, you hear a sudden hubbub under your window, then horses in the distance and finally Marcus' deep voice echoing in the peristylium.

Iulia is the first to slowly approach the window, you hear her footsteps and then you almost feel her holding her breath. You turn in her direction and notice the paleness on her face, “Are you okay, Iulia?” you ask her worriedly.

“Oh, yes,” she says hastily. “Come on, I’ll help you.” she adds, offering her hands to help you get out without any problems. She wraps you in a soft towel and pats you dry, “Let me do it.” she adds again when you do the same to dry your skin from the water.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she gently massages away the excess water. “Why has your skin turned so white?” you ask her still not understanding what happened.

“Nothing, my lady.” she says, but from the tone of her voice you understand that something that is troubling her must have happened, even if you don't know what it is yet “Come, I'll help you get dressed.” she adds in a sad whisper. She helps you cover your breasts and womanhood with some bands, then she makes you wear a dress as thin as seaweed, light as you and your sisters and all the mermaids and newts when you swim down there in the depths of the sea.

“You are enchanting, my lady.” She adds again with a small smile that curves her lips upwards, but it’s not a happy smile, her head is still lost in who knows what thought. She combs your hair and then lets it fall loose over your shoulders and down your back, “Why don’t you eat something before you go to the General?” she suggests.

“I’m not hungry,” you reply, shrugging.

“But my lady, you need to eat a little.” She insists, holding out the tray and looking at you with hopeful eyes that you will listen to her.

“You're a good person, Iulia. Thank you. I'll eat later.” You insist, sticking to your opinion about wanting to reach the man and let this new day begin.

You put on some strange shoes that are very comfortable, then you head towards the door, opening it and going out. The air is quite warm that day and you feel it too even though your body temperature is not the same as humans, but it doesn't matter.

As you pass by, you notice other servants busy doing their household chores, stopping to half bow and say my lady. You feel uncomfortable, no one, not even at the bottom of the sea, has ever shown you such respect. And yet, your father is the king of the sea!

Who knows if he has found out where you are and what he is doing, who knows if your sisters are thinking of you and wondering why you made this decision! You miss them, but you don't regret your choice.

When you reach the room that Marcus called triclinium, you hear two voices talking animatedly. One is the General, the other you don't know who belongs to. You hide behind a thick marble column and listen to what they say. You lean forward just enough to give a face to the second voice as well and you immediately recognize the face you saw when you touched Iulia: it's one of the two Emperors, the one who entrusted the young slave to Acacius. His features are not unpleasant, but there is something in his gaze and a glint in his eyes that unsettles you to the core, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know that Augusta Lucilla was your guest recently,” says the Emperor.

“Yes, that’s right,” Acacius confirms, his tone extremely cold and controlled, so different from the one he used with you just a few hours earlier.

“So? Have you discussed the terms of your union?”

Acacius swallows and his dark eyes seem to grow even darker like the stormy sea, “Yes.”

“And?” asks the young man again, sitting on one of the triclinia with an impatient air to know who knows what details of the matter.

“We will be husband and wife, with this union everything will be under control.” Marcus answers hastily keeping his head down as if feeling uncomfortable with all these questions.

“Good.” the boy comments again, then adds “There's someone spying on us!” You hide behind a column feeling caught red-handed “I don't like people who spy on me.” he adds again, but his tone of voice seems amused, then silence follows and finally you are surrounded on one side by Marcus who looks at you surprised and also a little annoyed and on the other side there is the Emperor who lets his gaze wander from your face then along your figure and then states “You have a new slave, Acacius! She’s beautiful.”

You swallow, seeking Marcus's eyes, who gives you a silent look before answering the ruler, “She’s my guest. She is not a slave.”

“Oh, right! She's too beautiful to be a slave." he notes with a little grimace "So, why did you keep her from me? She could have joined us. If nothing else, she would have been much more pleasant to look at than you!” he exclaims with a smirk. “Where does this beautiful creature come from?” he asks, looking at you, but waiting for an answer from the General.

You hope with all your heart that the man would lie about how you met, you are not sure that the boy in front of you can accept an answer as the truth that you came from the sea.

“From the East.” Acacius lies. You look into his eyes again, feeling relieved by this lie.

