#not in a 'WE MUST PAIR EVERYONE. NO ONE LEFT BEHIND!!!!' way but in a 'oh boy a chance for a wlw ship in this hell!'

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe fluff #cute rafe #obx fic

[ragnars-tooth]

Is there such a thing as a crack ship if the fandom is six people? Asking for no particular reason *brushes a zanna/jodie shaped lump under the carpet*

#rangnar rambles #jodie is tams gf who rightfully thought he was cheating with zanna #and proceeded to call zanna beautiful in the same sentence sooo <- delusional #i love also when i preceed all my posts with 'hey guys do you remember this character we spoke to twice? #yeah im obsessed with them' content for the main cast? oh no sorry i dont do that <3 #this is particularly in the context of david/tam alongside zanna/jodie #not in a 'WE MUST PAIR EVERYONE. NO ONE LEFT BEHIND!!!!' way but in a 'oh boy a chance for a wlw ship in this hell!' #look im the guy who thinks russ and bergstorm are married what do you want from me #i do like tam/david/zanna but she fr hates these men 80% of the time and i think she deserves a little break <3 #i finished the fire eternal again if you couldnt tell 💀 #gimme 2 days and a coffee and ill have a personality for jodie extrapolated from crumbs and dust 🫡 #this is a joke i will be taking too seriously. which i suppose is the entire definition of a crackship

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

This was going to be a little something, but I got carried away, anyway, enjoy.

Thinking about reader entering the elevator to find the whole 141 fully dressed and armed inside. 💗

Warning: There is a little smut ahead ❤️ Gaz x Reader

“There really is no need!” You exclaim, finally coming out of the paralyzed state you were in. Just as the door was about to close you managed to slip out, forcing the door to open again by detecting the movement. “I'll just go out the way I came in, no need to worry.” 

You try to make your way to the car, walking backwards so that you don't have to break eye contact with them since they are looking at you like you are an absolute lunatic. Maybe you are. 

The only thing you can see of them is their eyes as they look at you, and then the three of them that are on the right turn to the one on the left. The one that spoke to you and to the radio. 

He puts his hand on the door again, and slowly turns his head to the one closer to him. Then he nods in your direction and says only loud enough for them to hear: “Grab her.”

Not needing to hear anything, and trusting your guts, the second the man puts a foot down to begin walking your way, you bolt, running as fast as you can to your car. 

Thanking whoever is listening that still has your keys in your hands, you unlock your car and as soon as you reach it, you open the driver's door and enter, closing it behind you. 

Or trying to. 

Before you can yourself in your car, a hand holds the door and pushes it back open. He tries to grab your arm so you move to the copilot seat, trying to move away knowing that there is no way out but still trying. 

You push your back against the door, desperate to create space as the man starts to enter your car and you try to kick him away. “Please let me leave! I don't know what's going on, I can't say anything if I don't know what's going on! Please!”

He doesn't respond with his voice but in his eyes, you see something similar to pity that makes you wonder what you must look like, glassy eyes with tears pricking at your eyes from fear, trying to move as away as possible from him in your minuscule car and trying to kick him away but with barely any strength too scared to actually hurt him and make it more difficult for you. 

The door behind your back suddenly opens and before you can do anything, a pair of strong arms grab you by your torso keeping your arms close to your chest and unable to move them. “Gotcha!” Says the voice behind you with a strong accent and almost fun in his voice, like he just won a tag game. 

You trash around trying to get free, unable to even reach the ground, tears beginning to flow down your cheek. “Please, please, I promise I won't say anything, ple-” A massive hand covers your mouth, silencing your pleas and forcing you to look at the third man that followed you to your card. Brown eyes look at you with furrowed eyes and say slowly, almost testing how stupid you are. “Are you going to make this easy for everyone, or do you just want to make it harder, angel?”

You nod your head, afraid to even try and speak. “Yes? Yes, what? Are you going to behave? Good girl.” He says as you keep nodding and you see his eyes twirl the slightest with a smile. “C’mon, Johnny, bring her to the elevator.” 

The four of you make your way inside of the elevator when the first man who spoke to you remains holding the door shaking his head at you as you are dragged inside. “Now why would you try something like that, you silly girl?” He says taking something from his back pocket.

“Maybe she likes to be chased.” Says the man that you tried to kick before and you quickly shake your head still unable to talk earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, we can't have any more of that. Put her behind Kyle, Soap.” Says the first man, and you can finally see that what he picked from his pocket is a pair of cuffs and you begin to trash again. Futile, you know it, since the man behind you (Soap, you guess), holds your hands putting them around the man’s waist (Kyle was his name?) and you quickly feel the cuff go around your wrist keeping your plush against Kyle's back, the indents and trinkets of his backpack pressing against your face. “Now, no more tears, kid. You brought this upon yourself, so no more games.” He says looking at you poking his head from the other side of the man, but you can help it back to let the tears flow free. “Aw, c’mon, lass. Don't cry, yer be free in a bit. Look, Captain has the keys, we'll let you go soon, see? Right her- Shit!” 

The Scottish man behind you was saying, as he pointed and moved around you, and when he was about to point to the keys in his captain's hand, his eyes were not on the keys but instead on your face. So he didn't measure the distance and instead knocked the keys out of his captain's hand. 

So now, the five of you look as the key falls, not to the floor, but straight to the small space under the elevator door just as it closes. Getting out of reach, and possibly never to be seen again. 

“Johnny, you fucking twat!”

Maybe if you did some overtime today, if you came across one more red light on your way back, if you stayed in your car a couple of minutes more you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation.

But you didn't.

So here you are now, hiding your face on the back of some military man, crying out of absolute fear for your wellbeing, handcuffed so you can't run and hearing the four men on the elevator argue with each other. 

Until an especially hard sob escapes your mouth making you bite your lips to silence yourself and everyone else to shut up. 

A warm hand engulges yours, assuming that it is Kyle's trying to calm you down by drawing little circles on your hand. “It's okay, luv. We have more keys, just not here. You just gotta stick with us for a little longer, and then you'll be back to your life, a’right?”

You hiccup as you try to stop crying, still biting your lips and out of reflex, you move your hand to grab one of his fingers, trying to ground you and get calmer. 

You notice a hand going down your back making you jump and grab Kyle's finger harder before you hear someone shushing you. “When we get out there, I'm gonna need you to be quiet, alright? And move along with Sargent Garrick, careful with your feet… Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty face.” 

You slowly move your head to face him, you recognize the voice as the Captain's voice but you finally see his face as he has moved his mask and now you can see the lower part of his face, mainly covered still by his beard and moustache, but with a kind smile on his face. A soft sigh escapes his lips when he sees you and it makes you think about what you must look like. 

Raw, plush and red lips from biting them, glossy eyes and wet cheeks flushed against the sergeant’s back; an absolute mess.

“Poor birdie, what have you gotten yourself into?” He says as he cups your head. “You are going to be good, right? We are going to take care of you, so no need to be so afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as you are with us. It is all going to be over soon, luv.”

He caresses your head once more, and when the elevator reaches your floor, he puts the mask back up. The four of them get the weapons in their hands and begin to beeline out of the elevator.

Kyle gives you one last squeeze to your hands before letting them go to grab his gun and walk out last of the elevator with you behind. 

“Bravo-6 to Watcher-1, we are on the 6th floor, moving to the objective apartment.” The captain says walking first. 

“Watcher-1 to all, the apartment is the 608. Proceed with caution, we don't know how many are inside.”

“Roger that, are there any secondary entries, Watcher?”

“Any available on time, Bravo-6. Just the main door.”

“You can jump from my terrace.” You whisper to Kyle who whips his head so fast when he hears you talk you are surprised he didn't get dizzy. “I live next door.”

“Quiet, birdie!” Kyle screams-whispers back, gaining the attention of the captain. 

“What did she say?” Ask the captain back.

“She said she lives next door to the objective, that we can jump from the terrace. Worth a look?” Kyle asks back.

“Where do you have the keys?” A deep voice coming from the only man you don't know the name jet asks next to you, and you push your butt out.

“Back pocket.” You say looking at him.

“Lucky Lt.” Soap mumbles somewhere close.

The unknown man gets his hand down your pocket and grabs your keys without unnecessarily lingering. 

You tell them your apartment number and when they open you explain to them that it is in your bedroom, and they just need to jump over the half wall on the side. 

“Ghost and Soap go through the outside, Gaz you coming with me. Ghost, check how many people are inside and we will enter at the same time.” Captain orders and you decide that you have already heard enough.

You know bullets are about to fly everywhere and blood is about to run and you don't want neither to see nor to hear any of that. 

So you hide your face on Kyle's back and grab his belt to steady yourself. You hear the Captain's voice shout something and after that, it is all chaos. You focus all of your senses on moving in tandem with Kyle, making sure not to get your feet on his way. 

At some point, you feel a sharp pain a bit higher than your elbow, but you ignore it, way too terrified to check it.

It is all a blur of noise and movement, but finally, there is no more shooting and you can only hear an angry man shout. 

You finally pop your head around Kyle to check who is screaming and you come across your neighbour, shouting at the captain until he sees you.

“You! I knew you were a fucking spy, you fucking whore! You don't know who you just fuck with! You are dead, bitch! You heard me? DEAD!”

“Darling, he is not getting close to you.” Kyle tries to reassure you.

You are currently sitting on his lap, strangling his legs, still cuffed around him. You both are sitting on the back of the ambulance, as the paramedic takes care of the wound on your arm. Not that you care about it, becoming minuscule in your hierarchy of problems after receiving a death threat from a terrorist. 

“Yes, he is!” You argue back as you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. “He is and he is going to kill me! And I didn't do anything!” 

“Hey, look at me, doll.” He says as he cups your face with his hands. “You are with us, right? Nothing is gonna happen to you if you are with us. Nothing's gonna hurt you if you stick with us. Do you not trust me?” He asks, looking at you with almost puppy eyes, he follows your gaze when you look at the wound on your elbow and looks back to him as he changes his expression to look at you with a bright smile. “No need to answer, doll.”

“How's the damage?” Captain Price (as they told you) asks, walking closer to the both of you. 

“No damage to the bone, but the soft tissue will need some time to heal.” The paramedic says as he gives the last sutures and puts on the dressing. “And either she is a fighter, or she was busy crying about something else, but she didn't complain once.”

“Ah, she's a fighter, that I know.” Price coos at you petting your head again and you feel yourself blush.

“Do you have the key for the cuffs, Captain?” You ask to change the subject and he smiles mischievously when he hears the way you call him.

“Don't call me that, sweet girl. I'm not your Captain, call me John, Price if you are not comfortable with firsts name.” He says and you nod letting him know you understand. “And I asked about the keys, but the master key is at the base. So guess you have to stick around with us for a bit more, sorry dear.”

You hide your face on Kyle's neck again sighing feeling your tears sting in your eyes. A sob escapes your lips and automatically both Price and Kyle are shushing and cooing at you. 

“What's making you so upset, doll? Are you uncomfortable with the sergeant?” Price asks, rubbing your back and you shake your head. “Then what is it? Use your words, love, please.”

“I'm just exhausted… I just wanted to go to bed… I'm so tired…” You mumble against Kyle's skin provoking him goosebumps and a sight to leave his lips.

“Let's get going then, the earlier we get to base the earlier you get back home.” He pats Kyle on the other shoulder and he stands up, you in his arms, as if you were weightless to the taller man.

You don't comment on the fact that he holds you from your ass, it’s too comfortable being held and you’d rather take it than to test your legs and force yourself to walk. 

Price opens the door to the minivan and Kyle sits with you on his lap. Price closes the door, circles the car and opens the door to sit on the other side. You look around quickly to see Ghost driving and Soap on the copilot seat.

After a couple of minutes of the drive, you notice Price slips a bit on his seat, just enough to rest his head on the headrest, and he puts his hat over his face to shield himself from the street lights as he crosses his arm to sleep for the rest of the drive.

And you envy him because you wish you could sleep too. If it wasn't because it seems like Ghost is catching every single curb and bump on the road, and every time he does, your and Kyle’s crotches rub each other making you both groan softly.

His hands find their way to your waist as you reposition yourself on his lap and he whispers to your ear. “You gotta empty that pretty head of yours, luv. It'll help you relax.”

You notice the growing bulge pressing right to your cunt, and when Kyle begins to move your hips back and forth against it… you let him. 

“Such a sweet girl, hm?” He mumbles as he drops wet open mouth kisses on your neck. “Poor, poor birdie. Getting involved in such a nasty situation, because of somebody else's mistakes.”

Little sighs escape your lips as you grab his t-shirt trying to not make any noise, the captain still sleeping on just two seats to your left.

You should be embarrassed, ashamed of yourself, afraid of these men you just met, of doing such a nasty thing in front of three other men even if they haven't noticed jet. 

But Kyle's hardening cock is still brushing against your cunt and it is making it really hard to focus on anything else.

Enjoying his freedom of movement, he undoes the first button of your work shirt, just to keep kissing your neck lower, grazing your collarbone.

His fingertips grab your hips harder, making it easier to move against him. 

“Helping us so much, letting us enter your house, your bedroom, taking the bullet like a champ. The trainees could learn from you. Moving so in sync with me, I didn't step on you even once. But you like moving with me don't you, sweet girl, hm?” He asks against your ear, making you shudder as you keep moving against them.

You can feel your panties get soaked with your arousal, the mix of Kyle's praises being whispered to your skin, his hard cock throbbing again and again against you, your ego inflating because of it, knowing you are affecting him just as he is affecting you, his warm hands on your waist.

“Take what you need, sweet girl. Take it, luv.” He mumbles letting his head rest on the seat headrest as his hand moves down to your ass impulsing you.

You can feel your climax coming closer and closer every second passing, but then Kyle moves you slightly back and the pressure moves to your clothed clit and you hide your face on his neck biting down as the orgasm washes over you.

Kyle goes back to whispering on your neck. “Keep moving, doll. Please, please, a little bit more, just a bit more, I know you can do it, please, doll… you are driving me crazy, please…” he begs softly as he moves his hips against yours making you gasp against his skin. Warm breath against the drool you just let on his skin making him shudder grunting softly just before he cums on his pants against your cunt. 

So close yet so far 

I have never in my life written smut before, so let me know how catastrophic that was.

Anyway, sorry if it is messy, I really have no clue where I'm taking this. Let me know if there any scenarios you would like to happen 💗

And I can't express how happy I am that so many people liked the first part, really, thanks so much.

#price #captain price #captain john price #soap #john soap mactavish #ghost #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #gaz #price x reader #price imagine #soap x reader #soap imagine #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x you #gaz x y/n #soap x y/n #price x y/n #soap x you #john price #call of duty #cod mw2 #141 x reader #call of duty smut #gaz smut #poly 141 x reader

[normspellsman]

Take Me With Her

“She Is Mine” Lo’ak Version

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, forbidden secret relationship, tiniest bit of fluff, no comfort at all, & violence

word count: 4.1k+ (don’t…just don’t)

warning(s): hissing, lo’ak calling reader babygirl (eeekkk), mentions of death + injury, death threats, lo’ak being possessive, kidnapping, cursing, suggestive tones, brief neck kissing, quaritch being a creep (ewww), reader thinking that she’s going to die, everyone being terrified, spider + lo’ak thinking about killing quaritch, & lo’ak crying

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @goodiesinthecloset21 @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @minkyungseokie @amortencjja @chshshhshshshshshshshs

word bank: yawne — beloved, paskalin — honey (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, & prrnen — baby

note: spider, kiri, lo’ak, & reader are aged up to around the age of seventeen. it just makes more sense given the timeline i had in my head & with what i wrote. also going to be two parts hehe 🤭

Giggles erupted from your throat, your shoulder coming up instinctively to hide your neck from the ticklish attacks your boyfriend was doing to your delicate skin. You were almost confident that he even left some marks on the dips of your collarbones from his nipping.

Lo’ak whined in protest, attempting to burrow his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“Yawne,” he whimpered, rubbing his cheek against your pulsepoint once he finally broke through your insistent hiding of your neck. “Can’t I show my love to my babygirl?” He whined, yet again.

You huffed in response, not sure if it was from annoyance or the proximity of your lovers face from your neck.

“No, Lo’ak. It is getting late and we must get back,” you replied, finally coaxing him out from your neck.

The Na’vi boy in front of you pouted, tightening his grip on your waist as he looked up at you from your position on his lap. Your thighs were on either side of Lo’ak’s waist causing you to kneel as he rested in between your legs.

“Just a few m’re minutes,” he pleaded, diving back into your neck as he gently ghosted his lips against the soft flesh and puckered his lips against it.

You gave out a small sigh, hands going up to the back of Lo’ak’s head and into his braids. “Sure,” you replied, making your boyfriend's tail perk up and wag back and forth from behind him, “Later. When we go home.”.

Lo’ak let out a frustrated groan, burying his face into your neck again and taking a deep inhale of your scent before reluctantly pulling away. A pout made its way to his face again.

“Fine,” he mumbled, standing up with you still in his tight hold.

“Lo’ak!” You squealed out, increasing your grip on his shoulders so as to not fall from his arms. He was such a pain in your ass sometimes.

The boy smirked at your response, bringing you a bit higher in order to be face to face with him, “Yes?”.

“Put me down you big oaf!” You demanded, slightly glaring at your smirking boyfriend, “And don’t drop me either! Gently put me down.”. You knew how Lo’ak worked during his teasing moments, it was always too obvious what he was thinking when the thought came across his mind. There were too many times where he playfully let you go and wasn’t quick enough to catch you, resulting in you harshly landing on your ass.

“Sure thing, princess,” he obeyed, gently placing you down onto the Pandora floor and kissing the crown of your head. “Better?” He asked.

Simply rolling your eyes at him, you shook your head and began to walk away, hoping to find Spider or Tuk to spread the message that you needed to start heading back home before eclipse began.

“Ugh. Baby, wait!” Lo’ak called out, quickly gathering his bow before swiftly following after you, tail swishing behind him as he did so.

———

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

First, Lo’ak stumbled upon strange footprints, tracking them to the forbidden shack, a place where Jake warned you guys repeatedly to never go. Then, Jake ordered all of you to fall back and head back to the stronghold. After that, it was going smoothly. Kiri and Lo’ak were bickering back and forth about how much trouble the boy was going to be in while Spider and you trailed behind Tuk, before she was snatched up by an RDA Avatar. Lo’ak had thrown himself in front of you, hiding your much shorter frame from the enemy soldiers' sights as he bared his fangs and drew back his bow. But that didn’t last long until an unwelcome figure came up behind you and roughly pulled you back by your hair, making you yelp out in response. Which led to where you were now, struggling in an Avatar’s tight grip as Quaritch began to eye all five of you.

“Show me your hands boy,” he demanded, striding up to Lo’ak as the boy was forced to kneel before the man.

Lo’ak only lifted up both of his middle fingers to Quaritch as his response, causing the man to reach behind the boy and harshly pull at his queue. Lo’ak hissed out in response to the pain, growling as his eyes shot daggers into Quaritch’s skull.

You shouted out in protest, beating your hands against the soldiers skin in attempts to force them to let go of you. But that only caused their grip on your hair to tighten, you whimpering out in response.

Your boyfriend's ears drew back at your expression of pain, letting out a little snarl as you went quiet.

Anxiety erupted within Lo’ak’s body as his eyes darted to both of his sisters to Spider and to you, lingering on you the most. Which proved to be something he shouldn’t have done as Quaritch caught onto the boys staring, slowly turning around and following his gaze.

Fuck, you thought when Quaritch made eye contact with you, gulping at his blank yet wild amber eyes. Holy shit, I’m going to die.

The thought was so abrupt in your mind, scaring you with how fast it formed. Everything about Quaritch and the situation you were put into terrified you. You always felt safe around other Na’vi, even Neytiri at times. But there was just something about the armed soldiers surrounding you that made you want to crawl within yourself and never come out. Every move they made, made you think it was going to be your final moments on Pandora. You just hoped that if it was, they had the decency to take you out of eyesight and do it then. You didn’t want the others, especially Lo’ak and Tuk, to see the potential violent scene.

The minute Quaritch switched his attention from Lo’ak to you, the teen boy snarled at the man, challenging him to do anything to you. There was no way that Lo’ak would even allow Quaritch to touch a singular hair on your head. Over my dead fucking body, he internally seethed.

A cackle escaped the Colonel's lips, tightening his grip on the boy's queue before turning back to the five-fingered boy. An unsettling smile etched itself onto the man’s lips as he slightly bent down to face Lo’ak, ears pinning back to the sides of his head.

“That your girl boy?” He asked, a smirk evident on his face. Lo’ak wanted to claw that smirk off his face. How dare he speak of you? Of his mate? Quaritch was pushing at Lo’ak’s buttons and he knew it. And it was working.

“How does that even work? I mean, she’s so much smaller than you. Very fragile too,” he taunted, pulling the back of Lo’ak’s head back, making him cry out in pain. “Be a shame if-” he started, but was caught off by a loud growl and hiss.

“Shut the fuck up!” Lo’ak sneered, “Keep her out of your fucking mouth.”.

Another cackle left the Colonel’s mouth, tongue gliding over his new sharp teeth before unsheathing the knife from his hip, holding it up inches away from the teen boys chest.

“No! Please! Don’t hurt him!” You yelled out, thrashing around in the soldiers grasp, ignoring the stinging in your scalp with every tug.

“Aw, that’s sweet. She’s begging me to not hurt you,” Quaritch commented, eyes glued on Lo’ak’s face, studying his expression. “I wonder what other kinds of begging she can do,” he grinned, eyes dark and sinister.

“Fuck you!” Both Lo’ak and Spider yelled out, angry at the man’s comment. The words coming out of his mouth was disgusting. It may have been socially okay to speak about women like that back on Earth, but on Pandora, women were treated with respect and praised. Both boys held you dear to their hearts. Lo’ak and Spider were going to kill Quaritch when they got the chance for the way he talked about you.

Spider and you have always been close. Being the only teenage humans on Pandora was hard but you had each other to lean on. Over the years, he became extremely overprotective over you, especially when it regarded a certain blue skinned boy. He always viewed you as family. He’d do anything to ensure that you were safe if it was deemed necessary. You may not be his sister by blood but he sure as hell treated you as if you were. So, hearing Quaritch’s words, he wanted to rip the man’s head off his body and put it on a stick as a warning for whoever else dared to speak such obscenities about his sister.

Lo’ak and you have been together for nearly two years, being close friends for way longer than that. He loved you since the day he met you and always treated you the way you deserved to be treated, with gentleness and kindness and respect. Never had he ever thought such vile innuendos Quaritch had hinted at. The older man was disgusting for thinking such things about a seventeen year old girl, especially one that was already called for. In Na’vi culture, it was a disgrace for one to talk about any women that way, mated or not. Lo’ak was raised to respect the women in his clan and those he came into contact with. So, having Quaritch talk about you in a way that made you want to throw up and sparked intense anger within Lo’ak’s system, made him want to repeatedly stab the man in front of him and watch the life leave his eyes. No one was allowed to speak about you in such ways. Not if Lo’ak had anything to do with it.

“Don’t talk about her in that way,” Spider growled out, struggling in the grips of the two soldiers that held onto him. (It was impressive that the human boy needed two Avatar soldiers to hold him back. His strength was closely compared to a regular Na’vi’s.)

Quaritch let go of Lo’ak, allowing the original soldier who had him in his grip to return to his previous position. He quickly turned around to face the both of you, your stomach dropping at his gaze.

“What’s your name, sugar?” He asked, crouching down to your level. You wanted to throw up on the spot from the nickname. It made you sick.

“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Spider snapped, achieving in getting closer to you and in Quaritch’s eyesight.

Quaritch quickly glanced towards Spider, lips forming into a thin line.

Before Quaritch or any of the other soldiers could do anything, you answered his question robotically.

“(Y/N) Selfridge.”.

The man before you stilled. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time.

“You’re Parker’s kid?” He asked, eyes slightly wide in shock. He didn’t know that Parker had a special lady during his time on Pandora. The man never seemed to be the one that was interested in that kind of stuff. Too busy trying to get the rare metal from underneath the very ground he stood on.

“No,” you spat, disgust evident in your voice, “I’m his niece. He dragged his sister, my Mother, to this planet years before the Na’vi won the Great War. She died giving birth to me after the battle.”.

Your explanation struck something within Quaritch. Parker mentioned a sister in passing during their very few and limited conversations. He never thought that Parker would bring her along to Pandora nor did he ever think that he’d leave her on the foreign planet alone to give birth. But, yet, he did almost the same thing to Paz and his son, Miles.

“What about you boy?” Quaritch asked, nodding at the human boy next to you. There were very limited surnames that went through the Colonel’s head as he waited for the boy to speak, his being one of them.

“Spider…Socorro,” he replied, hesitancy laced in his voice.

Quaritch’s heart stopped, “Miles?”, he asked.

Spider pierced his lips, eyes darting across the older man’s face as he stared up at him, “No one calls me that anymore,” he responded.

Quaritch was shocked, to say the least. He’d thought that they’d send him on the next available ship back to Earth. Albeit him being only a couple of months old, he still thought that there’d be a possibility that his son would go back to his Fathers home planet.

“I thought they sent you back to Earth,” Quaritch commented, voice slightly shaking, void of all the cocky confidence he had prior.

“They can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit,” Spider spat, fists tightly balling up at his sides. Surely his ‘Father’ couldn’t be that stupid. He should’ve known that there was no way for Spider to go back to Earth, to a planet where he’d have no one. Pandora is and always will be Spider's home.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as seconds passed by. Meeting his long lost son seemed to throw him off, messing up his mojo. It was clearly evident on his face and in his body language. He seemed more tense and unsure of what he was doing.

The silence was broken by a voice erupting from behind you, “What should we do, boss?”.

As soon as the emotions from Spider’s confession of his surname came, they left just as quickly. Quaritch was back to the way he was before. “Tie ‘em up. Looks like we got ourselves some prisoners,” he responded, preparing himself to call in his position to Ardmore.

The rest of the soldiers exclaimed in agreement, slapping restraints onto the children they had captured and throwing them all into a circle near the shack.

The soldier that had you in their grip had harshly thrown you to the floor, causing you to groan out from the hard contact with the forest floor. They laughed at your reaction, taking a few steps back to talk with his fellow comrades.

Lo’ak had quickly scurried to your side, hissing at the soldier that threw you like you were a rag doll. His body was positioned in front of yours in a crouch, the tense muscles of his back being the only thing you saw before he abruptly turned around and brought you into his embrace, checking over every inch of your skin to see if there were any new cuts or scrapes he should be worried about.

You didn’t say anything as you tried your best to pull yourself closer into your boyfriend's body, the restraints on your wrists preventing you from wrapping your arms around his neck in comfort. Your brain was still trying its best to process the previous events that occurred.

Lo’ak could sense the tension in your body and how your brain was scrambling to pull itself together. So he brought you closer into his arms, bringing his tied wrists up and over your body before settling them against your back, pulling you into his chest and lap.

“It’s alright, paskalin,” he reassured, tucking your masked face into his neck, “I got you. I got you.”.

———

When Spider had nudged you and turned his head ever so slightly to you, eyes darting behind you where Lo’ak stood a few feet behind, you knew that Neytiri and Jake arrived. It was the slightest change in pitch of a call that drew your attention to the trees. Neytiri, you realized. Lo’ak had taken it upon himself to teach you all the callings and ululatings his Sa’nok had come up with, telling you which meant what. You supposed his late night lesson all those months ago came in handy at this moment.

Your head harshly jerked back from the soldier pulling at your hair, once again. He didn’t like it when you guys would interact with each other and decided that pulling at your hair and Kiri’s queue was the best option to teach you to not speak to the others.

Fucking dick, you thought to yourself, restraining yourself from turning around in the soldiers grip and sinking your dull teeth into the flesh of his arm. See how he’ll like it.

A low growl was heard from behind you, Lo’ak glaring at the man who yanked at your hair. He was beginning to itch to choke out the man who had your beautiful and soft hair in his hold. It made him angry that someone like him was touching you in a way that brought you pain. Made him want to bring you into arms and hold you like a prrnen. He wanted to kill anyone and anything that caused you harm.

The distinct yip echoed throughout the forest yet again, your eyes darting to where the Na’vi woman could possibly be. Neytiri may have not liked you and you may have a very strained relationship but you were overjoyed in the moment that she and Jake were here to save the lot of you. You found yourself thanking your lucky stars and the Great Mother for the fierce couple.

From Spiders left, you could hear Kiri begin to pray aloud to Eywa, muttering her words only loud enough for the soldier and the boy beside you to hear. In retaliation to Kiri’s mumbles, the soldier began tugging at her sensitive queue, causing you and Spider to follow with the harsh tugs as he also held both of your hair in his grip.

“Shut up!” He harshly whispered, getting annoyed with the girl's constant rambling. The more Kiri prayed, the more he tugged and demanded her to shut her mouth. Eventually, his command was cut off with a sharp thwick and an arrow lodged into his skull.

Chaos erupted from around you as the man behind you dropped to the forest floor dead. Guns began to go off, forcing you to duck as Spider grabbed both you and Kiri and pushed forward. You ran behind Spider as he followed after Kiri, restrained hands on the lower part of her back to keep her moving forwards but she was pulled back by another soldier.

Spider stopped his movements, which caused you to run into his back, hands going out to grip his hips to steady yourself.

Everything was going too fast. You could barely process what happened to Kiri before she was by your side again, the soldier who grabbed her slumped over with an arrow in her chest. Gassy smoke was spraying everywhere as RDA soldiers ducked behind whatever they could to hide from the onslaught of arrows Neytiri was shooting at them from her advantage point. Before you knew it, Spider began to pull at your handcuffs, urging you to follow him and Kiri as they began to retreat into the thick foliage of the forest. Your brain barely had time to process it all before the three of you were hurriedly crossing over a connecting branch to another tree.

You felt it before you heard it. The hot air and stinging of your skin as you went flying forward into Spider's back before the two of you ultimately fell and tumbled down the hill underneath the overpass that was just blown up from whatever weapon a soldier shot at it. Pain was all you felt as you rolled down the hill, harshly making contact with all the sticks and rocks along the path. It hurt. Everything hurt.

You must’ve slammed your head up against a rock or the ground because the next thing you knew, it all went black.

———

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he ran and jumped over everything in his path, Tuktirey hot on his trail as she followed her older brother.

It all went by too quickly for him to properly digest what just happened. The only thing on his mind was you. He just hoped that Spider and Kiri were already somewhere safe with you in tow. Should’ve grabbed her when I had the chance, fuck.

Lo’ak came up to an opening, not planning on stopping until two blue bodies popped out of nowhere, causing Tuk to let out a scream and him to jump out of the way. But as quickly as his fear settled into his stomach, it went away just as fast.

