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foreverisntenough · 21 days ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 4 - Saturday Night | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.8k

"Layla..." you called her that same morning after you darted away from the guest room, heart racing and mind swirling with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Your body was littered with remnants of Trent as scurried up to your bedroom.

"What? You're making me nervous!" she replied, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

"I fucked him last night, Layla," you admitted, barely able to contain the shame and guilt that washed over you.

"Ermmmm, are you talking about...?" Layla trailed off, clearly aware of your long-time crush on Trent but shocked that you might have actually gone through with it.

"Yes," you confirmed, cringing at the admission.

"Oh my fucking god!" she screamed, and you had to pull the phone away from your ear, stifling a giggle.

"I know. But I'm such an idiot," you sighed, feeling a mix of exhilaration and dread.

"Were you drunk?" she asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"No, we were totally sober," you replied, feeling a little prouder that it hadn't been a drunken mistake.

"I let him fuck me. And then I scampered up to my room like a little girl this morning. What do I do?" you confessed, panic rising in your chest. “Also… ‘let’ is probably not the word to describe what happened. I begged him… he had me begging, lays.” You whined recalling how Trent had you acting in that bedroom.

“Lol so the dick was as good as you imagined.” Layala laughed. "Did you talk or was it like a quickie?" Layla asked, jumping around with questions, her voice lowering as if she were afraid someone might overhear.

"Erm... it definitely wasn't quick. It was roundsss, Layla, but we were trying to be quiet. I mean, It was literally in the house.. Jack was upstairs," you explained, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck.

"God, that’s fucked up. But girlie, maybe this is the shift! We’ve been waiting for this man to move on you," she encouraged, though you could hear her excitement laced with a tease about how long this had been building for bubbling through the line.

"I don't know, my brother would murder me. What if... maybe it was a one-off thing for him," you said, uncertainty flooding your voice. “Maybe he just wanted to do it once and then call it. Like get it out of his system.” You reflected back wondering what this meant for Trent versus what it meant for you. Maybe different things. For you, this had been years of longing coming to a head, finally he gave you a chance and took you to bed. You worried that for Trent maybe he was simply just horny that night and once he knew you’d kiss him, he finally took you up on a bigger offer.

"Well, like how was it?" Layla pressed, her curiosity growing slicing through the onslaught of panic in your own head that she couldn’t hear.

"Lay.." you said, using her nickname as a cautionary warning.

"Like how good though?" she insisted, practically bouncing with anticipation and a dirty smirk.

"Layla... I was literally in heaven," you admitted, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. "I’ve never felt like that in my life. His hands on me– within the first minute, I was moaning like an embarrassing mess. He had me on the verge of blacking out. The way he felt... oh my days... he made me squirt, I was just for him in the best way possible," you confessed, feeling a thrill at your own words.

"Oh my god!" Layla squealed, her excitement palpable even through the phone. You’d never reported that happening with other men so Layla’s shock was fairly merited.

"Shhh!" you hissed, glancing nervously toward the door, half-expecting Jack to burst in and demand to know what was going on. You could almost hear his protective big-brother instincts kicking in. Layla was silent for a moment.

"You need to figure out what's next. If it was that good for you… Y/N, he must’ve loved seeing you like that. If there are two things that boy loves, it’s winning and it’s you; having you begging for him… he must’ve been in heaven too. I’m sure of it. Don’t overthink this, maybe it's worth the risk. Plus, if the boy knows what he’s doing…." She sang cheekily. You pondered her words, the reality of the situation settling in. What if this was just the beginning? The beginning of a very dangerous relationship but also potentially the beginning of more very good sex. “Maybe you should see it through. Talk to him or have sex with him, whatever you’re feeling.” She laughed. You giggled, falling forward and hiding your face.

“I’m so fucked…” You whined.

“Literally.” Layla teased, as you noticed yet another visible love bite on your skin.

A few days passed and you were laid sprawled out on your bed, phone in hand, staring at Trent’s pictures on google. It felt so silly, googling him like he was some distant crush you’d never met, but here you were, scrolling through articles and match reports. You wanted to know every detail—how his last game went, what people were saying, the headlines, the photos, the videos. Seeing him on the field in action, looking focused and sharp… and sexy stirred something deep inside you. And then, almost on autopilot, you dialed his number. The ringing made your stomach flip.

“Hey, pretty girl” When he answered, his voice was warm but fairly surprised. You froze, suddenly unsure of what you’d meant to say. Why did you just call your brother’s best friend? But his soft laugh on the other end nudged you, and then he spoke again, this time with a hint of something more in his voice. “I’m glad you called. Been thinking about you.” Oh yeah, because he fucked you the other night that’s why you called him. This was a disaster but his words hit you right in the chest, and you let out a quiet, shaky breath, smiling despite yourself. The playfulness between you two was easy and effortless, like slipping into an old habit. The conversation flowed naturally, flirty in a way you couldn’t resist. When he asked what you were up to you told him you were already in bed, feeling the silence hang heavy between you. He chuckled softly. The moment hung between you, that delicious tension settling in as you lay there, holding your phone to your ear. Hearing Trent’s voice through the speaker, warm and inviting, made your heart beat faster. You took a breath, steadying yourself.

“In bed, yeah?” he murmured, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. The way he said it was casual enough, but there was an edge—a hint of suggestion that wasn’t lost on you.

“Mm-hmm,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the little catch in your breath betrayed you. This wasn’t like your usual banter, and you could both feel it.

“Well… that’s a shame,” he said, a hint of a chuckle in his tone. “Because I’m not there.” He teased.

“Not here yet,” you corrected softly, biting your lip. The words slipped out before you could think, surprising even yourself. You really wished he was in your bed right now. A guest bedroom didn’t have the same intimacy your own bedrooms would’ve. You hoped you’d get to have in him in your bed again one day.

“Yet?” he echoed, his voice dropping a bit. The way he said it sent a thrill through you. He sounded… interested. Was he interested?

“You sound a little… distracted, T.” You laughed softly, trying to keep things light.

“Distracted? I mean, that’s a bold assumption for someone who just called me in bed.” He smiled and although you couldn’t see it, you could hear it.

“Touché,” you admitted. He let out a low laugh, and then his voice softened, almost as if he were drawing closer to you through the line.

“I’ve been thinking about you, you know… Not just tonight, either.” A little breath caught in your throat, and you felt heat bloom in your cheeks. You’d been thinking about him too—more than you wanted to admit. And yet here he was, saying it so easily, without hesitation. You felt that familiar ease between you two, but now it had a sharper edge to it, something thrilling and dangerous. “Wish I wasn’t stuck in Milan right now… but since you’re in bed and… since you’re all cozy,” he continued, “maybe you could let me see what I’m missing in that bed?” You hesitated, heart pounding. It was so simple, and yet the thought of it felt electric.

“You mean right now?” You asked almost in shock. There were moments lately that felt like a rubber band to the back of your neck. It almost confused you that Trent was talking to you like this now. Your brother’s best friend essentially was asking for photos. Your head was spinning at his composure.

“Yeah, baby” he said, his voice almost a murmur. And it was back… suddenly you were ‘baby’ again. “Just a little something to tide me over. Unless you’re too shy? But I didn’t think you got shy when you’re in bed,” he teased, knowing exactly how to make your pulse race.

“I’m not shy.” You let out a quiet laugh, your confidence swelling

“Good.” His voice dropped, that familiar warmth and playfulness making your skin tingle. “Be a good girl and send me a photo.” His voice was soft, coaxing, and it sent a thrill through you. The anticipation made your fingers tingle as you bit your lip, considering it. It felt thrillingly new, even after all these years of knowing him—this version of him, of you, of you two together. You bit your lip, and after a quick glance around your room, you sat up, ripping off your hoodie, adjusting your hair and holding your phone up for a quick snap. You knew it had to be just the right mix of casual and tempting. You could see your nipples through the sheer tank top but the soft smile made it cute, innocent. You weren’t about to send him a nude out the gate but just something to get his mind thinking about being there with you. When you hit send, there was a pause on the other end, and then Trent let out a quiet groan. “Nah, you’re killing me, you know that?” He groaned. You laughed, feeling emboldened by his reaction.

“Think you’d want to see me when you’re back? Come be cozy in bed?” You giggled teasingly.

“Honestly?” he replied and your heart skipped a beat in the worst way, expecting the worst. A rush of worry maybe he was about to change his mind, “I’m not sure I can hold out much longer” He exhaled, sounding half-playful, half-serious, and you could feel his anticipation echoing back at you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smirked realizing he had been trying to play it cool since you two had sex. You weren’t sure what to think of that, a part of you wondered if he was embarrassed it happened but then the sexual tension of the current moment overruled any cautionary thought you were having. The line went silent for a moment. “There better be space for me in that bed once I’m back. yeah?” He added. The way he said it made your cheeks flush, a promise tucked into his words.

“There always has been, T,” you whispered, surprising even yourself with the quiet assurance in your voice. And with that, you both hung up, your heart racing as you lay back, feeling the anticipation buzz through you.

Layla was away for work down in London when you and Trent hooked up so it was a couple days' time until she got to come over and properly debrief. Once she was back in town Layla was immediately at your house, practically bursting with excitement as soon as she stepped through the door. You barely had time to breathe before you were pulling her into your room to spill all the details.

“Lays… look at me, look at this! He did this. Trent did this!” you said, lifting your little flouncy shorts just enough to reveal the cheeky bruise left on the inside of your thigh. You emphasized his name just to really hammer home that Trent Alexander-Arnold, long time crush, Jack’s best friend, sexy footballer left that on you. You were both giggling like teenagers as you collapsed onto your bed, recounting the details of that night.

“Oh my god!” Layla squealed, eyes wide as she burst into laughter. “That’s very secondary school of you getting love bites.” She teased. You couldn’t help but giggle, the thrill of the moment still fresh in your mind, not caring for her teasing joke. “I’m kidding, girlie, that’s actually kind of nuts considering...” She tilted her head as if you were supposed to know what she was implying.

“Considering….” You inquired.

“Y/N, this is the riskiest hook up you both possibly could be involved in, and while I don’t think Jack often sees that much of you… for T to be so in wrapped in the moment of finally getting you into bed, so into fucking you, claiming you, that he’s leaving marks… He’s so into this! He’s down because he’s risking a lot here.” She explained. You fought the sly smile pulling on your lips. The days that followed the night with Trent were a whirlwind of excitement and nervous energy but hearing her explain it like that felt like new insight. After you first had called her, Layla had insisted on analyzing every text message Trent sent you since that night. You were practically glued to your phone, reading and rereading his messages as you waited for more. But now, she was finally here with you so you could share your love bites. You and Layla had planned to drive to Selfridges this afternoon for some shopping for the new season. Whilst on the way there you received a text that made your heart race the second it pinged.

“He texted meee!” you squealed, showing the screen to Layla, who couldn’t look right away because she was driving but she believed you. The sheer volume of your exclamation made her wince, only one person was eliciting that sort of response from you lately.

“Oh my god, Y/N, get a grip!” She softly laughed. “You’ve had his number for years!” she teased, rolling her eyes mocking you lightheartedly of course but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. She was excited, you were excited. Trent’s text was casual at first, but as you read on, you noticed the subtle undertones. He asked if you and Layla just might happen to want to swing by a club in Manchester this Saturday night, specifically around midnight, and specifically to come join a certain table with him and his friends It was meant to sound nonchalant, but the specifics made it clear he wanted to see you.

The casual tone didn’t fool either of you as you read the full message allowed to her. The exact time and place felt a little too intentional, making it clear that he wanted to see you. Layla smirked, nudging you. You blushed, excitement and nerves churning in your stomach.

“Girl, he’s planned this. With teammates and not his boys i.e not Jack…” Layla remarked, leaning in closer to reread the message for herself at a stoplight. “You know what this means, right?” She smiled.

“What?” you asked, your heart pounding. Naively, you were struggling with this new relationship with Trent. His ‘older brother’s best friend’ persona was so seared into your brain, the ideas that normally were flowing for you with previous men and what they wanted from you… weren’t coming as easily for some reason. You were overthinking your instincts. It’s not that you didn’t have the desire. You just were so afraid of him not liking you that way, you almost didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Trent. You were scared.

“It means he’s not just interested; he’s invested. He’s making plans to see you. You have to go!” Layla cooed. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of anxiety. You couldn’t shake the thought of what if it was all just fun and games for him? But the way he texted, the way he seemed to genuinely want to see you in a setting like that, made your heart flutter.

“Do you really think I should? He also said you too Lays, so you have to go with me,” you told her, biting your lip nervously.

“Hell yes! We and by we, I mean you, are not going to let an opportunity like this pass you by. By the way… It’s obvious, T thought the first time was good too,” Layla said cheekily, her enthusiasm infectious. “We need to get you ready. Find an outfit that’ll make him forget his own name!” You laughed, feeling a little giddy at the idea.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I need to at least give it a go. But I’m still freaking out! Fuck!” You whined, burying your head in your hands almost embarrassed by your nerves. “I have to be careful though… like I can’t do too much. I’m scared he’ll be like… ‘what are you doing?’ or ‘who are you trying to be?’ You know?” You explained once the idea of fashion and outfits came into your mind.

“I get that… we need to be cool, calm, collected… and fucking sexy. Ugh a yellow shopping bag couldn’t come at a better time!” Layla said, pulling into the car park for the department store dreaming of filling the boot with those shopping bags. The thought of seeing Trent again filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves, but you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. You couldn’t help but feel a bit eager for another night with Trent, no matter the consequences at stake. You and Layla spent the entire afternoon bouncing from one brand’s section to another in Selfridges, rifling through racks, holding up options and critiquing each one. Layla was relentless, pushing you to try looks you had a hard time wrapping your head around that somethings so sexy could be for Trent. After some trial and error, you finally found the outfit. You took a deep breath and tucked off into the changing room, slipping lace fabric against your skin, watching how it transformed you. When you stepped out, Layla’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my fucking god, he’s gonna pass out.” Layla laughed almost in disbelief as you stepped out of the changing room in a sheer black lace dress. It was strapless and pushed your boobs up, hugging you in all the right places. It was dangerously sexy. The dress was just the right side of bold. I mean, it was obvious but in a cool way. You checked yourself out in the mirror, feeling that same rush of excitement and hint of nerves you’d felt since you got the text. “This is perfect. It’s so fucking good — ugh I can’t wait to see his face. Nonchalant, my ass, he won’t be able to keep his hands off,” Layla grinned, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Do you really think this is enough?” you asked, adjusting the dress one more time, tilting back and forth to catch the way it moved on you. Layla smirked deviously making it very clear she had more ideas.

“Yes, but we’re not done… We’re getting you lingerie. If you want him to never think of you as Jack’s sister again, we have to make sure this look, this version of you is seared into his brain Saturday.” She grabbed your hand and dragged you to find La Perla navigating through the store with a determination that made you laugh despite your nerves. The idea of buying this all for your brother’s best friend was fucking insane but you didn’t want him to be just your brother’s best friend anymore. The delicate lace and silky pieces of lingerie were making you blush, remembering how gently he pulled your own panties off you that first night. And so with Layla’s guidance, you started sifting through options, feeling bolder with each choice. At first, you stuck to safe-ish options, something that could pass as an everyday piece—but Layla wasn’t having it. She held up a set that was anything but modest: something lacey that felt both elegant and dangerously seductive. You stared at it, feeling a jolt of confidence and a hint of nervousness.

“Actually just this,” Layla said, putting back the set and grabbing just a scrap of fabric, holding out to you with a smirk. “We do this, no bra, and the dress, that’ll erase any idea that you’re a little sister. You’ll walk in, and that’s the only thing he’ll remember.” You felt electric, standing there, imagining the look on Trent’s face when he saw you in the skimpy piece of fabric you were about to ludicrously pay £200 for. By the time you left Selfridges, you had everything you needed: the perfect dress, heels that made you feel powerful, and a pair of panties that would stay with him long after the night was over. Layla squeezed your arm. “By the way, Y/N… You’re not Jack’s sister, you’re you. That’s why he’s interested. And Trent is not going to forget it.”

That Saturday night was a whirlwind of desire and temptation. Trent’s private table was an oasis of luxury, tucked in the club’s exclusive area surrounded by footballers and bottles of liquor. The lights were dim, casting a seductive glow over the scene, and the air was thick with anticipation. When you walked into the club you were escorted to the area and Trent's usual composure shattered. He'd planned to keep it cool, but the sight of you in the dress threw his carefully crafted nonchalance out the window. His eyes traveled over you, taking in every curve with a hunger that made him feel both exhilarated and guilty. You were Jack's sister-his best mate's sister-but right now that was being erased. You were here… he wasn’t and now all he could think about was getting you close to him. Close to him so he could get his hands on you and those clothes off you. To keep things casual, he greeted Layla first, introducing her to his teammates so it wasn’t too obvious. But when he finally turned to you, it felt like the room silenced, as if nothing else mattered in that moment. Without a word, his arms wrapped around you, and his hands fell low, cupping the curve of your ass with a daring boldness that sent a surge of adrenaline through both of you. You nestled into him, breathing him in. The scent of him, a woody velvet encircled you wrapping you in the comfort of him. You didn't kiss though, you couldn’t, not out in public, but his touch told you everything. He wanted to. You wanted.

"You look so fucking sexy." He murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. You could feel his perfect pout move against the shell of your ear. The words came out low, rough, igniting a blush that you couldn't hide. You draped your arms over his shoulders, letting your fingers trail down his neck as you pulled him closer, eyes gleaming.

"It can be all for you," you taunted, leaving the promise hanging in the air before slipping away to greet Layla and the others. As you moved away, Trent exhaled, watching you move to greet some of his mates with an exasperated smile. It was going to be a long night, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could play it cool.

You and Layla seamlessly joined Trent and his teammates. It was easy. The energy of the night igniting a fire between you and him though. His eyes stayed locked on you, a mix of longing and mischievous intent as you danced with Layla. He wasn’t one to really dance so for the time being he continued on his quest to play it cool, leaned back on a couch watching you move. Even with distance between you two, the electric connection tether you to him. Your pulse quickening with every glance. In the dim light of the nightclub, the bass thrummed like a heartbeat in the air, creating a pulsing rhythm that matched the intoxicating sway of the crowd. The atmosphere was thick with a heady mix of laughter, music. The club’s DJ mixed a seamless transition of songs rolling one into the next, a 2010 classic you knew Trent loved. You smirked at him and strutted over, reaching out to him. Your hand extended, unsure if he’d take it. But he did, he grabbed your hand as you pulled him to stand up. Against his usual reserved demeanor to avoid dancing, he couldn’t resist you. The club pulsed with the rhythm of Jeremih’s mid 2000’s ‘Put It Down on Me’ vibrating through the floor and mingling with the heat of the room. As the beat of the music wrapped around you, you positioned yourself directly on top of Trent, your back pressed against his chest. The heat from his body radiated through the thin fabric of your dress, every movement heightened by the press of his strong frame. The boundaries between flirtation and something more had long since blurred. The pulsing bass of the club surrounded you, and as Trent's hands settled on your waist, every nerve in you ignited. He pulled you in, letting his fingers slip down, dragging you flush against him as you dragged your own hands down his strong arms before placing your hands overtop of his, guiding them over your body as you moved. You could feel his breath near your ear. The look in his eyes was electric, and as his hands caressed you, a thrill of anticipation for what could happen bloomed between you two. You pulled back just enough, tilting your head back to give him a shy, knowing smile that hinted you weren't about to play it safe tonight, that you didn’t want to. As the night wore on, Trent kept you on him and the drinks kept flowing, the boundaries blurred to a point where it felt like they didn’t exist at all to you. Any attempt to keep things casual had faded as you stayed pressed against him, feeling the heat of his body as you moved together to the rhythm. Your hips swayed, and Trent's hands seemed to find their way to every curve, guiding you as if the whole club had melted away, leaving just the two of you in the moment. The music wrapped you both in its seductive embrace, and every glance he stole felt like a secret promise. You found yourself feeling utterly alive under the spell of his charm. The longer his hands were on you, the more you wanted him, the more deliberate the way you moved against him got, you could feel him against you.

"You're gonna get me in trouble," he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice was low and teasing, but you felt the strain behind it, like he was barely holding back, on the verge of breaking. But he invited you tonight, he wanted this even if he was implying that you needed to be cautious. A smirk tugged at your lips as you glanced back at him, feeling bold. You reached up behind you, letting your arm drape back around his neck as you grinded against him, feeling his hands grip you tighter, the friction sending waves of pleasure through both of you.

"Good," you whispered back. Your tone was playful, a little challenging, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as they met yours. You let your free hand guide his up your body, tracing his touch from your hip slowly traveling up your side, over your ribs, the curve of your tits and finally resting on the curve of your throat. The placement of his hand was intoxicating, and Trent’s resolve wavered as he struggled to keep his composure. Trent’s breath quickened, his other hand’s fingers tightening around your hips as you guided his hand to stay on your neck as you arched into his touch more. He squeezed his eyes shut fast, fighting the surge of desire that threatened to overwhelm him. His fingers gently squeezed your neck, sending a shiver through you. Trent closed his eyes once more for another second, as if willing himself to stay in control, but you knew exactly what you were doing and he knew he wasn’t going to manage much longer, not like this. Every little touch, every brush of your skin, sent his mind spiraling back to the night you'd spent together. And so you continued, your hand guiding his, bringing it from your neck up to your lips. You took his hand in yours and slowly dragged one of his fingers over your lips, letting it linger there. Then, feeling daring, you kissed his finger before slipping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. You took the finger into your warm, wet mouth, your tongue circling it seductively. Trent's eyes snapped open, the tension clear in his expression. Trent’s breath hitched, his control slipping as the warmth and wetness of your mouth made his pulse race.

"Y/N..." he cautioned, his voice husky. He was trying to keep it together, trying to hold his composure, but you could tell he was barely hanging on and you wanted him to falter. The air around you was charged, electric with the intensity of the moment. The nightclub’s atmosphere seemed to amplify the tension, every beat of the music syncing with the quickened rhythm of your hearts. The intimacy of the gesture, the way you drew him into your world with such daring confidence, left Trent in a state of heated disarray. The private area, the pulsating music, and your body pressed against his created a searing contrast to the cool sophistication of the setting. He could barely think straight as you continued to tease him with your movements and your touch, each moment building towards a crescendo of irresistible need.

"Get me in trouble," you whispered a plea, your voice a soft taunt, challenging him to let go. You felt his breath catch, and for a split second, it seemed like he was going to give in, pull you closer and damn the consequences. His fingers dropped to tighten on your waist, his gaze intense, and you could feel his resolve crumbling with every second. The thrill of it sent a rush through you, knowing you'd pushed him to this point, both of you teetering on the edge of what came next.

Layla was watching with barely concealed amusement, a grin spreading across her face as she took in the scene, proud of her handiwork considering the dress seemed to be more than effective but then again, his fingers were in your mouth moments ago so it was a toss up what really was sending Trent over the age. But she wasn't the only one who saw you two– Trent's teammates had also noticed, exchanging looks that ranged from amused to confused. One of them leaned over to Layla, eyebrows raised.

"That's his mate's sister, right?" He asked earnestly. Layla chuckled, shaking her head.

"Oh is she ever," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That is one, sexy, ticking time bomb," She laughed. The music pulsed around you, bodies moving under the lights as Trent leaned in close, his expression intense. He’d had enough.