“Oh, I see.” he comments “That's why you're delaying the wedding, now I got it!” he exclaims smiling mischievously “It was worth it, I hope” he adds without taking his eyes off you “I'd like to hang out with her too.” He chuckles, hinting at who knows what.

Acacius is now visibly tense. His features are hard, his expression is cold and tense, his jaw clenched and his chest puffed out. You didn't quite understand what the Emperor was referring to, but Marcus did and he must not have liked it.

“Are you doubting my honor and integrity?” Marcus asks, clenching his jaw tighter.

“Oh no, come on General, I don't think it's appropriate to react like this!” exclaims the emperor smiling at him, but Marcus doesn't smile back, “Oh, you’re so boring!” he adds, huffing, then smiling at you.

“I beg your pardon, the gods gave you and your brother the wisdom to know when it is time to be serious or not.” Marcus replies through his teeth with a sarcastic smile.

You try to hold back your emotions by masking them by looking down at your feet. Then you look up again, observing Marcus' features that have become so hard and cold and the softer ones of the Emperor who has lost his smile upon hearing the General's words.

“I hope your guest is at least more inclined to smile.” You look at the man’s dark eyes. “And I hope your beautiful guest has a name, too.”

“She is…” Marcus is about to answer for you, but the Emperor silences him.

“I want to hear her voice. She can speak, right?”

You have to say something since the two men's eyes are fixed on you, you nod, “Of course.”

The boy clenches his jaw slightly, lifting his chin slightly upwards, “Your voice is enchanting and your beauty overshadows your insolence.” he smiles “I am Geta. One of the two emperors of Rome.” he finally introduces himself “I'm sure we'll get along great, um.. what's your name, my lady?”

You respond by telling him your name and he repeats it before licking his lower lip in a slow motion as if he were about to taste the most succulent of dishes. This man — Geta — makes you feel uncomfortable just with a look, it seems like a curious and innocent look, but deep down you feel that he’s not as innocent as he wants you to believe.

“I'd be happy to have a word with your guest, General. If that's okay with you.” He wants to sound sweet and hospitable, but the light in his eyes seems anything but innocent.

Marcus gives you the look of someone who wants to say something, but can't do anything.

“Oh, and General Acacius have wine and food brought for your beautiful guest too so she can celebrate your union with Augusta Lucilla. Has our beloved General told you about his impending wedding?” he asks, looking at your eyes as if wanting to notice any reactions of displeasure on your part.

You just nod with a hint of a smile, “Yeah, I was just surprised to hear that marriage isn’t based on love.” Geta gives you a surprised and intrigued look. “So, isn’t marriage based on this?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the Emperor’s curious face to the General’s much more tense one.

"Yours is a very interesting guest." comments the first "To answer your question, no. Not always. Mostly unions are unions of interest, politics. And the wedding of our brave General is one of them.” he concludes by patting Marcus on the shoulder who shrugs his shoulders assuming an expression so hard that it almost scares you, but it doesn't discourage or inspire fear in the Emperor who instead seems amused by this reaction "I must leave you now, I have other matters to attend to. I await further communication from you, General. Once this matter is settled, Rome will need to expand further. I want everything to be perfectly under control.”

Acacius clenches his jaw and simply places his fist at chest height and bows his head in respect and greeting towards the young man who, after giving him one last look, turns to you taking your hand and you jump when at that moment some images appear to you in which the Emperor has a lot of make-up on his eyes, he shouts something towards a noisy audience and there, in the middle of what looks like an arena, Acacius, bleeding and wounded, prepares to face some heavily armed men, then another image where Geta is among men dressed in white sitting on chairs, he speaks with great passion of betrayal, then in a last vision there is you, you are in what seems to be a prison and you are wearing a half-torn white dress, you are scared, you can feel your own fear and pain, you are turning into a mermaid again.

You pull your hand away in fear, “I apologize, I don’t feel well. Um, I’m going to my rooms,” you announce, leaving both men behind, who are surely still watching you.

When you are sure that Geta is gone, you leave your rooms and head to a cliff behind the villa. The wind has become stronger and the smell of the sea more intense. You wonder if the images you saw are real or if it is your own fear that others might discover the truth that is showing them to you so vividly.

“You’re here.” You hear Marcus’ warm, husky voice. “I thought you were asleep.”