“Daddy!” Tuk cried out, running into her Sempul’s arms, whole body shaking from the shock and adrenaline coursing through her tiny body.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam breathed out, bringing him into a hug, thanking the Great Mother for safely bringing back his younger siblings to him. Lo’ak leaned into the hug the best he could, hands still tied and whole body on alert for you.

“Tuk!” Neytiri called out, both her and Kiri emerging from behind some bushes, taking her youngest into her arms as she kneeled down to the forest floor, “Thank you Great Mother! Oh, thank you!”.

Jake had brought his second son into a hug after cutting his restraints off his wrists. But, as Lo’ak began to count the bodies around him, his heart sunk into his stomach. Spider nor you were in sight. Which only meant one thing.

“Where’s (Y/N)? Spider?” He shakingly asked, already knowing the answer.

Kiri looked up to her brother with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “They took him. They took them both!” She sobbed, head shaking at the fact. If only she had followed after you both. If only her Sa’nok didn’t pull her away.

Everything around Lo’ak began to crumble before him. The only thing he truly loved was taken from him, from right between his fingers.

As Jake tried to reassure his daughter that both you and Spider were going to be okay, that you both were tough kids, Lo’ak darted back into the forest, retracing his footsteps.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri called out, trying to get him to come back. She was about to follow after him but Neteyam beat her to it, quickly running after him.

Tears began to brim Lo’ak’s waterline as he pushed himself to go faster, not wanting to accept the fact that you were now in the enemy's hands. His mate was in Quaritch’s hands, in the clutches of the RDA. Who knows what they’d do to you and Spider once you get to their base. Please, Great Mother, please bring her back.

But as the sight of the helicopter came into view and began to ascend back up with their precious cargo, Lo’ak felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“No!” He cried out, “Bring her back!”.

He fell to his knees as the flying piece of metal got tinier and tinier in his line of sight, becoming a bot in the starry sky before disappearing completely.

You were gone. Gone without a trace. Lo’ak had no way of tracking which base they’d bring you to. He had no way of saving you as he knew his Father would never waste bullets or Na’vi lives over you and Spider. The only thing he could do was cry out to Eywa to bring you back or have Quaritch come back and take him with you. But his prayers fell on empty ears.

“Little brother,” Neteyam softly called out, finally catching up to the teen boy.

The eldest Sully knew of your relationship with his brother. He had gone to visit Spider in the lab one afternoon when he stumbled upon you and Lo’ak in quite the compromising position. The younger had to beg the older to not speak a word about what he saw, knowing that if he did, their Sa’nok would have both of your heads on a stick. Neteyam hadn’t uttered a word of it since then.

Neteyam tried his best to comfort his brother, but he knew that the only person that could comfort him was you. And you were gone. Lo’ak was going to be inconsolable until he got you back into his arms.

“She’s gone, Teyam,” Lo’ak whispered, fat tears running down his darkening cheeks, “She’s gone.”.

“I know, Lo’ak, I know,” Neteyam cooed, bringing his brother into his arms for some comfort, “I’m sorry.”.

The rest of the Sully family had met up with Neteyam and Lo’ak, hugging the boy. None of them knew of your relationship, keeping it a secret from everyone, minus Neteyam and Kiri. Neytiri and Jake thought he was distraught at losing two of his closest friends but they couldn’t be further from the truth.

That night, Lo’ak cried himself to sleep, wishing that you were in his arms and that he could bury his nose into your neck and inhale your calming, yet intoxicating, scent.

Eywa, why didn’t you bring her back?, he thought to himself as sleep began to consume him, Why didn’t you take me with her?.

#avatar #atwow imagines #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow x reader #avatar x reader #atwow #atwow x you #angst #lo’ak angst #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak sully x you #lo’ak sully x reader #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak sully x y/n #lo’ak x human!reader #lo’ak x human reader

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [19]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.9k

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

Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20

"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.

You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."

Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"

"It's done, my lord."

"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.

"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.

Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."

After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"

Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."

You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."

He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.

Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."

"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."

His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."

Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.

As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.

"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."

With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."

Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."

At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."

His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."

Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"

He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."

You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."

"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Say it for me just one more time."

"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."

Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.

Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"

But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.

As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.

These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."

As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.

He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"

Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."

The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.

You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."

"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"

"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."

"Says you?!"

With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.

Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."

Oh, I know you will.

"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.

"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.

"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.

He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.

Oh god, what do I do?

As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.

With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?

These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.

A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.

With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.

As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.

Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.

"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."

Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.

"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.

Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.

"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.

I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.

His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.

Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.

Something was not right.

Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.

"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"

A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.

The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.

"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."

Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."

The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.

Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.

Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.

Peace, at last.

But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.

"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."

As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.

I finally found you, my one.

« Preview of Part 20 »

"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.

Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.

Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.

"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.

San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.

"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."

Relief washed over the King's face.

"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.

San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."

"Oh, thank goodness it's over."

After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"

The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.

I'm sorry, my son.

Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈

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

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - part 3

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: oscars girlfriend attends her first grand prix and the public get to see just how proud she is of oscar

authors note: ive honestly missed writing for oscar and priv!reader so we are back in honor of oscars FIRST EVER WIN AND INCREDIBLE SPRINT RACE!! im genuinely so proud of oscar and im honestly in shock. i also follow ZERO wag pages so i have no clue what they are like, if people actually follow them etc.

authors note 2: short-ish and sweet for OSCARS FIRST WIN?? i started writing this about 30 minutes before the sprint race so i had no clue where this was going to go but HE WON!!

part 1 part 2 masterlist

f1wagupdates

liked by user5, user81, user9 and 7,289 others

yn entering the paddock for the first time today! she followed shortly after oscar, spoke to some oscar/mclaren fans and handed a few who were unable to meet oscar, on his way in, some signed things she had. we absolutely love her already!!

view comments

user81: omg she’s literally the sweetest thing😭

user17: I LOVE HER ALREADY

user61: the fact that oscar fans already love her🫶🫶

user9: oh she looks so cute!!

user72: i was one of the girls she gave something too! she said she had been following behind oscar and kept an eye on anyone who he missed to give them something after he left. she was very very shy, but she made sure to speak to everyone who oscar missed and was asking us questions about us, overall she was very sweet!!

user22: this makes me love her even more😭and congrats on the signed stuff!! do you mind me asking what it was?

user72: thank you! and of course, we all got something different! i got a signed polaroid of oscar (im still in disbelief?! and it must have been one she took herself bcs i couldnt find the photo online anywhere), someone a bit down from me got what looked like a drivers card and i saw someone else get a picture of his car!

user22: A POLAROID?? oh you won😭😭

user1: i wonder if we will see her again

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,619 others

first qualifying in the paddock was a rollercoaster of emotions, not the result we were hoping for, expected or wanted but its ok because oscars gonna smash it tomorrow and we’ll pretend today didnt happen!!

view comments

oscarpiastri: glad you had fun🤍

oscarpiastri: my goodluck charm wasnt goodlucking today

yourusername: dont say thattt☹️ill try and be extra lucky tomorrow promise!!

oscarpiastri: i love you

yourusername: i love you more🤭

user3: the photo difference😭

user14: loved seeing you in the garage today

yourfriend3: i love you but those photos😭😭

yourusername: stoooop i was so nervous all day😭

yourfriend7: wish oscar luck from all of us back home!

oscarpiastri: 👍👍

user81: u are so cute☹️

user2: so unfair how they told oscar during the interview!!

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,182 others

changed outfits but we are ready for the sprint!!

tagged oscarpiastri

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri: love you lots and lots, thank you for coming🧡

yourusername: I LOVE YOU!! and you dont have to thank me, ill always stay with you🤍🤍

f1

liked by yourusername, mitchevans_ and 817,175 others

PIASTRI STORMS TO SPRINT POLE IN QATAR!🤩🔥

He just keeps getting better and better!

view comments

mclaren: YESSSSSS!!!👏👏👏

user6: P1ASTRI

yourusername: INCREDIBLE🤩🤩

user18: more than deserved!

user73: absolute legend

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri and 6,289 others

user6: AHHHHHH

user81: LOOK AT HIM GO

oscarpiastri: ☺️☺️

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 10,278 others

oh how i obsessively adore you.. today you took your first f1 pole position, hours later you became a formula one race winner (idc if it was a sprint you still won!!)

i have been on this incredible journey with you long before your first f2 race. i was by your side at your first f2 win and im still by your side now youve won in f1

i know how much this win means to you, i know how much you wanted to prove yourself to everyone and you have. you never fail to amaze me, especially coming back after the shit show that was yesterday

you are truly incredible and you are so so special🐨

i love you so much, congratulations🧡

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

user61: WHAT IF I STARTED SOBBING

user11: THE KOALA😭😭

user72: so deserved🧡incredible drive!!

user68: the f2 race winner picture😭😭the f1 race winner picture😭😭THE SMILEY INTERVIEW PICTURE😭😭

oscarpiastri: my favorite goodluck charm🧡

oscarpiastri: thank you so much for sticking with me through it all

oscarpiastri: i appreciate you so much my love

yourusername: you are so special, lovely🩵

landonorris: usually i hate your sappy posts but ill make an exception this time..congrats mate!!

oscarpiastri: you too mate!

yourusername: knew id get you to love these posts eventually🤭

formula2: we’re so proud of our aussie🥹🐨

oscarpiastri and yourusername added to their stories

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 722,519 others

*text on first photo reads: my favourite thing is when i open my phone after a race and i see the photos yn sent me during the race🧡* *text on second photo reads: i love seeing my boy do what he loves*

oscar’s replies:

user52: shes so cute☹️

user12: tell me that was when you won the race and not before

user61: where can i find someone like her😭

yourusername: babyyy i didnt know youd share these😭😭

oscarpiastri: just had to show everyone how grateful i am for you🤍

user49: get yourself someone who supports you the way yn supports oscar!!

yn’s replies:

user17: oh i love you guys so much

yourfriend2: we are all so proud of oscar!!

oscarpiastri: i love you so much more than i can ever express

yourusername: osc☹️☹️ i hold so much love and adoration for you

oscarpiastri: wait when did you take this photo??

yourusername: i watched the final lap in the bathroom so i could sob in peace😭

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #private!yn!oscar

[porcelainseashore]

Us

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Authors' Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song. 

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?” 

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat. 

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,” Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug. 

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up. 

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.” 

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…” 

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.” 

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved. 

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-” 

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession. 

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again. 

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you. 

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #band au #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

[ronwestbreeze]

you're gonna go far | 9

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 6.3k warnings: mentions of suicide (not explicit!)

read on AO3

Tsu’tey remembered when he first came back from death.

It was like clawing out of the ground and feeling as though there was dirt filling his lungs. He remembered Arvok hugging him and crying into his shoulder when he found him awake. He remembered his father sitting nearby and quietly thanking the Great Mother for this second chance, for this mercy, even though they didn’t deserve it. He remembered his mother calling him a gift and that Eywa favored him, that he was the true and chosen Olo’eyktan to the People. Like he was some type of god that Eywa created herself.

He remembered feeling so horrible that his mother didn’t even see him as her son anymore. But a god of sorts. An idol to look to.

Someone so perfect that no one, not even a demon or the daughter of a “simple” Tsahik deserved his attention or praise.

The People celebrated once they learned that Tsu’tey had survived the battle, even when all the odds were against him. In a way, they looked to him as some sort of god too. Not to the extent that Artsut did but idolized him, nonetheless. Tsu’tey remembered feeling frozen as if he were turned to stone, hardened into an empty vessel.

He didn’t feel like himself. He just felt exhausted.

All. The. Time.

And no matter what he did, that exhaustion or feeling of wanting to sleep for a long, long time, never left him. He was just stuck in this state where he was both living but half buried in the ground.

It wasn’t until Tsu’tey confessed to what he was feeling to Jake who then put everything he felt into words that he could not—still couldn’t—quite understand.

“It’s a common thing we humans feel,” Jake explained once when it was just the two of them in the middle of the night.

Sitting in a tree, watching a lively celebration far below. That world seemed so far away at the time. And it was then that Tsu’tey felt like the god his mother praised him to be. Disconnected from the world that he so cherished but watched over them with a protective heart.

“That exhaustion, truthfully, that probably won’t ever go away. This depression can wear us down until all we want to do is sleep without worrying about waking up. Living doesn’t feel the same anymore. Almost like it’s a burden to both you and everyone around you. And then comes the exhaustion.”

Tsu’tey stared at Jake, both thoughtfully and to memorize every detail of the dreamwalker’s face. “Have you felt this?” It was the predictable question at the time. He seemed to know exactly what Tsu’tey felt, so much so, that it sounded as if he lived through—still went through this experience.

Humans were as peculiar as they were dangerous. They hid their feelings. They didn’t allow themselves the freedom to feel as if someone or something was holding them back. They were often birds trapped in a steel cage when the way out was right in front of their face.

That was a certain observation one would notice if they paid close attention. Tsu’tey paid Jake a lot of attention. Memorized his micro-expressions. Noted the way he hid behind an impenetrable wall with a single window he only allowed certain people to look through.

It’s what Tsu’tey imagined loving Jake would be like. Finding ways to climb over that wall to embrace that lonely soul on the other side.

Which was why he was keenly aware of the fact that Jake never answered his question. But instead said, “Many people don’t always have someone to keep them above the surface. That is why most end up drowning forever until they fall asleep. It’s okay to feel these things, even if they’re hard to acknowledge. And if you need to talk, I’m always here. I’m too human not to help you, even if you don’t approve of me.”

While Jake’s words were somewhat flowery and cautious in delivery, there was Neytiri, who grounded him with her very blunt words.

“You are not a god. You are Tsu’tey.”

She did not see him as a god. And he was grateful for that.

Perhaps that was why he so easily fell for her after the war. Or, rather accepted his feelings after forcing them back because of his guilt with Sylwanin.

You did not see him as a god.

And he was relieved by that.

Yet that relief would soon be buried beneath the horror of something else he saw whenever looking at you.

It was himself.

Half alive. And half buried in the ground.

And Tsu’tey had this strong urge to start digging at the ground with his bare fingers. Until his nails were filled with dirt. Until his clean skin was dirtied. Until they bled.

He owed you that much.

“That demon did this!” His mother, Artsut hissed while she knelt next to Arvok’s sleeping body in some form of protection. She stared up at him, pleading, desperate, and angry. “Will you let that creature run free like you did before? Look what that thing’s done! She’s hurt your blood! Be Olo’eyktan and exact punishment on the ones that hurt your family!”

“Reeds didn’t do this.” His mate, Jake protested calmly—as calmly as he could when it came to Artsut. His arms were wrapped around him so tightly his muscles twitched whenever he moved, tail lashing behind him as he continued. “Arvok had already explained what happened. The Tipani warriors were going for Hell’s Gate. Arvok had tried to stop them, they got pissed and injured him—”

“And who’s fault is that?!” Artsut snapped viciously, eerily resembling that of a palulukan. “If that demon hadn’t landed here none of this would be happening!” She turned her fiery gaze onto Tsu’tey, her pleading becoming more adamant as she spoke. “You must kill it! This is your doing, you never should’ve let it live! And now our clan is in danger because of that creature—”

Jake scoffed, his tail swinging now, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Artsut hissed at him, “You do not deserve to speak, demon! I should have connived my son to kill you the first day you came to us—”

“Enough!” Tsu’tey hissed as he stalked forward and grabbed his mother by the arm.

“Tsu’tey—” She tried protesting only to be interrupted by his hiss.

“Be quiet, mother.” He led her out of his shared hut and went outside.

Once they were further away from the entrance, he let her arm go.

“My son—”

“No, mother.” Tsu’tey didn’t want to hear any excuses or laments that would make him feel awful for putting her in her place. “I’ve warned you and you’ve gone too far many times now. You are my mother, I do not wish to remove you from my children’s lives—”

She gasped and grabbed his wrist, “Do not be so cruel to your mother! You would prevent me from seeing my own grandchildren?!”

“You do not even accept the one son that I have!” Tsu’tey snapped but stopped when her eyes widened. He did not wish to shout. He did not wish for any more division. But she wasn’t making it any easier on him. So he continued slowly, “Jakesully is my mate. Neytiri is my mate. I will not allow you to keep disrespecting them. They are a part of my life, they make me happy. Shouldn’t that be what you wish for your own son? Do you not want me to be happy?”

Artsut scoffed in disbelief as if what he was saying were unbelievable, “Of course, I do. I wish for nothing but eternal happiness for my one and only boy—”

“I am not your only child.” He said gently, his heart falling. “Your son nearly died—”

“I know this! Do you think I do not know?!” Her eyes became glassy, her grip on his wrist tightening. “But know this, son. I do want your happiness. That is what any mother wants for her children.”

Tsu’tey watched her with a frown. He wished, he really wished he could believe her. Maybe a part of him did—wanted to. But he couldn’t help this unease in him whenever she was around him and his mates. He’d always feel her disapproval. No matter what flowery words she’d say, she would not change her opinion of Neytiri, Jake, Neteyam, and even their unborn little one.

But today he would not push any further. Today he was simply too tired.

“You should return to your home.” He told her and pulled his wrist free from her grasp. “Arvok will stay with us tonight—”

“Tsu’tey—”

“It is closer to the Tsahik’s where she can come and go freely to check on him.” He turned his back to her as the next words spilled out of his mouth like blood. “I do not want you near during that time. Or for a while. Not until I say you can come.”

There was a beat. And then there was sniffling. Tsu’tey refused to look at her. “You are abandoning your mother! You would do this to your own mother, who carried you for so long—” Tsu’tey ignored her words and ignored the pang in his chest as he forced himself to walk away. “It is that demon that has done this to us! They keep destroying everything we hold dear! If you will not kill it then I will—”

At that, Tsu’tey whirled around and stalked toward her as he spoke warningly, “You should be thanking Eywa that your son isn’t dead! You should be thanking our Great Mother that the demon had brought Arvok back instead of leaving him for dead! You should be thanking her that the arrow did not hit him but the demon instead! And yet here you are, plotting to kill Eywa’s favored!”

At this, Artsut scoffed, “Eywa would not favor a stain on her beautiful creation—”

“As Olo’eyktan I order you to stay away from the de…” He winced, not wanting to sound as venomous as his mother did. “—from the dreamwalker. I will carry out the will of Eywa as I intend to do. As this clan is intended to do. And because of that, she is under my protection now. She has saved my brother—your son.  She has earned this right. You will leave her alone.”

“And what if I don’t?!” Artsut shouted as Tsu’tey turned his back away from her and began stalking back to his hut. “Will you punish your own mother?! Will you kill me?! Tsu’tey? Tsu’tey, answer me! Do not turn your back on me! Tsu’tey—”

Her cries continued to ring in his ears, making him tremble.

He did not feel like a god.

He just felt like a failure.

Failure of a son.

Failure of a mate.

Failure of a leader.

He did not return to his hut.

You were lost. That was fine.

To be honest, you weren’t even focusing enough to go where you wanted. Frankly, you weren’t even sure how to get to your mother’s burial from here. All you did was wander around until you were far enough from the clan, until all you were surrounded by was forest until your legs gave out to the point where you couldn’t walk anymore.

There was a large leaf nearby, big enough for you to duck under it and sink to the ground as it covered your head from the rain. There was still a bit of daylight out, so you had more than enough time to stay there. Because getting back up was going to be difficult.

And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to keep going.

Your mother’s songcord was dangling from your hands now as silent tears spilled down your cheeks. You cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. Until you were hallowed. Until you weren’t sure if there was anything left of you at this point.

God, you hadn’t cried in so long.

You were dead. Your real body was dead. That wasn’t even your choice either. You had been poisoned, you died, and now you were in a new body.

None of it had been your choice. You didn’t want this. If you had the choice—if it were really up to you—you would’ve let the poison kill you. Anything was better than living in this hell where everything just seemed to be against you.

No matter what you did to make your situation better, something always came along and tackled you back to the ground, pushing you further and further until you began sinking again.

Death could’ve ended all of that.

But even that choice was taken out of your hands.

You could’ve done it now.

You could’ve gone back to Hell’s Gate, grabbed your knife, and…

And—and—and—

For a moment, your mind was quiet as you stared at your mother’s songcord. As you stared at the bone that ended the string.

You were a coward.

Something rustled a few feet away from you. Your body froze and considered the sounds around you. The rustling continued, drawing a little too close for your comfort.

With that, you ducked from under the leaf and moved away from the sounds.

Because even if you somewhat wanted to die, you sure as hell knew it wouldn’t be at the hands of a palulukan.

No. You were just a coward.

Dying took bravery. And you didn’t feel too brave at the moment.

All you could do was stagger forward until you found something to latch onto. To take you away from this until you felt brave enough.

Until then, you kept wandering through the forest. Letting rain pour onto your already wet and somewhat matted hair.

You tugged at one of the locks and hummed to yourself. You should do your hair.

At that, you kept going until eventually you found a waterfall. By then the rain had finally let up, the air was cool, and the smell of rain stayed with you despite the downpour disappearing.

It would’ve been calming if you allowed it to be.

The area itself was beautiful even in this dreary weather. You found a rock just a few feet away from the mainland and jumped onto it. Sitting down with your legs crossed, you leaned over the edge a bit, staring back at your reflection in the water.

Well, you supposed you looked as horrible as you felt. Your hair was one of the main things contributing to that. The braid that Neytiri made was still intact but the rest of your hair was just a wild mess. It was beginning to mat together and form dreads.

So, not particularly happy with the look and wanting a good enough reason to distract your hands and mind, you began doing your hair.

Diving into the waters wasn’t a good idea considering your healing injuries. Instead, you ducked your head into the waters. It was nice. Feeling the cool water against your skin, waking you up slightly. You would’ve stayed like this for a while and you did, considering you could hold your breath for a while.

The tension in your muscles relaxed and right when you were feeling yourself being pulled to sleep, something yanked on your queue, bringing your head out of the water and causing you to fall onto your back.

“Ow!”

“Skxawng!” You looked up only to regret it when you found Tsu’tey scowling down at you.  “What do you think you are doing?!”

You rolled your eyes and tugged your queue out of his grasp, “Obviously I came to drown myself. Congrats, you just saved the inconvenience.” Tsu’tey frowned, looking incredibly serious. You looked up at him and sighed, “I’m kidding. Do you guys not make depressing jokes now and then? Or is that only a human thing?”

He didn’t respond and you weren’t exactly waiting for one. Instead, you turned away from him and began parting your hair. You didn’t have a comb so running your hands through your thick curls was the best you could do for now. The best you could do at this point was take two strands and begin twisting them.

Tsu’tey appeared next to you, looming and watching you do your hair with a huff, “You’re doing that wrong.”

You glared, “I know how to do my own hair thank you.”

He didn’t move and you ignored him as you kept going with your hair. That was until you felt longer fingers wrap around yours and remove it from your hair.

“Hey—”

You felt his hands in your hair. Instantly, you went to yank yourself away from him only to stop when you felt his fingers move. It wasn’t rough or harsh, it was actually rather careful and precise. Any other day you would’ve shoved him away and told him to never touch your hair again but seeing as his braids were pretty neat and concise, you reconsidered.

Hell, maybe you’ve lost it. You were seriously letting Tsu’tey—the man who hated you the most—do your hair.

Maybe when you died you somehow went into a whole other universe. Yeah, that had to be it.

He was mumbling under his breath in Na’vi. You caught some words here and there like “humans” and “useless” a few times. But other than that his voice had been too quiet and quick for you to understand or at least translate some of the things he was saying.

Eventually, his hands disappeared from your hair. “There.” You watched as he stepped away from you to grab a bow from the ground, stretching his fingers, his face turned away from you so that you couldn’t see his expression.

You felt your hair to find some of it braided while the rest would’ve been left to mat together again. You tugged on it thoughtfully, perhaps you could let them turn into locs. It would be easier anyway. A lot more manageable considering you often forget to do your hair these days.

Next to you, Tsu’tey had also grabbed an arrow and approached the edge of the rock, pointing his bow down at a group of fish floating around the rock the both of you were on. You halfheartedly watched as the arrow flew into the water seconds later and hit one of the fish.

Absentmindedly you tugged on another braid as he went into the water to grab the arrow, “The Tsahik is looking for you.” He took the arrow from the water and yanked the fish off the tip. “She says you should not be up right now but resting. She is very upset at your disappearance.”

You didn’t respond. Tsu’tey looked back at you expectantly and you frowned, “So you came looking for me?”

A part of you was half-joking and half-annoyed when asking the question. You just wanted to be alone for a while. And dealing with Tsu’tey was the last thing you wanted right now.

“Yes,” Tsu’tey responded easily as he threw the dead fish to the spot next to you. You cringed away from it as he drew back another arrow. “And by the time I am done here, you will be coming with me to be checked by her.” You glared at the ground. A beat went by. “I will not take no for an answer. Your wounds are still healing—”

“Can we just, can we wait for a while?” You dropped your hands from your hair and into the waters. “I just—I need a place to breathe, okay? Back there, it’s just too suffocating. And I really don’t want to fight today. I’m too tired, so please…”

You didn’t look at him. But you did hear the arrow release and hit the water. Another beat went by. The waters slushed as he moved, “So you came here. For peace.”

It wasn’t a question but more of a statement like he understood it.

And reluctantly, you nodded in response.

For a while, you were quiet. Both of you. Tsu’tey grabbed the arrow and tossed the fish onto the rock. The water filled the silence, bringing you a sense of comfort in this long silence. You didn’t feel obligated to speak and Tsu’tey didn’t bother to conversate either. A big difference between him and Jake who would probably be talking your ear off with stupid jokes and infuriating jabs.

Not that it wouldn’t help a bit.

But right now, all you felt was exhaustion. Even Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear somewhat tired, at least from what you saw whenever his face was turned in your direction.

 “I thank you.”

You looked at him then, his back was still turned to you as he continued, “For saving my brother. Arvok. The arrow, he could have died if you hadn’t taken it for him. You—”

“Anyone would’ve done it.” You shrugged off, not wanting this type of attention. Especially not from him. What you did may have been somewhat heroic but you sure as hell didn’t feel that way. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I will.” Tsu’tey drew his arrow back again. The arrow flew again and hit another fish. “Even when I treated you horribly. You still saved him.”

You frowned and shook your head. His thanks for some reason made you feel worse. You didn’t know why but you wanted it to stop. “Like I said, anyone would’ve done it if they were in my position.”

“Hmph.” Tsu’tey tossed the third fish onto the rock and jumped back onto the rock with you. He grabbed the three fishes by the tail and nodded toward the forest, “Come, we should head back—”

“No.”

You heard him sigh, “Dreamwalker—”

“I can’t go back right now.” You blurted out, your hands clenching into fists as you glared down at your reflection. “I just can’t, okay? I can’t go back and face the pitiful looks Norm will send me. I can’t go back to Neytiri telling me that Eywa saved me or gave some fucking second chance that I had no say in. I can’t go back to hear Jake apologize over and over and over again until I go fucking crazy! I just can’t!”

You buried your face into your hands, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to face the world. All you felt, all you wanted to do was just crawl into a hole and hope that everyone left you alone. You hoped that you could lie down and become stone. You hoped you could become the tragedy that was amid the beautiful Pandora.

You hoped—You hoped—You hoped—

Something within your body told you that you were crying but no tears came.

Half alive and half buried.

Until they bled.

Something heavy landed on top of your head. It took you a moment for you to realize it was a hand—Tsu’tey’s hand. You dropped your hands from your face and frowned, reluctantly looking up at him to find him staring back at you.

God, these people were straightforward when it came to expressing themselves. Even Tsu’tey, who you considered the hardest to read out of the three.

“It is sad.” Tsu’tey squatted down next to you, his hand gently ruffling your hair. Your ears twitched, “I am sorry.”

You were taken aback, to say the least. Never in a million years could you imagine Tsu’tey out of all people, comforting you. Frankly, you never thought he felt anything toward you to enact such a strange reaction from him. And yet you didn’t move. Too afraid that if you flinched then he would take his hand away.

A part of you felt awful that he had to do this. And a part of you…

“You don’t have to do this.” You mumbled.

He huffed, “I do what I want. And I choose to be here. You saved my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to comfort me.” This unyielding guilt was overwhelming, You almost wanted to shove his hand away. “I feel like I’m using you.”

“Then use me.”

You shook your head again, his hand remained firm, “You’re impossible—as usual.”

“Hmph.”

The both of you stayed like this for a while longer. It was getting dark. Creatures would start coming out soon. Perhaps you should stop being so stubborn and move already.

Tsu’tey didn’t say anything though. He was rather still and quiet. You looked over, for a moment wondering if he was asleep.

Only you found his yellow gaze staring at something intensely. Frowning, you followed his gaze.

Floating toward the both of you was an atokirina. Huh, you hadn’t seen one of these in a while. And even now they were still as pretty as you remembered them. Last time there were multiple, but this time it was one.

You stood and Tsu’tey followed seconds after.

Even for this, you remained still. As if moving would somehow scare it off. Tsu’tey must’ve had the same thought, standing as still as a statue next to you as the atokirina floated over your heads. The pure creature hovered over Tsu’tey’s forehead for a bit until it came over to you, tickling your nose.

Tsu’tey watched you and the atokirina in astonishment. It floated between the two of you for a moment before finally floating away.

You watched it in for a moment longer before your arm began to throb. Tsu’tey noticed you rolling your arm back uncomfortably and finally snapped out of his trance, “Is your arm bothering you?”

“A little.�� You admitted reluctantly.

With a nod, he grabbed the fish and then the bow as he gestured toward the forest, “Come. We should return now. Mo’at is waiting.”

This time you did not protest. You glanced back toward the direction the atokirina disappeared before finally following after Tsu’tey.

When you got to Mo’at’s hut, she was already scowling at you. And surprisingly it was rather scary. So much so, that you unconsciously shrunk behind Tsu’tey so you wouldn’t feel any of her wrath. Jake and Neytiri were there as well, for what you did not know, but they appeared to have been waiting for yours and Tsu’tey’s return.

“Well, now we know you are well enough to foolishly run off.” Mo’at huffed as she pointed toward the spot on the floor. “Sit.”

Without waiting for you to respond, Mo’at dragged you to the spot and sat you down on the floor. Tsu’tey remained near the entrance and watched you silently. He hadn’t said anything ever since you started your walk back to their base. You wondered if he was at all bothered about seeing the atokirina. Or if it was on his mind at all.

While Mo’at wiped the dried mush from your arm, Neytiri squatted down next to you, “How are you feeling?”

“I died.” You said dryly. “Other than that, I’m swell.”