“You’re leaving with me. Right now.” He murmured seriously, the command laced with an impatience you could feel from a mile away.

“What do you mean? Why? ” Feigning innocence, you tilted your head. He bit back a smirk, annoyed but undeniably amused by your act. So he decided to play along.

“I mean, you just look a little hot, baby… Think you have too many clothes on.” He told you, making up a farce. His gaze trailed over you, lingering with obvious intent. His arm wrapped around you letting his massive hand run over your collarbone over to your shoulder and then down your arm brushing over your skin, slick from the club’s heat.

“I’m in a mini dress, T baby, I think I’m okay.” You whispered with a shrug, biting back a little laugh. He moved in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his fingers gripped your waist.

“I said, you have too many clothes on." He said more commandingly. A thrill ran through you, your pulse quickening. "Let me help you, yeah?” He cooed cheekily.

“Maybe you’re right. I think I need you.” You gave him a sly smile then glanced over to find Layla. After making sure she was all set for the night, she told you to go and you hugged her goodbye promising you’d check in to make sure one of the other boys got her home safely. She wasn’t exactly keen about leaving since she had hit it off with one of the other boys there. She shot you a knowing grin and a wink as you slipped away with Trent, his hand gripping yours with unmistakable possession as he led you through the crowd. You quickly mouthed a ‘love you’ to her, her smirk only widening as she watched you and Trent disappear. Trent tugged you closer to him, his hand dropping to your lower back to keep you close and protect as he guided you through the crowd and toward the exit. As he led you out to the private exit, his hand firmly grasping yours, you felt a giddiness wash over you. It felt surreal to leave somewhere like this with him. The alcohol and the adrenaline from the night's adventures had left you feeling fearless and carefree. You giggled as he dragged you along, your high heels clicking against the ground.

"Hey, slow down, needy boy" you slurred, attempting to match his long strides. "I can barely keep up with you.” You giggled. Trent needed to leave out the back for his car service to pick him up. He did it often but especially tonight, he couldn’t risk paparazzi. He looked at you, his expression torn between frustration and desire, his hand still warm in yours.

"I fuck… I couldn't... God, fuck baby… I hate that I can’t just…" he started, stumbling through thoughts you had a hard time connecting. His voice was rough as he struggled to find the words. But then his gaze met yours, and in a second, he was leaning in, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that made everything else disappear. The restraint he'd held onto all night finally snapped, and you felt his hands tighten around you, pulling you close in the back exit halls as if he couldn't get enough. “I need to get you home. Been dying to kiss you. I couldn’t take it anymore. Been driving me crazy all night." Trent chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“I want to go home, baby.” You playfully whined, your eyes sparkling with mischief. The cool night air hit you like a shock, but Trent's firm grip anchored you, his urgency undeniable. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into him, glancing around once over as if checking to make sure no one followed towards the car.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me when we get home?” He asked you and you nodded slowly but desperately. The lights from the club cast a hazy glow around you, making everything feel surreal. You got into the black car equipped with security that had waited for you two. The drive back to his place felt like an eternity. You were dying to get there but terrified to go at the same time. His hands were subtly all over you during the car ride building up the tension even more than you thought possible. The heat radiating off your bodies, and the way his gaze lingered on your lips had you desperate for him. As you approached his house, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

With a swift movement, Trent unlocked his front door and pulled you inside, his eyes dark with desire. The moment the door closed behind you, he crashed his lips against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. His kiss was aggressive, demanding, and it took your breath away. You responded eagerly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled back momentarily, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any hesitation.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? I don't want to push you too far. But I’m having a hard time controlling myself here" He asked earnestly. A wave of desire washed over you, and you knew you wanted this as much as he did, maybe more.

"Stop asking," you whispered, your voice laced with need. "Just fuck me, T. I want you to fuck me again. Make me cum again." A devilish grin spread across his face, and he wasted no time in taking control. His hands roamed over your body, unzipping your dress and roughly pulling it down, exposing your bare skin. He traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, down to the swell of your hips, and then back up, cupping your tits.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growled, his lips finding your neck, nipping and suckling on your sensitive skin. "You promised you’d be a good girl f’me. Yeah?" He smoke against your skin. You nodded as you arched your back, offering yourself to him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

"T, baby… don't hold back. I’m serious. I’ll do whatever you want. I want it rough. I want to forget everything but your touch." Trent’s eyes lit up. This was all still so new and he was more than excited to hear you talk to him like that. His hands moved with purpose, completely removing your dress freeing your heavy tits. He palmed them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples.

"Fuck, your tits are incredible," he groaned, his lips moving to capture a nipple, sucking it into his warm mouth. You moaned loudly, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through your body. His mouth felt incredible on your sensitive flesh, and you couldn't help but beg for more.

"Oh fuck, please. I need more." You cried out. He released your nipple with a pop, leaving it aching and tingling.

"You've always wanted me, haven't you, baby?" he teased, his voice laced with a hint of dominance. "Admit it, you've been craving my cock inside you since the other week." He growled. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. You weren’t sure you were ever going to get over how sexy it was to hear Trent talk like this to you, and it sent a thrill through your core.

"Yeah huh... I've always wanted you. You know I have,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I want you to use me,T." You weren't thinking it in real time but you almost didn’t recognize the words coming out of your mouth, you’d never been this down for a man before, so willing, so submissive.

“Fuck… Wear these just for me, baby?” He asked lust burning behind his dark mahogany eyes as he admired the La Perlas you’d worn exactly as he said... just for him. You hummed confirming. “Such a good girl for me.” Trent snickered, his hands moving down to the waistband of your thong roughly pulling them off you, exposing your glistening folds. You gasped. "I’ll buy you more baby, don’t worry. I know you… you like to be dirty for me. You’ve been craving my touch, my cock, huh?” Your skin was on fire under his touch, your pussy throbbing and dripping with need.

"Please, Trent," you pleaded, your voice hoarse. "Touch me, I'm so wet for you." He didn't need any more encouragement. His fingers delved between your legs, finding your swollen clit, and began to stroke and tease.

"Fuck, you're so fucking wet," he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "I love how you get so turned on by me." Your body trembled as his fingers worked their magic, circling your clit, sliding into your slick heat.

"Yeah– I fuck.. Oh my god. For you baby. Oh God, yes," you whimpered a jumble of words, your hips thrusting against his hand. "Right there, please, don't stop." You moaned. Trent's touch was relentless, his fingers plunging deep inside you, curling and stroking your sweet spot.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. I want to feel your pussy clench around my fingers." Your orgasm built rapidly, your body coiling tighter with each stroke of his skilled fingers.

"I'm gonna cum, baby!" you cried out, your voice hoarse and raw. He increased the pace, his thumb rubbing your clit in firm circles.

"That's it, let it all out. Cum for me, pretty girl.” He cooed as your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as pleasure consumed you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. “Good girl.” He gently praised you kissing your neck. As your tremors subsided, Trent gently removed his fingers, leaving you feeling sensitive and sated. He picked you up and brought you up to the bedroom, his eyes locked on you, your chest heaving as you came down, kissing his neck "Get on the bed f’me, baby," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste every inch of you." And so you did as he asked, your body still buzzing from the intensity of your climax downstairs. You laid back on the soft sheets, your eyes never leaving his as he stood before you, his erection straining against his trousers. With deliberate movements, Trent undressed, revealing his toned, sculpted body. He pulled his shirt over his head and your jaw slacked as his muscles flexed. Your mouth went dry as you took in the sight of him, his cock thick and hard, straining towards you. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, his eyes smoldering with hunger. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands caressing your inner thighs, spreading you open. "I'm gonna eat you out until you beg me to stop." You nodded. You were borderline delirious. The first time you had to be quiet, you almost had to be quick before but so far… this had been a complete 180 from that and it was proving to somehow be even better. His head lowered, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. He teased you, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, kissing over the faded remnant of his last visit to your core, making you squirm with anticipation. Finally, his tongue found your aching clit, flicking and swirling, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"Oh God, Trent," you moaned, your hands threading to grip his hair, holding him close. "Your mouth feels so good. Don't stop, please." He chuckled against your skin, his smugness palpable but you didn’t care, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine, it felt too good.

"You taste so sweet, baby. I could do this all night." His tongue delved deeper, penetrating your wetness, licking and sucking, driving you wild. You were lost in a haze of pleasure, your body responding to his every touch. His fingers joined his tongue, thrusting into your tight hole, stretching and filling you.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, please, baby!" you cried out, your hips bucking against his face. Trent's mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony, driving you to the brink of another mind-blowing orgasm. Trent could feel his cock getting so hard from hearing and watching and making you cum. He was almost about to explode himself but he needed to experience it again. He was obsessed.

"Cum for me again, baby," he urged, his voice muffled against your flesh. "Let me feel you squeeze around my fingers. Be my good girl again." Your body obeyed, the sensations overwhelming you as you tumbled over the edge once more. Your cries filled the room as your pussy clenched and spasmed around his invading fingers. As your tremors subsided, Trent slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving you breathless and spent. He rose above you, his cock poised at your entrance, ready to claim what was his. "You're so fucking responsive, baby. I love how you cum for me." You reached up, running your hands over his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your touch.

"I need more of you, T. Please, I need you inside me. I want to make you cum now, baby." You told him as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock teasing your wetness.

"Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear you beg." Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but your desire overrode any inhibitions.

"Please, T," you pleaded, your voice thick with need. "Fuck me, hard. I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to be a good girl for you.” Your words went straight to his cock. He smiled deviously and with one swift thrust, he slid inside, filling you completely, in your lustful haze forgetting condoms existed. Your eyes widened at the sensation of his thick shaft stretching you, taking you by surprise. "Oh my God," you gasped, your body adjusting to his size.

"You like that, huh?" he grunted, his voice strained. "You love my cock inside you, don't you, baby?" You nodded, unable to form words, your body already building towards another climax. Trent began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke hitting your sweet spot you’d never known before. “Take my cock. That’s it.” He growled, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for his possession. The pleasure was intense, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through your body. You matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your breasts bouncing with each impact.

"Oh fuck, baby. You’re so deep." you chanted, your nails digging into his back, marking him as your own. Trent's eyes rolled back as he pounded into you, his control slipping with each thrust. Your mind turning to mush. You couldn’t think of anything else but the roll of Trents hips. Each thrust clouding your mind more. His lips coming to kiss and suck on your exposed collarbone.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby. I want you to cum on my cock. I need to feel you– Fuck!” Trent grunted. You were wrong the first time, that wasn't the best sex either of you had ever had… this was. Your body was on fire, your pussy clenching and milking his shaft, desperate for his release.

"Cum inside me T," you begged, your voice hoarse. “I want you to fill me up, please." You whined. His thrusts starting to become sloppier. Hearing you say that made his mind go blank. He tried to ask you ‘what?’ Or ‘are you sure?’ But he couldn't process what you were saying. It turned him on too much to even think straight. “Please, I need you. I want to feel you cum.” You demanded wrapping your legs around his waist tighter, holding him to you.

“Baby…” Trent grunted, not sure what to do. He felt like he was glitching; he couldn't process both minds.

“I’m on birth control, please T… Do it, baby. Please.” You whined pathetically. It’s all you could think about. It’s all you wanted. You wanted to feel him. So you clenched around him and he moaned. He reached down between your body’s to rub your clit in sync with his rough pace.

“Yeah? Alright, I’ll give you what you want, baby. I’m gonna… fuck…” He babbled through words. You nodded as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“Oh fuck…” You whined as he hit your g spot again and again relentlessly. You gripped his biceps, nails leaving crescent marks on his tanned toned arms.

“Doing so good, baby. I got you. I’m gonna cum. Shit! Squeezing me so fucking tight.” He grunted still thrusting into you as his abs tensed. His eyes rolled back a little with deep breaths. He let out a guttural roar as he plunged deep, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. Wave after wave of his hot cum filled your depths, triggering another earth-shattering orgasm within you. Your body quivered as your pussy tightened around him. Your bodies convulsed together, locked in a blissful embrace as pleasure consumed you both. He slowed almost to a halt as his cock pulsed inside your warm pussy. He pumped you full of his cum, painting your insides. He caught your lips with a sweet kiss. As your tremors subsided, Trent collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He turned towards you though just in time to see your eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "You okay? Did so good f’me. You were incredible, baby.” He kissed your temple pulling you tight to him. He smiled, his eyes full of affection. You hummed but couldn’t get any words out just yet, completely spent. You snuggled closer, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. He captured your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. Trent kissed your forehead and rolled off the bed. “Stay right there f’me. One minute” He cooed softly.

“You’re perfect,” You giggled quietly as Trent returned with a warm towel gently wiping up your thighs and sensitive core. He was so soft as he worked his way around, cleaning you up, leaving kisses on your warm skin after it was wiped clean. He laid down next to you and you just stared at him appreciatively.

“Okay… all good, baby?” He tenderly asked. You nodded, pulling him into you. As you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, you knew that this night had changed everything. The secret you shared would bind you together, and the passion that ignited between you was burning brighter than ever before.

Naively, you hadn't exactly anticipated waking up naked and tangled in your brother's best friend's sheets after the club, feeling the steady rhythm of Trent's heartbeat under your cheek. As reality set in, you let out a quiet groan, a mix of bliss and uncertainty. You really liked Trent, but what were you both doing? What were you thinking? Sure you didn’t kiss at the club but anyone could've seen you together last night. Not to mention what happened in the privacy of Trent’s bed last night. This wasn't fair to Jack. Yet, the warmth of Trent's arms around you made it hard to think of anything else. Then suddenly you could feel those gorgeous brown eyes fixed on you.

"Stop staring at me," you giggled sleepily, sensing Trent's gaze on you as you lay draped across his chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing light circles on your bare back, pulling you from every nagging worry.

"Stop," you muttered shyly. "Also, you've 100% seen me sleep before..."

"Not like this," he replied, his voice soft but teasing. "Not in my bed, not on top of me, not naked... definitely not after we had sex." His smirk made you both laugh and blush, but you didn't pull away.

"Did I live up to your expectations?" you teased, hiding a bit of genuine curiosity.

"Surpassed them," he whispered, tilting your face to look at him. "From the first kiss," he added, his eyes warm, making you feel seen in a way that felt new and thrilling. You cuddled closer, sighing into his warmth, a quiet, affectionate

"My T..." escaping your lips in a soft murmur. Trent's lips curled into a smile.

"Yeah? Yours now?” He teased as a wave of embarrassment and surprise washed over you. You felt the urge to pull back, realizing what you'd just said. You felt it, you felt he’d been yours for forever but now with your arms around him it felt more real. You just regretted saying it aloud massively. But before you could say anything more to backtrack, he beat you to it. "Good. I like that." His voice was a gentle reassurance, grounding you in the moment. You couldn't help but smile, pressing closer into his embrace, thinking that maybe-just maybe-this was worth all the risk. You stayed in bed, savoring the lingering warmth and thrill of the night before, feeling like you were tangled up in the best and most complicated decision of your life. Trent stretched beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. He groaned, dramatizing his soreness.

“I gotta run to training, baby,” he murmured, sitting up, his voice hesitant. “But you know, like… where stuff is, or… I don’t know,” he added with a shy laugh, glancing over at you.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, trying to mask the slight guilt you felt for even being at his place. “I can let myself out.” You shyly told him. But Trent shook his head, looking at you earnestly.

“Nah, I don’t mean that. I meant…” He paused, then took a deep breath. “If you want, you could… hang out, y’know? Till I get back.” A small, hopeful smile played on his lips. He wanted more than just a hook-up, but he also didn’t want to push you too much, too soon. There was a fine line here. You knew each other so well already so it was hard to find the right medium.

“Okay…” you replied softly, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into his bed, feeling the comforting scent of him on the sheets. It was the softest, most comfortable place you’d ever been, and every inch of you wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling. Trent leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade, lingering just a moment. He rested his forehead there, warm and content. The quiet promise hung between you both, and when he finally pulled away, the smile on his face mirrored your own. This was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

That night and the following day made everything very real for you. You would text but it was tense. Not in a negative way, just in a dangerous way. It was flirty but cautious. Neither of you knew what the other wanted out of this. It was insane you were doing this, risking it all, but it felt far too forward to just jump into something like dating. It was hard not to wonder if this was all just a physical thrill for him. He could get any girl, so why just use you for that… But in any case you weren’t exactly going to stop him. The two times you had sex were the best of your life. The days after would unfold in a series of stolen glances and held-back smiles, a mix of excitement and uncertainty hovering between you and Trent. Now that you both knew how good the sex was, you made sure not to spend too much time alone, knowing full well how easily things would spiral. Whenever he’d text you something cheeky, it’d leave you grinning and tense all at once. The messages bounced back and forth, his words flirty but guarded, your responses mirroring the same cautious playfulness. Both of you circled around what you wanted, but neither quite daring to define it. The tension simmered, unspoken questions lingering. Did he just want something physical? Was this a fling, or was he holding back for the same reasons you were? A small part of you worried, wondering if he saw this as a thrill, something exciting but ultimately fleeting. But another part of you couldn’t let it go—not when the chemistry felt this real, this undeniable. Not after some of the things he’d said to you. So you found yourself slipping further into it… into him, savoring the anticipation, not ready to pull back even as you held on tightly to the ‘what ifs.’ For now, neither of you were stopping, and maybe that was all that mattered.

One evening, you returned home from a dinner with friends, laughter still lingering on your lips when you saw him there…Trent, perched at the kitchen island next to your brother, Jack. The ease you'd felt moments ago fizzled into something else entirely, a mix of excitement and nerves. You hadn't expected him to be here tonight, and the realization set off a charge between you that felt impossible to ignore. Trent's eyes found yours the second you walked in, and you saw something flicker in his gaze. The cocky confidence he usually wore so easily faltered; he swallowed, letting his eyes flutter closed for just a second, as if seeing you threw him off balance. He knew he should've texted to give you a heads-up, but he didn't know the rules any more than you did. Were there rules at all? There had been no conversations, no ‘what are we doing’ talks, only late-night touches and whispered promises that lingered like secrets. Now, here he was, in your space again, and the unspoken tension between you felt all the more real with Jack in the room.

Jack was hunched over, engrossed in a tub of ice cream as he scooped out of it directly with a spoon, clearly settled in the comforts of his own home. You walked over and playfully swiped a bit off the lid, the cold against your finger a welcome distraction as you licked it off. The whole time, you could feel Trent's gaze tracking every movement, his stare so intense you almost felt heat radiate off him. When you glanced up, his eyes were fixed on you, almost as if willing himself to look away. You sucked on your finger pretending to be innocent purring a ‘yum.’ He shut his eyes briefly, as though watching you was more than he could bear. Once the ice cream was cleanly off your finger and you knew Trent was locked in you casually peeled off the sweatshirt you had on, too aware of the way your shirt underneath it clung to your frame and you wanted to show him just that. As you pulled the jumper over your head, the fabric of your top underneath rose up, you watched as Trent's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the bare skin revealed beneath the hem. He mouthed ‘stop; at you, his eyes pleading, though his lips hinted at a smirk, like he was caught between amusement and frustration. You couldn't help but return the smirk, leaning into the innocence of the moment while savoring the effect it had on him. As you moved to brush past Trent's kitchen island stool, your hand slid against the cool countertop, steadying you as you sent him a flirtatious look. Jack, completely oblivious but mildly annoyed by your stealing swipe, reached for the ice cream tub and turned to walk back over to the freezer to put it away with a small grumble. Tren wasn't having your teasing though. As Jack’s back turned, his hand shot out, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer with enough possessiveness to make your breath catch. His fingers pressed into your side, holding you in place as he leaned in, his voice low and rough against your ear.

"Stop it," he whispered, his words a command masked in a tease, his breath hot against your skin. His smirk was still there, but you could sense he was barely keeping his composure. You swallowed, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly, each inch between you charged with electricity. “Thought you liked being a good girl f’me?” His voice was soft, teasing, and you felt his fingers flex against your waist. He chuckled under his breath. His fingers slid from your waist just as Jack shut the refrigerator door, your cheeks flushed as you stepped back, trying to steady your breathing and maintain the playful pretense. But the truth was, every touch, every glance was unraveling the control you'd both been clinging to. Jack turned back around, oblivious once more, but you and Trent exchanged another look, the kind that said everything you couldn't out loud. The thrill was undeniable, but beneath it all was a question that neither of you wanted to ask-was this just a game, or was there something more? And with Jack so close, both of you knew one thing: the stakes were only getting higher.

You headed up to your room, turning down the invitation to join Jack, Trent, and their friends who’d since come over for another movie night. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but being in the same room as Trent right now—so close, yet unable to act on how you felt—seemed like torture. And in addition to that torture you couldn’t do this to Jack. The touches in the kitchen were already unfair. Not in his own home. You needed space to cool down, away from the tension that always sparked whenever Trent was near. But once upstairs, your phone buzzed. It was Trent, and just seeing his name on your screen made your heart race.

The message read, casual but with an undertone you couldn’t quite place. You smirked, already forming a response in your head.

You replied, keeping it short and sweet, trying to play it cool. You didn’t want him to think you were avoiding him, even if part of you was. Seconds later, another buzz.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a little inside joke between you two. Trent always teased you about your habit of talking through films, but secretly, you knew he liked your commentary and questions. And now, you definitely knew he liked your company. Your fingers hovered over the screen as you typed out a response, trying to ignore how giddy you felt.

His next message came in almost immediately, and it stopped you in your tracks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to read it twice just to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Was he really asking what you thought he was asking? You stared at your phone, biting your lip as a wave of nervous excitement washed over you. This wasn’t a casual hangout invite—it felt like something more. Something you’d both been skirting around for too long. Your mind raced as you considered how to respond, trying to balance your excitement with the need to not come off too eager. You didn’t think it was a date but it was hanging out alone and not some sort of drunk lustful afterthought.

You finally typed, keeping your tone light, though inside, your pulse quickened. You didn’t want to give away how much this meant to you—not yet. You were relieved Trent’s reply came fast.

You flopped back onto your bed, covering your face with a pillow to muffle the excited squeal that escaped your lips. Your legs kicked the air as your mind raced. Was this really happening? The thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite suppress. You typed out your next reply, trying to keep your cool.

You typed feeling mildly braver.

Trent texted back, simple, direct, and flirty… and perfect. All of it somehow made it even more exciting. You tossed your phone onto the bed, rolling over as a grin spread across your face. You couldn’t even play it cool on the outside, inside, you were buzzing but your texts read calm… at least you hoped they did. Regardless, Trent and you had just decided the line was officially gone and you couldn’t wait to see what happened now.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 5 - Together or Apart xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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peachesofteal · 1 year ago

Note

ok i have a question- for the dead disco fics, if there was a situation where ghost had to choose between reader and soap, who would he choose? idk why im thinking abt this LOL

Hey babe, what is wrong with you? (I love this so much it scratches my angst brain just right) Why do you want to feel this pain? (I too, want to feel this pain...let’s indulge)

Ghost x Soap x female reader Dead Disco - verse AU - not canon to the actual story. Warnings-tags: Angst. Inferred character death. Darling's usual (eating issues, depression, anxiety, despair, self destructive behaviors)

The bed is too big, as it always has been. As it always was before, and during. And as it always will be for now on, too. Your legs spread across it, kicking and swishing across pristine sheets like you're swimming in them, like you're drowning. Drowning, is more apt. Drowning is more akin to these feelings that swimming, certainly. Drowning is how you feel right now, smothered in your loss, lungs full of water, burning from the salt of your own tears. You're at the bottom of the ocean, lost beneath where the sunlight doesn't reach, far beyond the swell of the waves. Drowning is what it feels like, when your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach heaves it's bile free. Drowning is how you would describe this black, bottomless hole that's developed soul, the one that pulls you deeper and deeper with every breath. Drowning. You've drowned. And no one was there to pull you to shore. To safety. No one was there to save you.