You shake your head without turning in his direction, “No.”

He reaches you and comes alongside, for a while neither you nor he say anything, there is the incessant sound of the sea in the background. You think back to the fate that awaits the General, a union without love.. then you think back to when you saw him bloodied and fighting so ferociously just to survive.

“I’m sorry if the emperor upset you. He’s… that’s the way he is. He enjoys upsetting others, he takes this strange pleasure.”

You nod, “Your world is quite complicated. I thought you were exaggerating, but…” a shiver runs down your spine “The Emperor, Geta, has something in his gaze that has horrified me to the core.” you confide “He is so superficial, so devoid of humanity and he hides it behind that seraphic appearance that the gods have given him.” you add in a barely audible whisper to Acacius.

You feel something covering your shoulders and you almost jump, it's just Marcus placing his cloak on your shoulders. You look at him with a grateful but also sad look, “Why does he want you to marry at all costs? What does he gain from it?”

Marcus lifts one corner of his mouth in a small smirk, “He... well, um no I have to tell you everything from the start.” You listen to every word the man says and the more you listen the more the emperor seems absolutely crazy, you roll your eyes several times and you find yourself opening your mouth in shock.

When he finishes you look down and clutch his cloak, “I’m sorry I upset you. Again.” he says in a sorry and bitter tone, “But all that glitters is not gold.”

You shake your head slowly, “No, I’m glad you confided in me.” You look at him, “You’re a wonderful person, Marcus.” This time it’s his turn to lower his head. How you wish you could lift him out of all this, you wish he was happy! “How I wish your life was simple and happy!” you tell him and this time he looks up exchanging a knowing smile with you.

“Tonight, do you want to come with me to Rome? I want you to see more than just my life. I can’t guarantee that you’ll like everything you see, but you’ll certainly have a broader vision.”

“If I’m with you, that’s fine,” you reply.

He gives you such a sweet smile that warms your heart and makes it beat.

The magnificence of Rome envelops, conquers and scares every time. Marcus can't help but observe the amazement in your eyes, the smile that appears when you notice something special or extravagant.

You are in front of him, your hands on the cart to hold yourself up. He is right behind you, holding the reins of the horse. Every now and then you look up at him and ask him what this or that is and he answers your ear giving a name to everything you see as you pass by.

When the chariot stops, he gets out first, then gives you his hands to get out, you get out with a little hop, observing first the man and then what is around you.

The people have prepared huge bonfires around which they prepare food, some dance and others sing hymns to Hades so that he can help them always have food and with the hope that one day they or their descendants will enjoy some of the wealth enjoyed by the upper classes.

Acacius has always participated in these events, he tried to do everything he could for the people by sharing that little bit of wealth that he himself enjoyed and for this he’s much loved by all the people. In fact, he's one of the few men who is not frowned upon or thrown rotten food as he passes by; rather, they bless him and thank him. This evening is no exception.

Marcus immediately receives a glass of wine which he offers to you as a sign of gallantry, then takes another. You both drink, smiling at each other, and in the firelight your eyes and your smile bewitch him. Your joy, your dance, your laughter, your dragging him into those dances envelop him and ensnare him until he forgets, at least for those hours, his role and the burden that weighs on his shoulders.

You brought so much joy and lightness into his heart, you brought serenity and enthusiasm into a difficult and heavy life like his, you brought the love that was missing in his life.

#general marcus acacius #marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius fanfic #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as marcus acacius #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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polaroidhugs · 3 months ago

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Dancing with Myself

'When there's no one else in sight/In the crowded lonely night/Well I wait so long for my love vibration/and I'm dancing with myself' Chapter 1 - Dancing with myself Chapter 2 - Poker face Chapter 3 - Rhiannon Chapter 4 - Hotel California

(SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: While late for work the 3rd time this month, in Hano's kindness, she takes some extra time to give a man crossing Shibuya his wallet, and when he barely even reacts to her gesture, it makes her mood even worse. Not as bad as when the entire city disappears, and it's just her and wallet guy left, though.

A/N: First post!! I finished AIB like 2 days ago, and I just got the biggest urge to write a fic after watching it, so... here it is! (Excuse my typos I’m still trying to get better at writing.)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of criminalistic past-juvie, in the last little bit of the chapter, a noose and gambling are mentioned.