Jake sighed from his spot closest to Tsu’tey and the entrance, “Well, her snark’s intact. You sure she’s not back to normal?” You rolled your eyes, Neytiri rubbed your back while glaring at Jake.

“We saw an atokirina,” Tsu’tey spoke for the first time since you left the waterfall. “It came to the demon and I…” He said the rest of his explanation in Na’vi. You frowned, looking at Jake and Neytiri to gauge what exactly he was saying. You watched Neytiri’s ears twitch as her eyes brightened. Then there was Jake who looked completely serious, tail swinging behind him. Mo’at gave nothing away as she added more mush to your arm. You held back a scoff, irritated that you were the only one who couldn’t understand a single word.

“Another sign from Eywa,” Mo’at spoke in English. She looked at you almost knowingly as she continued. “This dreamwalker is here for a reason. Maybe for the same reason, Jakesully had come to us. Or something completely different. Perhaps this is her way of choosing a fourth for you.”

Neytiri perked up instantly, her hand squeezing your good shoulder gently. Jake’s head was bowed, hiding his expression. And Tsu’tey just frowned. And you felt your entire face grow hot. Suddenly you were rather aware of everything around you. If you had been standing, you would’ve fainted.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” You offered, trying to move the conversation forward instead of enduring this awkward and uncomfortable silence.

Mo’at watched all four of your expressions and huffed, “Come. We will just ask the Great Mother ourselves—”

“No, we don’t have to.” Jake stood straighter, tail lashing behind him.

Neytiri stood and sent him a look, “Ma’ Jake—”

But he shook his head, “I’m not doing it. I’m not taking her as a mate. That’s not fair and you know it—”

“And if it is in Eywa’s will?” Mo’at challenged, raising an invisible brow. “What then, Jakesully?”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You added, already growing irritated by this conversation.

“Yeah, you’re right. You do have a say in this. But I’m gonna make this easy for you.” Jake nodded steely. “We’re fine as three. There is no room for another—especially her.”

“Fuck you!” You snapped, shooting to your feet. “Who the hell do you think you are—”

“Hey, I’m on your side here!” Jake argued. You failed to see the surprised reaction from your outburst, you failed to see the way he raised his hand as if easing you like you were a dangerous animal about to pounce—no you saw that actually. And it only pissed you off even more. “Do you want me to lie and welcome you into my family with open arms just like that? Or do you want the honest truth, Reeds? You value that, right?”

You let out a humorless laugh, skin boiling in anger now, “You really are full of shit, you know that, Sully? So you think it’s okay to just discard me then? As if I don’t have any fucking feelings? Am I just an emotionless body to you, Jake? Am I not supposed to be offended? ‘Especially her’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“That’s enough—” Neytiri started only to be stopped by Mo’at who watched the two of you keenly. Even Tsu’tey didn’t even speak up. He didn’t snap at you nor did he stop Jake. He just watched on in grim silence that neither you nor Jake bothered to notice.

“I’m doing this for you—I’m not sayin’ this just to be an asshole, Reeds!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You snickered mockingly. Honestly, you had no idea why you were so angry. You were just tired. Tired of him. Tired of this. Tired of all this bullshit. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Sully, you’re not exactly prize material either, so there. Why don’t you just say that instead of hiding it behind some horse shit—”

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered in disbelief. Jake looked to the sky, struggling to respond. Struggling to string the words together.

But it shouldn’t have been that hard. “You’re right, I do value truth, Sully. So be fucking honest and just spit it out. Enough of the trying to protect me bullshit—I’ve heard enough of it and I don’t need any more of it. Say what you want, do hide now. It’s easy when it comes to me, right?”

You were just angry. So, so angry. You weren’t even sure if this anger deserved to be directed at him. If this anger was even about this conversation. You weren’t even sure why you were fighting so fiercely.

Jake scoffed, “And you think you make being around you easy? You don’t think maybe there’s a reason I blow up at you? You don’t think maybe it’s because you can be a huge asshole sometimes?”

“Oh yeah, this mate shit is going to work out perfectly.” You snorted.

“I can’t mate with someone I don’t love,” Jake spoke more bluntly toward Mo’at, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey. “I don’t know how much more honest I have to be about this. I can’t love someone like her. How can I? Not even a fucking miracle could ever get me to, and that’s the truth. You happy now? Is that what you want to hear?”

The tent was silent by then. Neytiri, in the former of your eye, had her tail lashing behind her. Tsu’tey, who stood further back behind Jake held an unreadable expression instead of his usual severity but offered nothing. Mo’at just waited with her keen eyes on all four of you. She then sighed and shook her head, mumbling something in Na’vi.

You wished you weren’t so affected by his words. “Fine. Don’t love me, Jake.” You wished your heart didn’t sink to the pits of your stomach. You wished your heart wouldn’t take this much hut. You didn’t even want him. You didn’t even want a mate.

But you were knowable. Unlovable.

You’ve always known this. So it shouldn’t have hurt so much for someone to tell you this straight to your face.

“Earn that shit.” You muttered, schooling your face into your usual impassive mask despite your achy eyes. Now you looked to Mo’at who was watching you in particular, “Is that all, Tsahik?”

You failed to see Jake’s shoulders fall and his ears lower, “Reeds—”

Mo’at spoke over him, “I want you back here in two days. Your wound is not fully healed yet.” She then looked at Tsu’tey, her eyes seeming to want something from him, “Is there a problem with that, Olo’eyktan?”

At this, Tsu’tey shook his head stiffly, “No. You are Tsahik. You must continue your work.”

“Mmph.” Mo’at huffed in what appeared to be disappointment. “Then you may leave, dreamwalker.”

You nodded and stalked toward the entrance. Neytiri tried reaching for you but you had been to quick for her grasp to catch, “Ma ‘tanhi…”

Jake avoided your gaze as you passed him, “I’ll see you later, Neytiri.” You stepped out of the hut, not bothering to look back.

After jumping down a few branches and landing on the ground, you found that two warriors were waiting for you on pa’li. One of the warriors guided a pa’li toward you, which you got on without much difficulty.

And without looking back, the pa’li began to move. You were cold. And tired.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

“I will make sure my warriors return her safely to the human base,” Tsu’tey spoke stiffly as he ducked out of the hut. Jake watched him go, uneasy about what his mate could’ve been thinking at the moment. It was the most difficult when Tsu’tey was like this. He was hard to read and wouldn’t let up until he confessed to what he was feeling. So, all Jake had to do was wait until then.

But right now, he did know one thing.

Fuck.

He’d gone too far.

Neytiri had watched you go just a few feet from the entrance of the hut and by the time you were long gone she stalked back inside. Jake flinched when her glare stabbed him through his thin skin when it came to her fury, “Why did you do that? Why were you so cruel? Why are you trying to push her away?”

His ears flattened again, “Tiyawn—”

“No!” She shook her head and backed away from his reach. “You humans and hiding your true feelings. I know you, Jake. I know what you said wasn’t true and yet you chose to hurt her anyway. Why? Why do this?”

Jake frowned, his body tensing, “How do you know this isn’t how I feel—”

“Baah!” Neytiri hissed, smacking his shoulder. “Even if what you said was true, you did not need to be cruel! You do not need to hurt her! Do you even care?!”

“Of course I do!” Jake argued. He wasn’t heartless. Of course, he saw how his words affected—continued to affect you.

God, why did you always react that way when it was him? Why did his heart always feel heavy whenever it came to yelling at you these days? You weren’t like this with Tsu’tey, you always fired back. Why was it different with him? “What I said was true. I am doing this for her! I’m trying to protect her—”

“From what?” Neytiri hissed as if the words he was saying were false. “No more excuses, Ma’ Jake, what is it that you are so afraid of?!”

How did she do it? How did she fiercely protect you like this without a care in the world? How did she fiercely care about you without being frightened of the consequences? “You weren’t there when Artsut threatened her life.” At this Neytiri faltered, her ears lowering slightly but Jake continued before she could interrupt her again, “She’s already being pulled into this mess with the clans. What happens if Artsut, a woman with great influence within this clan, comes for her? What happens when we take another human mate that she doesn’t approve of? What then? It’ll be our fault that Reeds becomes ruined. It’ll be our fault for not being careful—”

“That is not for us to decide,” Neytiri told him bluntly but her face softened—only a bit. “Your heart comes from a good place but your words are misguided.” She gingerly grew closer to him until her hand could reach the curve of his cheek as she gently caressed it. “Make this right. Enough of this fighting. Can’t you see she’s tired?”

Mo’at, who had been crushing some herbs in a bowl, did not refute her daughter’s wise words.

Jake was outnumbered. But he was also tired too.

You came back to Hell’s Gate to find a white sheet over your former body, right in the middle of a nearly empty room.

Cry. Just cry. Cry.

Instead, you stayed in that silent room. You did not look away from the body.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

All you needed was a tombstone.

boom! chapter 9! this one chapter i was definitely nervous to write because we see jake and reeds at, in my opinion, their worst in their slowly developing relationship and a peek at the beginning of tsu'tey and reeds' future relationship.

hope you enjoyed it! chapter 10 should be coming soon!

(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

#[you’re gonna go far] #jake sully x reader #jake sully #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake #avatar jake sully #avatar the way of water #neytiri avatar #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x reader #neytiri x jake #neytiri sully #neytiri fanfiction #jeytiri #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagine #jake sully x tsu'tey #tsu'tey avatar #tsu’tey x reader #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey x y/n #dilf!jake sully x reader #dilf!jake sully #atwow #norm spellman #avatar 2009

[storiesfromafan]

Dance Class 101

A/N: I come baring more fruits of my labor haha. Or rather this was a silly story I started a new nights ago after 11pm. It just spiraled from there.

Might do a part two. See what happens.

Also, forgive some of the informal wording. I blame being Australian lol.

Pairing: Mattheo x Slytherin Fem!Reader (more pining?)

They say school is meant to be a fun experience, learning new and usually useful things. And in any other House in Hogwarts, that would be the case. Unfortunately, for Slytherin fun was not a word Professor Snape knew, or rather despised, squashing all light in any room he was in. Currently in The Great Hall, during the Slytherin’s scheduled time for dance practise for the upcoming Yule Ball.

All attending students in Hogwarts were expected to participate in dance classes. So here you were, with your group of misfits. As your house all took seats around Professor Snape, who looked to be out of his comfort zone, you couldn’t miss those around you whispering to each other. Which was shortly lived when Snape ordered silence. Of course, everyone shut their mouths and sat up straight.

“Firstly, I detest that I have to teach you all to dance” Snape began, his voice sharp with authority. “But you all need to have some sort of formal etiquette for a ball. So, I am…forced to instruct you”. Ah, how that must have hurt to say.

There were sniggers and giggles at Snape’s words, which he called for silence again and got it quick smart.

“Secondly, I will remind each and every one of you that you will be representing Slytherin at The Yule Ball. So, I do not wish to hear of any of you acting in any way to lower our House” Snape stood proudly and rolled his sharp gaze over every student. “You are Slytherin. We are a proud house, do not sully it”.

Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo; whom were all sitting before you, started to snicker. Which you stopped with a slap to each of the back of their heads, just like any mother. Mattheo turned back with a glare, to which you smiled at before gesturing for him to turn back around and focusing on Snape.

Back to the lesson at hand; dancing 101. The girls rather giddy, the boys wanting to run from the room. Snape uncomfortable. And the female Professor being his dance partner wishing she had done something better with her career. All in all, this was to be some kind of afternoon. Starting off with two Professor’s stiffly demonstrating The Waltz. How the student population bearing witness to the scene before them kept themselves in check was a mystery. Alright, not entirely a mystery but more not wanting to cop Snape’s wrath for laughing. Plain and simple.

Finally, it came time for the observers to move to practical. Reluctantly all students rose from their seats, shuffling about and pairing up awkwardly. You stood looking around the room trying to pick out a dance partner. You didn’t want anyone who was handsy or flirty, nor did you want someone who has two left feet.

“Looking for me?” asked an all too familiar cocky voice behind you.

Turning around you found Mattheo standing there confidently. Oh, you will enjoy knocking him down a peg.

“Oh no” you replied off handedly, “I’m looking for a less pompous ass to dance with”.

He shot you a glare.

“Then you must be looking for me?” Questioned Theodore stepping up and slapping Mattheo on the shoulder. “Sorry mate”.

You looked to Theodore with a blank look. “Sorry, nor am I looking for his partner in pompousness either”.

Mattheo laughed shoving Theodore. “Tough luck, mate”.

Theodore shot his friend a dark look. “Hey, at least I didn’t get rejected first”.

That sobered Mattheo, and both boys glared at the other before turning back to you.

Thankfully that was the moment Lorenzo stepped in and swept you away. “Sorry lads, she was waiting for me”.

You laughed as Lorenzo twirled you both around. Alright, he won. “To be clear I wasn’t waiting for Lorenzo, but with that save, he has earned his place as my dance partner. Sorry”.

Lorenzo laughed as both Mattheo and Theodore shoved the other before shuffling off to find other partners. Which wouldn’t be hard. Every girl in this school would give their soul to get close to Mattheo, he was the Slytherin heart throb after all. And Theodore had his own club of fans too. So, they would be fine.

But a part of you regretted rejecting Mattheo. Blame the two-year crush on the curly mop head, who had just partnered up with Daphne Greengrass. The way she smiled at him as she placed her hand on his shoulder while he stepped closer, it made you sick to your stomach. Not to mention your blood boiling when she laughed at something Mattheo said.

“What are you growling at?” Questioned Lorenzo, before turning you both to see what held your attention. “Ah, I see”.

“Ah, I see? You see nothing” you retorted defiantly, turning away from the nauseating and infuriating scene.

Lorenzo shot you a knowing look. “Please (Y/N/N), I’m not stupid. I’ve known about your affections probably before you even came to terms with them” he chuckled, while you pouted.

“I repeat, you see nothing. End of story”.

Lorenzo spun you around, making you see the pair across from you both, before turning you away again. “It’s alright, I am not offended I’m not the eye of your desire” he poked your side. “But Theodore owes me a butterbeer”.

You swatted Lorenzo’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare say a word! Ah, of nothing that isn’t true” you sputtered, attempting to deny your crush.

Lorenzo brought you close. “Your secret is safe with me (Y/N/N). Mum’s the word”.

You one hundred and ten percent believed Lorenzo. Out of the three, he was more the voice of reason. While Mattheo and Theodore were Dumb and Dumber. But to be clear, you did not think them dumb, far from it for they could be evil geniuses if they applied themselves. They were goof balls that didn’t always read a person before opening their mouths.

Once everyone was paired up, Snape called for attention once more. Taking the proper stance with the female Professor, Snape instructed all students to do the same. Lorenzo stood comically tall, with a snooty look on his face while holding out his left hand out to you. Following his lead, you mirrored his stance and look, before dramatically placing your right hand in his. He then placed his right hand on your waist, pulling you closer forcefully. You couldn’t help it; a snigger came from your lips as you placed your left hand on his shoulder. Yes, Lorenzo was the smart choice. Laughter was the best way to forget about Mattheo and Daphne.

While you were having fun in Snape’s dreary presence, Mattheo was watching every moment just now. A wave of jealousy washing over him as Lorenzo pulled you close and received a snigger. Sure, he could see you were both goofing off. But he hated it wasn’t him you were having fun with.

Mattheo acted aloof, and teased you, but it was to hide the feelings the boy had for you. Out of all the girls in the school, you were the first one to become his friend. Never flirting or going shy. Being your unapologetic self through and through.

The friendship he had with you was what made it hard to have feelings for you. Your friendship was something he treasured, and he didn’t want to ruin it. For if he lost you, Mattheo would be devastated. But he also disliked seeing his two mates’ taking your attention away from him and having fun without him.

“Hey, Snape’s talking” Daphne whispered, drawing Mattheo’s attention from you and Lorenzo.

Snape proceeded to instruct and show you all the basic steps for The Waltz.

“Male’s lead. Starting with your left foot, you are going to step forward” Snape began. “Females follow. Starting with your right foot, you are going to step back”.

All students followed Snape’s instruction. This is where many partners learned that the person, they paired up with couldn’t tell left from right, forward and backwards. Which lead to some soft laughter and angry comments.

You and Lorenzo didn’t need to worry. Both of you were coordinated. Comically, but smooth, you did as instructed. As well was Mattheo and Daphne.

“Next” Snape commanded, silence fell once more. “Males, bring you right foot forward and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right. Females, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close with right foot next to your left”. Snape of course demonstrated this movement for everyone.

Once again, coordination was a flower that didn’t grow in many gardens. While you and Lorenzo were flawless. Along with Mattheo and Daphne. Finally, everyone was at the same step.

“Male’s, step back with your right foot. Females, step forward with your left foot” Snape instructed doing as he said. “Males, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close your right foot next to your left. Females, step forward with your right foot and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right”.

Once more everyone followed the instruction and demonstration. Happy to report, this time there were more coordinated students. You followed Lorenzo’s lead, and once more you were both flawless in your movements, prompting you both to smile at the other. Mattheo and Daphne not far behind you both, just as flawless.

Snape pulled away from the female Professor, like he was slightly burned by a flame. “That is the basic steps for The Waltz. I will now give you time to practice the steps together before music is introduced, and we work on timing to tempo”.

Both you and Lorenzo chuckled at Snape, before getting back to the task at hand. Taking position, you both did the step’s Snape had instructed. Once the first square was done, you both continued. Eventually feeling comfortable with the steps, the snooty comical sides came back. Dramatically doing the steps. And soon you had a small audience of the students around you. They laughed and softly cheered. With the final steps to close off the square, Lorenzo spun you out and you both theatrically bowed and curtsied.

“(Y/L/N) and Berkshire!” Called Snape. “Knock off the nonsense”.

You both quickly moved back into position and went back to dancing properly. Neither wanting to face the wrath of Snape. But flashing each other a smile, you enjoyed the silliness.

“Real smooth, getting on Snape’s radar” Theodore commented, moving closer to you both. “Best to stop the shenanigans”.

“Oh? Jealous Nott?” Lorenzo asked with a smirk.

Theodore laughed. “Far from it mate. I don’t want Snape on my case”.

He was right. No one ever wants to be on Snape’s bad side. So silently you and Lorenza agree to pull back on the silliness and take it all a bit more seriously. But it was so hard when this type of dance was boring, and so would the music.

After some time, Snape brought attention back to him, and proceeded to teach the next part. And let’s just say you thought many of the students lacked coordination before, it was ten times worse when music was introduced. Yet in yours and Lorenzo’s case, you both weren’t too bad. At first there was some miss timed steps and even stepping on his foot, but after the first square, you both got smoother and flowed nicely. Even getting praise from Snape.

Unfortunately for Mattheo, his partner took longer to grasp timing with music. And not to mention the amount of times Daphne stepped on his feet. Yes, she managed to step on both multiple times. Eventually she got better, but not quick enough before Snape called an end to dance class. Many students sighed and silently thanked who ever had been listening to their pleas.

Walking out of The Great Hall, you and the three boys headed for the nearby courtyard to relax after an eventful dance lesson. Lounging around under a tree you all recalled moments of the class, from the good, the bad and the tragic.

“I don’t know how that woman could have danced with Snape” mused Theodore. “He’s so wound tight”, he proceeded to sit up stiffly, making you all laugh.

“Bet she’s rethinking her career choice” mused Lorenzo, again making you all laugh.

“I gotta know, what was it like dancing with Daphne?” Questioned Theodore lighting a cigarette. “No doubt you made her day, as she has the biggest crush on you”.

You tensed at the question, and Lorenzo saw it. He gave you a soft look, showing his concern. But you just gave him a small, sad smile.

“It was alright, I guess” replied Mattheo, not noting your silent conversation with your friend. “She’s not that graceful, my feet are witnesses to that”. He laughed shaking his head. “But she wasn’t bad to be with”.

You all joined him in laughter, only yours not as strong as your companions. That last sentence he spoke hit you. Could Mattheo like Daphne? Surely not, she was lack-lustre compared to other girls.

“You going to ask her to The Yule Ball?” Lorenzo asked, side glancing you to gauge your reaction. He wasn’t doing it to hurt you, he wanted you to know if you should get your hopes up or not.

Mattheo snatched the cigarette from Theodore while thinking over the question. Did he want to ask Daphne to The Yule Ball? No. Did he want to ask you? Yes. But the two parts of him were at war. He wanted to ask you, take you because your company was all he needed. But then, the other part of him said you probably wouldn’t go with him, you’d want to go with someone else. Someone you fancied.

“Maybe…” Mattheo thought taking a drag of the cigarette. “See what happens”.

Theodore laughed. “Don’t wait too long to ask her, or any girl really”.

Now it was you who laughed. “Oh please Theo. Any girl who is asked by either of you would say yes. They would even dump their date to go with any of you”.

It was true. You knew from all the gossiping girls; they have all said it at some point. They would dump their date, even their boyfriend for any of your three friends. And you had a front row seat to watch Mattheo with some other girl. You wish you could say it didn’t bother you, but that would be lying. For every flirtation, every flavour of the month killed you to bear witness too.

Theodore scoffed. “You sound jealous my dear (Y/N/N)”.

You laughed dryly. “Oh please. Me? Jealous of you lot? Ah, no”.

  “I think you are” retorted Theodore sitting up straight. “Jealous we’ll have hot dates, while you will end up with someone lower on the food chain, or no date at all”.

Both Theodore and Mattheo laughed, though Mattheo’s was forced and to hide his true feelings. Which was his dislike for his friends’ words.

You felt anger rise in you from Theodore’s words, your cheeks flushing in annoyance. Deciding it was best to remove yourself, you got up from your spot and straightened out your uniform.

“I find your words to be hurtful and callous. So, what if my date end’s up being less than any of you? Does that diminish their worth? What makes you an excellent judge on that?” you retorted with slight venom. “And if I was to go dateless, what about it? It’s not mandatory to have a date”.

Theodore looked up to you, a smirk on his face. “No, it is not mandatory. But people would look at you like you’re pathetic, practically a leper. Am I right Mattheo?”

Your nostrils flared from Theodore’s brazen words, before your heated gaze was on the mentioned boy. You watched Mattheo closely, silently hoping he would disagree with Theodore. That he would stand up for you.

Mattheo swallowed. He knew this was it. “Sorry (Y/N/N), Theo’s got a point”.

As the words rolled off his tongue, each word scorching the appendage, did Mattheo regret those words. He hated himself. And the hurt look you gave him just about killed him. He was about to correct himself before you said your goodbyes and took off.

“Good job idiots” Lorenzo sighed throwing a rock at both his friends, before taking off after you.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

[allywthsr]

BIGGEST SUPPORTER | (l.norris)

summary: Lando finishes in P2 in silverstone and you guys celebrate

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: hinted smut but nothing graphic

notes: like and comment your thoughts!!

A loud cheer erupts in the garage as Lando crossed the finish line in P2. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

You felt a squeeze on your hand and looked to your right, being faced with Lando‘s grandmother. She loved you ever since she met you 5 years ago.

You both had the biggest smile on your lips as you stood up and hugged everyone that came your way.

Being with Lando since he started racing in F1, you knew his team pretty well, just as they knew you.

When Zak pulled you to the podium and placed you in the front row, next to Adam, you couldn’t wait to hug your Lando, to squeeze him tight, and to congratulate him.

As he parked his car behind the sign with the big 2 on it, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, as they slowly made their way down to your cheeks. Pulling out your phone just to capture a quick little picture, to set it as your lockscreen later. When you put your phone back into your bag, the big TV camera panned in your direction.

The camera focused on you and the rest of the crew, as you spilled the tears and by now you were full-on sobbing. You couldn’t wait for the edits and memes Lando‘s fans were creating, already picturing how you are gonna show them to Lando once you’re both settled in bed later.

When Lando finally jumped out of his car and made a beeline to you, you opened your arms and closed them around his neck. His arms snaked behind your back as your hands cupped his helmet and you distanced your faces a little.

You looked into his slightly wet eyes and pouted.

”I am so proud of you Lando. P2 in fucking Silverstone, are you mad?“

Before he could answer you, the guys started to smack his helmet and his smile got even wider. Lando releases one of his arms from you while keeping the other one tight around your waist, as he started to hug the others.

The FIA guy pulling him away from you towards the scale to do the typical after-race things, like weighing, you proudly looked at him while he removed the helmet of his head and took a big gulp of water out of his water bottle that has been placed on his little stand afterward. You didn’t even want to imagine how thirsty he must be after almost winning the British grand prix, but well, with Max always in P1, it’s kind of like a win, right?

While the post-race Interviews started with Lewis and Max, he came to you once again.

Now finally being able to kiss you, he pressed his lips onto yours and the tears started to flow again. When he loosened the kiss and saw the tears, he put his hands on both sides of your face and used his thumb to wipe them away.

A slight chuckle left both of your lips at the same time, making you both laugh even more.

He put his forehead to yours and whispered a quiet ” Thank you angel“. You looked at him again and kissed the top of his nose and then his forehead.

He gave Zak a quick hug and kissed Adam‘s cheek, as he had to go and do his post-race interview.

As he talked to the interviewer about the strategies and feelings he had during the race, you admired him, the way his helmet left imprints on his face, and don’t get me started on his helmet hair, you just wanted to run your fingers through his strands.

”Lando, the last question, we just saw your girlfriend, Y/N, cry, what does that do to you?“

The smile on his face got even bigger, as always when someone asked about you. Him always saying that you were the best thing that happened to him and he wanted to show you off, being proud of himself for getting someone that beautiful and smart at the same time.

”Well you know, she‘s my biggest supporter and she told me she is proud of me, so I guess that’s why she started crying, but yeah, I love her so much and I’m happy that she is here to share this experience with me, being at my home race and having her as a supporter is just phenomenal, she does so many things to come to as many races as possible and I’m so happy and grateful that I have her by my side.“

Now all the attention was on you, multiple cameras were shoved in your face and you could feel the whole world watching you, well, it’s not wrong, the whole world WAS watching you.

”You two seem like a lovely couple, do we hear any wedding bells soon?“

You wanted to roll your eyes, but decided not to, people shouldn’t think you were an evil bitch, but hearing this question or reading this comment over and over again, it’s just tiring.

You both took your time, having the same opinion on people marrying after knowing the partner for two weeks. You guys have been together for five years, but you just took your time and didn’t want to rush anything. But if he did pop the question, you wouldn’t even need time to think about the answer.

Lando let out a high-pitched giggle and started to fidget with his fingers.

”You know, we don’t wanna rush into anything, we’re still young and enjoying life right now, you never know what the future holds but we’re really happy right now.“, hoping that he would be satisfied with the answer, Lando‘s thoughts went back to a little something he hid in his luggage wherever he went. Just waiting for the right time, was a diamond ring, that you would love, he was sure of that.

After the podium celebration, where Lando almost poured the whole bottle into your direction after his famous bottle on ground hitting thing, you were smelling like champagne but you couldn’t care less. Happily smelling like the success of your boyfriend.

You both went into his private room in the hospitality. Lando couldn’t wait for a shower but you just had to hug him, so you stood in the middle of the small room for at least two minutes just hugging and being close to the other. You had so many feelings you couldn’t comprehend. You both reeked of champagne and Lando was fully drenched in the fuzzy liquid, as Lewis and Max poured their bottles all over him, you shared small kisses and you played with his wet hair.

”Babe, let me have a shower and then we can cuddle at the club.“

You pouted, didn’t want to let him go, or not being close to him. But he did need a shower desperately. And a change of clothes as his suit and fireproofs clung to him like a second skin.

”But hurry love, I need to shower in the hotel as well and get ready for the after-party, I can’t go like this!“, you pointed at yourself, being dressed in a fancy outfit but not fancy enough for a club. And you needed a shower as well, and a touch-up of your makeup. You were thankful that you applied waterproof everything so nothing had smudged, but you just needed to freshen it up a little and make it more party-like.

”You look just as gorgeous as ever, my love, but I will hurry, I want to lay down in a bed soon, I‘m really tired.“

You leaned to his ear, whispering: ” You won’t get much sleeping done tonight babyboy.“, he let out a gasp and you left the room with a mischievous smile. You loved it when you made him flustered.

After leaving his room you sat with his family in the hospitality and chatted until he was ready to go. You both said your goodbyes and started to walk to his car.

You both made it to Lando’s car after he got stopped every meter for an autograph, but you two didn’t mind, today Lando was really happy about the positive feedback everyone gave him. But when you did make it safely tucked into the comfortable seats of his McLaren, his hand was glued to your thigh, seeing that Lando also needed that physical contact, made you happy. You knew he was always a bit extra clingy after a good result, but never that much. He also kept one hand on your lower back or one arm wrapped around your waist as you guys walked through the paddock, not even removing it, as he took pictures or signed stuff. You were sure all of these people had the ugliest Lando Norris autograph of all time, as he didn’t hold the paper or whatever with his other hand, but he seemed satisfied with it. Just needing you close to him today.

You arrived at the hotel and the clingy Lando continued. He hugged you from behind and threw you guys on the Queen-sized bed, needing a cuddle. With his breathing getting calmer with every breath and his eyes slowly closing you knew where this was going, but not today, you needed to get going. A shuttle was organized to pick you up in an hour, and you didn’t want to be late again. So you turned around in his embrace and poked his left cheek with your index finger.

”Lando I really need to freshen up, I smell bad and I feel gross!“

”You could never be gross, you’re not a fish Y/N, fish are gross, but not you baby.“, he mumbled. He really was on the brink of falling asleep, all of this success must have tired him out.

”Baby no,“ you let out a chuckle, ”just a quick shower, you can sleep a little but then we have to leave for your party!“

His lips formed into a pout, that you couldn’t resist kissing. He opened one eye, started to smirk, and pulled you even closer to him.

”No Lando! Don’t even start, we really don’t have time for this now. No no no no no no.“, you loosened from his grip and stood up as fast as you could.

”But baby, I need to shower again, I don’t think I cleaned my back well enough earlier“, he cheekily said.

You just looked at him with your stern look and arched your eyebrow towards your hairline.

He started to pout again. ”You’re no fun.“

You chuckled and finally went into the bathroom to get the shower you desperately needed. After a more party-like Make-up and an outfit change, you were ready to go as Lando still laid on the bed. You told him multiple times to get up while you got ready but he didn’t listen. Being the stubborn boy he was.

”Well, if you don’t want to go, then I‘ll leave without you.“

You heard a grumble from the bed.

You sometimes felt like your boyfriend turned into a little child with you being his mother. It just made you laugh at how childish he can be behind closed doors.

He did eventually got ready and you both made it to the shuttle that picked you and some other crew members up.

He kept an intense grip on your leg, as he talked to the other guys, which made your legs twitch, but now is not the time to think about that. You just couldn’t wait for the night to end already.