"I'm home!" Your bag falls to the floor with a thud as you toss your keys on the island, loosening your jacket and heading towards the dining area of the flat. "Holy shit, wait until I tell you about my day. My boss was on one today, she was being a crazy a-" the words die on your tongue when you finally look up and see the expression on Johnny's face. At first glance, one might call it grim, but for those who know him, who know to look closer, you see the red ting to his eye lids, the rub of drier skin around his nose. He's been crying. "What's going on?" you ask, looking from him to where Simon sits, stone faced. Immobile. Neither of them answer you at first. "Hello?" The knot that's been loosely tied in your stomach tightens. Simon nods at the free chair next to him. "Sit, darling."

There are two boxes, in your bathroom. They sit, full of things, clothing, items, trinkets, pieces of memories, pieces of love. They idle next to your bathtub, waiting, watching you, every time you drag yourself towards the toilet to vomit, or whenever you muster up the strength to look at your toothbrush. The boxes have sharpie scrawled across them, big loopy letters that almost look like mouths, almost look like they could grow teeth and talk to you, or eat you alive with what's inside of them. You supposed, they could. If you were to open them, and actually look at the things inside, they would consume you. Chew you up. Spit you out.

"I- I don't understand." You take a half step towards Johnny, who visibly flinches, face torn fractured with despair, while Simon's lips press into a hard line before he speaks. "We will make sure you're taken care of, we-" His voice is cold. So, so cold it scratches at your heart, pin pricks of icicles working their way beneath your ribs. "Stop." you shake your head, willing yourself to focus. What is he saying? What does he mean? "Simon, what... wh-what does that mean?" "Darling we're so, so sorry." Johnny's voice, is the opposite of cold. It's molten. Hot, and burning red with orange, thick with something you think is sadness. "You are sorry." You repeat it, numbly. You're not crying, which is a surprise to yourself and probably the two of them too. Your brain is really working now, hard. It's compartmentalizing and organizing and shoving little things away, burying others beneath mountains of sand and locking memories into boxes that you'll never be able to open. "You can't. You can't just leave me... you... you promised." Simon stands completely still, while Johnny shifts his weight nervously, fingers tangling with one another as he watches you like a hawk. Like a solider. "This will be better... for everyone." He tries to soothe you, tries to calm you, even from where he lurks, five feet away. Simon offers you nothing. "I don't understand, everything was fine. I thought... we were okay." Simon finally moves, shaking his head with a no while you watch, mouth ajar.

The boxes have been ripped into tatters now. They lay in shreds across the things in the bathtub, covering two t shirts of Johnny's, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of Simon's. Your silk bathrobe, and giant fleece blanket from the couch. There's also a book, a collection of photographs, a few pieces of jewelry. Worn index cards with recipes on them, Johnny's mum's, and a comic book, that Simon used to keep in his drawer of the bedside table. The final touch is the secret pack of cigarettes, the ones Simon used to keep in the closet, sans the one in your mouth. You inhale it slowly, breathing in the tobacco and the nicotine and the fumes of the lighter fluid, the entire contained dumped onto of the collection of things in the tub, waiting for your final flick. When it comes, you stay perched on the edge on the bath, barely interested, unmoving, as the fire rages. As it consumes.

"You fucking promised!" You scream. You scream it over and over until your throat is hoarse and Johnny looks panicked. Simon grips him roughly, sliding him half behind his body, as if to protect him from you. As if he thinks you'd hurt him. They both watch you with stricken faces, hunters tracking a wounded animal, and your breaths come in short bursts as tears track down your face. "You said you love me." It's barely a whisper, mournful and slow, and they both hear it. "We do." Johnny croaks. "We did." Simon counters, and you flinch. "But this is what's best, for all of us. It was always going to be him, darling. You've known this." It was always going to be him. It was always... going to be Johnny and Simon, over you. It was always going to be them, and not you. The truth stings, burns, bites. It twists it's wicked claws around your heart and tugs and tears until there's nothing left. You've known this. You idiot. How could you possibly believe, in the end, you'd still be in this equation? You'd still be a part of this? How could you possibly believe, that after everything, they'd still love you? Still want you? Simon's mouth moves, but you hear no sound. You hear nothing, as you turn on your heel and barricade yourself in the bedroom. You hear nothing, as they knock, and knock, you hear nothing, until the wood stops vibrating, and the front door open and closes with a final thud. It was always going to be them. You've known this.

"Bloody hell." Gaz whistles, eyes locked on the screen. Johnny wipes a towel across the back of his neck, mopping up the sheen of sweat that lingers there while Simon saunters through the rec room doors. "Christ. Didn't ya two live near there?" "Live where?" Johnny frowns, looking up. There's a heli eye view of a burning building on the news, it's entire structure engulfed in flames, firemen barely making a dent. The camera switches to a ground reporter, a pretty woman with a serious face, who's explaining that arson investigators believe the fire started on the ninth floor, where there's still a single person trapped, unable to be rescued so far by exhaustive efforts. Something glitches in Johnny's brain, something short circuiting while he blinks, and breathes, and blinks, trying to wrap his mind around what he's seeing. The ninth floor. Someone trapped. Didn't ya two live near there? The ninth- It's almost unrecognizable, but he knows. Of course he knows. The ninth floor, the ninth floor- His heart stops in his chest, and he turns frantically to Simon, who stands like a statue in the doorway, eyes wide and frozen. "No. Nonononono-" Johnny whispers. He stumbles, away from Simon, away from Gaz, eyes not leaving the television while he drops to his knees. "She- Simon." Simon doesn't answer, just stands, broken. Empty. Like a ghost. He has no words. He has nothing. And neither does Johnny.

#ghost x soap x reader #dead disco #peaches asks #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x ghost x reader

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theyluvlyss · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request if you can Hcs of all the ghost boys + Finney being in love ? ( Feel free to not add Finney since you wrote something similar before )

Xoxo 💋

𝐨𝐟𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧😌...

it's what I'm here for🫡♡. I really like the idea of writing about them being in love/having a crush rather than being with reader right off the bat !! very cool and unique idea (imo), and it definitely harbors that little difference in feelings/slight nuances that I'm very happy to expand on !

although it took me a bit, I've actually gotten most of the boys done already, and that's around when I gained the bright idea to just ... instead of making you wait, I remembered there's this thing called free-will, and I can quite literally post whatever and whenever I want lol😆 ...

meaning I can just post each boy for you one at a time as I finish them instead of waiting until they're all done and then making one long post :D !

on that note, here's finney's hehe...

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

while it's always fun to imagine (haha, get it💀) what it'd be like for him to be your best friend or your boyfriend, there's times when you yearn for that tension. that something in between that's more than a platonic relationship, but just short of being a lover. and I'm here to revive that feeling of what it'd be like for finney blake to have a crush on you...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x finney blake - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s - the grabber doesn't exist

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞��𝐭 :

cursing, as usual - small mentions of anxiety/nerves - finney being super cute lol - overall super duper fluffy and pretty much everything the prompt describes lmao.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

I know you said I didn't have to do him since I already have, but *adds that mf in anyway because he deserves round two of some lovins😆🫧💙🪩*.

Finney liking somebody/finding someone attractive is usually a dead-end deal. He keeps it to himself - buried deep down within the depths of his gentle soul, never to breach the light of day, because he knows good and well that even if it did arise, all it would lead to is rejection and - if he's extra unlucky - a teasing+beat-down combo attack from some known bullies of his (should they find out or be witness to these nonexistent attempts of confession).

A little depressing, I know, but bffr ... if you were Finney, would you do anything different🤨?

Althoughhhh....

Him having a crush on you, specifically, is very,,, confusing. Think of when you have a crush in real life, but you actually have a little bit more of a chance with them than usual. It's realistic. There's a sliver of hope. A light down in the depths of that depressing darkness.

It's like that.

And dare I say, he's fairly obvious about his liking towards you, but only if you're paying close attention.

If you're in a totally different clique, especially a popular one, just kind of in your own little bubble (which might as well be a whole new world to him), then the chances of you noticing/realizing his infatuation with you is very slim. Even in Finney's own case, he'd view you way out of his league, no chance whatsoever, so don't expect him to make any moves of any kind.

And on top of that (as I mentioned first thing), he'd do his damn best to not let ANYONE find out, ESPECIALLY Robin, Gwen, or Bruce, because the last thing he wants is for them to get overconfident on his behalf and try to set y'all up. What if you reject him?

Or worse, what if you end up liking Robin or Bruce instead of him? He wouldn't be able to take it. And lord knows he keeps his crush hidden from his bullies for highly good reasons. An even worse scenario in his mind than the last one is if they publicly teased him (or the both of you) about it, made a mockery of his feelings for you to witness and either join in or pity him - neither an outcome his ego and self-esteem were built to handle.

Now, the opposite - actually knowing him and/or being his friend - the case would probably still remain the same with only slight differences. He'd still find you out of his league, probably wouldn't make any bold moves. But, being his friend, closer to you, a little more comfortable around you, there may be times where he'd make the SLIGHTEST of nods to MAYBE, POSSIBLY liking you in a romantic fashion. JUST A LITTLE BIT.

BUT, he'd also be so worried and absorbed in his own head about all the different little things - am I impressing her? am I making her uncomfy? Does she already know? Does she not know and thinks I'm weird? Did she already think I was weird before I did that thing? Did she even catch onto that thing I did? Is she ignoring it? Is she ignoring me? Oh my god, she fucking hates me - that he lowkey wouldn't even consider the fact that you've been making more obvious moves on him this whole time.

He would probably end up liking you because of something you said or did. Like, depending on the situation, you said/did something that really resonated with him, or he found himself thinking about a lot. Which would then lead to him thinking about you a lot, and it's a spiral from there. Or, if already friends, it's probably something you did/said that had him now seeing you a new/different light, which, again, spirals from there.

Should anyone that's not you uncover the feelings he harbors, he's so the type to deny it. Gwen could be studying your behavior and body language up and down, and then report back to Finney with WRITTEN, PICTURE, PHYSICAL FUCKING EVIDENCE of you liking him/reciprocating the crush, and Finney would just be like, "...Nahhhh, you're just delusional, she wouldn't even notice if I disappeared the next day." And Gwen would just be like, "This bitch here😐..."

Either way tho, what I meant way earlier by "confusing" is that his version of (just barely) letting you know he likes you romantically is him just being,,, himself/friendly but a little bit more than usual LMFAO. Like, if y'all are friends and he always walked you to and from school, what he would do to further insinuate that he 💙likes💙 you is to just,,, walk you everywhere else🥴💀. Essentially be your moral support wherever you go lmfao.

Or like, besides doing stuff he really doesn't need to do that confuses you, he'd do things that kinda give the OPPOSITE of, "I'm literally in love with you." Avoid/not talk to you, avoid eye contact, stuff that just leaves you like, "...I don't think he wants to be my friend anymore🥲💔." LIKE BOY-!😭

But it's not intentional. It's just his nerves and doubts getting the better of him, y'know? Overthinkin, which leads to overreacting, etcetc., you know how it goes/what that's like lol.

So yeah, basic point, if the feelings aren't already made VERY CLEAR from the jump, don't expect things to get any clearer😻.

BUT, if after a while should he either gain a little more confidence (prolly from Robin) or you grow a pair and make the first bold move yourself (which would confirm it for him to be more comfy getting bolder himself as well), I feel like he'd still remain a little shy and mildly confusing, but very berry cute nonetheless.

I'm telling you, he'd put those crafting skills to work, hon👏🏽!! Just any chance he gets/has to either make you something or just impress you with something he's made, he's putting 1000% percent into it. I'm talking he's going broke, losing sleep, practicing what he's gonna say and how he says it - it's all going into whatever little (or big??) craft he knows you're going to see/he's gifting to you.

He'd also compliment you a lot, along with being more himself, which HELLO, he's so silly when he wants to be. I feel like he'd have you laughing a lot without exactly meaning/trying to, but HE'D FS CHERISH THAT like,,, every time he'd make you laugh, he'd just feel like he was on cloud nine - 'I made her laugh, I did that, me, she thinks I'm funny, she likes me, she's literally in love with me like I am her, otherwise she wouldn't be laughing so hard-'

...😃...Yeah, he takes what he can get and RUNS with it (which is why I think he'd love and is in need of lots of reassuring, plz take care of my baby😭🙏🏽).

On the topic of such, actually, it's kinda funny because it doesn't really affect his envy levels.

I don't think he'd get all that jealous if he saw you with other ppl; it would just be the thing of like,,, "That's what I get for getting my hopes up."/"It could be worse ngl." lmao which is sad on one hand but kind of mature on the other, yk?

Mature that'd he'd just leave it alone, not be pushy. But sad because wdym you think you're not worthy of some love/what you want out of life :( ? Luckily for him, though, I don't think he's able to hide disappointment/sadness very well.

Not that he's going around telling people, but he's just one of those "face/tone of voice says it all" kind of guys. So, depending on your thought process and if you can put two and two together, you're quick to squash any doubts of you being interested in someone else romantically.

"I'm not really into *state another persons features lol idk*. Not my type of guy..." which may or may not be you trying to guide him into asking your type, and he may or may not take the bait🤭.

No, but seriously, he literally may or may not catch on. There's definitely been a few times where he's missed the social cue, and on the inside, you're just like "😔🙄..."

He gets SUPPPPER flattered if/when you get jealous, tho. Like, I'd imagine it's a pretty rare occurrence (surprisingly to you, don't nobody be hitting on Finney Blake, okay💀✋🏽), but when it does happen, you're very quick to make it known you're hardcore crushing and liked him first, even going as far as to make it appear as if he's already taken.

You're hanging off of his arm more than usual or playing with his hand to keep him from fidgeting, you're staring at him with such a strong look of love-sickness in your eyes that might even cause the other girl to throw up, and should she even get as far as asking him out...? Oh boy...

"Actually, Finn, we were gonna hang out today, weren't we? I wanted to help you paint that rocket you're working on, I have the perfect colors in mind already...!"

"You...You do?"

"Yes, I do😃😐."

And the other girl just has to be like, "...I'll um,,,, Nevermind, Finney, I'll see you around."

"Maybe...!" You'll call after her cheekily, smile growing wider and wider as she trails away with Finney yet to even process the entire interaction at all. And while he might not catch on right away, the second he does, he's BEET red💀😭.

He doesn't know whether to admit he's smitten by your hostility or to let you know you don't have to be😭✋🏽. And more often than not, he'll opt for saying nothing at all, smiling to himself all shy while you're back to normal, talking as if you hadn't thwarted off a foe.

Confessing... That's not fucking happening, ever at all💀. And if he did, it would be on his death bed (I'm joking). But srsly, if he can avoid it for as long as possible, he will. The type to tell you on the last day of school, I'm talking GRADUATION DAY, right as one of y'all are leaving FOREVER, on some "I've always liked you..." type shit, and you would just have to be like, "WHYDIDYOUWAITSOLONGWHATTHEFUCK😭💔💔‼️‼️" Which is why I think it'd truly be up to you to confess (hopefully) way sooner😭💀✋🏽.

And if/when you did, he'd probably forget how to,,, exist lmao. Like, one of those moments where the information has to process in his head so he's just standing there looking at you like, "🧍🏻‍♂️:0" for a second before he's like, "o-OH!...I...I like you, too! And I have for- I mean... Like, it's been long. A long time. I've liked you a long time :D."

YOU KNOW WHAT?? If he felt he, himself, absolutely had to confess, he'd write you something. He's not Shakespeare or anything, but it would be much easier and less nerve-wracking for him to just write it all down. He'd hand it to you in person, apologize for the length of the letter that YOU HAVEN'T EVEN OPENED YET😭, and then practically teleport from the scene because he doesn't even wanna stay for your reaction. The fear of rejection is genuinely too much for him.

He'd be better off never hearing from you again if you didn't like him back rather than have you tell him to his face. ALSO, he'd give it to you in private. Wouldn't want to put you or himself on the spot, nor would he want to risk somebody catching him or you with the paper that has him pouring his heart out to you on it.

But, of course (because why else would you be reading this if you weren't expecting The Good Ending™), you're confused while opening and reading it until those feelings gradually begin to swell into a mixture of flatter, adoration, and just flat out love because not only had he FINALLY confessed to you...

But you had found it to be written quite beautifully, and it was overall the cutest thing that had ever happened to you, so now you have to return the favor - scribbling your response in some colorful pen color on the back of his own confession note, doodled with hearts and squiggly lines and all of that nonsense, leaving it in his locker - and letting the events take off from there.

Letting the relationship blossom from there🫧🥹🪩💙✨️.

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ��𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 !!

ik I say this literally every time I post something, but I really loved writing this, and it's because I LOVE WRITING; I love doing this shit, idcidc✋🏽😭✋🏽. if I could make a living off of this, I would, and I love seeing your guys' requests every day and reading through them over and over again.

and guys, let me tell ya', there isn't a better feeling in the world than completing and posting one, because whew...!! it's like having an endless supply of inspiration fr, I love it.

anyways, robin's will be posted soon after this one, so be on the lookout🫡😼 !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@in3rci4

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

2,103 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

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hugmekenobi · 6 months ago

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (9)

Chapter Nine: The Harbinger

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: As you're all awaiting word from Fennec, an unwelcome but familiar face comes to your aid

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, angst (reader and Omega fall out), fluff, limited (y/n), Ventress and reader get into it a bit, brief mention of blood, emotional hurt/comfort, nickname (sweetheart), reader being described as strong cause Hunter can't get enough of that lol, kissing

Word Count: 9K

Author's notes: Yet another chapter that gave me more trouble than I would've liked but I think it came out alright! Yet again @burningfieldof-clover came to my aid and I appreciate it sm! Hope you reader enjoy!

It was an unusually gloomy day by Pabu standards. Fog and dark clouds cast a shadow over the island but that didn’t stop the people from going about their jobs.

“Well, that’s the last of it.” Wrecker said as he lowered the crate for Crosshair to finish transporting into the sailboat. “Go catch something big to eat!” He tossed the fishing line to the fisherwoman.

“You got it, Wrecker.” She replied cheerily. “Thanks for the help, Crosshair.”

Crosshair only acknowledged the thanks with a grunt and toss of his head as he walked off.

Wrecker gave Crosshair’s shoulder a playful slap. “Aw, look at that. You made a new friend.”

“We checked the ship’s comms. Still no word from Fennec.” You said as you and Hunter came down the stairs to join the other two at the docks.

“Since when do we wait around for intel?” Crosshair queried.

You suddenly had one too many horrible flashbacks to your time with Cid.

“Well, she’s the only lead we have. If her contact can tell us what an M-count is besides what we already roughly know, we might figure out why the Empire’s targeting both Omega and you.” Hunter explained with a glance in your direction.

“We already know why they’d be after me. It’s Omega…” You trailed off as you saw the look Hunter was giving you. The two of had gone round and round in this debate since Teth when you’d also appeared on that target register. You maintained the position that you were unrelated to Omega and Hemlock so you shouldn’t be a priority, but Hunter thought that it was too risky to assume that now and so you both needed to be careful.

“Besides, does it matter? We’re not handing them over.” Crosshair said resolutely.

You inclined your head in both thanks and agreement at the sentiment.

“Can’t be prepared if we don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Hunter said before the four of you set off to go find Omega.

“Batcher, wait!” Omega called after the hound as she ran off down the beach, but the dog paid her words no attention.

Omega jogged after her to see her come to a sudden stop and her whines were filled with anxiety. “Batcher? What is it? What’s wrong?” She asked as she gave Batcher some reassuring pats.

Batcher turned towards the dark cave and let out a low growl.

Omega brought out her torch and examined it. “It’s just the cavern. We’ve been in there plenty of times.” But the dog seemed insistent that something was amiss. “Okay, okay, I’ll check it out.”

Omega wandered further into the cavern, and it was then that she came across something very peculiar. “Where did that come from?” She thought aloud as she stared at the unfamiliar ship in the cave. She ran up to give it a closer inspection, but Batcher’s retreating whines made her turn around. “Batcher? Where are you going?” She hissed but a chill ran down her spine as she turned and shone her light on the stranger that appeared.

“Hunter.” Crosshair pointed in the direction of Batcher who came running out in the distance, barking urgently in your direction.

“Where’s Omega?” You voiced worriedly.

The four of you didn’t wait to come up with an answer, instead you ran to meet up with Batcher and you came to a pause as you saw a strange woman dragging Omega out of the cavern.

“I wasn’t doing anything!” Omega grunted as she tried to loosen the stranger’s grip on her. “Let me go!”

“Hey! Let her go!” Wrecker ordered as you all made your way down to the cavern entrance.

“You heard her. Let her go.” Hunter repeated, his voice a low threat.

But you weren’t paying attention to the hold the woman had on Omega.

Instead, you took in her face as she stepped into the light and your heart stopped as you stared at the figure. She may have grown her hair out but there was no mistaking what you saw.

There was no mistaking the disturbance you sensed in the Force.

You recognised that face.

You recognised that raspy, sultry voice.

But what you couldn’t comprehend was the fact that she was actually standing in front of you.

You’d heard word that she’d died.

It may have been a futile gesture because if you could recognise her, she probably recognised you, but you moved your lightsaber out of sight anyway. You didn’t want to give her the temptation and you didn’t want to endanger the others with the confrontation that could unleash.

The figure subtly flicked her eyes over to you but said nothing. It wasn’t the right time yet. Instead, she responded to the clone’s demands. “Gladly.” She released her hold on the child.

Omega dashed over to the four of you.

“You know, for a rogue squad who are trying to lay low, you’re failing spectacularly.” She commented, unimpressed with the group in front of her. “Especially that one.” She looked down at the kid.

“And who are you?” Crosshair asked guardedly.

“Fennec sent me.”

“We never gave her our coordinates. How’d you find us?” Hunter questioned.

“I have my ways. I hear you’ve been asking questions about M-count.” She came closer to you all and crossed her arms. “Very reckless to inquire about such things. It attracts the wrong kind of attention.”

“And why is that?”

“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” She shot back. “First, tell me why you want this information.” But she was met with a firm silence. “Consider it my payment.”

“We already paid Fennec for the intel.” Hunter said.

“Not my problem. Either talk or I go.”

No one talk, no one talk. You begged internally as the others all crossed their arms and stayed quiet.

“It’s for a friend.” Omega said hastily.

It took a lot of willpower to hold back the expletives than ran through your head.

“The Empire’s after her, and she thinks it’s because of some M-count experiment they’re doing.” Omega continued, stumbling slightly over the words. “But we don’t know what that means.” She didn’t divulge what you’d already theorised and dismissed because that could endanger you.