BTW: the character has a given last name (Hano) but her first name is up to you.

Happy reading! WC: 4618

Shit. Late for work again. And for the third time this month, too. It's really not my fault: My alarm didn't go off, and when I tried beating on makeup, my apartment's fire alarm went off and everybody had to evacuate. This is most definitely a sign I need to wake up earlier. But will I? No. Whatever, there’s no use dwelling on it; I’ll just do my makeup at the office.

Man, the city really is a beautiful place. I always find myself studying the passers-by as I wait for the light to turn. There's a dishevelled man seemingly in the same situation as me: his glasses perched awkwardly, not even having enough time to fix them, and he’s begging somebody on the phone to listen. Or, a more wicked idea, He might be a cheater, kicked out on the street, begging for his wife to let him explain.Then there’s three school girls clustered together, their voices bubbling with laughter about, from snippets of the conversation I can catch, boys.

That's the beauty of life for me. Everybody is so different. Everybody in this city has completely different lives from each other. Unless, all you do is stay in bed all day. But even those people have differing ideals. So, maybe that guy was a cheater. Most likely, he was just late for work. But I’ll never know.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft thud, the sound of something hitting the pavement. My eyes flick to the ground to see a thin, black leather wallet, scuffed from use. The ID in the clear slot catches my eye, and it invites me to take a closer look. I can feel my purse slip from my shoulder to my elbow as I squat down to pick up the wallet.

I glance down at the wallet, the owner’s name "Shuntaro Chishiya" catching my attention as I stand back up. "pediatric cardiovascular surgeon" Damn, this guy is young for someone with such a fancy title. To be honest: his photo on the ID doesn’t do him too good: The angle of the light causes his face to be partially obscured by shadows, making eyes looking like two black holes. Whoever decided it’s basically a requirement for people to look bad on their ID needs to be locked up forever.

I slide over to a nearby pole to get out of the way. When I open the wallet a stack of crisp 10,000 yen bills greet me. Stacked neatly against eachother. Why’d I even do this to myself? Why’d I open it? The temptation to take them hit me like a punch. Three years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to grab these bills up, maybe even bought some new designer for me and my friends with the card. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, snapping the wallet shut. My fingers linger on the leather, the temptation gnawing at me.

No matter how much I think I’ve changed, that pull always comes back. But then guilt creeps in, and the fact that I’m even struggling with this disgusts me. I should be better than this by now. I remember those years. I was a disappointment. Stealing, smoking, getting in fights, in Juvie- almost, if i wasn’t bailed out. I think of my family, their faces twisted with disgust in the car mirror as they drove me home. I don’t like to remember it. I can’t remember it.

As the light signals to cross, I spot him: It’s impossible to miss this guy, really, his bleached blonde hair makes him stand out like the sun in a surrounding sea of black hair. He’s wearing a white cardigan and some shorts, hands in his pockets. How’d he not notice his wallet? His shorts don’t have a back pocket as far as I can see. I don’t even think about it as I make a beeline for him even though he’s walking away from my office building, I just have to return this to him.

“Excuse me, sir!” I yell, pushing my way through the crowd. About a dozen tiny apologies come from my mouth before I finally reach him, tapping him admittedly rough on the shoulder.

The man turns around and, thank God, it’s him alright. “Sorry for bothering you, but I believe this is yours.” I hold out his wallet, flipping it so he can see his ID. He stares at me for a moment before glancing down at his wallet. Much to my surprise, his hands aren’t cemented to his pockets: He reaches out one to take his wallet back to his pocket. “Thanks.”

And he turns head and begins to walk away. Surely he heard me yelling for him in the street? I wasn’t expecting him to grovel for me, but just that nonchalant thanks? Not even a “Thank you, maam.” Man, why do I ever bother being nice to guys?

I grit my teeth, my irritation somehow building even higher. Whatever, I begin booking it for my office building. Finally, I made it. The glass doors slide open agonizingly slow, like they know I’m in a time crunch. I wave a quick, distracted hand at Ageda, who’s cheerfully greeting me with her usual good morning as I rush to the stairs. I can’t even think about the elevator right now. My heels clack loudly against the metal steps, and as I get up to the fourth floor, I’m breathless with my legs burning from all that running.