You all made it to the club and after a few speeches of important crew members and Lando, the party got started. You danced, had drinks, and just fun celebrating Lando and the team for the good result.

And let’s say, you guys didn’t really sleep much, but not in the way you promised Lando earlier, in fact, he didn’t even think about that anymore, instead you sat next to him on the bathroom floor while he emptied his stomach into the toilet and rubbed his back with your hand slowly to show your support. He promised you not to drink that much because of how the last party ended. But he didn’t listen to you, nor did he learn from his mistakes. But the scolding could wait until tomorrow, now he just wanted to feel better. You stopped counting the drunken ‘I love you‘s‘ he whispered when he didn’t hang with his head down in the toilet. But you couldn’t be mad at him, as you looked at your lockscreen, the chrome car behind the P2, excused his behavior. And you never showed him the memes of your crying, but that could wait until tomorrow too.

”You really are my biggest supporter, even when I hang with my head down the toilet.“

yourusername

yourusername I love you my boy, Pfucking2, you amaze me everyday. Thank you for being you and killing it on track everytime. Here‘s to more Podiums and hopefully less patting your back while you empty your stomach in the toilet after the afterparties. Love you smelly🧡

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username1 You were so cute on TV!!!!

username2 They’re meant to be, proof me wrong🥹

username3 Parents.

landonorris Love you too ig, thanks for exposing me🧡

maxfewtrell hahahaha what a muppet

username4 When are they getting married?????

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #formula 1 #silverstone gp 2023 #racing

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hi hii, I've seen your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request somewhat one-sided Astarion x reader/Tav/he catches feelings first kinda situation??? Pretty please, love your writing 🙏

Too Generous Too Kind

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion has travelled by your side for weeks and it makes his stomach churn when he grows to trust you, the trust turns into something more and he feels even worse.

warnings : astarion's scars, reader is injured.

For weeks Astarion had been travelling by your side. And for weeks he was under the impression he was only using you to get to Baldur's Gate safely. You were a powerful ally, an asset to his plan of revenge. 

He would stand by your side, of course, and watch your back as you had always watched his. But he couldn’t hold back how aggravating you were, you didn’t care whether he approved of your decisions or not. You made your own, walked your own street, and he was forced to follow it if he wanted to keep you around. 

And for weeks he had watched you talk your way out of situations, or convince a trader to give you free supplies. A master with your words. He watched as you lied and manipulated, and it made his faith in you soar. 

But then you would turn around and help a helpless child or a person that meant nothing to you, and his respect for you waivered. Why did they deserve any of your help? It’s not like they helped you in any way. And they definitely wouldn’t help you the same way you chose to help them if it were you stranded on the side of the road with no help. They would leave you, he was sure of it. He would, just like everyone had done to him, no one was deserving of your help if they had nothing to give you in return. 

So constantly you would find yourself in front of him, as he yelled at you and glared down at you with fire burning behind his eyes. He was tired of wasting time with people who didn’t matter. “Must you stop to help every worthless person we find on the side of the road?” His voice is venomous and unimpressed. It’s not the first time he has made a complaint, and him continuing to be unacknowledged was becoming more and more irritating each time he tried.

“You’d regret saying that if it was you on the side of the road, and we left you to grovel in your own misery.” Your arms are crossed, disciplinary stare on your face like he’s a child. He hates it. 

It’s not like anyone ever stopped to help him in the past.

Too generous. Too kind. 

Sure it gave you allies, and more often than not they would reward you for your good deed. But still, you could’ve killed them and taken it from their cold, dead body. Or he could’ve pickpocketed them for you, no time wasted. 

Astarion only feels his opinion change when your actions begin to affect him and not just the strangers you pass by through your travels. 

Suddenly he feels himself growing overwhelmingly close to you. Close enough that he feels he’s safe to tell you about Cazador and the threat he may play in your life in the future, and in a moment of privacy, just you and him, he offers to show you the scars on your back. You're not sure what to say at first, you just stare and it makes his skin crawl with insecurity. 

He shivers when your fingers meet his back to trace along the lines, “He did this?” He can only nod, embarrassed by this moment of transparency and weakness. God forbid he try to speak and all that comes out is a wobbly, pathetic cry where a snide comment laced with sarcasm should be.

You grab his shoulder to turn him around, holding both his hands in your own with a tightness that has his skin crawling in a different way. “I won’t let him hurt you again, we won’t, all of us, you'll never have to fight him alone. We’ll help you, no matter what,” Your thumbs swipe across the skin of his pale and shaky fingers and it sends heat up his cold arm,  “I’ll help you.” 

It’s so genuine and so sincere, it almost makes the air catch in his lungs. 

His eyes widen, and he has to force himself to hide how grateful he is to hear the words leave your mouth. He hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten what it was like to feel safe. To have someone who cares for him so much that they would put their life in danger to protect him. You were always kind to the helpless and needy, he just never thought he would allow himself to fit that description again, especially not in front of you.

You barely know him. You barely know his story, you’ve only seen his scars once and briefly heard of his former master's cruelty. But you’re ready to lay your life down for his cause. For him. To protect him. He feels lighter, holding the weight of Cazadors power on two pairs of shoulders instead of his alone..

Too generous. Too kind. 

For a while, he finds himself to be less annoyed by the way you stop to help. He doesn't mind as much when it inevitably slows the journey down. It still bothers him but finds it easier to manage when he sees the satisfactory smile you wear after. The sight almost makes a proud smile appear on his own face, smile lines subtly deepening before he wipes the evidence away.

You impress him, through it all. You hold your own while managing to deal with everyone else’s problems on your back, and while he hates the way you try to help everyone, he admires the way you handle it all.

Again his opinion changes when you reach Moonrise Towers. Whilst exploring, you meet a woman named  Araj, a drow, who offers a potion of immense power in exchange for Astarions teeth sinking into her skin. The mere idea has you scoffing, the potion would be nice but you would never jeopardize Astarions freedom in exchange for something that would only benefit yourself. 

But she pushes, even after Astarion declines. He is clearly uncomfortable and her continuous attempt to convince him has your blood boiling, face beginning to develop a red tinge from frustration.

“Excuse me if I’m mistaken but I’m sure I just heard him say no..”

“And I’m sure you can tell him to change his mind, he is yours, correct? I assume he follows your orders.” Your eyebrow raises at the suggestion that Astarion was anything but his own being. Your party is murmuring behind you, Karlach’s hand finding a place on your shoulder to tell you to calm down before things get out of hand. 

Even Astarion feels himself becoming concerned for how this would pan out. He’d never seen you so angry. A part of him was touched that you could be so angry on his behalf. But the majority of his mind is conflicted on if he should step in before you rip this woman's head clean off her shoulders. 

You feel your mouth open to shout at the drow in front of you but Astarions fingers slip within your own, squeezing in warning. Your mind clears a little, and you take a deep breath to calm your breathing. Karlach and Shadowheart stare at the scene in silence, but Karlach’s fingers give your shoulder another reassuring squeeze before slipping away. 

“I don’t own him, if that’s what you're trying to imply. He’s his own person. Who can make his own decisions, and he said no. That’s the last I’ll hear of the matter.”

A vampire spawn, a slave to Cazador for so many years, suddenly with the ability to act on his own and think for himself. His heart swells. He can’t think of any other word to describe how he feels but grateful. But maybe something else is lingering deeper underneath? Whatever the feeling is, it clouds his mind and puts a weight on his chest.

Later at camp he dwells on it, it’s hard not to see how your tired eyes consistently meet him. What could you be thinking? He can’t stop focusing on the way you speak to everyone but him, and jealousy is beginning to fester around his tent. What did he do to make you ignore him? When you finally reach him to say goodnight, his jealousy from earlier returns and he wants to send you away, but he can’t. 

“Thank you..” He’s cut you off before you can say goodnight and walk away from him, and you're stunned. His voice is soft, much softer then he wanted it to be, but he allows his tone to stay the same. Trust. Trusting you without realizing. 

“For what exactly?”

“For what you did at Moonrise. You could’ve forced me to go through with that..but you didn’t,” Astarion feels his eyes soften, stomach turning, “And I’m grateful.”

He gets anxious in front of your eyes when you don’t say anything. But his body becomes lighter when your arms wrap around him. He is certain it’s not a hug for your own comfort, but for his. And going against every instinct in his body that tells him to push you away, he hugs you back, wrapping his arms around you.. 

“I want you to know I will never put you in a position where you don’t have free will. You control yourself, Astarion, I will never jeopardize your freedom for my own benefit. You're a member of my party..you're my friend. I could never do that to you.” 

Friend? He couldn’t remember the last time he had someone to call a friend. If ever. But the words have him squeezing you closer to his body, face slipping into the crevice of your neck. 

“I was worried you might’ve been mad at me for refusing her, you were ignoring me. I wasn’t sure what I had done..” His words pull at your heart, you hadn’t meant to make him feel that way..

“Astarion..” 

“Hm?” He doesn’t move, he’s not sure if he wants to. Astarion is sure that he could hold you like this for as long as you would let him. 

“I didn’t mean to ignore you.. I was actually deciding how I should apologize..” 

“Apologize for what, dear?” He scoffs in your ear, he’s so close and the pet name flows with ease from his lips. If it were any other man you wouldn’t have noticed.

“For how I handled her today. I should’ve stayed calm. I just..I got so angry and she kept pushing and I was scared that she would do something to you..” 

The feeling is back in his chest, heavy and heating his face. His arms tighten and it silences your rambling, “Don’t apologize for being angry. You did nothing wrong… I actually quite appreciate your anger on my behalf. You didn’t have to but I appreciate that you denied her. I was certain you were going to kill her.” A chuckle stumbles from his lips, breath heavy on your ear. 

“I might’ve if you didn’t step in.” He pulls away from you, hands still resting on your arms, and disappointment fills your body. 

Astarion feels it again when your eyes look up into his with comfort painted across your face, a jab at his heart, and he is certain. He’s smitten and he can’t help the way his eyes fill with adoration. 

You wear a small smile on your face, filling him with comfort, but a sadness lingers in his mind. The fact is , you don’t feel the same and it causes his heart to become heavier. His hands fall from your arms, waving you off with a gentle goodnight before entering his tent. You stay standing in confusion, it sends your thoughts spiraling as you leave towards your own tent. 

Too generous. Too kind.

The next few days he is dazed, distracted and it shows. He misses his shots, when you speak to him his mind is elsewhere and the words you deliver slip through his ears. Everyone is clearly annoyed. 

But he cannot see it. He truly can’t see or hear anything, his thoughts are screaming at him about you. He cares for someone other than himself. He is depending on someone who is not himself.  He’s worried for your well-being, and he knows you’d be better without him by your side. He’s a burden with his mission to defeat Cazador, and he thinks about leaving.

And he thinks about you again. Every time he draws his bow, the thought of losing you fills his head and his fingers slip, arrow flying with unfocused aim. You trip and his previously unattentive eyes fly to your body, catching your arm in his tight grip to keep you from falling. The only words he speaks are soft, “I’ve got you.” He doesn't wait for your acknowledgement before he slips back into his clouded mind. 

He is unaware of his surroundings. He isn’t paying attention. Even when you’re fighting and he is tasked with shooting, he isn’t fully there. 

But when a cry leaves your mouth, hand clutching your side where you’ve been stabbed, he suddenly sees all. He’s breathing heavily as he rushes to your side to hold his hand on your wound, putting pressure on it. “I’ve got you..I've got you. please..you're gonna be okay..”

His eyes don’t leave yours as Karlach lifts you. He holds your fingers in his own as she carries you to camp for the night. He doesn't leave your side , even after everyone has gone to sleep, and your eyes have closed he remains. 

“Astarion?” 

Eyes wide, he looks up tiredly from where his eyes were staring at your wound. “Oh..gods. I’m so sorry..” His forehead falls onto your thigh in a huff.

“W..what?” You let your hand fall onto his head, concerned and not fully awake yet. 

“I’m so sorry..I..I let you get hurt. I was distracted and you got hurt because of me, my love.” 

“Astarion, what are you talking about? What..” You wince as you try to sit up, Astarion lifting his head from your lap instantly when he hears the hiss leave your mouth. 

He slips his fingers into your hand, squeezing tightly. “I..I couldn’t stop thinking..and I wasn’t paying attention. If I was..you never would’ve been hurt.” 

His words would almost make you laugh if they weren’t so somber, “Astarion please..this is not your fault.” 

“I knew this would happen..”

“What?” 

“I’m only putting you in danger, being in this group, I’ll only be a burden on you. This will keep happening..” 

Your heart sinks, “Astarion..”

“No..”, His eyes won't meet yours, “I can’t stay any longer. I need to find Cazador.” You open your mouth to speak but he already knows what you're about to say, “Without you.” 

“No..no way!”

“Please..just..” His fingers squeeze around yours again, “I can’t keep hurting the person I love. I can’t do it..not to the only person who's ever allowed me to feel safe.” 

“Astarion..” You place your other hand over his, sitting up straighter to put your face in his, “If you think for a minute that you can get away with telling me you love me, just to run away and leave me, you’re mistaken.” Your foreheads meet, head falling to touch his while lifting your head to cup his cheek in your palm, thumb rubbing over a dried patch of blood on his face. 

He stayed by your side when he could’ve gone to rest and clean himself off, and it makes your heart swell in your chest. You figured you would be alone when you woke up but here Astarion sits in front of you with dried blood covering his face and making his strands of his hair hard under your fingers, eyes tired but still open. 

“Besides I told you, you’d never have to fight him alone..ever again.” 

“I can’t do this to you.” His eyes close, lips pursing. 

“You're not doing anything to me, we're in this together. I promise. ”

“I..”

“Astarion. I said we're in this together. You can leave but you better believe I will follow you until the end to keep you safe. Just like you keep me safe..”

Too Generous. Too Kind.

He opens his eyes to look into yours. They’re so soft, searching your eyes for genuinity. He is unsure whether you mean everything you're saying. But Astarion is sure then as he searches, you’ve never been more truthful in your life. You mean everything. His barricade is broken and he slowly moves in to plant his lips softly to yours, hands shaking against your skin. 

It's soft and unsure. Just like he is. And he doesn’t stay there long in fear of making you uncomfortable, or god forbid he irritates your injury. You can’t help but smile at the genuine smile that peeks out at his lips. 

“So..the person you love?”

“Careful..I can still take it back.” 

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #x reader #oneshot #drabble #baldurs gate #astarion acunin #gn reader

[yutaholic]

the show must go on (M)

PAIRING: Haechan (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Your best friend, your ride or die, Haechan has never once left your side, but all good things must come to an end.

WARNINGS: strong language; brief mentions of alcohol and drug abuse; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 7.9k words; this is part three of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Seattle, 1991

We met in detention. Eighth grade. Not to be cliché, but I knew Lee Haechan was trouble when he walked in.

Takes one to know one.

What I didn’t know was the role he would come to play in my life. I doubt many people meet their soulmate in middle school. I was pretty lucky in that.

The two of us practically lived in detention that entire year. Ninth grade was a little better; we just hung out behind the school instead of inside it. A silly pair of dumb kids wearing matching leather jackets and passing a cigarette back and forth, coughing up smoke and thinking it made us cool.

We thought we had it all figured out. But only Haechan turned out to be right.

He was the one that started the band. Haechan threw us all together and made music out of our chaos and trauma. He was the glue and without him, we would fall apart.

You clambered quietly into the passenger seat and whispered, “They’re asleep.”

Haechan was behind the wheel, but the van was parked on a grassy knoll just off the main highway. “Finally, some fucking peace and quiet,” he mumbled, sitting in a cloud of smoke that poured from his lips. The thick scent of marijuana filled the van from stem to stern.

You followed your best friend’s gaze. His eyes were firmly planted out the window at the black curtain of nightfall painted with billions of little lights. “The sky looks so pretty,” you said in awe.

“I know. It’s crazy seeing stars this bright.”

There was a tiny lull of silence. You were thinking. It wasn’t often you got to be alone with Haechan lately and it was making you crazy - not getting to confide in your best friend.

“I let Mark raw me,” you blurted out.

Haechan snorted. “I heard, but clearly your birth control did its job.”

“I snorted cocaine with Jeno… and fucked him in a dressing room.”

Your best friend looked at you, arching a brow. “So?” Doing crazy shit with Jeno wasn’t new, to be fair.

“What the hell am I doing?”

“What you do best - loving everyone except yourself.”

You frowned. Nail hitting the head every time, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t do that,” you said in a small voice.

Haechan smirked and put the joint to his lips, taking another long drag. “You know me better than to think I’m going to be your conscience and scold you,” he said a moment later. “It makes sense you’re trying to get in as many rounds of fun before the summer ends.”

The summer was winding down. August was half over.

I didn’t want it to end. I couldn’t. Because I knew in my heart when we went home, we would go our separate ways. Forever.

There would be nothing holding us together anymore.

“Haechan?”

“Yes, my love?”

You fought back tears as you asked, “What are we going to do when it’s all over?”

Haechan slapped on a playful grin for your sake and said, “We’re going to get scouted at a concert and get a huge record deal and I’ll eat you out over a bed of hundred dollar bills.”

You snorted. “God, that would be a dream.” You quickly sobered. “What’s the reality?”

Your best friend’s grin melted away and his voice turned to frost. “Go home. Find a minimum wage job. And try not to turn into raging alcoholics like our parents.”

“I thought so,” you sighed, hanging your head.

Haechan reached over and rubbed your arm. “Save the major depressive episode for back home. Let’s just enjoy these last few days.”

“I don’t want to give up,” you said, meeting his eyes again. The fire inside you lit itself with resolve. No matter how small it was. “I want something more for us in life.”

“I know you do, baby,” Haechan crooned, touching your cheek affectionately. “But some things are just out of our control.”

You blinked with the urge to cry. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Regardless of his gentle tone, Haechan’s words sounded final. You slipped out of the seat and to the floor to lay your head on Haechan’s thigh, closing your eyes as he stroked your hair.

After a moment, Haechan whispered, “I’ll never forget you for as long as I live. No matter what happens. I hope you know that.”

The tears slipped down your face as you smiled and said, “I love you too.”

Haechan’s lips twitched. He wanted so badly to not let it bother him, but he couldn’t. He knew damn well when the summer ended and the band came up empty, there would be a permanent wedge of broken hearts and crushed dreams between you.

So, so lonely. That was Haechan’s biggest fear. Losing his best friends would destroy him beyond repair. He would go through life jaded and bitter, like his parents.

Maybe it really was unavoidable. Fighting fate sounded great in songs, but reality wasn’t kind. He knew that better than anyone.

The next morning, you woke in the bed with Jeno’s arm tucked around your waist, his body molded to yours keeping you warm. There was no telling which boy scooped you off the floor and put you in bed, but your money was on Mark. He was having a hard time looking at you and Haechan was mysteriously quiet.

But you knew why.

Tension had settled over the van, the worst of the worst. After the show in Seattle, there were no more gigs to be played. Now, the long drive home would begin, shadowed by defeat and failure.

You resorted to doing what you always did; trying to alleviate the pressure and raise everyone’s spirits. Once the boys were up and actually keeping their eyes open, you had Jeno drive to the nearby state park.

As he did, you drifted between them. They were like strangers, devoid of energy and hope. Mark hadn’t touched his guitar since the final gig. The gentle strumming of his acoustic and the beauty of his softly whispered singing didn’t fill the van anymore, to your dismay.

Haechan curled up in the bed and didn’t say a word. Jeno drove silently, smoking one cigarette after another and blowing the smoke out the window. You started with him, running your hand over his shoulder as he held the wheel. Jeno glanced at you briefly, offering a weak smile that even he couldn’t keep. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

You went to Mark next and curled up next to him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly. Mark was a little surprised, seeing as how the two of you had been working hard to keep your hands off each other, but was over the moon to have you in his arms again. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back.

“Won’t you play a little something?” you asked gently.

Mark shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, closing your eyes to fight the tears.

Finally, you went to Haechan and sat on the mattress next to him. He just looked at you, his stare vacant and blank. You brushed his long hair from his face and leaned in to trace a few kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth, just to see if you could spark a reaction.

Haechan pushed you ever so slightly and said, “That’s not going to work this time.”

You frowned. And gave up. The three were inconsolable and it broke your heart.

Sidling over to the cabinet, you found your notebook and began flipping pages, going to where you’d left off. Your brows stitched when you didn’t find it and that was when you noticed the torn remains of paper in the metal spiral.

“Okay. Which one of you ripped the page out?”

Mark met your eyes and said, “Don’t look at me.”

You called, “Jeno?”

“You know I wouldn’t touch your shit,” he replied calmly.

Leaving you to turn to Haechan, his eyes closed. “Haechan?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your memoir,” he said, hissing your name.

That made you flinch. You understood his anger, but not the vitriol toward your story. Your eyes fell to the notebook and the missing page, and your hands began to shake.

You threw the notebook at the cabinet and it landed in a pitiful heap. Tensing with frustration, you bent your legs, wrapped your arms around your knees, and hid your face, crying as quietly as you could.

Mark moved slowly, grazing against you to pick up the notebook and tuck it back into its place neatly, but he didn’t have the courage to comfort you. Too scared he would make it worse.

It was Haechan that slipped to the floor and enveloped you in his arms, cradling your head to his chest and dabbing at your cheeks with his sleeve.

When Jeno pulled into the park, you breathed in relief. The van was too stifling, suffocating you in all its misery. You hopped out of the van without a word and started marching for the scenic overlook advertised on a giant sign like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

One-by-one, your bandmates whined and huffed, but inevitably followed. They could wallow in their own disappointment, but they couldn’t stand seeing it hit you.

That’s how the four of you came to sit at a lone picnic table, silently staring at the Pacific Ocean, watching the waves ebb and flow in all its unwavering glory.

The tears had dried on your face. Breathing in the sweet, salty air grounded you again, clearing your lungs and your head.

You were the one to finally break the silence. “I need to come clean about something.”

“Go ahead,” Jeno replied, yawning as he still struggled to shake off sleep.

Wringing your hands in your lap, you began, “I’ve been mailing pieces of the memoir to Cassie.”

“That explains the trips to the post office,” Mark said offhandedly. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be glib or not.

“And?” Jeno pressed.

You took a breath. “She submitted it to a publisher for their… consideration, I guess it’s called.”

Well, that woke everyone up.

“Are you serious?” Haechan asked, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” You were befuddled by the reaction, glancing around at them. All three of your boys were sporting similar looks of shock. “You knew I was writing a memoir.”

“We knew you were scribbling in a notebook to toss in a bin and find it again twenty years later and laugh at all the dumb shit we did…” Haechan’s tone of disdain was not lost on you.

Jeno’s gawking increased. “Babe, are you insane?”

You felt small on that picnic table between them, utterly confused, and snapped, “No. I’m trying to get us out of this hell!”

Grimacing, Mark asked pointedly, “You wrote about all the very illegal shit you’ve been doing?”

Oh. That’s why they were freaked out. Underage drinking. Marijuana. Cocaine. All very punishable offenses. You shrugged and plastered on your cutest, most innocent smile. “A little?”

“Fuck,” Jeno swore, sliding off the bench to his feet and running a hand through his hair.

Haechan shook his head and chuckled. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

You rubbed your arms awkwardly.

I was so determined to make it work. It was tunnel vision, so intense I could see nothing else.

“What did the publisher say?” Mark asked, touching your shoulder in comfort. The awkwardness was killing him too.

“I don’t know,” you said, leaning into him a little, desperate for warmth. “I call Cassie at every stop to check on the dogs and she promised to update me on any replies from the publisher.”

Jeno looked to Haechan. “Can they report us to the cops?”

Haechan waved him away, looking more amused the longer he thought about it. “No. She can just say it’s all fiction. Very embellished fiction.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Good thinking.”

You almost laughed. Haechan could lie his way out of almost anything. In this case, it would be in your favor. You glanced around at your boys again. “So…, is everyone mad at me or are we good?”

“We’re good,” Haechan said, patting your head. “For now.”

“Fuck.” Mark sounded exhausted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I could handle losing our music career, but being notorious in a fucking book.”

It was your turn to comfort him, running your hand across his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under your fingers.

Jeno kicked at a pinecone, watching it skitter across the rocks. “We’d be the fucking losers just known for banging bitches at every stop,” he sneered. Then, the drummer had a thought and raised his brows. “Actually, whatever gets us paid, I don’t really care.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Mark asked curiously. “You technically wrote the book, but it’s about all of us.”

You made a face. “It’s our story. Of course I’d split everything fairly with you guys.”

Haechan smiled at you ever so faintly.

“I can’t believe our story’s almost over,” Jeno mumbled bitterly.

You perked up. This was as good a time as any. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?”

You got up and spun on your heels, so you could face them all at once. “I was thinking…,” you said, shifting your weight. “We could get a place together and we’d work odd jobs to pay the bills, but we would play gigs here and there. Whatever we could get.”

Jeno simpered. You weren’t clinging to the band. You just didn’t want to let go of them.

“We’d be scraping by a living forever,” Mark pointed out.

“But we’d be doing what we love,” you argued.

“Try loving something that never loves you back,” Haechan said harshly. “You become bitter and miserable. Just like my parents. And yours.”

You scanned their faces. Each had the tiniest bit of hope in their eyes, but their expressions were firmly rooted in defeat. “You guys just want to go home after everything we did this summer and…,” you trailed, a tremble creeping into your voice. “Pretend like it never happened?”

Jeno softened. “Of course it happened. We’ll always look back and remember this as the best days of our lives.” He talked to you like he was soothing a fussy baby. “But best days don’t last. That’s why you look back on them.”

Your eyes burned. More tears would come any moment now and you weren’t ashamed of them. “I just don’t understand why you’re all giving up. Why am I the only one trying to keep us together?”

“Because you’re the dreamer,” Mark sighed.

Haechan snapped, “Stop being so gentle with her,” and Jeno was quick to warn, “Don’t be a dick.”

Your best friend jumped down from the picnic table and approached you. You knew by his tone and his gait that he was about to dress you down and you readied yourself for the blow.

“This is how it’s going to go,” Haechan started, pointing at the guitarist. “Mark’s parents will blow their entire retirement savings to send him to a good college to recover their reputation. And they will never let him date someone like you.”

You flinched.

“Fuck you,” Mark hissed, every muscle in his body tensing for a fight.

Haechan continued, “Jeno won’t be able to hold down a job. He’ll be a regular customer in rehab, then jail.”

Jeno held up his middle finger. “Go to hell.”

Haechan set his eyes on you and a chill ran down your spine. “And you,” Haechan said through clenched jaws. “You’ll meet some guy you can barely stand, but he’ll keep a nice roof over your head. He’ll put a couple babies in you after some miserable missionary and your entire personality will center around the screaming kids you never wanted. Just like your mom.”

Your blood turned to ice in your veins. Planting both hands on Haechan’s chest, you shoved him back and screamed, “You son of a bitch, I hate you!”

Jeno was suddenly caught in a very precarious position. As you stomped off, his first instinct was to go after you, but in the next second, Mark was off the table and charging toward Haechan. So, Jeno had to decide whose life was in the most imminent danger.

And he correctly chose Haechan.

Mark grabbed Haechan by the collar with both hands and crowded into his face. “I’m gonna fuck you up,” he roared, but Haechan didn’t fight back.

He was numb. His face was blank, his eyes cold.

Jeno did his best to wedge himself between them, but he was too defeated. All the thunder was gone from him. “Why did you do that to her?” he asked sadly.

“She has to let go of us,” Haechan replied, looking from Jeno to Mark. “Make her hate you. It’s the only way.”

Mark shook his head in dissent, clenching his fists even tighter in Haechan’s shirt.

You put plenty of distance between yourself and the boys, and the moment you found a solitary bench between trees, you collapsed onto it, buried your face in your hands, and wept.

We have no secrets, Haechan and I. He knows the darkest depths of my soul, and I know his.

I never thought he’d use that as a weapon, but I should have known.

He was the only one that dreamed bigger and harder than me. With it all ending, his heart was dying and pain makes us do horrible things. Especially to the ones we love most.

Because he knew I would still love him anyway. No matter how much he broke me.

Time lost all meaning as you cried on that bench. It wasn’t just Haechan’s words that crushed you, it was the cruel reality of life. You didn’t want to live without your boys. The four of you were too interwoven and connected. Being parted from them would be like tearing at the fabric of who you were.

You were expected to walk around with a gaping hole in your chest forever?

Sure. Most people did. It would account for all the hate and anger in the world.

“My love?”

You lifted your head at the sound of his voice, roughly wiped your wet cheeks, and growled, “Go away, Haechan. I swear to god, I will slap the shit out of you.”

Haechan dragged his feet over to you and said, “Go ahead. I deserve it.”

You refused to look at him as he sat beside you. Your eyes focused on the ocean.

We had the same biggest fear. Becoming our parents. As time went on, the more it seemed inevitable. A cycle that couldn’t be broken. We were fools to think we could be different.

That’s what I was hanging onto. I had to avoid that fate at all costs. Part of me thought that as long as I had my boys, they could save me from it.

“How could you say my worst nightmare so casually like that?” You were still shaking.

Haechan hung his head. “I was trying to hurt you.”

You scoffed, deadpanning, “At least you’re honest.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like all the air was sapped from his lungs. When you didn’t respond, Haechan said, “Look at me. Please.”

“No.”

Your best friend sighed loudly and slouched into the bench, resting his head on the back. The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, watching the world pass you by.

“You’ll prove me wrong,” Haechan said tenderly. “You will be the one that breaks the cycle. The rest of us will just watch.”

Still, you said nothing. You hated him.

Because Haechan always ended up being right. It was a gift and a curse.

Mark and Jeno came looking. The latter was the only one brave enough to approach you, holding out his hand without a word. You peered up at him and let your hand slip into his, and Jeno led you away.

Haechan blinked and the tears escaped. He held them back until you left, refusing to cry in front of you. Keeping his hands in his lap, Haechan didn’t bother to dry his cheeks.

Mark blew out a pained breath. “What do we do?”

“You know what you have to do,” Haechan said, cutting his eyes at Mark. “If you don’t stand up to your parents, they’ll make you give her up.”

“I won’t,” Mark started.

“They will wear you down. You know they will. She’s not who they have in mind for their perfect boy. They hate her.”

Mark nodded.

“If you grow a spine, the two of you can at least live happily ever after,” Haechan joked, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

“What about you and Jeno?”

Haechan stood. “It is what it is.”

The cloud in the van darkened. Jeno and Mark were miserable, and predictably stoic about it. Neither knew what to do with you. As it turned out, you were the rock, not Jeno.

Curled up in the bed with your back to them, you closed your eyes, but had no intention of sleeping. You would just lay there and wait for something to break or change. You’d done the heavy lifting so far. Now it was their turn.