You loved Omega, but fuck did you wish she could be a little better at lying. You then noticed the icy blue ices flit towards you again, but it was so quick, you knew the others hadn’t picked up on it.

“It’s something in the blood. Everyone has it, but at varying levels. Those with a high count, were believed to be more capable of wielding the Force.”

“The Force? You mean Jedi.” Hunter realised. He and Crosshair closed ranks whilst Wrecker put his hands protectively on Omega’s shoulders.

You stayed rooted to the spot, but felt the confused glances being sent your way and no wonder- that had been the one thing you’d ruled out instantly and now it was being suggested again. There was no way you’d been that blind… you couldn’t have been that blind to something like this, could you?

“You’re saying I’m a Jedi?” Omega gasped excitedly before she realised that she’d already given the lie away. Then another type of realisation hit her. She looked over at you only to find you frozen where you were, the only sign of life being the look of alarm on your face. “Wait-”

“Of course not. Your blood doesn’t make you a Jedi. You’d have to be trained for that. And I’ve never known a clone to be Force-sensitive. But clearly, none of you are normal.”

Okay, that was supporting what you’d already said at least.

“You got that right.” Wrecker said proudly.

“The Kaminoans did make millions of you. So I suppose it’s possible. But if you do have a high M-count, consider yourself warned. The Empire will hunt you down.”

Again, those eyes darted between you and Omega.

“There’s your intel.” She finished and turned to walk away.

Omega shrugged out of Wrecker’s hold and darted in front of her. “Wait!”

“Move, child.”

“So is that why the Empire’s been after me?”

“I can’t determine your midi-chlorian levels without testing you.”

“Then test me. I can handle it.” Omega insisted.

Your stomach dropped to your feet and your blood ran cold as you heard those words. “No.” You blurted out.

The others all looked at you in surprise since that was the first time you’d spoken or moved since arriving.

“No. You’re not testing her.” You said again, more forcefully this time and you walked closer to the two of them and placed yourself between her and Omega.

“(Y/N), stop.” Omega tried to get you to move but you weren’t budging.

“You should listen to her, child. The truth is rarely comforting.” The woman stalked off and waited further inside the cave. She already knew the outcome of what was to come.

“Why can’t I get tested?” Omega demanded, her brow furrowing in anger as she looked at you.

“Because she’s dangerous!”

“But she wants to help me!”

“She’s not just anyone, Omega. That’s Asajj Ventress and you’re not going near her!” You said protectively.

The name meant nothing to her, and Omega just shook her head. “Or is it because you don’t want me to be like you too?”

In a way you didn’t because you knew the added danger that would put her in, but you knew that wasn’t what she was implying with those words. You took a step back in shock, “No, Omega, I swear I-”

“You never told me about these tests. I need answers and she’s the only one prepared to give them to me! You could have but didn’t!”

And that very fact was going to haunt you. You looked at her imploringly. “Omega, please-”

“I need to know what I am, and you were never going to let me find out.”

Your throat closed up as you heard the betrayal in her voice. “Omega-” You breathed as you attempted to reach for her, but she stepped away from you.

“No. You had your chance.” With that, Omega and went to stand in front of the woman she now knew as Ventress.

“Just remember, you asked for this.” Ventress said to the young clone.

Hunter tried to catch your shoulder, but you just powered past him.

Stay with Omega and do not let her out of your sight. You said to him as you shoved through the rest of them.

Hunter still found himself torn as he watched you leave. He took a half step in your direction before he paused and turned in the direction of Omega and Ventress.

“I’ll go.” Crosshair offered. “We need to check Tech’s files to see if she’s right and you two should stay here first.”

Hunter nodded his thanks before he and Wrecker followed Omega and Ventress into the cavern.

You anxiously paced up and down the corridor of the Marauder. How had you messed up this badly? The answer had been staring you in the face! But instead of covering all your bases, you just rejected it without thinking! In your urge to keep Omega safe, you had done the very opposite and you’d hurt her. The one thing you’d never thought yourself capable of doing and you’d done it. And now you had pushed her in the direction of a Sith assassin! “Fucking dammit!” You shouted as you punched the wall, the emotional turmoil you were experiencing in the Force meant the area you had hit caved in on itself.

“Oh, good. I never liked that wall.” Crosshair drawled as he stepped on board.

You heaved an irritated sigh as you rectified the dented metal. “Why are you here? You need to be back at the cavern.”

“You dropped a pretty big name. We need to make sure you’re right. I mean, we can’t just take your word for it anymore- in case you’ve forgotten why we’re now in this mess.” He added pointedly.

You turned your head to sharply in his direction, “I’m very fucking aware.” You snarled as you retreated to the cockpit and started pacing again.

“So, you got something wrong, it happens.” Crosshair said nonchalantly as he pulled out Tech’s datapad and brought up his old files.

“This is a pretty big something, Crosshair.” You snapped as you collapsed into a seat in the cockpit, but your leg continued to bounce restlessly. “But it’s definitely Ventress and she shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near Omega.”

“Or you.” Crosshair reminded you as he continued to scroll through the files.

“I don’t fucking matter right now.” You said angrily as you stared at the floor.

“There are four people that would disagree.” Crosshair replied before he went still as he found the correct file. “Well, you can at least say you were right about this.” Crosshair showed you the older image of Ventress but there was no mistaking the similarities. His body language and voice were more serious now.

“Get Omega out of there but do not engage Ventress.” You wished you could go with him, but if you went back in your current emotional state, there was no telling what might happen.

“This is the test?” Omega asked as she struggled to maintain her balance. She had done as Ventress had instructed and stood with her arms out and one legs raised whilst the other foot stood on the wet rock. She was supposed to balance like this and keep the fruit on top of her head, but she kept sliding.

“One of them.” Ventress replied as she stood behind her.

“But the rock is…” Omega grunted as she had to catch her balance again. “…slippery. Can we go someplace else?” But Ventress didn’t answer so she asked another question, “How does standing on one-leg have anything to do with M-count?”

“You’re focused on the wrong things. Stop trying to have balance. Let go of your conscious mind.”

“ ‘Conscious mind’?” Omega repeated. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Ventress merely sighed and caught the fruit mid air as Omega fell forward. “Try again.” She tossed the fruit back to her.

“Come on, Omega! You can do it!” Wrecker cheered supportively as he and Hunter stood further back in the cave.

“Why don’t you two make yourselves scarce?” Ventress requested as she looked at them.

“She doesn’t leave our sight. And neither do you.” Hunter replied coldly.

“How fun for me.” Ventress said dryly as she kept her eyes on them but caught the fruit as Omega fell over. “Again.” She brought her focus back to the kid and gave her the fruit back.

Omega did find herself curious as to how you already knew Ventress and how she was aware of these tests. “Since you know about these tests, you must be a Jedi, right?” She placed the fruit back on her head.

“No, but I know some of their ways.”

Omega’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But how do you-”

Ventress gripped Omega’s jaw and covered her mouth. “Enough questions. Concentrate.”

Omega inhaled and exhaled deeply and worked on grounding herself in the current moment.

Hunter and Wrecker kept their eyes on the two of them as they wandered over to meet Crosshair who had re-entered the cave.

“I checked Tech’s files from the Republic archives. She was right.” He showed the others the screen. “Asajj Ventress.”

Hunter took that in before he got ready with his next question, “And how’s-”

“As you’d expect.” Crosshair responded. “But she’ll be fine once we deal with this.” He said as he jutted his chin over to Ventress.

“Why would a Separatist assassin be helping us?” Wrecker wondered.

“Who says that’s what she’s doing?” Crosshair countered.

The distrust that Ventress had already been sensing from them was now coming to a point and she readied herself for what was about to happen. But first, she needed the kid out of here. “Well? What happened?” She asked as she heard the child fall over yet again.

Omega sighed, “I told you. It’s too slippery.” She gratefully took Ventress’ outstretched hand. “I’ll start over.”

Ventress saw out of the corner of her eye that the three clones had advanced towards her. “No need. We’re moving on to the next test. There’s a weeping maya tree up in the colonnade. Retrieve one of its white blossoms and return before the sun sets.”

“It’s too far away.” Omega protested. “And- well the sun’s already started s-” The look Ventress gave her silenced any further arguments so all that was left to do was start running.

Ventress kept her back to the clones. “Now that she’s gone, let me give you some advice. Whatever you’re planning on doing won’t end well for you. The one that could actually challenge me is no longer with you.” She turned and felt into the Force around them, and the words got reaction she expected, but there was a different type of intensity from the clone with the skull tattoo and that intrigued her. She walked a few paces. “Think carefully. How do you want this to go?” She studied the unfriendly faces. “You asked for my help. Remember?”

“That’s before we realised who you are.” Hunter said. “Now leave.”

“You know, she knew very well who I was, and if she’d done her job right, I wouldn’t need to be here.” Ventress goaded.

“Leave.” Hunter repeated firmly, doing his best to keep his reactions steady.

But he couldn’t control the ripple in the Force around him that Ventress picked up on and she grew even more curious as to the relationship between the two of you. “I’ll consider it, once I’ve finished testing Omega’s abilities.” She saw the shared looks between them and decided it was time to test how far their protectiveness extended. “Or maybe I’ll stick around here a bit longer.”

“Wrong. Get in your ship and go. Before we make you.” Wrecker threatened.

“You can try.” She crooned.

“We’ve taken down worse.” Crosshair retorted.

“So have I.” She summoned the Force and took their blasters from them. “No cheating.” She said in a sing-song voice before she welcomed their attack.

You were feeling more level-headed now and decided to head to the cave since there was no sign of the others yet and if there was anything you could do to help with the process, that’s what you were going to do.

You stepped out of the Marauder and lightly jogged down the winding levels of Pabu, but a figure bumped into you just as you came down one of the staircases, panting hard. “Omega? What are you doing here?”

“Can’t talk. Need… to find Batcher.” Omega said breathlessly as she tried to dart past you.

“Hold on.” You caught her upper arm. “Why? Where are the others?”

“They’re… back… at the… cave.” Omega managed to get her breathing under control. “Ventress told me to go. It’s the second test and I’ve got to get to the maya tree and back before sunset!”

“Ventress sent you out?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head. “And the others are still there?” You double checked, your panic growing by the second.

“I just said that! Now I’ve got to go!”

But you’d already released her and had started to sprint in the direction of the cave.

Omega watched you go in confusion. That hadn’t been the reaction she’d expected- you had looked… worried? She didn’t have time to linger over it. She whistled for Batcher as she heard the familiar bark. “Hey, girl. I’m gonna need some help. I need to get to the Archium, and fast.” She hopped on Batcher’s back.

The sight of the three of them at her mercy sent a stab of cold fear through your heart. Crosshair was hunched over and holding his ribs in agony but what terrified you more was the fact that Ventress had Wrecker in a Force-choke whilst her blade was pointed at Hunter who was sprawled on the cave floor.

And while your mind may have jumped to slightly more ill-timed and inappropriate scenarios upon seeing Hunter’s legs spread like that, you quickly brought your concentration back to the issue at hand.

You called on the Force and pushed Ventress into the cave wall. You then heard Wrecker’s coughs and gasps for air, and you saw in your peripheral the way Hunter attempted to stand up. Stay down. You told him as you kept your eyes fixed on Ventress.

Ventress pushed herself up off the floor and wiped away the blood that dripped from a fresh cut on her mouth. “I was wondering when the Jedi would come out to play.” She sneered as she reignited her lightsaber.

She advanced towards you once more. “I wonder if you’ll even provide me with more of a challenge than that lot- not a very impressive bunch. I could do you a favour by ridding you of them, particularly that one.” She scorned as she looked to the clone with the skull tattoo. She sniggered at you as she sensed swell of emotions in the Force around you that proved her suspicions.

You glared at her and clenched your jaw but said nothing, you only unclipped your lightsaber and ignited it. The blue blade came thrumming to life as you let the connection between you and the weapon flow through you.

Ventress swung her lightsaber towards the centre of your chest.

You blocked her move and the fight between you got underway.

The others could only watch the two of you in quiet awe. Yellow and blue blades clashed against each other in well-timed and well-placed strikes. Both of your movements were so fluid, it looked like the two of you were engaged in a coordinated dance- only the stakes were much greater in this. And it was far more tense to just watch.

You were on the back-foot, there was no denying that fact, Ventress had a higher skillset, and you were out of practice. You’d only really been able to work on deflecting blaster fire and going over the different stances and fight positions could only get you so far.

But what did give you an edge was that you were fighting for your family and the people you loved and that gave you a different type of strength which kept you in with a shot.

Ventress continued her aggressive assault, but you were blocking her strikes with a degree of finesse she hadn’t been expecting. You weren’t backing down as easily as she thought you might. She had thought the argument with the child and seeing the clones in danger would unbalance you, but it seemed to fire you up and there was no loss of control. Clearly emotions didn’t distract you like they used to do with your fellow Jedi, so she had to push them in a different direction, “Falling for a clone? What would your precious Jedi Council say?” Ventress provoked again as she swung her blade around for another strike.

“Well, lucky for me they’re all dead.” You snarked back as you redirected the next jab of her lightsaber into the cave floor before you flipped over her head. But you didn’t turn in time, and she was able to land a harsh kick to your side that sent you stumbling to your knees.

You barely had time to stand up before she was on you again. You angled your blade up as she brought her blade down towards you. Your front left leg bent forwards whilst your other leg was in a lunge behind you, your knee down towards the ground and your back arched as she pushed yours closer to your face.

“I remember you. Your master died on Felucia didn’t he? During a recon mission.” Ventress said cruelly as she held her blade on top of yours.

You felt your foot slide behind you as she pressed her blade against yours, but you weren’t going to let her words unravel you- she wouldn’t win that particular fight with you. “I’d rather that than know he got bored and just left me for dead.” You smirked as you saw the words had the intended effect. You felt the wave of emotion that surged around her, and you felt the pressure against your blade drop which meant you were able to push back against her.

You pulled your blade away from hers and landed a sharp kick to her stomach to create some distance between you both. “What’s the matter, Ventress? Still not over Dooku dropping you without a second thought?” You mocked.

Ventress snarled and lunged for you again.

Her moves were becoming more undisciplined, so they were easier to block and gain the upper hand. “I don’t know how you still showed your face after that, if my master pulled something like that, I’d be pretty fucking humiliated.” You continued to press as she now became the one who had to block your strikes.

Ventress backed off for a moment to regain the composure she was surprised to find she’d so quickly lost. She’d underestimated your emotional control and you’d managed to turn things around rather rapidly. If she wasn’t careful, the outcome of this would not be favourably for her.

You didn’t give her much time to recover. “And since you want to talk about falling for people, why don’t we talk about Quinlan?” When you’d first heard rumours of her death, that had been a familiar name to go along with it, so it had been a gamble to use it, but it worked. It had been the breaking point you needed to hit.

Ventress released an enraged shout and lunged forwards.

You ducked under her uncoordinated swing, but it was a move that also left you vulnerable and she gathered herself quicker than you’d anticipated.

As you rose and jutted your blade out, it stopped by the side of her neck just as hers stopped by yours. You could feel the heat from the blade as it hummed against your skin, but you did not flinch.

You did not falter.

You held her stare.

And waited.

“I’ve got the white blossom! Wh- what’s going on? Stop!” Omega shouted as she re-entered the cavern and saw the way her lying on the rocks, brothers were beaten and sore, and how you and Ventress were standing off– your blades at each other’s throats.

“She’s been lying to you, Omega. She’s a war criminal.” You said you did not yield to Ventress yet.

“Times have changed. Something you all should be familiar with.” Ventress replied.

“We are not the same.” You growled.

“No? Clones and Jedi were pawns in the same war as was I. And we all lost.” She disengaged her lightsaber first and stared you down. “The Empire is more dangerous than you could possibly fathom. I’m many things but I am not your enemy. Not anymore.”

You breathed heavily as you looked at her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, not when she could’ve killed them and decided not to. For that reason, you found part of yourself believing what she said. You deactivated your blade and watched her go to her ship.

Omega dashed over to the others to make sure they were fine.

You reattached your lightsaber and placed your hands on your hips as they all got to their feet. “Everyone alright?” When they nodded, you spoke more sternly and more seriously than you ever had with them before. “Good. All of you get to the Marauder right now.” You turned on your heels and made your way out the cave.

“Uh… are we in trouble?” Wrecker asked Hunter apprehensively, his throat still slightly sore from experiencing what he just had.

Hunter let out a knowing sigh as he watched you go. “Yeah, we’re in trouble.”

The others could only watch and listen from their seats as you strode up and down the cockpit- each step punctuated by a new reprimand.

“Of all the irresponsible…”

“Thoughtless…”

“Misguided…”

“Reckless…”

“Idiotic…”

“Foolish…”

“Rash…”

“And downright stupid plans that you could come up with… that was by far the worst one!” You stopped mid stride and faced them all. “You do not go up against a Sith assassin with just three people and blasters! That was a fight you were never going to win!”

“Hey, we were just getting warmed up.” Wrecker protested but your answering glare had him looking down at the floor sheepishly.

“And you! Exactly what part of ‘do not engage’ was unclear?!” You said heatedly in Crosshair’s direction who just shrugged and continued to chew his toothpick, but you saw a flash of regret behind his eyes. “She could’ve killed you guys; do you understand that?!”

“Sweetheart-”

“No!” You shook your head at Hunter to stop him before you continued, “She could’ve killed you all if I hadn’t shown up in time!”

“You did.” Hunter reminded you gently.

“But I didn’t!” You tossed your hands in the air and then gestured to each of them, starting with Hunter. “She had a lightsaber pointed at your neck!”

You then focused on Wrecker. “She was choking the life out of you!”

Then you shifted to Crosshair. “And you were out for the count keeled over in pain, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to finish you off!”

You addressed them all as a group again, “I don’t know why she didn’t follow through, but she could’ve ended everything right then and there, and I wouldn’t have arrived in time to stop it.” The thought took the wind right out of you, and you inhaled sharply and braced your hands on your knees. “You are all I have left. I can’t lose-” You straightened up. “I can’t lose any of you.” You repeated softly. “Not like that.”

Hunter slowly got to his feet and walked over to you. He put his hands on your shoulders to reassure you, “We’re okay.” He said, his voice a quiet murmur as he looked at you. “We’re okay.” He whispered again as he brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek.

You felt some of the stress and upset evaporate under his touch, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to owe someone like that something?”

“Can’t imagine it feels great.” Hunter acknowledged, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You managed a small smile of your own before you pulled away and looked over at Omega. “You’re done. No more tests.”

Omega frowned at you. “No way! I passed one of them and she still has more she can show me!”

“Omega, I’m telling you she can’t be trusted. You don’t know the things she did during the war. All of us do.” You replied, doing a broad sweep of the space to the rest of the squad.

“Okay, but it’s like you said, she didn’t kill them when she had the chance. She can’t really be as bad as you say.” Omega rebuked.

You hung your head with a sigh, “Omega…”

“I don’t know much about the war, but things are different now. People can change.”

“You’re being naïve.” Crosshair chimed in.

“I never gave up on you, did I?” Omega pointed out.

That made Crosshair pause and reflect more on the situation than he would’ve initially liked.

“I say we give her a chance.” She then looked glumly down at the floor, “Besides, Ventress hasn’t held anything back from me.”

Your breath caught in your throat and suddenly the ship began to feel incredibly small. You hurried outside.

Hunter immediately got up to follow you out, but he stopped and glanced down at Omega. He knew how badly she needed to know the truth of her situation and it outweighed the concerns the rest of them had. “I trust you. We won’t interfere but at the first sign of trouble, it stops. Understand?”

Omega nodded gratefully.

“But you need to ease up on her. She knows she messed up, but she cares about you, Omega, don’t forget that.” Hunter said before he walked out the Marauder and over to the maya tree where you were now sitting.

“She’s right. She’s completely right.” You said as Hunter approached and sat down next to you.

“You need to imagine how Omega feels. To her, it seems like you deliberately kept something from her that could give her more common ground with you. She looks up to you, if she knew there was a chance of something that could bring you and her closer, of course she would want to latch onto it. You can’t blame her for wanting to know.” He said honestly as he squeezed your thigh in comfort.

You brought your head back against the tree trunk and stared up at the night sky, “And that’s what kills me. I should’ve been the one to help her find out the truth, instead I just kept her in the dark and thought I knew best.”

“You’re putting too much blame on yourself. You’re human and you made a mistake. It doesn’t-”

Your frustration got the better of you and you got to your feet. “Who else am I supposed to blame, Hunter?! This is on me! I hurt Omega! I let her down!” You blinked back the angry tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.

Hunter stood up and tentatively reached for you. His eyes softened in concern as he saw the anguish written across your face and it pained him to see you so affected by this. “Sweetheart-”

You began your distressed pacing again, “I could’ve tested her; I know how to, and I didn’t! If I hadn’t just rejected the possibility of her being like me and actually done the tests, Ventress wouldn’t have stayed, and we’d be no worse off than we are now! Instead, Imight as well have guided Omega to her! And I endangered the rest of you in the process! All of you could be dead because I couldn’t do one simple thing!”

“Stop.” Hunter caught your wrist and stepped in front of you, but you averted your eyes from his. “Look at me.” But you ignored him. “Please, look at me.” He said soothingly as he delicately tilted your chin up.

Your throat bobbed with the effort of keeping the tears at bay.

Hunter stroked a hand through your hair, “Everything is going to be okay. Omega’s a good kid, she’s just hurting right now. Give it time and you two will be alright.” He pulled you to his chest and held you close. “She’s still a clone, still one of us. Loyalty runs in her blood. She’ll come around.”

It was automatic the way you relaxed into his hold and wrapped your arms around his back. She’s doing another test tomorrow, isn’t she? You asked as you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

“We can watch from a far but we’re not interfering unless we have to.” Hunter murmured as he pressed his lips to your temple.

You heaved a deep breath but accepted that that was to be the course of action.

“Come on, we should get some rest.” Hunter released his hold on you and intertwined his hand in yours as he led you back to the ship.

“No chaperones today?” Ventress observed as the young clone came to stand next to her as she waited by the docks.

“Nope. You said, ‘no distractions.’”

Ventress only glanced down at the hound that remained by the girl’s side. “I’m surprised you came to find me. I can’t imagine your Jedi friend is particularly pleased about this. They all must have told you about the things I’ve done.”

“They did.” Omega said animatedly. “But you also stuck around instead of leaving, so I think you’re trying to help me. And you may have history with (Y/N) but you like us. I can tell.” She added victoriously.

“You’re an odd little clone.”

“Thanks.” Omega replied cheerily. “So what did the tests tell you?”

“You failed the first one.” Ventress said as she passed her by and headed for the boat.

“But I passed the second. That has to mean something, right?” Omega reminded her optimistically.

“Hmm. We’ll see.” Ventress boarded the ship. “Get in. Time for your final test.”

Omega bid Batcher farewell before she too stepped aboard and offered Ventress a warm and sincere smile.

“Stop smiling. It’s unsettling.” Ventress griped as she clicked the controls that would set the boat in the direction of the open sea.

“Should we be out this far?” Omega asked. She could barely see Pabu anymore; the clouds had grown darker and there was more of a fog out here.

“It’ll be easier to concentrate.”

“On what, exactly?”

“Many who wield the Force have an affinity for nature. They connect with things that respond to their energy.”

“Oh! I know about that! (Y/N) has done it a bunch of times!”