I weave through the sea of cubicles, a bit of me dying inside when I see the stack of papers on mine: If any other jobs would give me the delight of an interview, I would go there instead in a heartbeat. Not that I’m not grateful for Hageda, he’s the only person that would give me a job looking at my past: I’m forever indebted to him.

Once I get to my bosses office, I practically crash through the door. I stumble in, hands choking the coat rack by the door as the only possible way to keep me from collapsing. “I am so sorry!” The words barely even make it out of my mouth, and I shoot the most pleading look I can to my boss. “I-I swear it wasn’t my fault this time, my alarm didn’t go off and-and-”

“It’s fine, Hano-san.” He laughs softly. Him and this office always had a way of calming me down. I’ve known Hayashi for years; he’s a family friend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get angry. He’s just as cool as this office, with all the brown rustic furniture.

“Do this again, however, I’ll have to tell your father to wake you up himself.” Oh, God. I can never be late again. I can already hear my father’s voice: ‘My friend gives you this job after your life of gangster-ness and this is how you repay him? Why did, God give me this disappointment as my daughter?’ The image of his face churned in disgust is seared into my brain.

I fix my bag back onto my shoulder as I bow. “Thank you, Buchou.” I should definitely be going now, getting to my job. My hand reaches to push the rustic wooden door open, but the power going off stops me in my tracks.

I guess I can’t get to work. What should I do, then? Go home? That thought places a grimace so big it hurts my mouth. Well, I guess it’s up to Hayashi. I turn around, my face brighter than the sun.

What the fuck? My boss isn’t there, and it’s not like there’s anywhere for him to hide in this office- I’d know. As a kid, me and his daughter would be so bored waiting for him to return from a meeting we’d play hide and seek to pass the time. There wasn’t any spots for us to hide well, so there sure isn’t any for him.

Everything else in the room is just as it was a second ago; except for one thing. His glasses. They’re resting on the desk, abandoned. On top of that, one of the lenses looks like it’s been shot through.

“Hello?” What am I doing? There’s no way he would respond to me even if this was somehow a joke, and if it was, why? For being late? I’ve known this guy since I was little, he wouldn’t go through all of this just to scare me from being late again, he doesn’t care enough to do that! The whole room seems to be pressing in on me, the walls narrowing, the air growing colder.

I burst out my office, looking frantically from one cubicle to the next for anybody to explain what just happened, but there’s no one. No one is here.. My office is empty. Everyone that was here a minute ago, is gone. Even Tokuda, who hasn’t missed a single day of work in 12 years, is nowhere to be found. “Hello? Anyone? Is anyone there?” I quit my running, standing in the middle of the room, spinning in circles to spot someone that might not be a great hider. Nope.

I speed walk to the stairs, noting how the elevator is down, and every single computer is turned off. I blaze down the winding steps, the straps of my bag slipping once again. When I reach the main floor, there’s something I’d thought I’d see: Emptiness. there’s nobody crying in their seats about how they got scammed by a prince overseas, or somebody yelling at the lady upfront about how its her fault their card declined. It’s so… refreshing.

I have always been fascinated by how different people are, how different their lives are, but don’t get that confused with some sort of admiration for the differences. If I’m being honest, most people annoy the living hell out of me, I’d say about 8 in 10, being generous. They all just get under my skin.

The streets are the same as my office building: Desolate. And, if I’m not mistaken, I think the starbucks has moss creeping up on it? The hell? That would take a shit ton of time to happen normally, right?

The silence of Shibuya Crossing is almost too loud. Normally, the streets are filled with the incessant humming of just about a million different sounds. But now? It’s silent. It’s almost relaxing. I’m sure there are other people here- there must be at least one or two. But right now, I feel like someone just took their hands off my throat.

No more condescending coworkers giving me those pitying looks and snacks, no more parents lecturing me how I should be like my brother, no more fake smiles for the customers that have more complaints than sense; I’m free as a bird. I don’t even have to be wearing this sad office attire- Dress suit, skirt, and heels. The convenience store in the distance is humming my name.

I don’t give a damn how bad my heels are digging into the sides of my feet I sprint there, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be free of these horrible creations soon. Hopefully for good: I don’t know what it is, but ever since I was little, heels have been my worst enemy. I know some girls can stand them or build a resistance to them, but that’s not me. They feel like nails for me, and no amount of being in them has ever lessened that fact for me. Maybe my feet are just shaped strangely.