Haechan couldn’t take the silence anymore. He trudged out of the van and slammed the door behind him.

You didn’t bat an eye. At this point, you didn’t have the energy to ask or care.

That wasn’t true. I always cared. Nothing could ever make me stop caring. We are all cursed and that was mine.

When the doors wheeled open, Haechan was sweaty and disheveled. You wondered how much time had passed as he sat on the mattress beside you. “Come with me,” your best friend said, holding out his hand.

You smarted, “Or what?”

“Or I’ll drag you.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him an obstinate glare, but your curiosity was piqued. The hell had he been doing that got him so shiny with sweat? It didn’t take him that long to jerk off.

A defeated sigh left your lips. He was still your best friend, even if you hated his guts at the moment.

After batting his hand away, you got up and followed Haechan outside, rolling your eyes at the looks Mark and Jeno were sporting.

Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as Haechan led you into the trees, not too far from the van. When you saw what he was bringing you to, you couldn’t help but smile a little.

A camping tent was set up; the one Haechan had insisted on strapping on top of the van in case he found a nice spot. And it seemed he found one.

This was a habit of ours. When the yelling at my house got to be too much, when I couldn’t block it with my locked door or the blankets over my head, I would sneak out the window.

My parents didn’t notice. Hard to notice if you don’t care. Haechan would always be waiting to run off with me to the park. There were safe, secluded areas to set the tent up without fear of being interrupted.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten laid in that pathetic little tent. I’d probably mourn the damn thing when it finally fell apart.

Just as I mourned my relationships.

“How about a night not sleeping in the van?” Haechan asked, unzipping the front flap and holding it open for you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you barked, narrowing your eyes at him and crawling inside.

Haechan bit his tongue. Any witty remarks would not be appreciated at the moment.

But given Haechan was allergic to quiet, he wasn’t going to keep enabling your cold shoulder for much longer. Watching you lay on your back and make yourself comfortable over the sleeping bags, Haechan sidled up next to you as close as humanly possible.

“I’m still mad,” you huffed.

“I know.”

Well, with that out of the way, you relaxed. He knew you were upset. Now the groveling could begin.

Haechan rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at you and how intensely you were ignoring him. He reached over and stroked your cheek tenderly, and said, “I love you. It’s gonna hurt so much when you leave me.”

You closed your eyes, your heart clenching in your chest. “Then why are you trying to make me leave?”

“To give myself some control over the pain. Maybe.”

You turned your head and looked at him. His hair had grown longer over the summer, its natural jet black. It was cute; falling into his eyes, hiding them behind fluffy strands. You brushed some back with your fingertips so he couldn’t hide. Then you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Haechan smiled softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. “You’re my best friend. I’ll be next to you in a nursing home.”

“Will you still kiss me if I have no teeth?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Heck yes. That would be hilarious.”

Both of you laughed at the sudden mental image of you and Haechan as two little old people sucking each other’s faces.

The rest of the world melted away. Your summer wasn’t coming to an end. It was just another night spent from home inside Haechan’s tent. If you didn’t think too hard, you could convince yourself nothing had changed.

Nothing was over.

You talked for ages, about everything. Like always. The light beyond the tent died and everything went dark, prompting Haechan to light a familiar lantern beside the sleeping bags. Soon, the ambience shifted from birds chirping to crickets singing.

When the atmosphere changed, so did the gravity inside the tent.

He was good at talking you away from the edge. Haechan made you laugh hard enough you forgot your anger and sadness, and he started stealing kisses between words. His hand occasionally traced patterns on the bit of your exposed stomach until it slipped under your shirt and got comfortable palming your breast. That’s when you began initiating kisses and running your fingers through his hair.

Kissing overtook conversation. You were immune to all the pain when his lips were on yours and you wanted more, wanted to overdose on the feeling until your heart was made of stone.

Haechan was my family. He was the only home I’d ever known, the only person who loved me unconditionally like my parents were supposed to. Soul mates aren’t always romantic. Maybe they’re just the person that loves you despite everything.

There was a little hitch in his breath as Haechan deepened the kiss, his arms heavy around you. He needed it too, needed to feel loved again before it was all over.

Your lashes fluttered as Haechan settled on top of you, abandoning your lips to suck and nibble at your neck. Your hands were on his shoulders, having been pulling him to you impatiently. His leg wedged between your thighs, pressing against your sex.

Haechan tugged at your clothes, undressing you while he bruised the base of your neck with his lips and teeth. When you yanked off his clothes and finally felt his naked body against yours, you moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers in his long hair.

It was so familiar and comforting. With Haechan, everything was okay. Nothing could hurt me here.

He seemed in no rush to touch you where you really wanted him to. Typical. Haechan always dragged things out and made it last. He knew you had all the time in the world and was in no hurry to plow through it. Pun intended.

Haechan sucked your nipple into his mouth and pinched the other with his fingers. You bit your lip and squirmed under him, feeling his hard cock against your thigh. You hooked your legs on his hips and flexed, bringing him flush against you for good measure.

You flipped your positions and Haechan let you, holding your waist as you rolled onto him, straddling his lap. He kissed you even deeper, running his hands up and down your back while you cradled his face and tried to snatch all the air from his lungs.

Haechan broke from the kiss to ask playfully, “Have you been writing about sex in the book?”

You were breathing heavily, flushed and dazed from his kisses. “Yeah,” you rasped, running your hand through your hair to get it out of your face.

Haechan tugged you back down and trailed kisses over your jaw before whispering in your ear, “I need to give you some new material.”

“As if you haven’t given me plenty already.”

“I have competition,” he retorted, brushing his hands to your breasts. “Jeno is a slut with a dragon dick. You have a fat crush on Mark and he railed the shit out of you.”

You snickered. “Who are you then?”

Haechan steered you up and shuffled down until his arms were around your thighs and his mouth was inches from your sex, and purred, “I’ll always be the one that gave you your first nut.”

Though you were about to laugh at that, the next sound out of your mouth was a whimper as Haechan tongued at your folds. You were mindful not to put too much of your weight on him, but his hands on your hips said otherwise, bringing you down to meet his lips.

The sight of his face buried in your pussy, between your thighs, was so arousing you felt your walls clench on nothing.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Reaching for his hands on your hips, you held on tight and joked breathlessly, “The book will give us more groupies than the band ever did.”

Haechan stopped sucking on your clit long enough to retort, “God, I hope so.”

An involuntary shudder shot through you when he latched back onto your bundle of nerves. You squeezed his hands even tighter, eyes winching closed. Another moan tumbled off your tongue. Haechan didn’t play when he was sucking you dry.

It was probably one of the few things in life he took seriously.

“Mm,” you hummed, trembling when his tongue swirled around your entrance before returning to your clit. “So good, baby.”

Haechan made a noise against your cunt. “You know, you only call me baby when I’m getting you off.”

“Do I?”

“I like it.”

“I like when you touch me,” you said in barely a whisper, biting your lip lest you go into juicy detail.

Haechan would have loved that.

You were so far gone already. Your hands found his hair, your hips bucking against his face. Little nothings mingled with your moans. Haechan kneaded your hips, but as you got closer, he reached up to grab and squeeze your breasts instead.

It felt so good you felt guilty that you weren’t touching him. Releasing his hair, you lilted back and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, feeling it twitch the moment your fingers made contact.

Haechan broke away from your pussy and scolded, “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

“Only think about yourself right now. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed and let Haechan guide your hands back into his hair, and he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning to do as he said. Your body tensed when he lapped at your clit again and you decided to obey. You would be selfish.

Haechan smirked when you arched away from him, propping yourself over him on your arms and riding his face. He reeled a hand back and slapped your ass, the best way he knew how to convey to you that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He lapped at the arousal between your folds, his tongue teasing your bundle of nerves again. Haechan knew that was your weak spot, where you were most sensitive. If he played his cards right, he could have you screaming for mercy from the overstimulation.

“Right there,” you panted, voice pitching higher. "I'm close."

For once in his life, Haechan said nothing. He ate you out like a man starved, suddenly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. He sucked on you until your legs shook and you whimpered his name.

And when orgasm hit, you went higher than where the cocaine took you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body shuddered, and you chanted, “Fuck,” like a mantra.

Haechan kept going until you pushed frantically at his head.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” you begged, fisting his hair and finally earning yourself a reprieve.

Haechan chuckled, slipping his arms under your legs and tossing you to the side. You gladly rolled to your back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, waiting to come back to your senses.

You felt his hand smoothing its way up your thigh before cupping your sex, feeling all the slick he’d gotten out of you and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath. His fingers prodded into your pulsing pussy, hooking at your sweet spot, and you writhed, sensitive.

“Put a condom on,” you told him hurriedly, still trying to catch your breath.

As you came down from the high, Haechan crawled over to the other side of the tent and returned with a packet, tearing it open with his teeth. You watched him fit the condom on his hard cock and you spread your legs invitingly when he moved between your legs, grasping your knees and pushing them toward your chest, bending you in half.

You rested your hands on his hips and drew him toward you when he slipped his cock into your entrance and stroked in slow. “Mm, baby, you’re so good,” you mewled dramatically. “The biggest ever.”

Haechan, whose eyes had been on his cock sinking into your tight cunt, tossed his long hair out of his eyes and said, “Fuck you,” with a tiny snort.

You grinned and sank your fingers deeper into the flesh of his hips, tugging him toward you in tandem with his movements. He loved when you left scratches and bruises in his skin. A reminder of you he got to carry around with him for days after.

“Kiss me,” Haechan whispered, rocking into you harder.

Without missing a beat, you lifted your head to meet his lips, but his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the ground. A noise of frustration left you, because you couldn’t close the rest of the distance with him holding you down.

Nipping at your lips, he taunted, “What’s the matter?”

Rather than answer, you moaned as his cock bottomed out in you again. Your face tensed with pleasure, every thrust making your toes curl. You were still raw from orgasm and his cock hitting you right made a shudder race through you.

Haechan went still. When you peered up at him in confusion, he smirked and said, “Fuck me.”

You hooked your thighs higher up his hips and started grinding into him. Haechan looked down to watch you bouncing on his dick, sucking in a breath when your pace grew more hurried and desperate.

“Please move,” you whined, eyes closed. Sweat formed at your back with the effort, your body burning.

“You’re doing fine without me.”

“I’m never okay without you,” you said breathlessly, out of your mind with lust and emotions. The two were colliding.

Haechan draped over you, slipping his fingers into your hair, and fucked into you at a ruthless pace for that, making you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out.

The last thing you wanted was his name echoing through the woods. You would never live it down.

“Oh god. Oh fuck.” You clawed at his back, trying to find purchase.

Haechan gathered you in his arms and you sat up face-to-face, straddling his lap. Haechan kissed at your neck, crushing you in his arms. You rode him, his hips matching your rhythm.

“Come for me,” Haechan purred in your ear, saying your name silkily. “Again.”

It wasn’t fair that he could snap his fingers and your body would answer. You were so close and had been together for so long, your skin knew his touch. Your heart gave in to his every desire and whim.

Ecstasy spilled over and a moan caught in your throat.

Haechan held you even tighter as you came, biting his lip as he felt you clamp down on his cock, holding his breath to stave off his own orgasm until you sighed his name and slumped against him.

You buried your face in his shoulder and whimpered as his thrusts turned ragged, his groans pitching higher until he released into the condom. You rubbed his back and kissed his neck while he came down, lowering you to the floor gently and landing at your side.

The two of you breathed heavily. Sex broke something in you both that you needed. It felt final.

Like it was the last time.

Haechan discarded the condom and crawled back to you, getting a blanket out from one of the sleeping bags to drape over your bodies. You nestled closer to him, ready to doze off in his arms. Haechan settled a hand on your thigh, the other behind his head. Your eyes fluttered closed as his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“I’ll never stop fighting,” you whispered with resolve. “And you shouldn’t either.”

He said nothing, but pressed a kiss to your temple.

The next day, the van was on its way home. You sat in the passenger seat as Jeno drove, just as you had when summer - and the trip - started.

When Jeno parked at a rest area, you ventured inside to look for a payphone.

Haechan leaned back against the van, arms folded.

Mark wandered over to him, asking in a soft voice, “How is she?”

“Ask her yourself,” Haechan retorted.

Mark frowned. “You know her better than anyone.”

Haechan’s eyes darkened as he said, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jeno, who had been hovering close by, smirked at the exchange and murmured, “Says the one person actually capable of hurting her.”

Haechan shot him a glare. “She loves Mark more than she ever loved us,” he started.

Jeno was quick to cut him off, “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“Maybe she’s right about us,” Mark spoke up, glancing between them. “Maybe we should stay together and try to make it work.”

Haechan let his head fall back and groaned. “Pussy power strikes again.”

“Are you done?” Mark snapped. “You are the biggest hypocrite, you know. You’re hoping and praying she’s right. That she makes something happen. You’re trying so hard to look like you don’t care, but you don’t want to lose us.”

Tears filled Haechan’s eyes. His lips pursed.

Jeno cocked his head. “We know that, Mark,” he crooned cutely. “Our Donghyuck cares the most. That’s why he tries so hard to hide it.”

Haechan quickly wiped his cheeks. The tears had escaped too fast. After a pause, getting himself together, Haechan said, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”

“We know that too.” Jeno reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

The two looked at Mark expectantly. His anger faded and he huffed a sigh.

Your voice broke the moment. “Guys!”

“What?” Jeno barked, turning to see you racing across the parking lot toward them.

You could hardly breathe, panting like you’d run a marathon. “They want to publish the book!”

All three of them gaped in perfect sync.

“Are you fucking serious?” Haechan wheezed.

“Yeah,” you said in disbelief, chuckling to yourself. “They want me to keep sending in chapters and they’ll assign me an editor to help organize everything. And then I’ll have to fill in the gaps, but… it’s gonna be a book. An actual book!”

In the next second, you were the meat in a boy sandwich and you couldn't have been happier about it.

Once everything calmed down, Mark shook his head and exclaimed, “This is insane!”

Haechan took your face in his hands and planted a big kiss on your lips with a loud, “Mwah!” Which made Jeno whine, “I was gonna kiss her and I can’t now!”

“I’ll kiss you too,” Haechan taunted, wagging his tongue and reaching for Jeno, making the drummer turn on his heels and run for his life.

You giggled as Haechan chased after him and Mark took the opportunity to wrap you in his arms and bury his face in your neck, enveloping you in a hug. You held him tightly and closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“You did it,” Mark whispered, saying your name in reverence. “You made this summer count for something.”

Tears pricked your eyes.

Haechan and Jeno traipsed back over, pushing and shoving each other with big grins on their faces.

With the celebration winding down, you looked at your boys one-by-one and said, “There’s a couple of conditions.”

Jeno grumbled. Haechan arched a brow.

“I won’t write the last chapters and send them in until you get clean,” you said, pointing at Jeno.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious.” You planted your feet and stared him down. “You think I’m going to risk this book being a hit and us getting a huge payday just for you to blow it all on blow?”

Jeno sulked.

“It’s a fair condition,” Haechan said lightly.

“I know it is!”

You waited patiently.

“I’m not an addict,” Jeno insisted. “I am a casual user.”

“Then you can casually stop,” you smarted.

He made a face. After a tiny lull, Jeno handed you the bag from his back pocket and you didn’t hesitate to cram it into your own. Its next destination was the nearest toilet.

You turned to Mark. “There’s a condition for you too.”

Mark grimaced nervously. “I’m listening.”

“You have to do what you want with your own life. Not what your parents want.”

Mark visibly relaxed. His eyes went soft. Something happy and content washed over him. “But I don’t know what I want.”

You shrugged. “You have time to figure it out. Change your mind as many times as it takes until you find what makes you happy.”

“Okay,” said Mark, smiling.

Finally, you turned to Haechan. “And you.”

He tilted his head and puckered up his lips.

“You’re not your father, Haechan.”

“You sure? I was pretty quick to cut you down.”

You scoffed. “Last I checked, I’m still standing. Bitch.”

Haechan chuckled.

“She’s right,” Jeno said, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to press a kiss to your cheek. “We shouldn’t give up on the band already.”

“The book could make some people check us out,” Mark added, optimistic again.

All eyes were on Haechan. He smiled bashfully and said, “And if it doesn’t - if it all fails - at least we’ll know we tried.”

“No regrets,” you finished with a nod.

Haechan suddenly reached into his pocket and handed you a balled-up page.

The missing chapter of your memoir.

You gaped when you realized what it was. “I should have known you took it.”

“I couldn’t handle someone talking so highly about me,” he said under his breath.

“Oh. Only you’re allowed to speak highly of yourself?”

Mark and Jeno laughed.

Haechan did too. Then he sobered and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

You gave him a puzzled look. “Haechan, you started the band. Don’t you remember?”

“No?”

“We met in detention in eighth grade,” you reminded him, to which Haechan bobbed his head. “You noticed Jeno drumming his hands. You said you saw Mark playing acoustic by himself during lunch. And you heard me singing under the bleachers when I skipped gym.”

“I forgot all that,” Haechan mumbled, his eyes twinkling like they shone with stars. “Damn, I really gotta quit drinking.”

Mark moved to your free side and said, “Yeah, dude. We’re all here because of you.”

Haechan looked at his three best friends, his family, smiling at him, and it almost broke him on the spot. He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Jeno laughed loudly. “I’ll be damned. All you’ve ever wanted is to be the center of attention and now that you’ve got it, you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Yep,” Haechan said with a sheepish grin.

You closed the distance and hugged him, patting the back of his head. “It ain’t over till it’s over,” you whispered for his ears alone and Haechan let go the breath he’d been holding, releasing all the tension and pain in his chest.

Once you parted, Mark reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. You melted into his familiar arms and flushed when he said, “You are, by far, the greatest person I have ever met.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay.”

“Wait.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted to your toes. “Maybe a little more.”

Mark smiled as his lips met yours in a chaste kiss that he poured his all into.

A kiss that was dramatically interrupted by Jeno, knocking into Mark enough to jostle you both. “It’s not your job to save us, you know,” he chided sweetly.

Yes, it was and it always would be. Because they saved me first.

“Hey, I’m just an instrument of the power of rock and roll,” you said, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest and giving him a playful shove.

“I take back every compliment I’ve ever said to you,” he joked, tickling your sides.

You laughed.

The four of you gabbed and teased each other for what felt like an eternity. The air was lighter. The sun a was a little brighter. Your boys were smiling again and you felt the pieces of your heart snapping back into place.

Hope is a powerful thing. A gentle promise that maybe - just maybe - we could all be happy and whole.

“We’re burning daylight,” Jeno eventually said.

You exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road,” and it was the first time you said it without dread.

Hopping into the van after you, Mark stuck his head out and called, “Don’t forget the trash.”

Jeno proceeded to scoop Haechan up in his burly arms and carried him to the van.

“Very funny,” Haechan deadpanned, but he couldn’t help but grin.

Smiling till your cheeks hurt, you got in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine, pulling out of the rest area and onto the highway, toward the new life awaiting you and your boys.

Everything would change for us. The drive home wasn’t some miserable journey we’d been fearing. It was the final chapter of our summer, but only the beginning of our story.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

#nct #nct smut #haechan #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #haechan x reader

[thewulf]

Unexpectedly || Aaron Hotchner

Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here

A/N: This was SO much fun to write. Took me a little bit to get used to the writing style but once I did it flowed so well. There is A LOT going on in this one (make sure to read the full request!). Timeline is a little wonky – Season 3ish but we’re pretending George Foyet already happened, and Haley has already passed. I also just made reader 28 years old – you can pick whatever age you want!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 10.1k + (Probably should've made this 2 parts)

TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.

Life was good, great even. For the first time in a long time, you felt free, like yourself again. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to convince the BAU that you’d be a good communications liaison while JJ was out on maternity leave. Speaking in front of people never bothered you, it came naturally to you. So, when your manager mentioned an opening in the BAU for your exact job all the way across the country it piqued your curiosity. It piqued your curiosity so much that you ended up applying, interviewing, and accepting the job within a few days. On Monday you were an FBI agent stationed in Los Angeles and by Friday you were meeting your new team.

Hoping to make a good impression on your first day you brought in bagels and coffee just praying they would like you. You met your ridiculously good-looking boss that Thursday night after his team got back from a difficult case, his words not yours, and he showed you around the office. He had given the team the weekend off to relax. Something that wasn’t terribly common around there you had picked up.

Laying out the bagels on conference room table you were so in your own head you hadn’t heard the door open and close

“Well, what do we have here?” A smooth male voice came from behind you breaking you right out of your thoughts.

Spinning around on your heel you took the man in. Tall, handsome and had a devilishly cute grin across his face. Was everyone that worked here hot as hell? If that were the case you might be in trouble, “Oh hi! I’m Y/N. Agent Y/L/N. I’m covering for JJ while she’s out.” You flashed him a nervous smile hoping he wouldn’t be able to read you as easily as you thought it was. See, you never worked with profilers before this. Sure, you’ve worked at the FBI for years, but profilers made you nervous. Profilers seemed to know more about you than even you knew about yourself. And profilers at the BAU? This team was the best of the best. Better than any team you’ve worked on, that’s for sure.

He shot you a ]smile that would’ve taken you out in a previous life, “SSA Derek Morgan. Are these for the team?”

You nodded feeling his eyes surveying you, profiling you, “They are, if you want them.”

Nodding his head slowly he took a step forward to grab one, “Are you trying to butter us up?”

Giving him a small laugh, you continued, “Depends, is it working?”

His smirk grew into a full-on smile now, “Yeah, you’ll fit right in newbie.” He pulled out a chair for you to pop a squat next to him, “They’ll be in soon. Just slow on Friday mornings.” He commented after seeing you look out for anybody behind him.

Sitting down next to him you were sure you looked like a nervous mess. You were confident in your role. You knew you were damn good at your job too. But who wouldn’t be nervous walking into a room of profilers for the first time? Especially ones that could read you like an open book so quickly, “Thanks,” You gave him a quick nod, “You must be good at your job.”

Derek set his coffee mug on the table turning towards you, “We are. But that’s beside the point. You’ll learn quickly.”

Before Derek could continue the door opened again revealing your stern looking boss who gave the two of you a nod before taking a seat at the table.

“Bagel?” You offered.

With a quick look up and a quick head shake he continued scanning whatever he was looking at. Looking over at Derek curiously he just gave you a tight-lipped smile shaking his head. Deciding to just drop it you waited patiently for whatever the hell was about to happen. Hotchner briefly went over your responsibilities when he walked you through the BAU, so you were flying blind.

Slowly the team started trickling in making sure to give quick intros and thank you’s for the bagels. You sat back and observed what was going on. A quick conversation around the weekend turned to a squeal as on overly pink dressed woman came bounding into the room with a very big smile.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She clapped her hands grabbing a bagel for herself, “Don’t worry honey I only read your file. I didn’t go digging. I’m Penelope but this fine human specimen calls me Penny.” She gave Derek’s arm a squeeze.

“Or baby girl.” Derek through her a wink. A few others walked in quickly introducing themselves to you. Each team member more kind than the next welcoming you with open arms.

At Penny’s comment you felt you blood run cold. Of course, the bureau would have somebody like her on the team. It was stupid to think that this team wouldn’t have one. They needed her. Sitting in a room full of profilers who were watching the exchange was a bit unnerving too. Every expression on your face being hyper analyzed to profile you.

Raising your eyebrows in curiosity you could only ask, “Digging? What for?”

She giggled taking a seat next to Derek on his other side, “Anything dear. I can find any secret if it’s been on the internet. Maybe some that haven’t been.” She laughed.

Your heart started racing knowing she could figure you out completely. It was easy enough to get your file cleared of your past life once you changed your last name, but this? This was a problem. You couldn’t bury police and court records. Those would live for forever.

Smiling and trying to play it off as cool as possible you nodded your head along, “Noted. That’s a nifty little skill you have their Penny.” Her face lit up as she agreed with you. It wasn’t often she got complimented for her skills, so she took it when it was given.

Cool. You had to play this cool. You couldn’t let your emotions expose you now. This scenario ran through your head a hundred times before you came. You knew they were going to ask about your past. It’s not like anything was in your file other than you being from the middle of nowhere Colorado. You made sure to have it scrubbed before you came.

Hotchner cleared his throat letting the team know he was ready to go, and that work was what was important, not you at the moment. Silently thanking the man, you turned your full attention to him.

“Now that you’ve met Penny and the team has met Y/N, let’s get started.” The man was all business as he nodded to Penny. She passed out the case file to each team member, including you. Visibly fighting back your reaction to the pictures in the file it dawned on you how fucked this job was going to be. Shit, what in the hell have you gotten your sorry self into?

“Dayton, Ohio” She spoke after taking a seat again, “Four young women have gone missing and found dead near Eastwood Lake just north of the city. A fifth just went missing last night.”

“They went missing from local bars?” Spencer asked as he set the file down.

Penny nodded, “Each one from a different spot but all within a 5-mile radius downtown.”

“Ligature marks around the arms indicate being chained up or bound for some extended period of time.” Spencer rattled off studying the pictures. Taking a shallow breath, you looked back at the pictures of the young women. You’ve seen some fucked up things working with the FBI, but this was next level. These women were clearly tortured before whoever finally decided to kill them. The bruises, cuts, blood, and broken bones were not a sight many people could handle. A sight that reminded you of your past.

Acutely aware you were around profilers you lifted your head up to listen to the conversation that was unfolding around the table. You watched how they bounced ideas off of each other so effortlessly. How each idea was taken into consideration. They worked so flawlessly as a team. It was something you had yet to come across in your time with the Bureau.

“Lacerations to the left cheek on all of them.” You vaguely heard from Rossi as they all continued to converse. You watched in awe as the team did their thing. No wonder they were so well regarded. This felt like magic. They knew each other so well.

“No racial preference either. Seems to be targeting age. 25- to 35-year-old women in the Dayton and Beavercreek area.” Spenser’s voice chimed in again.

“Cause of death, asphyxiation to all the women. Possibly getting off to the torture?” Emily spoke up.

“What time did they go missing?” You asked skimming the file unaware that they all stopped their chatter keying in on you, “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked noticing the silence.

Derek shook his head with a little smirk, “Hardly.”

You looked back down not enjoying the attention, “Okay.” You were sure your face was beet red.

“Okay.” Hotchner brought his team back on track, “Jet’s leaving in 20. Y/L/N stay back for a moment.”

“Sure.” You nodded waiting for the team to disperse. Swiveling your chair back and forth you felt overly nervous to talk to the man. You’d heard the rumors about him before you got the BAU, and they seemed scarily accurate for the man. A hard ass that expected a lot from his team but would have your back in an instant, no questions asked. But what everyone failed to tell you was just how handsome the damn man was on top of it all. He was striking to you, exactly your type with his chocolate eyes and dark hair. It made talking to him a very nerve-wracking experience.

Just don’t think about how attractive you find him, and you’d be just fine. Easy, right?

When Penny walked out you turned to him, “What was that about?” You asked your boss as he took a seat next to you.

He gave you a look you couldn’t figure out before continuing the conversation, “It’s not often that somebody comes in and contributes right away. Much less a communications liaison.” You knew he wasn’t criticizing you for not being a profiler as everybody had their roles, but it felt like you’d overstepped.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

He shook his head interrupting you, “No, we need every idea out there. That’s the difference between brining somebody home to their family or not.”

You scanned his face quickly, hoping you weren’t caught studying him. But he was the infamous Aaron Hotchner of course he would notice. You needed to get your stupid brain in check, but damn did he have a nice jawline. A nice everything really.

Giving him a small smile, you nodded, “Gotcha.” You wanted to call him Hotch, but it felt too soon, like you were trying to be a part of a team that you weren’t apart of just yet.

He gave you a curt nod before standing, “Grab your go bag and follow me.”

Following him out to the jet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. His suit tailored to his body in all the right places was sending you into overdrive. You should not be having these unsavory thoughts of your fucking boss that you’ve known for less than an hour of your life. But you had to give credit where credit was due. He was fine. Far too fine to be your boss. You were just thankful that he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head.

You quietly followed him onto the plane spotting Derek and Emily sitting on the couch. You opted to sit across from them running fast from your boss. He was fine as hell but boy was he intimidating.

“Y/N.” Emily nodded, “Welcome to the team glad to have you. Even if you’re like… twelve years old.” She sat back smirking, proud of herself for that one. You weren’t giving much up and this was her solution to that. Get under your skin. She knew nobody could resist.

Derek snorted quickly placing a hand over his mouth, “Hey! I’m 28.” You shot a glare at Derek already feeling far too comfortable around the man. But that was just Derek, open and welcoming. An easy-going great man.

“I told you she was over 25!” Emily pointed at Derek.

He shrugged, “I was off a little.”

You stared at them with a wide-open mouth, “I’m sitting right here.”

Derek turned towards you, flashing you that brilliant smile, “That’s a good thing Y/N. Younger than you look.” He threw you a wink.

“Shut up pig.” You crossed your arms over your chest blankly staring at him.

Emily laughed happily at that. She loved when women shot Derek down. So often they were throwing themselves at him that it just caught her so off guard.

“I’m going to close my eyes over there.” You nodded to the back of the plane where the curtains were drawn. Making it a bit darker than the rest of the plane.

Derek looked at you with a slight glare, not a fan that you were bowing out so quick. He wanted to get to know the new girl, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache.” You gave him a small smile, “Happens sometimes.” You tried to give him as little information as possible. As soon as you opened the can of worms you knew you were toast. You were walking a literal tightrope right now. One little slip up and the entire thing would come crashing down on you.

“Alright, new girl. Go rest up. We aren’t done talking about you though.” He raised a brow as if to challenge you. Emily nodded glancing up from the magazine she decided to pull out a few moments prior.

Nervously laughing you stood, thankful that these guys didn’t really know you just yet or they’d see right on through you like the profilers they were, “I’m not that interesting Derek.”

“Au contraire.” Rossi spoke up setting his book down. Spinning in the seat from not that far away. This caught Hotch’s attention. He looked up from the files he was studying to see what the commotion was about. Damn, they really were always listening, weren’t they? “The less you say the more we want to know.” Rossi finished spinning back towards Hotch. You watched as they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

You felt your heart rate pick up speed, why didn’t you think of a better cover? “I promise you both, I’m kind of boring.” Was all you could think to say. Just digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“So, you think.” He picked his book back up not sparing a glance back in your direction.

You found a seat that butted up against the airplane wall that let you close your eyes in peace. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding into your head. The stress of the situation raised your blood pressure which meant your head was more susceptible to the piercing migraines that were new to your life. What you didn’t see was your boss watching your every move in quick glances, not going unnoticed by his confidant Rossi.