“And yet she never thought to show you.”

Omega glanced away to mask her reaction to the comment.

Ventress rolled her eyes. The attachments between you all were so glaringly obvious, it was no wonder the child had not been exposed to the potential of a Jedi way of life. You undoubtedly didn’t want to risk her safety any more than what was at play already. “Now’s your chance to give it a try.” She brought one of the rudders up to the surface for Omega to stand on.

Omega stepped onto it and awaited further instructions.

“Close your eyes and reach out.”

“For what?” Omega queried uncertainly.

“Everything.”

Omega took the cryptic advice and began.

Wrecker lowered his macrobinoculars. “I don’t like this. We should be out there with her.” Wrecker said with an uneasy sigh.

“We gave Omega our word we wouldn’t intervene.” Hunter reminded him, taking his sights away from his own binoculars.

“You did.” Crosshair interjected.

“Besides, Ventress won’t do anything right now. She’ll know you’re watching.” You said unhappily as you leaned against the stone column, one foot braced behind you, arms crossed.

Wrecker raised his binoculars again. “We’re so far away, there’s no chance…” He trailed off with a shocked gasp as he saw Ventress looking directly in his line of vision. “How’d she know we’re watching?!”

“Same way I’d know.” You grumbled.

Omega released a frustrated grunt and opened her eyes. “Forget it.”

“Giving up so soon?”

“This isn’t working. I don’t feel anything. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing.” Omega replied, her voice rising in aggravation. “This is a waste of time.”

“I blame those four overprotective shadows for your lack of training and discipline.” Ventress said critically.

Omega turned to her and rested her hands on her hips indignantly. “I am trained.”

Ventress got to her feet. “This is different than being a soldier, something you’d know had the Jedi told you of your possibilities. Even if you have Force potential, they can’t show you how to tap into it and she certainly won’t- she’s too worried about what other danger that could put you in to allow you to explore that.”

Omega lifelessly jumped back into the boat, sat down, and crossed her arms. Even if Ventress was right, you were all still her family and she couldn’t just dismiss that.

“Since you seem content with that, perhaps this is a waste of time.” Ventress mused.

“I bet you don’t understand any of this either. (Y/N) even struggles to explain it sometimes.” Omega argued. “So, why should I listen to you?”

Ventress simply glided to the edge of the boat enacted the instructions she had told Omega before. She listened to the wind around her, the sounds of the waves lapping against the boat and felt beneath the water for the thriving life that lived there.

Omega watched in awe as schools of luminous green fish appeared from the deep. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you both may not be able to always coherently explain how it worked but what you did say clearly meant something.

“I’m not the one holding back.” Ventress said, exhaling deeply and letting go of the connection.

But then something shifted, there was a low bellowing sound coming from the deep and both of them watched in confusion as the fish hurriedly swam away.

“What happened? Why’d they go?” Omega asked.

Her question was soon answered as a giant sea creature crashed beneath the bottom of their boat, making is spin out of control.

“Did you summon that?” Omega asked as she stared at the creature as it broke to the surface with a piercing screech, yellow algae dripping from its mouth.

“Not intentionally.” Ventress programmed the boat to head back to the docks.

You pushed off the column as you felt a creeping disturbance settling in your veins and Crosshair’s words confirmed it.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” He stated as he saw the action through his scope.

“Get to the Marauder.” Hunter ordered.

The boat didn’t make it very far. The vessel was completely capsized by the creature, and they went flailing into the water.

They treaded water for a moment before Omega felt a tentacle wrap around her leg and pull her under.

Ventress dived after her and dodged the other tentacles as she ignited her lightsaber and cut through the one that was pulling Omega further down. She grabbed her and made a break for the surface.

Omega gasped for oxygen as she reached the open air and the two of them quickly swam to their upturned boat and stood on top of it. They watched as the Marauder came flying into view and fired down on the creature but, judging by the enraged screeches and flailing of tentacles, that seemed to only anger it further.

“Your friends are making things worse. I can do this on my own!” Ventress yelled above the chaos. She let the tentacle that came for her wrap around her body and bring her closer to its mouth. She didn’t focus on the danger of the situation, she only focused on bridging the connection between the animal and her.

Omega brought out her comm, “Hunter, stop firing. Ventress can handle it.”

“Doesn’t look like it from up here.”

“You’d trust (Y/N) in this situation, you should trust her too!”

Hunter glanced beside him to where you were sitting in the co-pilot’s chair expecting to see disagreement but instead- despite the reluctance on your face- you nodded your head.

Omega looked on in admiration as she saw the creature quiet down and let out an affection rumble as Ventress pressed her hand against its face.

“You actually did it.” She breathed as the animal set Ventress back down and retreated back to the depths. She’d never seen that gift be used to actually calm a threat before, she’d only ever see you do it on non-threatening animals and it gave her a true indication as to what you could be capable of too.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Ventress quipped.

The Marauder came back around, and Crosshair descended the steps. He reached a handout to Omega to help her up before he offered the same courtesy to Ventress.

The group of you were back at the cavern as you anxiously awaited the results from Ventress.

“Did you figure it out? Do I have a high M-count?” Omega inquired as Ventress exited her ship and came towards you all.

“From what I’ve seen? No.”

You held back the massive sigh of relief that threatened to leave your lungs but despite apparent good news, something about it still didn’t sit right.

Omega hung her head in disappointment. She was still without the answers she so desperately wanted. “Then why’s the Empire after me?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t know everything. But seeing as how a high M-count would make you a target…” Her eyes shot over to you. “…Consider yourself lucky.” She looked back down at Omega.

“But I’m already a target.”

Wrecker walked up and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Uh, don’t worry about it, kid. We’re gonna figure it out. Come on. Let’s go get some chow.”

Omega sighed, “Thanks. For trying.”

Ventress gave her a small nod in acknowledgement before the kid walked away and she turned her attention back to the three of you that stayed behind.

“You’re lying.” Crosshair stated suspiciously.

“About which part?” Ventress replied coyly.

Hunter narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, “You tell us.”

“If Omega did have that potential, she’d have to be trained, which would mean leaving you behind.”

“That’s not happening.” Hunter said immediately.

“And it wouldn’t need to.” You added firmly.

“I don’t think you realise just how unique you really are.” Ventress said to you. “But even with your affinity for handling attachment, you let it get the best of you when it came to the child. You let your urge to protect her cloud your better judgement and that undoubtedly would be a problem in training her. So, what you want is irrelevant. The fact is, the Empire is after her and they’re after you…” She then looked between you all, “And they won’t stop.”

“And are you going to help them?” You challenged.

“Don’t insult me, I have no interest in the Empire’s agenda towards our kind. Plus, I don’t fancy getting into another brawl with you all even if I wanted to turn you in.” Ventress added as she saw the way the two clones tensed up and your hand drifted back to your lightsaber. She addressed you all as a group again, “So, if I were you, I’d leave this place. You’re not as safe as you think you are.” Ventress turned her back on the three of you but before she left, she said over her shoulder, “Our business is done.” She carried on walking away.

“I still can’t figure out what side you’re on.” Crosshair said.

“My own.” She responded calmly without stopping.

“You’re not worried about the Empire coming after you?” Hunter called to her back.

That made Ventress wait. “They can try. But I’ve got a few lives left.” She said cryptically.

You all made your way back to the Marauder as her ship took off.

Crosshair and Hunter paused as they saw you halt by the steps.

You nodded to them to go head in. Omega, can we talk?

Omega gave a small wave of farewell to Wrecker and the others when they entered as she left to join you outside the Marauder. She saw you open your mouth to speak but she jumped in ahead of you, “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. I just…” She trailed off as she saw you shaking your head.

You crouched down and rested your hands on her shoulders, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Omega. Absolutely nothing. I’m the one that needs to apologise to you.” You took a breath, “I’m sorry I never told you about the tests.”

Omega tilted her head at you, but she saw genuine remorse in your eyes. “Why didn’t you? Why did I have to hear about them from Ventress?” She asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

You inhaled deeply and Ventress’ words lingered in your head, “I love you, kid, I just want you to be safe. I think in my urge to do so, I neglected to do the things that could truly ensure that. I got too concerned with what risks of the results of those tests could mean that I felt it was better to not even entertain the possibility.”

“I mean, you were right. I’m not Force-sensitive and we still have no idea what an M-count means for me.” Omega said gloomily.

“I may have been right…” You said gently, “…but I should’ve been more thorough and told you about the tests and carried them out. I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark and for that I am so sorry. I got what protecting you meant all twisted in my head.”

Omega looked down and scuffed the ground with the toe of her boot, “So… it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to be like you?” She whispered.

Your heart went out to her immediately and you hated that you had ever given that impression. “Oh, honey, no.” You brushed through the loose strands of hair that came to rest just past her forehead. “My only concern with it was that it would put you in more danger than you’re already in. It’s not easy being a Jedi in the best of circumstances, let alone how things are now.” You affectionately brought her chin up so she would meet your gaze as you said warmly, “But if you had been, I would’ve loved to share that experience with you.”

Omega’s expression softened as she heard the sincerity in your words. “I’m not that lost kid you found on Kamino; you don’t have to make choices for me. I can handle more now.”

Ventress may have been right about you in this situation, but it wasn’t one you were ever wanting to repeat. You could change. You would change. “I won’t make decisions like that for you anymore and I won’t hide things from you, you have my word.” You promised.

Omega exhaled a breath of relief, “I don’t like falling out with you.” She said quietly, a forgiving smile on her face.

You chuckled lightly. “I don’t like it either.” You brought her in for a hug. Let’s not do it again, okay?

Omega hugged you back tightly in answer.

All was quiet in the Marauder, save for the familiar snores coming from Wrecker’s bunk and the occasional whine from Batcher as she dreamt but nothing felt amiss.

You and Hunter were yet to fall asleep. The night was when the two of you had an opportunity to switch off for a moment and be in each other’s company without having to worry about the others seeing and commenting. It was a time where the two of you didn’t need to be Sergeant and Jedi or think about the Empire but where it could just be you and Hunter.

You were laying on top of his arm as he hugged you into his side. One of your legs was hoisted over his lap as you nuzzled into him and touched the necklace on his chest that sat proudly on display over his sleep clothes. The two of you were sharing in light, delicate kisses between breaths as you lay together.

“Did I mention how impressive you looked going up against Ventress today?” Hunter said quietly against your lips into the silence of the ship.

Do I not look like that anyway? You teased as you left featherlight kisses along the column of his neck.

“Yes, smartass.” Hunter breathed as he focused on the sensation of your lips on his skin.

Well, no you didn’t, but I’d rather you never gave me a reason to have to do that in the first place. You glanced up at him with a playful scolding expression.

“Hmm, well if you look as strong and capable as you did today, I might just have to risk it.” Hunter kidded as he kissed the crown of your head whilst his free hand ran up and down your thigh.

You narrowed your eyes at him but there was an amused smile on your face. You traced your lips along his jaw. Oh really?

He hummed in an affirmative answer before he brought his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss like the ones before- one that did not have to lead to anything more. But as he felt your twist your hands in his shirt and heard your breath hitch, he cradled the side of your jaw to encourage you to open up to him more.

You sighed happily into the kiss and pressed yourself tighter to him and went to fully straddle his lap, but he beat you to it.

Hunter, without breaking away, rolled you so that you were on your back, and he was on top of you. He kissed you with the passion and love he could only express when the rest of his family were not around before he pulled away from your lips and began pressing doting kisses along your neck.

You felt his teeth graze your pulse point. Don’t get too carried away. You said, weaving your hands in his hair as you held back a groan and resisted the urge to roll your hips against his. The words were also a reminder for you- you both needed to remember where you currently were.

Hunter huffed out a disgruntled moan against your neck, but he stopped. However, he didn’t lie down next you again, he opted to rest his head on your chest instead.

His weight on you always acted as a secure and reassuring presence, so you always welcomed the position. It was also him offering you a degree of vulnerability and trust that he so rarely allowed himself to enjoy so it always made your heart swell when he showed this side of himself to you.

Hunter listened to the steady beat of your heart, each thump reminding him of what he was fighting for, of what he had to protect. “We need to keep you and Omega safe… and I think- I think Ventress is right. We can’t stay here.” He whispered.

“We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” You murmured as you tenderly ran your fingers through his hair and across his scalp. You felt him release a relaxed sigh at your actions. “Right now, we need to get some sleep.”

“I love you.” He mumbled sleepily as he got lost in your touch and let the tiredness overwhelm him.

“I love you too.” You replied as you closed your eyes.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @dominoeffectsworld, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @superbookishhufflepuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @nightmonkeysstuff

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 2 years ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy || I.N. x Reader

Summary: Watching the guy you have a huge crush on be a pretend couple with one of the prettiest girls you know for a photoshoot isn't the perfect way of spending your morning, that's for sure.

Who knows though, things might start looking up sooner than you'd expect.

Word count: 3.9k

Genres: college AU, fluff with a little angst, idiots to lovers (but only one of them is an idiot and it's not IN)

Warnings & Tags: reader has anxiety, reader is insecure, someone is verbally unpleasant towards the reader, kissing, Tzuyu from Twice is in this

series masterlist

A/N: So this is part one of my lil project for Stray Kids' anniversary! I've got three one-shots written so far, so I'm confident I'll be able to post the maknae line in the next few days, and then take a couple of days to finish the hyung line or post them as I write them, I'll see. I hope you'll like it!

For this one-shot, please do suspend your disbelief for the way the school work is described in this lol, think of it as an artistic rendition or as something out of one of those shojos that go wayyyy overboard.

The shoot is supposed to start at 10, which means you’re there at 8, and the second you walk through the door you’re already plagued with thoughts that you should have shown up half an hour ago. Even as you’re the only one from your team there, you feel the familiar lump forming in your throat. Your mind goes over everything that needs to be done, everything that can go wrong, everything that is likely to go wrong, and everything you’ll end up taking the blame for.

You force yourself to take a deep breath. You focus on the end of the shoot — supposed to be at noon, but likely to actually be at 2, and it should be around 3 by the time you finish cleaning up —, on how you’ll be able to get back to the quiet of your home afterwards, and on how the atmosphere here isn’t too bad, this early in the morning. You’re not the only one here, you’ve already met the tired eyes of a few of the other students who you suspect didn’t go home last night, but there is something light in the air. You saw the sun rising on the way over and the light is still gently pouring in through the windows.

What a shame this won’t last.

When the others start rolling in, you’ve set up your little corner, just the way you like it. Your lights, your mirrors, your brushes and products, right where they should be so that they’ll fall right under your fingers when you need them. It helps you breathe a little better, but the lump doesn’t go away. It’s alright; you’re used to it by now.

Nari’s the first one to walk in, which isn’t surprising considering she’s the one directing the shoot, and it’s her clothes that the ‘models’ are going to be wearing. That is to say, the students she’s recruited to model for her, just like she recruited you into doing the make-up for her. The two of you aren’t close, not even friends, but you’re good at your job and a bit of a pushover, which makes you the ideal target for that kind of things.

She waves at you with a tense smile, but you know it’s not meant for you, she’s just stressed out. She always is. Unlike you, though, she has a tendency of taking it out on others, and that explains at least half of the tension in your shoulders today.

You need to learn how to say no to people.

Tzuyu, from the dance program, enters next, looking unreal as always. You’ve worked with her a few times before, too. She’s a sweetheart and you know she’ll make your job easier.

The same can’t be said about the next person to make his way through the door, whose apparition you’ve been waiting for since you got here, embarrassingly glancing at the door every few minutes.

Yang Jeongin walks in like he owns the place.

To be fair, he kind of does. Also enrolled in the fashion course, he’s pretty much the go-to when it comes to getting male models. Hwang Hyunjin, from the dance programme, is the second one, mostly because he’s harder to get a hold of — and because, you’ve heard, his girlfriend is pretty scary.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks over to your spot. His coat is thrown casually over his shoulder, his walk confident, and stylish glasses that you know he doesn't need rest on the tip of his nose. He died his hair back to black recently, but you can see it’s still damaged from the light pink that was his previous color.

“We meet again,” Tzuyu chimes from her seat, grinning from ear to ear, and Jeongin smiles in response, his expression changing entirely the second he does.

“It’s great to see you, Jeongin,” Nari purrs as she approaches, before she sets her eyes on you. “Are you done with Tzuyu? We really need to get started here.”

You know you shouldn’t let her speak to you like that, you have no reason to, but all you can think about in the moment is to pacify her to ensure that she’ll leave you alone.

“I still need a few minutes with her,” you say, and Nari huffs in annoyance, before her attention is captured by a guy setting up the lights and she power walks over to him.

“Do you want me to tell her something?”

You shoot a surprised look at Jeongin, who’s staring at you with a frown on your face, and you immediately look away. You hope it looks like you’re just focusing back on Tzuyu, and not like your heart jumped up to your throat when you met his eyes.

“It’s fine,” you say, “I know how she gets on shoots. “Just sit down and I’ll be with you in a second.”

He nods slowly, eyes still on you as you busy yourself around Tzuyu, but the tension remains in his jaw, which you don’t miss. It gives you a pang in the chest — shit, you don’t like when people are displeased with you.

It also makes his jaw look really good.

Tzuyu leaves to go appease Nari as soon as you’re done with her, and you’re relieved when she’s dragged away to go put on her clothes.

That doesn’t last, though, because next thing you know you’re a few inches away from Jeongin’s perfect face, and he’s staring straight at you.

You swallow. Then you grab one of your brushes, and you get to work.

“No late night snacks this time?” you ask, half-teasing because the last time you’d worked with him, his face had been somewhat puffy from it.

A smile breaks on his face, and immediately there are flowers blooming in your chest. He can look so serious and unapproachable one second, but as soon as his lips curl and his eyes crease, he’s a whole other person.

“I didn’t want to make your work harder,” he replies. You feel yourself freezing, and then you turn away to grab another product, praying that you didn’t just stare dumbly at him for too long.

“You got started on your take on the modernized hanbok already?”

He hums in reply.

“I have one sketch. You?”

“I’m counting on the rush of adrenaline I’ll get the week before to finish it,” you admit.

You’re too focused to see the curiosity in his eyes when you say that. You do, however, notice him tilting his head, and you immediately correct him, fingers sliding along his jaw to pull him back in his correct place. As you do, you feel him swallowing, and you’re quick to remove your hand.

If you’d been looking, you’d have noticed his ears turning red.

“You were the first one here, though,” he says after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, yeah, that’s because I don’t want to let people down. I’m the only one who’ll get in trouble if I procrastinate too long.”

And even then, you won’t, you’ll just spend a horrible week telling yourself you’ll never do that again.

You inevitably will.

God, you’re so tired of living with yourself, sometimes.

“You should tell me if you need a last second model,” Jeongin mumbles. He’s careful not to move his lips, but you’ve perfected the art to understand that language over the years. The comment makes you laugh.

“You're always completely booked for shoots on the last week,” you grin. You yourself still give a few hours of your time here and there, though you don’t stick around very long. You know that Nari plans her shoots ahead partly for that reason. It’s kind of flattering, if you think about it.

Someone with her drive and her talent gets to have a shitty personality, you suppose.

“I’ll get Hyunjin to replace me.”

There goes your heart again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only time you spend with him goes like that, because you’re too cowardly to approach him during class, and it’s not fair that invariably—

“Are you done soon?” Nari shouts from behind the screen she’s put up to make a corner into a changing room.

“Just a few minutes more!” you reply before focusing back on Jeongin. “I’ll think about it,” you tell him, though you know yourself well enough to be able to tell that you’re extremely unlikely to go through with it. Just the drafting of the text would take you hours, and actually sending it? The idea is laughable.

You really wish you were normal with that stuff.

“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” you say, and he goes still, and your heart’s hammering in your chest, but at least he’s no longer saying things you’re at risk of misconstruing.

As he closes his eyes to let you put on the finishing touches, though, you know you’re in for a long day.

“Jeongin, can you put your hand a little lower? Tzuyu, smile with your eyes please? Now tilt your head more to the right? More? Jeongin, look at the camera but like, from the side, from— Okay, two seconds for touch ups, and then we’ll need to get things done a little faster everyone, alright?”

Nari’s forcing herself to smile so much that you think she might cramp. You rush past her to get to Tzuyu and Jeongin, carefully touching up their make up where you need and adjusting a little for the light. You also pat Jeongin’s forehead to catch beads of sweat that formed under the artificial light, and he gives you a grateful nod as you do your best not to think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.

“We’ll be done soon,” Tzuyu says cheerfully, but even she seems to be forcing her smile at this point. You don’t blame her for it. You do, however, think she’s not being very realistic about how much work they have left.

It’s 11.30 and they’re nowhere near done. The start of the shoot ran late because of Nari’s adjustments to the clothing. After that, there was a heated conversation between her and the photograph over the subject of filters, leading to the guy throwing his hands in the air and quitting on the spot, meaning she’s the only one there. You can tell she’s fuming, and though you have sympathy for that, you’re also pretty terrified of becoming the subject of her ire.

“You’re not messing him up, right?” she asks, glaring at you, and you jump away from Jeongin.

“Sorry,” you say automatically, even though you haven’t done anything wrong. “I’m all done.”

She looks at him critically, trying to find flaws in your work.

“He has a spot on the chin,” she says finally, “seriously, if you don’t get your shit together we’ll never—”

“You don’t speak to her like that,” Jeongin interrupts her, and his voice sounds sharp and cutting.

The air freezes in the room. You risk a glance in his direction. He’s staring straight at Nari, lips curved ever so slightly downwards in distaste.

He also does have a little spot on the chin.

Shit.

Nari’s staring at him, too. She’s paled, and her lower lip is shaking.

“Sorry,” she finally says, voice trembling. “Sorry, I’m j-just— We don’t have that long and— Sorry.”

She looks small and vulnerable, and your heart melts on the spot. You can’t help it.

“It’s okay,” you say, “just give me a second to fix it.”

Jeongin exhales slowly next to you, but you suspect it’s in annoyance, not in relief. Still, he leans towards you to give you better access to his face.

“You don’t have to placate her,” he mumbles, lips barely moving.

“I know,” you reply. “It’s just easier that way.”

He frowns, but doesn’t add anything. For a second, you almost tell him that you wish you could stand up for yourself, that the truth is your ‘freeze’ response strikes you every single time and you can’t figure out what to say, that if you could, you’d—

“All good?” Nari asks.

You give her a nod and, this time, she doesn’t say anything about Jeongin — or about Tzuyu, for that matter. So you walk back to your spot, and you watch as the shoot continues.

You don’t really like watching these. That’s generally true. You have friends who do, who think that ‘this is where the magic happens’, but you know all the magician’s tricks, and that leaves no actual magic for you. Still, you’re needed here. You suppose you could have quit on the spot after Nari’s outburst, but it’s— you can’t actually do that. So you’ll stick it out until the end, even if you’re not enjoying yourself.

And that is particularly true as Nari directs Jeongin to pull Tzuyu closer to him. As he does, neither of them questioning it because they’re used to it by now, you find yourself sucking in a discreet breath between your teeth. Jeongin’s hand seems large over Tzuyu’s shoulder, long, pale fingers gently brushing against the skin and for a second, you think about the electric feeling that would run through you if he ever—

Just thinking about it makes heat shoot through your entire body, and you swallow. At least no one’s looking at you.