I practically teleport to the home section of the store, and there I see them. A simple pair of light blue slippers. Sitting on the shelf. The soft texture of the slippers feel heavenly in my hand as I pick them up. It’s like I’m a kid again, and the slippers are those huge rainbow swirl lollipops. Relief washes over me just imagining it.

Maybe I’m a bit dramatic, but I feel like I’m in utopia. With nobody I can do whatever and take whatever I want. Who’s going to stop me? I swing my feet into the air, my heel going along with it, and making a big thud as it touches the ground. But when I do the same thing with the opposite feet it hit’s something soft, Like flesh. I didn’t check if there was anyone in here, did I? I was too caught up with putting these slippers on. That’s mighty embarrassing.

What a coincidence: Wallet guy. Chinchilla, I think his name was? It already slipped my mind. Chinchilla has his hand in his pocket, posed like he’s waiting for the bus. His lips are curled into a small smirk- the kind that’s not really a smile, but kinda is. My heels are between his feet, but he doesn’t care about that. He’s just staring at me with that slight curve in his mouth.

What do I even say? “Sorry I just kicked you with my heel, man. My bad?” I don’t know this guy, I just returned his wallet to him earlier and all he gave me was a pathetic thanks. Do I say sorry? Do I ask him what’s going on? Why would he know?

“Oh, you.” That came out of my mouth much more sharply than I intended. I’m not that salty about the wallet thing, I think. Nothing about Chinchilla changes at all, it’s like he’s a greek statue. Quite frightening, if you ask me. “Sorry, I didn’t it like that.” I sigh, bending over and slipping on my new stolen slippers: I’m not trying to be barefoot infront of this guy.

After a moment, his lips twitch and his smirk deepens. Just a fraction, but it’s noticeable. “It’s just you and me, then?” His voice is casual, like he’s commenting on the weather. His eyes make their way back to me, and the smile fades out of his face. I feel like I shouldn’t be talking with him. Why is he and I the only two people here right now? Then again, what could I lose from responding?

“As far as I can see.” I vaguely gesture to store’s window, though in my view it’s covered by cleaning supplies and chargers. There’s this long silence that stretches between us as he stares out the window. I hate silence.

“Hey,” I say, slightly shifting my body. He raises his eyebrows for a split second before looking back to me.

“Why are you and I the only people in Shibuya right now?” That’s what’s been in the back of my mind this whole time. Why am I the only one who hasn’t disappeared? I’ve never been particularly special. Mid grades and a delinquent for 90% of my life. It’s not like I’m special. Maybe he is: He’s a young long-title doctor. Definitely sharper than a sword. But I’m not.

“I don’t know.” He answers back to me, quite matter-of-factly. There’s not hint of confusion is his voice, or maybe a bit of nerve as to why him and this random girl are the only two people left in Shibuya. He just doesn’t know. Point blank period.

I’m unsure how to respond to thst. He simply just doesn’t know. Do I get mad and start barking at him for answers? I shouldn’t: He is most likely just in the dark as I am. And if he is, then I’ve missed out of a valuable warm body. Maybe I should ask him to pair up with me, investigate together.

“We should stick together.” He states blankly, like he was reading my mind. I meet his eyes for the briefest moment before nodding. “We should.” I move to the front of the store, where a stack of shopping baskets wait for me. I can hear Chinchilla’s footsteps loosely following mine. I grab a basket and head straight for the food aisles. I don’t waste time, shoving anything with good shelf life into my basket.

I can feel my new partner’s eyes on me as I shove everything useful on the shelves into the basket, and it grinds my nerves: I just can’t stand when people watch me but don’t do anything. “Don’t just stand there, put those pockets to good use.” I snap, giving him the bitchiest look I can muster. Damn, I feel like my boss from when I was a delinquent. Demanding and impatient.Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Chinchilla flash that signature smirk as he walks somewhere out of my sight. Damn, this guy has absolutely zero urgency

It takes me a minute, but I fill my basket up the the brim, along with my purse. When I step out of the aisle, I can see Chinchilla casually leaning against the cashier counter, his pockets weighed down with snacks. Without a word, I push the door open, hearing the little ding of the bell as I exit, . That would mean, that everything powered by electricity is useless right now, and I can tell Chinchilla feels it too, I can hear him let out the quietest ‘hm.’