Ever since the attack you got headaches and migraines all the time. When you were stressed, or your blood pressure started to increase the migraines hit almost instantly. The doctors told you it was due to the increased blood flow to that area of the brain that will likely never heal completely. This was something you just had to live with.

The migraines you could deal with. What really sucked was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that often followed a severe migraine. It got so bad on a case once you ended up fainting from the dizziness that clouded your eyesight. You just had to keep your stress under control. That’d be easy to do at the BAU right? Sure.

You opened your eyes when the plane started to descend into Dayton. A bit shocked you actually fell asleep. Often you struggled falling asleep on a plane or in a car. Instead of joining in on the conversation between teammates you opted to listen in, instead of contributing. The migraine was faint but still there. Maybe this wasn’t the best switch for you. Maybe coming to the BAU was a mistake.

The team exited the plane quickly getting into the escort vehicles taking them to the police station. Enamored with the entire process you zoned out as the team did their normal routine. This was all so novel to you. The jet, the escort, the prestige of it all. You came from a low budget office in the high budget city of LA. This was nothing short of fascinating.

The day you had to ran started just like any other one. Your boyfriend of a few years was off to work early in the morning. He was a detective at the same police department you worked at working as the communications lead for the precinct. You went to work, did your thing before coming back to the shared house. When you walked through the front door it was eerily quiet. Seeing your boyfriend’s truck in the driveway you knew he was home though.

“Honey?” You called out while setting your bag down careful not to make too much noise as you knew he didn’t like it.

“Kitchen.” Your heart dropped out of your chest hearing the tone of voice that came out of his mouth. It was his ‘you fucked up you’re going to pay voice’. Looking down at your hands you noticed that the trembling had already started.

You felt so weak. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, defend yourself. You tried to get away, but he found you. You tried to get the people you worked with to understand what you were going through but they didn’t see it, they didn’t get it. They didn’t want to see it. They wanted to protect him. Your very own coworkers, literal police officers, wouldn’t even help you. You were stuck with him. You knew you had to get out you just couldn’t figure it out. He was going to kill you if you didn’t.

Walking slowly, you peeked your head through the entryway spotting your boyfriend sitting down at the table. You knew you were in trouble for something you just hadn’t a clue what set him off this time, “How was work?” You spoke up knowing this was happening one way or another.

He stood walking over to the sink, staring right at you, “It was great until I got home and found a fucking dish in the sink.” He nearly growled, irritation coursing through his veins.

Fuck, did you really forget to put your glass away? What a dumbass mistake, “I’m sorry I…”

“What did I fucking tell you about the dishes Y/N? Or are you just too fucking stupid to understand what I’m saying?” Raising his voice he took a step towards you, toying with you. Your whole body was trembling now. He was so terribly scary when he wanted to be and right now, he wanted to scare the living daylights out of you.

“No. I’m sorry I just forgot.” You looked down knowing it wasn’t a good excuse. Nothing was a good excuse when he wanted to hurt you. You knew he loved it. The sick bastard that he was.

“You forgot?” He laughed. A deep belly laugh that sent a shiver rippling through your entity. Feeling your hair getting pulled from above you let out a small yelp as he forced you to look at him, “Like the dumb bitch you are.” You felt the pain before it registered in your head what had happened. He threw a punch to the side of your face dropping you to the ground almost instantly. Feeling blood trickle down your face you couldn’t bear looking up at him. That’d leave a nasty bruise.

He placed his boot on your abdomen pressing down a little too hard. “Pathetic. Can’t even stay standing? Hmm?” His boot connected with your rib cage. A nasty crack and the immediate searing pain started radiating immediately. A small whine emanated from your mouth as you tried to take a breath, but the pain almost felt too unbearable. He definitely cracked a few of your ribs.

“Going to remember to put your fucking dishes in the dishwasher next time?” He let out a low chuckle. You were in trouble. This was different. He normally stopped before it had gotten this bad. He knew he couldn’t hurt you to the point you couldn’t work so that usually meant your face, arms and legs were off limits. Yet, he went for it this time. He never dared to used such force that bones actually broke.

“Yeah.” You mumbled out finding it hard to even breathe at the moment. Not that he would take that as an excuse.

“What was that?” He grabbed you by the hair again pulling you to your feet. You were sure he took a chunk of hair out as he did so.

“Ow, fuck!” You cried feeling your vision start to blur from the force of the pull. The cuss word just slipped out, but you knew better than to use that ‘language’ in front of him as it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ at all.

A look crossed his face that you were sure you’d never seen before. One that looked like he wanted to kill you right then. To get rid of you, “That’s it. I’ve tried with you. You’re hopeless.”

He grabbed you by your shoulders grasping down hard making sure it would leave marks, “You are nothing Y/N. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why won’t you leave me?” That might have been you’re biggest mistake to date with him. A slight twitch of his nostril made you realize just how fucked you were.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me.” Another punch but right to the nose sent you backwards into the wall. Black dots started dancing in your vision as you tried to stay upright. Blood started flowing down your face coating your shirt in the bright crimson.

“Then leave me.” You tasted the metallic blood that was pouring down your face. You were begging him now. It was now or never for you. He was either going to kill you or leave you. You couldn’t keep doing this.

Forcing you up against the wall with his hand around your neck he leaned in hard, making it hard to breath, whispering into your ear, “I’m never leaving you Y/N.” If you had any energy left tears might have rolled down your face but there was nothing left. You could hardly breathe from the kick to the ribs. He was restricting your airflow and you were starting to get faint, “You’re mine for forever, my dear.” He let his hand go from around your neck holding you up by the chest now. You sucked in a big breath only to be met with the excruciating pain radiating from your ribcage.

“Please.” You managed to look at him. Hoping to see any form of humanity behind his eyes. A small sob erupted when you realized how dark he had become.

Shaking his head he grabbed your upper arm, “No.” He squeezed forcing another short whine to escape your mouth, “Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

You nodded your head trying to reserve talking for only when it was needed as it hurt, “I asked you a fucking question!” He yelled in your face continuing to clamp down on your arm. Your hand began to tingle from the lack of blood flow.

“Ye.. yes.” You mumbled out feeling yourself about to slip into unconsciousness.

“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”

Eyes widening a bit you couldn’t comprehend it. Wasn’t this the punishment? Before you could speak up you felt him pull you away from the wall. Completely at his mercy you didn’t even have the strength to stand anymore let alone try to argue with him. He was literally the only thing keeping you standing as you moved away from the wall.

He didn’t think it all the way through this time though. When he threw his last punch to your abdomen, he didn’t account for you not having any strength to stop yourself. So, when he punched you, you went flying backwards right into the corner of the kitchen island countertop. The back of your head connected with the stone instantly knocking you unconscious instantly.

Waking up in a puddle of your own drying blood was something you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy. The metallic stench of the drying liquid sent chills down your spine as you took in your surroundings. Blinking rapidly a few times you realized it was eerily quiet again as you regained consciousness. The house was dark. Too dark to see anything.

A shallow breath in brought in pain which caused you to wince opening up the raw head wound that had sealed itself shut. Rolling onto your stomach and holding yourself up with your palms you saw how bad it really was. Blood spattered the white cabinets while there was a literal pool of blood that came from your head. It was a miracle you were even alive.

It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire as you attempted to stand only to be met with jelly legs. A quite cry broke from your chest realizing just how bad this really was. He just left you for dead. He didn’t even call an ambulance. He was just gone.

He never took it that far in the past. He had an appearance to uphold at the police department and you showing up with any sort of visible bruises would shatter that illusion. It was usually just slaps across the face or shoves into furniture. Never had he actually made you bleed like this, on the brink of death.

The worst thing about all of this was that in the beginning of your relationship he was one of the best partners around. You loved him with your life. Then the stress and the cracks started to form. At first, he found other outlets like video games or going to the bar. Then it became you. The hitting only started a few months prior. But this, this was exceptional. This was a crime scene.

Thanking your lucky stars that you never took off your jacket, your phone was still in the pocket. With your very last ounce of strength, you dialed 911 before succumbing to the darkness again.

Instead of actually finding him, the cops said he ran away. That all they could do was put some feelers out. You used to think the world of these guys but then you realized he was their priority. They would protect their brother before you. You were just a woman. He was their brother.

After spending a week in the hospital due to fracturing your skull you were immediately transferred to another department about three hours away. That was all they offered, a measly transfer. With a head raging of migraines that never seemed to leave you decided you’d have to take matters into your own hands. Coming across a Bureau job in Los Angeles you jumped at the opportunity and was hired almost immediately. You opted to hide your past from your coworkers, changing your last name was the easiest way to do so Sure, the FBI knew about the incident but not your co-workers. The less it was brought up the less you had to think about it.

You were running from your past and you didn’t really give a damn. It made you realize just how fucked up the situation you were in really was. You weren’t anything to anybody at that police department. Just a woman who happened to be in a relationship to one of their police brothers.

Lucky for you, you loved your job at the Bureau. And you excelled at it quickly. Often picking up extra work for your coworkers. When the job at the BAU opened up you jumped as quick as you could. The BAU was coveted in the FBI. If you could make it there you could make it literally anywhere.

The case was tough on you. Just yesterday they found the fifth victim. It was only a matter of time until the sixth was taken. The killer was picking up speed at an alarming rate. Going from once a month down to every other day. You were doing a decent job keeping your stress down and your migraines somewhat at bay. But any of these women could be you on a given night. It hit you like a truck when the fifth woman was found in a park. She was wearing an outfit you would’ve worn to go out with friends. She was out living her life twelve hours prior and now she was just gone. How sick life was.

Time for the worst part of your job, telling the police and the public in a press conference. Even though it sucked it needed to get done. The more that young women knew that this was happening the more alert people would be. You gave the profile during the press conference that the team had come up with. White male, in his early 30’s, likely of shorter and heavier build with deeply rooted emotional trauma due to growing up without a mother or mother like figure. His mother probably left him when she was in her early 30’s thus the reason for the victim age range. So typical. How often you ran across cases like this. This guy was just a little sneakier. Not as dumb as your typical run of the mill criminal.

You sat in the conference room studying the white board with all the victims posted across with all the fine details of their short lives. The rest of the team stepped out for lunch, but you just weren’t hungry. Not after delivering that news to the Dayton Ohio area.  Opting to just lose yourself in your thoughts instead.

You weren’t given much time to lose yourself before you heard a chair scrape the ground next to you. Looking up you were surprised to see your boss sitting down next to you with a snack in hand.

“No lunch?”

“No, not hungry.” You gave him a half smile trying to knock yourself out of this mini funk. You thought you were prepared. You read all the case files. You talked to all the experts. But damn, when you were middle of doing it, it was like nothing you could’ve expected.

Feeling your personal phone buzz, you looked down while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Opening your phone and clicking the little messages icon you frowned not recognizing the number that texted you. Your mouth immediately ran dry as adrenaline started pumping through your body. One text. One fucking text you never ever wanted to see.

‘I know where you are.’

Your heart rate sped right up which would lead to inevitable migraine. Fuck. There was a chance it wasn’t him but who else could it be? He loved to do this kind of shit to you back when you were together. Completely fucking with your mind.

“Everything okay?” You heard your boss faintly ask as you couldn’t rip your eyes away from your phone screen. Blinking rapidly, you had to remember where you were. You were working. You couldn’t worry about that right now. This was a later problem. Block it and move on. Besides, it was getting embarrassing how many fucking times the team had to ask if you were okay. You needed to knock it off and soon.

“Y/L/N.” You heard more sternly this time.

“Yes?” You locked the screen shoving it into your pocked. Out of sight out of mind. Right?

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head trying to play it off as cool as you possibly could, “Nothing Hotch.” You finally felt comfortable enough to call him that. I suppose when you hunt killers and study dead bodies you tend to bond faster than you would in any other job.

He gave you an exasperated look, “You do realize I profile people for a living.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “It’s nothing. They’re just so young.” You pointed your head towards the white board. You couldn’t let him know about your past. It was almost too fucking embarrassing to admit. You thought you were strong. Clearly not strong enough to leave him before he nearly killed you. And Aaron Hotchner just might be the strongest person you have ever met in your life.

In the brief time that you’d known him you’d learned all about his past from his coworkers. How he was stabbed, lost his ex-wife and was still here doing this damn thing as a single father. His strength was unparalleled to anything you had known. So, to admit your past to him was something you were far too scared to do. The worst thing would be to be seen as weak to Aaron Hotchner.

He nodded looking you over. Something he seemed to do far too often that made you feel things you really shouldn’t be feeling, “Is that all?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded refusing to look at him but instead at the victims. Hoping you were selling yourself well enough. He didn’t believe you. He was a profiler, a damn good one at that. He knew something was on that phone. Something you were refusing to tell him.

“It’s tough.” He admitted setting his cheese crackers down turning his body towards you, “This is not and will never be an easy job Agent Y/L/N. It’ll probably be some of the most gruesome work that you’ll be in the thick of. But let me tell you something. When you get to save one of those girls or any innocent victim it changes you. You know you saved them from something so horrific, something that no innocent human should go through. And that makes it all worth it. I can promise you that.”

A little shell shocked that he dropped that bomb on your lap you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “Thank you Hotch.” Looking up to him you continued, “Really, thank you. This is… brutal. I thought I knew what I was signing up for.”

“You can step away at any time. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but we really did hire you for a reason. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could do it.”

Those damn butterflies erupted in your stomach as he looked you over to make sure the message really sank in, “I can do it. I just have to adjust.”

A small smile formed on his face. You had to assume that was a rare sight for the team as it caught you off guard. He looked so damn handsome with a smile on his face. Something you wanted to see far more than you already had in the few days you’d been on the case with the team.

He stood grabbing his crackers, “Good. If you need anything. Really. Anything. Please, don’t be afraid to ask. Alright?”

You nodded rapidly, “Got it Hotch. Thank you.”

“Sure. I need to go talk to the chief. Try and grab some food?”

“Yeah, sure.” You threw him a smile as he walked out of the room. God, you were fucked if this was how we was going to treat you. Already so attracted to just his physical appearance and then he pulls that out? What’s not to love.

Deciding to listen to him you grabbed an apple and a snack from the vending machine to suffice his request. Sitting back down you opted to refresh your conference notes, getting prepped for your next press conference. You needed to get in contact with the latest victim’s family for Hotch too. Spending the rest of lunch, you decided to knock out your needed tasks to make him happy. To let him know that he did hire the right person. You could do this.

“How was your date with Hotch?” Derek asked as he and Spencer walked back into the conference room after they got back from lunch. Completely interrupting your silence that you were enjoying.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was only trying to work you up. You quickly learned that Derek was the type to tease you. His form of love.

“What are you on about?” You gave him a quizzical look. Hoping to come off as dumb as possible.

“Don’t play dumb.” He sat in the chair right across from you.

Cocking your head to the side you only looked at him curiously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Derek.”

This time Spencer spoke up, “It is uncommon that Hotch stayed back. But you are brand new. He could have just been checking in on her.”

“See,” You raised your eyebrows to let him know Spencer was the right one, “Dr. Reid is correct. He was just checking in on his new employee.”

Derek rolled his eyes this time, much more dramatically than you, “Sure, whatever you say Y/L/N.”

“Although,” Reid spoke up again. You snapped your head around in a panic. He was not supposed to say anything further to egg Derek on, “He has been watching you quite a lot. I noticed it when we were back at Quantico. Then when you were asleep on the jet. And really during this whole case…”

“Boy genius!” Derek laughed clapping him on the back. Spencer just looked back and forth between the two of you knowing he said something you didn’t like as you gave him a less than impressed look. Derek was grinning ear to ear, eating all this shit right on up.

You shook your head, “Because I’m new!”

“And oh, so pretty too.” Derek’s smile only grew wider, if possible, when you blushed a bright shade of tomato red. You just loved how your body exposed you of your emotions.

“Shut up. Does not. Drop it.” Grumbling, you turned away from both of them.

Spencer leaned back silently observing Derek’s picking on you. He didn’t really think much of it at first. But once he saw Hotch’s wondering eyes over and over again, he had to make a mental note of it. He didn’t act this was when he started or when Penny started. It only seemed to be reserved for you.

Spencer had a silent conversation with Rossi as he caught Hotch staring at you when you were sleeping on the plane. Rossi only smiling. Rossi knew something.

“Seems like you might have a little crush too.” Derek made a kissy face. This was a nightmare. Sure, you may have a small little crush, but he was your fucking boss. Hell would have to freeze over before anything could happen between the two of you.

“Do not.”

“Yeah see,” Derek leaned forward, “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Derek only smiled, “We’ll be watching.”

“Go for it.”

Your personal phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking much of it you pulled it out of your seeing that same number from earlier pop up again. Opening the message your heart might’ve stopped right then and there.

‘You can’t hide Y/N. I know where you are and I’m coming. Virginia? Really?’

You forgot the two of them were sitting there as you read the text over and over again. Burning the God forsaken image into your mind. How? How could he have found you. Why now? Why almost a year later? You wanted to block the number, but you knew he’d just find another way to get ahold of you. You also knew you needed to show the police and fast. But then that’d expose you completely. Open up everything.

“You good Y/N?” Derek asked ripping you right back into the present.

“Yeah, just thinking about those girls.” You lied hoping you were a good enough actor to get you out of this one.

He nodded, “it’s hard. To view them as both human and try and distance yourself. You’ll figure it out. We all did. It might be tomorrow. It might be in a few months. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks Derek.” You sighed fully accepting their fate. That you could move on from. But the horror of being stalked by your ex unfortunately loomed in the back of your mind.

Spencer smiled enjoying the interaction between new friends. He liked you. Derek seemed to like you. Hotch seemed to like like you. And Rossi was bound to adore you if Hotch did. Emily of course would hate you at first and then grow to love you. You were in.

The rest of the team worked tirelessly until the sun went down. Hotch ordered the team back to the hotel demanding a good night’s sleep. You knew it wouldn’t come. It hadn’t come in the almost week you’d been in the horror show.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever you knew you had to get out. Get away for a moment. Everything felt so suffocating. You guys couldn’t do it. Weren’t able to save the fifth girl. She showed up that morning and you knew that night he’d probably have another. Fuck, why was the world so cruel?

So, you might’ve done the dumbest damn thing that you’ve ever done and called an Uber to take you to the bar down the street. You knew you shouldn’t of. Or at least let somebody know where you were going but you just needed to get away. One or two drinks couldn’t have hurt.

That was until you were sipping on your third drink feeling a little too good. You were people watching enjoying the music that was pumping throughout. Eyes on the group of young women having a good time you didn’t see the man come sit next to you.

“Come here often?”

Turning to your right, the man sitting on the barstool next to you waited for your response. Giving him a quick once over you knew something was not right with him. Your gut was screaming at you to turn the other way.

“No.” You tried your best to ignore him, but he just kept talking. Not taking your silence as a no.

“That’s a shame. So pretty.” His slimy eyes trailed your body. A small shiver went down your spine. Trust your gut. If there was one thing you were taught, it’s to always trust your gut. You took a peek at the man. Young man who was short, fat and creeping on a young girl at night? The same night your unsub would be hunting his sixth victim? Could it be him? Could you be so lucky?

“I’m not interested.” You kept your eyes forward carful now. You had to figure out if it was him.

He really didn’t know how to take no for an answer, “Don’t be so harsh beautiful. It’ll only age you quicker.”

“Look I don’t need some guy with mommy issues telling me how I should live my life. Please just go away.” Moms made him mad. This had to be it.

He gave you a sickening smile, “I didn’t have a mommy. So how can I have mommy issues dear?”

This was your unsub. Had to be. Trust your gut, right? Of all the fucking people in the world to get approached by it was him? Jesus. It then hit you that you were his next victim, or so he thought. He targeted you to take down. Damn, what were the odds of that?

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“Oh, come on beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. It’s free and if you want me to leave after I will.” You needed to keep him talking. If he was talking to you that meant he wasn’t talking to another girl.

“Sure, let me just go freshen up really quick while you get the drinks.” You gave the creep a half smile deciding this would be the perfect time to call Hotch. The longer you took his attention the better chance that he wouldn’t escape. It had to be him. His profile down to his absent mother was nearly perfect.

Hands shaking you begrudgingly typed in Hotch’s number. He was going to absolutely lose it. But you were sure, this had to be the guy. He was short, stalky, and talked like the most misogynistic fuck you’d ever been around. It had to be him. You so wished you weren’t three long island iced teas down though your brain felt a little hazy. Hitting the call button, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he answered.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey.. hey boss.” You sucked in a breath knowing how awkward you sounded. Fuck, why was this so hard?

“Agent Y/L/N.” He sounded more alert now. You glanced at the time only to curse that it was already one in the morning. You’d been out far too late, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m at a bar and…”

“You’re what?” He sounded pissed raising his voice only a little. Oh well. This was more important.

You sighed and continued. Letting him know you were irritated that he interrupted you, “I’m at a bar. I needed to clear my head and I think the unsub might or might not be trying to take me home. If you know what I mean.” You wanted to giggle but you knew that’d set the overprotective man off. You weren’t feeling so hot.

You heard rustling in the background. He must be getting up, “The unsub? What? Stay there. Send me your location.” He was trying to process all this information as you so casually told him what was going on. How were you so calm? Were you fucking with him?

“Yeah, okay. I’m in the bathroom, I…”

“Stay there. Stay on the phone.” It sounded like a growl. He was pissed. More than pissed. You didn’t even know the man that well and you knew he was going to lay into you for this.

“Okay.” You felt the alcohol kick it into high gear now. At least, you’d hopped it was only alcohol that was making it hard to concentrate. But this didn’t feel like an alcohol buzz. This felt like your body slowly shutting down.

“Y/L/N!” He yelled on the phone. You must have spaced out. Fuck. Maybe he did put something in your drink. You weren’t usually so spacey.

“Yes, sorry?”

“I asked you how you know it’s him? The unsub?”

“Oh, uhm yeah.” The walls started spinning. Trying to regain your focus only to be met with a splitting migraine, “Shit.” You groaned. Your head felt far too heavy for this just to be alcohol.

“Y/N. What’s going on?” He sounded a bit panicked. You felt horrible for doing this to him but boy were you glad he was on the other end of this phone call right now.

You sat yourself down on a toilet locking the door in front of you hoping this would pass soon, “Hotch, I think he drugged me.” You were so good with your drink though. Never letting it out of your sight. How in the hell could he have slipped something?

You heard some muffled sounds from the other end of the line. It only sounded like him though, “I’m three minutes away. Are you in a safe spot?” His panic ridden voice almost sounded like it was going to break. You’d only known the man for a week now, but you’d grown somewhat close to him. You probably talked to him more than anybody on your team, being the communications liaison and all. Not only did you guys just click it felt so natural and normal to want to be around him. To push his buttons in the best way.

“Yeah, yeah,” Your head began slumping against the stall feeling heavier than it really was. Fucking fuck. What in the hell, “Locked in a bathroom stall.” You mumbled knowing you weren’t going to be terribly coherent here soon.

Moments felt like a lifetime. Then the bathroom door flew open. It didn’t feel right though. Didn’t feel like Hotch.

“Hotch?”

“Who in the hell is Hotch?” That voice from the bar rang out. Eyes wide you knew you didn’t have much time or quite frankly any strength to fight this guy off. Even if you were the same height.

“What are you doing in here? Get out!” You managed to spit out. The brain fog seemed to momentarily lift in the sheer panic of the situation you managed to find yourself in.

“I thought you ran off on me. It’s time to go.” You heard the door handle jiggle back and forth. Pulling your legs to your chest you sat all the way back on the toilet seat. Fucking hell. How was this your life?

“I’m not leaving with you.” You tried to sound confident, but it came out sounding weak and afraid. Just like you were. Terribly weak. Horrifically afraid.

“Oh honey. But you are.”

“She’s not.” You heard your bosses voice and the click of a loaded gun, “You have the right to remain silent…” Hotch went off on his spiel only for you to lose yourself to your thoughts again. Taking big, ragged breaths it hit you just how close to death you were yet again.

“Y/N, can you open the door?” It was him. Hotch. Thank God.

You weren’t too far gone just yet. Lifting your head from the stall door you managed to stand on your own. Slowly you unlocked the door. Hotch nearly kicked the door into you as he was eager to check you over. He needed to confirm that you were okay. He knew he had to reprimand you for this behavior, but it wasn’t the time. You looked petrified. Scared. He knew you’d never really be the same. How could somebody be once they know they were the target of literal murder? Hotch just didn’t know you’d been through this before though. That this wasn’t even the craziest thing that had happened to you this year.

After checking you over and not saying a damn word he ushered you to the ambulances that were lined up outside. You felt a disgusting wave of embarrassment knowing they were called for you. If there was one thing you had hated it was being the damn center of attention. Fucking hell. You had to talk about this in a press conference too. Your job just got a whole lot more interesting.

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I don’t need to go…”

“Not a word Agent.” He shut you down so quickly and harshly you shut right on up. The man of very few words was giving you even less than you were used to. You royally fucked this one up. Hopefully you had a job once you got back to Quantico.

Your hands trembled before you knocked on his office door. Hotch had asked you to hang back and meet him in his office after the jet had landed. The team gave you sorrowful looks as they exited. You knew you were in trouble. But damn, did they have to look like they were going to your funeral.

You heard a faint, “Come in.” Only to be met with a stoic Hotch sitting at his desk.

Quickly, you sat in the chair in front of him just waiting. Fuck. This almost felt worse than disappointing your ex. Hotch actually meant something to you.

“What were you thinking?” He asked far too calmly.

“I wasn’t sir, I…”

He stood up not daring to look down at you, “I told you all to go to bed. To get some sleep. And you go to the bar? What the hell were you thinking?” He undid his tie. Already frustrated

“But sir I..”

“I’m talking.” He raised his voice a notch. Enough for you to back down. Not daring to look up to him your heart began to race. How awful this all felt. It was one thing to upset you ex but to disappoint Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m sorry... I”

He raised his voice, a little too loudly now, “You disobeyed direct orders Agent! Do you know what that means? That means you could have died out there. Do you understand me?”

You shrunk within yourself brining yourself right back to that night. God how you wish your brain didn’t work like this but here you were. You weren’t in Hotch’s office at the BAU nope, you were in that kitchen. The night you almost died. The night your ex tried to kill you. You heard those chilling words.

“Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

Bringing your knees to your chest you couldn’t stop the stupid fat tears that raced down your face. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. But God damn did it hurt. Your ex said those same damned words right to your face.

“I’m so…” You tried to breath, but you couldn’t. You took short rapid breaths just trying to fucking breath. What in the hell was happening to you? It felt like your lungs were collapsing in on you.

Aarons eyes softened as he saw the tears begin to flow. He didn’t mean to make you cry. You were so different than the rest of the team. The rest of the would have brushed him off or rolled their eyes. But then you broke down. You looked panicked. Like you were in a different world.

“Y/L/N?” He asked hoping to bring you back to this planet. But you were gone.

He walked over to you crouching down, “Y/N.” He knew he couldn’t speak to loudly. That seemed to set you off the first time. He had to go about this differently. He began to reach out to touch you only to met with the panicked version of you he’s seen.

“Don’t touch me!” You jumped out of your chair somehow finding your breath after all of this. You couldn’t let him get near you. He’d hurt you. Just like your ex. Just like the guy at the fucking bar the other night.

“Y/L/N.” He backed off putting his hands above his head as you sat down against the wall, “You’re having a panic attack

“Just stop!” You covered your face with your hands bringing your knees close to your chest. It felt so hard to breath.

Aaron took a few steps closer careful not to overstep but when you saw him you about lost him. He wasn’t Hotch he was your ex coming to take you out for good this time.

“Please.” You put your hand up to stop him. He noticed your trembling hand that asked him to stop. This was a response he never had expected. You’d been so guarded he hadn’t a clue what this could be from. Aaron was used to trauma. That was his field. Trauma and more trauma. It saddened him to know that you’d been through something that could make you so blasé to the fact that you’d almost been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered the other night. Whatever it was he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a response to that same trauma.

“I’m sorry.” He stopped again sitting on the ground. He watched as you struggled to breathe. He wanted to wrap you in his arms so desperately it hurt. It was painful to watch you struggle. God, he wanted to be there for you. He shouldn’t have felt this way about a subordinate. About one his employees. About somebody so much younger than him. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Ever since you came in for that damned interview he was hooked.

He wasn’t mad at you more so the situation. He knew the odds of that happening were one in millions. But of course, you were that one in a million chance. He knew how gorgeous you were. It wasn’t a surprise per say but the thought of actually losing you after not even getting the chance to know you hurt him. He only scratched the surface of you, and he was enamored. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get to know the real you.

All you saw was him. Your stupid ex sitting there taunting you. Waiting for you to slip up. You just kept trying to fucking breath, but it wasn’t happening.

“Y/N.” He spoke again.

Shaking your head you couldn’t take it, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He frowned letting himself become small now, “It’s me. Aaron. Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes flicked up to him as you cowered against the wall. He was Aaron. Not your stupid fucking ex. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“It’s me. Can I please come closer?” He begged sitting there waiting. Waiting for the second you would let him.

You nodded continuing your short breathes. Aaron Hotchner. He was a friend. He was okay. God damn. You couldn’t believe you were reacting like this. It just happened. You didn’t even have a thought to stop it. Your mind took yourself back to that kitchen a year ago.

Slowly he scooted closer reaching out to you, “it’s okay. I promise. Try and take a deeper breath, okay? On the count of three?”

You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“One. Two. Three.”

Somehow, someway he was able to get you to calm down. With slow counts and patience, you eventually managed to get your breathing back to normal. Taking long slow breaths you couldn’t bear to look up to the man. How fucking embarrassing was all of this.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely spoke.

“Nothing to apologize for Y/N. Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” You still couldn’t look up. So ashamed.

Feeling his arm wrap around your back you closed your eyes letting him take you in. He pulled you into his chest wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tightly, he dropped one hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair trying to make you feel a bit better. He couldn’t imagine the agony you must be in. He wished he could just take it and throw it all away for you. He was in far too deep. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“It’s okay.” You replied softly letting your head fall against his chest. Whatever embarrassment you felt washed away as you breathed him in. He just felt like comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“But” you paused taking another breath. Whatever, he should know why you were as fucked as you really were. So, you told him everything. All the nitty gritty details. He listened. Squeezed you when you were slow to continue. To encourage you.

Once you finished, he paused taking everything in. He was shocked the world could be so cruel to someone as gentle as yourself. How could anybody be so awful. How could they not see how wonderful you really were?

“Thank you for telling me.” You nodded, “Sure. Just don’t think any less of me?”

“Never. Come on, let’s get you home.” He stood reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded letting him pull you up, “Thank you Hotch.”