Another direction from Nari, and Tzuyu puts her hand over Jeongin’s chest, shooting a bold grin at the camera.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

Direction. They step away from each other, but Jeongin reaches out for her, and she delicately places her fingers into his open end, both of them longingly staring at their hands.

Your fingers dig into your arms.

Direction. Keeping Tzuyu’s hand in his, Jeongin brings it to his lips and they gaze into each other’s eyes. They look perfect together. They’re both stunning, and you know there’ve been whispers about them on campus already, in no small part because they’re often reunited for these shoots.

But God does it burn in your chest to look at them right now.

“We’re done!” Nari shouts at 1.50 pm. Behind her, the group that’s supposed to get the room at 2 is huffing and puffing, but you don’t think a fucking panzer could have gotten her to clear the space until she was happy with her work.

You should be relieved. You’re not. You won’t be until you’ve locked the door to your room behind you.

“Wanna get a drink to celebrate?” Tzuyu asks Jeongin. Her smile’s back to its usual brightness, now that the tension’s mostly gone.

You start picking up your stuff, but, embarrassingly, you’re very much focused on hearing his answer to that. You wish you wouldn’t be doing that, because that’s not any of your business, yet you can’t seem to help yourself right now.

You probably would have caught it if Nari didn’t stop by your side just then.

“Hey,” she says, “I am really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said that.”

The thing is, you’re pretty sure she meant it then, but now there’s a lightness to her voice that you find… annoying. It seems to you that she’s already moved on and expects you to do the same. Normally you would, but after having spent the last two hours watching the guy you have this stupid, hopeless crush on all over one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, something in you just— snaps.

“I think you’ll have to find someone else next time,” you tell her with a polite smile. Her face falls, and you immediately feel guilty. You shouldn’t. Probably. Should you? Are you being mean? Are you doing something wrong? Does that make you a bad person?

“I— Okay,” she says, and this time her voice’s much softer. She looks down at her feet. “I get it. I know I’m not easy to— Yeah. I’m sorry.”

You thought standing up to her would feel good, that you’d feel Schadenfreude over this moment. This is the furthest thing from that. Actually, you only manage to bite back your own ‘I’m sorry’ at the last second.

“I just— this environment stresses me out,” you still say, speaking too fast. “It’s not really good or fun for me and—”

“Sure. Don’t worry about it.” A deep breath, and then Nari nods at you politely. “Well, I’ll get to cleaning up my stuff.”

And just as you’re replying “Same,” she’s spun around on her heels and started putting the clothes away.

You don’t know where that leaves the two of you, but that reaction makes the moment just a little easier on you.

You wonder, vaguely, if she did that on purpose. You don't linger on the thought though, and you go back to your own program, walking towards your little make-up station to start putting stuff away, getting everything back to its place in your bags. It’s something you slow at, just like you’re slow at setting them up, but it also helps you getting back to your normal self. With every object coming back to where they belong, you can breathe a little easier.

You still notice almost immediately the presence behind you, and you’re not particularly surprised to find Jeongin there. You give him a smile, and gesture at the chair.

“If you give me a second, I can get some of that off your face,” you say as you gesture to him. Camera make-up would look quite strange outside, and he’s been to enough of these things to know that at least as well as you do.

“I heard you told Nari off.”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess you, uh, were right.”

That’s not all that happened there, but that will have to do.

When you glance at him, though, he doesn’t look happy about it, a frown barring his expression, and your fragile confidence immediately falters.

“Do you think that was a bad idea…?”

His eyes widen and he's quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all, you did good!” You can’t help but smile at the words. He’s younger than you, but somehow keeps behaving like he’s not. “I just like working with you.” He gives you a sheepish smile, lips pressed together.

“Sit down,” you say like your heart didn't skip a beat, “the least I can do is not let you go out like that.”

So he does, and even though you still have stuff out that you should be taking care of, you lean close to him and get to work once more.

There’ll be other shoots, of course, Nari isn’t the only one who requires your services. In fact, you’re surprised that he’d have thought of that at all. You know that it didn’t cross your mind, probably because you think these moments mostly as fueling your delusions.

The idea that Jeongin could actually enjoy spending time with you hadn’t even occurred to you.

Huh. That might say a thing or two about your self-confidence.

“So, you’re going out with Tzuyu after this?” you ask before your thoughts start running wild.

His eyes open.

“We’re going to get drinks, yeah,” he says, a cautious edge to his voice. “You should come with us, actually.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “I don’t know if she’d be very happy if I did that. Wouldn’t want to third wheel, you know.”

You hope you do a good job of keeping any bitterness out of your voice. You certainly try your best to appear nonchalant, like you’re merely doing small talk while you’re removing his make-up, even if you avoid meeting his eyes, knowing that it would

That might be why it takes you by surprise when Jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist, interrupting you. When you look at him, you find him staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression.

“You wouldn’t third wheel,” he says, which you certainly don’t think warrants all of that.

“It’s fine,” you reply, attempting to joke about it even as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, because you will not be caught dead misreading the situation for something it’s not, “if anything getting a date with Tzuyu is—”

Then, several things happen at once. The hand around your wrist pulls you forward and you stumble, just as his other hand shoots up to cup your face.

And then he’s kissing you.

His mouth is warm, his lips soft, his fingers carding through your hair, and suddenly you’ve lost your balance and you’re half sitting in his lap and any attempt at forming a coherent thought is swallowed by what is happening.

A very, very distant part of your brain is thankful for Nari’s screen, which has been moved to the make-up station to make place for the group that comes after you, but that is only a fleeting thought, because still, Jeongin’s kissing you. His hands are gentle, holding you like you’re a porcelain doll, but his lips are fierce, and you feel, briefly, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His right hand travels from your wrist to your waist, and you’re pulled even closer to him, and now you’re pressed against his chest and all you can think about is how you want more of this.

When he moves away from you, you’re panting, breath short, and you can only stare at him with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the one third-wheeling,” he says.

“What,” you say in response, ever the eloquent one.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair while the other one remains on your hips, not quite squeezing, but not letting go of you either.

“I— thought I’d made it pretty obvious I was interested in you,” he mumbles.

Oh. Uh, yeah, about that…

“I, uh, I assumed it was just wishful thinking,” you admit under your breath. “I mean, we don’t really, uh, talk outside of these shoots.”

He sighs and puts his forehead against yours. Your noses brush, and you’re acutely aware of the fact that you would just have to move a little to kiss him again.

“I— always looked forward to seeing you,” he admits quietly, almost shyly, something you’d never thought you would see, “but you always looked like you wanted to run away when I came up to you in class, so I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable, just— just shy, I think.”

It makes him grin, and you realize that seeing that specific look on his face makes you want to kiss him even more. If you were bolder, you would, especially right now, but you don’t think you can dare to just yet.

It’s fine, though, because he’s the one who kisses you, briefly, tenderly, and then he looks at you like you’re one of the world’s seven wonders.

“Want to go make Tzuyu feel like a third wheel?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.

You laugh, and you can’t know it, but his chest swells with pride when you do.

“And then I can take you on a proper date,” he offers. “If you’d like.”

‘If you’d like,’ he says, and you suspect that he knows exactly how much you’d like that, but you humor him because how could you not.

“I’d love that.”

this was my first time writing for IN and this made me realize that he's probably the member whose personality I'm least sure how to write, so I hope you enjoyed it still and I'll see you tomorrow for Seungmin's part! Any feedback, comment, reblogs or asks are extremely welcome, I may not be able to get to it right away because I'm working on the rest but I they're much appreciated ❤️

#stray kids #i.n.#yang jeongin #in x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #jeongin fanfic #candywrites

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kaitlindogood · 1 year ago

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I Belong With You, You Belong With Me (You’re My Sweetheart) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: feli being an anxious mess lol

word count: 2578

summary: your long time girlfriend wants to propose to you but she has no idea how to, it’s a good thing that you belong with her and she belongs with you

a/n: requested, idk how i feel about how this turned out

‘Hello.’ Feli giggles when you wrap your arms around her waist.

You’ve been waiting outside the locker room for her because your girlfriend’s training session with her fellow defenders had run late but you don’t mind doing so.

‘I missed you.’ You mumble, burying your face into her chest.

You feel and hear her laugh.

‘Missed you too liebling. Even though we’ve only been apart for a half hour.’

‘Don’t care.’ You grumble and Feli giggles again.

As you squeeze her waist a little tighter in answer, your girlfriend thinks that while the both of you could be apart just fine, she doesn’t ever want to spend a day without you.

You echo her thoughts, understanding her perfectly as usual.

‘We’d be okay with being separated but why would I want to do that when we’re so much better together?’

******

That very reason is why Felicitas is nervously fidgeting as she stands in front of her older teammate.

She trusts Poppi, having grown close to her over the many years she’s known the older woman.

Your girlfriend would usually go to Svenja for advice but something about how personal this is to her makes her seek out Poppi because she’s closer to her.

Alex is staring at her weirdly, wondering what on earth is going on with her fellow Wolfsburg player when Feli eventually just bursts out, ‘How do I ask her to marry me?’

‘Felicitas!’ Poppi says in surprise, patting her friend on the shoulder in congratulations.

‘Stop. Stop.’ Feli agitatedly mumbles.

‘Why? This is a big step for you.’ The blonde asks, her confusion evident.

‘Exactly…I don’t know if she’ll say yes and I don’t know how to ask her.’

‘Of course she will Feli. She loves you so incredibly much and I know you love her too. The both of you have such a strong relationship and I’m really sure she wants to be your wife Felicitas. To answer the second question, you know her best and just go with what you feel is right.’

Felicitas lets out a wobbly breath but this time, does not reject Alex when she pats her shoulder.

‘I just need a plan for my proposal. I already have a ring…’

******

Your girlfriend has had a ring for almost a year now, having bought it on impulse after seeing it in a shop window.

Feli does not do things on impulse, it’s in her nature to always prefer to be cautious and careful instead. Yet when she saw the ring, she could not stop herself from buying it.

The German player can’t describe the feeling that came over her. She just knew that she wanted to ask you to marry her with that ring. The simple piece of jewelry just seemed so you.

It may only be a piece of metal but as Felicitas buries it deeply into the bottom of her sock drawer, she thinks it represents all of her hopes and dreams for what she wants to come.

******

Your girlfriend might have gotten a ring on impulse but she plans her proposal thoroughly.

Alex is her sounding board but the older woman’s advice is right.

Felicitas knows you like the back of her own hand and she relies heavily on that knowledge as she works on her plan.

She’s just finished making hotel reservations for a little weekend getaway when you knock quietly on the wooden frame of the bedroom door.

‘Feli?’ You ask, a bit of uncertainty creeping into your voice.

The brunette has been distant as of late and you do not know what you’ve done wrong.

‘You don’t have to knock to come into our bedroom liebling.’

Your girlfriend’s voice is light and teasing, easing your anxiety immediately.

She would tell you if she is angry at you right?

‘I miss you.’ You whisper as you curl up next to her.

Your fingers grip onto the loose material of her shirt, your body unconsciously betraying just how afraid you are of losing her.

You could be okay without her but you never want to be without Felicitas.

‘I’m right here. I’ve not gone anywhere.’ She murmurs, gently running her fingers through your hair.

‘Okay.’ You softly answer but you don’t loosen your hold on her until long after you’ve fallen asleep.

In doing so, you miss the way Felicitas gently kisses your cheek as she murmurs quiet sweet nothings.

******

When you wake up, you bury your nose into Feli’s hair.

‘Good morning liebling.’ She laughs and you smile.

‘Good morning.’

‘I love you, you know that right?’

‘I know.’ You whisper and your girlfriend holds you close, pressing kisses onto your face.

‘I love you lots.’ She mumbles, in between kisses.

******

You know she loves you and yet as you watch her use her phone even as you’re sitting opposite the table for her, you can’t help but feel a bit alone.

Picking at your food, you decide to sneak a bit of her food off her plate.

Felicitas doesn’t even notice.

******

It’s worrying you, how your girlfriend seems to be with you and yet not with you. Her mind is clearly elsewhere and has been for a week now.

It is getting to the point where you’re almost scared to ask her about plans for the upcoming break you have, only a short weekend off but one that you do not want to let waste.

So you tentatively approach Feli who is making a coffee at the kitchen counter and wrap your arms around her waist.

The Wolfsburg player affectionately covers one of your hands with her free hand.

‘Do you want one?’ She asks, already reaching for another cup.

‘No. It’s okay Felicitas.’

‘Felicitas? What’s wrong?’

Her tone changes from lightheartedness to concern immediately. Your girlfriend abandons her coffee making, turning around to face you.

You never call her Felicitas and she picks up on the change right away.

‘Talk to me liebling.’ She gently prompts, taking your hands in hers.

She runs her thumb soothingly over it and you let out a shaky exhale.

‘Y-You’ve been distant and I can’t help but feel like you’re pulling away.’ You confess.

Your girlfriend swears under her breath, dropping your hands to cradle your face instead.

‘I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. Just trust me alright? I only need a few more days.’

‘Okay….but a few more days for what Feli?’

She sighs softly and kisses you on your temple.

‘Will you let me surprise you liebling? I really think that you’ll like what I have planned for our weekend off.’ She pleadingly asks, unintentionally answering your initial question.

Standing on your tiptoes, you lean in to kiss her and in the way that you do, Feli knows your answer.

******

Your girlfriend makes an effort to spend time with you now, to show you that she is there despite being busy.

It’s her simple but intentional gestures, of putting her hand on your thigh and drawing random shapes there while still looking on her phone. Of her looking up every now and then to check that you’re doing okay.

It shows you that she cares deeply and you love her all the more for it.

You still have no idea what she is up to but you trust her and that is enough.

******

A few days later and your girlfriend seeks a kiss from you, smiling gently when you oblige.

It prompts you to put the book you were reading away so that she has your full attention.

Felicitas does not say anything right away, choosing to carefully place more kisses on your face.

‘Feli…’ You giggle and her smile widens.

She pulls you close until you’re as good as lying on top of her, in your shared bed before she is content.

You can hear her heartbeat in the quiet moment that follows. It’s the most soothing sound you know and you are happy to listen to it.

‘If I asked you to come with me, just the two of us escaping the city for the weekend….would you come?’ Your girlfriend softly asks.

Her heartbeat audibly speeds up as she awaits your answer, making you fight back a smile.

‘Of course Feli. I’ll go anywhere with you.’

‘Wow okay.’ She breathes and you chuckle.

‘Did you think I was going to give you any other answer, my love?’

‘I hoped not.’ She blushes and you mumble something about how she’s just too cute before kissing her.

******

‘Feli…I know where we’re going is a surprise but can I at least get an idea so that I know what to pack?’ You whine and your girlfriend giggles.

She goes over to your side of the bed and looks at the clothes you have laid out to be packed.

‘This is great liebling.’

You side eye her and she holds her hands up in surrender.

‘I promise that this is all that you will need.’

‘Okay…’ You agree and then mischievously look at Feli.

‘Would you like to share your opinion on which lingerie sets you would like me to pack?’

Feli lets out a loud laugh, a mixture of startled amusement and delight.

‘You know which one I want you to bring.’

‘Oh that one is already inside my bag. I’m asking you to choose from these.’

You indicate a pile of clothes that your girlfriend had somehow not noticed earlier and her eyes widen.

‘Oh no.’ She whispers and you can’t stop the fit of giggles that you helplessly dissolve into.

******

You know that your girlfriend has planned something bigger than a weekend getaway.

She’s all anxious and try as she might, she can’t hide it from you.

The German player is redoing her characteristic messy bun for the third time when you stop her, lightly tucking the loose strands back under the hair tie.

‘Feli? Relax…I love you and I will love whatever you have been working on.’

Felicitas exhales slowly, as if to calm herself down and then kisses your forehead sweetly.

‘Thank you liebling. That means a lot to me, you mean a lot to me.’

‘Then I guess it’s a good thing that you mean a lot to me too.’ You softly reassure her and your girlfriend melts.

‘Go to bed. I know you’re tired and we’re leaving early tomorrow.’

You begin to protest only for Feli to shush you with a kiss.

‘I’ll only be a moment I swear. I just want to double check that I’ve packed everything I need.’

You giggle, knowing all too well your girlfriend’s tendency to overthink.

‘Okay. But if you’re not done in five minutes, I’m coming back here to bring you to bed because I can’t sleep without my cuddle buddy.’

Feli laughs at the term you referred to her as and holds out her pinky teasingly.

‘You silly.’ You murmur, eyes sparkling with adoration as she pinky promises you.

******

As you sit on your bed, waiting for your girl who is still out in the living room, Cinnamon jumps up beside you.

‘Hey girl.’ You absentmindedly greet.

Your girlfriend’s poodle gives a muffled bark that has you frowning.

It sounded like she has something in her mouth?

‘Cinny?’ You question and the poodle answers by opening her mouth and dropping a slightly wet box into your lap.

You freeze and it seems like you’re not the only one because there is a gasp from the doorway.

Seeing your girlfriend is enough to snap you out of it.

‘Yes.’

‘Yes what?’

Felicitas’ confusion is evident and you simply shrug and smile at her.

‘Yes I’ll marry you. Because a ring is what is in this box right? That’s what you were planning so thoroughly for?’

Feli stays entirely still, unable to come up with anything to say.

You keep smiling at her, holding the ring box in your hand and eventually she manages to stammer out, ‘Y-You’ll marry me?’

‘Of course.’ You steadfastly say.

‘But you haven’t even seen the ring yet. Or heard the speech I had planned.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Well it does but at the end of the day, I belong with you and you belong with me. You’re my sweetheart and I love you so incredibly much. It will be the greatest honour of my life to be your wife Feli.’

Your girlfriend, hopefully your soon to be fiancée covers her mouth with her hand.

There’s tears spilling down her cheeks but she crosses the room and reaches out to take the ring box from you.

‘Will you let me ask the question at least? Even though I already know your answer?’

You give her a tiny nod and Feli sinks down on one knee, opening the ring box and softly asking, ‘Liebling I had a whole plan that included me taking you on a weekend trip to a surprise destination but Cinny has seen fit to change all that. I don’t know how she got the box because I swear I packed it into my bag but I do know that you are the love of my life, my everything and the only one for me. I want to be yours and I want to make you mine so will you marry me?’

‘Yes. I’m yours already Feli and I will say yes to anything if it means that I get to spend the rest of my life with you.’

Felicitas shakily slides the ring onto your hand and you pull her close, kissing her and trying to pour every ounce of your emotions into the action.

Your former girlfriend, now fiancée responds just as intently, completely taking your breath away.

‘I love you so incredibly much and I cannot wait to be your wife.’ She mumbles when she finally breaks the kiss.

‘I can’t wait to be yours.’ You promise.

Your eyes are wet with tears but you still manage to admire the ring on your hand. It’s perfect and you tell Feli so.

She sniffles and tells you the story of how she got the ring in the first place.

‘Oh Feli.’ You whisper and gently cup her face in your hands as you press a loving kiss onto her lips.

Your fiancée shivers, the only thought on her mind being you and how her dream has come true. She’s going to get to marry her favourite person in the whole world.

The feeling is mutual and you can’t get enough of your girl.

Eagerly, you pull her into your arms and try to convey your affection by placing kisses everywhere you can.

Felicitas giggles under the onslaught, feeling like her heart might just burst with how much love she has for you.

Cinnamon seems to hate being left out because she barks repeatedly.

‘Okay okay.’ You laugh and pick her up so that she can join in the embrace.

Your fiancée chuckles, taking her brown poodle from you and kissing the top of her fluffy head.

‘Thank you for being my wing woman. Even though you kind of spoilt my proposal.’ She affectionately complains.

Cinny gives another loud bark in response and you grin, kissing Feli and then pressing a kiss onto Cinny’s fluffy brown fur.

This moment fills you with more happiness than you ever thought possible. If this is the start of a new chapter with your fiancée, you can’t wait to see what life brings next.

She’s your sweetheart. You belong with her and she belongs with you.

German Translation:

liebling - love

#feli rauch x reader #feli rauch imagine #felicitas rauch x reader #felicitas rauch imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #vfl wolfsburg frauen x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen imagine #dfb frauen imagine #dfb frauen x reader #gerwnt imagine #gerwnt x reader #katelynnwrites #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #feli rauch #felicitas rauch

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youkaiyume · 1 year ago

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Hello, it's been a while since I did a rant. But WARNING for gross medical things:

SO it turns out my old nemesis the ovarian cysts have plagued me again. I found out about three weeks ago when a weird pain wouldn't leave my pelvis and went to urgent care and they suggested a CT scan. ONLY! for my insurance to deny me cuz they think I needed more probable cause for one so my doctor just recommended I go to the ER (which ironically is way more expensive for insurance to pay for than a simple CT scan but they did it to themselves lol).

Turns out I have cysts on BOTH of my ovaries FUN. But the left one is very concerningly big and probably needs to be removed but I can only do so by getting an approval of an OBGYN. So after finding one and waiting for my blood tests to come back so she can determine if she can surgically remove it--

YESTERDAY I had a SUDDEN AND SEVERE pain that hit me. I was at a solid 10 on that pain scale and vomiting and sweating so I drove myself to the ER again for the second time in two weeks. Frustratingly, the MALE doctor came back and was just like "well it looks like while we were doing your ultrasound you weren't consistently experiencing pain" which I was ready to bite his head off because let me tell you. While I was laying stretched out letting them do the ultrasound I was in the worst pain the ENTIRE time. And it was not a short ultrasound. It lasted over 20 mins and even after they asked me if I could survive sitting through the vaginal ultrasound after which would be another 25 mins. And those are painful just for the stick poking around in your yoohoo alone. I begged for pain relievers and when I described it they were like "oh that's labor level pains"

SO Mr. I don't have a Uterus doctor, DON'T TELL ME that your machine says I wasn't in pain. He even hit me with a "well I don't know what your pain tolerance is" as if to minimize or make me feel like I was overblowing what I was feeling. Like, fuck that guy. But because technically the imaging showed that the cysts haven't ruptured or caused my ovaries to twist it was considered "non emergent" and so the just gave me painkillers and then sent me home and reiterated that the only way I could get it removed at this point was to beg my OBGYN and convince her it was an emergency. In the meantime it was "oh you'll have to live with LABOR LIKE PAINS 24/7 until they let you have surgery." In the meantime they said I should only return to the ER after I've took all my pain meds and my pain doesn't improve OR if something worse happens. like a rupture.

WHICH btw are the exact same symptoms I have today so I was like how will I know cuz I can't imagine a worse pain than this one to which they were like "shrug"

I was in tears. Oh but it gets EVEN BETTER. Called my OBGYN this morning and she said my blood tests came back and that unfortunately they detected higher than usual levels of cancer markers in the cyst so that means she can't surgically remove them for me, she has to foist me to an Oncologist so THEY can remove it. She tries to say it doesn't necessarily MEAN cancer but hnnnnnggg that does not help with my anxiety at the moment.

Now calling the Oncologist to make an appointment today was a whole ordeal itself cuz their system kept going to voicemail so I had to call all the departments until they finally let me through but I had to run back to the hospital to try to get my Ultrasound discs for them. But even then they were like "your appointment isn't until next Wednesday" because THATS when the doctor meanders into work. So I'm like OH so like, in the meantime what if something happens??? And they're like well you gotta call back your OBGYN to see if you have other options. Which turns out she is also out. Until Tuesday. So I'm like. Guess I'll die then!