I stop at Shibuya crossing, it feels free not having to worry about a car hitting me. An apartment would probably be the safest bet for a place to put all this shit in, but for some reason, my body feels a strong gravitational pull to Starbucks. That convenience store was rather low on water for some odd reason, and the Starbucks would definitely have a shit ton, plus caffiene, which could be nice, too. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened to me. But, since we’re partner’s now, I guess I have to ask for Mr. Mysterious’s thoughts.

“Starbucks or an apartment?” I ask, my voice flat. “We’re low on water, and I’m guessing taps don’t work anymore,” He’s behind me, but I can imagine his face not changing.

“Astute observation.”

I feel quite bullied by what he said just now. Is he making fun of my intelligence? Not cool, man. Or, this could be an answer with his own personal touch of mockery. If he acknowledges my observation as astute, then he probably thought of that too, meaning he’s thought of the apartments being a subpar place to go aswell. I don’t ask another question, I just begin walking and hope he follows.

We make it to the Starbucks and just like every other place, it’s empty, with no indication this place ever opened in the first place. There’s just one singular round chair fallen over, but that’s it. For a second, I’m stunned. I can’t believe it’s the first time I’ve been here: It’s right next to my work. I put the basket off supplies and my purse down onto a booth, and Chinchilla follows suit, slowly as ever taking the snacks he shoved in his pockets out and placing them next to the basket.

I look to the counter. Why not? Nothing’s stopping me. “One large espresso coming right up!” I announce as I grab a large cup, some water still in it, and pretend to make the most extravagant coffee in the world. I shake the cup like I’m some sort of bartender. My laughter rings out, care free.

My mood should be much darker right now. The city’s empty. Everyone’s disappeared. Any sort of technology is useless. But I’m loving this. Sure, it’s unsettling, but also so fun.

“I don’t drink caffeine.” Chinchilla’s voice cuts through my thoughts. Very late reply, indeed. He’s staring at me, and I’m staring right back at him. “You’re a doctor,” I shoot back as I set the cup down. I lean on the counter, elbows digging into the surface. “Of course you drink caffeine.”

“Med student.” He corrects, like that’s going to change anything in my point. If anything, it makes my point richer.

“Oh, a med student?” I laugh, bobbing my head as I click open the register; nothing. Aw, man. “And you already’ve got such a fancy title? You’re smart.”

He doesn’t reply to that, but I can tell it boosts his ego as he looks through the basket of snacks, settling on a yellow packet of cookies.

It’s about an hour later. I’m just sitting on a stool, looking out at the beauty of the silent city while God knows what Chishiya is doing in the back. Oh, yeah. Me and him exchanged names before he went off to somewhere in this cafe. His name is Chishiya. Where’d I get Chinchilla from?

I’ve thought a lot over this past hour, about who I am. I’m an idiot. Through and through, all my life. What my family has said hurts, but it’s true. My friends and I, damn, we were all so fucking stupid. But I guess there’s nothing I can do about it now: What’s done is done.

A faint glow of pinkish-white spills to the corner of the window. It’s nearly blinding to my eyes, which have gotten quite accustomed to the darkness. Where is that coming from? I climb onto the table, cranning my neck to get a better angle. The light illuminates a pub me and my friends used to sneak into: It was a good experience, but I still have a year until I can legally re-visit. Not sure if that matters much now, though.

“Yo!” I yell out to Chishiya, hoping he hasn’t escaped to some intricate labyrinth where he can’t hear me. “Check this out!”

There’s a few seconds of silence shared between us before I begin to hear him shuffling out of the back. I watch as Chishiya walks out from the back, through the counter and over to me. As he begins to inspect the light, my attention too wanders back to it. “Should we check it out? Could be more people.”

It also could be a risk: I know that, and obviously someone as intelligent as him knows that. But if it entails more people, maybe they know what’s going on. That seems like a good risk to take. “Sure.” He answers, immediately moving towards the exit. I scramble off the table, my slippers minimizing the sound I make when I hit the floor. I also don’t miss out on slyly snatching a few snacks as I follow him out the door.