“Jack’s gone for the night. Stay with me tonight in my guest room? I think you’ll sleep better.” He asked which came out more as of a demand.

You could only nod letting yourself fall into him, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Can you walk?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Aaron. I’m not inept.”

He chuckled softly, “That sounds nice.”

You turned towards him with a big cheesy grin feeling stupidly giddy all of the sudden, oh how this man got you so quickly, “Oh yeah?”

He nodded reaching for your hand, “Come on now.”

“Sounds good, Aaron.” You took his hand happily.

Part 2

@senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fic #criminal minds #emily prentiss #ssa hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #agent hotchner #hotch #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #derek morgan

[kikyan]

Hellfire

Cw: Yandere content means Yandere content y’all, dub-con, stalking, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, Father/Priest! Rollo (AS IN PRIEST NOT INCEST), masturbation, body worship, oral (GN! Reader receiving), fingering, riding, religious themes, etc

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Pairing: Rollo x GN! Reader 

Words: 9.5K 

A/N: Everyone look at your calendars and do you see how in reality it isn’t a New Year but rather Halloween and this Halloween special is coming out on the day it was meant to and not almost 3 months later? Fantastic, moving on. . .enjoy :)) 

A/N2: I want to preface this by saying that this fic does have religion/religious themes. This is not an accurate portrayal either, so please do not come for me-! I did grow up catholic but in my teen years became a full atheist so anything said in this fic is me recalling my childhood. Also, I googled bible verses because I don’t remember any and they were all in Spanish so, yeah. . .enjoy! :))

The bells rang throughout Fleur City, signaling the start of Sunday mass. The crowd gathered, rushing to find any available seats to sit down on. Those unfortunate would have to stand, as they did not dare miss the mass. Father Rollo was an exceptional man, his voice and words rang throughout the church and captivated everyone who was blessed to be in his presence. He handled himself professionally, standing with an upright posture and his head was always looking ahead. He was truly a man befitting to be god's messenger. Fleur City was fortunate to have Father Rollo, he was a man adored by his people and [Reader] was no different. They were locked on Father Rollo who strutted with confidence,

 “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you” 

His eyes locked with [Reader]. They broke away from his eyes but could still feel his piercing eyes on them. 

“I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” 

Cheers erupted from within the church the moment he finished his sentence. Mass was shortly concluded after the church staff asked for donations. Plenty of people offered whatever they could spare, but it was appreciated. The church was emptying but a few others stayed behind to have a few words with Father Rollo. [Reader] stayed seated but looked over at Father Rollo from the corner of their eye. He was attending to the people and their needs, he truly was a virtuous man. They averted their gaze when they saw Father Rollo turn to them. He bid goodbye to the troubled crowd. His heeled shoes echoed loudly through the emptying church, stopping in front of [Reader]. 

“[Reader], good morning. How have you been?” 

“Oh. . good morning, Father Rollo. I’ve been well, how about you?” 

“It has been a pleasant morning so far and I can only pray that it shall remain that way. Though I will say, it’s certainly comforting knowing you’re here. I did not see you anywhere last week.” 

“R-Right. . .my apologies. It certainly wasn’t my intention to miss last week’s mass, but I’m afraid I did end up catching a cold. It has since passed and I feel quite better.” 

“ You ought to take care of yourself, [Reader]. It would be a shame if something terrible happened to you. You are, after all, our number one devotee here at the Church. It would be rather quiet and lonely if you were to go.” 

“Ha ha, it was only a cold Father Rollo, not the plague. I assure you, I am fine. Besides, I’m pretty strong enough to handle an illness.” 

[Reader] returned a smile to Rollo, whose face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows furrowed upwards in un-amusement.  

“That you are, you have God’s protection as one of his children. Alas, I must be off. Till next we meet, [Reader].” 

Rollo turned around and left the main hall, leaving [Reader] alone. It was only for a split second, but he turned around to gaze at them again. 

~ 

[Reader] was in love with Rollo. Their greatest sin that would be known to the dead once they passed. They remember their first meeting, plain as day, unlike that stormy night where this story takes place. 

There was a storm and it was pouring. The kind that people were warned to stay indoors because of the severity, yet here [Reader] was running to the middle of the town where the church lay. Their face was coated in rainwater which made it almost impossible to keep their eyes open, they were struggling to breathe, and the cold that accompanied the storm did little to help. They were staggering over to the Church. 

“[READER!] GET BACK HERE NOW AND I MIGHT FORGIVE YOU!” 

Panic rose and they didn’t dare look back, for if they did, surely it would be their last. They didn’t dare scream for help, because they knew their cries would be drowned by the storm. They finally made it to the center, running up the stairs of the cathedral, and lunged to the door. No surprise that it was locked. 

“[READER]! STOP!”

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE! SANCTUARY, PLEASE GIVE ME SANCTUARY!” 

[Reader] pleaded and began to hit the doors with all their might. The person who was no doubt chasing after them continued their pursuit. They were approaching the steps and soon, close enough to reach out to [Reader]. Just in the nick of time, the door opened enough for [Reader] to throw themselves inside. They landed on the cold stone floors and used whatever strength they had to scramble away from the door. They looked up to see a skinny man with a pale face, green-blue eyes, dark bags under his eyes, and silver hair behind the door. He was adorned in an ankle-long robe and wore black-heeled loafers. His outfit certainly was nothing too fancy, then again it was the middle of the night. 

“S-Sanctuary! P-please, give me sanctuary!” 

“What seems to be the matter-!?” 

The man turned to them but was cut from the person chasing after [Reader]. 

“[Reader]! C’mere, now.” 

The anger in his voice disappeared but there was sternness laced in his request. The silver-haired man turned to the other person. The storm showered them, and the mud that they tracked in did not go unnoticed by the silver-haired man. 

“Forgive me. My name is Rollo Flamme, I am one of the priests here. May I ask what seems to be the issue? I certainly did not expect there to be anyone leisuring out in the streets with the storm raging outside.” 

The silver-haired man, now named ‘Rollo’, asked. Rollo turned to the person outside with an unamused expression. 

“Father Rollo, pardon the intrusion. You see, that person over there is named [Reader], they're my partner. My partner also suffers from an unstable state of mind. It would be best if we returned-!?” 

“Father Rollo, is everything alright?” 

They all turned to look at an elderly woman who no doubt worked for the church. Rollo shook his head and the woman took it as a sign to approach the door. 

“Everything is alright here, there is no need for the both of you to concern yourselves over our issues. Me and [Reader] would be taking our leave-!?” 

“I think not. It would be against everything we stand for if we turned away someone who came to this holy place and asked for sanctuary. I apologize, but I’ll be asking for you to leave. Madam, take this one,” 

Rollo turned to face [Reader], 

“This one inside. Run them a warm bath and please get them a fresh set of clothes. As for you, sir. . please leave.” 

[Reader’s] partner scoffed and stepped forward, 

“I wouldn’t recommend that.” 

He stopped after Rollo’s warning. Soon, others started to arrive within the church, including the guards. [Reader’s] partner glared at Rollo but decided against their actions. They just scoffed and went outside. The church’s door was shut and locked following his departure. 

[Reader] had been sitting on the floor, trying to steady their breathing. Rollo walked over to them and helped them off their feet. 

“You’re safe here in the house of God, he cannot hurt you any longer.” 

Rollo then walked away, moving people to their station leaving [Reader] alone with the Madam. 

“Come child, let’s get you out of those freezing clothes and into a warm bath.” 

That was the first time they met Rollo. 

Several weeks later, [Reader] was still within the church and assisting in any way they could. They would sometimes join the community in cleaning the church, making meals to provide during the holidays, and so forth. They were currently helping the volunteers make bread until Rollo arrived in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Father Rollo! How may we assist you?” 

The elderly woman asked Rollo, who turned to face her. 

“Good morning, Madam. I see you’re all hard at work assisting the church so I won’t take up too much of your time. May I speak with [Reader]?” 

At the mention of their name, [Reader] perked up. The Madam turned to them and asked, 

“Of course, is that alright?” 

[Reader] nodded, dropping their task and washing their hands. They turned to look at Rollo who nodded, 

“This way, please.” 

Rollo led the way to his office and closed the door once they were both inside. He turned to them and offered the chair across from his. 

“Sit, please. Good morning, [Reader]. How are you this morning?” 

“Father Rollo. . .great. This morning has been great so far, busy but no complaints from me yet! How about yours?” 

“Fine, busy as well but such is life as God’s servant. Now, I wanted to discuss some things with you. The man that pursued you when you arrived at our doorsteps, I presume you would be content knowing that he has since left the town. He is no longer residing in Fleur City.” 

[Reader] let out a sigh of relief, since the day they arrived at the steps of the cathedral they have been residing within it. All housing was provided by the church as well as their meals. They weren’t expected to assist with the chores at the church, but they felt it was the least they could do. They would leave to go into town occasionally but always went with a guide or a guard in case anything happened. Rollo had made arrangements for them to avoid any further issues. They weren’t aware that their partner who had tormented them relentlessly had left the city or had any plans to. 

“Thank you. . . Father Rollo. I appreciate you informing me.” 

“ Of course, now that he has permanently left Fleur City we can arrange to get you a small place within the city. Don’t worry, if you still wish to assist the Church it will be nearby and the place will be within the guard's post. The area will be carefully monitored and maintained.” 

“Father Rollo. . that’s too much. I appreciate all you have done since that day, but asking for my living quarters would be too much-!” 

“Nonsense. You requested sanctuary from the church and since then, we have worked hard to provide that for you. It’s no trouble at all, you’re a precious child of God after all and he never abandons his children.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was deep in thought. A place to stay without the haunting memories of their partner who could care less about them. [Reader] turned their gaze to Rollo and smiled, 

“Thank you for your kindness, Father Rollo.” 

From then, [Reader] had been living in the house provided by the church. Their place was warm and cozy, but most importantly, theirs. As days went by, [Reader] continued to attend weekly mass and stayed behind to help the community with events. Though Rollo was a well-known priest, he certainly wasn’t the only one present in the cathedral. The community had gotten together to thank the priests and were thinking of how to repay each one. The madam took the request and decided to host a small celebration for them with food and games for the community. 

The entire town was invited to attend and they did, for there was no greater honor than celebrating their townsmen. Rollo stood in the center, overseeing the event rather than partaking in it like the other priests. He saw how his colleagues engaged with the town, his eyes were trained on them. They had no problem mingling with others and taking the front while Rollo chose to stay behind. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, Father Rollo?” 

He turned to the voice, it was [Reader]. 

“I am, but conversing with others isn’t something I do quite well at. I leave that task, to the others. What about you, [Reader]?” 

“Oh, I am as well. I too, don’t tend to mingle with others, at least not in events like this. It’s still taking me a while to adjust to being in control of my own life.” 

Rollo spared a glance at [Reader] who sadly reminisced. Their partner would often take control of the conversation and not allow [Reader] to speak. They would often leave [Reader] in social gatherings to fend for themselves and never acknowledge their feelings. After a while and per their adored partner’s request, stopped leaving their shared home. This resulted in [Reader] self-isolating.  

“I see. Often, just being in the company of someone you trust is more than enough at events like these. However I do hope that moving forward, we can heal from the past.” 

Socializing wasn’t his strong suit; if he did, it was always formal and respectful. There was no time for jokes or silly banter, that is why Rollo helped Fleur City behind the scenes. He handled all formal matters while the others tended to the city with their words and charisma. Even now, his words of comfort were formal and didn’t properly convey his feelings. 

“One day, I will join the crowd again and this time, maybe I can take you with me, Father Rollo. Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” 

Rollo faced [Reader] who was looking into their pocket. 

“Here! I know it doesn’t mean much and it’s certainly a very cheap gift, but I want to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you’ve done, Father Rollo. Without you, I don’t think I would be here with the Madam and the Town, so thank you.” 

He looked at his hands to see a wine-red handkerchief with purple embroidery on the outer edges, his name was woven into the corner. It was a simple gift really, but the difference with most gifts that he received was that this was hand-made. Handmade with love, love from the person that he cared the most about. Rollo stammered, 

“T-Thank you, I shall keep this with me at all times. It’s lovely, [Reader].” 

[Reader] turned to see his eyes gazing deeply at theirs. It was different, unlike a small expression of gratitude with professionalism laced Rollo’s eyes betrayed him. Behind his eyes, desire and love peeked through, even if it was for a split moment. 

“Of course. . .my pleasure, Father Rollo.” 

Rollo was called shortly after to attend to a matter within the cathedral, but before parting from [Reader], he promised he would return promptly. Rollo left and attended the matter fairly quickly, but before leaving to meet up with [Reader], he walked to his office. Locking the door, he took out the handkerchief and brought it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent from it. 

‘[Reader]’ 

Rollo recalled the memory of when he first laid eyes on them. It wasn’t anything too special, he was just in town when he stumbled upon them. Rollo has observed throughout his life all the filth from others and their actions. [Reader] had remained a pure innocent soul devoid of any sins. 

‘ Humans are sinful creatures and  that is why we exist. . .’ 

Rollo had engraved that concept into his mind. There are 7 sins within mankind - pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, sloth, greed, and lust. Humans will lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and take advantage of others for personal greed. In reality, society has failed itself and remains to be a stain on this world. [Reader] was a positive chum, but was a sight to behold in a world of sin. 

Rollo was walking through town, which was a rare sight considering the only place you could glance at him would be in the cathedral. He noticed hidden behind a stall that there was a child, looking confused and scared. 

‘ No doubt lost.’ 

Rollo thought to himself but did not step forward just yet. He recalled a conversation he had with the Madam, a woman whom he respected as she was not like the others either. She had devoted herself to the church and helping others after the passing of her husband.  She would confess that no human was free of sin, but that didn’t mean that they were undeserving of God’s love and a place in his kingdom. It was silly, but he remembered what he told her after, 

“You’re right Madam, everyone is worthy of God’s love. Though do not underestimate humanity’s free will, some of them choose to sin and relish in their filth.”  

The madam shook her head and reminded Rollo that he should not be so quick to place judgment on others, but it was futile.��

He recalled that memory as he saw the scene displayed in front of him, a defenseless child turning to adults begging for help. Those same ‘adults’ had brushed the child off and some even as far to push the child away. 

“P-Please, I can’t find my mommy-” 

“Not interested.” 

“Stay clear of the road! Damn, brats. . .” 

‘Are these the same people who deserve God’s love, Madam?’

Rollo began walking to the child but stopped when he noticed another individual walk up to the child, 

“My name is [Reader], are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” 

The child nodded and [Reader] lightly brushed the tears that were forming away, 

“I see, well let me try to help you find them. When did you see them last?” 

“I saw my mommy over there. . .” 

The child pointed towards the growing crowd. In theory, this mother could be anywhere but if she was observant then no doubt she noticed her child missing. [Reader] nodded and held out their hand to the child, asking permission to hold their hand. The child allowed it, letting [Reader] lead them into the crowd. The child's grip tightened, afraid to lose their newfound savior. Rollo followed them, wanting to make sure that this child wasn’t going to be kidnapped. He saw how ‘[Reader]’ was holding onto the child and stopping in the area, asking the child if they saw their mother. When the child shook their head, [Reader] would begin calling out if someone lost their child. The town was busy and [Reader’s] cries were lost to the wind, but they did not lose their determination. After half an hour, Rollo heard a woman frantically calling out what was probably the child's name as the child perked up at the mention of it. [Reader] carefully maneuvered their way across the crowd to reunite the mother and child. Rollo witnessed the scene of the mother and child holding each other close, the mother turning to [Reader] and thanking them, and [Reader] reassuring them. Rollo scoffed, one person was not enough to persuade his mind that humanity was any different. It didn’t just stop there, weeks after the incident they had another run-in with them - at a distance, of course. 

[Reader] was in the market with the intent of buying groceries, but instead offered to help the people at the stands. It was a never-ending cycle, when they finished their task another person went to them asking for help. 

‘They’re a fool, they’re being taken advantage of by the others-’ 

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mind helping but I haven’t finished my shopping. When I finish and if you still need help I can come back.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry [Reader], I didn’t mean to take up your time! It’s fine if you can’t, but thank you anyway.” 

[Reader] politely excused themselves and finished their shopping. A couple of instances off the top of his head that Rollo remembered, [Reader] buying food for a beggar on the street, helping an elderly person cross the street, helping a cat out of their collar once they noticed it was choking from it, and when they helped stitch back up a child's toy once it was ruined. Rollo was getting irritated at this point, 

‘Madam, I swear it’s like you enjoy tormenting me. . .are you trying to prove a point?’ 

The scowl written on his face was unwavering as he continued to observe this happy-go-lucky person. He managed to overhear the conversation between [Reader] and another person. 

“You’re so nice [Reader], it’s so rare to find someone who cares about people the way you do!” 

“You think so? I don’t think I am doing anything too grand, I just do what comes normal to me.” 

“Yes! You have a heart of gold, I mean you offer to help when needed. You should be careful though, people out there would take advantage of that kindness.” 

“Hm, I guess. I mean, I just do what I can but if it’s too much or something I can’t do I’m not opposed to saying no. I think a lot of people just think I’m too nice because they’re just used to being treated with little kindness. I don’t want to be a bystander if I can do something. I hold the door for people if they’re close and I’m not going to shut the door on them, it’s not like it takes too much time.” 

“Aw, you’re so nice.” 

“I don’t think so, I mean would you shut the door on me if I was behind you?” 

“Well. . .” 

“Then you’re just too mean.” 

[Reader] and the person exchanged a laugh before parting ways. Rollo stood still and turned to see [Reader] back in the distance, leaving the marketplace. His resolve didn’t sway, humans were still corrupt and undeserving of salvation, the only difference now was that there was an exception. Rollo would be lying if he sometimes didn’t go into town to glance at [Reader] and if he was lucky enough, he would be there at the same time. Over months though, he began to see less and less of them. He started to worry a bit, for the first weeks he chalked it up to [Reader] wanting time away from town but was surprised to know that nobody had seen them in the market for a month. Rollo approached a vendor, starting small talk, 

“Good morning, Father Rollo. How do you do today?” 

“I’m quite fine, thank you for asking. How about yourself?”

“Aw well, same! Business has been booming but I haven’t seen my top customer in a while!” 

“Oh, and who is that?” 

“[Reader]! They’re a sweet thing but suddenly stopped coming into town. I won’t lie, I am a little worried about them.” 

“[Reader]? I don’t believe I’ve seen them at mass. . .” 

“]Reader] used to go if I remember correctly, but I’m not too sure. I know they used to into town daily, aside from their work they loved to walk around the city. I think they stopped coming out as much a year or two ago, sometimes though they’ll come daily but it’s so rare when they do! I’m not quite sure why-!” 

“It’s because of their partner!” 

Rollo and the vendor turned to another person, an elderly lady who had joined the conversation. 

“Their partner. . .?” 

Rollo questioned, 

“Yes! At first, it was sweet. They met at [Readers’s] work and instantly became close, I would sometimes frequent their workplace you see. Their partner treated them with so much kindness but after a while, it was plain as day, he was isolating them! I remember I was walking home when I overheard them get into an argument, he wanted [Reader] to quit their job. [Reader] refused and that was the end of it, I’m not sure how they managed to persuade him because all I could hear was his yelling. After a while, [Reader] didn’t come to work and I thought they did quit, but when they came back they weren’t the same. They were still kind as ever, but you could tell something was off. Whenever they do come into town, it’s because their partner isn’t in Fleur City. I heard he sometimes goes back to take care of his ill parents.” 

Rollo was conflicted, who was this woman to be spreading such personal information of theirs but he had to thank her, without her, he never would have come to realize what needed to be done. Rollo had to admit, over the time he spent observing [Reader] he did become enamored with them. One true nature is revealed in several ways, how one presents oneself, their thoughts and actions, and what one preaches. Their nature had long been revealed, [Reader] was the only person whom Rollo believed was deserving of God’s love and he would not let them become a martyr for those deserving the flames of hell. 

Rollo set his plan in motion. He carefully wrote a letter and paid someone who the town would never recognize to deliver it into the hands of [Reader’s] partner. Their partner read the contents and before they could react, the person who delivered it had vanished to report to Rollo. 

“It’s been done?” 

“Yes, Father Rollo. May I ask though, what do you plan-” 

“That’s enough, you needn't worry about the content of the letter. Your task was to deliver, which you have. You’re free to go.” 

The man excused himself, leaving Rollo at his desk with his elbows propped but his hands were close together. He was deep in thought, 

“He would be wise to appear later tonight if he truly cares for his parents.” 

Later that night, their partner had walked down to the waterways. There, they met a cloaked individual. 

“Are you the one who sent me that letter? Who the fuck do you think you are to threaten my family-!” 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

The cloaked individual placed their hand out, to halt them from coming closer. They used that same hand to point upwards. When [Reader’s] partner looked up, they were met with several shadows who were not afraid to display their weapons. 

“What do you want?” 

Their partner scoffed out. The cloaked individual spoke out, 

“You have a partner by the name of [Reader]. Let’s just say that they owe me something, that being said it’s hard for us to come in contact with one another. This is where you come in, I need you to lure them into town. Do it on a rainy day, when there are fewer people to overhear, but I need you to lure them to the center of town. Make sure that nobody sees you two or asks about you, do you understand?” 

“What do they owe you-?!” 

“That’s none of your concern! Just, lure them into the center of the town. My men will be watching to make sure no one interferes but remember, if someone comes to find out about this plan. Well, you know what will happen to your family, understood?” 

Their partner gulped in fear and nodded, 

“You may go, and remember to not tell a single soul about this. I’ll always be listening.” 

They remained still for a brief moment, processing the words of the individual, before running out. Once they were out of sight, the person removed their cloak. Rollo stood in the center, looking at the moon and breathing out a sigh of relief. Those armed shadows turned to Rollo and asked, 

“Father Rollo, may I ask who that man is?” 

“Just someone this world would be better without. Keep me updated on his location and if he says anything. Remember, this is all to protect Fleur City.” 

Rollo disappeared within the waterways. 

Rollo approached the fireplace in his office and looked down at the handkerchief once more before tenderly caressing it into his face. 

“[Reader], I’ll repeat your name over and over like a prayer, I’d never tire of it. . .if only you knew of all things I did for you to be by my side. . .” 

The memory rolled over in his head, 

“There is a storm coming, we should make preparations in case of anything.” 

“Oh, you’re always so diligent and a step ahead, Father Rollo.” 

“Madam, one can never be too prepared.” 

The madam shook her head at Rollo’s comments but carried out his request. He had stood in preparation for anything. If what was revealed was true, then [Reader] was certainly being isolated by their partner. Their abusive partner would take advantage of another. That being said, he planned to make it so that they lured [Reader] out into the center of town, where the cathedral lay. Their partner may not know it as he was certain he had never seen him before but [Reader] should. They would request sanctuary from the church and there, He would be by the door, awaiting his beloved with open arms. 

Before he knew it, he could hear the shouts and screams outside the door. 

“Sanctuary, give me sanctuary!” 

Before long, Rollo had opened the door and with a perfect facade, displayed concern. He could tell the way their partner trembled that he had feared for his family, he was caught by the church. Their partner had no choice but to flee the scene with their tail between his legs. After Rollo instructed the Madam to watch over [Reader], Rollo had the guards chase after their partner. In the meantime, Rollo had placed his cloak on and made his way to the outskirts of town where he was being held. 

“L-Let me go! Damn it, it wasn’t my fault-!” 

“Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone interfere?” 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! The church and that stupid priest got in the way! P-please leave my f-family alone-!” 

Rollo removed his cloak and presented himself to their ex-partner. 

“Y-you!?” 

“Don’t worry, your family won’t suffer. Though I will admit, I didn’t think you would go through with sacrificing them.” 

“Y-You threatened my family, w-why wouldn’t I?” 

“I suppose there is some logic to that reason. Tell me, did you even love them?” 

“W-what? I-I suppose I did?” 

“You suppose? You’re not certain?” 

Rollo questioned them further, 

“I mean yes! Yes, I did love them! W-what does this have to do with anything, you said they owed you something no-?” 

“ No, they don’t. I did this more to see what you would do and you played right into it. Once again, I was proved right. Humanity is undeserving of God’s love and salvation, you’re all just scum that turn against each other at any moment it’s convenient. You disgust me.” 

“Y-You did this to prove a point!? Y-You think I won’t reveal to the townspeople who their beloved priest is?” 

“Not very intelligent either, are you? I’m not worried, because this is where judgment shall be passed onto you. This goes a little deeper than what you think, but no matter. I hereby declare you, guilty, and your sentence, punished by death. Dispose of him.” 

Rollo turned around, ignoring the pleas of that man. He did turn around to see their execution, before turning back. 

“We shall burn his body, but in the meantime place him somewhere no one will find out. Oh and, arrange for someone to take care of his parents. Hire a doctor to live with them.” 

The others nodded and carried out the order. Rollo headed back to town with a clear conscious. 

His attention remained on the flames. They had burned his body and afterward, devised a plan to break the news to his parents.  As far as they were concerned, he had passed away from a natural cause but because he was such a good member of the church, he was able to have a doctor stay with them full-time. He placed a chaste kiss on the handkerchief, 

‘This burning desire is turning me to sin. . .’ 

~ 

Rollo was sitting at the Confessional and while he was a man of God, he was also human. Like humans, he was running short of his patience. Father Rollo was a devoted man to his occupation, but of course, even messengers of God need time of their own. He was covering for another priest, Father Phoebus, who unexpectedly became ill. Rollo’s face turned into one of annoyance and anger, he was certain that the priest wasn’t ill but rather skipping out on his duties. 

‘ No matter, confession ends in about 10 minutes. . .I just need to hold out till then.’ 

Rollo’s optimistic outlook was shattered the moment he heard someone else sit on the other side of the confessional. He rolled his eyes before turning to the wooden lattice opening but stiffened when he saw it was [Reader]. Luckily, this confessional was designed so that the priest would be hidden away and the penitent was visible. 

“I do apologize for coming in so late, Father Phoebus. . but I would like to confess my sins.” 

Rollo cleared his throat, 

“Of course, please, confess to me what ails you.” 

He placed his gaze at [Reader], who remained unaware that instead of Father Phoebus, it was Rollo. 

“Right, to be honest, I’m not quite sure where to begin. All I know is, I’m committing a grave sin. I ... . .in love with a man that I cannot have. He is married to a vow.” 

Rollo’s breath hitched, turned to stare at [Reader] who looked down in regret and disappointment.

“M-married? May I ask, which vow this man is married to?” 

[Reader] stiffened at the question, 

“Father Phoebus. . .it's Father Rollo who I am enamored with. He is God's messenger and as such, I know my feelings will never be reciprocated yet! Yet, I can’t help but still love him.” 

Rollo knew that Reader required guidance and genuine support, but he couldn’t help the need or desire after hearing that the one he loved also felt the same. He pulled out the wine-red handkerchief with the beautiful purple embroidery that outlined the cloth and spelled his name on the corner. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it as his dick hardened at the idea of [Reader]. 

“T-tell me, how much you love him?” 

Rollo swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“O-Oh w-well. . .” 

It was an awkward question no doubt so there was some resistance from [Reader]. Rollo pressed on, 

“I would like to know how deep your admiration goes so that I c-can properly guide you.” 

“R-right. . well, I love him. At first, I thought it was just admiration because he helped me get back on my feet. When I gave him his handkerchief, I saw more than a simple thanks on his face, but a face of genuine gratitude, which made me fall deeper. I know he’s only being kind to me because it’s the right thing to do and not because of any special treatment, but I can’t help but-” 

Rollo continued to listen to their feelings, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t thinking about stroking his cock to their voice. Rollo had never experienced such feelings towards anyone before, but after meeting [Reader] he became a victim of the sin of greed and lust. 

“Though I will admit, maybe the reason I love him is because I feel safe and secure with him. With my past partner, I didn’t feel the same sense of security. I did at first, but after a while, they became the aggressor. I’m not sure why I didn’t leave immediately after and I kept beating myself up about but Father Rollo, assured me that it was not my fault. He was so kind and understanding, it was different from the others who told me something similar. It was sincere from both sides, but with him it was. . it was different.” 

When they finished confessing, Rollo spoke, 

“I don’t think you should be ashamed of your feelings. It’s a natural human thing to feel, love that is. You’re right, Father Rollo is a man tied to an oath by the Church. Under the eyes of God, he may not reciprocate your feelings but that doesn’t mean he would see you any less different. Your sins are forgiven, my child.” 

[Reader] nodded and bid farewell to ‘Father Phoebus’. Rollo watched their figure retreat and let out a breath of relief. Though he could not stop the pounding in his heart nor the tent in his pants. 

~ 

“F-Fuck! [R-Reader]-!” 

Rollo had retreated to his office once confessions were over, there he had his handkerchief wrapped around his dick, jerking himself off. The one that he loved felt the same for him but he was sure their love was not the same as his obsession with them. Such a pure and innocent crush on him whereas he shamefully was stroking his cock to the idea of touching them. 

“Ha. . ha. . wanna t-touch you, fuck-!” 

He threw his head back at the pleasure, how would [Reader] react to seeing their beloved Father Rollo fuck the handkerchief that they had gifted him. His orgasm was approaching and his whines were getting louder, he leaned over his table and spilled his seed onto the wine-red cloth, sweat adorning his face. He let out a sigh of relief and sat down on his chair. He thought of [Reader] and this new found confession. Rollo’s mind was made up. 

~ 

“I think we’re all good to go, [Reader] we’re heading out now!” 

“Have a good night!” 

[Reader] bid the other church volunteers farewell before giving the church one last good look. They were about to grab their things to depart as well before the doors opened. They turned to look at Father Rollo, who emerged from his office. 

“F-Father Rollo. . .what brings you out here so late?” 

“I’m just giving the Church one final look, but I did hope to catch you before you left.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, come [Reader], take a walk with me.” 

[Reader] approached Rollo and their walk began. He was taking them across the Cathedral to put out the candles. 

“I know it’s been a while, but how have you been enjoying yourself in Fleur City?” 

“Oh, just fine! Thank you again, for all that you’ve done of course. It certainly feels amazing being able to freely leave and return without being shackled down. Not to mention, it’s a lot more eventful than I remember.” 

“I see, Father Pheobus has attempted to get more events hosted by the church. He would like the city to get together once in a while. It’s something new that he has been doing, but it seems that the townspeople enjoy it.” 

“That they do, may I ask, Father Rollo? Do you not like to get involved in events like these?” 

The main hall of the Cathedral was darkening with each step, 

“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. Socializing with others isn’t my strong suit, I tend to other matters that I excel at rather than mistakenly saying something I don’t mean.” 