I don't even want kids!!! These ovaries have caused me nothing but trouble!!! Please rip them from my body!!

#And you know when you have nothing to do but curl up and google ovarian cancer #AND it tells you that the longest living patients on average live up to five years #it does make you spiral a bit #I feel like these entire two weeks the entire medical system won't believe me when I say it's an emergency #you sit here with this pain then #you do it #text post #rant #gross medical things

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yourantag · 2 years ago

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Zephyr (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: I typically don't write in the perspective of the reader since it makes it harder to see them as yourself, but I wanted to experiment a bit. I figured it'd be a fun little writing exercise and a way to explore parts of the story that went unseen in "Apricity." So, here is the result of a few hours and mind numbing amounts of self doubt. Also, heads up, reader is a lot more aggressive here than I intended them to be lol Word count: 2.9k words Summary: You love him, but you do so silently. You know he isn't ready yet, so you wait. You'll wait as long as he needs you too. However, even you have your limits.

Many question your relationship with Ithaqua. It's no surprise considering that most survivors and hunters don't get along. Ithaqua is a particularly prickly person at times, but he's kind. If you could describe him in one word, it would be a simple one.

"Zephyr."

Ithaqua has always been like the wind he wields: uncontrollable and unpredictable. A furious tempest in the blink of an eye, but soothed just as quickly with the lightest touch. Despite this, he, for you, has always tried to be good. He raises you from the ground when you feel down, gently pats you to cheer you up, and remains by your side when you need him most. Like a soft breeze at the first call of spring, he's there to remind you of the beautiful future to come.

It's hard not to love him when he's so kind. For all his faults, Ithaqua has never been as bad a person as he'd always feel he was. You know he'll never believe you if you told him so, but you know as well as you know the sky is blue that Ithaqua is good and that he’s your friend. For now, you’re content with that.

It's a bit nostalgic, though, to think of how everything started. You weren't always so close, after all.

The first time you actually spoke to him was in a match. You had been ready to leave through the exit gate when the tell tale sound of a gunshot rang throughout the map. It was particularly loud near you, leaving you a bit stunned. Martha ran past you while you stood in a daze. Cautiously, you glanced behind you, only to feel your heart stop.

You didn't know why you did it- your feet seemed to have moved on their own.

On the floor lay pieces of a familiar white mask, an unsalvageable mess. Not far off, curled up into a ball and covering his face, was Ithaqua. He was frantic, almost clawing at himself in desperation as he muttered things you couldn't understand. What you did know, however, was that his mask was shattered and he was panicking.

Hesitant, you gazed at him for a moment.

The Nightwatch was a hunter. He'd attempted to kill you and your friends this entire match, and in every match before. He was not someone who you were friends with, nor necessarily fond of, either.

However.

The hunters were victims in the manor too. Michiko was unjustly killed, then brought back to life, only to have to live for the sake of harming others. Some hunters enjoyed this lifestyle, but most didn't.

Ithaqua always killed with mercy, never bleeding anyone out and always giving the last survivor the dungeon. However ruthless he could be, Ithaqua still held kindness in the way he conducted himself.

Having made up your mind, you took off your sweater and walked up to Ithaqua. You bit your lip in worry as you looked at his claws. With the way things were looking, he was most certainly going to hurt himself.

Using the courage you'd scraped together, you draped your sweater over Ithaqua and quickly grasped his hands. You expected him to startle, to panic more and struggle against you. Instead, he stilled.

Your heart was beating out of your chest from both the artificially induced fear from the game and your own anxiety. Still, you tried to slow your breathing to let him follow the pattern and calm down. It seemed to work as in a few minutes, Ithaqua was more at ease.

He slowly moved his hands so they were intertwined with yours. You were surprised, but allowed it. Perhaps he needed to be grounded. You weren't going to complain when his hand felt perfect with yours.

It was silent, everyone else having escaped while you remained with Ithaqua. It was a bit awkward, really, but you weren't going to leave him alone. You had always been rather bad at leaving people be, especially when they were in need of assistance.

"Thank you."

It was uttered softly, so much so you almost missed it. You hummed in response as you gently moved away from him. His hands reached out, as though he wanted to keep your hands within his grasp, before hesitating.

You picked up as many pieces of his mask as you could, carefully collecting them. Once you'd gotten a fair amount, you placed the shards in his hands before standing up. As you moved to leave, you felt a tug on your sleeve, prompting you to turn around.

"Please stay." He whispers, and you find yourself unable to say no. His face is covered, but you can practically see the pleading look in his eyes. So, you stay, allowing him to hold your hand again.

The match lasted a long time, just the two of you existing in peace. It felt like an eternity and a moment, the world having stopped to allow Ithaqua solace.

By the end of it, Ithaqua tenderly held your hand and guided you back to the gate. He looked a bit ridiculous with your sweater covering his face, but you didn't say anything about that.

"What’s your name?"

"Ithaqua."

It was a simple exchange, but it had changed everything between you two.

Ithaqua started going friendly more often, yielding his duties to talk to you. You, in turn, sought him out more often outside of matches. The two of you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.

It started slowly, yet steadily. With time, your heart started to beat harder and harder every time you saw Ithaqua, but not due to fear. This time, it was due to another emotion, one you never imagined you'd feel in a place like this. You didn't mind, though.

You didn't mind relenting your heart, if it was to Ithaqua.

His soft laugh, his careful touch, and his everlasting presence were things you treasured dearly. Even during the worst of times, he was there for you. When you felt broken and desolate, he'd hold you. When you were angry and unable to express yourself, he'd wait for you to try and communicate your feelings. Regardless of the situation, Ithaqua always stood by you.

Certainly, he'd have his off days where he'd get mad, shout, or say things he didn't mean, regretting them immediately as soon as they were said. Ithaqua always apologized and held himself accountable for what he did. Never did he invalidate your feelings, always being mindful of how he said things. His face would twist into a wince whenever he phrased something horribly, stuttering over his words and clarifying himself.

You found it charming, really. The way he'd immediately relax near you, smile softer, try to be kinder. His face would grow bright every time he caught sight of you, his eyes shining with barely contained happiness. With time, you grew quite proficient at reading his expressions, even when he had his mask.

It was how you immediately realized something was wrong.

It was a chilly winter morning when it started. When you called out to Ithaqua, he tensed up before running away. You found it strange, but thought that he perhaps woke up on the wrong side of the bed and didn't want to take it out on you. Respecting him, you gave him distance, even though your gut screamed at you to chase him. You ignored your instincts and went on with your day.

You couldn't regret that decision more if you tried.

Since then, you hadn't seen Ithaqua. Not in matches, not around the manor, nowhere. It was as though he'd gone with the wind, disappearing to a place you could never reach.

As days turned to weeks, you found yourself falling apart at the seams. Your heart ached in your chest, bringing with it a pain words couldn't describe. It was like having your insides ripped out, leaving a searing, empty wound that only seemed to grow more irritated with each passing day. It reminded you of days where you smiled like no tomorrow, when you were an inseparable duo with him.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Desperate, you'd even gone so far as to venture to the hunter's side of the manor. You asked anyone and everyone if they'd seen Ithaqua or knew why he was doing this, but all they could tell you was that he was gone before they could even go near him. They warned you of his temper, of how he'd grown more violent.

"It'll be fine, dear, I'm sure he'll come around."

Mary looked at you with pity as you wiped away tears of frustration and despair. You knew she wasn't at fault, but you couldn't help but be a bit angry at her. Her pity was not what you needed. Comforting words would be fine, but empty lies were never things you liked. They just promised you things you knew wouldn't happen, made you hope when you knew there was nothing to hope for.

As rumors of Ithaqua's change in temperament grew, so too did your wrath. You were growing tired of this game. He would hide, you would chase, and not even once would you be able to catch sight of him.

You were no fool. You had pondered over what you could've done wrong, what you could've done to offend him, hurt him, scare him, everything. No matter how much you thought about it, you could only draw a blank. That left one option and one option only.

Ithaqua had brought this upon himself.

No matter how many times you tried to convince him, Ithaqua always firmly believed he didn't deserve you. He always saw you as some kind of saint, an angel that could do no wrong. Conversely, he always saw himself as unworthy, horrible, and selfish. Now, you had the results of his thoughts. You could respect his decision, or you could not.

The answer was obvious.

Like hell you were going to let him leave you like this!

He wanted to play a game of cat and mouse? Fine. Two can play at that game.

You ripped paper out of your drawers, writing with a fury that almost tore the delicate sheets. Your tears stained parts of the letter, making words slightly blotchy. Even with your vision blurry, you finished your final sentence and shoved it all in an envelope. With a quick stamp of wax, your letter was complete.

You steel your nerves as you walk down the dark hallway to the Illusion Hall, knowing that she'd be waiting for you there. She always seemed to know what people wanted, and of all people here, she was the only one who could deliver your letter to the baron.

Opening the door, you see Ms. Nightingale seated with tea. She smiles at you, motioning to the seat in front of her.

"I've been waiting."

The frigid winds of Leo's Memory whipped at your skin without mercy. You didn't care about that, however. You had a mission and you were going to complete it.

You made a bargain with the baron, offering him almost anything he wanted in exchange for a singles match with only you and Ithaqua. You were truly willing to give anything if it meant getting that stubborn man to just talk to you.

You knew making a deal with the baron was a horrible idea. Giving him the power to take anything from you? Even worse. Still, you were desperate, reckless, and furious. Ithaqua was once again isolating himself and he was hurting.

You were hurting.

So, you offered everything you had. You didn't know what the baron wanted, so you could only leave it to him to make the choice for you. You couldn't risk the baron getting annoyed with you and refusing you.

Surprisingly, he relented easily. He merely sent you a letter asking you to get Ithaqua back to normal.

Under the glow of night, Ithaqua looked ethereal. His hair was like moonlight, pure silver strands gleaming as they framed his face. His eyes were like the hydrangea that bloomed in the spring, clear and bright.

Ah.

You touch your face, surprised to feel a wetness lingering on your fingertips.

You missed him more than you realized.

In slow motion, you see him turn towards you. He freezes, staring at you as if you're a ghost before he bolts. Your eyes only narrow in response.

In an instant, you're after him.

Your lungs heave with each breath that leaves you, cold air ripping at your throat and choking you along with your tears. Despite this, you continue, far too used to running in such conditions to be hindered in any way.

You watch Ithaqua desperately run away, slipping occasionally but continuing nonetheless. You're gaining distance on him, and soon enough, you'll have him where you want him. With that in mind, you push yourself to keep going, to keep moving and catch that stubborn idiot of yours.

You suppose you're a stubborn idiot for loving him, too.

In a single moment, you have him pinned to the snowy ground. He gasps, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. He looks up at you and you know that if Ithaqua wasn't any less careful, he would've struggled. Your heart squeezes as you realize he doesn't in fear of hurting you.

You desperately gasp for air, but remain gazing at him with an intense look. You don't care about the tears that fall from your eyes or the cold. You only care for the fact that Ithaqua, after over a month of avoiding you, is finally in your sights. You would cry from the thought if you weren't already doing so.

He looks away from you with guilt, and there you see it. You see it in the way his face creases as if in pain, eyes dark and sorrowful. He's certainly thinking of something harmful again. The last time he did that, he left you for over a month.

Not again.

"Stop."

You can practically see him snap out of his thoughts in real time as you bring your hand up to cradle his face. You brush your thumb across his cheek, unable to stop your fondness despite your anger.

"You always look like that when you're thinking something self-deprecating." You whisper, almost choking as you think of how he must have felt throughout this time. You knew better than most how easy it was for both of you to succumb to negative thoughts. Being separated only made it worse, and this whole situation had been just that.

"I don't know why you've been avoiding me, but if it's because of something I've done, I'm sorry. Please tell me what I did, I won't do it again- I'll- I'll make sure I don't over step, or hurt you, or, or-" You cut yourself off, hiccuping as you roughly wipe your eyes. Your tears continue to fall no matter how many times you rub them away, never-ending.

The truth is you do know, that's what makes you cry harder. It pains you to think he hates himself so much he doesn't believe he's allowed to have anyone accept him.

It pains you to think he doesn't believe himself worthy of love.

"It's not your fault." He says gently, tenderly wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. He shifts around so he can cradle you, and you let him. As weak as he is to you, you are to him. Though you wish to be angry at him, you can only feel relief and affection so intense it burns you alive. It doesn't help that he looks at you like you're everything he desires, holding you delicately like a treasure.

"I don't deserve you. You're simply too pure- too good for someone like me. I'm not someone kind or patient, I'm cruel and temperamental. You deserve someone who isn't broken, someone whole. It shouldn't be your job to help me, you shouldn't have to deal with my outbursts. I knew you'd never abandon me yourself, so... I left on my own."

He buries himself in your shoulder, unwilling to look at your face. You think that's for the best, since you're sure you're making a face of pure agony.

To know it is one thing, but to hear it from Ithaqua himself that he felt absolutely unworthy of you was another. It ripped open a wound you didn't know existed, bleeding you out as you held him.

Taking a shaky breath in, you resolutely gaze up at the moon. You had come here to give Ithaqua a piece of your mind and you'd be damned if you didn't do so. It was now or never.

"Whether you are worthy of me or not is up to me." You force him to look you in the eye, hands holding his face firmly. "You do not get to make that decision for me. And in my eyes? You have always been worthy."

You watch as tears fall from his eyes, smiling kindly at him as you wipe them away. His eyes tell you practically all that you need, of how much he missed you, how he'd wanted to see you, of how much he loved you.

He lays his heart before you and you, in turn, cradle it gently, swearing to protect it for as long as you live.

He is a gentle breeze, one which soothes your soul. He is the first wind of spring that promises you a better future.

He is zephyr.

He is love.

Tag List

@ithaquakisser, @xiaosmary

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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persphonesorchid · 9 months ago

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Mark Of The Arcane || Chapter Four ||

↣ Summary; Centuries before, in the times of the ancient Kings, a prophecy was heard. When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruins, their saviour would come in blinding starlight. Who is this saviour, you may ask? None other than Min Yoongi, who was too busy being late to work to realize he definitely wasn’t on earth anymore.

↣ Part: Chapter Four; Lessons in History

↣Word count: 6.8k

↣Warnings: Yoongi and his anxiety, Seokjin is a little prickly.

Chapter Archive | Masterlist

Notes: Hello all! Welcome back to MOTA! I'm so sorry about the wait, writing this fic is a lot lol. There's so much to describe and so much to get done. From here on out the chapters will be much longer than the previous ones, as I don't want the series to drag out too much and it's not meant to be a long series anyway. So I'll try my best to get as much into a chapter before moving on. Things are s little slow right now, but i promise the exciting stuff will start soon! I really hope you all enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated and encouraged! Let me know what you think!

Yoongi follows behind Seokjin, gazing around at the difference of the hallway as he does. Earlier, the opposite side of the wall mirrored the side he came out of; a line of mahogany doors as far as he could see.

Now where the doors were, are windows in intervals. Tall arched panes of glass stained blue at the tops, and through them he could just make out the edge of a town far away and below. It’s mostly forest he could see, the tops of tall green trees and birds with strange long tails darting about to settle as the sun drags the moon into the sky.

The walls are greystone, and within the spaces between each window held a navy blue banner that comes halfway down the wall. The crest at the center is intricate; a mix of a lighter blue and gold, a golden sword spears downward into a crown near the hilt of the blade. Just below the crown is what Yoongi would describe as a fancy snowflake, surrounded by little wisps of small golden patterns, and wings sprouting at the sword's end. It’s all surrounded by blue and golden leaves that follow the upward arch of the wings.

It’s an enlarged version of the crested clasp of his cloak.

He hadn’t realized he stopped to stare at it until Seokjin whistled at him from further up the hallway. He jogs a little to meet him.

“They’re designed to confuse.” Seokjin says as Yoongi falls in step with him.

“Huh?”

“The hallway was different when you first came out, right?” Seokjin glances at him and then waves a hand at the wall. “They’re imbued with magic. A precaution His Majesty took years ago in case of a siege from outside forces. You’re not a threat, so it looks as normal as it does to everyone else.”

Yoongi isn’t sure if that’s an insult or not, being called non threatening. To Seokjin though, he’s certain he looks like a newborn foal trying to take his first steps into a world he doesn’t understand. So, he supposes it’s not an incorrect word choice.

Seokjin leads him through a door, and down another hallway. Unlike the hallway before, this one was teeming with people.

It’s mostly women, bustling around, some carrying what Yoongi assumes to be cleaning supplies, others pushing little carts with silver trays and platters. Most of them barely pay him mind, but stop briefly to incline their heads at Seokjin. They’re all wearing white and something blue: one girl that looked like she should be sitting in a classroom wizzes by, a navy blue ribbon tied into her frizzy hair; another with a blue armband calling after her.

The chatter of that hallway fades once it’s behind another closed door, and Yoongi follows Seokjin down a flight of spiral stairs.

“I’m taking you to Hoseok, do try to remember the way. I won’t be around to show you every time.” Seokjin’s words are a little clipped and Yoongi gets the feeling he doesn’t like him very much. He doesn’t want to be here anyway, much less be up in anyone’s hair causing issues.

He’s not too certain what Seokjin is, and finds himself staring at his ears rather than actually memorizing directions. He asked if he was an elf and he was offended, he’s not sure what else he’s supposed to think.

Seokjin stops at a door and knocks twice before pushing it open. The first thing Yoongi notices is how clean it smells. It burns his nose a little as he walks in, looking around at what clearly is a medical room.

There’s two shelves against the wall, one filled with thick tomes, and the other stacked with bottled things. Off to the left is a curtained area, and on the wall, charts of anatomy and other things that Yoongi couldn’t make sense of.

There’s another door on the far right of the room, closed with a little plaque that says ‘Private’ in small bold letters. Tucked near the wall is a desk, more books arranged neatly in a pile, papers under a bottle of something or the other to keep them there.

The door opens and Hoseok steps through it, still wearing his white coat and startled seeing Yoongi and Seokjin there.

“Oh – you guys scared me.” He presses a hand to his chest, “Jin, you haven’t seen Yoselin, have you? I’m afraid I may have upset her...”

“She’s still trying to get you to mentor her?”

Hoseok sighs, “She doesn’t have the affinity for it, but she’s stubborn. And with her sister being one of my students it’s made her feel left out.”

“She’ll come to... I’ve brought him for you.” He gestures to Yoongi, and turns on his heel to leave, “Oh, show him the way back please, I’ve got other things to get done before late.”

Hoseok waves him off with a hand and then he was gone.

“You don’t look so out of place anymore,” Hoseok smiles, “Take your cloak off and then you can get settled over there for me.”

Yoongi does as he’s told and takes his cloak off, shuffling over to the curtained area. He pulls the curtain back and there’s a bed that resembles a hospital bed where he came from. There’s hinges on the sides that make it so that the bed can be adjusted, and Yoongi sits on the end of it while Hoseok gathers some things from his desk.

He comes over not long after, holding a strange glass ball that glows a pale green. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright...” Yoongi mutters and Hoseok hums.

“Headache?”

“Gone.” Though, even as he says this, Yoongi could feel it at his temples, just not bad enough to be a bother.

“Stay very still.” Hoseok says, lifting his hand with the glass ball to Yoongi’s forehead, checks something, and then presses it against his chest. There’s a warm sort of feeling coming from it that he could feel even through his shirt. “Okay...”

Hoseok moves away briefly, walking back to his desk and sets the ball down. Yoongi watches in amazement as it floats a little above the surface of the table top. “Uh...what is that exactly?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s an essence meter. It measures your arcane magic intake levels.” He comes back over with a book, it’s thick and has little colorful page markers sticking out of the pages. “So far, you’re stable. But it can fluctuate as your body gets used to it, so if you feel sick you need to tell me.”

Yoongi nods, rubbing his hands along his thighs. He’s still so confused about everything, but he’s trying his best to take it as it comes and not dwell on it too much. Hoseok settles on a chair, sitting a little lower than Yoongi is, opening the book to a page and pulls a black feather quill out of an inside pocket of his coat.

“I’m going to ask you a few things, just procedure, don’t worry. Then you’re free to go.”

Hoseok asks him basic medical questions, and jots it all down in his book. It didn't take too long, and soon he was handing him a glass vial no longer than his index finger. The little things inside tink softly against the glass, they look like dried pieces of root, a reddish brown color.

“If you get any more headaches, you can put one of these in hot water. It’s what I gave you earlier.”

Yoongi grimaces at the memory, a phantom bitterness at the back of his throat. He nods, tucking the vial away into the pocket of his pants.

“Try to get as much rest as possible, too. Your body has to regulate your magic intake. You can come back every three days so I can see how it’s going.”

Hoseok ushers him to the door, patting his shoulder softly, “Oh, and don’t worry about Seokjin. He’ll warm up to you.” He opens the door and Yoongi almost walks right into another person.

The young man takes a stumbling step back as though Yoongi had bumped into him, and he almost reaches out to steady him. He does so himself, pressing a hand against the door frame and side steps so Yoongi could pass.

He looks a little sickly, dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days, and his cheeks blotchy. He offers Yoongi a kind smile regardless.

“Ah, Taehyung...I was just coming to get you. You don’t have to walk all the way here, you know.” Hoseok says, and as Yoongi steps out, Taehyung steps into the room and the door falls shut.

Yoongi thinks he could manage getting himself back to his room. He refastens the clasp of his cloak and retraces his steps. Back up the spiral staircase and into the hallway, luckily finding the right door, to the hallway filled with people still bustling around, Yoongi can only assume that they’re the servants of this place. As much as that thought throws him for a loop, these people look happy as they move about doing their tasks.

While no one had spared him a glance when he walked through here earlier with Seokjin, everyone he passes by pauses minutely to stare. He keeps his head down and tries his best to make it through without being in anyone’s way.

Night had fully fallen, and the scones embedded into the walls had been lit, casting a warm glow along every surface.

“Your Highness, please. The King will have me hanging by my toes in the courtyard.” A short, plump woman steps out of a door, and Yoongi stops just before he could run into her. Her hair is dark, held tightly at the top of her head in the neatest bun Yoongi’s ever seen. There’s a small towel slung over her shoulder, another hanging from the pocket of her navy blue apron.

You’re trailing behind her, both your hands on her shoulders and a bright, broad smile on your face. You step with her, clinging to her back like a baby monkey.

“He’ll do no such thing.” You laugh, and you press a kiss to her rosy cheek, “Please, Esther. If you do this for me, I’ll love you forever.”

Esther swats at you with her towel, pursing her lips. “You say that every time you little Lumispore.” She says shaking her head before sighing resolutely when you bat your eyelashes at her, “Alright, alright. Now, go on, some of us have work to do.”

“Thank you! I’m forever in your debt, my lady.” You tug at the skirts of your silk dress and curtsy, laughing as you pull back when Esther swings her towel at you again.

Esther turns and Yoongi steps aside, but her dark eyes are pinned on him and she tuts, “You’re the new lad? Goodness, you're skin and bones!”

She squeezes gently at Yoongi’s arms and he feels heat rise to his cheeks, “I’ll tell Wooyoung to make sure you get hearty meals... put some meat on you.” She shakes her head, and pats his cheek softly, “Don’t worry child, you’re in good hands.”