An impossibly bright and obnoxious arrow points down to the door of the pub. As if we’d miss it in the absence. Without a word between us, Chishiya and I step forward into the pub. The pub is exactly how I remember it from three years ago: A huge bar stretches in the back, looking tiny in comparison to the massive array of gambling tables scattered across the room. At the spot where the bouncer would usually be standing, there’s only a round table. On it sits one singular phone, the screen white. We get free iphones now? Whoopee.

Chishiya’s doesn’t hesitate to pick up the last phone. A corporate ding sounds from the phone as words show up on screen.

It read’s “Error has occurred: too many players. Partner up. If you are eliminated, chosen partner is eliminated with you.”

Game? Eliminated? What the hell? For the first time since I’ve met him, which hasn’t been long, Chishiya’s face is slightly confused. Of course, still with that signature smirk as always. It’s starting to grow on me, I have to admit. I peek around the corner to see the infamous Black Jack table with four other people people sitting around it. That’s where my old boss won the money to treat us all to dinner at the fanciest diner in Tokyo. Well, I couldn’t call it ‘won,’ I would say he scammed the poor dude, but when it comes to gambling, same thing, right?

Chishiya ambled to the circular table, and I follow him. At first, his uncaring nature really creeped me out, but now it’s kinda calming. He’s not scared, and I’m sure in his mind he has a rational reason for not being. So why should I be?

I know why now; I rebuke that. As we get closer, I notice every person there has something around their neck that isn’t a beautiful family heirloom, at least, I hope it’s not: They all have nooses tied around their neck. Not tight enough to choke them, but if those things got even a few centimetres higher it sure would. Just the thought of that makes my throat tighten in discomfort. I look to Chishiya, expecting him to back away, or show some sign of being scared, but nah. He pulls the chair out, and carefully puts his head in the noose. Great job, man. Great job.

It takes everything in me to stay quiet, to put on the best poker face imaginable. Everybody else are blank slates that give nothing away. Except for the fact that they think we’re weak: They’re looking at us in a disgustingly predatory way, like we’re the mice and they’re the cats.

Two people there are smoking, one a middle aged man and another an older lady. The guy has a laughable goatee and a fat cigar dangling from his mouth, the end of it chewed as if it’s life support: He’s a total show-off. The lady, however, isn’t. Smoke pours out from her nostrils, cigarette dangling from her middle and pointer finger as she steadies her eyes on me. She’s what I strive to be when I grow up: Her clothes are colorful and she has these gorgeous gold earrings I know she had to take money from a will to afford. Man, something about the way she tilts her head like she’s just figured something out about me is terrifying, but also breathtaking.

Then there’s two other men. To the left of Chishiya is a guy about our age- 18 to 25 I would guess, and he has very tall black hair. Not too-bad looking. There’s nothing special about the other guy, he looks to be an average office worker, glasses and a buzzcut.

After a while of everyone handing out sharp stares, a ding comes from all of their pockets. I walk closer to Chishiya, looming over his shoulder to see what popped up on his phone.

“Regristration closed. There are a total of 5 - 6 participants.” Is me being here a glitch? This thing doesnt know how many people are supposed to be in this game. Holy shit, this is trippy. “The game will now commence.” Poker face is usually something I’m great at- but now? I feel like I’m transparent. ‘The game will commence’ with nooses around peoples’ necks? I would be lying to say this didn’t frighten the shit out of me.

The show-off has a grimace on his face while he looks around to study everyone elses’ face. But he can’t find anything out, their eyes are all blocked by their phones. Then, his eyes lock into mine. I don’t hold it, my eyes flickering down to Chishiya’s screen. But he clearly found something out about me: I can hear him elicit a laugh straight from his gut.

Another pinging sound comes from the phone. “Difficulty: Six of diamonds”

I’m scared shitless right now, but I have to admit, ranking a game based on cards is pretty badass.

“Game: Blackjack. Rule: One winner remains before time limit is reached.” Seems easy enough, my guy can do this. Even if he doesn’t know how to play, I’m sure he can learn. “Game over conditions: Time limited reached. The loss of all of your chips mid game. Illegal transfer of chips. Illegal restraint.”

“Game start.”

Next chapter!!

#chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #fanfic #manga #chishiya alice in borderland #x reader #slow burn #chishiya x fem!reader #Spotify

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