[Reader] had noticed that Rollo tended to stay in the shadows and only speak when something needed to be said. If someone approached him and tried conversing, Rollo would maintain the utmost professionalism. He wasn’t one for idle chatter but never turned someone down if they wanted to have a word with him. Rollo continued his task, with [Reader] following close behind. 

“That’s fair. Sometimes not saying anything is the proper response, but I can see how that may stress you out. After all, you are a priest and everyone’s eyes are on you. Sorry, don’t mean to add to the pressure either.” 

As the candles were extinguished one by one, Rollo’s heels added to the ominous vibe that the Cathedral was giving. 

“You’re right, [Reader]. As a priest, all their eyes are on me waiting to hear what I  say but as such, my eyes are also on them. Despite what I preach, I believe that not everyone is capable of salvation. Humans are not devoid of sin, that is the truth. Though we are created in God’s image, we certainly are not perfect. There are those where their sins are mistakes and nothing more. Then some’s sins are perfectly under their control yet still choose to see nothing wrong in their actions. You can have that outlier where one of those wishes to repent and truly feel regret, but then some parade around shamelessly into God’s house asking for forgiveness. It’s laughable.” 

[Reader] remained silent. There was nothing they could say because ultimately, Father Rollo was right to some degree. Though they would be lying if they weren’t off-put by his sudden change. 

“ Did you know that the baker is having an affair? Ongoing for four years actually, yet he never fails to bring his wife and kids into mass every Sunday morning, thanking God for allowing them to live the way they do. They recently had their marriage anniversary, married for 10 years to be exact. I remember I was the one who renewed their vows. His words still ring in my head,”

“I will love you forever and until the end. You’re the pillar that provides me with the strength to keep going. I would never want another partner other than you, the woman I chose to be the mother of my children. I thank God for this blessing that is you, my love.” 

“How romantic, don’t you think? That same night he went back to his other partner, claiming that they had a big order for an event and he needed to be one step ahead of the game. How could I forget the previous head of the Orphanage, asking for food to provide for the children? The church and townspeople helped with what they could, but every time those children would come into mass they remained as thin as ever but the head remained full and content. It wasn’t until I stepped in and of course, led an investigation to find out that he was starving the kids and eating all the food. Now the orphanage is under the care of the Church, to be more specific, under my direct care. Don’t you see how happy those children are every time you come to mass? I even remember when Madam first came to the church, she told us the story of her husband's passing. She and her beloved husband were walking back home when an armed assailant was waiting for them, upon asking for their valuables he stabbed her husband over 27 times before fleeing. When the man was caught, he was just a petty thief who confessed to the crime. Their reasoning was they had no need to steal but got a kick out of watching the fear in the eyes of the defenseless manifest and to make matters worse, this was his first time killing since he never dared to do it before. What could an elderly man do to him had he chosen to fight back, nothing. That same thief pleaded with God before his execution that I had carried out, to spare him.” 

By the time Rollo had gotten to his part in his talk, almost all the candles were out except for four in the front of the altar. There Rollo turned around, facing [Reader] who stood in the middle closest to the altar. He was closest to the church doors but that area had been pitch black. He continued his speech and though he did not pose a threat to [Reader], yet, They couldn’t help the goosebumps that were forming on their skin and the sudden draft within the Cathedral. 

“Of course, the world is not black and white. There is no right or wrong, for if there was I too would have been punished. It’s not practical for me to base my distaste of humanity on a few bad apples, Madam, even after everything she went through still says that everyone deserves salvation but it’s like you said, [Reader]. We’re all so used to this world the way it is that a simple act of kindness, normalcy if you will, is considered a rarity.” 

[Reader] had recalled when they told that vendor that, those were their words and they still stood by it. The only thing was, they told that to the vendor, not Rollo. They shakily took a step back but kept their eyes trained on Rollo. He noticed their expression as well as their stance, but it was no use. The door to the church was locked and only Rollo had the key. He took a step forward, emerging from the darkness and [Reader] took a step back. 

“F-Father Rollo. . is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry. . I just don’t know how this relates to me. . .” 

He let out a chuckle, 

“ You asked why I don’t like to get involved, right? That is my answer. It’s hard to get involved when I am surrounded by the same people I wish I could condemn. However, you are different. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I too have been keeping an eye on you long before we officially met.  You treated everyone with kindness even those that did not deserve it. You remained as human as possible, someone who could voice their feelings and care for everyone equally, even yourself. It was a sight for sore eyes, like an angel in a sea of devils. You tried your best and worked hard, but you knew what you could and couldn’t do. You were even starting to make me regain hope in this world but I quickly noticed that warm light inside of you start to flicker. It was all because of him, [Partner’s Name]. He had slowly started to dim that warm light inside of you and I couldn’t do anything, or so I thought. Your partner driving you out of your home was not accidental,  I can assure you. I had him lure you here, into the Church. There, I was able to save you from him.” 

[Reader’s] breath hitched. They had always assumed that all the events that led up to now were a mere coincidence, life just being its usual confusing self. It was not unusual for their partner to enter their shared home and demand things, bossing them around. They had assumed that it was the usual same old story. This didn’t change how they saw their partner and their relief that he was no longer in their life, but it changed their perception of Rollo. Had Rollo orchestrated their whole thing? Since when? For how long? Most importantly, for what? 

“Since we are in a church, I might as well confess. I have kept my eye on every single Fleur citizen since I became a priest, but I have kept my eye on you for months now. It’s hard for me to communicate with everyone, but not you [Reader]. Since I’ve been admiring you from a distance, I’ve come to love you. I love your person and your way of being. Your kindness, your truth, your struggles, everything about you I have come to love.” 

By now, [Reader] was up against the altar with Rollo standing in front of them. Both were illuminated by the remaining candles, his hand reached out to caress their cheek. 

“I’ve come to love everything about you, [Reader], even the parts that you aren’t aware of. I’ll remain to love them as well, for there is no one else.” 

“F-Father R-Rollo, I-!” 

He leaned closer to them, his piercing blue-green eyes staring into [Readers] fearful and confused ones. He placed a kiss on their lips, tilting their head back to get a better angle. Seconds passed before he lifted his lips from them, 

“. .And if you were to fall into sin, let it be by my hands.” 

Conflicted could not begin to describe it. The person they loved reciprocated their feelings, so much that they kissed at this very moment. Though logically speaking, Rollo had just admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. Who knew what was the truth and what was a lie? Did their partner move? Was it willingly? Most importantly, did it matter? Sure, maybe there was a time when logic was sound but that time wasn’t right now. Thinking with their heart, [Reader] kissed back. They shared a deep and sensual kiss that neither one dared to break. Rollo pushed his body up against [Reader], grinding into them. The altar luckily wasn’t too high, but there were small steps on either side that allowed them to effortlessly get on the altar. Rollo managed to push their back flat against the cold marbled table, 

“F-Father R-Rollo, are you sure? Y-you’re a man with a vow and-” 

“[Reader], I love you.” 

Their eyes widened once more at the confession and looking up, they weren’t meant with the Rollo they knew. He was no longer stoic and professional, this Rollo was vulnerable. His cheeks were flushed pink as he straddled [Reader’s] hips. His body loomed over theirs and his hands went to open their top. His eyes were glossed over with love and desire. [Reader’s] top was opened to expose their chest and his hands lightly touched their skin. His cold fingers trailed from their neck, chest, and lastly their nipples. Rollo let out a shaky sigh, 

“I love you. Let me worship you, with God as my witness let me prove my devotion to you. .” 

Rollo’s lips neared [Reader’s] and they exchanged a kiss. He lightly bit on their bottom lip, asking for permission to further taste them. A moan escaped [Reader] but they opened their mouth to allow his tongue inside. Rollo pressed himself further into [Reader], afraid to let go. Needing air, [Reader] placed their hands on his clothed chest, pushing against it. Releasing their lips, Rollo straightened but released a breathy moan. [Reader] could see the warmth spreading across his pale skin, but could also feel his growing bulge. Rollo began to lean back down but stopped when [Reader] went to open his top. He allowed them to strip him of his shirt, allowing his pale chest to be exposed. 

“I want to see you too, R-Rollo. . .” 

The tip of his ears turned pink at the comment. He leaned down to their neck, licking up and down. Nibbling and biting down to create hickeys. His lips trailed down, kissing the skin around the newly formed hickey and down to their chest. Moans spilled from both Rollo and [Reader], the pleasure shared between the two. His tongue swirled around their nipple, lightly biting and sucking on them. [Reader] tenderly held Rollo’s head as he worked on their chest. Shaky breaths echoed throughout the Cathedral. 

“F-Fuck. . R-Rollo-!” 

Rollo lifted himself from their chest and saw the bright pink/red circular marks all across their chest. 

“Not enough. . .it’s not e-enough. . “ 

Rollo leaned back down, kissing down to their navel area. His hands played with their bottoms, opening them agonizingly slow. He pulled them down their legs and he shifted back, making sure he could properly remove them. 

“F-Fuck, y-your sex. . .” 

Rollo’s shaky moans slipped out, he stared in awe at [Reader’s] aroused sex. He shifted back before nearing their sex and inhaling their scent. Rollo’s fingers carefully touched around, going to their most sensitive spot and circling his finger around. 

“R-Rollo…right there…feels good….” 

Rollo nodded, continuing to circle his finger. After a while he leaned down, placing his tongue on their sensitive spot. He licked around, replacing the movement of his finger, and began to lick up and down. [Reader] let out soft moans and breaths as he continued pleasuring them. He began to kiss, suck, lick, pinch, and stroke their sensitive bits. Rollo took a break to lick his fingers and pushed them against [Reader’s] hole. Lightly inserting a finger inside, feeling them clench around it. 

“Do you lust for me. . the same way I lust for you?” 

“ I-I’ve a-always wanted you-ngh!” 

Though Rollo wasn’t attending to their sex with his mouth, he was still reaching inside them with his fingers. Slipping a second finger to curl up against that soft spot inside them, pumping rhythmically. Rollo leaned back down, placing his mouth back on their sex. Rollo himself wasn’t too experienced, but based on their sounds, he knew more or so where to touch. His long slender fingers managed to reach thoroughly and the stimulation with his tongue was overwhelming.

“F-Fuck Rollo, g-gonna cum-!” 

Rollo continued to abuse their sex, giving them that final push needed to orgasm. Rollo’s face was drenched with drool and cum, but still managed to swallow everything that they released. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock that was already leaking pre-cum. He wrapped his hands around it, stroking himself. 

“Can I-fuck! P-put it inside you. . .?” 

Rollo’s half-lidded eyes pleaded with [Reader’s], begging to fuck them.  [Reader] propped themself up with their elbow, sat up, and kissed him. Rollo leaned forward to reciprocate. They placed their hands on his cheeks and lightly caressed, 

“You may. . .but can I. .be on top?” 

Rollo softly nodded, letting [Reader] guide him to lie down on the altar instead. [Reader] went to stimulate his already hard dick, but wrapped their hands around it and jerk him, smearing his pre-cum around. They licked their fingers and trailed them down to their hole, lightly fingering themselves to adjust to his size. They scissored themself and when they were ready, hovered over his cock. They lowered themselves onto Rollo’s cock, clenching down on his dick. 

“F-Fuck you’re tight-!” 

Rollo threw his head back at the sensation and his hands reached to hold [Reader’s] hip. [Reader] stayed still to adjust to his size but after a while, began to move. Riding his cock, [Reader] threw their head back as breaths left them, their back slowly arching. Rollo thrust, matching their pace as well. One of his hands moved to their sex, stimulating it at the same pace. 

Aside from the candles, the moonlight entered the Cathedral through the stained glass. The hue of the deep blues and purples reflected off their skin, creating an almost angelic glow. Their moans and whines echoed throughout the church, Rollo’s back was on the altar and his body coated in sweat. His eyes glossed over with tears, looking over at [Reader] who fared the same. Their body was sweaty and warm, their movements were slowing with time. Rollo’s thrust became more erratic, reaching deeper into [Reader]. 

“I-I’m close-! F-Fuck, f-feels s-so good-! Rollo!” 

Mewls spilled out of [Reader]’s mouth. 

“M-Me too-! I-I love you! L-Love you so much! God, I love you so much, [Reader]!” 

“I l-love you too, R-Rollo-!” 

With their final declaration of love, [Reader] came all over Rollo and he came deep inside of them. Their deep breaths were heard throughout the cathedral. [Reader] slumped on top of Rollo with his cock still inside them. They nuzzled into Rollo’s neck, peppering light kisses. 

“Love you s’much, Rollo.” 

“I love you too. . .[Reader].” 

His arms wrapped around them, pressing them closer into him. They stayed like that for a while, before [Reader] perked up, looking at his face. 

“I-I do have a question though. . .did you know that I liked you?” 

Rollo looked down to see their curious gaze, he adverted his eyes with a blush staining his cheeks. 

“It. . .it wasn’t Father Pheobus in the Confessional. It. . .it was me. . .” 

[Readers] face fell, 

“S-SO I CONFESSED TO YOU?” 

[Reader] buried their face in his neck, Rollo let out a soft smile at their antics. 

“That you did. Though I am glad, without you confessing to me, this never would have happened.” 

Still buried in his neck, they mumbled a couple of words. 

“I love you. . .” 

Rollo, of course, said it back. He could hear their soft snores, they had passed out from exhaustion. Only one thought lay in his mind, there was no one else other than him that could preserve the purity within [Reader]. 

‘If hellfire must consume me, so be it. I will never let anyone else take you away from me. Your purity is for me to preserve and to taint, no one else.’ 

This was only the beginning of the tragic tell that would come about to Twisted Wonderland. The story of the righteous priest and judge who burned down Fleur City, all because of their desire for someone they could never truly have. 

A/N: So that was a long one. . .how we feeling? I don’t think I will ever write a part 2, sorry :(( UNLESS I get inspiration but I do want to write headcanons for him so maybe? That being said I will be posting another post that will talk about the future of this blog (I AM NOT LEAVING DW)! That being said, I want to thank my friends for helping me with this fic! Special mention to my friend who helped me confirm his personality for me (I love you Nova) and my other friend, who got horny thoughts when they went to church! :3 

#yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere smut #yandere rollo #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo flamme x reader #twst rollo #rollo flamme #twisted wonderland rollo #rollo x reader

[actuallysaiyan]

Hi! I have already asked other authors several times to write about the curse of the reader and Nanami, where Nanami must get rid of the reader, but she seduces him. for some reason EVERYONE ignores this request. 😭😭😭 if you like it, please write something🥺

warnings: seduction, use of domain expansion, oral sex(male receiving), semi-public sex, reader is a curse

word count: 1,1k

pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Succubus/Curse!Reader

summary: Kento is itching to get rid of you, considering you've made him go into overtime. But when you trap him into your domain, he's unable to escape

a/n: I hope you enjoy! I wasn't sure if this is what you wanted exactly, but if you wanted something different, feel free to shoot me a message! I got you fam!

Taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento

He’s been chasing this same curse for what feels like hours. Up and down alleyways, down dark streets. It’s late and he’s way passed overtime now, and it’s making him even more frustrated. He should be home, comfortable with a cup of warm tea and showered. But of course, Kento is very determined to take down this curse. He’s been hearing rumors that this curse likes to prey on young men and hurt them.

The scent of vanilla and roses fills his nostrils. He’s getting closer to you, and he’s going to be very happy when he dispatches you. It should have been such an easy job, but you were much more evasive than previously thought. You were quick, and you were clever.

“Coming, sorcerer?” you taunt from a dark alleyway. Kento grunts and he clutches the hilt of the blade even tighter.

He runs into the damp alleyway. The smell of vanilla gets even stronger. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels a little dizzy. The closer he gets to you, the more he grows frustrated that this chase has gone on this long. He wants to be home, but something is causing him to continue. He needs to finish this once and for all.

“Ohhh hi handsome,” you call from one of the decrepit fire escapes. It looks like it could fall any minute.

“Get down here,” he scolds you. He has a better view of you now.

Your flaming hair, your pink eyes. There’s even a pink tinge to your skin, making you appear even more tantalizing. You giggle softly, waggling your fingers at him. He’s growing even more impatient.

“I didn’t know sorcerers were this handsome!” You say, climbing down the fire escape. 

Kento knows that you’ll probably try to pull a fast one on him, so he’s ready to attack the minute he’s got a good range. The closer you’ll get, the more he’ll have the perfect shot.

You toss your hair behind you, “Cat got your tongue?”

Kento shakes his head, “No.”

“Ohhhh, so demanding. I bet you’re a dominant lover,” you purr as you get a little closer.

Kento raises his blade, ready to strike. Just as he’s about to use his cursed technique, this is when you trap him into your domain. The domain expansion of a sex curse like you is not something he wanted to get trapped into. The world almost seems like it’s being put through a rose colored glasses filter. The scents from earlier are even more intense in here.

“What’s your name?” you ask him, your voice seeming to come from everywhere in this domain.

“That’s irrelevant.” He grumbles, his heart beating faster. The heat seems to be rising.

You watch as he squirms a little. His hand comes up to undo a few buttons on his shirt, and you get a bit of a glimpse of his chest. Your mouth waters as you see the chest hair. You slink over to him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He shudders as he senses you. 

“It’s okay, we don’t need to exchange names.”

Your voice sounds like warm, dripping honey. It makes him shudder. There’s a few beads of sweat on his forehead now. You gently wipe one of them away, blowing cool air onto his neck.

“Why don’t you relax, sweetheart? I won’t hurt you. I don’t kill people.”

The words hit him. He knows he should just get rid of you right now. He’s got enough willpower left to do exactly that. But the more he allows you to touch him and tease him, the more he’s losing his resolve. You’re just too tantalizing. Everyone had warned him that chasing a sex curse wasn't a smart idea, but Kento thought himself to be different from his colleagues. He’s not sex obsessed like most men.

“I promise, I can be gentle.”

Those words hit harder now. His heart is racing. There’s stirring in his pants now. Sweat slicks his skin, and you keep blowing cool air on him. You press yourself against him, and he feels your breasts pressing into his side.

“Let me show you,”

And without realizing it, Kento has fallen completely victim to all of this. He can’t even push you away when you drop to your knees. He watches you through hooded eyes as you unbuckle his belt. There’s a giggle as you unzip his pants and pull them down past his toned ass.

“My, my…” Your fingers brush against the bulge in his boxer briefs. “You are packing.”

Normally he’d be so shy about that, but he’s not very lucid right now. Then your fingers tease the waistband of his underwear before you pull them down too. Your mouth waters as you see his cock bouncing and smacking his lower abdomen. There’s already a bead of pearlescent fluid coming from the slit.

“Good boy!” You exclaim before you lean in to kiss the head. You moan as you lick up the fluid.

Kento’s knees are almost about to buckle from the pleasure. He keeps reminding himself to use his blade on you, but his mind is so clouded now. He can’t even really tell right from wrong. And things just get even worse as you wrap your lips around the leaking head.

“F-fuck…” he hisses through gritted teeth.

You giggle again, and begin taking even more of him into your mouth. He tastes musky to you, but it’s the perfect kind of flavor. His pubes are blond, but neatly trimmed. He seems like the kind of man who takes good care of his hygiene. Gradually, you pick up your pace.

His hands come down to tangle in your hair. His hips are bucking as he begins to fuck your warm, wet mouth. The whole time, you’re making him feel so good. Kento swears he’s never felt a blowjob this good in his life. He knows it’s wrong, and part of that is fueling him to feel even more turned on. He lets out swear words as he gets closer to his orgasm.

Then one of your perfectly manicured hands comes down to begin rubbing his heavy and very full balls. It doesn’t take too much more for him to come undone. He grunts and growls loudly, holding you in place as shots of thick cum begin to slide down your throat. You greedily continue to suck him off, well past his orgasm. Kento whines and whimpers as the overstimulation becomes too much. His eyes flutter shut and he feels himself growing limp.

Suddenly, he wakes up in the alleyway. The domain expansion is gone. There’s barely the smell of vanilla in the air. He’s mortified to see his cock is still out, and on the tip of it is a very pink kiss print. He quickly pulls up his pants, buckling his belt once more. There’s regret of not catching you earlier.

Then in his back pocket. Kento finds a playing card. It’s the queen of hearts. On the other side is a message just for him.

See you soon, handsome.xox

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[blossiewossie]

— Lawless Affair

pairing : gojo x reader x geto genre : business men au (lawyers), smut rating : mature word count : 2k+

shoutout to @junqkook for helping me with learning the ways of tumblr and for helping me prep to post; i still have lots to learn but you made it less intimidating teehee ♡

— note : hihi this is my first time using tumblr and also posting on tumblr, pls be kind. also, i put down 'smut' but the spicy stuff could come in a later part (when i eventually write it, lol) enjoy!

“Ah, ____, I see you’re all set up at your desk!,” you heard someone exclaim behind you.

Spinning around in your chair, you look up to see one of your new colleagues smiling cheerfully at you while holding a woven basket full of supplies. Her silky black hair was tied up in a half-up do with a cute pink bow on it, completely encapsulating her bubbly personality.

“I’m sorry to bug you, but I brought you these!,” she exclaimed brightly, plopping the basket down. She reached in and started pulling out different items for you to use to decorate your cubicle, including a bunch more bows of various sizes.

“Thank you, uh…,” you trailed off sheepishly, glancing at the spot where you were told to wear your name tag on her shirt before realizing she didn’t have hers on.

“Oh, where are my manners?!,” she cried out loud. “I’m Utahime Iori, but you can just call me Iori! I figured since it’s your first day here with us, I’d give you a hand with decorating your spot!”

“Cut it out, would you? You’ll scare her away!,” demanded another colleague. Turning your head towards the new voice, you spot a woman with silver hair sashaying towards you, her heels clicking against the floor. She came to a stop next to Iori and nudged her before turning to you with an apologetic smile, while Iori coughed awkwardly.

“Sorry about her, she tends to overwhelm our new hires with her presence. I promise she means well,” says the new woman. “I’m Mei Mei,” she says.

“Hi, I’m ____,” you say back, laughing as Iori sticks her tongue out at the unimpressed colleague.

You tell them you appreciate how welcoming they are, as you were feeling quite nervous about today. After all, not everyone gets a chance to work at a prestigious law firm under one of the greatest lawyers of the country.

The two women quickly assure you that you’re in good hands and the topic is quickly changed as you all started getting to know each other. Many moments, and laughs, later, you are all exchanging numbers so that you could contact each other outside of work. As the two women say their goodbyes and you turn to face your desk, Mei Mei stops in her tracks and returns to your desk once more.

“Just a final thought. I want to give you a warning,” her voice drops to a whisper, while she glances around carefully.

Intrigued, you lean in, eager to hear what she has to say.

“Whatever you do, do not let him in your pants.”

Sputtering wildly, you look back at Mei Mei with a shocked expression while she has a curious look on her face.

“I’m not letting anyone in my pants, wha-,” you start to stutter out when Mei Mei’s palm splats across your lips, hushing you immediately.

Mei Mei glances around once more before removing her hand.

“The big boss has a friend that likes to linger in here when he has nothing else to do at his own firm,” she says softly. “We cannot speak ill about him freely, but as your friend now, I must warn you. Do not fall for his games. He has slept with every new hire we have had. You don’t want to be tangled up in his mess.”

Straightening up, she looks around once more before nodding at you. Turning on her heel and flipping her silvery locks, she walks away while yelling out a loud ‘Nice talking to you, ____!’ before entering the hallway and disappearing.

Shaking away your thoughts, you straighten back towards your desk and smile amusedly at the basket left behind by your new friends. Digging through, you find a couple of bows of your favorite color and start piling them up on the side, reminding yourself to put them up before you leave for the day.

As the day drags on, you commit to your work meticulously, organizing and storing files away in their proper locations. You hear your coworkers occasionally walking around, but all is silent for the most part.

The next thing you know, BANG!

The door leading into the office area slams open and you see someone’s leg outstretched, as if they had kicked the door.

Startled, you scoot back and stand to lean over your cubicle to see what the commotion’s about as some of your coworkers do the same around you. Some of them have a wide grin on their faces while others roll their eyes and continue on their work as if nothing has happened. You notice most of the women around you are the ones keeping an eye on the door. Must be the hot-shot, you think to yourself.

The outstretched leg at the door set itself down and the man behind it walked in, exuding all the confidence in the world with his stride. You trail your eyes from his covered legs up, appreciating how well his slacks accentuated his long limbs. They continue to make their way up his torso to his chest, where he’s sporting a snug, white button-up with the top buttons lose. His matching suit jacket wrapped seductively around his arms, showing off their physique as he swung them nonchalantly by his side. Finally you raise your eyes up to his face and your breath hitches in your throat.

His eyes — they’re like the color of ice, but there’s more to it. They’re almost paradoxical, the way they sparkle with light but also glint with a hint of darkness. Paired with such breathtaking eyes was his unique hair color, as white as snow. The man was a walking epitome of winter, beautiful yet dangerous. And his smirk, that tied it all together.

Before you was an angel with devilish intentions.

You swore you could see the women in the room swoon instantaneously as the mysterious man waltzed his way around, stopping to chat with different people. Clearing your throat, you duck back down into your seat and try your best to continue where you left off in your work, suddenly feeling a rush of heat between your legs.

Jeez louise, you think to yourself.

Never in your life has a man made your body react like that from just looking at him. Sure, you’ve read some spicy stories here and there that made you want to touch yourself, but just his mere presence is making you feel more than all those stories combined.

You bite your lip as you continue typing, trying to ignore the conversations around you. Soon after you started to finally concentrate and your shoulders relax, a deep hush fell across the room as another set of footsteps make their way into the room, this time from your right side, where the boss’ office was.

“Ah, Satoru, I thought I’d find you here,” said a velvety voice.

Looking up, you realize your boss has stopped right in front of your cubicle as he spoke to the mysterious man. You recognize his voice from when he joined the human resource manager’s call to congratulate you on getting the job, but now you finally get to put a face to the voice — and what a face it is.

His eyes were closed as he smiled towards the mysterious man, making the latter return it with his own smile. His arms were crossed lazily, making his built arms and his toned chest puff out of his navy blue suit. His hair was tied up messily into a bun, with strands coming down the left side of his face, framing it nicely. You could see his ears, pierced and adorned with dark circular earrings. He stood tall, his frame towering over everyone but his friend, who had started to stroll leisurely towards him.

Gods, does being attractive come with being a lawyer?

“My, my, is that any way to welcome your friend, Seguru?”, said the man, Satoru.

You file that name into your memory, making sure to keep it there for later.

You peek through your lashes as the handsome man finally stops in front of your cubicle as well. Squeezing your thighs tightly, you listen as the two lawyers chat absentmindedly and try your best to type quietly. You do your best to tune out their conversation out of respect, but you can’t help stealing glances at them

As you went to look up at them once more, you realize the man Satoru was now looking at you curiously while your boss continued talking. Your breath hitches again as you stare into his twinkling eyes. Time seems to slow as all you can see is him.

You don’t realize your boss stopped talking until he clears his throat to get his friend’s attention, swiftly ending the intense eye contact between you both. Blushing bashfully, you glance back at your boss to see he was already staring at you with an eyebrow raised. He smiles and turns, facing you now.

“Ah, ____. I forgot to come introduce myself to you. I am Seguru Geto, we talked briefly on the call with Mr. Yu, the human resource manager.”, he said proudly, reaching his hand out to you.

You shake his hand as you spoke, noticing how small yours was in his.

“Hello, Mr. Geto. I’m honored to meet you!”, you say brightly, returning his smile with one of yours.

Your boss' smile widens as he turns his body slightly towards the mysterious man and stretches his hand out to him with his palm up.

“This is my friend and the owner of our sister firm, Satoru Gojo. You’ll see him here as he tends to visit us quite often while he lets his fellow lawyers pick up his slack.”

Your hand is suddenly lifted, taken by the handsome man himself, as he places a gentle kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hello there, ____.”, he says slowly, as if tasting your name on his lips, his smile now a smirk once more.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gojo,” you stutter out, yanking your hand back to your chest. You can feel your cheeks heating up again as you shyly look up at him. He sends you a wink as Mr. Geto wraps an arm around his shoulders and starts walking back towards his office, hollering for everyone to get back to work and apologizing for the interruption.

Your eyes follow their leaving forms, trying to decipher if this is real life. Before the door to the boss’ office closes, you see them both stopping to chatter, glance your way with smiles, and exit the room.

You look back to your computer once more, feeling the same heat rush between your legs from before. Now it wasn’t just because of Mr. Gojo, but also because your boss is an attractive specimen as well. A naughty thought of being with both of them crept into your mind, making you bite your lip intensely. The air around you felt warmer than before.

Leaving your desk, you quietly tell the clerk to the side of you that you’ll be going to the bathroom, getting a thumbs up in return. You quickly make your way down the hall to where the bathrooms are located. Rushing towards the sink, you turn the faucet to the cold water side and wet your hands, bringing them up to your face and neck as you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice your bottom lip was a bit red, bringing back your earlier thoughts. The sudden thought of being with both of your senior lawyers made your pussy tingle.

Groaning, you throw your hands back under the cold water to try and distract yourself from your naughty thoughts. You think back to your friend’s warning from earlier. Curiously, you wonder why she didn’t give you a heads up on how much of a hunk your boss was as well. Maybe he’s married, you thought as you dried your hands. Tossing away the napkins, you straighten up your blouse and skirt before nodding at the mirror in satisfaction.

Spinning on your heel, you make your way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Turning back towards the office area, you walk forward — only to slam into a wall.

Faltering back a couple steps, you feel a pair of hands reach out to steady you.

Quickly apologizing, you look up to see none other than Mr. Gojo looking down at you with a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ____?”, he says, looking you over, probably scanning for any injuries.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-,”

“This is why I told you not to walk backwards,” said Mr. Geto abruptly, rushing forward from behind Mr. Gojo, stopping behind you to look at you as well. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You realize now that both men are standing on either side of you, each one scanning your frame from the front and back. You look back up towards Gojo, his eyes now settled back on yours, an eyebrow cocked with a sideways grin. You glance back behind you to see Geto’s eyes surveying your body, lingering on your behind for a moment, before bringing them back up to meet yours, a mischievous smile gracing his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and cough, before nodding to both of them that you’re okay.

The two men make eye contact before looking back at you and nod as well, both of their eyes twinkling as if there was an inside joke that you missed out on. Shuffling your weight from one heel to the other, you apologize again for not looking at where you were going and excuse yourself so that you can go back to work.

Walking away quickly, you couldn’t help but hear them chuckle to themselves as they talked in hushed tones. Before you reach the end of the hallway and enter the office area, you turn your head back to look at them — only to see them already looking at you with matching smirks on their faces.

Sitting down at your desk, you only had one thought on your mind as you tried to continue your work once more:

What a first day at work this has been.

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