She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes before she’s going up the hall, “Rina, you know very well where those go!”

“Sorry about her, she’s a mother hen.” You say softly, smiling, “I hope she didn’t offend you?”

“Oh, no. No, she’s fine.” He’ll probably admit it out loud later, but it’s nice to have someone worry about him. She reminds him of Mrs Li, waddling off and chatting with the younger servants.

“Did you visit Hoseok?” You’re walking in the direction he’s heading and Yoongi’s not sure if it’s okay to walk in step with you, so he walks a couple behind, but still close enough to hear you. “How is your magic intake?”

“Hoseok says that it’s stable for now...” He watches as you wave off everyone that stops to bow or curtsy. You’re quite quick on your feet, and Yoongi’s somewhat glad to see that you’re wearing shoes this time. Even with the amount of people walking about, he could feel a cold draft coming through the slightly cracked windows.

“That’s good, an overflow of magic can be dangerous.” You nod to yourself, reaching the door at the beginning of the hallway and pushing it open with a hand.

“Do you know a lot about it?”

“Magic? Or, do you mean healing?” You chuckle, holding the door open until he steps through. “Healing was part of my studies. As for magic, everyone knows a lot about it.” You shrug a shoulder, and then look behind you.

“Oh, you don’t have to walk so far behind me.” You stop walking and wait until Yoongi steps where you’ve stopped before you fall into step with him. “I’m not that kind of royal.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, don’t apologize.”

Yoongi’s back to thinking that maybe he really did get drugged and stepped into some sort of weird lucid dream. He’s never paid much mind to fairytales, or Princesses for that matter, but you’re surely acting like one. Though, he’s read stories where royals are absolute assholes, and he supposes he may have expected a bit of that. A holier than thou attitude.

Back where he comes from, he’s sure you’re the type of princess that ends up in a Disney movie; beautiful and empowering and encouraging young girls to be kind.

“Hobi said where you came from doesn’t have magic.” You say softly, turning your head to look at him, “What’s it like?”

“Well...” Yoongi wouldn’t say there isn’t any magic where he came from. People find magic in all sorts of things, like first snows or four leaf clovers. People find magic in other people, children find magic in Christmas. But this place is different, magic in a literal sense, and if he thinks about it too much he’ll have another headache. “It’s nothing like this.”

“Must be strange...being here, I mean.”

“You have no idea.”

You’ve led him back to the hallway where his room is, quiet for a moment. “Oh! Right. You’ll need to learn how to properly control your arcane and be able to use it.”

“Um...” Yoongi feels a dull twinge of pain where his arcane sits. He has no idea how he’ll start to understand how to do that.

“Don’t look so frightened.” You chuckle softly, “I’ll be teaching you. And we won’t start right away, your magic intake would be a little weird for a while so it’s safer for everyone that we don’t attempt anything.”

Yoongi only nods, standing now, a little awkwardly.

“Are you hungry? I can have dinner brought to you.” You ask softly. He isn’t , but he doesn’t want to be rude by declining.

“I’d invite you to the dining hall but I think that would be too much for you right now.” You say, “And my father is a bit...” You shake your head, smiling again, although it seems a bit tense, “Go in, I’ll be right back.”

You step past him, going down a different hall than the one you’d both come from and Yoongi steps back into his room. He takes his cloak off, hanging the thick material on a hook near the door with a sigh. His eyes land on the book he left on the nightstand, walking over to sit on the bed.

He’d have to resign himself to not getting home any time soon. It’s better if he accepts it and moves forward as nothing could be done at the moment. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, suddenly thrust into this world with a prophecy over his head. It’s almost too much.

Yoongi is accustomed to just billowing through life, trying to move with the world lest it move on without him. It was easy, growing up in an orphanage and struggling to get by with the little he had. He’s never blamed his parents – whoever they are – for giving him up, he was fine without a mother’s comfort and a father’s guidance. He didn’t have anyone to make proud or anyone’s shoes to fill. It makes sense now, somewhat.

He feels like a kid who’s dressed in his father’s clothes pretending to be a man. Like someone put a pair of shoes at his feet and told him to wear them even if they’re too big for him. The weight of this world feels heavy on his shoulders, as though he’s an ant trying to lift a building.

How is he supposed to go along and be this savior everyone expects him to be? He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be saving them from. Some form of darkness that hasn’t been seen in centuries?

Being sent here would be no problem without all this extra shit on top of it.

Yoongi presses his fingers against the spot on his ribs where his arcane mark sits. He’s never complained about his life being ordinary, completely okay with nothing exciting happening. So of course this happens.

He’s thinking too much.

Just as he lays back into the soft linen sheets, there’s a knock on his door. It opens just a bit and your head pops through the gap. Yoongi sits back up as you open the door wider and wheeled in a silver cart before you.

“Hoseok said it’s okay for you to eat something heavier now.” You say, pushing the door closed, “I didn’t know what you’d like so I brought a bit of everything.”

You push the cart over, there’s two covered silver trays and two tall glasses filled with what Yoongi hopes is just water.

You uncover the first tray and there’s a plate of steamed potatoes, braised beef and sautéed carrots and what he would call broccoli if the little tree type things weren’t purple. There’s a little bowl with a fluffy looking pastry with a dollop of pinkish cream in the dipped center, another bowl with short grain rice garnished with something red and flaky and a smaller plate with two filets of fried fish.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ate with you?” You ask, uncovering the other tray that had a spread that mirrors his own.

“I don’t...”

You smile, reaching down to the other compartment of the cart, handing him utensils wrapped in soft blue cloth. You move away for a bit, and stare at the table tucked against the wall in the corner of the room with a hand on your hip and then back at the cart. Catching your train of thought, Yoongi gets up and pushes the cart over.

“Oh! I would’ve done it.”

“It’s alright.” He could push a cart, darn it. He feels like he’s being coddled, by a Princess no less. He doesn’t need to feel like he can’t do anything on top of everything else. He sets the plates, bowls and glasses of water on the table and then moves the cart out of the way before going back across the room to grab the other chair that Hoseok had left near his bedside.

He waits until you’re sitting to do the same, but isn’t sure which side of his food to start from. He picks up the bowl of rice and starts there, the red flakes are spicy.

“Was the book any interesting?” You’re eating the pastry first, scooping out the cream at the center with a small spoon. You motion at the book on his nightstand with a tilt of your head.

The fish is well seasoned and quite distracting, and Yoongi nods, “It didn’t tell me much about anything really...just why my...arcane was created...”

You hum softly, “Well, records on your arcane have been lost for centuries, there isn’t much to know about it unfortunately.” You finish off the pastry, “And there isn’t anyone that could teach you how to properly use it, with it being a pure arcane.”

“Pure arcane?”

“There are no subfields.” You say, and when Yoongi gives you a confused tilt of his head you catch yourself. “Ah. Well...before everything was The Firsts. We’re not entirely sure where they originated from, but they were the first arcane users. Their arcanes were the elements, my ancestor Incra, was the first wind arcane user. While the other elements broke off into subfields, there are rare arcanes that only occur once.

My arcane is hereditary, it's never been bestowed to anyone outside the royal bloodline. Which in itself makes it pure, though, it’s easy for me since everything I need to know about it was recorded.”

“So...how am I supposed to learn how to use it?” Yoongi worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, food forgotten.

“Esther wields a fire arcane, it’s somewhat similar to yours even with how different they are. She’ll be helping me.”

“Right...”

He’s halfway through his steamed potatoes, and you eat quietly across from him. He pokes at the beef with his fork, setting aside the purple broccoli with a little frown. Who knows what that would do.

He supposes he’ll have to get used to this rich food. Not that he hasn’t had something of the like before, it’s just working as a barista isn’t all that freeing; splurging on fancy things like beef was a rare occurrence. That, and most of the money he had to spare went into his savings.

“Y/n...?” Yoongi calls with uncertainty, even though you told him to address you by name. You look up from your plate, humming in question, a brow raised slightly. “Can you tell me anything more about the prophecy?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m sorry. There’s only one record of it and not a lot of people have seen it. Some people don’t even know there is a prophecy.” You chuckle a bit and then grow somber, eyes looking a little sad, “I know this must be hard for you... You’ve been taken away from your life and suddenly everything’s being thrown at you.”

“It’s...” Yoongi sighs, leaning back into the chair, “I’ll manage.”

You stare at him for a moment more, clearly wanting to say something else before you shake your head. “You should eat that,” you point at his untouched pastry with the end of your fork, and Yoongi’s grateful for the change of subject. “It’s amazing. The cream is made from eclipse berries and Duiox milk.”

“What milk?” Yoongi eyes the pastry like it would grow a head and start doing the tango.

“Duiox...it’s like a cow...but they have tusks...you don’t have those?”

After dinner, you say goodbye at the door, pushing the cart back outside his room. You seem a little reluctant to leave as you step outside, fiddling with the silk sleeves of your dress.

“How about a tour tomorrow? If you’re feeling well enough?” You ask, settling the cart against the wall, but your hands never leave the handle.

“That’d be nice.” Yoongi offers a smile. That’d be great actually, it’d be better for him to learn his way around this place if he’s going to be staying.

“Great! I’ll come fetch you after breakfast.” And with that you’re gone, pushing the cart up the hallway and Yoongi watches you leave.

The morning greets Yoongi with a whistled song, a beam of sunlight lighting a stripe along the marble floor. He groans softly as he wakes, a headache thrumming at his temples and behind his eyes when he opens them to squint.

There’s a strange looking bird on the windowsill, hopping along it, chirping softly. The rising sun sets its plumes ablaze in emerald and a sheen of pink, and Yoongi watches as it ruffles its feathers and flies off.

There’s a knock at his door that disturbs the quiet and sends the headache bouncing in his head. He doesn’t think it’s you, as you would poke your head in after waiting a moment. The knock comes again and Yoongi’s forced to get up, shuffling towards the door.

There’s a young servant girl behind it, her eyes wide and blue when he opens the door. She’s brought him breakfast, hidden under silver trays and tells him to simply leave the cart outside when he’s done.

He pulls the cart into his room, finding a breakfast of porridge, toasted bread, scrambled eggs and sliced fruit.

Under the second tray is a porcelain tea set, a small holder with cubes of sugar and another with milk. There’s little mesh bags that smell like spices, which he leaves reluctantly, instead, dropping one of the roots that Hoseok had given him into the teacup. He pours the water over it and watches the steam rise from the cup, giving it time to draw as he eats.

He chews on the crust of a toast slice, watching the water turn auburn. He drinks it quickly, and tries to ignore the bitterness of it.

When he’d finished his breakfast, he left the cart outside as he was told. Before he’d gone to bed last night, a few maid servants brought him clothes that they’d tucked into the wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room, and showed him where the bathroom was. Embarrassingly, the door was hiding behind white drapes he thought were just there for some sort of decoration.

The clothes he received were mostly black and white, and they all incorporated navy blue somehow. He’s guessed by now that’s just the colour scheme of this place. He pulls out a neatly folded black long sleeve tunic, the strings that hold the v-cut of the collar closed the same navy blue as the glittering trimmings of the hem, and black cotton pants that he’ll have to fold at the ankles.

There’s a couple of soft towels folded and tucked into the bottom corner of the wardrobe, and he hugs everything to his chest and makes his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom is large, shelves jutting out of the wall beside a mirror filled with an assortment of bath oils and scented candles. The white marble of the floor shimmers with golden swirls, and the sunken bathtub in the middle of the room is big enough to fit four people standing five feet apart.

The silver faucet at the foot of the tub hums before it spits water when he turns the knob, steam rising and curling into the air. He sets his clothes and towel down, standing before the shelf to pick two of the oils he thinks smells the best.

There’s one that smells strangely of apricot and cinnamon, and one of mint leaves and a label that promises to soothe aches and pains. He pours a bit of each into the water and sinks into it with a sigh.

And Yoongi stays there until the light of the sun seems a bit brighter, no longer hiding behind trees and early morning mist. The sounds that float from outside through the cracked window aren’t half as mindful, as everyone is starting to wake up and go about their day. It’s different to the sounds he’s used to: honking cars and the buzz of traffic, people yelling, his neighbour’s stomping steps in the apartment above him. It’s quieter, the world wakes gently; he likes the change.

He feels different today, the jitter of his nerves had calmed some since last night, the headache he woke with was all but a memory that would be back later, he’s sure. He thinks that at some point between last night and waking, he’s accepted what his life is to be now. The weight of so many people’s lives apparently in his hands, the pressure that he’s certain would come with learning the workings of his arcane, the fact that he may never go back home. All of it.

He stays in the bath until his fingers are prunes and the water is cold, and his hair is a little short of damp; drying in a frizzy mess. He steps out of the tub, watching as the water magically drains away. He dries off and gets dressed, the clothes sticking to his damp skin where the swipe of the towel missed and steps out. He leaves the door open so that the air can flow through the room, filling his bed space with the scent of apricot and cinnamon.

When he's rolling his socks on and tucking the ends of his pants into the top of his boots, there’s a soft knock on his door. He expects the pause that comes after as much as he expected the door to open and you poking your head in.

You smile when you spot him, and Yoongi’s afraid that at some point, he’ll get too used to it. Your dress is silk and pale yellow today, a blue ribbon twisted into the braid of your hair.

“Good morning,” You greet at the door, not coming in and Yoongi wonders why, “Did you sleep well?”

There’s a murmur somewhere behind you that makes you look over your shoulder and roll your eyes, “Stop that.”

Yoongi stands, and at his approach you pull away from the gap in the door, and he finds Seokjin there too, leaning against the adjacent wall.

“If you’re going to be annoying you may as well find something else to do, Jin.” You say, turning to face Seokjin as Yoongi steps out of the room.

Seokjin points a finger to himself, looking offended, “Me? Annoying? I’m a joy to be around!”

“Yes. Whenever you’re not being like....whatever it is you’re being now.” You wave a hand at him, pursing your lips.

“It's my job to follow you around, Your Highness.” Seokjin retorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “I can’t just leave you alone with a stranger.”

“I’ll be fine.” You say a little testily, and Yoongi eyes dart between you and Seokjin as you have a stare off. He suddenly feels like he shouldn’t be standing here listening, feeling awkward and not sure what to do with his hands.

“I’ll walk five steps behind.” Seokjin says, moving a little ways away and counting his steps for you to hear, much to your evident annoyance.

You sigh through your nose, shaking your head before you turn to Yoongi. “There’s a lot to see, come on.”

You lead him through different hallways, showing him different rooms and different things of cultural significance, and Yoongi tries his best to keep up with it all. Seokjin is still walking five steps behind, and every now and then he could feel the weight of his gaze.

The library within the palace is expansive, the grandeur of its size evident as you step into the room. Rows of towering bookshelves line the walls, their mahogany frames gleaming softly in the ambient light filtering through stained glass windows. Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes in the vast collection of leather-bound tomes and ancient scrolls neatly arranged on polished wooden tables.

You gesture towards the rows of books, your voice carrying a note of reverence as you speak. “This is the heart of the palace’s knowledge, where centuries of history and wisdom are preserved.” As you lead Yoongi deeper into the library, you pause occasionally to point out notable works or elaborate on the significance of certain texts.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from curiosity to awe as he absorbs the wealth of information surrounding him. He finds himself immersed in the quiet serenity of the library, captivated by the timeless treasures it holds within its walls.

As you guide Yoongi further into the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink hangs in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of polished wood. Sunlight streams through ornate windows, casting ethereal patterns of light and shadow across the rows of shelves.

You pause beside a particularly ornate display case, its glass surface protecting delicate manuscripts and artifacts. “These are some of the rarest and most valuable pieces in our collection,” you explain, your voice hushed with reverence.

Yoongi leans in closer, his gaze drawn to the intricately illuminated manuscripts and ancient relics within the case. He reaches out tentatively, as if hesitant to disturb the timeless beauty before him.

As you continue the tour, weaving through the maze of bookshelves and alcoves, Yoongi’s fascination deepens with each passing moment. The weight of Seokjin’s silent presence fades into the background, overshadowed by the richness of knowledge and history contained within the library’s walls.

Together, you and Yoongi explore the depths of the library, delving into its vast archives and uncovering the secrets of centuries past. In this sanctuary of learning and discovery, time seems to stand still, allowing Yoongi to lose himself in the wonders of the written word.

Nestled within the heart of the library, concealed behind a discreet doorway veiled in shadow, lies a chamber of treasures known only to the royal family of Jax. This clandestine sanctum, accessible only to those of royal blood, houses a collection of artifacts and tomes that are as priceless as they are precious.

As the heavy door swings open on silent hinges, a soft glow spills forth, illuminating the room in a warm, golden light. Shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, laden with ancient scrolls, intricately bound tomes, and ornate artifacts of bygone eras. Each item within this sacred space holds a piece of the kingdom’s history, a testament to the valor, wisdom, and legacy of generations past.

Among the treasures housed within this chamber are artifacts of great significance, relics from battles long fought and victories hard won. Weapons forged of enchanted steel, their edges still sharp with the echoes of ancient conflicts, stand alongside intricately crafted jewelry adorned with precious gemstones, each piece a symbol of royal heritage and lineage.

Alongside the artifacts, shelves groan under the weight of countless tomes, their leather bindings weathered with age yet still bearing wisdom. These volumes contain the accumulated knowledge of scholars and sages, chronicling the history, culture, and arcane arts of the kingdom of Jax.

As Yoongi steps into this hallowed chamber, he is enveloped in a sense of reverence and awe, keenly aware of the weight of history that surrounds him. Each artifact and tome holds a story waiting to be discovered, a glimpse into the rich tapestry of the kingdom.

The air hums with an almost palpable energy, suffused with the residual magic of centuries gone by. Illuminated by soft, ethereal light that dances and flickers across the ancient stone walls, the room exudes an aura of mystique and wonder.

Upon shelves of polished oak and gilded metal, an array of artifacts sits neatly behind clear glass, each one imbued with its own unique enchantment. Robes of shimmering silk hang suspended in midair, their fabric rippling as if stirred by an unseen breeze, while ancient tomes bound in spell-woven leather beckon with promises of forbidden knowledge.

Glowing crystals pulsate with otherworldly radiance, casting prismatic hues across the room, while ornate staffs and wands stand sentinel, their intricate carvings whispering secrets of arcane power.

“Some arcane users use magic embedded weapons to channel their power.” Seokjin says from the doorway, keeping his word to stay at a distance. He doesn’t disturb your rambling, stepping closer to Yoongi as you move further away, not noticing that they weren’t following. “Some of these were made by the pixies, most of them by the Fae.”

Of course they have pixies, the surprises may never end, and curiosity makes Yoongi ask: “The Fae?”

Seokjin spares Yoongi a glance, “Your world must be so boring.” He sighs, “The Fae are thought to be descendants of an Arcane user that was cursed. They could be mistaken for pixies at a glance if you don’t know what to look for. They use arcane magic and their artifacts as they don’t have magic like the pixies do. They also don’t have wings, and the point of their ears are a lot shorter.”

Yoongi realises this is the most Seokjin has spoken to him since he’s arrived, without the air of barely concealed contempt. He glances at his ears and Seokjin notices, chuckling softly.

“I’m not a Fae. Half pixie.” He clarifies for him, though his tone is a little strained. “I don’t carry an arcane.”

His voice trails off and Yoongi senses that the moment is over. Your steps trail back to them, “You two had me talking to myself.”

“Sorry.” Yoongi and Seokjin speak at the same time, and Seokjin remains close as you continue walking.

You seem to glow in the soft glitter of light, a sparkle in your eyes as you explain everything to him. He wonders how you keep everything at the top of your head to rattle it off like you’re telling him about the weather.

Leaving the sanctuary of the library and the room of artifacts behind, you guide Yoongi through a series of winding corridors adorned with portraits of the royal family and their ancestors. Each painting tells a story, capturing the essence of generations past in vibrant strokes and intricate detail.

You pause before a particularly imposing portrait, its gilt frame gleaming in the dim light. It depicts a figure enveloped in swirling winds, their form shrouded in mystery and power.

“This is Incra.” you announce, your voice tinged with reverence. Incra, depicted in the painting, is a woman of striking beauty and undeniable grace. Her dark hair cascades in glossy waves around her shoulders, framing a face adorned with features as delicate as porcelain. Her eyes, pools of deep, mysterious darkness, hold a glimmer of ancient wisdom and unfathomable power.

In the painting, Incra stands with poise and confidence, her figure shrouded in billowing robes that ripple like the winds she commands. Her presence is commanding yet ethereal, radiating an aura of otherworldly elegance and strength.

Despite the passage of time, the artist has captured Incra’s timeless beauty with remarkable precision, immortalizing her as a symbol of reverence and awe.

Yoongi’s gaze lingers on the painting, captivated by the enigmatic figure at its center. He can almost feel the crackle of energy radiating from the canvas, a testament to the awe-inspiring abilities of the kingdom’s ancient arcane users.

As you move along the hallway, you continue to point out notable figures from the kingdom’s history, offering brief descriptions of their accomplishments and legacies. Yoongi listens intently, his curiosity piqued by the rich tapestry of stories woven into each painting.

With the tour of the paintings complete, you lead Yoongi onward, eager to show him more of the palace’s treasures and secrets. As you traverse the hallowed halls of the castle, Yoongi’s sense of wonder only grows, fueled by the tales of valor and magic that echo through its storied corridors.

Next to him, Seokjin stifles a yawn, “If you don’t stop her she could go on all day.” He says, as you open another door with flair, waving them both forward with a hand. Yoongi doesn’t mind really, even with all the knowledge trying to find a place to settle in his head, having to fit amongst all the other regular things already in there.

At the other end of this hallway is an arched ceiling above another door. The walls are carved by little arched windows that are opened to let the cool air from outside blow in.

Before you all could reach the other door, the door behind Yoongi and Seokjin opens. A young man steps through, eyes glancing between Yoongi and Seokjin before they settle on you. He looks like a guard, though dressed very differently to Seokjin. Adorned in a fitted tunic of midnight black, embellished with intricate silver embroidery that catches the light in subtle glimmers, the guard cuts a striking figure against the backdrop of the palace walls. His trousers, tailored to perfection, flow seamlessly into polished leather boots.

The hood of the dark cloak hides the colour of his hair, the folds of it billows at his feet in the slight breeze. There’s a a stretch of dark fabric over the bottom of his face that hides most of his features that leaves just the striking azure of his eyes. He looks like an assassin if Yoongi didn’t know any better.

“Your Highness.” He calls, and there’s a different air about him that Yoongi could feel. It crackles about him like static. “His Majesty requests you.”

“Oh.” You seem to deflate a bit, and Seokjin pats your shoulder gently.

“You can bore us later.”

There’s a swipe of your hand and Seokjin pulls away with a laugh, just shy of getting hit. There’s clearly something more between you both that goes beyond a Princess and her guard.

Yoongi thanks you for taking the time to show him around and you smile, bidding them both goodbye before you follow after the young man.

It’s quiet between Yoongi and Seokjin , the silence slowly melting into something a little awkward as they’re left alone.

“Well this was riveting.” Seokjin says, dropping his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and leading him forward towards the other end of the hallway. “I’ll show you the courtyard. All the fun stuff happens there.”

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#Persphonesorchid #Fic: Mark Of The Aracne #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts series #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #bts suga #bts suga x reader #bts fantasy au #princess!reader #bts fic recs

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